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sukirichi · 3 years

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reckless [01.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. explicit smut, accidental pregnancy, playboy! gojo, slight angst

✘ note. dedicated to wifey @7tsumurai who also made the banner and always supports me and showers me with love aaaa i love you baby <3 also this fic is mostly romance and fluff so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! thank you to @chosonore for pr-ing UWU. and we get like...10-15 chapters of this?!

one ✘ two ✘ three

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The night was young; streaks of gold flashing with the shimmering jewellery collared on your neck, the romantic humming of the violins pairing perfectly with the champagne that fizzed in your hand. It was supposed to be another day at work where you accompanied your boss to one of his events, considering the Casanova refused to bring his girlfriends in fear they might get the wrong idea he liked them outside the bed. It should be just another day at work; you’ve accompanied him hundreds of times before. Today wasn’t any different.

And yet it was.

You blamed it on the alcohol. On the slow dancing. On the fact he hadn’t stopped complimenting you all night and you’d been so stressed, the amount of planning and sleepless nights sacrificed in exchange of preparing for this event made you grab for three more flutes, the touch of your undeniable attractive boss permanent on your waist.

Satoru was equally aggravated. You’d worked him long enough to recognize even the smallest of cues, and the fact you’d spend nearly every hour of the day working with him for weeks straight in the office let you know he needed to let off some steam.

And what better way to relieve both of your tensions if not to give in to the cloud of lust?

The sultry gazes, the clashing perfumes between rose and musk, and the alcohol – the fucking alcohol – that gave way to you succumbing to your desire just this once.

There were no more thoughts – or if there were, they were muddled – as you kissed him back just as passionately, forgetting the fact his stylist spent an hour gelling his hair back to perfection as your eager fingers traced over his scalp. How you ended up in the back of limousine was beyond you, and neither was it your biggest concern when Satoru insisted you kept your heels on; his large hands caressing all the way from the ankle pressed beside his waist up to your waist.

You felt his daft fingers move the lacy thong you wore especially for tonight (not because you expected something, but the boost in confidence felt necessary) before he slides inside almost too easily.

Both your gasps and moans are swallowed in the stuffy compartment, windows fogged saved for the handprint you’d left when he hit a sensitive spot. He was moaning in your neck, skin slippery and sweaty as you slid from one another, seemingly never staying from one place as your hands treaded through his hair down to rake your nails on his back; his touch angry on your hips before his thumb found home in your clit.

As much as you hated him, hated his reputation, you couldn’t deny he really earned his title for being an absolute god in sex. You were no virgin, but you’d never felt this good, never felt this alive as bruises began to form in your skin and his lips hungrily sought out yours.

“S-Sir...”

“Satoru,” he corrected through your lips, the kiss barely even one when you were too busy moaning left and right. Satoru hitched your leg up to fold it right beside your waist, allowing him to explore deeper territories that not even you could mark.

His stare on you is perverted; openly wanton as he lets his empyrean gaze snake down to where your bodies connected. It was embarrassing to be this spread wide open for him, though it didn’t matter much, not when you clutched onto his bicep for dear life and panted breathlessly. He was kissing you everywhere – smearing your lipstick all over your lips and his, a stain of red on his hard, white collar and love bites marked deep into your collarbones and under your breasts. You tightened around him once he changed his rhythm into a more sensual one; the quick pace replaced with him pulling out slowly – inch by delicious inch until you felt empty with each growing second – before slamming back inside with fervidity that he never quite possessed behind his desk.

He groaned at your walls clenching down on him, his hips stuttering in the process. “Call me Satoru.”

“Satoru,” you moaned out, and his next sounds were pained. Pained because you sounded too gorgeous, felt too good, and with you following his hips thrust by thrust, neither of you would last any longer. Not even as you shake your head, lips swollen as you remind him, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed with a curled lip, sweat beading from the streaks of his white hair. “But I want you – god, you’re so beautiful tonight. Need to fuck you good—”

Gojo Satoru, one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire South East Asia and ranked as the second richest man in his early twenties, was a man of his word despite his reputation. Just as he was praised and fawned over for his beauty, charisma, and power, he was equally hated for breaking the hearts of women and treating his past ‘lovers’ like they were objects. The news were so confident of it; that he fooled them, played around with them, but behind the scenes, you knew Satoru wouldn’t do such a thing – from the first time he laid his eyes on someone, he made it extremely clear they were not to be attached. Everything with him was physical and sensual – anything beyond that would simply be out of character.

You weren’t surprised that he really did keep his word and fuck you good, because you couldn’t feel your legs the next morning and even though it had been hours, you still very much felt the shape of him carve through you.

The bastard wouldn’t stop laughing, of course, snickering under his breath every now and then each time he saw you grimace from doing simple things such as standing up and giving him the files he asked for. Perhaps it was because your dislike for him was apparent that Satoru quickly went back to fooling around, pretending you didn’t exist and only approaching you when need be. There were still moments you had to clean his mess up for him; taking his drunken phone calls at 3am because he got wasted in a bar, or doing the same for his current sex buddy who he didn’t want to stay in his home.

He was terrible, terribly awful that you despised this part of him.

You were only grateful enough that neither of you brought that night up ever again, for no matter how immensely hellish of an experience it had been, it was also something you’d really rather not be reminded of.

But now, there was no more running away from it. The truth stared at you blatantly in the form of two white lines that had appeared four times already from previous tests.

You were pregnant.

The world had never been that heavy on you. You had a rough upbringing, but it was a household filled with love and patience that it was innate in your nature to keep strong, be levelled, continue moving forward even during the times it felt like everyone and everything was going against you. You’d been through so much worse and you can do this, but you still couldn’t stop the tears that pushed from your eyes, your heart shattering the same time you dropped the stick.

“No, we won’t cry, it’s okay. I can handle this – I’m strong,” you repeated to yourself like a mantra, taking deep breaths to stabilize yourself. Clearly, this was unexpected, but you wanted to do your best, had to do your best. You didn’t have time to lose your composure, so you quickly fished your phone out your purse to dial the person you trusted the most.

“Rei...?”

Your best friend picked up on the second dial. “Sweetheart, where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for like hours now and you’re not picking up, I heard you called in sick for work and you never do that even when you’re about to pass out!” Some shuffling could be heard from the background before she spoke again, her tone a lot more gentle in response to your muted sniffles. “Is there something going on? Do you need me to drop by there right now? Tell me what you need; I’ll be there right away.”

“No, no, Rei, it’s fine, I just...”

“Sweetie,” she sighed, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see it. Rei had been there for you in everything, starting from when you newly arrived in the city; fresh-eyed and hopeful for new opportunities. She’d been there when you first complained your boss was a creepy flirt, all the way until you’d made peace with said boss and remained firm in your boundaries. But those boundaries had clearly been crossed – no, rather, you erased those boundaries. You were drunk enough to give in to the need to be touched, but sober enough to consent to everything that happened. You couldn’t place this all on him.

“I’m pregnant,” you said eventually, voice barely above a whisper as you added, “And Satoru’s the father.”

Rei stopped munching on her – you assume – bagel.

“Satoru? Gojo Satoru, your boss, bonafide casanova, the face on billboards and one of the most “eligible” bachelors in the country, billionaire Gojo Satoru?” she let out in one breath, the image of her flipping her hand out in the air in disbelief as clear as day. “Am I really hearing this right? I’m not going crazy, am I?”

You sighed.

“We were drunk. I slept with him.”

“Did that bastard force himself on you?”

“No, gosh, never,” you defended with widened eyes, sitting back down on the toilet with the lid now closed. You couldn’t look at the tests even if you dared yourself to, the plastic bag concealed in the garbage or else you’d feel sick all over again. “I-I wanted it too...we just got carried away and the night was just...I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me and why I did that, but there’s no point in fretting about it because I’m carrying his baby now.”

“Well,” she started unsurely, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m keeping it. There’s no way I would even consider abortion.”

“But what about him?”

The back of your head throbbed in pain. Just thinking about his stupidly handsome face made you want to throw up once more. “I don’t really want to tell him, but he has a right to know that he’s going to be a father.”

“Will he even take responsibility for it?”

You swallowed nervously, nibbling on your thumbnails before snatching your hand away. Composure was something you didn’t struggle with; you were the more reliable one in the duo of you and Satoru, but you had a bad habit of picking on your nails whenever you were anxious. Had it not been for Satoru flicking your nails away from your mouth each time you dazed out a little bit, you would’ve never gotten rid of the habit, but it all came crashing back down on you in an instant.

A heavy knot formed in your belly.

“Most likely not, I know how he’s like. He loves his single life so much that he’d never allow to be tied down like this. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he tells me he doesn’t want it.”

“What an asshole!”

“Yeah, he is, but I don’t need him in my life,” you reinstated, finally feeling more confident the longer you talked to Rei. She was your instant hype machine in more ways than one; her presence itself gave you the reassurance you could handle everything your way. With hope blooming in your chest, you picked yourself of the toilet and wiped away your tears. You could do this – you can handle this. Not just for you, but this baby growing in you as well.

“In our life. I’m more than capable of taking care of the baby myself,” you told her, gaze hard and determined as your sunken reflection stared back at you in the mirror. Sighing, you shook your head and pictured Satoru’s face, already picturing a thousand ways this could go wrong. Only one way to find out.

“I have to go now. He needs to hear about this and then I’ll resign. Probably move back home – anywhere that’s away from him.”

“Doesn’t the baby deserve to meet their dad?”

“Their dad doesn’t even want to be one,” you muttered bitterly and threw your sweater back on, refusing to kick yourself around any harder. Now wasn’t the time to be illogical; you were now a mother and had to be responsible now more than ever. But first, you needed some well-deserved rest after endless agonizing of missing your period, along with the baby drop that until now, had shook you to your core. “I’ll call you back, Rei. I’m very tired.”

“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” Humming in response, you ended the call and crawled back to bed.

It wasn’t that you felt lonely, but you didn’t feel particularly belonging anywhere. You were far from home in a city that felt like the future, and each day you come home, it was mostly just a place to rest before you went back to work the next day. It was a dull, empty routine that you’d gotten used to, but never had it sunk deep into you that you did felt completely hollow.

But not anymore.

You were with your baby now, and as much as it scared you shitless to be a mother with zero preparation and knowledge, you were confident things were going to be okay.

Wrapping an arm around your belly, you had the best sleep you’d had in years.

You’d just have to worry about tomorrow. Hopefully, and you quite prayed harder than you ever did before, Satoru would let you go and keep things less complicated than it already was.

“No,” Satoru shook his head, his words dropping like a heavy boulder in the middle of nowhere. You stood in front of him shock still, hands wrung solid beneath your belly. Satoru merely shook his head, brushing back his gelled hair with a dry laugh. “No, what are you even thinking? You’re not resigning.”

You pursed your lips. “I wasn’t really asking for permission, Sir.”

Truth be told, you expected this sort of reaction from him. It may be true that you and Satoru never got along in personal levels since he was too crass and you much stiff, but it couldn’t be denied you worked well together. You balanced each other’s flaws and brought out the best in one another. If someone had asked you years ago prior to you being employed by the heir if you could even tame the renowned free spirited man, you would’ve said probably not, but after sharing struggles and quite literally forcing one another to do better, you both reached highs neither expected to achieve.

It was an experience and a whole lot lessons learned working with him.

Unfortunately, all things must come to an end, and you had to leave even if Satoru negated to it.

“We’ve been working together for years. Do you know how many people I fired and have resigned all because they’re not equipped for the job?” he plopped down atop his desk, loosening his tie out of frustration. The simple gesture made you swallow and look away – it felt impossible to look at him any other way than a boss now that you had his baby inside you. Thankfully, Satoru was mouthy as usual that he pulled you back from your train of thoughts as he gestured between the both of you. “You and I are perfectly compatible – I can’t let you go like that. I’m sorry, but I need you. There’s no one else I can work with this functionally. No one else is as willing to tolerate my bullshit except you and...I need you to stay.”

You clenched your teeth at the desperation in his voice.

Satoru admitting he needed people was one thing. But him asking others to stay? It may have just been for your value as the only person who had put up with him in both his best and worst times that made him feel that way, but you had to keep your foot down on the ground.

You wouldn’t let him sway you like this.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and willed all your energy to spring forth. “Sir...I’m more than thankful for all the opportunities, it truly was a pleasure working with you but—”

“Is this because we slept together?” he cut you off, your shoulders tensing. Upon your silence, Satoru heaved himself away from the desk and took cautious step towards you, stopping a foot away when you stepped back defensively.

You almost wished you didn’t know him so well. His eyes shone with a flicker of hurt before he masked it just as quick as it had came – for Gojo Satoru was a master of many things, and a great actor was one of them. Cautious, you had to be cautious, and you clenched your fists behind your pencil skirt as you tore your gaze away from his pleading ones. “It is, isn’t it?” he affirmed with a clear of his throat, looking just as lost as you did. Satoru stuttered for a minute before he eventually composed himself, but even then, he didn’t sound half as sure as he wanted to be.

“Listen, whatever happened that night, we can forget about it if you want. We’re both adults and professionals – we can put this aside us and just go back to normal. You don’t have feelings for me, right? So then it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Satoru...it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded, aggravated. Satoru began to round his desk and pulling out little white envelopes, stacking them before you in a haste. “Do you want a pay raise? A new car so you could get to work easily? O-or perhaps a bigger house where you can work more comfortably, somewhere nearer to the office? All you have to do is tell me and I’ll give you what you want. There’s no need for you to resign, this company has given you everything and we’ve got so much offer just as you could still be great—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Satoru’s slender fingers halted around the pen hovering over a cheque slip. “What?”

“I said I’m pregnant,” you exhaled, biting down on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from quivering. A quick sweep from your face to gather sincerity trailed down to your belly, staring at you hard enough as if he had the ability to look through your soul. “And you’re the father.”

“Is that true? Is...is it really mine?”

“Yes sir,” you nodded, “I’m not telling you this because I expect that you’ll be responsible for it. No offense, sir, but I’d really rather raise the baby alone. Plus, I understand that you’ll never settle down or suddenly abandon your old ways just to—”

“Stop right there,” he raised a palm, “You mean to tell me you’re resigning because you thought I wouldn’t take responsibility for it? For you?”

The hurt in his voice and expressions were evident, lip curled in disgust; not for you, but rather of himself. Satoru was the type of man that couldn’t be withered down even with the harshest of rumours; you’d never seen him be affected before by tabloids and nasty ex-girlfriends who only slept with him for money or fame, only to talk smack about him afterwards. But now, he was crumbling before you, and you didn’t know quite what to say or feel over the vulnerability present in his cerulean eyes. It almost pained you know that you caused this – for the comforting, blue sky to be tainted with a thunderstorm that hinted of anger, of disappointment, of betrayal.

But could he blame you for not thinking the best of him?

“I’ve worked with you for years, sir, I know you.”

“Clearly not well enough,” he chuckled sarcastically, “Admittedly, I’m surprised, but not upset. The only thing that I’m upset about is that you actually believed it would be better to raise the baby – our baby – alone like I don’t even have a right to be in their life. Sure, it was an accident, but we made that. That’s our child and I’m going to take care of you and be a great father, even if you don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Sir, I didn’t mean—”

“That’s the first time you said something stupid. That’s our baby. We’re a family now,” Satoru’s hesitance had vanished into thin air as he was on you the next instant, hands shaky before they landed on your shoulders. It was meant to be a comforting gesture; a reassuring one, yet you couldn’t help but flinch and falter under his gaze. As if getting the message, he quickly retracted his hands and shoved them deep inside his pockets with a sigh. “You don’t need to resign or worry about anything else. I promise I’ll give you both the life you deserve, just...just please don’t go. Now that I know we have a baby, there’s just no way I can let go of this and pretend I never heard of this at all.”

You swallowed, rubbing your sweaty palms on your skirt.

Out of all the different scenarios you stayed up late at night to turning your head in one by one, none of them included this. Undeniably, he was an asshole to most, but maybe he was right.

He hadn’t done anything wrong to you and he was still the father of your baby; he deserved a chance. Satoru had the right to be the father he was willing to be. You could already tell this might completely turn into one big mess, but his eyes were so hopeful, his smile so nervous yet expectant that you couldn’t help but say –

“Okay,” you relented.

His reaction was instantaneous. Satoru beamed and lounged at you, arms wide open for an embrace before realizing at the last second you could stab him with a pen and not regret it. One warning glare sent his way and he was retracing his arm behind his head, pretending to stretch with an off-tune whistle.

The sudden switch between pained and enthusiastic gave you whiplash, but you really shouldn’t be surprised. This was Gojo Satoru in the first place – he was as unpredictable as nothing was permanent and lasting to him.

It could be both a blessing and a curse.

For the sake of your baby, you genuinely hoped it was the former.

Not wanting him to get too ahead of himself since you still didn’t trust him enough, you raised a finger to poke him in the chest. Right now, you were no longer his secretary that openly despised him but added six sugar cubes in his coffee just as he liked anyway, but rather a woman who shared this mess with him, and as the mother of his child. You had to be strong. Being with Satoru felt like playing with fire, and you had far too much at stake – both of you did – but you weren’t privileged and fortunate like Satoru. One bad thing thrown his way could be brushed off, but for you? Everything you worked hard for could disappear just like that.

If you really chose now to play with fire, you had to be careful not to be the gasoline that ignited things to burn down into ashes.

“Satoru,” you stressed with your lips pressed into a thin line, “The only thing I expect from you is to be is a good father to our child. I know that it would be difficult for you to be a new person in a day and that your old habits won’t die right away, so please do what you can to be a good parent, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promise you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your life as well.”

His smile slowly vanished.

“Is that how low you really think of me?” he echoed rather sadly, “That I would still sleep around knowing I’ve got a family now?”

“We’re not a family, Sir. I have no intentions of marrying you nor would I ever want it. I’m just staying for the baby.”

“Fine. For the baby, let’s both do our best,” he crossed his arms on his chest, pumping out the hard muscles from how tight his shirt was. You were stuck between wanting to slap him or be closer to him; the hormones too much of a mess that you had to grip your thigh for restraint. “But tomorrow, you’re moving in with me. I’m going to take care of you from now on – I’ll get you whatever you need so whatever it is, just tell me. My credit card is yours to use as well.”

Move in with him? You wanted to laugh. That was the last thing you would want to happen.

“Sir, it’s fine, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but I want to take care of you both,” he reiterated, growing slightly annoyed from your rigidness. You professed that you were being difficult right now, but it was much better than being easy around someone like him.

“We don’t have to be friends or lovers, alright? I know you don’t see me that way and I’m probably repulsive in your eyes – which is understandable since you always clean my mess up for me – but as a father, at least, let me do my job. There doesn’t have to be anything between us other than a mutual want to be good parents. Is that alright with you?”

You mulled the thought over in your head. So he was capable of being sensible sometimes, and after a few moments of silence, you narrowed your eyes at him.

Still suspicious and your guard was most definitely still up, but he was right. You both had a mutual want to be good parents and that was the most important thing right now. Everything else that complicated matters would be handled afterwards.

“I’m okay with that, but I would have to set down lots of boundaries if I’m living with you.”

“So you’ll really stay with me then?” You regretted nodding in response because Satoru was now fishing his phone out, a goofy smile on his face.

He took the news...surprisingly well, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Perfect! I’ll have your room prepared!” You tried to grab his arm to stop him from going overboard; knowing full well Satoru always had rushes in which he impulsively overdoes things. He might turn your room into some sort of grand suite that you wouldn’t really like, but he was far too excited and lost in his own thoughts that your words went from one ear and out the other. “Fuck,” he laughed to himself, “I’m going to be a dad.”

Whether it was relief or anxiety that bubbled through you, you had no idea.

It was definitely anxiety.

Satoru felt like a hyper child to be around, and as much as you were grateful that he was happy about this, you also wished he would calm down. You didn’t even have enough chance to settle in before he’s shoving you inside room by room, announcing that what was his was also yours and he would have a baby room set up next week.

You followed him around like a puppy as he marched into the kitchen, mumbling incoherently to himself about baby proofing furniture.

“Sir,” you called out, “Sir, listen to me. We need to talk about boundaries.”

Satoru blinked owlishly at your tired eyes, sheepishly smiling at you. It must’ve dawned on him that his speed tour of his penthouse felt a lot more overwhelming than welcoming, and he sat you down on the island stools before drumming his fingers impatiently on the cool marble. “Sorry, you were saying? I kind of got carried away.”

Carried away was far an understatement.

“I said, we need to talk about boundaries.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” he paused with a furrow in his brow. “Also can you just call me Satoru? We’re going to be parents anyway and it’s awkward if you keep uh, calling me Sir.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, not really in the mood to argue with him right now. You had to keep intact with him while you still had his full attention. Taking out a little notepad you prepared the night before, you slid it over Satoru who tilted his head to the side rather cutely to read it. “So here are my boundaries. One, I don’t want this pregnancy to be announced in the media unless I’m ready. I understand that we can’t keep this a secret forever but I need time to process this. Two, just because we’re living in the same roof together doesn’t mean that I get to go anywhere and everywhere with you. I’m going to work by myself—”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I said no,” he repeated more firmly this time. “You’re pregnant and I want to make sure you’re safe at all times. I’m driving you to work.”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said? I don’t want to be seen with you.”

“You’re my secretary. People see us together all the time.”

“But you never drove me to work! I live far from the office and I most definitely don’t drive an Audi.”

“Things change, that’s your life now,” Satoru shrugged nonchalantly, stealing the pen you twirled in your hands. The sudden contact sent jolts of electricity from your knuckles, one that had you recanting your hands back to yourself. Satoru didn’t seem to notice as he crosses out the second rule, “Sorry not sorry but I don’t want to let you go places like that. Fine by me if you don’t want me to drive you, but at least have one of the chauffeurs take you somewhere if you really don’t wanna be seen with me.”

“Fine,” you gritted your teeth. Compromise, compromise, meet in the middle – you repeated to yourself to keep your sanity. “Rule number three: I don’t want you changing your attitude around me. We may have a baby on the way, but you’re still my boss and I want to keep our relationship professional.”

“You’re saying I’m not allowed to fall in love with you?”

You flicked his forehead, effectively erasing the teasing grin he wore. “That’s not going to happen,” you interjected irritably, although your heart skip a beat. That was a massive red flag already; you could never be too comfortable with him. For Satoru, his little comments here and there may come naturally and probably meant nothing to him, but there was a chance you could receive it with different interpretations. Shaking your head at him, you ignored his grumblings on how ‘mean’ you were. “We’re never going to be a couple. We’re just raising a child together. I don’t want you acting weird or too comfortable with me.”

Satoru scratched the side of his head as he mulled about it, “Are we allowed to be friends, at least? I understand the professional part, but I can’t imagine the both of us getting along for nine months and more when we act like boss and employee even alone at home,” before you could say anything, Satoru raised his hands in surrender. “I promise I won’t do anything weird to you. No offense, but you’re not really my type, so same as you, I view you platonically.”

Right. The heart surely was stupid and confusing.

You didn’t want him getting any ideas that this could lead to something more, but at the same time, it hurt a little to know you weren’t his type.

Hiding that pang of hurt behind a tight lipped smile, you forced yourself to agree with him. “I view you professionally, Sir.”

“Satoru.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled. “Rule number four: don’t bring home any of your fuck buddies or flavour of the night. I really don’t care if you sleep around, but respect my privacy and my standing as the mother of your childIf you’re really desperate to get your dick wet, go fuck them somewhere else.”

“You’ve never been this vulgar with me.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Despite countless of times that he tried being friendly with you to ease your stiffness in the office, you always shot him down.

You came to the city to work and provide for your family, not to be friends with your annoyingly hot boss who enjoyed his life way too much. Unlike him, you were more work than play, and eventually Satoru respected the fact you would never speak or treat him casually.

Until now.

“Try being in my shoes and see if you’d still have the patience of a saint,” you mumbled under your breath, sighing when Satoru’s smile got more awkward. “Listen, Satoru, I don’t mean to be difficult, okay? It’s just...this is a lot. This isn’t just us about anymore – we’re going to be parents and that’s a huge responsibility. It’s not only our lives changing here, a child will be relying on us in the future and I simply want to be a good mother, but I also don’t trust you very well to be comfortable enough to act like we’re suddenly friends.”

“I understand that.”

“Good.”

“Do you have rule number five?”

“No, not really, but I can add more as we go.”

“I have a rule number five,” he piped in, flipping the notepad his way as he scribbled something down. “And it’s that if you need help – and I mean with anything – you would let me help you. I’ve worked with you for a long time and I’m not dumb enough to not notice you like to do things by yourself. Like you said, things are different now, and especially with this pregnancy, you’re not alone in this. You need to let me take over the wheel sometimes. I can’t be just a passenger in the car – you and I are both in this together.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself.”

“That’s easy,” he chirped, and there was that uncomfortable knot in your chest again. However, it didn’t sink in too deep because Satoru was blatantly staring at your belly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So do we have a name for them already?”

“Satoru, I’ve only been a few weeks pregnant, I don’t—”

Conflicting his previous statement that he’d keep his hands to himself, Satoru suddenly dropped to his knees. You watched with wide eyes, too flabbergasted to move as he places his ear on your belly.

“Hi there, little one,” he spoke in a soft tone, large hands caressing the tiny bump beginning to form. You couldn’t move; hell, you could barely breathe from how comforting his touch seemed in contrast to your mind ringing warning bells above. His voice quickly pulled you back to reality as he flattened his palm, white lashes fluttering against the cotton of your shirt. “I’m your daddy; I can’t wait to meet you. Daddy promises to take good care of you and make you the happiest kid ever, alright? You don’t have to worry about anything as long as I’m here.”

“D-don’t spoil them too much, Satoru.”

“I’ll try not to,” he chuckled. Satisfied with that small moment he had, he straightened up and trudged over the dining table that was far too big for a man who lived alone. In that moment, an image flashed in your mind – that someday that table would no longer look empty as you and your child shared meals with him. You could already imagine how heavenly the sun would shine on the glass windows behind it, the flowers gathered in the middle of the table blooming to life.

Out of nowhere, it struck you.

Could it be that this was why he loved this baby so much after only knowing about it for a few days? Could it be that Satoru really was alone?

“Okay, we should probably have a welcoming dinner! The chefs left me something tonight. I forgot what it’s called but I think you’ll like it. Grab some wine on the cellar for me?”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, right! My bad,” he clapped his hands together before pulling out ceramics and a cold pitcher, “Just water for mommy then,” Satoru said absentmindedly, completely oblivious to how your mind short-circuited a few feet away from him. He went about his way ignorant to it all and gently tugged you to sit with him, eagerly digging into the heated meals as you realized both of you hadn’t eaten.

For a guy who talked a lot, dinner with him was surprisingly quiet. Other than the occasional clinking of utensils against the plate, you enjoyed the silence with him.

You wouldn’t have believed it to be possible since Satoru made it his daily business to always fill in the gaps. Peace and comfort stretched before you the whole time, however, that for a moment, just a short moment, you found yourself letting your guard down. Even when you both caught each other’s in the middle of a bite, you found no tension or awkwardness in it. Perhaps it was the familiarity of being beside each other for years now that this should feel natural, or maybe it was because you both mutually agreed on wanting the best for your baby. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to overcomplicate it right now.

“You know, I’m really excited about this. I can’t believe I’m actually going to be a father,” he mused through a bite, swirling his red wine through his glass. Satoru gazed at his reflection almost dreamily, seemingly too deep in thought that he felt far from reach.

Or maybe you were the one who was detached, the one who kept pushing him away, because you could offer him nothing but a lame nod. “I’m glad to hear that...”

“What about you? You don’t look too happy.”

Your eyes widened at his worry. “No, I-I’m happy, of course. It’s just...it’s unplanned, and I’ve had my whole life planned out that I’m not really sure how this will all fall into place together.”

“Hey,” he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing warmth back into your skin that you hadn’t noticed turned cold from the nerves. Unlike his usual self with eyes brimming with glee, you could only see tenderness in him now, some sort of silent vow through a private smile shared only between the two of you in that moment in the solace of his home. Your home. “I promise I’ll be there for you and the baby every step of the way. I know that I haven’t had the best reputation and I have zero idea on parenting, but you’re not alone in this. You can trust me on this one, just like how we always trusted each other during work. Being a parent and running a business are both responsibilities right?”

“Yeah...”

“Well then you already know we work well together. We’re great partners!” he cheered, patting your shoulder way too bro-like. You resisted the urge to cringe. “We’ll be great parents, Y/N. I’m sure of that.”

Unsure of what else to do, you squeezed his hand back. He was right, you would be great parents as long as both of you never gave up. The thought of eating meals with him again with another addition to the table made you smile, and you hadn’t noticed you were spacing out, thumb running over his knuckles that were smooth for a man who never knew a day of hard labour. It wasn’t until you felt something prodding at you metaphorically, and you chuckled nervously as you saw Satoru smiling mysteriously at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” he grinned, “I’ve just never seen you this close before; not so much that I paid attention anyway. But this is nice – having you here, I mean. It gets lonely here sometimes.”

“Don’t you bring your girlfriends around?”

“I never make them stay,” was all he said, and just like that, whatever thread that was beginning to form snapped. Satoru released his hold on you and gestured to your plate, carrying the dishes in his hand before leaving you alone on the table. Like always – a whiplash. “I’ll clean up, you can rest in your room now. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Do you even know how to do them?”

“Yeah, my mother forced me to wash dishes because she didn’t want me to rely on the house help too much,” he informed, the new information shocking you right to the core as he put on dishwashing gloves and started scrubbing. From this angle, he sure looked damn nice and domestic in just a white shirt, hair ruffled down to bangs. “I’ll be right there with you,” Satoru announces casually, spinning on his heel with red cheeks once he realized what he said. “For just a goodnight, I mean! We’re not sharing rooms!”

“Yeah, no,” you coughed out, “We’re definitely not.”

It felt…surreal, to wake up in a room much grandiose than yours yet felt like home even for the first night. Satoru handled your moving in rather happily; you found him singing to himself this morning as he brewed his own coffee before realizing you were right behind him, sleepy as you lazily made waffles for the both of you. Everything flowed nicely and normally, like this had always been a normal thing that for a moment, you questioned once more what would happen next.

You were now getting ready for work, hands tugging at his tie because he was such a man-child who couldn’t even properly knot his own tie. His suit was custom tailored and he looked effortlessly gorgeous – beauty ripped straight from magazines he was constantly a front page of, but his tie was skewered and loose that it irritated you.

“You’re such a mess without me.”

Satoru bent down to wiggle his brows at you, thought you didn’t notice because he wouldn’t stay still for you to fix his tie fast enough. “Isn’t this sweet; you fixing my tie for me as we both get ready for work?” he teased, “We’re like a married couple already.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m kicking you in the nuts.”

“Then how can I give you more babies?” picking up the newspaper on the coffee table beside you, you rolled it and started whacking him, a string of profanities colorfully painting his otherwise monochrome and sleek walls. Satoru’s laughter boomed all over the room even as he wiggled away from you, clutching his bicep that had been the victim of your abuse. “Ow, ow, I was joking! Jeez, woman, you are strong. Fight men a lot like this?”

“I work with you. My fighting instincts are always activated.”

His laugh really was annoying. But it did help ease your nerves – though you’d never tell him that – as you sat beside him in his car, the expensive leather seats no longer strange to you. It would’ve felt like any other day where you accompanied him somewhere, except the reason was different now, and it came crashing down on you of your current situation that things were undeniably different from now on.

You immediately stepped away from him the moment you got out of the car, clutching your clipboard to your tummy when Satoru bumped his shoulder with yours. “Come closer, it’s fine. No one will suspect a thing,” he points to the crowded building with people bumping and walking past each other, everyone too occupied in their own heads to even notice you.

It wasn’t much, but hearing his voice and reassurances relaxed you, even for just a little bit. Maybe your first day at work after the baby news wouldn’t be so bad, after all, but it seemed you had spoken too early.

Satoru heavily insisted that you worked inside his office from now on.

Your desk was located right outside his office, the phone line always within reach in case you needed to pass calls to him or if he needed you to come. Satoru preferred the privacy of his own space – or so he said; he actually just didn’t want you to witness him slacking around and experience your wrath – but now he was dragging you inside his office, pushing your shoulders down until you were ‘settled in.’

You didn’t even want to ask where he got a new desk from, or why it had to be right across from him. His desk remained elevated on a few levels, the welcoming lobby of the room filled with couches and stacks of coffee with a rich amount of sugar cubes.

Safe to say, most of the morning was spent (or rather, wasted) on you telling Satoru off. The man was too persistent, coming in on the office at random times of the hour with either snacks or heaps of biscuits on his arms. He always greeted you with a wide grin on his face, only to be kicked out of his own office because you had his hellish schedule and events to deal with. That was around three hours ago when you’d asked him to shut up and go bother someone else. You were halfway around finishing your workload for today when the door swung open, a tuft of white hair and mischievous eyes peeking through.

“Hey! Just checking in on mommy—”

“Satoru!”

“What? It’s just you and I,” he defended with a shrug, welcoming himself inside. Surprisingly, he was empty handed, though the pout on his lips told you it was against his will. “Seriously though, do you need anything? Do you want snacks? Tea? Do you need help going to the bathroom? You haven’t moved in your desk for an hour now.”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant, not disabled,” you ignored him for a while, resuming to working back on his schedule for the month. There were a bunch of e-mails you still had to respond to, which normally wouldn’t be such a daunting task if Satoru wasn’t shifting his weight from one foot to another, the sounds of his shoes hitting the tiles in an annoying click-clack rhythm getting to you. “Will you stop fidgeting! Your anxiety gives me anxiety, stop that!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I just feel like there’s something I should be doing.”

“Shutting up and letting me work in peace would be great, thank you.”

“You really don’t need anything?” Sending him a warning glare, Satoru sucked in his cheeks and ran back to his desk where he hid behind the safety of his large monitor. “Nope, yeah, I got the message: leave you alone. Good luck with that then, I’ll need those archives to pull up for our meeting with the directors later at five.”

Muttering a sarcastic finally under your breath, you resumed working.

The routine was per usual – answer the calls professionally with a welcoming and sweet voice, a pen always in one hand to jot down notes in reminders, adjust his schedules, work out his plans, go to him whenever he needed to sign something before responding back to e-mails. You were focused as you always were, but someone wasn’t, and it was getting harder and harder to keep being placated.

It didn’t help that he made no effort to hide the fact he was slacking off, the tip-taps of him randomly pressing keys on the keyboard similar to a fork dragging down a plate.

“I can feel you burning holes at the back of my head,” you twittered, “What do you need?”

“Nothing at all. I’m just realizing how beautiful you are right now.”

You paused. Unable to deny your curiosity over how serious he sounded, you spun around in your swivel chair. Satoru had his chin on his hands as he stared right back at you, his face devoid of expression that you couldn’t pick up on a single clue. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Of course the bastard would be teasing you, his loud chuckles a painful reminder of that. It was best to ignore him, so you went back to reading e-mails and forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. “We’re at work. Please stop distracting me; I can’t focus when you’re staring at me like a creep.”

“Sorry, babe, I’ll try to be less distracting next time, though I can’t control my charisma, you know!”

You jotted your thumb to your desk outside, “I can walk back to my desk where you can’t see me. That’d be a great for both of us.”

“Stay right there, I was joking!”

“Do you promise to be quiet and actually do your job if I stay?”

“With you disciplining and ordering me around like that, why not?” Mouth open for another heated retort, Satoru stopped you before you could say anything, his aura more serious this time. He was always like this; fooling around and maturing the next second, only for the cycle to repeat and test your patience. “I’m just teasing you, Y/N, I’ll shut up now. You’re free to end work as soon as you’re tired though; the driver is waiting in the parking lot whenever you want to go home.”

“I’ll go home with you.” Home. It felt weird to say that, but also…natural.

“You’ll stay with me at work today?” He sounded genuinely surprised, and you responded with a one-shoulder shrug. That seemed to be enough for him, however, and it wasn’t long before Satoru found the oh so rare and fleeting motivation to work hard.

Once he was settled, sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms and brows furrowed as he centered all his attention on the pile of paperwork before him, there was no stopping him.

Roles reversed and positions switched, you were now the one unable to take your eyes off him.

In this light, in this moment, Gojo Satoru had never looked more beautiful. He was much the same as you in the manner you never really noticed each other this way before; not romantically, but even just person to person. In your eyes, he was nothing but your irritating boss whose boisterous self always crowded over your peace, and in his eyes, you were nothing but his secretary who he knew always silently hoped would leave you alone.

But things were different now. You were different now.

Boundaries there may be, you couldn’t help that fluttering forming in your stomach. Contentment, happiness, relief, nervousness – all of them jumbled into one big mess. Out of them all, however, there was most definitely adoration, either out of respect for his unexpected kindness, or simply because it felt nice to feel for once.

Turning away from him until your back was the only thing he could see, you hid your smile as you secretly held your belly.

You’d never been reckless before, but what was to be a good story when there wasn’t a mistake or two made?

2K notes · View notes

golchaworld · 4 years

Text

Brown Sugar, Cinnamon Spice | H. HJ

pairing: baker!hyunjin x wedding planner!reader, (implied fem!reader), various celebrity cameos

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, a pinch of angst

word count: 5.4k

warnings: none!

summary: amidst stress and loneliness, you find your own decadence.

A/N: this is probably the longest fic I’ve written in the shortest amount of time! This only took me a few days start to finish. I guess I was super in love with the concept, and I hope y’all are too. As always, comments, critiques, and feedback are welcome and encouraged. My ask box is always open. Enjoy :D

You swear you’re going to die from a sugar overdose. Not from the piece of red velvet cheesecake sitting in front of you, but instead from the gazes that the couple in front of you shares. They fuss and coo, feeding each other different types of cake with disgustingly sweet smiles on their faces. It would be cute...if you didn’t have to deal with this everyday.

Planning weddings was always your dream. There was something so whimsical about the aura of weddings, the aura of love, that was always destroyed by the stress of planning. Ever since you were little, you vowed to take as much stress off of engaged couples as possible, in order to let them bask in the excitement of getting married.

Four years after college, and here you are, the best wedding planner in the city. The best wedding planner in the city, and absolutely, devastatingly single.

It’s not that you expected to be happily married by 25, but it would be nice to at least have a boyfriend, a significant other, someone. But no, instead you’re forced to help happy couples as they live out your dream. All too often you find yourself wishing you were in the place of the bride-to-be, having a fiancé to fawn over.

It’s sad, really, the way you watch the couple across from you as they bask in their pre-marital bliss. Every glance feels intimate. Every spoonful that they feed to each other feels private. You smile sadly before clearing your throat.

“I’ll leave you two to go through more of the cakes. Let me know when you guys make a decision. I’ll be waiting up front.”

The couple dismisses you with a wave, barely taking their eyes off of each other. You just set your shoulders and smooth out the blouse that’s tucked artfully into your skirt. Your heels make a satisfying click as you make your way to the front counter, adorned with cases of pastries and other sinful sweets. It’s the one behind the counter, however, that makes your head fill with sugar.

Hwang Hyunjin was more than just a familiar face. He was a college acquaintance, mutual friends always having the two of you running into each other. After graduation, the two of you were the only ones who decided to stay in the city, some twisted stab of fate bringing you closer.

You can say he’s your glorified best friend. The two of you aren’t exactly the closest, but you see each other often enough that conversation has moved from awkward to easy, distant to friendly. It also helps that the both of you have entered a sort of...business agreement.

You send any couples needing to taste cakes to his bakery first. When anyone comes to him with an order for a large event that needs planning, he sends them your way.

Now, the man just looks relaxed, smiling at you with a streak of white flour on his cheek. He leans one arm against the counter and you struggle not to look down at the way it flexes. Hyunjin always said that baking proves to be a full body workout. You can’t help but agree.

“Which one are they leaning towards?” Hyunjin asks in lieu of greeting.

“No idea.” You scrunch your nose in disgust. “They were too busy feeding each other and flirting to make any actual judgements about the cake.”

Hyunjin giggles in that unique way of his, high pitched and muted. His cheeks scrunch up, causing crow’s feet to form around his eyes. The flour flakes off in some spots.

“You can’t blame them,” Hyunjin teases. “They’re in love. Unlike a certain grumpy pants over here.”

You scoff at his insinuations.

“Don’t be jealous, Y/N.”

“I am not jealous! It would just make my life a lot easier if they just chose the damn cake.”

Hyunjin cocks an eyebrow. “Which one of us is actually baking it again?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut it, Hyunjin.”

The bell above the door chimes, announcing the arrival of a new wave of customers. Hyunjin shoots a wink your way before heading over to the cash register. He has on his salesman smile, and that alone has the group of girls in front of him swooning.

In college, Hwang Hyunjin was the mega-hot culinary business student who never slept around and went to church every Sunday. Now Hyunjin is the mega-hot baker-slash-bakery owner who may or may not sleep around but still goes to church every Sunday. It’s fair to say that the entire city is in love with him.

They have a right to be, of course. Hyunjin is a hot, young, single guy who bakes for crying out loud. He specializes in wedding cakes. What 26 year old man specializes in wedding cakes?

Hyunjin, the anomaly that he is, is the apple of everyone’s eye, a diamond in the rough, a sweet lawn in the concrete jungle. He’s a breath of fresh air, coated in sugary sweetness.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him.

Even now, you watch how he makes small talk with his customers, how he shoots them small smiles and flirty winks. He lays the charm on thick; anything to get them to buy an extra cannoli, he says. And like a moth to a flame, you’re drawn in. You’re drawn into his sweet smile, his long blonde hair, the beauty mark under his left eye. It leaves you with a sugar rush.

Eventually, you’re called back to reality by your clients approaching. They decide on a simple yellow cake with the strawberry and vanilla pudding filling. Internally, you smile, knowing that it’s Hyunjin’s best seller...obviously for a reason.

You leave the couple with a reassurance that you’ll set up an appointment with Hyunjin to go over the design of the cake. They mentioned that they already have pre-determined cake toppers, and you fight not to roll your eyes. It’s always the cheesiest when the couples pick their own toppers.

You plaster on a smile and wave them goodbye, watching as the door closes behind them with a soft thud, the bell above still chiming. You glance down at your wristwatch and sigh. You have 15 minutes to get to Yeji’s dress fitting, all the way across the city. You straighten your shoulders, fix your blouse, and give Hyunjin one last glance on the way out.

He winks in return.

. . .

The catch of Hyunjin being your pseudo-best friend is that he has to take care of you. Not that you need a lot of taking care of. But at the end of a long work day, Hyunjin is always there to pick up the pieces. He always gives you a choice of desserts to make the day better, and today you choose to do so with tiramisu.

You practically groan when the first bit of coffee cream hits your tastebuds, followed by the bittersweet hint of cocoa powder. The cake is rich and moist, melting on your tongue in a way that’s not overly decadent. It’s not until you hear a chuckle from across from you do you realize that your eyes are closed.

When you open them, Hyunjin beams at you from across the counter, laughing at the way you’re indulging in your dessert.

“Stop laughing at me,” you command around a mouthful of cream.

“I’m not! It’s just,” Hyunjin tucks a blonde strand behind his ear. “You eat this tiramisu like twice a week, and every time you act like it’s the first...or like it’s going to be your last.”

“You should take it as a compliment.”

Hyunjin chuckles again. “Maybe I do.”

The bakery has a different aura at night. Instead of the lively buzz of coffee cups and sugar rushes, it’s bathed in a velvety decadence, illuminated by the subtle light of the pastry display. All of the chairs have been put up for the night, all of the leftover pastries have been discarded, all of the employees gone for the night. It just leaves you, Hyunjin, and the bold cream of tiramisu.

The first time Hyunjin had invited you to the bakery after hours, you thought he was joking. The two of you hadn’t been that close yet, and spending secluded, unstructured time together seemed like a recipe for disaster. To your surprise, however, the night was comfortable and casual, spent test-tasting various desserts and laughing over various college memories.

It surprised you how much Hyunjin embraced you when everyone else from school moved onto different things. In a city this big, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to disregard you completely. You stay up at night wondering why he didn’t.

“So, how was the fitting?”

Hyunjin looks genuinely interested as you recount the details of your day. At a certain point he even reaches for a fork, indulging in the tiramisu with you. With his cheeks full to the brim, he nods, smiles and inserts commentary wherever necessary. Hyunjin has always been the best listener.

“Why do you plan weddings if it stresses you out so much?”

You pout at Hyunjin’s questions. “Why do you run a bakery if it stresses you out so much?”

“Because I get to eat delicious treats at the end of the day.”

You smirk. “So do I.”

“Touché,” Hyunjin smiles.

The two of you are quiet for a moment, indulging in the last few bites of tiramisu. It makes you smile, the way Hyunjin is still in love with all of his desserts after having to make them all day, every day. After every bite he groans dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at the cake to say “damn you for being so good.”

When the tiramisu is finished, and all that’s left is the sound of forks scraping empty plates, Hyunjin sighs.

“Are you going to plan your own?”

“My own wedding?” When Hyunjin nods in response, you chuckle sadly. “At this point, it looks like I’ll never even have a wedding, let alone have the chance to plan it.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie. I’m sure you have suitors lining up to take your hand in marriage.”

You scoff, picking up the plate that once held your tiramisu. You deposit it in the sink full of soapy water behind the counter, along with the fork. Hyunjin grabs your arm as you get closer, forcing you to face his looming form.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

You shrug in response. “Maybe that’s the problem. My love life is such a joke that you being serious about it seems like an insult.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

“I know.”

“Then why—“

You’re quick to cut the man off. “It’s getting late, Hyunjin. I’ll see you, okay?”

You don’t wait for Hyunjin to respond, leaving the man nodding dumbly behind the counter. At the first whip of the harsh wind against your face, you groan. Hyunjin was supposed to be your ride home.

. . .

The thing about the city is that celebrity weddings are frequent. Celebrity weddings, known for their flashy, expensive decorations, and over-the-top attire single handedly wipe out your energy for the entire season. But they pay well.

The money may or may not be the reason you sit in front of the Minatozaki Sana in your office, her hand being held by her fiancé. He’s a gorgeous man, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. That much is expected as the fiancé of the top model in the country.

“So do you guys have a date in mind?” You ask the couple, a warm smile glossing over your face.

“Well,” Sana glances at her fiancé before returning your gaze. “We were hoping for November 18th.”

“Got it! So a year and a month isn’t too bad. It’s a little tight for planning, but—“

The fiancé chuckles. “Oh no, I think you’ve misunderstood. We meant November 18th, 2020. We want to get married next month.”

You can’t help the way your jaw drops. A month for a normal wedding would be hell on earth. A month for a celebrity wedding is like jumping head first into Dante’s Inferno. Your distress must be palpable, seeing as Sana’s brows furrow almost instantly.

“That’s...doable right?” She asks with wide eyes.

“Umm,” you rack your brain for words. “It’s going to be tight. Like really tight. But yes, it’s doable.”

Sana instantly lights up, clasping her fiancé’s hands in hers. “Oh wonderful! I’m so excited.”

You nod in agreement, plastering on the biggest smile you can manage.

“Oh! And one more thing!” Sana’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “I want a Hwang Cake!”

. . .

Three hours later, you’re seated across from the engaged couple as the two indulge in a plethora of different cakes and icings. Hyunjin had managed to whip them all up in such a short amount of time, not once complaining about the pinch you put him in. At some point, though, you’ll have to tell him about the month until the wedding. You’re sure you’re going to hear some complaints then.

Instead of Hyunjin being the face of the bakery today, it’s one of his employees, a short but bright boy by the name of Felix. He always wears glittery eyeshadow and a smile too big for his face, and it only adds to how endearing he is. You’d never met the human embodiment of cotton candy until Felix waltzed into the bakery on his first day of work.

With Felix manning the register, Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. The only appearance he made was to hand-deliver the test cakes to Sana and her fiancé. He greeted them with a bright smile and many thanks for choosing his bakery. He only gave you a curt nod before disappearing behind the threshold of the kitchen.

“The red velvet is to die for! Don’t you think, hun?”

Sana’s fiancé looks back at the woman as if she hung the stars, confessing his love for her and more with just one glance. Once again, you are reminded of what true love looks like. Once again, you feel jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach.

“It is. I love it with the cream cheese icing.”

Sana smiles. “I know you do. Cream cheese has always been your favorite. If only you could see that buttercream is superior.”

For a second, the couple just gaze at each other, basking in the vitality of a fresh engagement. You can tell that even though their romance was very spur of the moment, they will clearly last for a long time.

Your chest hurts.

“I think we’ll go with the red velvet and cream cheese icing.”

You’re quick to put on a smile. “Perfect! I’ll go let Hyunjin know, and then later we can make an appointment to figure out the design and aesthetics of the cake.”

“Sounds good.”

As you stand and approach the register, you can hear the couple begin to giggle to themselves, as if choosing a wedding cake flavor is the epitome of cloud nine. You suppose it might be. You wouldn’t know

Felix greets you with a smile when you arrive at the register, the corners of his eyes scrunching cutely. “How did it go?”

You can’t help but return the smile. “Good! They decided pretty quickly. Where’s Hyunjin, so I can let him know?”

“In the kitchen,” Felix points behind his shoulder with a thumb. “You can just head back there.”

“Thanks, Felix.”

You expect the hardcore rap music that’s playing through the speakers in the kitchen. It’s muted enough so that the rest of the bakery can’t hear it, but loud enough that Hyunjin can get lost in it. It’s endearing, the way he mumbles the words under his breath while he pipes bright orange frosting onto a black fondant cake. It’s always around this time that he has to perfect his Halloween treats.

You wait until he’s done piping his row before calling his attention softly. “Hyunjin? They decided.”

Hyunjin doesn’t look up. He just moves on to piping the next row while he says, “and what did they decide?”

“Red velvet with the cream cheese icing.”

“Okay. We’ll make the appointment for later in the week.”

Hyunjin’s tone carries an air of finality to it. It’s formal, cold, and all too detached. Although the two of you have never been that close, this distance is still new from you. Hyunjin has never stood in front of you and felt miles away.

“Okay.” And when he doesn’t respond, “I’ll be back later, okay? After closing.”

Hyunjin stills for a moment before continuing his piping job, the movement almost imperceptible. “Tiramisu or cannoli?”

A sticky sweet smile blooms on your face. “Cannoli.”

. . .

The shell of the cannoli crunches deliciously, breaking the silence between you and Hyunjin. It’s once again after closing, but gone is the aura of awkwardness the two of you had left behind the previous night. Hyunjin glances at you, a small smirk gracing his face.

“Is it good?”

You roll your eyes. “You know it’s good.”

“Maybe I do.” Hyunjin shrugs cutely, his white apron shifting in the process.

He looks more up-kept than usual. His long hair is tied half up by a navy blue ribbon that matches the oversized sweater he wears. He’s wearing his jewelry, all of his piercings filled with earrings, various chunky rings adorning his fingers. But when you look down, you notice he’s still wearing his trademark neon green crocs.

“Nice shoes.”

Hyunjin looks down before realizing what you’re referring to. “Oh shut up. You know they’re the comfiest for baking.”

“Maybe I do.”

You savor the taste of the whipped cream and ricotta as it hits your tongue. Hyunjin looks content to watch you enjoy the dessert, folding his arms over his chest as he eyes you. He’s not the slightest bit insecure about his work, knowing that no matter what he makes, you’ll love.

It reminds you all too much of the first time you met Hyunjin, packed together inside a way-too-crowded frat party. Changbin, a mutual friend had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you through the crowd, insisting that there was someone you had to meet. You spotted Hyunjin long before you could make your way over.

Hyunjin had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze had been disinterested, but confident, knowing that his presence alone was a gift in and of itself. At the time, he didn’t know how right he was.

“You know, I didn’t mean to insult you yesterday.”

The man’s comment has you finally looking up from your cannoli, the last bite standing frozen between your fingers. After swallowing down a mouthful of filling, you clear your throat, slowly lowering the pastry down to the plate.

“It’s okay. I think I just overreacted a bit.”

Hyunjin nods, arms still crossed tightly over his chest. Light glints off of one of his silver rings. “Why is it such a sore topic? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Honestly?” You chuckle bitterly to yourself. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I just expected something by now. But here I am, 25 years old, having a stable career, and having not had a relationship over half a decade. I just feel like I’m behind, you know?”

Surprisingly, Hyunjin nods. “I do. I mean, I’ve never had a relationship.”

This is news. Hwang Hyunjin, the star culinary student slash campus heartthrob has never had a relationship. Never? Even the thought seems ridiculous.

The confusion must be evident on your face, because Hyunjin chuckles. “I know, I know. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

“Not silly! Just...surprising…”

“Well, I guess so.”

You’re still attempting to process your thoughts, unable to stop a slew of questions from leaving your mouth. “Why not, though? Have you never considered it? Have you never had your eye on someone?”

At this, Hyunjin’s eyes grow sad. The confident light in them disappears like a wisp of cotton candy in the wind. His eyes swim with a salty-sweetness.

“I’ve actually always had my eye on someone. Since college, actually.”

Instantly, it clicks. “Oh! They must have moved away, right? Everyone moved away after college except us, and I know how sucky that must be for you. Gosh, I didn’t even consider that.”

Hyunjin traps a bubblegum bottom lip between his teeth, seemingly mulling something over in his head. His arm tenses, only once, before releasing. Hyunjin uncrosses his arms, choosing to lean forward onto the countertop.

“I don’t think they left.”

Your eyes light up at the same time your heart falls. It’s so easy to fake not being hurt by the information, just like it’s easy to fake not wanting Hyunjin. Just like it’s easy to say that sticking around after hours is for work and not personal agendas. Just like it’s easy to be his pseudo-best friend.

“Then why don’t you go for it?”

Hyunjin chuckles sadly. “I’m not even on their radar. Not like that.”

For the first time tonight, you laugh. You laugh genuinely and boldly. You laugh loudly, until tears are pooling in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin just looks at you as if you are crazy, overcome with a laughing fit in the middle of his closed bakery. But you can’t help it; it’s funny.

“You’re literally Hwang Hyunjin. There’s no one who’s radar you aren’t on! And I mean no one.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Then why don’t they ever go for it or flirt with me back? I keep waiting on them to indulge me, but they never do.”

“I think…” You take a deep breath in order to swallow back tears. “I think that maybe they dont know that you’re interested. You have to be bold and make the first move! I promise you no one would ever turn you down.”

Hyunjin sighs. “And you know this for sure?”

The smile that you plaster on is watery and obviously fake. However, it’s the best you can do in the dark chocolate ambience of the bakery. It echoes everything inside you at the moment—bittersweet.

“Maybe I do.”

. . .

You don’t see Hyunjin again until a few days later. Your schedule is packed with last minute rearrangements and irregular breaks as you make room for Sana’s wedding plans. It’s hectic, stressful, and overall just a handful.

Your hands hurt from typing out various versions of wedding invitations. Every venue in the city hates you for repeatedly calling and begging for availability on November 18th. A few of your clients are pissed for having their appointments rescheduled, and an even smaller few are understanding.

The worst part of it all is that when Sana and her fiancé waltz into your office on a random Monday, they have the audacity to look cheerful. Neither of them look the least bit stressed, and all the more in love, which angers you slightly. You have to remind yourself that this is why you do this. You have voluntarily become a stress ball for engaged couples. You’re starting to regret that decision.

Sana blinks her pretty eyes at you sweetly, greeting you with a honey-dipped smile. “How have things been going?”

You plaster on an equally sweet smile, composed of high fructose corn syrup instead of genuine sugar. “It’s been going well. Your cake appointment is scheduled for Thursday. All that’s left is for you to pick an invitation format, your dress, and the venue.”

“That sounds great! That’s nothing.” The fiancé exclaims.

You grit your teeth. “Yep, it should be smooth sailing from here.”

The couple leaves with various printed versions of wedding invitations that you paid extra to express print. The minute the door closes behind the two, you sag into your chair. Running your hands over your face, you let out a loud groan. The best part about having an individual office is that no one is around to hear your mental breakdowns.

You spend a moment indulging in the secret stash of chocolates you keep in the top drawer of your desk, letting the rich bitterness melt on your tongue. The taste is dangerous, and you remind yourself to hit the gym extra hard this week.

After a moment, your phone chimes with a message. It’s a simple text from Hyunjin, asking you if you’re planning to visit the bakery later. When you reply in the affirmative, he responds with a simple question.

Cheesecake or Torrone?

You smile and reply with the former.

. . .

The bakery is eerily silent when you arrive. Although it’s normally quiet at this hour, you can usually hear the soft hum of Hyunjin’s music, or the sounds of dishes and pans being cleaned. But this time, there’s nothing.

“Hyunjin?” You call out, slightly confused at the ambience.

It’s silent for a moment, and then a voice sounds out. “In the kitchen!”

You follow the familiar path back to the kitchen, surprised at the dimness of the lights and the lack of sound. When you enter the kitchen, though, it makes both more and less sense at the same time. Hyunjin has various candles littered around the countertops, illuminating the kitchen in a soft orange glow.

Hyunjin himself stands in the corner of the kitchen, changed out of his work attire. He’s wearing a neat button up shirt, untucked over black jeans. The look is completed with his black dress shoes and various jewelry. At his lack of bright green crocs, you’re taken aback.

At the center of the kitchen, poised atop what is usually used as a workbench for kneading bread, is a perfect cheesecake resting on a cake stand. The cake’s tan surface is tainted with tracks of a red reduction that has been placed gently on the center of the cheesecake. At second glance, you determine it to be raspberry. Your favorite.

“What is all this?”

A small smile graces Hyunjin’s face. “Well you told me to ‘be bold and make the first move.’ I don’t know what could be a bolder move than candles and raspberry cheesecake.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind at the revelation. First move? Being bold? It’s you? Through your jumble of thoughts and emotions, you manage out a small, “so it is raspberry?”

“I’m standing here confessing, and you’re asking about the cheesecake?” Hyunjin laughs. “Yes, it’s raspberry. I knew that was your favorite so…”

“So it's me? I don’t understand.”

Hyunjin finally moves from his position in the corner, crossing the large kitchen easily. “Well, I hoped we could talk about it over cake.” The man motions towards the stools around the workbench.

You just nod, taking a seat on one of the stools. You struggle to keep up with the situation, still wrapping your head around it. Hyunjin makes his way over, a smile still poised on his face. You bite your lip as he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt. You find yourself biting harder as you watch the flex of his forearms when he cuts the cake. The piece he deposits in front of you is picturesque, something straight out of a food and wine magazine.

When Hyunjin sits across from you, you take in the way the candlelight hits him, perfectly illuminating his features. His lips are plush and pink, blonde hair falling down onto his shoulders. There’s something glimmering in his eyes, a conflicted wetness that borders between hopeful and disappointed.

“So?” You start.

Hyunjin just shakes his head. “Take a bite first.”

“Hyunjin, I know what your cheesecake tastes like.”

“I don’t care. I’m not talking until you take a bite.”

Stubbornly, you pick up your fork and shovel a bite into your mouth. You’re about to immediately retaliate and open your mouth again, but the pleasant assault of flavor on your taste buds leaves you immobilized. Your eyes widen in shock, causing Hyunjin to chuckle cutely.

“It’s good, right? I added an extra hint of cinnamon spice in order to give the crust that extra umph.”

You practically moan around your bite of food. “Hwang Hyunjin I could marry you right--”

Hyunjin laughs again, this time appreciating the way you cut yourself off before he had to. He shifts in his seat, taking a bite of his own cheesecake before pushing a strand of hair out of his face. He savors his bite, chewing slowly and swallowing completely before opening his mouth again.

“I know this may be sudden,” he begins. “And I know we’ve never been that close. But I like you, Y/N. I have since college. And I don’t want to be too presumptuous, but I have a feeling that you may like me too.”

You nod slowly, trying to ignore the heat that rises to the apples of your cheeks. “Maybe I do.”

Once again, Hyunjin laughs. “Well I guess a ‘maybe’ is as good as I’m going to get from you.”

“No, I mean,” you clear your throat. “I like you, too. Not maybe. I do.”

Hyunjin’s smile is bright, soft around the edges as the shadows of the candle flames dance around his face. He’s gorgeous, all rounded cheeks and bleach blonde hair, squinty eyes and the faintest of dimples.

“I’m glad.”

You sigh. “This whole time I wondered why we were always on the border of friendship. We were close, but not that close. It felt weird to be your friend but also felt weird to not be. I guess that should have been a sign, huh?”

“I’ve always been bad at reading signals.”

“Me too.”

The smile you two share is warm and sweet, filled with the kind of rich sweetness that only comes with something fresh and purified. It’s not the synthetic sugar that makes candy, nor the citrusy sweetness of fruit. The sugar you share is rich, deep, with a slight tang. It’s reminiscent of the crust of the cheesecake, a mellow combination of brown sugar and cinnamon spice.

. . .

Sana’s wedding is just as grand as she wanted it to be. The venue is decked out in flashes of burgundy silk and red roses, complimenting the warm brown of Sana’s hair. Her dress is adorned with Swarovski crystals and delicate stitching, allowing her to sparkle all throughout the ceremony. Eventually vows are read, and the couple is officiated, and you hold Hyunjin’s hand when he sheds a few tears.

The reception is equally as flashy, various celebrity couples trying to outdo each other with their outfits and lavish gifts for the newlywed couple. They take up all of the space in the room and on the dance floor, their fame-inflated egos making the venue feel much smaller than it actually is.

The couple cuts into the cake with cheers in the background. Hyunjin cringes as they smash pieces of cake in each others’ faces, complaining about the waste of frosting and “immaculately made cake.” It takes two kisses and holding his hand for 5 minutes straight to placate him.

After cheers and various upbeat songs, the DJ finally slows down the pace. Various couples get up and slow dance together, swaying to the melody of the soft ballads. Even though its far from the vibes of Hyunjin’s favorite rap songs, he offers a hand out, and leads you happily to the dance floor.

The two of you find a small, unoccupied space on the dance floor, instantly falling into each other. You wrap your arms tightly around Hyunjin’s shoulders, revelling in the feeling of his warm hands around your waist. The two of you sway together, holding each other too close. You can feel the steady thump of Hyunjin’s heart under your head, each beat lining up with the slow pumps of yours.

The spectacularly sweet scent that always clings to Hyunjin as a result of his time in the bakery is ever-present, and you find yourself inhaling it reverently. You allow your eyes to close, getting lost in the song. And if you think hard enough, you can picture it being your own wedding.

You can picture you and Hyunjin at the altar, a few years in the future. You would hold each other’s hands tightly, fighting hard to hold back tears. Hyunjin would of course let a few fall, and you would laugh. And when the minister asks if you take Hwang Hyunjin to be your lawfully wedded husband, you would smile and respond:

“Maybe I do.”

#hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids #skz #escritos

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starbuckie · 4 years

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

challenge: the cbc 1k writing challenge by @captainscanadian

prompt: “do you treat all your hookups like this?”

pairing: carter baizen x reader

words: 4.7k words

warnings: fluff, angst, assault, swearing, some degrading comments, and implications of the sexy times

summary: waling up next to one of New York’s most eligible bachelors brings on a lot more than what you expected.

a/n: what’s up y’all! i’ve essentially been dead for the past two weeks, but i’m back! i lost motivation for a bit, but i feel a lot better now, and what better way to come back then a little carter baizen? i ended up writing a lot more than originally intended, but i like the way it turned out. anyways, enjoy, and thank you for all of your support<3

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

As you awoke with a long stretch and yawn, memories of the previous night had you smiling like an idiot. Sunlight streamed from the half-closed blinds of your windows and the smell of coffee wafted to your room from the kitchen. You grabbed your lover’s dress shirt from off the floor and slipped a pair of satin slippers on your feet.

The night before had been amazing. It had started with a beach reception when you had finally caught his eye. The two of you had been playing a game of cat and mouse during the whole wedding, only giving lustful stares and shy smiles, but when you finally had a hold of each other, your night only got better. The rest of the night had the sounds of only tearing clothes, pants, and moans.

Snapping out of your sweet reverie, you stared at the man in your kitchen. His bare back was faced towards you, giving a great view of his shifting muscles while he made pancakes. A bowl of mixed berries were laid out on the table, along with strawberry syrup and mugs of Peruvian coffee. “Do you treat all of your hookups like this, Baizen?”

Carter, finally noticing your presence, turned around and gave you a heartwarming smile. He flipped the last few pancakes over and walked over to wrap his arms around your waist. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he mumbled, “Haha, cute joke. After everything we’ve been through babygirl, this was definitely not a hookup. And I only treat my favorite person like this, so eat up.” He gestured towards the food on the table and with a quick kiss to your lips, turned his attention back to the pancakes.

You sat in one of the chairs and took a sip of steaming coffee and looked out of the ceiling to floor windows surrounding the room. The New York City skyline would never get old from this view, no matter how long you and Carter had had this penthouse. Sighing, you looked down at your left hand, the sun casting light on the diamond on your fourth finger.

You had been engaged for only six months, but it didn’t feel like anything new. At the age of 33, you didn’t feel any different than you did ten years before or even ten before that. Hell, you always knew that you would be Carter’s friend, but one drunken night had changed that very quickly.

As your fiance joined you at the table, he set a plate of warm pancakes in front of you. Sure, he could have had your housekeeper, Marybeth do it for him, but he also liked pampering you himself. Together, you sat in silence and stared out the windows. Carter tore his eyes away from the city to study your face. He would never understand how after twenty years of friendship, it ended with him finding his one love and putting a ring on your finger.

“Hey, baby?” He asked, and you hummed and met his gaze. “How’d we even get here?”

You smirked and replied with, “Well, I walked from the bedroom, but I don’t know about you?”

“Don’t be cheeky,” he said, pinching your elbow. You swatted his hand away and smiled. “Anyway, what I meant to say before I was so rudely interrupted, was how did I end up with the most beautiful girl on the Upper East Side?”

“Well, if I recall, it started with me being fed up with your stupid ass, and you finally confessing that you had been madly in love with me since we were thirteen.”

“And I still am.” He moved towards you to place his lips on yours. “You’re mine now, baby.” You grinned against his lips and went to sit on his lap.

“Mr. Baizen, you’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you. With that cute little schoolboy outfit, and your hair! Oh god, remember-”

With a playful glare, he cut you off as you giggled. “We do not need to talk about my middle school style, fiancee, but I will gladly talk about when I fell in love with you.”

“That sounds good.” You smiled at each other and went back down memory lane, into your long, long, shared history.

20 YEARS EARLIER

Looking in the mirror, your maid had finished tailoring your school uniform. When she deemed you presentable she scurried out of the room to help your mother, and you immediately went to call your best friend.

“Carter, are you ready for our first day? We’re finally in eighth grade. Next year I’ll be headed off to Constance and you’ll be going to St. Judes, and there’s gonna be a whole ton of hot guys-”

Your friend’s chuckles were heard through the phone. “Y/N, we haven’t even begun the first day yet.”

“Yes, I know, but we’ll be one step closer to the best years of our lives!” Your mom’s voice called you from downstairs. Oh crap. Only the Lord knew that Andrea L/N did NOT want to be kept waiting. “Okay, my mom’s coming, but we’re coming to pick you up right now. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“See ya soon, Y/N.” You smiled at his voice and responded.

“See ya soon, Baizen.” You hung up the phone and ran to your vanity. Making sure your mascara wasn’t smudged while you had dressed, you spritzed on the Chanel perfume you had stolen from your mother's room. Truth be told, you only dressed up for Carter, but you would never tell him that.

His parents were two of New York’s socialites, famous and wealthy, so they got along well with your parents. Though your dad didn’t pay too much attention to you, your mother made sure you kept up with your grades and social life. She was always the shoulder to cry on, offering you wisdom and advice. Not to mention, but your mom was a fantastic shoe designer. She was truly the greatest woman you knew. The two of you grew up closely with his sister Caroline, from the time you were babies to now. Caroline had gone to a boarding school in France in the fifth grade, but that didn't tear your friendship, and only made it stronger. However, while you stay poised and polite, Carter had always had a bit of a bad boy streak. Albeit, he was charming and sweet, sometimes too much for his own good, but the two of you were opposites. Yin and yang. Sun and moon. At the age of thirteen he was the Upper East Side’s darling sweet-talker, who had girls and boys alike fawning over him.

Including you.

You never realized when you had started developing feelings for your friend, but it was a huge shock to you. It helped that he was cute as hell, but you got to see the sweet side of him, that was respectful and caring. He always made sure you were comfortable and happy, giving you a small sliver of hope that he liked you back. You always helped him, whether it was being a wingwoman, or giving him schoolwork, you were always there at his beck and call.

The next seven years were absolutely painful for you, however. In high school, he charmed the skirt off of every single girl at Constance, and constantly blew you off for hookups and dates. When he was cut off and went to travel the world, you called him to make sure he was okay, though he always seemed fine to you. You stuck with him through everything, and the more you went on, you barely knew the man who claimed to be your best friend.

Dating Serena was the last straw. You were twenty-one, studying political science and business to hopefully one day become a lawyer. Your father had disapproved of your majors, but your mom fully supported you.

Sighing and putting your textbook away, you stood up and went to put something on for the party you were invited to. Normally, you would have stayed in your NYU dorm, but Carter had miraculously managed to get you to leave, claiming you needed to meet his girlfriend, who you didn’t know at the time. You grumpily slipped on a champagne sequin dress, and grabbed your white stilettos to match. After hailing a cab, you were off to Blair Waldorf’s house, unknowingly driving to the end of you and Carter’s friendship.

You had to admit that the party wasn’t half bad. Blair certainly knew how to decorate, and it wasn’t hard to believe, considering her mother was the infamous designer, Eleanor Waldorf. You bumped into a lot of old classmates from your high school years, and grudgingly exchanged greetings. When you finally found Carter, he had his arm slipped around the waist of a pretty blonde, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. He turned around, and let out a smile that normally would have made you happy, but instead filled you with dread.

“Y/N! You made it! This is Serena Van der Woodsen.” As you went in to hug your friend, you were stopped by none other than Serena's hand stuck out for you to shake.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you.” You stared into her blue eyes, and were immediately filled with envy and irritation.

You had no right to be mad. You knew Carter could date whoever he wanted, but at this point you didn’t care. Exhausted, you started to yell at the couple.

“Really, Carter? You go off to travel some other goddamn countries and come back to date a high schooler? A child? Who the hell do you think you are?” The entire room went silent, all of their attention focused solely on the college girl who went crazy. Serena stared at you, absolutely dumbfounded. As she came to her senses and started to yell back, Carter stopped her.

“Y/N, let’s go outside,” he gritted out. His eyes were burning red, and you could tell he was furious, which was never a good thing.

However, at this point your emotions were so heightened that it rivaled his anger. Once the two of you were outside the building, he started lecturing you. “What the fuck was that, L/N? I introduce you to my girlfriend, and you start yelling at her. You have no control over who I date, and you have absolutely zero right to insult them. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

He knew he had hit a sore spot there. He knew your deepest insecurities, how you were self-conscious about your body, and how you were saving yourself for the one. No one had ever looked at you throughout high school, and even if they had, you would’ve been too blinded by Carter to see any of them. He had always had you wrapped around his finger.

You chuckled mirthlessly. “You are such an asshole, Baizen. I have been there for you for years. I was always there to make sure you had done your homework, I looked after you, I fucking lied for you. I have done everything for you, and for fucking what?”

“So you yell at my girlfriend? I never knew you could stoop so fucking low, Y/N.” He glared at you, on the verge of tears, and saw that your face was already wet as well. “Oh, poor you. Cries whenever someone raises their voice at them. You had no right to say those things about her. What are you, jealous?”

Your heart stopped beating in your chest. It was the longest five seconds of your life, as tears ran down your face in hot paths, and he stared at you, for once, not knowing what to say.

“You are.” His gaze turned sympathetic. “Wait, Y/N, I never knew-”

“It doesn’t matter, Carter,” you yelled, “I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m not gonna go on loving you, because it’s never gonna happen and I can’t sit around to wait for you. I’m done.” With that, you left, his last memory of you stomping off into the streets of Manhattan at midnight.

PRESENT

“That wasn’t my best moment exactly.” You cringed, face flaming from your actions that had taken place that night.

Carter placed his hand on your jaw and rubbed your cheekbone. “It wasn’t your fault, I was kind of an idiot. But in a way, I’m kind of grateful, because that really woke me up to what was happening outside of that little bubble I was in. It made me see what I had lost, and remember that it was you who finally saved me from the hole I was digging myself farther into. You were my hero. Still are.”

You grinned bashfully. “But then we ended up seeing each other two years later at that other party.”

“Oh god, the party,” he smirked, “we had some fun then, didn’t we?”

“I can’t remember, we were both drunk as fuck.”

10 YEARS AGO

The last two years had changed you. You had still focused on school and kept up with your studies, but the old Y/N was no more. Carter Baizen had ruined your life, and now you were just getting a taste of what you had missed out on in high school. A barrier surrounded your heart, with the one rule of no man staying in your bed for more than a night. You had a reputation to uphold, of course. Every social event now had your name on the attending list, and guys were lining up at your feet for a night with you. Your hair was longer, the clothes you wore out flashier and your style rivaled that of Serena Van der Woodsen’s. You were unattainable and everyone knew your name.

Your father’s private jet flew in on the evening of December twentieth. Merula, your family’s maid, helped carry your bags from the jet and your mom greeted you with tons of hugs and kisses. However, that didn’t last very long, as you had a party to attend. Going up to your old room, you took a quick, yet luxurious bath, and went to fix yourself up. Your old closet was still intact, and you were happy to know that the short red dress you had bought five years before still fit you. After you slipped on the dress and your black heels, you curled your hair in loose waves, and swiped on some dark red lipstick.

You were dead set on getting laid tonight. But then again, when weren’t you?

With a goodnight call to your mom, you ran out to the limo waiting outside your family’s penthouse. Giving the driver the address, you pulled your compact mirror from your Valentino clutch. Flawless. Like any other night. Paying attention to your looks was now tiring. And this life was lonely. You hadn’t had any friends besides Carter at the beginning, but now you were truly by yourself.

Carter. You hadn’t thought about him in a long time. In your furious haze after the incident two years ago, you blocked him on all forms of social media, and ignored any headlines from Gossip Girl including his name. It was lonely, naturally, but you had enough men filling your bed to avoid you from the empty void in your chest. The void that was filled with whispers telling you to apologize, to call him, to take him back, because the truth was that you missed him like hell.

The party was full of college kids, neatly dressed in the chandelier-lit room. Ugh. So far you couldn’t see any lookers. A couple of guys who looked like they were in their late twenties were eyeing you up from the corner, and grabbing a flute of bubbly champagne, you headed in their direction, licking your lips. As you crossed the room, you could feel more eyes on you but you didn’t dare look at them. No, you liked being in charge, controlling the room. Heels clicking against the marble floor, you blatantly checked out the tall blonde in the middle. He was pretty handsome. Cropped hair, a muscular frame, and electric blue eyes that kind of reminded you of Carter.

Stop thinking about him, go get laid.

You stopped in front of him. “Hey, pretty boy. Can I get your name?”

He wasn’t even fazed by your flagrant introduction. You were absolutely shameless, and though you received glares from the other women in the room, you couldn’t have cared less. “I’m Steve. What’s your name, beautiful?”

You opened your mouth to speak and Steve’s eyes widened as he saw the figure that shouted out your name, abruptly stopping you. “Y/N?”

Freezing, you prayed that it wasn’t him. His voice that haunted you daily, and made guilt and sadness pool in your gut. It had to have been your imagination. You started again. “Sorry, but I’m-”

“Y/N.” Turning around, you came face to face, well, face to chest with Carter Baizen. He had grown taller since you had last seen him. Even with the noticeably darker bags under his eyes and growing hair, he was still as gorgeous as ever.

“Hey, Carter.” Steve had walked away by then, not wanting to intrude, but at that moment, he was the only person you needed. Heart beating in your chest, you finally met Carter’s eyes. “How are you?”

His mouth was gaping a little, taking in your form, seeing that it was so much different than it used to be. “I’m good.” Pausing for a moment, he added, “You look great.”

A blush rose to your cheeks and you managed to mumble out, “Thanks.”

“Can we talk?”

That’s how you ended up outside on an empty balcony overlooking Manhattan. Taxis and honking were heard, but it was fainter due to blood rushing in your ears.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “Carter, before you say anything, I want to let you know that I’m sorry. I really am. Last time we saw each other, I knew what I did was wrong, and though I was in love with you, I had no right to be upset.” Sighing, you placed your hand in his. “Can we be good again? I really hate how we left things off.”

Silently, he nodded his head, eyes wide and subtly taking you in again. The last two years hadn’t been kind to him, after Serena dumped his sorry ass, and he ended up with no money and nowhere to run to. His mom had allowed him to stay in the family house for a while, and his father was even giving him a second chance at running the company, but it wasn’t easy for him. He was slowly spiraling down, and only when he saw you did he wake up and take a look at himself properly. He looked like a piece of garbage next to you. He hadn’t even gone to school, and here you were, even more beautiful, which he never thought was possible, and a successful law student at Harvard.

“We’re good, Y/N. I brought you out here for another reason though.” He paused and looked at you as you nodded for him to continue. “It’s been a few years, I know, and I shouldn’t be saying this now, but I miss you so much. These past few years have made me realize how much of a fool I am for you, but God, I’m in love with you, Y/N, I always have been.”

You stood up, anger coursing through your veins. Now? When it’s most convenient for him? No. You needed to get drunk. “I’m sorry Carter, but I fell out of love with you one hell of a long time ago.” Swallowing the lump rising in your throat, you continued your lie. “You made your decision, I made mine. I wanted to be friends, Carter, but I can’t have that laying around us.”

Stomping away, you heard the crestfallen voice of Carter. “Y/N, wait, please.” He stumbled his way over to you, and caught your hand again before you ripped it away. “Please, Y/N, please, I’m in love with you. I’m sorry I was such an ass, I was so stupid, please.”

Tears fell from your eyes as you shook your head. “I need a drink.”

He numbly nodded as you made your way back inside, asking one of the servers for a gin. You needed to get drunk. It was a necessity at this point, and as you got more and more tipsy through the night, you found your way back with Steve. By now the party had started to get crazier, people making out in corners and drunkenly stumbling everywhere. Steve held you up as you grinded against him, but stopped when you felt his hand go up your dress.

“No, no thank you,” you slurred.

He smirked, giving you a steely glare. “You’re asking for it with this slutty little dress and winding me up.” He forcibly grabbed your wrists and started to drag you to a bedroom. “I own you tonight, baby.”

Before you could scream, someone came over and punched Steve in the jaw. You were speechless, staring at his already bruising face. Once again, you were being pulled away, only this time, out of the party. The person dragged you back to your place, and your drunken mind asked, “You wanna come in?”

Without another word, the two of you were attached by the mouth, clothes being thrown haphazardly around your room. Earlier events from the evening wiped from your memories, and you could have only hoped that your parents weren’t home. Falling into your bed, you and your unknown lover tore up the bedsheets for several hours until you both drunkenly passed out.

When you woke up the next morning, you looked up. You silently thanked yourself for closing your windows before you had left the other night, and only then realized you were cold, naked, and in your own room.

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself. Throwing on a robe from your closet, you looked around seeing the scattered clothes from you and whoever you had spent your night with. They were still here.

You flew down the stairs at a record-breaking speed, and slid into the kitchen, risky business style, and saw a familiar head of brown hair sitting at the table. “What the fuck, Baizen?”

Carter calmly turned around, smiling as he blew into his coffee. “Damn, Y/N, good morning to you too.”

Scoffing, you grabbed the newspaper he held in his hands and started to whack him with it. “Ow, what the hell?” He grabbed your wrists to calm you, then pulled out a chair next to him for you to sit. Reluctantly, you sat and frowned at him, raising an eyebrow to ask what happened. “Do you treat all your hookups like this?”

“Did we…” You didn’t even want to finish that sentence.

“Sleep together piss-drunk after you told me you didn’t love me back after two years? Yes, we most certainly did, beautiful.” Though your face burned red at the old pet name, you asked for what had happened. “Well, the asshole you were dancing with tried to get you in bed, but I came over and punched him, while we were both still drunk, and I got you back here, and you offered me to come inside and we fucked.”

Your eyes were comically wide, and he would have found the situation really funny if his heart weren’t beating erratically inside his chest as he awaited your full reaction. “So,” you started, “you're still in love with me.”

He tried not to let his embarrassment show, but his cheeks flamed anyway. You smiled genuinely, but you were terrified of whether he meant it or not. “Do you mean it, Carter?”

You stared into the depths of his eyes and he answered, “Yes. I’m so sorry that I was a horrible, horrible friend to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. And I know you already expressed how you felt about me, and let me say, I understand completely. If you want me to, I’ll walk out of that door right now, and you won’t have to see me again. But if you let me stay , I’ll spend every waking moment of my life making sure you feel happy and loved, and making it up to you.”

He stared at you with pleading eyes, and held your hands gently. Suddenly, stinging tears obstructed your vision, and you whimpered. “I love you, Car,” you gave him a watery smile, “never stopped.”

His eyes started to tear up as well, and smiling you finally pressed your lips to his, taking in the moment. The past few years had been torturous for you both, dealing with the loneliness and pain from your broken friendship, but slowly and surely you two built trust. It took a long time, and you took the relationship slowly, but patience was key, and it was all worth it in the end.

PRESENT

“And now we’re here?” You asked. Carter combed his hand through your hair, the soothing action making you rest your head on his shoulder.

“And now we’re here.” He glanced down at you, smiling and pecking your lips.

“Damn, we had one dramatic-ass story.” He chuckled at that and sighed.

“We sure did, baby. But hey, look at us. We’re on top of the world right now. We have a wedding in a few months, you don’t have any cases, and I have the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms right now.”

You smiled against his neck. “Hey, Car?” He hummed against your hair, looking out the window. The sun had fully risen, making the room glow. “I know we haven’t had this discussion in a while, but are we ready to have kids?” His brow furrowed, but he said nothing. “Car?”

“I mean, sure, we’re both doing so well right now, and we could raise a kid here, right? We’ve got an empty bedroom right across from ours, and we’ve got plenty of space here. I think with the combination of me and you, we’d have a pretty great kid. They’d definitely have my eyes though.”

“They better have your eyes.” You looked up at him. “So pretty.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “The wedding’s coming up pretty soon though, so we can start trying after that.” You laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Before we get too old.”

You smirked and rolled your eyes. “We’re thirty-three, Carter, we aren’t that old.”

He laughed and said, “I guess you’re right.” Heart beating in your chest, you sighed loudly. “What brought this on?”

You cupped his cheek and took a deep breath. When you had taken the test a week before you had been elated, only to freak out after realizing Carter might not feel the same. But you had been okay for ten years, right? When the two of you had finally gotten together, it did take a lot to find that balance in your relationship, but hell, you were getting married in a few months. Carter was your best friend, number one supporter, and fiance, so you prayed that he would be just as excited.

“Carter, I’m pregnant.” Looking at him dead in the eye, you hoped that he would be happy. You awaited his reaction for a few seconds, and you wanted to scream in anticipation.

And then you saw it.

His eyes started to water, and his hands moved to your stomach. ”Really?” He asked, voice wavering. You nodded, eyes beginning to tear up as well.

“We’re having a baby, Mr. Baizen.” You laughed joyfully, as he picked you up by your waist and you wrapped your legs around him. Hands found their way around his neck as he pulled you in for a kiss.

Tears poured from his eyes, as he laughed. “I love you so, so, much, baby.” Hiding your face in his neck, you giggled some more. “God, we’re having a kid. I swear on my life, I’ll do everything to make sure you and this baby are happy for the rest of our lives.”

And he did. Not such a bad hookup after all, now was it?

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bleachanimefan1 · 3 years

Text

Oblitus Part 30

True Colors

36 Days Left Until Extermination...

Anna groaned as she slowly opened her eyes. Her head was pounding like someone was taking a hammer and whacking on her brain. How much did she drink last night? She slowly sat up in the bed. She immediately regretted it as she felt a dull ache on her lower body between her legs. Anna confused as to why she was naked. She pulled the sheets back and her eyes widened seeing the dried blood between her legs as well as numerous bits marks all over her body. She shuddered seeing it also staining the sheets and bed as well. The sheets on her bed had claw marks streaked across them and the mattress. Feathers from her pillows, that were ripped to shreds, were scattered all over the room. She leaned back only to feel that the bed frame was missing and saw that it had been split in half, destroyed.

"What happened last night?" She murmured.

Anna hugged the sheets to her chest, covering herself. "Oh god, please tell me I didn't..." Anna heard the sound of static followed by someone snoring to the left of her. Anna turned her head and her eyes widened in shock to see Alastor. He was naked as well. He had scratches and bite marks all over him as well. She was surprised to see his that his legs were shaped like a deer's bent at an awkward angle, covered in red and white fur. Anna looked down further and she nearly squeaked seeing Alastor's tail slowly waving from side to side while he slept. He's definitely not going to like this but the sooner he finds out the better. Plus, a little payback.

Anna reached out and have a hard pull on Alastor's tail. Alastor's eyes immediately popped open. He froze when he saw Anna next to him covering herself with the blanket.

"Please tell me that we didn't..."

"We did." Anna said. Alastor turned facing his back at Anna. He groaned as he held his head, looking down. Then it really wasn't a dream. The two of them actually did...Alastor wanted to scream but he hit his lip. His hands dug into his hair, gripping it tightly. Oh no....no, no, no, no! This was not supposed happen! Alastor sighed. He had to end this. Even if this was going to hurt her, he had to do it. There was far too much at stake. He can't afford an distraction, right now.

Anna sat silently as she watched Alastor. She felt her heart was about to beat out of her chest. Waiting for him to do or say something, anything. Anything, but silence. This was torture.

"This was a mistake." Anna's eyes widened hearing Alastor spoke. Her breath caught in her chest like she had been punched.

"It doesn't has to be..." She said, quietly. "I mean, we can still make this work."

"What happened last night, didn't happen." Alastor replied. Anna felt like her heart was being crushed. Suddenly, the bed felt it was the right time to give away as one of the legs broke. Alastor and Anna yelled as it fell lopsided.

"So you mean to tell me that you feel nothing for me?" She asked.

"No-" Anna cut him off. She glared at him, furiously. "Then look at me right in the eye and tell me and tell me to my face. That I mean nothing to you."

"Stop it!" Alastor snapped. Anna's eyes widened. "Just stop..." Alastor turned to Anna. He has to end this now. "Give me your hand."

"Why?" Anna asked. Alastor ignored her, and grabbed her hand. A light green glow emitted from their hands and Alastor let go.

"I release you from my contract." Alastor said. "It is over." Anna's eyes widened in shock. She was free? She should be feeling ecstatic but she wasn't. She didn't want it to end. She didn't want to...

"Alastor, you can't really mean that-" Anna stammered. "I love you." That was all she could manage to get out. Alastor's eyes widened as he stared at her with a strained smile. He gripped the sheets tightly with his hand almost tearing more holes into it with his claws. Anna's eyes widened in shock as well at her words. She had finally said it, after wanting to get it out for so long! Then she heard Alastor laugh, like it was funny joke...

"I hate to tell you this, darling." Alastor growled. "But, I don't love you."

He had to leave now. He couldn't stand being in this room any longer. Not with her. Anna eyes widened. Why did this always happen to her? Why does everyone always leave her? She felt her heart growing tighter and tighter. Anna felt her eyes began to sting as tears began to form.

"Get out..." Alastor's eyes widened when he saw Anna get up and grabbed a chair, tossing it at him. Then she started grabbing other various items that she could get a hold of, like books, a hair brush, and his clothes. "Get the hell out of my room!" Quickly, while dodging other flying projectiles being thrown at him, Alastor left not saying another word.

As everyone slept, quietly, Alastor had retreated to Rosie's emporium. He knocked on the door and it opened revealing Rosie who was still up.

"Alastor? It's the middle of the night. Why are you here?" She asked. Alastor let himself in as he walked past her. He slumped into a chair, sitting down.

"Rosie, I don't know what to do. I'm so confused. I've never felt this way before."

Rosie magically fixed some coffee and set a cup on a table in front of Alastor. He took it, drinking it. Rosie took a seat in a chair across from Alastor, sipping on her cup as well.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Alastor growled, setting his cup down, and stood up. He paced across the room. "It's that woman!" Rosie grinned widely.

"The human? What does she have to do with it?"

"Yes! It's her! She's making me feel things that I've never felt for anyone before! Not even in my past life! It's driving me mad everytime I try to think of an answer!" Alastor shouted, frustrated. He looked like a lost fawn. Rosie watched with amusement at his antics then set down her cup. She crossed her arms, with a smug grin on her face. She laughed. Alastor stopped. He turned to her with a strained smile frozen in place.

"You think that this is funny?!" He snapped. Rosie stood up, still with a smug grin on her face, pointing her finger Alastor.

"Why I never thought I'd live to see the day. Hell's radio demon is in love!" Alastor's eyes widened. Rosie smile twisted more. She sighed. "It really is the end of everything."

"What are you talking about, Rosie?" Alastor scoffed. "That's preposterous!"

"Why are you lying to yourself? You can deny it all you want, but you have to come to terms with it eventually. You are in love." Rosie said. "Don't even bother arguing. I'm always right." Alastor sighed. She was. Rosie was always right about everything. Perfect in every way.

"Fine, it's true. I am in love with her." Alastor said.

"There you go! That wasn't so bad was it!" Rosie smiled.

"Isn't there a spell or something that you can make this feeling to away?" Rosie sighed and walked over towards Alastor and hugged him.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid not." Rosie replied. Suddenly, there was loud knock at the door. Rosie and Alastor looked at each other.

"Are expecting anyone else this late?" Alastor asked.

"No." The knocking continued. Rosie walked over towards the door and opened it, standing outside was Lucifer.

"I hope that I'm not interrupting anything?" He said with a wide grin on his face.

"No, I was just about to leave." Alastor said, grinning as he stepped up, walking out of Rosie's home.

"Great! Then we can have a talk along the way!" The king answered, shutting the door on Rosie's face. He and Alastor walked side by side quietly for a while. Lucifer spoke.

"I hope that you're not reconsidering abandoning the plan are you?"

"No, I'm still working on it." Alastor said.

"That's good to hear. However, it is surprising that it's taking a long time for you to do so." Lucifer said. "It wouldn't have to do with that human woman, would it?" He finished now with a scarier grin. Alastor stopped in his place.

"No, you are wrong." Alastor said. "I plan to stop Charlie's redemption plan and you agreed that the hotel will go to me. That is our agreement, is it not?"

"Yes, it is. I'm glad that you haven't changed your mind." Lucifer said, walking away. He laughed evilly. "Otherwise, I would have to declare open season for a couple of deers."

Alastor growled clenching his fists, at the kings threat, watching him walk away.

After a long shower, and cleaning up. Anna wrapped her arms around herself, walking down the hallways, approaching the lobby. She had to get out! Angel was at the bar flirting at Husk when he heard Anna coming closer. He turned around to greet her, only to stop.

"Why to I smell shame and disappointment?" Angel asked. Anna narrowed her eyes at the spider demon, glaring at him. She ignored him, and headed towards the door.

"I'm going out for a bit." Anna murmured.

"Now, hold on. That's not such a good idea." Husk called out, stopping her. Angel and him left the bar, walking towards Anna. "Did something happen? Is it about last night? Did Al do something to ya?" Anna gripped the door handle, tightly. Angel looked at Husk, confused.

"What do you mean by that?" Angel asked. "And what happened to your pretty boyfriend?"

"Chris wasn't what we all expected. It was his fault that Anna's here. Al took care of him. Then her and Al had a little too much to drink last night, so he offered to take Anna back to her room." Husk explained. Angel turned back towards Anna.

"I can tell something's bothering ya, doll face." Angel said. "Turn around and tell us what happened."

Charlie and Vaggie had now walked into the lobby, seeing Anna about to leave.

"Where are you going?" Vaggie questioned.

"I'm going out." Anna replied.

"Why?" Charlie questioned.

"Its none of your business." Anna replied. Charlie frowned, looking at Anna. Why was so angry? What happened? "It is My business. I promised to keep you safe. Now, tell me why are you leaving?"

"BECAUSE I'M GOING TO BE SICK IF I STAY A SINGLE MINUTE HERE!" Anna screamed out loud. Everyone in the room stared at her with wide eyes in shock. Anna turned and opened the door, slamming behind her as she left the group, dumbfounded.

"Anna!?" Charlie called out.

"What the hell?!" Angel shouted.

"Can anyone tell me what the fuck just happened?!" Vaggie growled.

In Pentagram City, the usually crowded streets were now empty as there was no one around. The sounds of Anna's footsteps clacked on the pavement as she walked. Anna looked around seeing not a soul in sight. Anna was knocked back as she had bumped into someone. She frowned and looked up, glaring at whoever it was.

"Can't you watch where you are going?!" She shouted. Her eyes widened in terror and she closed her mouth. Large wings towered over her. She backed away as she felt a cold air brush against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Standing in front of her was a strange being that looked like an angel. The strange horned being turned to her as it glared at Anna through his LED mask with a scary grin.

An exterminator.

"I finally found you..."

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #charlie magne #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel oc #fanfic #fanfiction #exterminator

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faltien · 4 years

Text

It’s Lonely At The Top

WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, IMPLIED/REFERENCED SUICIDE

IF THIS UPSETS YOU, DO NOT READ

They say it’s lonely at the top. At age five, Katsuki dismisses this claim. It’s stupid, he thinks, with the certainty that only a five-year-old can muster. After all, he’s at the very top, and loneliness isn’t something he often experiences.

Katsuki is surrounded by extras who all fawn over him, recognising his greatness. Still, as he scans the crowd surrounding him, he can’t help but feel a little irritated and something else he can’t quite name. Spotting the familiar head of green hair, Katsuki marches over, ignoring all the other extras that clamour for his attention.

“Oi, Shitty Deku!” He hollers.

Deku looks up, and Katsuki pretends not to notice the way his eyes light up with hope when he sees him.

“Yeah Kacchan?” Deku says eagerly, the words hurrying out of his mouth.

“Why aren’t you watching me use my quirk? You looking down on me or something?”

Deku shakes his head vehemently.

“No, of course not Kacchan! Everyone knows you’re the best - “

Katsuki feels a swell of satisfaction at those words.

“ - but Tsubasa-chan said that he wanted to play with me, and told me to wait here!”

Katsuki begins to feel a sneaking suspicion.

“How long ago did he tell you that, shitty nerd?”

Deku scrunches up his face.

“I think.... around an hour ago?”

Katsuki scowls. Well, it’s not like he can fault Tsubasa, not when Katsuki is guilty of doing the same thing many times. Still though, he begins to feel annoyance bubble up inside of him.

“Hey!” he yells.

“Uh, y-yes?” Deku stammers.

“Next time, don’t take orders from anyone but me.” Katsuki puffs out his chest. “After all, I’m the leader of the Katsuki Hero Agency!” He leans down to look Deku in the eyes.

“Got it, you fucking nerd?”

————————-

At age eight, Katsuki is full of fiery temper and harsh words. He still believes the claim is bogus. He snaps at anyone who questions him, and his right to the top spot is undisputed. So why, he thinks, gritting his teeth, is Shitty Deku, of all people, defying him?

“K-Kacchan...” Deku stammers. He’s fucking crying, like he always is.

“It’s not nice to hurt people!” Deku yells.

His hands are bunched into fists, and his clothes and face are streaked with dirt. Katsuki stays silent. Who does Deku think he is, telling Katsuki what’s nice and what’s not. He already knows, and even if he didn’t, why would he need the help of a useless Deku anyway?

“Heroes don’t hurt people!” Deku continues, and Katsuki snaps. His fists crackle with explosions as he steps forward threateningly and says,

“And what’s a quirkless loser like you telling me what a hero does? It’s not like you could ever be one anyway.”

Deku sobs, his large eyes glassy, flowing with tears. He repeats softly, “Heroes don’t hurt people, Kacchan.” He hiccups miserably.

“SHUT UP!” Katsuki screams, even as he brings his fists down on Deku. Again and again and again. When Deku is reduced to a sobbing pile on the ground and Katsuki walking away, wearing a smirk he doesn’t quite feel, he tries to erase the soft voice in his head telling him, ” Heroes don’t hurt people, Kacchan.”

—————————

Katsuki is twelve, and the claim has all but disappeared from his mind. For some reason, Deku still believes he can be a hero. Every day, coming to school with a grin on his face, telling him, “I might as well try, Kacchan! After all, it’s never hurt anyone to try!”

Truthfully, it pisses Katsuki off. Why can’t the nerd just understand that he can’t become a hero? No matter how much Katsuki reminds him, day after day, he still comes to school with that grin on his face. Today is no different, and the nerd comes in with a smile and a cheery,

“Good morning, Kacchan.”

Katsuki scowls and doesn’t respond. Class starts like normal, and the teacher - Katsuki can’t be bothered to remember his name, starts rollcall. When the teacher reaches Deku’s name, the nerd doesn’t respond. The teacher pauses, then repeats it.

“ Ah, here!” the nerd yelps, and the class bursts into laughter. Deku blushes a vibrant red and mumbles something under his breath.

That afternoon, Katsuki corners Deku once again in a familiar game of cat and mouse.

“ You can’t fucking be a hero, Deku. You’re quirkless, useless!”

Deku, in a surprising show of bravery lifts his head and meets Katsuki’s eyes.

“ Sure,” he says. “I may not be able to become a hero, but I have to try, right?”

Deku’s eyes are burning viridian green.

———————

Katsuki is fourteen and he is right. Deku can’t be a hero. It has never hurt so much to be right before. The world is numb, and Katsuki feels as if he is underwater, sounds muffled as they make their way to his ears.

“Oh my god!”

“Is that-”

“Someone, quick, call an ambulance!”

“I feel sick...”

“Damn, I didn’t think he would actually-”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it? After all he’s-”

Quirkless .

Katsuki is right and it hurts. He is finally at the top, no-one looking down on him, no one challenging his position. In a burst of clarity Katsuki realises the claim was right all along.

Katsuki is fourteen and alive when he wishes for once in his life that he was wrong.

Deku is fourteen and dead when his hero career is cut off before it can even begin.

Katsuki is lonely.

“Why don’t you take a swan-dive off the roof and hope for a quirk in your next life?”

————————-

Katsuki is three, and everything is right in the world. He is going to be a hero when he grows older, and he’s going to do it with Izuku by his side.

Izuku is pouting. “Why do I have to be your sidekick?”

“Because,” Katsuki says. “I wanna be the best, and I can’t be the best if you wanna be the best too!”

Izuku frowns, deep in thought. Suddenly, his face lights up.

“I know! Let’s be partners! We can be the hero duo, Izu-chan and Kacchan fighting evil! After all, I heard it’s lonely at the top.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfic #angst #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #my writing

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janumun · 5 years

Note

A Raycelot fan??? I love that pair of kings so much I’m glad you also like them as well! If you’re not too overwhelmed by requests and IRL could I request either some steamy or fluffy Raycelot from you?

Cuddly and steamy Ray/Lance? Yes, you can anon! Raycelot gives me life and they’re such an under-rated, electrifying pair of Kings, I squeal every time they’re in the same frame. Cybird denying me the rights to be the filling in that sandwich makes me -

Rated NSFW/18+ for that King bang, I hope you enjoy this short piece!

Title: Monarchy

It was meant to be a joke. A prank he and Fenrir had wanted to pull on those snotty Red territory brats.

Ray had long lost Fenrir somewhere within the opulent Red Academy’s grounds but he didn’t particularly care about that detail when a lion cub this beautiful was in his sights.

Its discovery had been an accident.

While trying to sneak into the enemy’s school after having skipped their own classes for the day and having lost Fenrir soon after they breached Red security, Ray had been keeping to the shadows when he stumbled upon a well hidden path within the overgrown foliage, leading further into the woods at the back of the school.

Having followed the trail in hopes of getting himself out, Ray had happened to spot something writhing and white, within a small cardboard box located obscurely within the greenery, well out of way of passers-by.

Curious, he had approached, only for a blur of white streak to jump out at him.

“Whoa!” Ray had immediately reached to catch the flying thing on impulse, holding onto it tight.

And on closer inspection, the fact that it was a feline didn’t make matters any better, and so he had stayed.

“Who are you?” An uninflected voice called to him from behind. Ray turned around, fingers still within the lion’s snow white fur, scratching it adoringly behind the ears.

The cub seemed to be enjoying Ray’s touch even as the golden haired stranger walked towards Ray on slow measured steps.

He seemed to be older than Ray, well into his college years perhaps, his hair the golden halo of a cupid, eyes the color of frosted blue. And despite himself, Ray found himself admiring the boy.

Beautiful.

The new arrival raised a brow in question. “Pardon?” It was then that Ray realized he had spoken the word out loud.

Quickly, he turned back to fawning over the lion cub. “He’s beautiful,” Ray offered, wonderingly. “What’s a waif like him doing out here?”

The blue-eyed boy remained silent for a long while making Ray believe he did not wish to speak to a stranger, especially one decked out in Black territory attire as he was, but then–

“His name is Shine.” It wasn’t a proper answer but it was something.

“Well, aren’t ya one sharp kitten, Shine.” Ray murmured, scritching the lion under its chin one final time before reluctantly letting go.

He stood up, giving the other boy a once over before he spoke. “I’m Ray, by the way. Thanks for letting me pet your lion.”

The golden boy offered a nod in acknowledgement. “Lancelot. You’d best be on your way before they catch you. The exit’s just on the other side of that hedge.” He jutted his chin in the direction, moving to lift Shine into his arms.

“Alright. Thanks.” Ray offered him a smile, a tiny tug of the lips, before he paused once again, staring at Lancelot as he held Shine in his arms.

“Can I touch?” Ray asked out of the blue, words tumbling out as if in sudden thought.

Lancelot gave him a look as if he thought him odd but acquiesced nonetheless, extending his arms still holding his pet. Ray reached for, and past Shine’s fur, hand settling into the impossible softness of spun gold, the color of the sun trapped within locks as he gently sifted his fingers through Lancelot’s hair, the latter staring at him, shell-shocked.

“Your hair is so…”

“…Beautiful.” A soft, private murmur into the skin of his counterpart, Ray’s hand shifted through his hair, gold turned muted silver in the moonlight.

Lancelot’s reddened flesh, evidence of the night’s passion spoken onto it; old scars causing the only bumps and blemishes beneath Ray’s fingers as he traced them in breathless wonder. Wet tongue following their path across the shuddering expanse of Lancelot’s chest.

Soaked through in sweat, Ray’s and his own, the Black King swooped down to catch stray droplets on his tongue.

Lancelot let out a low grunt before dragging Ray’s face down to his own, the raven king’s hips jerking at feeling the true impact of famished desire against his lips, in his mouth, hot and wet and dripping.

Throwing him off of him, Lancelot switched their positions, promptly driving his hips against Ray’s, earning a muffled moan in reward. “What it is that has your mind so occupied, young king?” The question uttered, not without a light frown that deepened with Ray’s breathless laughter.

“Nothing much. I was thinking of times long gone, I suppose.” Ray reached a hand towards him, the King, fingers tracing Lancelot’s porcelain, almost statuesque features but Ray knew how much of that was a façade, hiding the fire burning within.

Lancelot turned away from his touch, as if he did not like what he saw manifested in Ray’s eyes. And Ray understood.

Sometimes, it wasn’t so easy to see oneself through all the layers one chose to hide themselves within.

But it didn’t matter. For when they were together, they saw the other, deeper than chilled beauty, deeper than hardened hearts, deeper than rank and skin, extending into their very souls.

Ray and Lancelot were reflecting glasses, one each, part of a pair, revealing the other’s actual truth, hidden within years’ worth of drapes.

And for now, that was all that really mattered.

End Notes: Will this disjointed mess pass off as fluff and smut? I sure hope so lol.

#requests!#anonymous #raycelot #ray blackwell #ikemen revolution ray #ikemen revolution lancelot #ikerev ray #ikerev lancelot #ikemen revolution #ns//fw text #ikerev smut #ikerev fluff (?)#a pickle writes #lancelot kingsley #ray/lancelot #ray blackwell/lancelot kingsley

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dontenchantme · 4 years

Text

sanguine

Rated M, Asmo x MC, some Satan x MC - sexual scenes.

[vampire au] he had the prettiest eyes she had ever seen. sometimes they were a rosy orange, just like the sunset. at other times they were red. bright red, like the colour of blood.

fics masterlist

She was given two warnings to heed when she first started living in this mansion.

Number one – do not fall in love with any of the residents. She could do that. She wasn’t here to find love, after all. She just needed a roof over her head.

Then there was number two – do not get too close to the one named Asmodeus.

It didn’t take long for her to figure out why. Asmodeus was a charmer, playful and flirtatious, and she could never quite tell when he was being serious and when he was just complimenting her to be polite. Talking to him confused her sometimes.

She knocked on his door, and as she waited for him to respond, she tried to steel her nerves, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. It had been a few months since she started living here, and she ought to have gotten used to this by now.

But then Asmodeus opened the door, his eyes half-lidded and his light caramel hair artfully tousled, and she had to keep her gaze away from the bare skin he displayed so gratuitously, her face warming as she tried to remember what she was here for.

The laundry. Yes. “Today’s laundry day,” she reminded him. Asmodeus yawned and opened the door wider, revealing his torso – her gaze followed the long, lean lines of his narrow waist and she shook her head a little, thankful that Asmodeus seemed too tired to notice her embarrassment. She didn’t want him to start teasing her.

“Come in then,” he drawled, stepping aside so she could enter his room. The small woven basket in which he kept his used clothes was practically overflowing.

“How do you have so many shirts?” she grumbled, walking over to the basket – she was very much conscious of his gaze lingering on her, and the back of her neck prickled. “It’s ridiculous. Do they even all fit in your wardrobe?”

“Well, they do if you know how to pack them properly.” Asmodeus grinned. “I’m rather good at squeezing things into tight spaces…if I say so myself.”

His playful tone made her think of things that sent blood rushing up to her cheeks, and she had to hide her face as she picked up the basket, hoping he wouldn’t see how flustered she was. “You should put a shirt on, or you might catch a cold.”

“A cold?” There was amusement in his voice. “How sweet of you to worry about me, little lamb. But I’m hardier than I look.” She heard him yawn and she glanced up at him then, confident that her blush had receded by now.

“What time did you sleep?” She guessed he didn’t come back until the early hours of the morning. Asmodeus was hardly ever home at night – he’d rather head down to the pubs and get his dinner ‘straight from the source’, or so he called it.

She shuddered at the thought. Though she had grown used to living among them, that didn’t mean she ever forgot how dangerous these men were. A memory of the emergency rations they kept in the kitchen floated through her mind, clear crystal bottles filled with a rich, viscous red that was almost like red wine, but not quite.

“I don’t know. Is it important?” He shrugged, then gave her a wicked smile, the kind of smile that had other women fawning all over him whenever he went out in public. “Are you concerned about me, darling? Because nothing would please me more.”

“You think too highly of yourself, Asmodeus.” She made to leave his room, having retrieved what she came for, but then he moved, too quickly for the human eye to follow, and suddenly he was right in front of her, his hand reaching for her face.

She gasped, instinctively taking a step back, but then his fingers rested gently on her cheek and she stilled, abruptly forgetting how to breathe. Her entire body was tense. “You like to run away from me, don’t you?” he whispered, studying her – his eyes seemed to flicker between orange and crimson, and she was so mesmerised by them that she almost didn't realise he had asked her a question.

“Why would you think that?” The second warning floated through her mind and she flinched – Asmodeus, observant as always, narrowed his eyes and leant closer. She couldn’t help but think about how nice he smelled, even though he just woke up. A trace of cologne mixed with something sweet, something distinctly Asmodeus. Her eyelids fluttered as his thumb traced a slow, delicate circle over her cheek.

His bare skin was smooth and flawless and tantalisingly close. Her fingers twitched. “You don’t even look me in the eye sometimes, you know.” He was so near her that she could feel his breath ghosting over her ear, and she shuddered. Her hands were still clutching tightly onto the basket. “Are you frightened of me, little lamb?”

A little. But she was more intrigued than afraid. She just knew better than to let him get too close – she didn’t want to become another one of his conquests. And with that thought, she managed to snap herself out of her trance, ducking away from him as she shifted the basket to her side, putting some extra distance between them.

“I have chores to finish. We can talk another time, Asmodeus,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral. She expected him to tease her about her sudden reticence, and she was prepared to come up with some kind of rebuttal, but instead, he just sighed and stepped away from her, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Have a wonderful day, darling. Don’t let Barbatos wear you out too much.” For a moment she thought she saw his eyes darken, but then he smiled, and she figured she had to be imagining things. “He works you to the bone, doesn’t he?”

“He’s not that bad.” She laughed, relieved that he didn’t say anything to fluster her again. “I’ll see you at dinner. And please, stop throwing out so much laundry each week! Washing your clothes takes a lot of time, you know,” she scolded.

He had a penchant for silks and soft fabrics with the most delicate detailing and she always had to be careful with them, afraid that she would accidentally rip the fragile material. “I like it when you wash my clothes, though. My clothes always smell like you when you bring them back to me.” His lips curved into a smile.

She took back what she thought about him not flustering her. “Don’t try to use that as an excuse!” She narrowed her eyes at him, then turned away and strode out of his room, ignoring the peals of laughter that floated after her.

She busied herself with her chores for the rest of the day, finally able to take a break right before dinner – Barbatos said he’d prepare the meal for tonight, so she was in the common room now, watching Lucifer and Satan play chess.

It was always interesting to watch the two brothers play. Both were equally skilled, though they had differing strategies – Lucifer favoured waiting and watching, and he usually took on a more defensive style of playing, while Satan was undeniably aggressive, even when it was his turn to play black. She didn’t have a great head for chess, but she knew that it was far more likely for the black side to lose simply because they didn’t have the privilege of making the first move.

But she liked to watch Satan think of ways to overcome that disadvantage. Every time he played against Lucifer, he would choose the black side, and she wondered if it was because he enjoyed challenging himself, or if there was some deeper reason guiding his decision. “Checkmate,” Satan announced, moving his knight.

Lucifer sighed. “Very well. You win this round. Though I will win tomorrow.” He glanced at her. “What does this bring our score to?”

“Thirty-thirty-one,” she answered. Throughout their regular chess matches, she had somehow assumed the position of their scorekeeper, and that was a role she took seriously. “Satan is currently in the lead.”

Satan gave his older brother a triumphant grin. “See? I told you it’s better to play offensively. Taking a defensive approach only serves to extend your suffering.”

“You only won one game more than I did. And rest assured, tomorrow will mark the start of your losing streak,” Lucifer answered. “Anyway. This has been delightful, but I have to speak with Diavolo about something, so I’ll leave you two to clean up.”

“You’re always talking to Diavolo.” Satan tilted his head, and there was a strangely malicious look in his eyes. “One would think you two are more than just…friends.”

“I have no need to answer to your curiosity,” Lucifer replied. His red gaze was cool. “Besides, you have better things to amuse yourself with than my affairs, Satan.”

It was a subtle warning for the fourth-born to stop questioning; she half-expected him to ignore Lucifer, but instead, Satan glanced at her and shrugged. “Whatever you say,” he hummed, and with a quick word of farewell, Lucifer walked out of the common room. Satan sighed and relaxed into his chair, stretching gracefully – she couldn’t help but be reminded of a cat. “Why are you still standing around?”

She jumped. “Oh. Sorry.” She hesitated, unsure of what he wanted her to do.

He chuckled. “Don’t apologise. Talk to me for a while. I’ve some time until I have to go out.” His gaze lingered on her, and she swallowed as she settled on the seat Lucifer had vacated, suddenly aware of just how intense his green eyes were.

“Where are you going?” she asked, trying to distract herself.

Satan exhaled. “Meeting Mammon. He said he needed a little help in town. Likely some scheme to trick yet another wealthy noblewoman into parting with her money, but anyone foolish enough to trust Mammon deserves what they get.”

Mammon. The second-oldest brother. She hardly ever saw him – he stayed out of the mansion most of the time, preferring to linger in the town’s illegal gambling dens, though he seemed friendly enough. “I didn’t know you two were close.”

“Close? Not really. But someone needs to keep an eye on him. We can’t have an angry mob running him out of town now, can we?” There was something charming about the roguish smile on his face. “Do you like to play chess?”

“I like watching you and Lucifer play. But I’m not fantastic at it,” she confessed. She knew the rules, and she had played a few games before with some of the residents, but she had never won. “You’d probably get bored if you play against me.”

“Hm. How bad could you possibly be?” He leant a little closer, and she felt trapped by those green eyes, unable to tear her gaze away from him. “I’m quite interested now. Why don’t we play one round? Whoever wins will get a favour from the loser.”

“That’s not fair. I’d lose for sure.” There was no chance at all that she’d come close to beating him in chess. She’d be surprised if the game lasted even ten minutes.

Something flickered in his eyes, an emotion she was unable to identify. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be accused of bullying a lady. How about this? You get two moves every turn while I get one. That should give you a distinct advantage, shouldn’t it?”

She hesitated. Even then, she wasn’t sure if she stood a fighting chance, but he was looking expectantly at her and she found it difficult to say no. What was the worst that could happen? At most he might ask her to bring dinner up to his room for a month or something. “Fine. If I beat you then you will owe me a favour, right?”

Satan nodded. “And vice-versa. But don’t worry, even if I win, I wouldn’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

He seemed trustworthy. She didn’t doubt his words, though it was somewhat discouraging to hear him talk as if he had already won. They began to play – he allowed her to make the first move, but even then, it wasn’t long before he turned the tables on her. It seemed like not even fifteen minutes had passed before he declared checkmate and she collapsed back into her chair, soundly defeated.

“I should have known better than to play against you, even with a handicap,” she huffed, eyeing Satan as he gave her a satisfied grin, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “That was outright bullying. Our skill levels are simply too different.”

“You agreed to the game with all its conditions.” His smile faded, being replaced by something more thoughtful. “And I already know what I’d like you to do.”

His favour. She wondered what he wanted from her. Satan didn’t say anything for a while, and as the silence stretched on, she began to feel uncomfortable, fidgeting a little in her seat. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Come here,” he invited.

She wasn’t sure what he had planned, but she approached him anyway. At first, she made sure there was a respectable distance between them, yet still, he beckoned her closer. When she was finally near enough, he grabbed her wrist and drew her to him, a little gasp of surprise escaping her mouth as she stumbled into his armchair.

He caught her before she fell onto his lap, one hand holding her up by the waist, his other still wrapped around her wrist. Her breath froze as she realised that she was right above him – his face was tilted upwards, his gaze fixed intently on her. “You’re so naïve sometimes,” he whispered, “but I think that’s what I find the most interesting about you. How you can continue to waltz around this place, completely unaware of how much danger you’re in.” His hand left her wrist, reaching up to her cheek.

His fingers lingered close to her, but he didn’t touch, and she tensed at just how close he was – her heart was hammering in her chest, and she found it difficult to focus on his words. “Diavolo promised that I’d be safe here,” she breathed.

“There’s only so much protection Diavolo can offer,” he replied. His fingers drifted down, hovering near her chin now. Still, he didn’t touch her. “The thing about our kind is that when we desire something, we become almost impossible to reason with.”

“And is there something you desire?” she asked – the words slipped out naturally, though her mind was racing, maybe from panic or nervousness or something else entirely. At her question, he tugged lightly on her waist and she fell forward onto him, settling comfortably on his lap. Her first instinct was to leap right off, but his grip on her tightened and she found she was unable to move.

“Of course. We all desire one thing above anything else.” He touched her chin then and she jerked, startled by how delicate his touch was – he tipped her head back, forcing her to bare her throat, and she stiffened, wondering if he was about to bite.

Should she scream? She wanted to – she had half a mind to. But he shushed her, almost as though he could read her mind. “Let’s not make too much noise now.” His voice was a murmur, alluring, enticing. “You owe me a favour, don’t you?”

“And this is what you want? My blood?” She had intended for her words to sound accusatory, but they lacked any real heat, and she saw his lips curve up – there was the barest hint of fang in that smile, and a shiver ran down her spine. “You said you wouldn’t ask for anything that made me feel uncomfortable!” she protested.

He nodded. “I did. But do you want me to stop?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely curious – she wanted to say yes, she wanted to tell him to stop and let her go right now, but when she opened her mouth to speak, her voice failed her.

He lowered his head and pressed his lips against the hollow of her throat, and she moaned, twitching when she felt the tips of his fangs press softly into her skin. “I’m not going to bite unless you say I can,” he told her. It was difficult not to reach up and run her fingers through his silky golden hair, to just let herself sink into the temptation he offered. It’ll feel good, his eyes seemed to tell her. There will be no pain. And she wanted to believe him.

His lips trailed down from her neck to her shoulder, one of his hands tugging at the collar of her shirt, exposing her skin to the cool air. She felt vulnerable like this, but there was no urge to push him away – her head lolled back, and she exhaled. “Why do you want my blood?” she asked, her voice the softest of murmurs.

“Do you know how sweet you smell?” Satan sounded almost plaintive. “All these times you lingered, watching me and Lucifer – it’s so difficult to concentrate when you’re standing there, looking so innocent…and so distracted.” His finger traced a line down her throat, and she had to bite her lip so that she wouldn’t cry out. “You’re a precious little lamb hiding in a den full of wolves. Shouldn’t you be more careful?”

Little lamb. The two words pierced right through her and suddenly she remembered a lazy smile and light orange eyes, eyes that sometimes looked almost the colour of blood – she nearly fell out of Satan’s lap in shock, thankfully catching her balance before she collapsed onto the floor. He stared at her, surprise in his green eyes, but she couldn’t focus on him now. The skin where his lips, his fangs had touched was burning hot, but she ran out of the common room, heading up the stairs.

She didn’t know why. She just had a sudden awful feeling, like something was sinking in the pit of her stomach. She went to Asmodeus’ room and tried the door, grateful when it opened without any difficulty. “Asmodeus?” she called.

The room was empty. She glanced around, wondering where he was – she was certain that he hadn’t left the mansion – but then suddenly the door shifted and she felt a lean arm wrap around her waist, keeping her still. Slender fingers touched her chin and tipped her head sideways. “Why are you here?” he breathed.

His voice was strained. She had never heard him sounding this way before. “I got the feeling that something was wrong,” she answered, and his grip on her tightened in response. “I thought I’d better come and check on you, just in case.”

“You have quite an uncanny sixth sense, don’t you, little lamb?” he rasped, and she felt his breath against her ear, making her shiver. “Did you know? Vampires are very possessive creatures. Territorial, even.” He paused. “You smell just like Satan.”

“Are you all right?” She tried to turn to look at him, but his grip on her was firm and she was practically immobile. Asmodeus didn’t say anything for a moment, though he leant back against his door, slowly closing it. It clicked shut with a solemn finality.

Maybe she ought to be more afraid. He wasn’t his usual self, and Asmodeus was, at the end of the day, a vampire – but she didn’t fear him. This mansion was the home of several dangerous men, but he had never once made her feel unsafe. Granted, his casual flirting and his teasing smiles confused her sometimes, but he had never tried to attack her, never once even hinted that he was interested in feeding on her.

“I’m not all right,” he finally said, his voice low. “I don’t like knowing that one of my brothers tried to bite you. I don’t like knowing just how ready you were to give in.”

“How did you know…?” Her head was pressed to his chest, and she could hear his heart. It was beating fast, so fast that she was a little concerned. This wasn’t normal.

“I needed some air. When I went down the stairs, I happened to hear everything that was going on in the common room. Neither of you was particularly subtle, you know.” His grip on her slackened, but she didn’t try to step away, uncertain about how he might respond. “Weren’t you about to let him sink his fangs into your pretty neck?”

“No, I wasn’t.” At least she didn’t think she would have. She slowly turned her head, looking up at him, and noticed with a jolt that his eyes were now a bright, vivid ruby, the same shade of red as Lucifer’s. “But would you have minded if I was?”

His eyes widened for a second, then he gave her that familiar breezy smile, laughing gently, letting go of her – she would have believed everything was fine if she didn’t notice his fingers clenched into fists at his sides. “No, I wouldn’t have. Feel free to offer your blood to anyone in this mansion, darling.” His smile was beginning to look forced. “Though I would tell you to be careful. I recall losing too much blood can be fatal for humans.”

“Do you want my blood then, Asmodeus?” He paused, glancing away from her, his eyelids lowering – his eyelashes were long and thick, and she was a little envious of just how pretty he was. “Because you’ve been behaving strangely ever since I came to your room. It’s almost as if you don’t like the thought of me being with Satan.”

Under normal circumstances, Asmodeus would have laughed it off and told her to have a good time. That was simply the kind of person he was. He glanced up at her then and she noticed that he looked almost upset. “Am I supposed to be happy for you?” he asked. “Do you want me to laugh and smile, and pretend that everything is fine? I can do that if you want me to. If that would make you more comfortable.”

She paused for a moment, just staring at him. Finally, she sighed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, a corner of her mind surprised at the way this conversation was going. He was the last person she thought she would ever have to press for an answer.

Asmodeus was so carefree and easy-going most of the time. Compared to the rest, he was practically an open book. Or so she thought. “Nothing,” he muttered. “I’m just…a little tired. You should go and enjoy yourself. Do something fun for once.”

Was he chasing her out? Something was definitely wrong. “No, I’m not leaving this spot until you tell me what’s going on,” she retorted. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was so insistent on being told the truth – all she knew was that Asmodeus wasn’t his usual self and she was concerned about him. He refused to look at her, his lips pressed stubbornly together, and she looked around, wondering how she could make him talk.

Her gaze landed on a letter opener he had left on his desk, and a sudden idea came to mind. She didn’t stop to think about whether it was a good idea or not – she just picked up the tool and studied its sharp edge. She could feel Asmodeus staring at her. She glanced at him, and he seemed transfixed by the tiny blade in her hand.

She drew a deep breath and raised the letter opener. His warning shout came too late, and she cut her open palm with the blade, the sudden pain making her gasp. The letter opener fell to the floor with a clatter, and she looked up from the wound – Asmodeus was still watching her, something almost like anguish in his eyes.

The cut wasn’t deep. But when she clenched her fingers, the thin line of crimson wept, bright red trickling down her wrist. “Asmodeus,” she said. “Look at me.”

For a moment she wondered if he even heard her, but then his gaze flicked up to her and she stretched her hand out, offering it to him. “You can drink if you want,” she told him, wondering if he’d take up her offer, wondering if he’d –

Asmodeus grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. But he didn’t do anything else, just staring at the bloodied hand in his grasp, his chest heaving. “What were you thinking, darling?” he asked, his voice husky. “You don’t tease a vampire like this. There are other ways to attract my attention. Safer ways.”

“I want you to bite me.” When she said those words, she realised that they were true – that no matter how good Satan made her feel, Asmodeus constantly lingered in the back of her mind, his smile and his silky hair and his uniquely sweet scent drawing her attention away. If she was going to be bitten by anyone, if she were to find out first-hand just how good a vampire’s bite was, then she wanted it to be him.

Infuriating, gorgeous Asmodeus who laughed with the careless abandon of a man who owned everything in the world. A man who knew just how handsome he was and who could choose to amuse himself with anyone he wanted. A man that most women could only dream of, who now stared at her with a look of indescribable hunger on his face. She wondered how long it had been since he last spent the night with someone.

“Are you sure, little lamb?” he whispered. “If you offer me something so precious, there’s no turning back. I’m not the kind who likes to share.”

She nodded. She didn’t just offer her blood to anyone, either. Her heart and her mind were ensnared by thoughts of this man – when was the last time a day went past without her thinking about Asmodeus? She couldn’t remember.

“How long has it been since you last drank?” she asked. His eyes darkened at the question; instead of answering, he raised her hand to his mouth, his lips pressing delicate kisses up her wrist to her palm. His tongue flicked out, running over the wound, and she gasped – it didn’t hurt, but that touch alone made her tremble. “Last night was the first night you stayed out in a while.”

She was surprised she could still talk normally. His nearness was making her mind fuzzy. “I didn’t go anywhere last night,” he mumbled, not meeting her gaze. “Just couldn’t sleep. I went out for a walk. Didn’t end up drinking from anyone.”

Before she could ask anything else, he bared his fangs and the next thing she knew they were piercing her skin, and a soft cry left her lips, the brief sting quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure that radiated from her hand to the rest of her body. “Asmodeus…” Did that breathy voice belong to her? She felt her knees give way, but his other arm caught her, preventing her from falling to the ground.

She never knew such euphoria was possible. She was floating, and her head felt ridiculously light. She couldn’t move any part of her body, and she didn’t want to either. He was slow and careful, not allowing a single drop of blood to hit the ground, and she whimpered when he sucked gently on the wound. He looked almost dazed, and she thought woozily about how beautiful he was, drinking from her like this. “Asmodeus,” she repeated, her voice weak, trying to reach for his face.

He released her hand, running his tongue once again over the cut, giving her palm a tender kiss. His eyes almost seemed to shimmer, and for a moment neither of them said a word – then he scooped her into his arms and deposited her on his bed, his hand gently cupping her cheek. “You should rest. You lost a fair bit of blood,” he told her.

“I want you.” She sounded stronger than she felt, and she saw his shoulders stiffen – he glanced at her, and she thought that this hesitance was very different from the Asmodeus she was used to. “I want you, Asmodeus. I’ve wanted you for a while.”

He sighed. “Darling…” But he didn’t resist when she feebly latched onto his collar, going along when she pulled him onto her. He held himself up, careful not to lie on her, and she tugged at his collar, frowning at him. “If I had known that biting you would make you behave like this, then I would have bitten you sooner.” He shook his head, though there was a small smirk on his face. “Aren’t you tired, my little lamb?”

“No.” She thought about the pleasure his bite had brought her and she shuddered, moaning again. “Come here.” She cupped his face and he laughed into her mouth when she pulled him down to kiss her. He lowered himself gently onto her, and she squirmed under his weight, enjoying the sensation of his body against hers.

“Are you only doing this because you want me to bite you again?” he whispered. “I have to admit that you’re confusing me. Just this morning you were running away from my room, and now you’re in my bed, you’ve given me your blood…have you been possessed by a demon, perhaps?” But she could see the hope that hid in his eyes, sense it in the way he pulled back, waiting for her to give him an answer.

“Do you love me?” she asked instead, and he flinched at the question – her hands reached up to run through his silky hair, and she felt him relax a little at her touch.

“Love is such a fickle thing,” he murmured. “I could tell you yes today, but would it still be the same tomorrow?” His gaze softened. “What I can tell you is that I want to protect you. I want to see you smile. I like how you blush and turn away whenever I tease you. I don’t know about love, but you’re undeniably precious to me.”

The look on his face made her chest ache. “Who hurt you, Asmodeus?” she asked, sliding a hand down the side of his face to rest on his cheek.

He chuckled. “No one you need to care about.” His eyes darkened and she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck when he kissed her again, this time a deeper, hungrier kiss – her body jerked when he ground his hips against her, and she pulled back, her cheeks flushed. “Yes. Keep looking at me like that,” he breathed, his gaze flitting all over her face. “I love seeing how flustered you get around me.”

He ground his hips against her again, slowly this time, and her legs instinctively fell open, cradling him between her thighs. He lowered his head, his mouth trailing soft kisses across her neck, and her eyelids fluttered as she whimpered, getting dizzy from his touch, from his intoxicating scent. He groaned. “The women who flock to me pale in comparison to you, sweetheart,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against her ear.

“You’re a known womaniser. I ought to be more careful,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders when he slipped a hand between her thighs, underneath her skirt. Her skin tingled wherever he touched. “Asmodeus…”

“It’s been more than a month since I last slept with anyone,” he confessed, the ring of reverence in his words. “I can’t think about other women. They’re mere distractions, while I’m nothing but a fool, yearning for someone who only ever spurns my advances.” But his fingers inched up her thigh and she certainly wasn’t resisting now, her head jerking back into his pillows when he finally stroked her through her underwear. She was already wet.

“You must be really thirsty…” She wasn’t so far gone that she failed to realise the implications of his words. Asmodeus didn’t take his meals with the rest of the residents. He complained that bottled blood tasted stale. And if he hadn’t been with anyone for a month – “How did you manage to survive without drinking for that long?”

“I did feed. Sometimes. I just didn’t bed them. They didn’t interest me.” He nipped at her neck and she yelped, feeling his teeth graze her skin. “Their blood tasted so bland. They were nothing like this. Nothing like you.”

His fingers worked their way beneath her panties, and she sighed when he spread her damp folds, his slender fingers sliding languidly against her wet sex. “But enough about me. Tonight, I’m going to make you feel so good, you won’t want to leave this bed,” he promised. When she looked into his gorgeous eyes, she couldn’t help but believe him.

#asmo obey me #asmodeus obey me #asmo x mc #asmodeus x mc #satan obey me #satan x mc #asmodeus #satan #obey me #obey me shall we date

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c-atm · 5 years

Text

Bittersweet meetings pt6

*November 7th..Night of Connie's birthday.*

Steven slightly turned the knob of the burgandy door at the back of the house; stepping into the kitchen of the Maheswaran household as he did many times. In his hand a small cobalt blue box with a gold ribbon, a gift for his closest friend on her birthday.

The kitchen itself was empty for the moment, but in the living room he saw some people not much. Most were already engaging in conversation near a wall or on the couch playing the gaming system. Though Steven could hear the music blaring from underneath them; the basement. He looked to the southern wall, saw the table where the gifts were being held and decided against adding his. He look towards the stairs and smirked as a plan formed in his mind.

He took to the stairs greeting people as he did and climbed up to the second floor. He walked to the second door on the left and entered unnoticed. A third of the room glowed in a natural light from outside; including Connie's bed and desk. He's been in this room many times before, but this time he felt different. There was a swell in his chest.

“it's been a few weeks since I've been in here. Still as orderly as ever.. and still smell of jasmine.” Steven let off a chuckle before taking notice of a slightly old picture of the two on her desk. the picture was taken during one of their group excursions, a karaoke bar. Steven and Connie was performing, mic in one hand and the other connecting them. He couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked in that pic, despite it being mid ‘belt out’ of ‘Partners in Crime’

‘But she always do...ok enough fawning over her. I'm here for a reason.’ He scolding thought before turning to the bed he gently laid the present on the blue pillow on the bed with a card next to it. Happy with his work, the teen left the room discreetly. as he was walking away from the room he felt two strong, feminine arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders and a very womanly form pressed behind him. He froze, feeling the person breath in his ear.

“Oh my. you've grown haven't you, Lil Stevie?”

His eyes widen at the sultry, accusatory voice before turning around and looking down at a 20 year old beauty, who was smirking at him. They had lighter mocha skin than Connie, slightly smaller nose as well. They shared the same hair color and length, though there was a streak of pink in it. They also shared the same black pools for eyes as Connie. He hugged the ;person and gave them a twirl.

“Stevonnie! Oh my gosh, when did you get in? How’s college? ”

The surprised person laughed a bit at his antics before tapping his shoulders. “ A week ago and it’s good, it's good. Hey, can you put me down big guy, you'll mess up the outfit.”

“Oops, Sorry.” He placed them down and stepped back at his older friend and alumni. “You’re looking great. You must be beating people away with a stick on campus.”

“Well yeah, that because I don't have my little protector...Though you’re not so little anymore.”

He watched them straighten out their skirt of their burgundy hoodie dress before shooting him a look. Stevonnie walked around Steven looking him over as they did, causing Steven to feel self-conscious as they poked and gripped his arms approvingly.

“What?” Steven watched them as Stevonnie stopped and whistled, hand on their cheek.

“Where all this man come from, you didn’t have all this when I saw you last”

“That was nearly a year ago, I did, and you still saw me as you ‘kid-brother’.”

“Then maybe i’m blind. Sheesh, you all growing up and becoming attractive young adults.”

“Your only what, two to three years older than us.”

“Where's the twelve-year-old who gave me and Connie chocolate every time he visited?”

“Oh god, you still remember those days?”Steven scoffed with an embarrassing smirk at Stevonnie's jest.

“How I'm supposed to forget my first confession; you were such a dapper little tween with your tuxedo and pompadour."

“Stop. Please stop mentioning my old crush.” Steven flushed red as stevonnie giggle at his protest as they ruffled his head fondly.

“You've really had grown since I've been gone, kind of sad really. If I knew my cute admirer would have such an upgrade, I would've accepted your proposal."

"Well too late, you sibling-zoned me. So you get to admire me from afar." Stevonnie rolled their eyes at his playful boast.

"Sure,sure probably for the best; last thing I want is to wake up to a rabid Connie...Speaking of, what are you doing up here?"

Steven looked at them sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. "Just came from the bathroom."

Stevonnie arched an eyebrow and gave an accusatory smile as they folded their arms under their breast. "There's one downstairs where the party at and I just came out of the one up here, try again sweetie."

"Uhhh..Psssh..got lost."

"Really in your ‘home away from home’ Steven...Now tell me, Why did I see you come out of my little sister's room?"

Their authoritative voice froze the boy into submission. it sounded just like their mother and sister, same effectiveness too.

"I was just dropping of my gift, didn't want it to get lost in the chaos that is the gift table. That’s all.”

Stevonnie gave him a quick side eye glance before adopting a mischievous grin. “Sooo….What you got herrr?”

Steven shook his head and pulled his index and thumb across his lips. “Lips are sealed, Vonnie.”

“Oooo, it must be something good if you can’t share it with me. Which makes me \want to know even more.”

“I bet, but I ain’t saying anything...It’s a personal gift from me to her. That’s all”

Stevonnie lifted their arms in surrender at the serious tone of Steven.” No problem, far be it for me to pry in your two relationship...can I ask one thing though.”

Steven nodded towards his friend, who looked at him with a bit of sympathy.

"Is everything ok with you and her?"

Steven gave a faux smirk before shrugging his shoulders. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You’re dropping off your gift.”

Stevonnie watched as a Steven nostrils flared ever so slightly and his persona was a bit more somber.

“Nothing is wrong. Me and Connie are alright.”

Stevonnie squinted their eyes in a small glare, hands on their hips. “Uh-huh...So are you going to stay then?”

“For a bit.”

“Glad to hear it and since that is settled, how about we go downstairs to the party, huh?“

“Wait a minute, Vonnie” Steven started to protest as stevonnie latched their arm around his.

“Nope, you’re my date for the moment and as such I want a dance. Maybe it’ll help you with that disposition of yours, yeah?”

Steven knew he couldn’t argue with as they dragged him down the stairs and smiled a slightly mischievous smile at him. Steven bit back a groan as Stevonnie sighed with mock melancholy.

“You know how to make a person feel wanted, Steven. Here I am dressed in one of my best, hanging on your arms, begging for your company and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“Stevonnie, come on..Just not in the mood for a party..that’s all.”

Stevonnie groaned as she led him to the kitchen away from everyone and pointed to a chair near it’s island. Steven sat, looking a mixture of bored and annoyed as Stevonnie sat across from him. Stevonnie glared deeply into his eyes before speaking.

“Does this have to do with the guy hanging around Connie lately?”

Steven tensed for a quick moment, tightening his fist before answering. “I...don’t know what you mean?

“The guy who introduced himself as Connie ‘boyfriend’.”

Steven eyes widened at that before standing up, lip in a tight frown.“Really, is that so?”

Stevonnie guided him back to his seat, holding his fist in a calming way. “Geez, relax lil’ Stevie, It’s ok.”

Steven breathed deeply but his demeanor didn’t change. “I’m fine..She can date whoever she wants. No skin off my back.”

Stevonnie giggled at his claim before answering. “Uh huh..Is that why you look like you’re ready to cause WW3 though 5.”

Steven blushed embarrassingly and bit the inside of his cheek. Stevonnie shook their head at the surprising stubbornness of the otherwise easy going lad. “It’s ok to be jealous, Steven.”

Steven scoffed with a mirthless laugh. “I’m not jealous...just feel some sort a way. mean..I wasn’t even aware that she did or would want decide to date anyone. Then she got with some no name while I was out sick and it was one of our close friends that set up the meeting and i’m the last one to find out.

Stevonnie nodded in agreement but before she could open her mouth, the door leading to the back yard open revealing Priyanka and Doug Maheswaran holding two string handled bags and a decorative cake respectively. The two on the island rushed to assist the couple, Steven helping Doug with the cake placement on the island, and Stevonnie taking the surprising heavy bags from their mother upstairs. Priyanka shaked and flexed her fingers and hands in relief before taking Stevonnies’ seat as Doug went and got his wife something hot to drink before giving the boy a small, motherly smile.

“Thank you for the assistance Steven.”

Steven waved the gratitude off .“Anytime Dr.Priya, you seem a bit tired though.”

”Priyanka nodded in agreement “Been up since early this morning getting all this together.”

Steven watched as she took the cup of dijong tea from her husband, giving him a tender kiss and a bright smile..It reminded him of Connie’s.

“how are you doing this evening Steven?”

Steven shook his head and blushed in embarrassment after being caught daydreaming. “I’m sorry, what did you say.”

Priyanka and Doug shared a quick glance before Priyanka spoke. “ How are you this evening, everything ok, Sweetie?”

Steven nodded his head and smiled at appreciatively at Priyanka. “Sorry yeah I’m ok..Just in my thoughts a bit.”

Doug smirked as he sat next to Priyanka and casually massaging her left hand.

“Well, we’re glad you found time to celebrate with us,Steven. For a minute, we thought you wasn’t going to show.”

Steven gave a slightly strained chuckle. “Yeah, I really can’t stay long though..Just long enough to drop off my present.”

“Oh and where exactly is the present,young man?”

Just a Steven was about to answer, a voice beat him to it.

“He sneaked into Connie’s room and left it on her pillow..he was very delicate as well.”

While Steven turned to see Stevonnie walk in, smirking at the now red faced teen; the Maheswaren shared a secret smirk between each other. Priyanka cleared her throat gaining the attention of the two..

“Steven that’s quite charming, though it begs the question...What did you get her?”

“Nothing, just a PMP she had her eye on for awhile and some other things.”

“Other things, hmm?”

“What other things, Son?”

Steven groaned at Doug and Stevonnie teasing; causing Priyanka to snicker before assisting the teen.

"Ok you two, leave the poor boy alone."

With a chuckle and scoff the daddy-child duo eased off Steven, who gave an appreciative nod towards the house matriarch.

"Gifts aside, I hope your sporadic appearances will become more frequent like it before. It's been a little off without your visits."

"You know, my parents said the same thing about Connie..."

Doug nodded with a smirk. “It has been a while since you stopped by..thought you abandon us, son.”

Steven gave a mocked scoff. “Nothing of the sort, Mensiour Doug..Just been busy, school, clubs and stuff.”

"He doesn't like Connie's new guy very much."

Steven eyes widen at the older person exasperatedly as Stevonnie took a seat at the other end of the island. "Really Stevonnie."

"Am I wrong?"

"Can't dislike someone I have never met…Can I ask, what is your opinion of him,Good guy?"

Stevonnie sighed. " He's a nice kid, but the 'relationship' seems kind of jokey."

Priyanka looked at her eldest with a slight disdain "Rude".

Stevonnie shrugged "But true. What you think Dad?"

Doug hummed with his eyes close before giving an answer. "Seems like a good guy, but I am in agreement about their relationship seeming kind of rehearsed."

Priyanka shook her head at her child and husband before turning to Steven, who was looking expectantly. "He's a nice guy, Steven."

Steven sighed. "That's good and Connie is happy."

"She seems to be,There's no big change in her demeanor. "

"Seems to be?"

The Maheswarans heard the irritation in his question.

"There seems to be a strictly platonic tone when she talked about jim. " Stevonnie chimed in causing Priyanka to begrudgingly nod in agreement.

"His name's Jeff, 'vonnie."

"For real?" Stevonnie flushed in embarrassment as both her parents and Steven nodded. "Don't that be all."

Steven shook his head at Stevonnie a small smile on his face when he felt Priyanka squeezed the teen shoulder gently before speaking. "Steven, she never told you about him?".

Steven shook his head again as Priyanka took a sip of her tea before continuing. "Don't let it get to you, Steven."

Steven shrugged "I'm not...Just felt like she ghosted me. Wouldn't she want her Biscuit to meet her boyfriend?"

Priyanka couldn't help feeling bad for the boy she saw as a son, but also feel a little giddy at the apparent jealousy. "Which is why you don't have to worry... Now, while I hate to come off as criticizing, if she has not introduced you to him, it may be a casual thing and not anything important. Which is believable, when you compare their interactions to yours, which are MUCH more intimate in nature."

Steven allowed a small smile on his face.It wasn't the first time he heard someone state, one way or another, that Connie and him seemed like a romantic couple. It got to the point that they would jokingly flirt with each other; calling each other silly pet name like 'Hubby and Wifey' and over-exaggerate seeing each other.

Though there were times when the flirting was very sincere and full of affection. Times when they referred to each other as ‘Biscuit’ and ‘Berry’. Times when they unwittingly found each other hand during their outings. Their joy rides on 'lion', where despite having a passenger sidecar,she always opted to sit behind him; her reasons being she feels more secure holding him and it’s comfy. Times when they watched a movie together and would end up cozying up together, one head on the others chest while the other held them close enjoying the warmth. didn’t matter if they were with their group or not.

“Looking kind of relieved there ,Stevie.”

Stevonnie teasing voice caused the teen looked up at the family who each member held a knowing grin.

"I have nothing to be relieved about...That being said I'm going to wish the birthday girl a happy birthday before I head home. He gave them an appreciative smile before he got up and walked out of the kitchen and toward the basement stairs. The music was loud even before he opened the familiar green door and for a quick moment blared as he opened and closed it. As he walked down the stairs the high paced rock music changed into a fusion of slow r&b and pop.

He opened the door darkened by the stairwell and entered the basement that resembled a small party hall; more than enough room for the 20+ people that currently resided in it. The basement was dimly lit with multicolored strobe lights, but not so much that it tempted unwanted attention. He could see everything clearly; from the mini kitchen on the far east complete with fridge,sink and refreshments. The DJ booth at the back with a good friend of theirs, Sour Cream, manning the one and twos.

He spotted some people from school as well as some from around the neighborhood. It was a sea of dancing and conversing `seventeen thru nineteen year olds...With a few twenty-one year olds they knew playing chaperone. All in all looked like it was a good time. He walked his way through the crowd saying his greeting to all who happened to spot him, giving the smallest of talks when he needed as he tried to find his berry, only to stop as his lungs got caught up in his throat as he saw her.

Forest green crop top sweater zipped down with a light green collarless shirt underneath, a pair of black Jean's that gently hugged her hips yet were baggy legged and a pair of small heeled copper boots. Her dark brown hair was in neat ponytail that stopped right at the center of her back. She had on the smallest amount of her signature lip gloss giving a slight but noticeable gleam to her lips and no other makeup

"Not that it's needed." Steven couldn't help his stare and the feelings within as he drank in the newly minted 17 year-old form. Her ever confident stance and gentle smiled as she conversed with the rest of their friends. The way her clothes showed off her figure respectfully and the gloss. Not the first time he saw her wear it and yet it made her more adorable. Yet he couldn't take a step towards her.

He was nervous. He was nervous to speak to Connie, something he hasn't been since the first time he met her. ‘The hell are you doing, Universe? It's Just Connie. Your bud, friend, confidant. Your Berry..The hell are you afraid of.' Steven breathed deeply trying to silence pounding heart. With clenched fists and determination he took a step towards her and their friends..

Only to see another slightly taller guy with a matching color scheme stand beside her. Very lightly tan skin, slim build, slightly messy brown hair, brown eyes. He had a small smile as he took her hand and introduced himself to the group .Steven watched as Connie was lead deeper into the crowd, seemingly not minding the hand on the small of her back.

Despite having a quite a few people between them, Steven felt he was right there with her. Her scent of jasmine and chai found his nose easily. Her unique giggle vibrated in his ear despite the music of ‘Tee lopes Yourniverse’ playing at a thundering level. His eves couldn’t leave his berry as she danced. The lightness of her steps, the small rotative movements of her arms, the sway of her hips and waist. It was all intoxicating, melodic and hypnotizing respectively.

He watched her date grabbed her hand and danced in away that was complementary to her own and despite being a visible distance away from each other, sans their hands, Steven couldn't help the heat in his chest and the small growl in his throat. As he was about to step towards them, he felt someone whispered gently and coolly in his ear from behind.

"Aren't you gonna wish her happy birthday?"

Steven turned in surprise as he came face to face with shining deep blue eyes looking up at him; familiar ocean blue hair was in a stylized bang-bob combo, and a slightly freckled face that held a sly yet sad smile.He found himself blushing under the gaze of one Lapis Oceana lazuli.

#connie maheswaran #steven universe #connverse #fanfic #bittersweet #steven universe fanfiction #poc fanfiction writers #black fanfiction writers #fanfiction #older steven #steven universe au #teen connie maheswaran #teen steven #please critique #please read and reblog #please read and review #also on ao3

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josiewinters1999 · 5 years

Photo

SuperWho x Avengers x OFC in Tribal!AU

Summary: Post Infinity War, the remaining Avengers need a safe place to regroup, what better place to do it than the ancient lost city hidden deep in the Gallifreyan forest?

Chapter 2: Day 1 pt1

Words: 5020

Contains: Mentions of alcohol/drug abuse, IW spoilers, mentions of death, angst

A/N: So sorry to anyone who was interested in this for being so late. I really have no excuse lol. Anyhow here it is. I’m hoping this chapter gives more insight to the characters backgrounds and prior relationships. Also thank you guys SO MUCH for all the support. I have never got more support for anything I’ve written here. I hope you guys enjoy these and are actually reading them. :)

Laying in his warm bed, Steve stares up at the ceiling. Sunlight begins to pour into the apartment bedroom through the window to Steve’s left. He turns his head to his nightstand, also on his left. The digital clock read that it’s currently 6 am. Typically, Steve would be up already but he’d been staring at the blank beige ceiling for over an hour, deep in thought, or lack thereof, he isn’t sure yet.

Wrapped in the crisp, soft, white, sheets next to him was a snoring body. The figure is sprawled across the remaining space in the bed, still wearing party clothes from the previous night. Her golden blond hair is frizzy and wild not only from sleep but her adventurous night. The red lipstick she wore stained her pillow case, and her eyeliner and mascara run down her face.

Steve looks over to the woman and sighs. How long was she going to do this? It’s no secret his girlfriend has a problem but he always hoped each time would be the last, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t.

Again and again he’d have to drag her out of trouble or bring her home before she got into it. Willie had a wild streak, that was for damn sure, and it only has gotten worse over the course of her and Steve’s relationship.

Glancing back at the ceiling, the super soldier let his mind wander. Images of her before their relationship flood his mind. Every time she entered a room, he’d swoon. Something about that lanky, London accented, time traveling alien held his attention hostage. He practically prayed the woman would just acknowledge his existence.

Then, after a few months of begging every force in the universe, she was suddenly fawning over him. The sudden change was something that should have sent up red flags in Steve’s head. He realizes that now, but at the time, he was in ecstasy. They started dating almost immediately, according to Willie’s wishes.

It all went downhill from there.

Steve’s heart clenches at the thought. Is it him? Is he to blame for Willie’s behavior? The guilt consumes him night and day but that pain is nothing compared to seeing his best gal come home a complete wreck most nights.

A rustle next to him pulls him from his thoughts. He darts his head to see Willie beginning to stir for the first time since she got home. She flips over, facing Steve with closed eyes and tired features.

A moan passes her blurry red lips as the light hits her closed eyelids. She mumbles something intelligible and Steve throws the blankets off him to shut the curtain. After throwing the fabric shut, he looks back to see Willie quiet once more.

He stands at the window for a moment, watching her in her deep sleep. He looks back at the clock, hoping it might tell him what the next thing to do should be. In addition to the time, it reads Wednesday.

Despite her impaired senses, Willie can sense someone is watching her. She slowly and carefully opens her eyes, being cautious of her pounding headache. When they are opened, all she sees is a blurry room and a tall figure by the window. It’s a figure she instantly recognizes and she is at ease.

An urge in her body arises and she lifts herself up to go tend to it. Throwing off the blankets to go to the bathroom, Willie stands. She wobbles for a bit before regaining her balance. A concerned voice behind her calls to her, “Willie,” Steve practically begs.

Anger surges through her in an instant, the hangover taking control, and she clenches one hand, raising the other to stop his speaking. Marching off to the bathroom, she leaves Steve alone.

He sighs, his shoulders sinking with his heart as he stands there in his empty bedroom listening to the movement in the bathroom just on the other side of the door.

He doesn’t move from his spot during the whole sequence, only waits patiently for Willie to finish. The doorknob jiggles and he looks to it instantly. Stepping out, Willie gives him one quick look with her sunken in eyes, and briskly trots out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen.

The super soldier waits a little longer before following her. Upon entering their kitchen, Steve watches with a cautious look as Willie brews a cup of coffee and lights a cigarette. Her hand lowers the zippo lighter back onto the counter and she takes a drag, her shoulders releasing some tension as she exhales the smoke.

Steve takes in a quiet breath to speak but is cut off in an instant, “Don’t.” His girlfriend’s voice was cold and harsh, unlike how her voice was last night. Last night it was hot and fluid, influenced by all the substances she had consumed.

He turns his head down, gritting his teeth. His own anger was growing and his patience was wearing thin. “We’re talking. Whether you want to or not, we’re talking about last night.”

Willie sharply twists her body to lean against the counter, her cigarette still between her thin fingers, “And what exactly is there to talk about? Huh? I went out. So what?” she shrugs, her voice and gaze both weak and full of power at the same time.

“Went out?” Steve repeats, scoffing at the absurdity.

Waving a hand in dismissal, Willie turns back away from him and to her coffee, “I can take care of my damn self, Steve. I don’t need you to babysit me.” Spitting over her shoulder, she adds, “What I do on my own is none of your concern and I suggest you let me do what I do.”

Seeing red, Steve marches closer to her but not quite all the way. “How is none of this my concern?” he shouts. “It was a Tuesday night and you decided it would be a good idea to go get drunk. Again. You’re supposed to be getting better, Willie. It only seems like you’re getting worse.”

Willie bites her lip, secretly knowing Steve is right but not wanting to admit it, in fear he’ll take away her only coping mechanism. “Not only did I have to drag you off the street slobbering drunk and ready to fight, I found something last night,” Steve states matter-of-factly.

“What?” the Gallifreyan asks, already knowing the answer.

Steve raises his voice slightly, “You know what.” He pauses as she shakes her head, “Really? Cocaine. You brought cocaine into our home? You told me you were clean.”

Willie smacks the counter with her free hand, “And I was.” She clenches her fist, trying not to explode, “I was clean.”

With a quiet voice, Steve scoffs, shaking his head, “Why should I believe anything you say? You’ve lied to me about everything. The drinking, the drugs, the cheating, everything. And I forgave you-”

“Don’t you dare get all high and mighty with me, Rogers”

Steve steps forward more, even closer to her but still not all the way, “I forgave you on one condition every time.” His voice turns sad and full of hurt, eyes becoming glassy, “That you tell me why you do all this.” He very slowly reaches his hand forward to touch Willie’s shoulder, “I just want to help you, doll. I hate seeing the woman I love be so hurt. I-”

Willie swiftly and forcefully pushes his hand away, fury in her eyes as she looks him dead in the face for truly the first time that morning, “Why I do anything is none. Of. Your. Damn. Business.”

Shocked, the super soldier watches her as she glares him down. Her own eyes are starting to form tears. The skin around them is both black with makeup and red with sorrow. The sight makes Steve’s heart shatter.

Before any tears fall, Willie storms out of the kitchen and onto the terrace outside their apartment. Steve wants to rush after her but is too paralyzed with emotion to move.

***

Day 1

Steve watches Willie talk, her voice clear and authoritative. Her rosy lips move, a thin layer of sweat forming on her skin. It was glowing and her eyes are bright. Steve is lost, soaking up the view of her like he’s seeing her for the first time and falling in love all over again.

He stands in a circle at the edge of the clearing with Thor, Okoye, and a few Asgardians. All of them listening to Willie’s instructions as she prepares them to collect firewood.

As she speaks, Steve is miles away, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, “So the main thing you need to do when we go out here is stay quiet and stay hidden. This land isn’t forgiving and you will be killed if the wrong thing spots you.” She looks at every face in the crowd, stopping at Steve’s when she is met with his vacant look.

She lifts her eyebrow, confused, “You alright there, Stevie?”

He shakes his head, bringing himself to reality, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Nodding, she turns back to the others, her eyes being the last thing to leave him, “So is everyone on the same page?” She pauses, watching the people before her mumble affirmatively. “Good,” she responds, “Sam is watching the others, let’s go get some firewood.”

Pushing past them, she marches toward the silver treeline. The others follow her, Steve being the last to join them.

The woods was different than the clearing. The clearing was bright and blaring with sunlight while the forest was dark and a little cooler. However, not even the thick canopy could completely cut through the immense heat of the planet.

The air was more humid though, not as unforgivingly dry as it was in the clearing. That humidity gave way to life. Steve could hear the twittering of birds in the distance and the scuttling of small animals up trees. In addition, the plants at his feet filled his lungs with life. It was hard to concentrate on the task at hand with all this new information around him.

He looks ahead and sees the others gathering small silver logs and large sticks from the ground. Hearing a loud noise above him, Steve looks up instinctively. He sees Willie climbing the trees, picking bulbs off the branches and shoving them into her pockets.

Feeling eyes on her, she looks down to see Steve watching her. She points ahead, indicating he should be searching for tinder. He just stands motionless, unable to move. Sighing to herself, she climbs quickly down to the lowest branch of the tree. Willie then hugs the trunk with all four limbs and slides down it like a firepole.

Reaching the ground with a cloud of red dust flying up, she walks angrily up to Steve. She whispers loudly, “Go get wood.”

He silently nods, not speaking, and goes about the work she assigned him.

***

“Are you sure you can’t come in today?” the voice over the phone calls, “We could use some help training these new recruits.”

Looking over his shoulder to the bathroom door, Steve can hear vomiting and sobs through the wood. “Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s just Willie’s really sick and I want to be here to keep an eye on her.”

Steve hears a sigh over the line, “Sick. Sure.” There’s a long pause and Steve’s stomach twists with anxiety, “Steve, you can’t keep covering for her. Everyone knows she’s pulling you down.”

Muscles clenching, Steve scorns, “You better watch what you say about my girl there. She’s going through a rough time.”

The voice on the phone laughs, “A rough time that’s lasted for the past year.”

The Captain glances back at the door, “We’re working on it.”

“Work on it faster. This is the last time I’m gonna let you do this. Get your woman under control or I’m gonna take this to Director Fury.”

“He’d never get rid of me,” Steve retorts rather cockily.

“Not you, her.” and with that, the phone hangs up, a long tone conveying to Steve that the conversation was over. He slams the headset down, angry at their audacity.

The grunting and sobbing from the bathroom start to slow and quiet. Steve begins to worry and pads his way across the carpet to the bathroom door. He stops at it, listening. The only noise is the running sink. He knocks gently, calling his girlfriend’s name, “Willie? Doll, are you okay?”

She sniffles, calling to him from the floor in front of the toilet. “I’m fine babe,” her voice cracks through the sobs. She was speaking much gentler now.

Steve reaches to the knob and begins to turn it, “I’m coming in.” He pushes the white wood slab open, finding Willie collapsed on the floor, supporting herself on the tub next to the toilet.

“Sweetie,” he sighs. Shutting off the sink, Steve walks up to her, kneeling next to her. He pushes back the hair on her pale forehead and feels her skin with the back of his hand. She was at a normal human temperature, not particularly healthy for something like her.

Willie is too weak to protest Steve’s touches, despite her urge to scream. She allows him to pick her up, something he grunts doing, and carry her to their bed.

He places her upright against the cushions and pillows, sitting comfortably on top of the freshly made bed. He sits at her knees, his warm hand on her arm and his kind eyes staring worriedly at her.

“I wish you’d talk to me. I really do. I don’t want to hurt you, you have to know that by now,” he squeezes her forearm gently, “It’s been a whole year doll. Can’t you tell me anything?”

Willie turns her head from her lap to his eyes, the fire starting to regrow inside her. “You wouldn’t understand,” she spits.

Scooting closer to her, Steve grabs her hand in his other one, “But I want to, doll. Every night, I lay down next to the strongest woman I’ve ever known, just to hear her cry herself to sleep. There’s got to be a reason.”

The tears start falling down Willie’s face again, “What if I told you the reason would make you hate me?” she sobs.

“Honey,” he whines, “nothing you tell me could do that. I love you. Nothing is gonna change that. I promise.”

Instead of a speech, Steve is faced with sobs from his girlfriend, mixed with occasional muttering in her native tongue. Standing up, he walks around the bed to get in with her. She instantly grabs his shirt and buries herself into his shoulder.

***

By the time they got back, tents had been claimed, with the exception of the ones those who were chosen to venture into the woods would be assigned. As the new members of camp unpacked and made their new living spaces home, it was clear this new land was going to take getting used to, just by the looks on the people’s faces.

All the tents were lined up in two rows, each facing each other. This designated the center of camp. Willie had approached it, set down her armful of wood, and watched as her helpers did the same.

The fire had been started soon. It was almost like Steve had blinked and the pile of wood was ablaze. It reminded Steve just how good Willie was in her element. She was a primitive, always was, always will be. The sooner he realizes this the better.

Steve stands at the flame’s edge, staring into its light. With the fire and the suns above, blazing heat surrounded Steve on all sides, making his new long hair suddenly very uncomfortable.

Willie walks up, unbeknownst to him. She shakes some red dust from her hands, wiping them on her tactical pants. Her loud sigh indicates her presence and Steve glances halfway to the side, watching her boots as they make their way next to his. When she finally stops, he goes back to gazing at the fire.

“Suns are going down. High Priestess and her people should be here soon,” she explains in her familiar London accent. She crosses her arms, only about a foot away from Steve as he stands tall and erect.

He nods once, acknowledging her statement. He debates saying something regarding their status but remains deathly silent as she continues, “They’re bringing food and plan to for a couple more nights but we’re going to have to figure something out. The city can’t support this many people on the rations it has. Not forever.”

Steve only grunts, acknowledging her again. “I think we’ll need to set up some hunting and gathering groups and go out into the woods in shifts, but we won’t worry about that tonight. What do you think?”

Feeling rather insolent, he remains completely still and quiet, not even a grunt or nod. She waits patiently however, for his answer. After a long enough pause to indicate he has nothing to say, she turns her body towards him, “Steve.”

He gives no response. “This isn’t a fucking game Steve,” Willie can practically feel her blood pressure rise as she raises a straight hand to point toward one of the lines of tents, “These people will die if they aren’t taken care of and you’re going to stand here and act like a petulant child because we have history.”

Putting her arm down, she steps closer to Steve, lowering her voice just for him to hear over the crackle of the fire, “I know you feel guilty because you let half the universe die, but don’t make the same mistake twice.” And with an angry huff, she marches off.

***

Laying on his chest, Willie soaks up his warmth. Living outside her intended habitat took its toll on her body. The slightly higher body temperature of a human being was the best cure for her lack of two suns.

A protective arm around his best girl, and a hand placed over hers, Steve relishes in the feeling of her scarred skin on his. Her long gold hair splayed across his bed and her legs entwined with his is exactly how Steve wants to die.

Willie rubs Steve’s hand with her thumb, him returning the affection with his own thumb. They sat in silence like this for quite a time, enjoying the feeling of each other despite the looming problems that still need to be addressed.

“Steve?” Willie asks, her voice echoing through Steve’s chest. He hums lightly in response, craning his neck to watch her speak.

“If you could go back home, would you?” she asks, “If you could undo every bad thing that’s ever happened to you and just start over, would you?” Her voice is filled with distress and frustration.

He raises the elbow of the arm behind her head and begins to pet her wavy hair, “Like, go back to the war and not enlist?”

She hums and he sighs, “Of course not.” He feels her body tense as her brows furrow, “But why? Wouldn’t you like to go back and just be at home with all your friends? Don’t you just want to make all your problems disappear?”

Rubbing her arm with his thumb he leans into her, “If I never had enlisted and none of this ever happened, I’d have been some lonely skinny kid in Brooklyn. I probably would have died from TB or of an asthma attack in my studio apartment. I never would have been frozen and,” he places a gentle kiss to her hair before whispering, “I never would have met you, doll. All the trouble and pain in the world would be worth it for my best girl.”

There is a pause and just from the feeling of her stirring on his chest, Steve can tell Willie is trying not to cry. “I know you miss home, Willie. You say you don’t but you aren’t kidding me. Maybe I don’t quite understand how complicated your childhood was but I know just from the way your eyes light up, you miss being there.”

He wraps his free arm around her shoulders, “But no matter happens, I want you to know I’m here, honey. I’m not going anywhere.”

Without another word, Willie stretches up to Steve’s level, kissing him softly and thankfully. When they pull away, he looks into her teary eyes with pure adoration, “I love you.”

***

A few hours pass with Willie marching from tent to tent, checking to make sure everything was in order and answering any questions from her new citizens. Already, Steve can tell she is going to make a better leader than he could have ever imagined. Had someone told him three years ago his drunk girlfriend could do any of this, he would have laughed.

The daylight begins to dim and murmurs of hungry people can be heard from every direction. As Steve walks towards the fire once more to loiter, he hears an Asgardian child chant for his mother.

“Mother,” he calls, “There’s red people in the trees.”

This catches Steve’s attention and before he can even a breath to call for Willie, he sees her dashing past him to greet the said ‘red people’ at the entrance to the clearing.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Steve follows after her at a light jogging pace. Reaching the tree line to the east of camp, he is met by a group of strange looking people that can only be described as Gallifreyan.

Their skin is a medium red tan, like clay. Their hair is dark brown and with some wave in its texture. They wear their hair in varying styles, most of them revolving around braids of some sort. Many of the people, particularly the ones farther back from the front of the group, wear their hair braided tightly against the sides of their heads with the rest on top tied neatly at the back.

The clothing they wear varies as well. Most of their ensembles were simple, long red tunics with lacing down the sides, black and silver designs along the hem, and no shoes. Some wore straight legged pants of the same red color paired with either no shirt or an almost poncho looking drapery on their torsos.

However, the woman at the head of this gathering stands out amongst them. For starters, she is older. Steve wasn’t quite sure how old, but she looks to be in her forties or fifties. Her hair was in an intricate low updo on her back. It lay on her long draping robe with its large open sleeves and many more silver adornments than those of her followers. A long fabric belt cinched the robe at her waist; black with white symbols imbedded into it.

Looking briefly to Willie for comparison, it suddenly is clear to Steve just how much her people look like her. It’s all there in her face. From her narrow eyes, thick brows, long straight nose, and high cheekbones, it’s there. Other than the colors that make up her physique, she blends in perfectly with her native counterparts.

Willie speaks with the woman in her native tongue, words flying faster than Steve has ever heard her speak in his life. Typically, when she speaks, her words come out at a leisurely pace, slow and thought out. Watching her speak with this native practically makes Steve’s head spin.

It isn’t until Steve looks back to the woman that he realizes that everyone there has their eyes plastered to him. The woman, Willie, and the congregation in the woods all stare at him. Some of their looks are of confusion, but others are full of awe.

The woman, with her red hands folded neatly inside her sleeves, turns to Willie with a smile, muttering something to her while looking out the corner of her eye to Steve. After she finishes with Willie, she turns back to Steve and begins talking to him.

Not being able to comprehend a single word, Steve’s eyes widen ever so slightly in panic as he looks frantically to Willie for answers. Rubbing her face with her hand, she sighs, “She’s asking your name. Just point to yourself and say it, no need to confuse her.”

Doing what he’s told, Steve gestures to himself with both hands, “Steve Rogers.” The second he utters his name, the crowd gasps lightly, whispers doing their best to repeat it.

The woman grins brighter, looking to Willie once more before saying something. Steve stutters, “Wh-what’s she saying?” his insecurities he thought he left in the 40s coming back.

Remaining eye contact with the woman as she keeps speaking, Willie translates, “She’s saying that she’s never seen a man with white skin before,” there is a small pause as the woman speaks, “that you look like me,” another pause, “and that she didn’t know humans would be so intriguing.”

Steve furrows his brow, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rolling her eyes, Willie pushes Steve back, “I have no clue Steve, I was just repeating. Now get out of the way, The High Priestess doesn’t have all night.”

Backing him up against a tree, Willie rushes back to the woman, leading her by the arm into the camp. Her followers go after her, passing Steve on the way. They give him many looks as they walk past, each of them carrying enough food for ten people.

He manages to step away and meet everyone else in camp as they watch the Gallifreyans walk to the fire. A crowd has formed to watch the natives as they walk in, following Willie’s lead. The man Willie had come with, Sam Winchester, runs to meet them. From a distance, Steve can see them exchange words and Sam bends his top half slightly forward in a bow to the High Priestess. She nods her head with a smile and Willie cups her hands around her mouth to scream.

“Alright everyone,” she shouts, “This is how this is gonna work.” Grabbing Sam by the shoulders, she guides him in front of one of the Gallifreyans with food. A man wearing a red triangular poncho with black embellishments and fringe paired with red pants made of a similar material to buckskin stands ahead of him. The man holds a silver wooden bowl filled with some type of food.

Staring at Sam’s large build with awe, his mouth gapes open. Willie opens up to the crowd, showing Sam off, “You’re gonna get in a line. Then, when it’s your turn, you’re gonna walk up like this,” she pushes Sam a little closer, “and say these words, ‘G’dyejnah moschash.’” There is a small pause as she makes sure that the information is received before she continues, “‘G’dyejnah moschash.’ After you say that, you’re gonna bow.” She looks to Sam, who stands uncomfortably still. Willie reaches forward and smacks his arm, urging him to do as she said.

Mumbling the words Willie had instructed, he once again bends his front half forward slightly. The man with the bowl smiles, muttering the words back and hands Sam a piece from the contents of the container in his arm.

Willie drags Sam to the side and replaces him, “Line starts here.”

In that instant, Steve is swarmed by the hungry crowd rushing to get in line. When he fully comprehends what is going on, he follows in line with them, standing about three people behind Tony Stark.

The line slowly creeps forward, the setting suns making the heat slightly less intense. Looking down, Steve sees that every person standing in the line with them is covered in red dust from the knee down. Peering around the line, he can see Willie at the front. She herself is coated from the waist down, completely submerged in her home, both figuratively and literally.

Once at the front, Steve walks up to a young woman with her own bowl, the High Priestess and Willie watching intently just off her shoulder. He nervously steps up, catching a side glance at Willie. She stands erect, arms folded behind her back; a sharp contrast to the High Priestess, with her arms folded in front.

He takes another cautious step, the woman smiling lightly while she clutches her silver bowl. Doing his best to recall the proper words, he stutters, “G-g’degnuh moe-shush.” He stands still for a moment before bowing suddenly, almost forgetting to do so. The young woman smiles and hands him something. He walks away, going to join the congregation forming at the fire.

Steve looks down at the item in his hands. It was a golden colored bread wrap of sorts, and upon further inspection, it seems to contain a thin sliver of meat and a collection of red leaves within it. It seems strange but the rumble in Steve’s stomach told him not to question it.

He begins making his way to the fire to sit, being met with Bruce Banner wave a hand to him and shouting his name, “Steve, come sit with us!” Not wanting to decline the offer and seem, he walks to Bruce. He sits with Thor, Tony, Pepper, and Natasha.

“Pop a squat with me big fella,” Natasha says syly. Steve forces a grin and sits cross legged in the dust beside her. “Rough night, huh?” she chuckles.

“The first of many I’m afraid,” Thor answers, holding his half eaten bread wrap. Tony groans, “If this gets any worse, I’m gonna say something to Willie. I mean, what is she doing having us out here in tents?”

“She’s doing her best, Tony, let her be,” defends Steve.

The billionaire scoffs, “That’s rich coming from you, Rogers. You’d stick your neck out for that drunk if it was the last thing you did. Just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean-”

Steve interrupts him, his voice blank and devoid of all emotion, “We aren’t together anymore.”

**TAG LIST**

@youralienfriend @fandoms-4-life0000 @groovy-bouquet-starlight@animeaniseed @okie–loki @tara-jadet1ffen

(Comment if you want to be added to the tag list)

#steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #loki x reader #thor x reader #avengers inifinity war #avengers x reader #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #doctor who #superwho #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #guardians of the galaxy #bruce x reader

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theroyalweisme · 6 years

Text

Duties of a Prince - Chapter 22 - Leo x Liam x MC

A little AU of what would have happened at Leo’s fling before the social season to determine his bride kicks off.

Rating: For mature audiences… language and themes as the story continues.

A/N - I’m BACK!!! And I’m catching up on my writing! My plan is to go back to twice a week chapters. As long as I can keep up.

(A RoE and TRR Crossover)

Summary:

Two brothers who couldn’t be more different if they tried. One out to be the life of the party. The other understanding both of they’re roles and determined to fulfill them all. But what happens when they fall for the same girl?

MASTER CHAPTER LIST

Tagging: @youwontlikewherewewillgo @chrstbll @pens-girl-87 @xxrainbowprincessxx @queencatherynerhys @syltti78 @boneandfur @ranishajay @blackcatkita @bobasheebaby @pbchoicesobsessed @umccall71 @hamulau @drakelover78 @crookedslimecreatorpasta @jlouise88 @furiousherringoperatortoad @darley1101

Permatags: @mfackenthal @shirtlessbenpark @enmchoices @alwaysthebestchoice @writtenbycandy @diamond-dreamland

Constantine paced between his two sons, both with their heads bowed in shame.

“Of all the stupid, idiotic things you two have done over the years… this one takes the cake,” he seethed stopping in front of his eldest son. “You! You are the Crown Prince of Cordonia, Leo! Start acting like it! And where on earth did you get the idea to hand out roses to all of your suitors?”

“It’s in an American television show, Father,” Leo mistakenly grinned at the older man.

“A television show...” Constantine nodded thoughtfully before turning on his son in a fit of rage. “A television show?! You lowered yourself because of a television show?!”

“I thought it’d be funny,” Leo muttered under his breath. “Maybe make a girl or two smile.”

“Fucking hilarious...” Liam rolled his eyes at his older brother, gaining the sharp gaze of his father.

“And you,” he pointed at his youngest child. “Screaming at your brother, in the middle of a packed room! You are supposed to set an example, Liam. Be better than your emotions. Prove to people that you are above the antics that surround you in court! Have I taught you nothing?!”

“No, Father…” Liam’s head hung in shame as Constantine began to pace again.

“I will speak to the noble families here. I will ensure, Leo, that your slight is explained to them properly. And you will ensure that this does not happen again.” Constantine’s eyes narrowed at his eldest sharply, earning a nod from the son. “And you.”

He turned sharply to his youngest son. Liam straightened, awaiting his punishment.

“You will be attending a conference with the European Union in Switzerland for 5 days. You are not to have contact with anyone, except myself, while you are there,” he held up a finger as the young man began to protest. “Consider your free time a chance for self-reflection.”

“But, Father,” Liam started as Constantine’s eyes burrowed into him. “Yes, Father…”

Both boys sighed deeply as Constantine straightened his jacket.

“Consider this a lesson to you both,” he stated, looking back to the ballroom door. “You are the Princes of Cordonia. You need to approach every day with this knowledge and put yourselves forward as such.”

“Yes, Father…” Both boys muttered under the breaths as Constantine headed back towards the ballroom.

As soon as he was out of sight Liam turned to his brother, eyes narrowed.

“Just leave Sabrina alone, Leo,” he demanded, starting in the same direction that their father just left. Not giving the older man a chance to respond. “She doesn’t need your bullshit while I’m away.”

“Can you imagine,” Sabrina pushed herself tighter to the wall, listening to the women a few steps away from her. “Both princes fawning over her.”

“Well… I’m not too sure about that, Priscella…” the other woman tittered. “From what I hear, Prince Liam has been spending an awful lot of his time with Duchess Olivia.”

Sabrina’s heart sank as the thought that Liam could be spending his long hours away from her with another woman. He wouldn’t do that… she mused silently. Would he?

Hearing enough of Priscella and her friend, she pushed herself from the wall and started towards the doors. Her hand found her chest as she pulled long deep breaths into her lungs.

After a few deep breaths, she pulled herself up, flattening her dress against her body. An unsettled feeling sat in the pit of her stomach as she glanced around her, a spot of red caught her attention off to one side.

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the tight coif on the top of Olivia’s head, her face tipped up adoringly towards Liam’s.

Sabrina could feel the tears prickle behind her eyes at what she was watching as Olivia softly brushed lint off of Liam’s lapel before speaking softly to him.

She straightened her back once more, wiping her eyes at the tears that had yet to fall. Purposefully she strode past the duo curled together.

“Sabrina,” Liam called as she brushed passed him. “Wait, we need to talk.”

She ignored him completely as she continued towards her room.

—

“Sabrina,” Liam sighed, catching her door before she had a chance to slam it shut. “Sabrina, talk to me!”

Killer’s head swung between her owner and her second favourite person on the planet, right now, as Sabrina refused to turn towards the man towering in her doorway.

“Why, Liam?” She sighed, silent tears dripping down her cheeks. “So you can run back to Olivia? I’m sure you have another ‘meeting’ to attend.”

Liam jerked back in shock at her words. Did she honestly think he was simply spending his time away from her with Olivia?

“No!” He cried out, stepping deeper into the room. Killer moved quickly to stand between the two humans. She may not have known what the exact problem was... but her lady human was sad and she was pretty sure the tall man, with skinny legs, was the cause. “Killer, move.”

Liam’s words were harsh as he directed the dog out of his way. Those simple two words were like a lightning bolt through Sabrina as she turned on him. Her mascara had started to streak, leaving two soft black lines trailing down her cheeks.

“Leave. Her. Alone.” The words escaped her clenched jaw as she took a step towards him. “You are in my room, Liam. Maybe you should keep that in mind.”

“You’re here on my word, Sabrina,” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. “Perhaps you should keep that in mind.”

It was as if the air was completely sucked out of the room as she stared at him wide-eyed for a solid three minutes, not a word uttered between them. Liam’s own eyes widened in complete shock as the words he had just spoken clues into him.

“Sabrina... I... I didn’t mean...” he stumbled over himself as he tried to pull the hurtful words back.

“Get out.” She growled, her eyes narrowing. Killer move closer to her owner as her hackles raised, providing a low growl of her own.

“B-but... I didn’t... I mean... that wasn’t...” he threw his hands up in frustration as he tried to find the words to explain his thoughts. Sabrina turned away from him again, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

“I can’t do this anymore, Liam...” she roughly wiped at her cheeks with her fingers, the mascara smudging even more in the effort. “You’re never here... I’m constantly on my own. I’m just done.”

Liam’s face played through his emotions in a matter of seconds... sadness, hurt, disappointment and finally anger. His brow furrowed as he replayed her words in his head.

“Do you honestly think this has been easy on me?” He demanded, stepping towards her and earning a louder growl from the dog at her feet. “Do you think I want to be leaving you? To have to run out on you at the drop of a hat? That I leave you with him!?”

“You mean Leo?” Sabrina laughed, bitterly. “Liam, the only thing happening between you and your brother is a mutual fascination with bad American television. But at least he’s always been there for me.”

“Because he does nothing but shirks his actual responsibilities!” He raged, pulling at his hair in frustration. “Do you not realize that Leo is the reason I have to leave you all the time? That he is the reason I have to go to fucking Switzerland?!”

“That’s not my issue, Liam!” She screamed back at him, her clenched fists hit her thighs hard enough to leave bruises. “I just want to go home.”

“Then maybe you fucking should,” he spat at her. “I will have a car take you back to pack and tickets back to New York provided to you.”

“I appreciate the car, your highness,” she curtsied towards him. “But I will arrange my own travel arrangements to New York.”

“Fine.” He nodded, turning on his heel and heading for the door. He paused for a moment at the door, barely glancing over his shoulder. “Safe journeys, Sabrina.”

“Thank you,” she whispered to an empty room, waiting for the click of the door closing before collapsing on the ground, pulling Killer into herself and crying into the dog’s soft fur.

#choices stories you play #choices the royal romance #choices: the royal romance #choices: stories you play fanfics #choices: the royal romance fanfics #choices: stories you play #trr #roe #liam x mc #leo x mc #brothers rys #princes #dont hate me #oops #imma be over here hiding

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dangan-ronpa-v3-imagines-blog · 7 years

Photo

I guess I’m the despair disease mod now. There’s just a lot of potential for fun ideas in these asks.

~Mod Harumaki

Tenko Chabashira (Senpai Disease)

-From what you could tell, she was acting no different, treating each of the girls the same as usual.

-The “male degenerates” walk in and you expect more of the same, but no, life isn’t that simple, and you’re not that lucky.

-She begins to fawn all over ever single boys she sees, giving extremely detailed descriptions as to why she loves each of them.

-”-And Korekiyo is so pretty and Kokichi is so cute and Kaito is so manly and Rantaro is so smooth and I just...love all of them?!?!? Like, I just want them all the time???”

-Our followers agree Tenko. So many boys’ asks.

-She ends up gushing about them to you almost non-stop, but she ends up a blushing and nervous wreck every time any of them try to talk to her.

-It gets old pretty quickly, mostly because you wish she would keep her eyes on you. Senpai needs to stop noticing her senpai and notice you instead

Kirumi Tojo (Clumsy Disease)

-She has become the maid stereotype.

-The cutesy and “uwu master I’m sorry~” maid that should probably look into other employment.

-In all seriousness, it’s a little bit endearing.

-But then you remember this is Kirumi and it suddenly feels very wrong.

-It’s cute for all of three seconds until you get an overwhelming sense of awkwardness when she drops some plates and looks at you with tears in her eyes.

-Oh God. She looks so sad. You can’t do this.

-You gently try to comfort her and tell her how amazing she is and that she shouldn’t worry because she’s doing her best.

-The moe is too much.

Miu Iruma (Shy Disease)

-When she skips breakfast you get worried, so you go to her room to check on her.

-You knock on her door and she doesn’t respond, but realize it’s unlocked and go in anyways.

-”Ah! S/O! Don’t come in...”

-She’s just sitting on her bed hugging her pillow staring at you with innocent and downcast eyes.

-She confesses that she’s too scared to go outside because of all the eyes that will be on her.

-You ask her what you can do to convince her to leave her room.

-She immediately latches on to you and makes you walk her around everywhere without letting go of her iron grip on your hand, and you end up having to play interpreter because no one understands her nervous and broken stuttering.

Himiko Yumeno (Hyperactive Disease)

-You wake up to a broken doorknob and a loli jumping up and down on your chest

-”Nyaa~. Wake up S/O! We have stuff to do!”

-She drags you out of your room before you even have enough time to wipe away the tiredness

-She’s running up and down the halls, excitedly talking to anyone who passes by and being interested in literally everything that crosses her path

-It’s nice to see her so full of life, regardless of the unfortunate circumstances

-She pulls all sorts of innocent pranks, like hugging you out of nowhere and covering you in whip cream when you look away from her for even a second

-It’s cute, but you did not enter this relationship expecting her to ever be this high-maintenance

Maki Harukawa (Caretaking Disease)

-Ultimate Caretaker she may be, you really weren’t expecting this

-She starts off the day by giving you a welcoming hug as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Then she makes you breakfast and proceeds to gush over you the entire morning

-She goes on nonstop about how much she loves you and how proud of you she is- even though you have no idea what she’s talking about

-She follows you around all day and tells off anyone she thinks is being mean to you (ie looking at you funny)

-She’s constantly monitoring your health and mood to make sure you’re feeling alright

-Now she’s nuzzling you. Ok

-This isn’t...bad? You’re just very confused and you feel like she’s gonna be pissed when she gets better

-At who? You’re afraid of that as well

Angie Yonaga (Hentai Disease)

-She’s always prided herself on being Atua’s vessel, and it’s obvious that she does her best to glorify him.

-You have no problem modeling for her when she asks for your help for her next piece.

-With the despair disease going around, you’re just glad she’s trying to keep a sense of normalcy.

-And then you see the art.

-That’s you but...why aren’t you wearing any clothes? You were wearing clothes when she drew it!

-And how does she know about all your birthmarks?! She’s never seen those!

-She doesn’t see anything wrong with it and innocently asks you for your opinion.

-It’s totally fine.

Tsumugi Shirogane (Normie Disease)

-You realize something is wrong the moment you begin to get more references than you usually do.

-Like, you love her, you really do, but she is into some underground shit.

-But then you realize that she has shit tastes and you can’t forgive Monokuma for this transgression.

-He has broken her beyond repair. She would die before uttering half the words coming out of her mouth.

-She has the most basic and boring tastes imaginable omitted to prevent flame wars and talking to her is painful.

-She is the embodiment of every bad fan you can think of.

-Still, you have to put up with her.

-The things you do for love

Kaede Akamatsu (Emo Disease)

-Hi my name is Kaede Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony blonde hair (that's how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy pink eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don't know who she is get da hell out of here!). I'm not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he's a major fucking hottie. I'm a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I'm also a musician, and I go to a gifted school called Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles where I'm in the seventh year (I'm seventeen). I'm a goth (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hopes Peak. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. Saihara stared at me. I put up my middle finger at him.

Sorry about Kaede. Blame Mod Rantaro. I wanted to be serious, but I’m tired

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 #ndrv3 girls #ndrv3 imagines #kaede akamatsu #maki harukawa #tenko chabashira #angie yonaga #kirumi tojo #miu iruma #tsumugi shirogane #himiko yumeno #mod harumaki

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kootenaygoon · 4 years

Photo

So,

Niles was on crutches, watering his garden.

It was late Tuesday afternoon, and we’d just put the Wednesday edition of the Star to bed. Despite the fact it was mid-October, the weather was still summery, with a light wind rustling its way up the valley. The Slocan River had a magical sheen in the distance as my RAV broke out of the trees. Brutus was running laps of the yard with a dog I didn’t recognize, too busy to bark at my arrival, so I followed the driveway around to the barn unmolested and parked beside a mud-spattered, half-deconstructed Jeep. Niles had invited me over to discuss his latest manuscript submission, which was over 100,000 words long. It sat hefty and dog-eared on my passenger seat, riddled with highlighter and scribbled notes, alongside a six-pack of Blue Buck. I wasn’t looking forward to this feedback session, because I wasn’t sure if he was mature enough to hear what I had to say.

“We’ve got the house to ourselves tonight, Goon. I’ve got the second season of Fargo queued up, plus I’ve acquired some fabulous Afghani Kush that will blow your hair back,” Niles said, his crutches squelching in the mud as he clopped over to my side door.

I lifted up his manuscript, which was called The Fox and the Fawn. “Did you forget about this?”

Since my arrival in Nelson I’d been keeping a small roster of three to five students, helping them develop everything from a fictional account of the Rwandan genocide to a fantasy novel about an autistic teen adventuring through an alternate dimension. The trouble was, I was starting to feel like an imposter. My repeated attempts at finishing Whatever you’re on, I want some hadn’t resulted in the fame and glory I was imagining, and now I was wondering if I’d been kidding myself this whole time. Yeah, I had my Master’s, but so what? Could I really be a writer? And if not, was I really worthy of being a teacher? Who was I kidding?

“I figured you would’ve burned that thing the moment you realized what a gargantuan turd it is,” Niles said, his blond hair hanging limply around his dishevelled face. He wasn’t looking healthy.

I climbed out and shut the door. “I read some of it to my new roommate Mika, actually. We had a little reading in my living room.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yeah, she wanted to hear the sex scene.”

Niles roared with delight. That’s what he was always looking for, an audience to the lewd reality of his existence. As far as he was concerned, he was the best kind of criminal — the kind that never gets caught. The Fox and the Fawn was a fangirl tribute to himself, to his gangster exploits as a Slocan Valley weed king. With legalization finally here, he felt it was time to tell his story. The manuscript was Bukowski mixed with Kerouac, demented and perverse and shockingly violent. At one point he even casually admits to date rape, including a scene where his girlfriend rages at him for taking advantage of her while he was drunk.

“I didn’t know you had a new roommate,” he said. “What happened to Brendan?”

“Nothing. I just found a new place, levelled up. Teamed up with this girl Mika who works at my pot dispensary. She’s got a pet rabbit.”

“You’re still getting your shit from there? Why aren’t you coming to me?”

Niles was wearing a brown bathrobe. He opened his front door, told me not to worry about my shoes, then handed me the crutches while he hopped on one foot up the carpeted staircase. He grunted and sighed with each step, muttering swear words under his breath. I’d never seen him like this. When we reached the top I gave him his crutches and the beer, and he motioned for me to take a seat in the living room. As I passed by the familiar John Cooper paintings, I noticed that he’d hung the self-portrait I’d given him as a present a month earlier. I’d painted it with Natalya.

��You hung my painting upside down?”

He laughed, opening the fridge. “Yeah, I dunno why I did that. Just seemed to me like it looks better that way. I get a kick out of it.”

I shook my head. For the past month I’d been painting furiously, and it felt like a swirling green portal had opened up inside my brain. My writing may have stalled, but this was a way to channel my creativity into something other than journalism. I was getting sick of the Star, getting sick of taking the same pictures of the same fundraiser events, getting sick of the constraints. My relationship with Ed and Kai was strained too, as they were tired of my entitled laziness. Maybe they knew I was stoned every day, slumping into the office uninspired and half-assing my stories. I felt like the universe was wasting me, but painting had become a soothing therapy, something I did exclusively for myself. I was giving myself permission to be sloppy and flamboyant and outrageous, slathering my canvases with dribbling glitter and chaotic streaks of inspiration. This painting I’d given Niles was my first.

As he banged around in the kitchen, I walked over to the living room window and looked out at the Slocan Valley. The trees were the colour of flames, red and orange and electric yellow, and they matched the darkening sky. Lately I’d been feeling a subtle dread, like the magic was slowly draining from my surroundings. Winter is coming. I hated being single, hated being a chronic stoner, and hated how much of my life I spent stressing out about money. In university I’d become so convinced that I had life sorted out, that I was on a consistently upwards trajectory, that it was only a matter of time before I would be rewarded with creative success and lifelong fulfillment. Now I wasn’t so sure. It was easy to blame Paisley and all the drama she’d brought to my life, but she’d been gone for over a year now. At some point I would have to address my own shit without using her as a scapegoat.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, man.”

Niles scuffed back into the living room holding our beers. “This?”

“The Kootenays. The Star. I got into a bit of a scrap with Kai and Ed today, in the newsroom,” I said. “Over our coverage of Me Too.”

He laughed, sinking into his recliner. “You’re too radical for them?”

I shook my head, crossed to the couch. “I’ve just been seeing all these posts, right? Women sharing their trauma, men self-flagellating, but the discourse isn’t actually going anywhere. It’s not actually accomplishing anything. But I wanted to do something tangible, so I interviewed the superintendent and a bunch of principals about how they’re responding to it. Just to get it official, on the record, how they plan to change things.”

He snorted. “I’m sure they loved that.”

“So I hand in this 1200-word behemoth of a story, with all these different angles and perspectives, and they told me it didn’t have any teeth. They said it’s just a bunch of talking heads. I tried to argue, you know, that it’s important to be holding these people accountable and that their words are powerful, but they weren’t hearing it. They said if I’m going to write a story about sexual assault then I need a real sexual assault.”

He frowned, shrugged. “So what’re you going to do?”

I felt myself getting worked up. For the past few days I’d been endlessly scrolling through Twitter and Facebook, feeding on the outrage and vitriol. It was bringing everything up, Trent and Galloway and my strange obsession with crucifixion. The topic of sexual violence was like an intricate bomb I was trying to defuse with nothing but a screwdriver. As far as I was concerned, the conversation had to move beyond the rage to solutions. Men had to own their complicity, with more than just empty words, and propose tangible solutions. I was determined to prove Kai and Ed wrong, to show that my journalism had real teeth.

“Well, I’ve already started writing a column about it. About my personal feelings on the subject. And I’m going to illustrate it with a picture of my face with the words ‘Part of the Problem’ scrawled across my forehead.”

Niles laughed. “That should piss off the right people.”

“Not only that, I’ve found two girls who are willing to go on record about their assaults. One who was a student at Elephant Mountain Secondary, and the other from Selkirk College. If I do this right, this could be the most powerful story I’ve written since coming to the Star. Like, I think it could be a really big deal.”

“Well, Goon,” he said. “I think your saviour complex is alive and kicking.”

Eventually we pivoted to discussing his manuscript, and I flipped through it on the coffee table as I took him through my notes. All of his female characters came off as interchangeable, he had a tendency to summarize scenes rather than depict them, and by the end of the narrative he came off as completely unlikeable. Being self-deprecating is one thing, but it was like he was going out of his way to shock the reader with his shitty behaviour. It felt like he was daring his audience to hate him. At times it reminded me of the memoir A Crowbar in the Buddhist Garden, by Stephen Reid, so I recommended he check it out for inspiration. I felt Reid struck a fine balance between owning his mistakes and aspiring to be a better human being.

“That’s the bank robber?”

“Yeah, they made a movie about him. Point Break.”

“That surfer movie with Keanu Reeves?”

“I think they fictionalized it a bit. The point is, there’s a guy who has actually grappled with his own soul. That takes balls.”

He nodded. “A Crowbar in the Buddhist Garden. I like that.”

Once we were finished with notes, Niles padded off into his bedroom and returned with an elaborate dragon-themed bong. As we smoked together I thought of the caterpillar from the animated version of Alice in Wonderland, asking in his condescending tone “Who are you?” That was the sort of question that was getting harder to answer all the time. Thinking about rape culture all day had me hating myself to the point where I felt physically sick, but at other times I was convinced of my own prophethood, my special destiny to save the world somehow. If I could tackle this Me Too story from exactly the right angle I knew it could have a legit impact. Everyone was encouraging women to speak while men listen, but I had been listening. And now I had something to say. I leaned back in the couch and examined the light fixture in the ceiling, composing my column in my head.

“Here,” Niles said. “You want another hit?”

The Kootenay Goon

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littlev1234 · 7 years

Text

Repose

Fandom: Bravely Default

Pairing: Tiz/Agnes/Yew, mentions of Ringabel/Edea

Warnings: None

Words: 1,509

Summary: “Their dates often went like this: hanging out in a peaceful place and enjoying each other’s presences. Compared to their friends, the trio preferred simpler pastimes and subtler romantic gestures. She relished every second of it, and she knew Tiz and Yew did, too.”

Also known as Fluffy Cliches Featuring Hot Mechanic Tiz, Beautiful Contented Agnes, and Adorable Nerdy Yew.

Notes: Modern AU. Late submission for Day 7/free prompt of Bravely Ship Week.

AO3 Version: Repose

A bead of sweat slid down Tiz’s temple and reached his cheek before he swiped it off with the back of his hand. Due to the grease splotches staining his hands, the movement left a streak of black. Oblivious, he leaned down to continue working under the car’s hood.

Being the only one still at his father’s mechanic shop, the metallic clinking of his fingers skillfully moving parts and the drone of the pitiful fan standing in the corner filled his ears. The fan had no chance of standing up to today’s humid heat. Tiz carried on, checking a gauge before screwing a plastic cap back in place.

Some may believe such backbreaking work was unappealing and tedious. He, however, found it satisfying in its simplicity. Find the problem, fix it, and send the vehicle on its way.

Two pairs of light footsteps entering the garage caught his attention. After he finished tightening a washer, he stepped back and closed the hood. “Sorry. I wasn’t watching the time,” he apologized.

“It’s all right,” Agnes reassured. While her long bangs remained swept to the side across her forehead, the rest of her thick brown hair sat in a neat bun at the back of her head. An off-white short-sleeved dress with brown accents complimented her lithe frame.

“We’re not in a hurry,” Yew agreed, absentmindedly adjusting his messenger bag. He, too, had dressed more appropriately for the weather with shorts and a T-shirt with the Al-Khampis school logo scrawled across the chest.

Tiz smiled to himself. They looked comfortable and stunning, and here he was with ruffled hair and an old tank top.

“Let me take a shower before we go,” he said. Walking over to a nearby table, he set down his tools and grabbed the half-full bottle of water he placed there a couple hours ago. After pushing his bangs out of his eyes—he really needed a haircut—he uncapped it and took a few long gulps. Sweat glistened on his skin, from his jawline to the lean muscles of his arms, and the damp tank clung to his torso.

When he finished soothing his dry throat he tossed the empty bottle into a nearby trash can. He turned back to the others only to see that their faces had suddenly turned bright red. “...are you two okay?”

“W-we’re fine!” Yew insisted, voice a tad higher-pitched than normal and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. The deep red hue coloring his face matched that of Agnes’, who nodded quickly in agreement.

“If you’re sure…” Tiz shrugged. “You can wait on the couch until I’m done.”

“Okay,” Anges squeaked.

Sending them another odd look, Tiz opened the door to his father’s house and stepped inside.

The second he was out of earshot, Yew and Agnes turned to each other with equal muffled excitement.

“That was just like out of a movie…!” Yew exclaimed.

“We were truly blessed to have that moment.” Though more sedated in her reverence, Agnes had clasped her hands together.

They continued to fawn over Tiz’s handsomeness as they headed inside and sat down on the couch. Since no one else appeared to be in the house, they assumed Tiz’s father and little brother weren’t at home.

Yew reached into his bag and pulled out a worn book. “The campus library was giving away books no one reads any more, and I thought you might like this one.”

She accepted the thick book and examined the cover. On the green cover read the title Sweets Around the World.

“Oh my,” Agnes breathed as she flipped through a few pages. She spotted pictures of mouthwatering desserts along with text explaining the foods’ history and making. Closing it before she temped herself into making one in that instant, she leaned over and pecked his cheek. “Thank you, Yew.”

Yew smiled shyly. “You’re welcome. While I was there I also saw a book that I thought would be perfect for Edea, but I decided not to get it.”

“What was it?”

“How to Keep Your Cool When Your Boyfriend is a Ladies’ Man.”

They both gave a small laugh.

“I had a feeling she’d throw the book at me or Ringabel if I gave it to her,” Yew explained.

“You made the safe choice,” Agnes agreed lightheartedly.

Tiz returned a few minutes later. Wearing faded jeans and a solid blue shirt, he attempted to tame his long bangs for a moment before giving up. “Ready to go?”

They unanimously decided Tiz would drive—Agnes had an abysmal sense of direction, and Yew tended to drive far more carefully than necessary. After a five minutes they reached their favorite coffee shop and headed inside.

“Bonjour!” Magnolia greeted as she untied her work apron and handed it to a fellow employee. “I didn’t know you three were coming here today.”

“We didn’t decide on it until this morning,” Tiz explained.

Magnolia’s gaze flicked between them, and then she shot them a teasing wink. “On a coffee date, are we?” She released a dreamy sigh. “You’re all so mignon! It was worth the nightmare of setting you ‘blockheads’ up together, as Edea would put it.”

“We would have figured it out eventually,” Yew said, though his uncertain tone revealed otherwise.

“Where are you going now?” Agnes asked.

“I’m going home to freshen up. Janne and I are heading to a club tonight. You’re welcome to join.”

Yew glanced at Tiz and Anges before shaking his head. “No thanks. We plan on hanging out at Agnes’ house tonight.” None of them were huge fans of parties anyway.

“All right. A bientôt!” She waved farewell and left the café.

“I’ll put in our orders,” Tiz offered.

“We’ll find a seat then,” Agnes suggested.

They found a table small table near a window. As they sat down, Agnes’ phone pinged. She pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen.

“It’s Edea.”

“Isn’t she at the carnival with Ringabel?”

“Yes. She just told me that she let him hold her hand on the roller coaster, and he practically crushed it.”

“I can’t blame him.” Yew shuddered. “Roller coasters, my one fear.”

Agnes shook her head with a fond smile. Yesterday his “one fear” was ghosts, and last week it was “accidentally eating moldy pudding.”

“They said it’ll be ready in a minute,” Tiz announced. Approaching their table, he purposefully brushed his hand across Yew’s back while walking to his own seat. “What are you talking about?”

Their conversation resumed until their orders were ready. Agnes walked to the counter, picked the drinks up with a polite thank you, and returned to the table. She handed a packet of creamer to Tiz, who had a plain black coffee.

Yew swirled the straw in his caramel frappuccino before taking a long sip. Across from him Agnes raised her iced sweet chai latte to her lips, and when she placed it back on the table a spot of foam remained on the corner of her mouth.

Tiz and Yew exchanged amused grins.

“Agnes…you have something on your lip,” Yew informed.

She swiped her tongue across her mouth. “Did I get it?”

“No,” Tiz said. After she tried again and failed, he reached over and swiped it off with his thumb. “Got it.”

“Th-thank you.”

They stayed at the café for well over an hour, idly chatting long after they had finished their drinks. After leaving a tip in the jar at the counter, the trio eventually started for Agnes’ house.

Tiz stifled a yawn as he parked his car in her driveway.

“Tired?” Yew asked.

“A little,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to stay up,” Agnes reminded.

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I don’t have to work tomorrow anyway.”

Upon entering the quaint home Agnes turned on the television. She then settled in the middle of the couch, and Tiz sat down beside her. Yew took his preferred position; lying down on her other side with his head in her lap. The fact that his feet hung off the edge didn’t bother him. While Agnes found a mindless romance movie they had already seen before, the youngest pulled out a book and opened it to the bookmarked page.

Halfway through the movie Tiz’s head lightly fell against Agnes’, indicating he had fallen asleep. With a soft, affectionate smile she looked down to see Yew also snoozing quietly. His book lay face down on his stomach.

Their dates often went like this: hanging out in a peaceful place and enjoying each other’s presences. Compared to their friends, the trio preferred simpler pastimes and subtler romantic gestures. She relished every second of it, and she knew Tiz and Yew did, too.

She turned off the television and carefully placed the remote beside Yew. She didn’t have the heart to wake them up, and sleepiness was beginning to tug at her eyelids as well. Relaxing against the couch, she fell asleep to the warm weight of Yew’s head in her lap and the sound of Tiz’s soft breathing.

#bravelyshipweek #tiz arrior #agnes oblige #yew geneolgia #bravely default #magnolia arch #my fics #fanfic

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gigiree · 7 years

Text

Confession rehearsal

A/n: in which Marinette lies to Adrien, daily

The sounds of the city have become a muted thing, all she can hear is the rushing of her heartbeat, a crazy lub dub that fills her sight with stars.

Or maybe that’s just because she’s forgetting to breathe again.

Even the buffeting wind that encircles them is oddly quiet, a blessedly cold caress against her flushed cheeks.

But he’s here. His eyes are wide and curious and the prettiest shade of green. Almost exactly the color of sunlight drifting through leaves.

And she’ll lose her focus if she thinks anymore, because in stark contrast to his eyes, his smile is comforting. It’s a soft, little thing of warmth and encouragement.

Her reality cements itself again when Chat Noir gives her the most earnest thumbs up, the material of his suit is so blatantly loud as he shifts awkwardly.

She gathers up all the courage settled into her dots, the thing that’s decidedly a part of Ladybug and not Marinette.

Her cheeks burn and the words fall out with a vague rush of relief. She shuts her eyes, lets her dry lips stretch and contort to shape what she needs to say.

“Sorry, I know it’s really sudden and all…but I…I really, really like you. For a long time…a-actually…oh god.”

Her eyes are still screwed shut, and this time the stars she sees are from that rather than lack of air. She wonders if she can make a wish on these ones, considering Paris is too bright to ever see real ones.

His soft laughter causes that same familiar pain to lance through her, she wrings her hands in agitation and irritation mixed with all her affection tinges her words.

“You promised you wouldn’t laugh.” She chides, closing the distance between them, and with a strangely Herculean effort, punches him casually on the shoulder.

He chuckles a bit more, rubbing at his arm.

“I’m not…not at you…not exactly, Ladybug. It’s just you always close your eyes. It looks really painful. But at least you didn’t call him ‘beautiful boy’ this time around.”

He seems to notice her underlying discomfort and thinks she’s genuinely still worried about this night’s rehearsal. He takes it in the way she wants him to.

(And in the way she really doesn’t.)

And like always, he makes her confidence a priority. His encouragement is the farthest thing from false.

(Even if it hurts…oh so much…that she’s practicing these confessions for some other person.)

He places his hands on her small shoulders, his smile is that a little more mellow, a whole lot more sweet as he looks down at her.

He thinks that she should really keep her eyes open during her confession. Because they’re such a starkly bluebell blue, that he thinks, no matter who she confesses to with those shining bright eyes, they’ll say yes.

He would in a heartbeat. Or less.

But her feelings aren’t for him. There for some mystery person. Someone who makes her stutter and devolve back into the adorable politeness that was his classmate…

“Marinette…you should really have more faith in yourself. Honestly, you’re ready. You’ve been ready to make that confession for a while now. I don’t think we need to practice every day now.”

She vehemently shakes her head, and her eyes are narrowed in dogged refusal to listen to him.

“I need more time. Maybe on…Christmas of next year.”

“You really…really need to see that you’re already there, Marinette…and that’s like,” He takes a moment to tally up the time, before humming in frustration. “That’s twenty months away. You can’t keep putting this off.”

But there’s this sick twisted part of him that wants her to feel just a little unsure. That wants her to keep fake confessing to him…just so he can pretend for a few more nights that the girl he loves, loves him too.

Still, her uncertainty runs deep. It seems to be a part of her own bones, lacing through her just as surely as her kindness does.

He can’t promise that the object of her affections will return her feelings…but he can promise her that she’ll be fine if they don’t. After all, he’s currently an expert on an unrequited love. Except she’s got a lot more gumption that he does and she’s been practicing.

She’s still shaking her head, although a bit dizzy by now and he sees the edge of mischief curling her lips.

He moves his hands to cradle her cheeks, thumbs laid just over the edge of her mask. It takes effort not to move his fingers, not to trace the planes of her precious face.

But he does it, and she’s still trying to shake her head in jest, straining gently against his careful hold.

“You’re the worst bobble head ever.” He snorts, and tries to catch her gaze with earnest joy. “But no matter what you want to do, you’ll be great. You can mess up. It’s totally fine. Whatever happens, it wasn’t you. That person just wasn’t…the right one at that time.”

She stops shaking her head long enough to catch the seriousness of his tone, and he has to look away before those pretty blues drown him in curiosity.

Because under no circumstances will he allow their friendship to be ruined because he couldn’t control his emotions.

His hands fall away quickly from her, fiddling with the trailing end of his tail as he finishes his point.

“You’ve…you got this, Marinette.” He says gently, and even beyond her Ladybug suit, he sees the way his encouragement helps. The way she stands a little bit taller. The way the energy of her hope seems to make even her ribbons perk up a bit.

“Thanks…Adrien. It really…it really means a lot. I’m so happy.” She answers back…and somehow she doesn’t sound entirely truthful.

She doesn’t sound happy, but Chat decides to attribute that to lingering uncertainty.

(And for once, she wishes her cat was more observant.)

But the night devolves into a gentle, easy conversation. Ending with him scribbling down the answers to the physics homework for her with a half hearted complaint.

“These only cover your butt for the homework. You’re actually going to have to learn the concepts for the test.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“So what if I take the path of least resistance?” She remarks, picking her away from around the chimney stack and beginning to swing her yoyo to begin her journey home.

“Did you just make a joke about circuits? Ohm my god….” He deadpans, his grin turning into one that is absolutely shit-eating.

She laughs sweetly, and waves at him over her shoulder…eager to leave before he catches the harsh beating of her heart.

(And he watches her arc through the sky, a streak of red luck breaking through the winter haze with his heart in his throat. His fingers still tremble, regretting everything.) —

She knows she’s being entirely selfish.

She knows she’s being entirely stupid.

But there was a culmination of circumstances that had lead to her current conundrum

And that word happened to start with a C too. Chat Noir..who was Adrien Agreste…who as Chat Noir..

The reveal is inconsequential. How it happened is anticlimactic at best and underwhelming at worst.

She had pieced it together before him. It had been an amalgamation of overly specific puns and a shared reference that only the two of them could have known.

He’d found her out after they’d both gone into the same broom closet to transform…the strangest of liminal spaces encasing two confused heroes and two giggling kwamis.

Another story for another time.

For now, what matters is that the reveals had lead to a better friendship. A relationship the spans both sides of their coins. A person with whom they could share everything.

Well, almost everything. She can’t very well tell Adrien that she’s loved him since day two. She can’t tell him that now her first love and her almost love have coalesced into one wonderfully flawed and dorky boy.

So she lies. Sort of.

She tells him that she likes someone in school.

He asks if he knows them.

She shrugs and says she thinks so.

He asks about their hobbies and what they look like.

She resorts to nauseating poetry to throw him off.

Eyes the color of la Seine in winter. Hair that is woven from ambrosia. A smile made of sunbeams.

He laughs it all off, in a way that’s too easy…to casual for her to even fathom that he feels anything other than amusement.

She’s noticed…a miniscule change…but after the reveal, he’s less flirtatious as Chat. A lot more laid back and maybe just the tiniest bit more sarcastic.

A mark of friendship…something blessed and cursed at the same time.

So when she confesses, she’s not lying. She tells him everyday in various iterations how much she loves him…and he still has no idea she’s confessing to him.

It’s painful, but it’s a hurt of her own making.

Except for now…today is the day. She won’t lie anymore, because unfortunately she’s noticed the growing numbers of Valentine’s he’d received last month.

Because she’s noticed how much more at ease he is with girls that fawn over him and how much more familiar he is with everyone in class.

Because one day they’ll graduate and one day Hawkmoth will be defeated and her pride is stubborn enough not to let her confession happen because a man with a butterfly obsession threatens to throw her life into chaos.

It’s the same scene. The same cloudy haze and the same bright city.

The same stars she sees in her sight because she’s not breathing right, but she’s got no more time.

She’s silent for a bit, and it’s enough to prompt the usual encouragement.

“Hey…I’m really cheering for you.” Tumbles from his mouth when she feels it break.

Despite her months of practice, she still screws her eyes shut and practically shoves out her confession.

“Sorry I know I lie all the time, but I’ve lo..liked you for a long time…and I don’t want to hide anymore. I know I’ve messed up everything…I know you might not like me back, but I really…I really needed to tell that to you, Adrien.”

It’s only now that the volume has returned. The loud rushing sounds of traffic float up from below, the wailing of a boat horn in the distance…the brief, choked laughing that comes from him.

Beyond her vulnerability, anger and hurt make her eyes fly open. Make her fingers curl into fists and make her open her mouth to tell him to please realize that she’s being serious, but…

He stands there with a giant smile, a boy made a little bit of laughter and a little bit of tears, as he says-

“I love you too.”

#miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #adrienette #chat noir #ladybug

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