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starsaver94 · 3 months

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Taming the Beast Within Ch.12

The chatter of hungry and talkative students filled the air in Lunch-Rush’s cafeteria. Kyoko, Midoriya, Uraraka and Iida all sat together at a table, each one enjoying their individual lunches.

“This rice is delicious!” Uraraka mumbles around her bite of white rice.

“If you think the rice is good, you should really try the sweet pork curry!” Kyoko recommends.

Midoriya lets out a sigh while staring down at his beef bowl “Hey guys, I’m actually kinda worried about the whole class rep thing. I really don’t think I’m qualified.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Uraraka and Kyoko chimed in unison.

“You’ll be great.” Iida agrees “After all, your courage and quick-thinking even while under stress will help make you a worthy leader. Not to mention the strength you’ve shown so far. Those are the reasons I voted for you at least.”

“Huh? I thought you wanted to be the class rep, Iida.” Kyoko said in slight shock.

“Wanting a job and being suited for one are two completely different things.” Iida states “Observing the Iida family agency have taught me that.”

“Agency?” Midoriya, Uraraka and Kyoko all ask together.

“Wait a minute. What does your family do exactly?” Midoriya questions the now flustered Iida.

“I-It’s nothing, really.”

You say it’s nothing…

And yet you’re getting a bit stirred up right now…

“You know,” Uraraka ponders “I’ve been wondering something about you. Admit it, Iida. You’re filthy rich!”

A shocked look flashes across Iida’s face before he turns away “I was afraid people would treat me differently if they knew about my family.”

He lets out a sigh before continuing “You see, we Iida’s have been pro-heroes for generations, it runs through our family blood.”

“That’s awesome!” Midoriya, Uraraka and Kyoko all exclaim as one.

“Are the three of you familiar with the Turbo Hero, Ingenium?”

“I know all about him!” Midoriya excitedly exclaims “He’s a really popular pro with 65 sidekicks working with him at his agency in Tokyo! Wait, don’t tell me.”

“Yes! He’s my elder brother!”

So Iida’s related to a pro-hero too…

Iida’s words fade out as memories of Kyoko’s father come flooding back to her. All of those things that she saw him think with her quirk as well as the things he said out loud, stuck to her mind like glue and refused to go away. Even if they’ve faded overtime, they were always still there in the back of her mind. Whispering thoughts of insecurities into her ear like a mischievous spirit.

*Briiing*

The loud, continuous ring of a school bell soon snaps Kyoko out of her thoughts.

Warning, Level Three security breach. All students please evacuate the building in an orderly fashion.

What?!

The entirety of the cafeteria soon breaks out into a panic. Students began yelling, pushing and shoving each other in a rush to exit the building. In the madness, Kyoko ends up getting shoved onto the ground. She lets out a grunt of pain as she pushes her sore body off of the floor and attempts to make her way through the panicked crowed. Another student ends up ramming into her shoulder from behind, sending her back onto the ground. More pained grunts escape as she feel multiple pairs of shoes step on her back and legs.

I’m not weak…

I’m not going to lay here and get trampled like this!

Another push and she’s off of the floor once again. She scans the crowd looking for any signs of Midoriya, Uraraka or Iida.

“Listen up, everything is ok!”

Iida?!

Kyoko looks up to see Iida carefully balancing himself on top of the exit sign.

“It’s just the media outside. There is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine!”

Those reporters from this morning…

“We are U.A students!” Iida continues “We need to remain calm and prove that we are the best of the best.”

As soon as Iida finished his announcement, the sound of police sirens could be heard outside.

After the reporters were escorted out by the police, homeroom for 1-A continued as normal.

“Ok, so we need to figure out who the other class officers will be.” A trembling Midoriya announces to the class. “But first, there’s something that I want to say. I thought a lot about this, and I believe that Tenya Iida should be our class rep! He was able to capture everyone’s attention and get us in line. So yeah, I believe that he should be leading our class from now on!”

“You know what, if Midoriya vouches for him I’m good!” A boy with spiked-up red hair comments “Besides he was a big help. Totally manned up and took charge, right?”

“This is a waste of time.” Aizawa grumpily states from his sleeping bag “I don’t care who the rep is, just hurry up.”

Iida stands up from his desk “If Midoriya is nominating me for this job, then I gratefully accept. I promise to carry out the duties and responsibilities of class rep to the best of my abilities!”

Congrats, you’ve earned it Iida…

“Now then, today’s training will be a little different.” Aizawa begins his morning instructions “You all will have three instructors. Me, All Might and another faculty member will be keeping an eye on you.”

Three instructors?

Aizawa soon hold up a white card with the word RESCUE printed on it in blue letters.

Rescue training!

Now that’s more my cup of tea!

“You all will be dealing with natural disasters, shipwrecks, and other things like that.”

Excited chatter fills the classroom as students begin to chat with one another about their new assignment. All Kyoko could do at the moment was smile at the prospect of doing something she could actually be good at for once.

“I’m not finished yet.” Aizawa states, clearly getting frustrated with his excitable students “What you wear during this exercise is all up to you. I know you guys are excited about costumes, but keep in mind that you haven’t gotten used to them yet, and they might limit your natural abilities.”

He presses a button on a remote and capsules similar to the one’s from All Might’s class come out of the wall.

“This training is at an off-campus facility, so we’ll be taking a bus to get there.”

Aizawa finishes giving instructions while walking out of the classroom “That’s all. Start getting ready.”

The smile never left Kyoko’s face as she stood outside with the rest of her classmates. Not even the loud whistle and instructions on where to sit on the bus from Iida made it fade. There was one thing however, and that was when she got on the bus.

Ok, so where do I sit?

Iida said to sit by class number…

So that means…

Her eyes drifted over to her seat on the bus, which was right next to…

Oh no…

Bakugou. Out of all the people in her class, she was seated next to the explosion-using, battle-hungry, short-tempered, could-end-her-in-a-heartbeat-if-he-wanted-to, Bakugou.

Why universe?

Why me?

Kyoko trembled as she took the seat next to the blonde. Her whole body was tense as she sat in her seat.

This is going to be a long trip…

Kyoko didn’t say a word as the bus continued its way towards class 1-A’s destination.

Don’t say anything…

Don’t look at him…

Don’t do anything that could set him off…

Don’t do anything that could make you end up as nothing more than an ash filled crater…

“If anyone has a pro quirk, it’s Todoroki and Bakugou.” The red-haired student comments. Kira-something was it?

Kyoko could hear Bakugou tense up at the sound of his name. Right now she was silently willing him not to get mad.

“Sure, but Bakugou’s always angry, so he’ll never be that popular.” Asui states nonchalantly.

Oh no…

“What did you just say? I’ll kick your ass!” Bakugou snaps at the frog-like girl.

“See?”

“You know, we basically just met you.” A boy whose name Kyoko couldn’t recall says to Bakugou, whose rage is clearly increasing with every second “So it’s actually kinda telling that we know your personality is flaming crap mixed with garbage.”

“You’re going to regret the day you applied to this school, you loser! I’ll kill you!” Bakugou barks out.

“B-Bakugou, please calm down.” Kyoko stutters out.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, weakling!”

The argument between the two teens continues with Kyoko feebly attempting to calm the enraged Bakugou down.

“Stop messing around.” Aizawa calls from the front of the bus “We’re here.”

A person in what appeared to be an astronaut suit stood in front of the students as they exited off of the bus.

“Hello everyone! I’ve been waiting for you!”

“The Space Hero: Thirteen!” Midoriya exclaims.

Do you know every hero by heart or something?

“I can’t wait to show you all what’s inside!” Thirteen exclaims to the class.

This is going to be awesome!

The interior of the dome-like building was absolutely huge. Each corner had its own rescue area, all were based after a different type of disaster.

Shipwreck, landslide, fire, windstorm, and other related disasters were all on display for the class to see and be amazed at.

“I created this training facility to prepare all of you to deal with different types of disasters. I call it the Unforeseen Simulation Joint. But you can call it, USJ!”

“The clock is ticking, let’s get started.” Aizawa states.

“Excellent. Now, before we begin, let me say just one thing. We’ll maybe two things.” Thirteen announces “Listen carefully. I’m sure you all are aware that I have a powerful quirk. It’s called Black Hole. I can use it to suck up anything and turn it into dust.”

“You’ve used Black Hole to save people from all kinds of disasters before, haven’t you?” Midoriya asks.

“Yes, but my quirk could also very easily be used to kill.”

The word ‘kill’ made Kyoko’s blood run cold. The fact that a hero could have a quirk that could hurt as well as protect was nothing new to her, but the fact that this was coming out of a hero whose main job was disaster rescue was still shocking to her.

“Some of you also have powers that can be quite dangerous. In our society, all quirks are certified and strictly regulated, so we can often overlook how unsafe they can really be. Please, don’t forget that if you lose focus or make a wrong move, your powers can be deadly. Even if you’re trying to do something heroic or virtuous.”

Kyoko couldn’t help but glance over at Bakugou. The words used in Thirteen’s speech were describing him perfectly. She knew that he could be reckless, it was made perfectly clear during All Might’s combat training. But a part of her knew that despite his near constant threats to do so, he would never kill someone.

Suddenly, the lights in the area started to spark and flicker, causing the students to look around and murmur in confusion. The nearby fountain began to rapidly turn on and off while a dark purple and black void appeared in front of it.

It then spreads itself out, revealing two glowing yellow eyes the color of sulfur amongst the shadowy purple and black outline.

A hand, followed by a body slowly comes out of the shadowy creature.

“Stay together and don’t move!” Aizawa orders his shocked students “Thirteen, protect the students!”

What on Earth is that thing?!

More people began to come out of the pitch-black mass. One after another after another.

“This is real. Those are villains.” Aizawa warned.

Villains?!

Every member of class 1-A soon realizes one common thing.

A true threat has arrived…

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agesofarthur · 11 months

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"Ages of Arthur"

Uther Pendragon was a man of great luck. In my age, many cruel and volatile creatures roamed the wilderness, paths, and even castle halls, but none matched his unique ill-temper and obstinance. All of Camelot would've been conquered, it and his name forgotten, had it not been for his just as notably extraordinary stupidity. Thank the Faye, any intelligence within his skull was beaten out of him during his knights' training. Had it not been for that, surely someone would have deemed him threatening enough to kill, and never would I have crossed his path.

Uther sought me out while attempting to make a fortress in this new land, more immense and grandeur than any other, planning to fortify it to be impenetrable from the Romans and all the other interlopers. When he began to dig into the earth of his new home, he found a cavern where he had intended the latrines to go. In an instant, his servants were snatched in red hulking jaws and swallowed. In cowardice, he ran far from the scene; it was the correct choice. You cannot defeat a dragon. His warriors began mapping out the next site, soldiers always endlessly pragmatic. But the nobleman reached and murmured over books instead of maps. These men were knights only in name. The firstborn sons were protected from their station's violence until they could produce an heir. By then, it was too late for them to learn what their younger brothers had been practicing and utilizing on the battlefield for years while they were finding wives. They lacked their less lucky brother's reality and rational fear and only knew how to be a leader when behind a fortress and surrounded by servants. To make matters worse, they tended to take witches from the nomadic druid communities as slaves and mistresses. These men sought to discover what was meant by finding this cavern and what was demanded of such a discovery.

For whatever reason, Uther decided to listen to his nobleman. These men inevitably brought him to my people's camp. They sought the advice of the druids. I scried their coming the month before, but I had hoped it was a wicked hallucination from the Faye.

They paid us handsomely for our aid, offering livestock and dogs and promises of land and hunting rights. Seizing the opportunity, the elders said a blood sacrifice was needed on the soil before he could build his great empire, the blood and life of something magical. For three more chickens, the elders gathered the orphan children whose parents had died from exposure, disease, beasts, marauders… I stood by my younger sister and another boy two millennia since, and I cannot recall their names. I am thankful someone wrote down Uther's, so I do not have to remember it. I didn't write it down?

In perhaps what was supernatural intervention Uther picked me out, whether for trickery or a grand purpose, I will never know. But Uther's men grabbed me roughly by the arms and dragged me to the cavern. I didn't attempt to struggle against the squires who pulled at my tunic. I hurried to try and keep stride to avoid being trampled under their feet and the king's horse's hooves. As we left the camp, I tripped myself to fall on my hands to grab at the chicken bones left on the forest ground during last night's meal. I pocketed the bones quickly and did my best to stand up, but in their impatience, the stout noble son yanked me upright by the collar and pushed me roughly on the neck to move.

While the men contemplated the most appropriate way to slaughter me to please the dragons at the cavern's edge, I took the bones again in my grip and held them to my lips. I whispered the fortune-telling cantations in the words of the Unseelie. I threw the bones in front of me and watched as they caught fire at the mouth of the cave. The sun was only in the middle of the sky, but the light seemed unwilling to fall into the cavern's unobstructed opening. The flames weren't as bashful. The lights were unnaturally bright, alighting the whole giant place. Our ability to stand and later build a castle on that thin earth's crust was miraculous. Beneath us stretched nothing but open endless air for miles, and inside were two thrashing dragons who struggled with each other.

I had never cared for fortune-telling; visions had been my curse since I could remember. An inherently dubious task for someone whose memories include the future. The prophecies came as they pleased, requiring more practical casting to appease these pretending sages. To survive this far, nearly to manhood, I had to learn spells, but I still was an amateur in all things but divination.

I first saw the red dragon, the color of Uther's cloak. Its eyes absorbed the harsh fire light, and its rouge scales danced iridescently. Its monstrously thick tail struck against the head of the blue-scaled dragon whose eyes shone out from its own source. The azure claws caught a junk of its opponent's flesh; the meat was vibrant red, an imperceivable wound on its crimson flesh. The men who had been so eagerly pushing against me earlier backed away, avoiding the dangerous mouth and deftly walking back as they began to consider the fragile earth beneath them. I forced myself to look away from the beast and read the bones. I watched the hollow dirt and tendon-flecked cartilage crack and burn. They revealed much to me immediately. But more than the bones could give, the flames danced with haunting images of a man's face.

At first, I thought it was Uther, but the man was younger and had less angled features. I watched his story burn brightly in the flames, the earth untouched. When the fire finally died, I confessed all I had seen to Uther and promised him a strong castle and a worthy heir I could help usher in as long as he kept me as an adviser. Beyond the flames, I offered no proof of my prediction, but Uther asked nothing of me. I was a child then and had yet to see more than nine solstices. Uther never questioned me. And I rewarded him greatly for that. I helped him seal the dragons away, build his magnificent castle and steal away his knight's wife, who gave birth to his formidable heir, Arthur Pendragon, whose eyes shone like the red dragons. After his birth, five or so solstices after I met Uther, I had a few lesser squires in the court dig through the dungeons into the cavern. They didn't return to report. When I went to search, the blue dragon laid its head on top of the dirt and clawed at the hole, making it bigger, but its head clanked against the bars. Some prisoners were missing, swallowed whole, but most were out of the beast's reach and now only charred skeletons. I threw concussive spells at it until it retreated into the cave. I stayed in the charcoal jail at the cave's entrance all night, throwing fire into its depth and blasting the greedy thing whenever it neared. I had hoped the red dragon would reveal itself, but it never came. In the morning, I stitched the earth together once more.

I helped Uther for my own gain and survival. I never cared for his success in terms of land, reputation, or happiness. I only cared for his increased wealth to allow for my own comfort and maintain his contentedness to avoid unneeded strife. But Arthur, I served out of curiosity. His reign was shorter than Uthers' and more successful in some ways, he accumulated wealth fast, and his reputation was colossal. Many men served him loyal and proudly, but unfortunately, he wasn't as foolish as his predecessor, and jealous men walked in arms with him.

When I had scried the coming of Uther into my life, I had thought myself the most hapless being. But in exchange for my clairvoyance, he gave me a station that had been unattainable and quite a lot of enjoyment from my role as his advisor among his fellow noblemen. Now, Uther's son, Arthur, was quite unlucky.

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bratdesire · 3 years

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Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house.

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you.

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is.

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be.

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she?

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you.

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.”

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.”

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?”

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible.

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.”

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him.

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease.

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face.

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair.

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other.

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric.

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans.

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks.

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need.

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game.

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce.

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his.

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him.

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond.

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue.

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.”

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room.

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin.

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make.

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you.

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices.

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see.

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy.

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples.

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching.

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore.

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end?

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more.

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse.

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck.

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

#haikyuu smut #ukai x reader #ukai smut #haikyuu x reader #ukai keishin #server collab #bunny scribbles #hq smut #hq fanfic #hq reader insert #haikyuu imagines

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

Your First Time Being Affectionate In Front Of Another Member ~ Stray Kids Reaction

Bang Chan:

He couldn’t hide his relief as he walked off the stage, noticing you stood in the wings waiting for him. “Hug me,” he smirked, throwing his arms tightly around you.

You did as Chan said, moving your arms tightly around his waist. “You did so well, I’m not surprised your absolutely exhausted now,” you complimented into his ear.

“Cute,” you suddenly heard a voice mumble from behind you.

Both of you looked back to see Hyunjin watching the two of you closely. “Something you want to say a little louder?” Chan grinned, noticing the blush on Hyunjin’s cheeks.

“I’ve just never seen the two of you actually hug before, it’s cute,” he repeated, offering you both a warm smile, “you look good together like this.”

Chan’s brows knitted in confusion, “what are you trying to say we look like when we’re not hugging each other?” He challenged, “what’s so different.”

“Nothing,” Hyunjin chuckled, quickly correcting his mistake. “It’s just nice to see that you’re in love now rather than just constantly hearing you just say it.”

“I don’t constantly say it, don’t lie in front of Y/N.”

Lee Know:

You knew as soon as Minho pulled you to one side what his intentions were, pinning you up against the wall. “Stop, before someone ends up spotting us both.”

Minho’s head shook, pressing one of his hands against your crimson cheeks, “we’re all alone, don’t worry about any of them, just put lipstick on my lips, please.”

“Excuse me,” a voice coughed as soon as you pressed a kiss to Minho.

In an instant, you pulled away as Felix tried to walk down the corridor. “There are other routes you could take to the kitchen,” Minho hissed, stepping aside for him.

“But this way is quicker,” Felix smirked, smiling forcefully as he passed you by, “and I’m too nosey to ignore the fact I saw you both sneak away too.”

Minho’s eyes rolled, sensing your frustration from beside him. “Can’t you just hurry up and go to the kitchen so we can get back to what we were doing, before being interrupted?”

“I could,” Felix whined, extending every word, “but I wouldn’t get anywhere near as much satisfaction from winding you up if I went now.”

“Your impossible, do you know that? And everyone says your harmless.”

Changbin:

His hands grabbed onto you as soon as the door opened, knowing how tempted you’d be to run away. “Oh, hello?” Jisung smiled as he walked into the room.

Your eyes sent Changbin a glare, far too strong for you to get away from. “Don’t mind us,” Changbin smiled, pulling you back tightly against your chest.

“Don’t worry, I’m not stopping,” Jisung informed you both.

You buried yourself into Changbin’s chest, feeling his head rest against yours. “Don’t feel like you have to leave for us, we don’t mind you sticking around.”

“No, you guys look cute, I don’t want to disturb any moments,” Jisung quickly assured you both, grabbing what he wanted from around the room.

Whilst you remained hidden, Changbin spoke up once again, “the other members aren’t hiding out are they, because we’re here instead?”

“No,” Jisung chuckled, “they’re doing…well, whatever they’re doing. So, Y/N, you don’t have to get so red next time too, we honestly don’t mind you both.”

“See, I told you there was no reason to get embarrassed.”

Hyunjin:

A hand grabbed onto you, pulling you into the corridor of the dorm where a bit of privacy could be had. “Why don’t you stay the night, we can be quiet, right?”

Just as Hyunjin finished speaking, a bright light caught your eye, causing you to flinch into Hyunjin’s chest. “What the hell was that?” You questioned, covering your face.

“Shoot,” you heard a voice mutter, looking to see where it came from.

As Hyunjin noticed Jeongin stood staring at you both, he knew exactly what had happened. “Were you sneaking up on the two of us and taking photos?”

“Maybe,” Jeongin smirked, placing his phone away. “I wanted to prove to the boys how cute you were, but then the flash went off and ruined it.”

You grabbed onto Hyunjin’s hand to stop him approaching Jeongin. “You know, you could just tell them we’re cute rather than having to take a photo.”

“It was too good of an opportunity,” Jeongin argued, “no one’s ever really seen the two of you together before, and I wanted to use it against the others too.”

“So, you’re using our relationship as a bribe. I see how it is.”

Han:

Your eyes widened at the sound of the main door to the dorm opening, noticing Seungmin walking in. “Sorry, I thought everyone was in their rooms.”

You desperately tried to roll away from Jisung, but his arms stayed around your waist. “We just thought we’d make the most of the big sofa without anyone around.”

“I’ll leave you to two it in a minute then,” Seungmin smiled.

You finally relaxed as he walked into the kitchen to grab himself a drink. “Your members don’t want to see us being all cuddly, I thought we always agreed on that?”

“Don’t worry Y/N,” Seungmin called out from the kitchen, only leaving you more embarrassed. “We all adore how close the two of you are anyway.”

A groan escaped as Seungmin walked back into the room, “still, this is your home, I’ll make sure to be more respectful, even if Jisung decides otherwise.”

“He’s always rubbed your relationship in our faces, I don’t think you’ll be able to change that about him any time soon,” Seungmin teased.

“Give me time, I know his weaknesses remember.”

Felix:

As soon as the group were called, Felix pulled you up to your feet so that he could hug you tightly. “Congratulations,” you quickly whispered before having to let him go.

With the band already on their way to the stage, Chan hung back, throwing his arm around Felix. “Y/N’s a great girl, your really lucky to have her support.”

“Where’s this suddenly come from?” Felix quietly responded.

Chan’s eyes flickered back to you momentarily, noticing you sat back down. “I saw the way you hugged her in amongst all of the chaos, you’ve never been like that.”

“She’s great,” Felix agreed, turning back to look at you too. “I couldn’t help myself; it was just first instinct to grab onto her and celebrate too.”

Chan smiled across to his best friend, “I think that should tell you a lot about how you feel about her and how important she is to your life too.”

“I’m sure there were plenty of cameras around to catch the moment too,” Felix sighed, unable to completely let himself go with excitement.

“Don’t worry about it, sometimes life is too important to worry.”

Seungmin:

Your eyes rolled as Seungmin stepped towards you, glancing into the living room before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I saw that! A voice yelled, however.

Seungmin turned first, noticing Changbin’s face peering just around the wall at you both. “Can I not even get a moment to myself in this place without someone there?”

“I just knew you’d kiss her,” Changbin excitedly responded.

You hit gently against Seungmin’s chest, “I thought you assured me that no one would be around to see the two of us, let alone in a situation such as this.”

“No one was supposed to be around,” Seungmin argued, only for Changbin to poke his tongue out at him. “But some people just can’t help themselves.”

Changbin continued to stare back innocently, “I just wanted to be the first to see the two of you and tell you what a cute couple you make with one another.”

“Is this your way of an apology?” Seungmin questioned, “or are you going to let me get to say goodbye to Y/N properly before she heads home.”

“I’ll leave you alone, it’ll be like I was never here.”

I.N:

A shy smile appeared on Jeongin’s face as you walked into their dressing room, “I’m glad you could make it,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes instantly locked with Minho who was stood just to the side. “Why are you smiling so wide?” You asked him as Jeongin pulled away, looking for himself.

“You look creepy,” Jeongin teased when he saw his wide grin.

Minho’s eyes flickered between the two of you, “I just enjoy seeing how in love you both are, and how comfortable you are to finally be affectionate with one another.”

“That’s why your smiling,” Jeongin groaned, pushing his elder against the arm. “I thought something really good had happened or something.

Minho looked wide eyed back across at him, “something good has just happened, the two of you. I don’t think I’ve said it before, but I’m really happy for you both.”

“Something about this doesn’t feel right,” you chuckled, glancing suspiciously at Minho. “Your never normally this nice, especially to me.”

“People change Y/N, especially at the sight of love.”

---

Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

animeomegas · 3 years

Text

Omega!Itachi Getting Married

Anon: Helllooo!!! I was wonderin if u could write for omega itachi getting married. I'd really appreciate it :)

(Hello! Hello! This is the oldest request in my inbox, so I hope this ends up being worth the wait! Enjoy~ <3)

Warning: implied sexual activity

General headcanons - Non-massacre AU:

Itachi has always known that he would get married someday.

After all, it was his duty as clan heir.

But he never expected to actually love his mate. He was required to angle for a politically/socially advantageous match and he had made his peace with that.

If he had to marry someone to keep peace between clans, he would. If he had to marry someone his parents chose for him to keep conflict in the family down, he would.

Itachi’s fatal flaw is that he doesn’t see his comfort/happiness as important.

And while he looked forward to his future children, his future spouse was a neutral event. It would happen, whether he wanted it to or not, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Best case scenario, he might have a new friend, or at least someone he respects, to live with him.

Worst case scenario, he ends up in a horrible marriage. He tried not to think too much about this option.

He never expected there to be any love between him and his future spouse.

Until he met you.

He found a person who actually loved him. An alpha who was as dedicated to a future family as he was. A partner who respected him more than he had ever hoped.

And Itachi fell hard and fast.

So, when you proposed, he felt like everything he had never dared to hope for was coming true.

You went to get his parents’ permission first (and the permission of the clan by proxy) and did the proposal in front of them. It wasn’t ideal, you knew Itachi would be happier with a private proposal, but you also knew that Itachi wouldn’t believe that he had their approval unless he saw it first-hand.

Itachi and his family are very traditional, so you weren’t mated before you got married, instead, you mated on your wedding night.

Itachi is very happy to let his family dictate the wedding. He doesn’t care as long as he’s married to you at the end of the day.

(But he does have preferences that you can extract from him, but getting Itachi’s true opinion, can be like pulling teeth.)

Proposal:

You had known Itachi since you were both 18, two years now. You had been courting him officially for a year and a half before you proposed.

As I mentioned, you proposed in front of Itachi’s parents, to make sure that he knew that you had gained their approval.

Sasuke was also there, after years of bribery, finally accepting of you and Itachi’s relationship. You met Sasuke when he had just graduated from the academy, and he was not impressed by this new person stealing his brother from him when he wanted Itachi to train him ☹

For Itachi, it was a normal family dinner.

He definitely noticed that you were behaving nervously, but he knew his family could be stiff, overly traditional and a little intimidating, so he figured that was the cause of your discomfort.

Sasuke was also staring at you suspiciously the whole evening, but to be honest, sometimes Sasuke was just like that, so Itachi thought nothing of it.

You kept a hand on his knee for the entire meal, only letting go of him when you announced that you had brought dessert for everyone and would be happy to serve it.

Itachi smiled his gorgeous smile at you, so pleased to see you making an effort with his family (or perhaps he was smiling about the desert, Itachi’s sweet tooth is legendary after all. It was difficult to tell.)

Nervously clenching your hands, you walked over to the fridge, pulling out the plate of dango you had hidden in there earlier. It was Itachi’s favourite, and if there was anything to convince him to say yes to your proposal, it was a demonstration of how much dango you were willing to buy for him.

‘Don’t mess this up,’ you said to yourself, gingerly sliding the plate of dango out of the fridge. It was an elaborate platter that had cost far too much. There were seven different dango flavours with an assortment of dips and dressings, arranged artfully with fruit and dried flowers to decorate the plate.

You walked to back to the table and presented the plate with a dramatic flourish to hide your nerves.

Itachi’s face lit up. Despite your nerves, his obvious excitement put a smile on your face. He really was perfect.

And that’s why you can’t mess this up.

“There’s anko, green tea, sesame,” you pointed at each flavour as you listed them. “Hanami and…er… some other ones…?”

Sasuke scoffed at your embarrassing failure to recall the flavours, causing a red flush to creep up your neck. You didn’t even know that there was this many dango flavours before yesterday! Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, perhaps due to the sharp look Itachi had shot at him.

“I made sure to get enough for everyone, but there’s something I’d like to ask for in return.”

You could see Itachi trying to catch your eye, probably to ask what an earth you were doing, but you purposefully avoided looking in his direction.

“The only thing I ask,” you continued, nervously. “Is for a minute of your time before we eat dessert.”

Mikoto smiled at you and nodded for you to go ahead with a gentle wave of her hand. Sasuke simply raised an eyebrow at you but didn’t interrupt.

“Great,” you laughed nervously. “Um, so, er, Itachi.”

Itachi straightened under your sudden attention. He looked immensely uncomfortable and confused, he was probably panicking about you doing something in front of his family that you would regret. He always played liaison between you and his family to avoid conflict and was probably not comfortable with you doing this. Unfortunately, he would never believe that you had his parents’ approval if you didn’t propose in front of them.

“I’ve known you for two years now, Itachi,” you started, finally looking at Itachi in the eye. “And it sounds horribly cheesy, but I think that I fall in love with you more every day.”

A barely audible gasp left Itachi. He was a genius, after all, he had probably figured out where this was going. He looked torn between panicked and elated, seeming to settle somewhere around shell-shocked.

“I’ve come to realise recently that, a life without that love, without your love, isn’t a life that I want.”

You can just about see tears gathering in Itachi’s waterline. It doesn’t look like he’s breathing at all.

With one final rush of bravery, you pulled out the diamond ring that had been weighing down your pocket for months and knelt down onto the dining room floor.

“Will you marry me?”

Itachi’s head whips around to face his parents, most likely preparing some serious damage control. But when he sees his mother’s gentle smile and his father’s subtle nod, he slowly moves his gaze back to you. You’ve never seen him look so shocked before. It was almost amusing enough to distract you from your nerves. Almost.

“I-,” Itachi swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say what you want to say, Itachi,” his mother replies, trying to encourage him.

His mother’s words seemed to break him out of his stupor and Itachi breathes out a single word.

“Yes.”

You let out a delighted and relieved laugh, taking Itachi’s hand in yours and slipping the ring onto his finger, and even though his family were all watching you, you couldn’t help but pull him into an embrace.

“I love you so much,” you whispered to him. “I’ll read you my real proposal speech this evening.”

Itachi laughed into your shoulder. His laughter had a hysteric edge to it, his mind still clearly reeling at what you had just done.

“Real speech?”

“You didn’t think I was going read my real proposal out in front of your parents, did you? No way. They still think we’re virgins and I didn’t want to spoil that illusion for them.”

Itachi quickly and efficiently jabbed you in the stomach and hit you with his infamous glare.

“Okay, I deserved that,” you winced, gingerly rubbing the sore spot.

Finally, you pulled away and moved to dish out the dango. And if Itachi got the biggest portion, well, no one mentioned it.

Planning:

Itachi lets his clan take over the planning.

He doesn’t want to deal with the stress of having to combat his family at every turn and would much rather just let them do it. As long as you’re there with him, nothing else really matters.

But even when his clan leave the smaller decisions up to him, he’s hesitant to voice his opinions, wanting his alpha to make them as an apology for his family commandeering everything.

But if you pay attention to little signs and reactions that Itachi gives, you can figure out some of his wants and desires.

Overall, there isn’t much to say about the wedding planning, because Itachi doesn’t do much of it.

Things he wants (compromise available/no compromise allowed):

Sasuke as his groomsman and Shisui as his best man – Itachi doesn’t have many close friends or relatives. He has you, Sasuke, Shisui… er, he’d probably invite his old captain Kakashi and… well, you get the point. So, every person who is important to him needs to be by his side at his wedding, and who is more important than his best friend and little brother.

A traditional wedding – He isn’t actually that bothered by what type of wedding he has, but he knows his family and clan will insist on a traditional celebration and as I mentioned, he doesn’t want to fight. The elders will push the wedding to be held in the clan compound and Itachi would be told to wear a traditional Uchiha wedding garment.

A sweets cart – This is something that he won’t bring up, and therefore isn’t bolded, but it’s very easy to see his face light up when he sees this in a wedding catalogue. It’s a wooden cart with different jars of sweets with little scoops for people to help themselves to. Itachi loves sweet food, obviously, but he also thinks it would be something the children in the clan would adore. He kind of really wants one, but he won’t bring it up unless someone else does first.

An early wedding – He won’t fight you or his family about this, but ideally, he would like to get married in the morning, maybe around 8 or 9 AM. Itachi is definitely an early bird who prefers the ambience of the early morning which is part of the reason, but mainly he just wants the performative part of the wedding over and done with so he can start his honeymoon. He doesn’t find it appealing to spend all night pretending to tolerate the elders of his clan who will almost certainly spend their time berating him for his choice of partner and then telling him he needs to have as many children as possible because he’s a powerful ninja that will produce powerful children. He just doesn’t want to deal with it. Leaving at 6 PM with you to go on your honeymoon and finally, finally mate? That sounds much more fun.

To try and conceive on his honeymoon – Obviously, he’s not going to force anything if you aren’t ready, but he would really love to start trying to conceive straight away. He’s desperate to have his own children, firstly, but also, he knows this is his only ticket to retiring from being a ninja. He wants to retire so badly, and so if you’re both ready for children, he doesn’t want to wait.

The wedding:

You don’t see Itachi for a day before the wedding, as is tradition. You see him for the first time that weekend when he’s walking down the hall towards you.

And as Fugaku walks Itachi down the aisle, you are completely breathless.

He looks stunning.

His hair had been intricately platted with flowers, some lose strands of hair left to frame his face.

He’s wearing a deep red, formal kimono just as you expected, but it looked so much more beautiful than you had imagined.

He looked like royalty.

The whole ceremony flew by, and before you knew it, it was time for you and Itachi to say goodbye and leave for your honeymoon.

Your honeymoon was to be had at a cabin held deep in the woods on the Uchiha compound. The rule was that married couples could not be disturbed for anything other than a life-or-death emergency, so you would be completely alone.

It might have been nice to go abroad, but the Uchiha clan didn’t want Itachi to be distracted by his honeymoon outside of Konoha where he might be attacked and his eyes stolen.

You both had already been by to drop off everything you would need for the week, including clothes, food, games and toiletries.

So, now, all that was left was for you two to get there yourself.

You and Itachi had decided to amble your way to the cabin, taking your time to enjoy each other’s company after a day of socialising with everyone but each other. Not to mention that neither of your outfits were particularly well designed for gallivanting through the forest. It would be rather embarrassing to have to end your self-imposed isolation to go to the hospital on day one, so walking slowly was probably a good idea.

You had been walking for about thirty minutes so the cabin should be… There! You were there!

“Wait!” you shot out a hand to stop Itachi from entering, startling him slightly. “Don’t go in yet.”

Itachi furrowed his brows, absently blowing a stray hair from his face that must have fallen down during the walk.

“I… want to carry you inside,” you admitted bashfully.

Itachi chuckled but stepped closer to let you do it. You beamed at him, pressing a kiss against his lips as a thank you. He looked a lot more tired than this morning; his hair was falling out of its elaborate placement and the makeup you were sure he was coerced into using was a little smudged.

He really was the most beautiful person you had ever met.

With his permission now gained, you placed an arm around his shoulders and another arm behind his knees, before gently lifting him off the ground. You nuzzled Itachi’s neck, enjoying his content scent and the way he sighed happily at your attention.

With your husband firmly in your grasp, you nudged open the front door with your foot and stepped safely over the threshold. You carried Itachi all the way to the bedroom and placed him down gently on the bed.

Itachi leant up to steal a kiss.

“Bringing me straight to the bedroom, you are incorrigible,” he teased, kicking off his shoes and making himself comfortable on the bed.

“I-I wasn’t, I didn’t mean that!” you sputtered, flushing under Itachi’s laughter. Silence fell over the room for a moment as the exhaustion from the day swept over you both.

“Would you mind helping me out of this kimono, please? I think it’s time for something a little more comfortable.”

It took a solid ten minutes to get Itachi out of his clothes and into some pyjamas. Ten minutes and a lot of swear words as every layer seemed to be hiding another one underneath.

“This wasn’t how I imagined undressing you on our wedding night, that felt a lot like pass the parcel but somehow more stressful.”

“Oh?” Itachi questioned, pulling you to sit down on the bed with him, finally free from the constraints of his wedding attire. “How did you imagine it?”

Rather than answer with words, you pressed wet kisses over Itachi’s neck, smirking against his skin as you felt his hand come up to grasp at your hair and a gentle moan escape from his lips.

This was definitely going to be the best part of the celebrations.

#itachi uchiha #omega!itachi #itachi x reader #alpha!reader #gn!reader #reader insert #omegaverse #abo #a/b/o #fluff #wedding #naruto #headcanons #scenario #alpha x omega #male!omega

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Anakin, Shmi, and the Jedi Babies

(Plus Jango)

A scene from the Anakin and the Jedi Babies

Warnings for: canon-typical discussion of slavery.

Shmi is eleven years old when the stranger comes.

He’s tall, and covered in the kind of dark clothes that are hell in the desert. He’s got some armor, too, but not as much as the Mandalorians she sees walking around sometimes. His expression is mean, even though he’s smiling, and she thinks the trader is scared of him.

He’s buying her.

“Now I just need a name for the ownership paperwork,” the trader says. She thinks he’s sweating.

“The sale is already completed, yes?” the stranger says. He tilts his head and purses his lips, still smirking. “No sudden fees coming my way?”

“Of course not, honored customer,” the trader simpers.

“Anakin Skywalker.”

Shmi’s heart stops. That’s her family name.

The trader gets a little paler, as he realizes why this man is here. Shmi watches the calculations fly, wondering if he can maybe squeeze out a few extra wupiupi on this sale. Former slaves freeing family, even family they don’t know, always fetches the highest price.

The stranger—Anakin—leans across the counter and looms over the trader, smiling in the most threatening way Shmi’s ever seen. “No sudden fees, right?”

“Well, there will be the code transfer f—”

“I’m the most dangerous person in this city,” the man says, smile dropping away like flies from a bantha. “Don’t make me prove it, friend.”

The sale is secured, the codes handed over, the detonator passing hands.

Shmi falls into step next to Anakin, hurrying to keep up with his longer strides. He takes her a few blocks away without a word, and then into a shallow spot in an alleyway, right where foot traffic won’t be a bother.

“Hey,” he says, dropping to one knee and placing himself where, even when she sets her gaze low, he’ll be there. He smiles at her, hesitant but far, far kinder than what she saw in the shop. “Do you want me to deactivate your chip now, or once we’re on my ship? I can’t remove it until we’re out of here; I’m no surgeon.”

“…now, please,” she whispers, and watches him punch in the numbers and codes to neutralize the bomb she’s carried inside herself since she was three. It’s done in less than two minutes.

“Do you want me to break this?” he asks, voice soft.

She nods, and watches in fascination as he crushes it in his fist with seemingly no effort.

He smiles at her, tosses the shards into the nearest compactor, and then offers her the hand that isn’t in a glove. She takes it, like she used to take her mom’s before they were separated, and follows him through Mos Pelgo. He’s family. He’s cleanly, clearly freed her. She should be able to trust him.

“Where are we going?” she manages to work up the courage to ask.

His stride stutters a bit, his hand squeezing hers, but his voice is even when he speaks. “Well, I would like you to stay with me, but if you have… have any family to return to, that you know how to find…”

“I don’t know where my mom is,” she says. “She got sold when I was four.”

He squeezes her hand again, and she dares to look at his face. His eyes are squinted, angry, and focused on the horizon. She’d call it stormy, if she’d ever been to a planet of water, but she was a child of the desert. She could feel his anger, and it wasn’t hot and sharp and blinding enough to be a storm of sand.

(She felt that it could be, in the intuition that had kept her alive these past years.)

“I see,” he says. “I’m… okay, then. I’d try to find her if I could, but I don’t know how to do that.”

Shmi shrugs. “She was sent to Jabba’s. I don’t think she’s… um. She’s probably dead, now.”

He’s silent in response to that.

“How did you find me?” she asks, because her intuition says to trust this man to keep her alive, even if she thinks she may not trust his temper.

He thinks about that for a second, and then lets go of her hand for a moment to brush aside a layer of his tunic.

A lightsaber.

Her eyes dart up to his, wide and maybe a little awed. He grins, a little more carefree than before.

“Jeedai?”

“A full Jedi knight, believe it or not,” he confirms. “The Force led me to find you. I don’t think I’d have been able to do locate you without it.”

“Wizard,” she whispers, and then he pulls her into his side and out of the way of a large, too-fast-for-these-streets speeder.

He swears under his breath in a language she doesn’t recognize.

“So, I’m going with you,” she says. “Um, where… where do Jedi live?”

“The Temple is on Coruscant,” he tells her. “But I’ve got business in Mandalorian space, so that’s where I’m based out of right now.”

“Okay,” she says. Mandalore… maybe that’s why he’s got armor like one of them. “I… I heard that Jedi are all called Master, so—”

“No,” Anakin snaps, turning around and getting to one knee in front of her again, hands on both her shoulders, stopping her in a fraction of a second with a look so intense that it scares her. “No, you are never to call me that. You are never going to bow your head to a master again, okay? You are free, and you are family.”

She stares at him for a long second, and then nods. She thinks her head jerks a bit too sharply, but he’s scary. He cares so much that it frightens her. He must be able to tell, because he closes his eyes and visibly forces himself to calm down.

“I was freed when I was nine,” he tells her. “By a Jedi Master. And I know… I know how uncomfortable it is to live like that, where the word means something different to you than it does to everyone else. I became a Jedi, so I learned to make it mean what it was supposed to, respect for teachers and—and elders. But you, you’re not a Jedi, you’re just a girl, and you matter, and—don’t make yourself say it. Please.”

“Okay,” she says. “Do I just… do I just call you Anakin, then?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he says, and his hands twitch on her shoulders. She thinks he wants to pull her into a hug, but is forcing himself to stop. “Or Ani, if you want, my—my mom used to call me that. Seems like something to keep for family.”

“Okay,” she says again. She can do that.

“Or, um,” he hesitates, and then barrels on. “We’ll be in Mandalore. They say ori’vod to mean older sibling. So, er, you can call me that. If you want. You don’t have to.”

She’ll have to practice. It looks like it means a lot to him. “I’ll think about it.”

“Great,” he says, and dithers for a moment before he stands up and turns around, black robes flaring. “Come on, let’s get out of the sun.”

He leads her to just outside the city limits, where there’s a small ship waiting, enough for a half-dozen people on longer trips, maybe. She doesn’t know much about ships, but this one’s covered in scratches and pits, like it’s been in fights and come out the other side.

They open the door, and are met with wailing.

Anakin rushes past her, shouting, “Ben!”

Shmi doesn’t follow immediately, but he’s been pretty insistent that she’s family, not property. She’s allowed inside.

She finds Anakin in the main room, holding a baby and bouncing it in his arms as he hisses a demand to a boy only a few years older than Shmi herself.

“—my kids, Jango!”

“I’m here to babysit the ship, not the baby!” the teenager argues back.

Anakin scoffs and turns his attention to the baby in his arms. Shmi isn’t entirely sure, but she thinks the baby is definitely less than a year old. It quiets in his arms, tiny hands fisting in the fabric she knows is still too hot from the sun outside.

“Shmi, you can sit down,” he tells her, distracted. “I’d love to talk more but I think I need to make a bottle for Ben. I’ll be back in a few.”

She looks around, sees a bench, and sits down. She presses her hands together in her lap, keeps her eyes on the japor charm her mother left with her years ago, hanging around her wrist. She can wait. She’s patient. She’ll figure out how freedom works eventually.

“Mmmmmmbook!”

Shmi jolts in her seat as a very small body collides with her leg, blue and white and giggling. The head of that small body turns up to stare at her with massive eyes, and she sees the child’s face is orange. Togruta, she thinks, and very young.

The little one pushes a flimsi book onto Shmi’s lap and pats at it, grinning up at Shmi with tiny, pearly teeth.

“Ad’ika, she just got here,” the-teenager-that-is-probably-named-Jango sighs, dropping into the seat next to Shmi. “Let her rest.”

“Sto-wee!” the baby Togruta insists, patting at Shmi’s leg. The little one tries to climb up onto the bench, and Shmi reaches out to help after she realizes the toddler is about to slip. She receives, in thanks, a delighted grin and a montral to the ribs as the child hugs her.

“’m Soka!” the little one introduces.

“She’s one of Skywalker’s,” probably-Jango says. “He showed up with those two a few months ago in the middle of a chaak’la snowstorm.”

“No!” Soka insists, slapping her little hand on the book a few times. “No ‘ssip! Book!”

Jango lets his head fall against the metal wall behind them. “Fine. No gossip.”

Shmi looks at the little girl, and then back at the book. She’s… well, she can read. Mostly. She can read better than most slaves her age, but this is Basic, not Huttese.

She cracks it open to the first page, finds herself relieved that it really is a children’s story with small words and big letters, and starts reading it out loud. She goes slow. The story is about an eopie trying to find its way home after getting lost, asking other farm animals for help. There are plenty of pictures, and sometimes Soka pats at the book and shouts the name of an animal. It’s very cute, overall.

About two-thirds of the way through, she stumbles. It’s a word she hasn’t seen before, long and with repeating letters that she can’t quite figure out how to say. She pauses, long enough that she’s sure little Soka is confused about why she’s stopped.

“Happabore,” Jango mutters.

Shmi lifts her head, but he’s not looking at her. She looks down at the book again, mouths the letters to herself, and thinks that yes, that probably fits. She keeps reading aloud, letting little Soka tell her about her favorite animals, and when she finishes and looks up, it’s to find Anakin standing across from them.

He’s leaning against a doorframe, bottle-feeding the baby named Ben, and watching them with an expression Shmi thinks might be ‘wistful.’

“Skyguy!” Little Soka cheers, sliding off the bench so she can toddle over to the man as fast as her little legs can carry her. “Skyguy, gots a fweind!”

He smiles indulgently and lets her hug his leg. “I can see that, Snips. You guys have fun?”

“Uh-huh!” the little one tells him. She raises her hands at him. “Up!”

“Sorry, hun, no can do,” Anakin apologizes. “I’m feeding Ben, and I need both hands for that.”

She pouts, and he jerks his chin at Shmi and Jango. “Go back to the bench and you can help me feed him, okay?”

Soka races back.

“Fett, go get the ship powered up,” Anakin says as he ambles over, voice the kind of casually commanding that gives Shmi goosebumps. It’s not familiar, not the way an owner is, but it’s… it’s a voice that’s very used to having authority. “I want us out of here as soon as possible.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I am the commanding officer according to Jaster,” Anakin says, and Shmi watches him raise an eyebrow. “I know it’s not much of a mission, but I am in charge until we’re back on Concord Dawn. You want me to tell him you’re playing at insubordination?”

Jango makes a face, sticking out his tongue. Anakin waits.

Jango goes to start the ship.

“Teenagers,” Anakin mutters, shaking his head. “I want to say I was never that bad, but I’d be lying.”

Soka giggles, bouncing in her seat as Anakin carefully lowers himself down next to her. “Okay, okay, settle down. He’s cranky, kiddo.”

“Wanna help,” Soka stresses, reaching for the bottle. Anakin shifts away from her, keeping it out of her reach. “Skyguy!”

“Slow down, Snips,” he chides. “Climb on my lap and we can hold him together, okay?”

Shmi fiddles with her japor snippet, but she can’t help her fascination with the dynamic presented. Anakin obviously isn’t related to Soka by blood, but he’s adopted her as his own. They haven’t said as much, but it’s obvious. He can’t stop smiling as he talks the girl through holding the bottle for her baby brother, even though it’s obvious from the outside that he’s the one actually holding it, and her, and the baby.

The ship hums to life around them. Anakin tilts his head, as if listening to something, and then goes back to the baby.

It’s another minute before Anakin says, “Okay, that’s enough. I need to burp him. Go on, scoot.”

Soka grimaces as well as a two-year-old can, and slides off of Anakin’s lap onto the bench. He stands and presses the baby up to his shoulder, patting it on the back. There’s a towel there already, something Shmi hadn’t noticed earlier.

“I’m going to go check on Jango,” he tells them. “Shmi, can you get Soka in her seat? I’ll tell you how to buckle her in, but I promised Jango he could fly us back and I want to sit up there to make sure he gets us into hyperspace without, say, exploding.”

It’s only a minute or two to get both of them sat down and buckled in, and Soka spends the entire time until lift-off telling Shmi about how much she likes eopies. This continues well until they end up in hyperspace, the jolt of it making the little one squeal in excitement, even if Shmi feels her stomach drop out. Shortly after, the boys wander back in.

“We’re good for a couple hours,” Anakin says. “Nav computer’s got it until we jump back out. Anyone want a snack?”

“Me!” Soka screeches, bouncing in her seat. “Jan-Jan, snacktime!”

Anakin’s eyebrows climb up towards his hairline. “Well, seems like you’ve got a fan, Fett.”

“Shut up,” Jango grumbles, but he does go over and pick Soka out of her child seat, setting her on his hip and going in the direction of what Shmi assumes is the galley.

“You doin’ okay?” Anakin asks, carefully taking the seat next to her. He sits Ben up on his lap, but the baby has trouble staying in that position. Anakin takes his hands, letting tiny fists curl around his thumbs, to help him stay up.

“It’s a lot,” she says. “But I am happy to be free.”

He grins at her. “Glad to hear it. It’s a lot to adjust to, I know, but… I’m happy to have you with us.”

She nods, eyes on the baby that’s swaying from side to side as Anakin moves his hands, like a very, very small speeder pilot.

“Is he, um, yours?” Shmi asks. “Or did you adopt, like Soka?”

Anakin’s smile, so full of love, drops off. He presses his lips into a thin line, and for a moment, Shmi wonders if she’s made a horrible misstep.

“What… what do you know about Jedi relationships?” Anakin asks, voice quiet.

“Nothing,” she admits, but she’s not ashamed of that. Nobody knows much about the Jedi.

“Okay,” he says, more to himself than to her. “Okay, so… okay. There are a couple ranks in the Order. Younglings go in the crèche, communally raised in groups, and then when they’re five or so, they get to become Initiates. A few years later, usually between ten and fourteen, they can enter an apprenticeship to a Jedi Knight or Master, and the apprentice rank is Padawan. When the apprenticeship is done, they become Knights, basically journeymen, and at some point after that, Masters. There are positions that technically rank higher, councils and heads of divisions, and there’s stuff outside the apprenticeship system, like the service corps, but that’s not super relevant. It’s complicated but we’re only focusing on the apprenticeship path for knights.”

He hesitates, and then continues. “One of the ways to become a Master in the Order is to successfully raise a Padawan to knighthood. I was never an Initiate, because I came to the Order so much later than most. I immediately became a Padawan, and my master was freshly knighted. The relationship between master and padawan is… it’s family. Some of the more orthodox of the Order don’t like to put it in those words, but it really is.

“If I ever talk about my Master, just know I’m not talking about any of the owners I had before I was freed. I’m talking about the man who raised me, the man I saw as a father. He may not have seen me as a son, more a brother, but he was only sixteen years older than me, and… anyway. Jedi lineages are family. Your Master is a parent, or an older sibling, and your Padawan is a child to bring up as your own,” he finishes this off with the kind of deep, heavy breath that she thinks precedes grief. She can’t tell.

“My master is… well, he’s not in a position to teach anyone anything anymore. Ben here is all I have left of him.”

Oh.

Anakin doesn’t look at her, just stares down at the baby that’s gotten cranky again, and rearranges Ben to lie sideways in his arms. He smiles down as the baby burbles up at him, and tickles at the baby’s stomach. Ben grabs at Anakin’s fingers and kicks at the air, laughing in the manner of all children that small.

The man hums, and Shmi is more shocked than she should be to hear one of the lullabies she’s heard in slave quarters all her life.

“He’s your son now,” she says, more firmly than she feels. “He is yours to raise and care for, and I can tell you love him as much as any parent.”

Anakin lifts his head, staring at her like he can’t quite believe she’s there, and tears collect at the edges of his eyes.

“Thank you, Shmi Skywalker,” he says, and she feels like there’s more weight in those words than there should be. He licks his lips, eyes darting away for a second, and then asks, “do you want to hold him?”

She steels herself, and nods.

This is her family now.

Hers.

#Shmi Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #Jango Fett #star wars #time travel #de aging #parenting #childcare #baby characters #phoenix posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies #outside pov

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 4 years

Note

Hi! What is your very specific Twilight AU?

okay, so. New Moon.

party disaster, dumping her and dipping, all happens normally.

but THEN. Bella finds out she’s pregnant.

(and I know you’re thinking- pre-marital sex?!?! Edward would NEVER! but listen. I am the author now. I’ve been around Christians my whole life. shut up!)

so anyway after a million pregnancy tests and a lot of googling about vampire baby legends, Bella’s like...well this is probably gonna be a situation,

Nessie doesn’t have an insane growth rate here because I hate that, so she has a normal amount of time to prepare, and she’s very...aware that the birth is gonna be Rough at best. So she goes to Jacob

who is NOT a wolf yet but Is aware of the pack and the treaty, and they are closer friends already, and she’s like ‘hey. paranormal emergency. you’re the only person in this town who enables me. help.’

and Jacob’s like I’m Fucking Fifteen and goes and gets Leah, since she’s technically an adult and a girl

(ms. meyer How did you make one of leah’s only 3 character traits ‘upset she’s infertile’ and then not have her support bella’s choices in breaking dawn please make it make sense)

so they start brainstorming solutions and the best they can work with is. Bella’s gotta ride out the pregnancy in hiding. they have no way of knowing whether she can survive the pregnancy and the only clue they have about whether the baby will be a monster or not is from google searches, but they also can’t exactly take her to an obgyn when her uterus feels like it’s calcified and her ribs are getting broken and she seems to be craving blood

So, Leah’s got her own little place. Bella moves in there, telling Charlie she wants to move back in with Renee (she knows her parents would never willingly call each other so as long as she keeps up communicating with both of them they should be none the wiser of her growing a little dracula in Leah Clearwater’s basement).

Leah has already defected from the wolf pack at this point (because...the Cullen’s left and she didn’t really like any of the guys anyway lmao) so they don’t run the risk of them hearing her thoughts while she’s in wolf form. She goes out and hunts animals, brings them back and her and Jake drain the blood from them so Bella can drink it. All three of them find this extremely disgusting obviously but Jake’s loyal and a little bit lovestruck, Leah’s a supportive friend and queen, and Bella’s just trying to keep her and her baby alive, and none of them feel like trying to rob a blood bank

Bella is 100% certain the baby will just be a baby who happens to like blood, like she was in bd, but the tentative plan is that if a crazy soulless monster comes out of her Leah will...handle that...

Which neither are thrilled about, so Bella’s just trying to focus on staying positive. And between that, trying to survive and stay hidden, Bella doesn’t really have time to...Check Out the way she did in new moon. Like, she’s absolutely still depressed, and she’s still getting an occasional Edward hallucination because carrying a vampire baby counts as reckless in many books, but she’s just more...resigned and pissed than anything. She’ll have days like the ‘possibilities’ scene, but more often than not she’s just telling the Edward hallucination to go fuck himself when he’s begging her to find the real him so they can have Carlisle deal with the pregnancy

at some point, Seth gets roped into the whole mess (he’s prone to just breaking into his sister’s house) but since he’s like, 13 and The Best Baby Boy he’s immediately supportive. He didn’t even fucking know about the wolves and the vampires until he walked in on a six months pregnant Bella drinking blood while his sister and Jacob are hacking away at a dead deer, but he’s like...you know when you were 13 and sneaking around about Anything made you feel like the coolest person alive? point is he’s helpful

AND he can get away with spending a lot of time at Leah’s house without anyone finding it weird, unlike Jacob, so he starts spending most of his free time there keeping Bella company and brightening her day up

HE is the one who enables her when she comes up with the name Renesmee lmao

(just because she hates Edward doesn’t mean Esme ever did anything wrong!)

“bella I’ll throw you out of this house if you don’t come up with a real name” “leah she’s white you can’t just disrespect her culture like this omg”

anyway these four become the DORKIEST and WEIRDEST little family it’s cute

so then. labor.

it’s less...graphic than in bd because Bella hasn’t been actively dying the whole pregnancy and she doesn’t snap her spine in half, but it’s still. bad.

she essentially delivers a rock that Nessie then begins chewing her way out of. she’s actively bleeding out. Jacob’s having a panic attack. Leah made Seth watch so he would never have unprotected sex and the scare tactic is working. Leah’s covered in Bella’s blood which is not great considering she’s Holding A Rock That A Vampire Is Emerging From

Leah’s been taking classes and researching deliveries so she needs to stitch Bella up and see what else is wrong but Seth is rocking back and forth on the floor crying and Jacob’s screaming and pacing too fast to grab so she’s like. Bella babe I know you’re dying but you need to hold this thing for me ksjdfllksf

so while she’s handling That, Bella’s got this weird little rock in her arms and is watching the baby slowly fight it’s way out like this is a very fucked up egg or something and she’s just. overwhelmed. maybe it’s the blood loss but she’s looking at the messy, scrunchy little face and she’s already in love and envisioning their lives together.

and then, you know, the baby bites her,

she has just enough time to think ‘how did we not think to prepare for that’ before she can feel the venom coursing through her. it’s just as bad as she remembers from James’ bite but somehow...easier to tolerate. she blacks out pretty quickly

the other 3 notice and are like : 👁👄👁

Jacob...literally explodes into a wolf On Spot

Seth darts out the fucking door he’s seen enough for one day

Leah, sole holder of the braincell, realizes Nessie just bit and isn’t drinking from Bella, and deduces this is like...a survival instinct or something. the baby instinctively changes it’s mother first thing. weirdly...touching?

So she gets the baby and checks that everything is physically okay with Bella (apart from you know. changing species) and is like...guess this is an issue for 3 days from now Leah

more immediate pressing issues: screaming new born baby and oh, yeah, the giant red wolf in the basement,

“Jacob I know this is disorienting but if you break anything in my house I’ll fucking kill you”

she really just leaves the poor boy to go get the baby cleaned up and warm up some of the frozen blood they’ve got in her fridge (RUINING HER TUPPERWARE, BELLA)

she’s not worried about the wolf pack mind meld yet because she knows Sam took the guys on a mission way farther up the coast for a few days and they’ll be too far away to hear Jake. hopefully, by the time they get back, Bella will be awake and they’ll have made an escape plan by then

and as she’s bottle feeding blood to the baby she’s thrilled that it seems to be like...relatively normal and not s horrific monster or anything. mission: unwillingly murder my best friend’s baby has been successfully canceled

“Oh Goddamn it....Renesmee DOES fit you...”

Seth, from where he’s cowering behind the couch: “told you”

so, Jake eventually calms down, they spend the next few days cooing over Nessie and brainstorming how to handle Bella when she wakes up a vampire, and also nicknaming Nessie ‘Nessie’ because they know Bella will find that intolerable and they feel she deserves karmic punishment for stressing them out so much lmao

so, three days are up. Seth’s upstairs putting on a way-too-elaborate puppet show for the baby with not a care in the world. Leah and Jake are in the basement because they know Bella probably won’t want their wolf blood and their ready to phase in case she gets a little aggressive

but she just wakes up and is like. hey! how’s it going? where’s my baby?

sjdhfksdj they were expecting feral but Bella still has her super self-control. she didn’t even realize she’d changed into a vampire until they told her lmao

Bella’s a little too freaked out to try hunting yet so they give her some of the stored blood they’ve been feeding Ness and she’s like. good to go. Leah’s about to scream like have the elders been exaggerating this whole time or is Bella truly a freak??? lol

So, they spend a couple days just...relaxing, Bella and Renesmee bonding, they’re trying to come up with fun places Bella can move to with the baby so no one she knows finds out, and every now and then Leah and Jake go out and she tries to help him get the wolf thing under control

and then,,,,the pack get back from their mission early

and immediately are able to read Jacob’s mind

so they head over to Start Shit because there’s two bloodsuckers on their land but,

the pack not attacking because Jake imprinted on Renesmee? tired. the pack not attacking because Jake’s Alpha Genes have taken over and declared Nessie and Bella as part of his Pack and attacking would literally start a war? inspired

so they hash the whole thing out....ultimately Sam decides Bella is more of a victim than a threat, and since neither her or Nessie seem to be going on a bloodlust rampage any time soon...he decides to grant them immunity from the whole ‘kill the vampires’ rule. He’ll let her and her daughter stay in La Push as long as they agree to stick to animals and only hunt out of town. PLUS from what little Bella knows about the Volturi, she’s worried about them finding out about Nessie, so they’ll offer protection if that does happen, in exchange for her being able to help them with intel on any other vampire threats in the area (you know like. if a nomad is fucking stuff up in a nearby city, they’ll send her to talk to them first before deciding if they need to intervene. Sam has become acutely aware he has a lot of teens and kids in his pack, so he’s trying to keep them out of fights as much as possible)

anyway that’s the story of Nessie gaining like 17 chaotic as hell ride or die uncles,

let’s fast forward a bit

it’s like 15 years later. Bella’s not living with Leah anymore, but she’s got a cute apartment in a nearby town, and owns and runs a bookstore on the first floor of it. she got her ged and did college online and teaches night classes at a community college. She’s still in contact with her parents, who Adore the life out of Nessie. She still helps the pack out and they’re all close. Nessie is a handful but in a fun and lovable way. They go on little weekend trips whenever they have time. Bella’s happy.

but then a. Situation. arises.

basically, the Volturi have been made aware of some unknown vampire chasing others out of the pacific northwest and conspiring with shapeshifters. and you know when Aro gets curious he tends to spin things dramatically. who’s to say this vampire isn’t conspiring against all vampires? against them? why has no one’s special talents worked on her? he simply must find out.

Bella and the Pack get word and decide their best course of action for now is to go on the run. they’re not gonna be able to take on a whole army but if they can bide some time and lay low they might be able to figure something out

except Bella is like....I have a teenage hybrid that the Volturi don’t know about yet...it would be EXTREMELY irresponsible to take her with me

but she can’t send Nessie to Charlie or Renee because they don’t know about her...dietary restrictions. She can’t stay with Billy or anyone else in La Push because the Volturi might trace the pack’s scent there and discover her. She’s panicking, they have to leave in a few days max and she can’t find a safe place for her daughter

and then she’s like.....fuck.

she had run into Jasper a couple of years ago- they have the same forgery guy and were heading to his building around the same time as a coincidence. She promised to forgive him for the party incident if he promised not to tell Edward he saw her and that she’s a vampire now. He agreed, but then told her Edward’s been living on his own for a while now and insisted on giving her his number...she never could bring herself to call it or delete it...but now...if she wants to be 100% Nessie is safe and protected...

fuck

So, the past 15 years have been fairly rough for Edward

he’s still convinced leaving in order to save Bella was the best course of action, but like...the vampires canonically mate for life. that’s his soulmate. he’s absolutely miserable without her. he’s thought about cracking and going to find her again but he always talks himself out of it, convinced she’d just tell him she hates him or something

so as stated in his patented Edward Cullen Self Loathing Guide, first thing to do is isolate yourself from all the lovebirds you usually live with. Sure, he keeps in contact, but...not well. he’s currently living alone and posing as a university student. He’s not even really sure what he’s supposed to be majoring in. He’s mostly been in a haze since he left Forks.

and one day....he gets a call from an unknown number. he ignores it, thinking it’s a spam call. but then it calls like 8 more times in a row and he figures answering might be a bit smarter than simply throwing it at the wall

And Edward...swears he came back to life and immediately had a heart attack the second he hears Bella’s voice

He feels breathless and disoriented the whole conversation, trying to figure out if his memory did her voice any justice, trying to rush out 15 years worth of apologies, trying to comprehend she’s actually speaking to him.

But Bella’s very blunt on the phone. She doesn’t want to let herself get emotional. She’s on a time limit, and she has to focus on getting her daughter to safety

And Edward swears he somehow misheard her the first ten or so times she told him. He had a daughter? that wasn’t possible

“she has the audacity to be your Evil Twin so I’m pretty sure it’s possible”

so she gives him a rundown. she needs to go into hiding, no I don’t need your help with that, gives him details about Nessie, what she’s like, what she likes to do, her diet, her favorite color, how annoyed she is by this whole situation, “Edward I know you don’t love me anymore, but I remember how protective you were, and that’s what I need Nessie to have right now. She needs you right now” and Edward wants so badly to refute Bella’s claim of lost love, to tell her he has absolutely no idea how to be a parent, but...her tone is aching so much he can barely speak. He can’t let Bella down again, and he can’t let this little girl he foolishly created and left down anymore than he already has, either.

So he agrees, she tells him to be at the airport in a few days, and hangs up.

Edward loses about half a day staring at a wall in shock, before he jumps into preparations.

Bella told him while their daughter possessed some speed and strength, hunting was fairly dangerous for her. She was more delicate than his kind, and had a heartbeat. Reheated blood bags had been their best option, and she also needed human food as well. He also had to get a room ready for her- he wandered around stores for hours, reading young girls minds to see if there was any furniture or decorations that were universally liked- which was of course, fruitless, but he did manage to find a handful of things he was sure Bella would have liked at that age, and prayed for the best. He somehow got himself covered in purple paint that was a nightmare to get off. Bella had sent him some forged documents claiming Nessie was his younger sister he’d won custody of, and he got her enrolled in a nearby school. He lived every day leading up to her arrival staving off a panic attack.

it wasn’t until he was on the way to the airport that he realized he forgot to inform his family about this life update. they must’ve been on a hunting trip, because he got nothing but voicemails

imagine being Carlisle and you come home to a voicemail from your son who’s banished himself from the family that’s just like ‘hi. you’re a grandfather now. I’m having a nervous breakdown and might crash my car. call me back at your earliest convenience I suppose” like what would you DO

after he gets to the airport he starts panicking again, realizing Bella had never actually sent him a picture, worrying about how he’d find her, but then- he sees a tiny girl with untamed, dark red curls, features strikingly similar to his own that are pulled into the expression Bella always made when she was reading, absently chewing on her lip, and before she looks at him with her mother’s big brown eyes, he already knows who he’s looking at, and he’s certain if he was human his tear ducts would be having a fit right now

Renesmee, however, seems less willing to have an emotional meeting. She mumbles out a simple greeting before gathering up her bags and heading for the door, Edward rushing behind her to try and help

listen. the awkwardness of Charlie trying to connect with Bella. but 10000x worse because of Edward’s overthinking, self-deprecating ass and Nessie being like ‘ah yes the guy who broke my pregnant teenage mothers heart, fantastic’ lmao

the car ride is p a i n f u l. Edward’s trying so hard for light conversation and Nessie’s barely giving one word answers. Bella had warned her about the mind reading so she was carefully keeping her mind blocked, which Edward is trying very hard to be understanding about instead of annoyed, but By God does he want to know everything about her

when they get back to his place, she quietly thanks him for the room and then promptly locks him out of it lol. He spends the rest of the day just pacing back and forth until he realizes he should eventually feed her lmao

and that’s...kinda how the first couple weeks go. she only emerges from her room if he bribes her with food, she awkwardly tries to dodge his questions, he drives her to school and then begs her to tell him how it went when he picks her up, he spends his college classes distracted because he’s freaking out constantly about how to successfully bond with her. His favorite time of day now is night, because she can’t block her mind while she’s asleep, and even if her dreams are all nonsense they’re still...part of her that he gets to know.

His family keeps begging him to let them meet her, but he’s pushing back because if she’s this bad at adjusting to one new family member, how is she going to handle six more?

(meanwhile Alice and Rose started a group chat with her and are having a ball clowning Edward lmao)

wait ksjflksd I think this vine perfectly sums up the dynamic im envisioning https://youtu.be/wQZIUHNORHg

anyway they....very slowly make some progress. much too slowly for Edward’s taste, but hey.

Like he finds out snacks she likes. or jewelry she likes. stuff like that and just...wordlessly leaves it around for her lmao. he thinks it’s like trying not to startle a deer, Nessie thinks it’s more like a cat trying to gift you a dead mouse, but either way it’s weirdly endearing.

He notices she always has a huffy little frown when he picks her up on Wednesdays. So instead of begging her for an ounce of information of her school life, he asks her one Wednesday morning if she’s excited for the day and she admits she has an elective class every Wednesday with a girl she doesn’t get along with.

He gets her school photos (and Weeps) and realizes apart from her room the home is fairly barren of decorations, so he buys a bunch of picture frames and hangs up the school shots, and some pictures of the Cullen’s over the years, and the few he has of Bella that he could never bear to part with. Other than catching her smiling at the prom picture of her parents, Nessie doesn’t say anything- but the next time he comes home from hunting, there’s a pile of pictures of her growing up on the table, and he starts weeping all over again as he hangs them up

(there’s one of her and Bella hugging and looking at the camera with identical grins and joy in their eyes, he can’t help but put that in his room. He hopes one day he’ll get to see a scene like that in person)

He starts trying to get her out of her room a little more- he still hasn’t managed to a get a ‘favorites’ list out of her, so he starts playing movies Bella loved, to see if any of them lure her out. some do, some don’t- he got halfway through a Lord of the Rings marathon, which was Torture in his opinion, but then Ness came out and quietly asked if he could restart it and suddenly they became his favorite movies ever.

Bella’s not able to contact her on a set schedule or anything because of her situation (and you can bet your ass Edward’s contacted every vampire he knows and ordered them to help her out if they come across her or the Volturi), and Edward realizes that’s probably taking a toll on the girl, so he starts telling her stories of her mother when he knew her in Forks. She’s particularly amused by the blood typing incident- the first time Edward hears Nessie properly laugh, he literally starts crying on the spot

could you imagine the sheer panic if she ever gets so much as a cold

And yes, she’s still pissed on Bella’s behalf, and yes, she specifically blasts 70s music because Bella told her he hates it one time, and yes, if he looks at her like he’s a kicked puppy one more time she might claw his eyes out, and yes, she refuses to introduce him to her friends from school because she Knows everyone will then start asking her about her ‘hot brother’ and she can’t live with that and also can’t live with him knowing that so she told him if he ever introduces himself to any of her friends she’ll set him on fire, and yes, she’s homesick 95% of the time but...he’s growing on her. like a mold, or something.

(okay, maybe when Seth tried to analyze why Mamma Mia is her favorite musical, he might have had a point. half a point. quarter of a point. shut up.)

And Edward’s still trying to not have a panic attack every time she’s out of his sight- he’s got Carlisle keeping tabs on the Volturi for him, and it’s not exactly hard for him to keep track of her through other people’s minds- but she’s so tiny and her heartbeat is Too Fast and what if she inherited her mother’s unlucky streak??

but they’re toeing the line of co-existing peacefully and Edward’s scared to push it past that

then he has to, because it turns out he sent her to one of Those Schools where the parents have to be involved in the school in some way or another and Nessie’s Annoyed

sdkjfsdkjf she keeps trying to get him to just sign up for like pta meetings or something and he’s like ‘I need you to understand you are the only person in this town I actually know or like I Cannot survive around fundraiser moms I can’t’

so she’s like ugh fine I’m in the drama club

listen.....Stage Parent Edward Cullen.......the power this holds...

that’s right this whole post was an elaborate ruse for me to make a musical theater headcanon again lmao

no okay but seriously he starts off just helping build sets and stuff like that but then midway through the year their music teacher gets fired and the schools like begging him to take over because they can’t find someone in enough time that’ll know the music for the show they’re doing and he’s like “I need you to understand Nessie will never talk to me again if I start actually working at her school” and they’re like “She also will never talk to you again if we have to cancel the big musical, though” and he’s like. fuck.

silent treatment for a week and a half

lmao so now he’s trying to juggle being an overly-enthusiastic stage parent who’s making costumes and sets and kinda crying backstage when he sees his daughter in her costume with also being the music director for the damn show and trying to teach a bunch of kids how to read sheet music

one day he ended up in a coffee shop with the hair and makeup moms, gossiping about the cast’s love lives, and he literally doesn’t know how he got there

is it wrong to pass Nessie in class even though she’s putting all the wrong answers on the test but he Knows she knows the right answers and is only answering wrong to try and get a rise out of him

Bella sneaks into town to see the show- they thought it would push their luck if the pack came, but they sent an ungodly amount of flowers and candy. When she snuck into the house while Ness was sleeping she Was Not expecting to find Edward up to his elbows in sequins, trying to fix a bedazzler he accidentally broke in frustration, muttering under his breath about how if Nessie’s romantic opposite in the show doesn’t keep his thoughts clean he’s gonna kill him- and it just cracks her up. She WAS nervous about seeing Edward again but now she’s assured he’s still a dork lol

So Edward freaks when he sees her but they don’t wanna wake Ness up so they’re trying to be quiet but like. they’re going through it

Like Bella Wants to be pissed at him but she can’t, she still loves him- and while she can’t just get over what he did to her, it’s also not lost on her that ‘leaving to protect someone I love’ is literally what she had to do to her daughter

And Edward....Edward, who only left to give Bella a chance at a safe, human life, seeing Bella in front of him as a vampire, knowing it’s his fault she ended up that way and she had to go through it alone, had to raise a baby herself because he’d made it so hard to find him...knowing if he’d just pulled his head out of his ass he would have been able to be there for her...would be able to form a coherent sentence around his love right now, would have long and fond memories of Nessie’s childhood, likely wouldn’t have to watch Bella hide from the Volturi...he’s back in a self-loathing spiral already

But they haven’t seen each other in so long and they just don’t want to...deal with the unpleasantness right now, so they just push it aside. Bella helps Edward with the costumes. Edward fills her in on what she’s been missing with Nessie. Bella tells him some stuff about when Ness was younger. They just spend the night talking, and it feels like no time has past between them at all- which just makes the heartaches a little stronger

When Nessie wakes up to her mother there she’s ecstatic- bubbly and loud and glued to Bella’s hip all day, giving her in depth play-by-plays of her school and rehearsals and friends she’s made, bouncing on her toes all morning, hyper, giggly, and- it kind of breaks Edward’s heart a little, even though he knows he hasn’t really...earned this side of his daughter, yet.

(at least he got his wish of seeing their twin smiles in person)

(he wishes he could see them every second of every day)

so the girls spend the day catching up while Edward mostly feels like a thirdwheel, and then they have to get Ness over to the school so she can get ready

Bella decides to hang out around the school theater before the show actually starts- she leans against the wall next to the piano, the two talking in hushed tones while Edward runs through songs. Bella really missed watching him play- the only thing that managed to drag her away from it was when Nessie called her to the dressing room to help with a hair emergency

she didn’t talk to him much at intermission, her attention being stolen by the rest of the Cullen family (who had been Very Loudly supporting the show so far, she knew Ness was probably dying of embarrassment backstage)

after the show, the three went back to Edward’s and just...talked. Nessie was gushing about the show and eating while her parents assured her she was the greatest actress ever born, simple stuff like that. she fell asleep sandwiched in between them on the couch

Bella realizes she’s never going to be able to bring herself to leave again if Nessie wakes up, and tells Edward as much. He clearly doesn’t want her to go just yet either, but...she’s on the run, it’s not like she has much choice

He has so much he wants to say to her but he just- can’t. it’s not the right time. but he’s hoping she can see that in his eyes

Bella shifts Nessie off her shoulder so Edward can hold her, and she gives him a light kiss and says ‘thank you, Edward’ before disappearing in a flash. she needed to go before she lost her nerve.

Edward can’t bring himself to let Nessie out of his arms, so instead of carrying her to bed he just stays there, holding her, trying his best not to think that that could be the last time for a long time he’d ever see his Bella again, trying not to let thoughts of a life he gave up unwittingly consume him

okay I didn’t mean for this to be So Long so I’m cutting it here uhh...let me know if anyone wants a part 2? sorry lmao

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #edbella #twilight saga #asks #molly mumbles #elephantlovingmouse

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Text

hi! please do not talk to me! i am just as disappointed in myself as you are!

arrangement - naoya x fem!reader (3.7k)

warnings: naoya is just an asshole lmao, misogyny, arranged marriage mentions, degradation, humiliation, spitting, unhealthy ‘relationship’. afab reader, fem pronouns

despite your clan elders’ best intentions, you are clearly not a good match for someone as well placed in the world as naoya. still. that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun with you.

You should have known that it was a fruitless endeavour.

No matter how nicely your hair might be set and your clothes might be chosen, how intricately and carefully your makeup applied – how pretty your manners might be . . . This was never going to go anywhere. Oh, your elders might have thought this was a good idea, and sure it would be – if it were possible. If your clan wasn’t hanging on by the skin of its teeth already. If you’d been blessed – if that was the right way to put it – with more cursed energy than you had been.

But you were not. It had been clear to you the moment you had been – cordially, politely – introduced to him. You hadn’t looked him in the eye – you’d been briefed on what he was like enough to know that – but you’d still sensed the flickering of his gaze over your form. You’d still seen the curve of his mouth into a cruel sneer.

“What a pity,” he’d said, tone not belying an ounce of the pity he mentioned. “I’m far too busy for acts of charity.”

You should have left it at that. You should have accepted it was not to be and went back to your own clan with your tail between your legs, just another failure – or perhaps, you should have looked up into his eyes and spat at him and insisted you were worth more than that. If you had been braver, if you had talked back--

But you do not. Inside, you are meek and quiet. You are cowed by what you know is the power that is at his fingertips, not just physically but also in the sheer luck of having been born as he was born. You duck your head. You feel your cheeks warm. Something about the sneer on his face, the mocking tone . . . sends a curl of heat right to the centre of your belly that you desperately try to ignore.

Tripping over your words, you apologise to him.

For wasting his time.

And it’s that which sets these particular events in motion.

Naoya sees how easily you bend under just his words and the weight of his gaze on you – and though, of course, you are not fit to be his wife the way that your clan elders clearly wanted you to be . . . he likes the idea of your eyes, downturned on the floor. He likes the idea of you on your knees before him. He likes the idea of being able to throw you around, and you, deferential as you take it.

No, even though you would walk three steps behind him and be behest to his whims, you lack the impressive lineage and the splendour of a great union that Naoya is looking for in a wife. But that does not mean, he thinks, as he watches you leave, his eyes following the suggestive curve of your body beneath the layers of fabric, that he cannot have a little fun with you first.

You come to his rooms without an ounce of hesitation. You must know, surely – after the way he treated you at your introduction – that he has no pure intentions. Certainly, the servants milling about his estate know as you’re shown to where he wants you.

Good. Your eager acquiescence just cements the fact to him that he has made the right decision; you will be weak-willed and desperate to please, and though he has no intentions of honour when it comes to what he’s going to do to you, he knows you will do it anyway.

“You came,” he says to you, as you stand across the room, where he’s lounging, entirely at ease, against the pillows on his bed. Your entire body fizzes. You know you should not be here.

(There is something about him that your body cannot deny.)

“I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a whore.” You flinch at the word, though that strange curl of heat returns to your middle. You fight it off as best you can. He sees how you swallow, the way you respond to the name – and he is smirking again, rising from the pillows, walking over to you with all of the grace of a predator. His fingertips reach out, tracing the line of your chin (your skin is pleasingly soft beneath them). “That’s what you are, right? Your clan elders sent you here to see if that’s what you’d be for me.”

He tips up your face. It’s the first time that your eyes have been anywhere near his, and he’s delighted to see the flair of panic and confusion in your gaze. Cute.

“That’s not—” You say, your voice very dry. You struggle with the words, knowing despite yourself that part of him must be right – if you were not, surely it wouldn’t have been as simple as him summoning you and you going there--

“You can’t honestly think you’d have made me a wife, hmm?” He lowers his head, too close to you – your entire body feels like it’s thrumming with energy, buzzing with unrestrained tension. “You’re pathetic.” The word is practically a purr, and your body responds in kind – Naoya, seeing how your eyes cloud over, how you have to stop yourself biting your lip, is delighted.

“I-I’m sorry,” you say, desperate, miserable. You don’t understand why your thighs feel slick and your legs feel shaky, or why your head seems to have clouded over with thoughts that refuse to take proper shape.

“Aww.” His thumb slides across your lip – and you find yourself opening your mouth without meaning to, letting him slide the tip of his thumb in and press down on your tongue. “That’s right. You’re cuter when you don’t talk.”

You don’t say anything. You’re not sure you could, anyway – not with how dry your throat feels. Naoya clicks his tongue.

“Suck it, then,” he tells you, with the air of an impatient man giving orders to a puppy dog. You suppose that’s what you are, really – because you do close your lips, and you do lathe your tongue across the pad of his thumb. He’s still smirking at you, damnably attractive if only for the air of self-assured cockiness. “You’ll want to get used to having something in your mouth.”

His other hand comes up and pushes the kimono you’re wearing (too formal of a kind, really – but your clan elders had wanted to show deference to the Zenins, and they had hoped that perhaps you would be meeting your future husband, and everybody knew that Naoya would prefer a traditional young bride--) to one side, exposing too much of your collarbone and chest.

“Not bad,” he tells you. “Not good enough for me, of course but . . . you’ll do for this.”

You hate that you know what ‘this’ is. You hate that you have no protest to give as he pulls his thumb out of your mouth and turns his back on you.

“Take them off,” he tells you. “Be quick about it. I don’t have all day. Women can be so slow.”

Your hands are shaking as you go to untie your obi. Your self-preservation instinct is telling you to run. Naoya stops where he is and turns his head, his lips still tilted as he sees you’re doing as he asked. Oh, but you’re fun – he feels like a cat playing with a mouse.

“Hurry. Up.” It’s a snap, all pretence – he’s rather enjoying the shaking and the trembling. He can’t help but look at you hungrily as the fabric pools about your ankles in your clumsy undressing. “Before I change my mind, and send you back out into the estate like that.”

Why are you still doing what he asks? You finish undressing and shiver in the cool air, standing there, waiting for whatever he’s going to tell you to do next.

He reaches the bed and turns, sitting on it. He’s entirely casual about the whole thing, his elbows resting on his knees as he steeples his hands together and just looks at you. You burn under his gaze.

“Yes,” he repeats. “You’ll do. Come here--”

You take a step forward, only to stop as he holds up his hand. He takes the patient tone of a man talking to an animal once more.

“Not like that. Think about it, come on. Your head is above mine. That’s not very respectful of you, is it?”

He swathes the words in velvet, making them sound like a question – but you can hear the steel inside of them. The order. He doesn’t need to tell you twice, before you’re sinking onto your knees with your throat dry. Your thighs press together, slick friction making you shiver as you crawl towards Naoya. He tips his head to one side and smiles coldly as if his smile is a reward.

(He watches the way your ass moves as you crawl. He can hear your laboured breathing in the quiet room. In the low glint of the light, he can see the hint of wetness between your thighs.)

You’re so eager to please, even knowing that Naoya is going to use you and discard you. Just as you should be. You feel lucky he’s giving you the briefest time of day.

“Stop,” he says, and you jump to his command as if it’s law. Perfect. He takes a handful of your hair and drags it, pulling you forward so that your face is close to the stiffness that you probably can’t tell he’s sporting through the loose fit of his hakama. He jerks your face so that it rubs against his thigh through the fabric. “Well?”

The bob of your throat as you swallow. You look up at him with your eyes filled with confusion.

“As much as the position suits you,” he says, tone clipped, “are you so stupid you don’t know what I want you to do?”

Oh. Oh.

You are still on your hands and knees. You go to bring one of your hands towards the ties and are stopped with a ‘tch’ of impatience, Naoya kicking at it and trapping it beneath his foot on the floor, with little care about how you wince. He doesn’t hold back his strength.

“You’re going to touch me with that after it’s been all over the filthy floor?” He asks, arching one thin eyebrow. “I don’t think so. If you’re going to be as gormless as an animal, you may as well act like one. Your cheek.”

Heat floods your cheeks once more as you realise what he wants. By now, the strange feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making you wet has become all encompassing, not at all helped by the friction of your thighs or the way that Naoya is talking down to you. You should not be turned on by it. You should be disgusted by him, glad he doesn’t want you as a wife--

So why do you let out a soft whimper as you lean your cheek forward like a docile animal. It presses against something hot and hard, obvious even through the fabric. You don’t let yourself look at him, embarrassed by how easily you let him tell you what to do – if you were looking, perhaps you’d have seen the brief way his teeth dug into bottom lip, seen the softest exhale of his breath. (It’s better you didn’t. He does not like to show weakness.)

He lets you nuzzle against his cock for a few moments, enjoying the sight of you on your knees, your head bowed – but it is not enough for him. Not when he knows you’ll let him do whatever you want.

The hand still in your hair drags you back unfeelingly, letting go of you on the back swing. You almost overbalance – but you have been well-trained in the art of grace. That would have been something he’d have looked for in a wife, if you had been better placed.

Almost a pity, really.

“I’d ask you to undo it,” he says, as he goes to untie his own complicated knots. “But you’re shaking. Are you that eager to suck my cock? Slut.”

He’s right, you are and you are and you are--

There. There’s no going back for you now, as Naoya lets the hakama drop and then rests back on his hands, unconcerned, as if this kind of thing happens for him every day. Hell, for him, maybe it does – surely you’re not the first poor young woman who has been sent by people more powerful than her to try and please the Zenin clan. For some reason, the thought that you’re not the first, that you’re not special, makes another ricochet of heat twist low between your thighs.

“Well?” He asks, mockingly. “It’s not going to suck itself.”

You’re shaking as you approach it, opening your mouth.

“Not too much teeth, now,” he says lightly. “You don’t want to see me get angry.”

(Maybe you do? But you want to please him just as much, so you open your mouth wider, try and let your lips relax--)

He lets out a sigh as your mouth engulfs the head. He tastes salty and musky – you do not have anything to compare it to, but it’s not exactly unpleasant. You experimentally lick across the head of his cock, where the slit is leaking pre-come – and for that, you win a fluid hiss of pleasure. The idea that you’re pleasing him makes you squeeze your thighs together in search of stimulation and friction, a dull jolt of pleasant warmth spreading through your sex. Oh, you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life.

“More of your tongue,” he says to you, and you do your level best to accommodate – your tongue lapping at the veins of his shaft, travelling along the underside. Your jaw feels stretched wide, and you know you are drooling a little. You shift on your knees without being asked to, taking him further down your throat – you sense a twitch in his cock, the slight relaxing of the muscles in his thighs, and a shiver of pleasure runs through you at the idea that he is enjoying what you’re doing.

Pleasing Naoya suddenly seems the most important thing in the world to you – and certainly it feels the most important thing in the world to that emptiness inside you that you feel sure would be filled perfectly by Naoya’s cock. You take him further and further. You hum low in the back of your throat and Naoya’s fist on the bed flexes – you delight in it.

Every time you do something that makes his body respond in even the smallest of ways, you feel a full body thrill run through you that starts in your cheeks and makes it’s way to the junction between your legs, soaking you, making you vibrate and twitch with need. You have never felt so hungry for anything as you do the idea of Naoya touching you--

The crown of his cock bumps against the back of your throat, making you gurgle wetly – tears springing to your eyes at just how much of him is stuffed in your mouth. It’s this that finally spurs Naoya himself to action, once more returning to grabbing at your hair.

His hips begin to piston, thrusting his cock in and out.

“You’re . . .” He breathes, in between great pumps of his hips. “Almost good at that.”

(It’s the closest he’s come to praise so far and the sound of his voice, thick with hunger and lust, is locked away inside some secret part of your mind – you know you will not be able to touch yourself without his voice, the hitch of his groans, coming back to you in a cadence finer than any music you’ve ever heard).

He uses your mouth like he’d use his own fist, pumping fast and hard, his cock kissing the back of your throat with every glide. His breath begins to get shorter, and as you feel the flesh of the shaft twitch beneath your tongue, pulsating, you ready yourself for the salty rush of his release coating your mouth. You’ll swallow everything he gives you, maybe he will call you a good girl for your troubles--

He doesn’t. The hand wrapped around your hair (so neatly arranged, when you’d arrived at the estate – now, a mass of tangles, nothing more than a handle for Naoya to grab onto) jerks.

You cough at the sudden tug. You know he was close, you felt it – so why had he pulled you off of him? The noise that escapes you is half wounded-animal, half confusion – Naoya is sneering down at you, his hand around the base of his cock.

“Open your mouth,” he tells you – and you obey. You want him to come in your mouth! You want to be good for him, you want to swallow down every drop. “Do you really think you deserve to taste my seed? When you’re so . . . inferior, in every way? So . . . inadequate?”

“Please,” you whimper, through the haze of neediness and the ache in your jaw. “Please, I want to, I’ll be good--”

“You’d take anything I gave you, wouldn’t you? You really are pathetic.” You nod, frantically – if you agree with him, maybe he’ll do something about this all, you’re too far gone to have anything close to rational thought. He laughs at you, a sound like a bark – and then, he’s spitting directly onto your mouth, the mess landing on your tongue. “Swallow it.”

Disgusting, you’re disgusting, why isn’t the way he’s acting doing a thing to dampen your desire? You swallow.

The curl of his lip is unfairly attractive. You think he’ll pull you even closer to him, make you open your mouth again and come directly down your throat until you’re coughing all over the floor – but he doesn’t. He moves his hand, pumping his cock – and then, he’s coming, his shaft twitching in his own grip--

And his come spurting across your face, painting your cheeks. You close one of your eyes to stop it getting in there, but it’s a feeble task – you feel it on your face, dripping down your nose, you know some of it has gotten into your hair. Through the one eye still open, you see Naoya’s smug face.

“Did you really think I’d come in your mouth?” He asks, all cruelty. “You don’t deserve to have my seed inside you. In fact . . . Hmm.” He relaxes, looking at you where you’re a mess on the floor. Your kimono and all the ephemera of what you were wearing lies in a discarded pile across the room where you’d taken them off. “You can put on your clothes, I suppose. But . . . don’t clean yourself up. Not even with your sleeve. You should be proud a nothing like you gets to wear it.”

He flaps his hand at you, clearly dismissing you.

“I—I--”

Your voice sounds cracked and strained and small in the room. Pathetic. Just like you. But more pathetic is the heat that seems to cling to every inch of your skin that you know will not go away until you’re touched.

“You . . . you . . . you what?” He mocks you. Your face, all heat, your big blown out eyes darkened by lust . . . He narrows his eyes and smiles, but it’s a smile that’s utterly mirthless, cold as dawn frost. “I’m not going to lower myself to touching you.”

(You think you were expecting it; but still, your sex clenches around emptiness, practically pulsating as he derides you again. Perhaps you are a glutton for punishment.)

You bow your head. You know, if you stand up, Naoya will say something about your head being above his again – so you stay on your knees, crawling towards the pile of clothes. Naoya is drawn once more to the way the slick is dripping down your thighs, the inviting slit of your sex--

“You’re so wet I can see it from here,” he jeers. “Disgusting. You really are a slut, huh?”

Your fingers fumble with the fine fabrics. If your clan elders knew how you had left your formalwear here, on the floor of his room--

You tie the knots. You cannot do anything about the mess on your face, drying too quickly, sticky and uncomfortable – but part of you wants to wear it like a badge of honour.

You finally let yourself stand up, stopped only by a mocking little sing-song of your name, the mocking inflection of the cute honorific at the end that he shouldn’t be using for you--

You turn to him for the final time, too embarrassed, too wet, too hot and aching to meet his eyes. You concentrate on his mouth instead (you know that mouth will haunt your daydreams, blanket quiet night-times when your hands delve between your legs and you have to bite your lip to stifle your sounds.)

“Perhaps,” he says, with the air of a man bestowing a great honour, “perhaps your clan elders need not know I’ve rejected you yet.” A brief flare of hope in your chest, that he sees and takes a fierce, primal kind of pleasure in snuffing out. “Oh, don’t get me wrong – I’ve no intention of lowering myself to marrying you. But . . .”

That grin, barbaric, cruel, cold, heartless.

“It’s only proper for a man of my stature to have a mistress,” he tells you. The idea should disgust you. Why doesn’t it? You need to find a quiet place to hide in the Zenin estate, where you will not be interrupted – where you can press your fingers inside of yourself and imagine they are his. He takes great pleasure in adding; “And I like a woman who knows her place.”

One more flap of his hand – this time, a final dismissal.

“I’ll see you again,” he says, as you slip out of the door--

It sounds like a threat.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #naoya x reader #zenin naoya x reader #not sfw #jjk imagines #i dont fucking know whats wrong with me OR this reader honestly #writing #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk posting #jjk writing tag

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dingdongitsbees · 3 years

Text

Gojo is a strong person | Gojo x gn!reader oneshot (Angst)

Synopsis: Gojo is the strongest, that was an agreed upon fact, or at least he thought it was until he met you.

The first time you had laid eyes upon him, you laughed.

“This is almighty Gojo Satoru, huh?”

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WC: 3k Tw: canon typical violence, death Just send an ask to be added to Gojo taglist! (specify if you don’t want angst etc)

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Gojo Satoru is a strong person, that’s what everyone knew. That fact was known by every shaman that had had their first breath and by anyone that laid their eyes on him, even if only for a split moment in the bustling crowds of Tokyo. It was a fact that the man knew himself, it could hardly be called egotistical if it was simply the truth that he was the strongest, though he toed the line of cocky so much that he had fully passed its threshold far before he even attended school. But his parents and his clan and the servants that worked there never gave him anything else to think.

He was better than them by the time he had first opened his eyes. He was a man whose mere existence disrupted the world so chaotically that any possible adversary would tremble at the mere thought of facing him. Gojo Satoru is the strongest, that was an agreed upon fact, or at least he thought it was until he met you.

The first time you had laid eyes upon him, you laughed.

“This is almighty Gojo Satoru, huh?”

He was stunned. People rarely smiled at him, only when trying to please him or gain something from him, laughs and giggles became shushed when he came near. Never had he heard such a clear laugh from someone aware of his presence, let alone laughing at him.

And like you had expected his frozen form, you gave him a knowing look and a smile. “I look forward to getting to know you, Satoru.”

To say that he was enamoured by you by the moment your smile reached your crinkling eyes was an understatement.

His high school years began and never had he felt more challenged in his life. He was the strongest, that still rung true, but until then he had never felt a desire to prove it, a desire to impress. His ideals and methods were questioned and criticised, his techniques scrutinised and forced to improve and adapt. His teachers, Getou, Shoko, even the younger students like Nanami, all challenged him.

Prove to us that you are the strongest. We will not accept a statement like that at face value. Prove it.

Now get better.

But none of them came close to you. You hounded him at every open opportunity, around every corner. And oh, did he welcome it. You’d challenge him to fights, lose almost every time, but always find something he did badly or should have done that he would obsess over for the days and weeks to come. You’d think of new ways for him to apply his techniques and go further beyond anyone that had inherited Infinity, aiding him reach potentials he didn’t even think existed or that he needed. You’d come back with an argument to anything and everything you disagreed with, answers he couldn’t look past or debunk, forcing him into a state of reflection which his parents had deprived him of.

Gojo Satoru was the strongest, but he learned very quickly that he wasn’t perfect.

He continued to change; adapt to everything you threw at him. His cocky attitude stayed carved in stone, his laughs at the weak were never missed, but he looked forward in excitement. He had never had that before you. His life path was laid out perfectly for him since birth, a life he had never asked for he once said. And you had replied.

“Then why are you following it? You’re the strongest, aren’t you? Then do what you want, no one can stop you.”

He soon realised that the flutters his heart experienced as he laid down in the grass next to you, staring up at the stars, was not just his heart stuttering at the beauty of the universe. His heart imploded whenever your fingers came close to his, subtle shoulder touches from passing in the corridors, laughs at his jokes that would get you into stitches, smiles that seemed to lighten his heart and drop his stomach like a rollercoaster, and eyes that stared into his soul.

And you knew, oh by god you knew what effect you had on him. You were no fool. But oh my, was it fun.

You had feelings for him too, you weren’t that cruel, and you knew that he knew that too. But you weren’t going to jump headfirst into a boy who couldn’t differentiate between what he wanted, and what he was expected to want. Who he was, and who he was supposed to be.

One night, like many nights before, you laid on his bed together, chips and chocolates and any wrappers of sweets he had impulsively bought surrounding you two. And that night he turned to you, question hesitant on his lips.

“What do you think of me? Who do you think I am?”

You pursed your lips, tilting your head towards him, thinking of what to say but you already knew the answer the moment he asked.

“You’re Satoru,” you said, a grin taking up half your face. “You’re just Satoru.”

He would never admit it, but he cried that night, he cried hard. And he wouldn’t have to worry, because you expected this of him, of course you did, you always did, and you held him. You held him as tight as you possibly could, as tight as you could hold a lonely boy crushed by the weight of the world that he never volunteered to lift. He was Atlas, but you were next to him, helping hold the world on your shoulders, even if you were scared that it would crush your shoulders into splinters, never would you have mentioned it.

The two of you continued to dance to the song that the pair of you had been listening to for years, waiting for one to take the step forward, to dip the other into no return. Dance the dance that had been safely done with a metre in between the two of you, not wanting to step on the other’s feet, not wanting to come in before the bridge started, not wanting to get the timing of the beat drop wrong. Things caused chaos around the ballroom that you danced in, friends lost to death or to wars of morals and ideals, faith lost in elders meant to protect you but instead fetishized tradition, guidance into the adult world being left in the air. But the two of you continued to dance, getting incrementally closer to each other, breath reaching skin, fabrics tripping over each other, but never quite close enough to feel the other, always a hair width away.

And like you had expected, like you had waited patiently for, he stepped closer, bridging the gap between the two of you. A smile stayed on your lips as he pressed his mouth to yours gently, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks in greeting. Satoru had finally become him. Not the shaman that was whispered between hands, the sorcerer who elders expected great things from, not just the strongest. He was Satoru, and that was as perfect as he was ever going to be, and as perfect as you wanted him.

Years passed and not even for a moment could you be bored when existing in the same world as Gojo Satoru. Every day was something new, something to tease about the other, another sign of affection that would make the other’s heart stumble, another reason to fall even more irrevocably in love.

You stood by his side with everything he stood for, staying grounded and as a point of reference of what he wanted this world to be. The world he wanted you to be able to live in. You argued by his side when trying to revoke death wishes that were put on Itadori, giving a smile to the higher ups when he insinuated the length he would go to in order to get the world of his own design. You would be slitting throats next to him before he had the chance to ask and everyone knew it.

Your name was whispered beside his now, one couldn’t be mentioned without mentioning the other. The strongest and the tamer. The one that had incapsulated every corner of Gojo Satoru’s heart and would never leave. The one that the man would burn down the world for if it dared to insult the love of his life, and the two of you would just smile through the flames.

Good and evil is relative, but neither compares to the terrifying ordeal yet comfort of being known by someone else through and through. Every pore and freckle and hair studied by the other until they know the other’s face and soul better than they know their own.

Satoru was only ever approached when you were away on a mission. There was no chance of compromise or pushing when you were in the vicinity. You knew what he wanted, and you wouldn’t settle for anything less than. Gojo Satoru was the strongest, but you had him happily in your hands at your mercy and direction, you were the scariest.

So it was no surprise to either of you as your missions were set far away from each other and at the most inopportune times. You barely had anytime to look in his eyes let alone talk of creating the world together like gods. But if they thought that mere curses would separate the two of you, they were fooling themselves. No amount of time, nothing the other could do, would ever stop the tyrannical love you held for each other, nothing would be allowed to get in the way.

Every night the other came home, they would hold the other’s cheeks in their hands softly, letting their love’s head surrender to gravity. You wouldn’t need to say a word, and neither would he, just quietly in your world for another moment before the other would inevitably have to leave. You would figure it out, the two of you always did, you would eventually get the world you talked about in the company of the stars like you had since you were teenagers.

When you got the call of your next mission you frowned. It seemed off, a special grade that had been spotted in Osaka, nothing you hadn’t dealt with before, but the slight stutter of the caller rang alarm bells in your head. As you packed for your mission Satoru stared at you from the other side of the living room, reading you.

“How bad?” he asked, his blue eyes caressing your face gently, a book on his chest he had long abandoned to just watch you.

“Just a special grade but…” you started.

“It feels wrong?”

You nodded. Asking him to come with you was out of the question for multiple reasons, both of you worked better alone, leaving no risk of the other getting harmed by a technique, Satoru had a lot on his plate already, caring for students and attempting to research and protect his students from the special grades that had begun popping up. And well, you were capable, this was something you knew how to do and had done for years. But still, at the back of your mind, it was screaming at you to run, to take the man in front of you and just run.

But you didn’t.

Instead, the two of you swayed in your kitchen together to silent music, his arms holding you tightly, afraid you would be stolen from him. You held your ear to him, his heartbeat calming down your neurons that were lighting fires in your brain. You stayed there for a little eternity, intoxicated with the other’s touches and love, but soon you picked your bag up from the kitchen counter, and gave him a soft and slow kiss. His eyes looking down at you half-lidded, drunk on the person in front of him, euphoric he got to be called yours. He watched as you left, your eyes catching his through the closing gap, giving him that knowing look and smile you always had.

It was worse that had been described in the report, far worse. The paper was practically a list of lies. You wished you could call for back up, to call for Satoru, but there was literally no time. The moment you arrived the scene was already in chaos, people getting eaten and dismembered like playthings by not one, but three special grades.

People weren’t listening to your directions, practically running into the mouths of the curses, several lower grade ones had come as well, as if called, making everything so much harder. You were in the middle of the war zone, trying to kill lower grades that were seconds away from killing a civilian, getting people out of there and to run, and fighting the special grades that didn’t give you a moment to breathe. Adults' limbs were torn off of them as they screamed to be helped, kids' heads exploded as you held them under your arms. The special grades just laughed.

They had cut you down more times than you could count on the fingers you had left, you couldn’t differentiate the blood pouring down your body from the ones who had died around you. You had managed to kill two of the three special grades, but the other evaded everything with a wide grin, directing the other curses like an orchestra. A symphony of shattering bones and blood curdling screams filled your ears everywhere, inescapable.

A child, one that couldn’t have been older than four, ran to you, stumbling over their feet as they sobbed. The special grade geared up, charging their attack. You took a deep breath and calmly looked at the world in front of you for a moment, time slowing down. Your mouth twitched up at the ludicrousness of it all and looked to the sky you had spent a lifetime staring at.

Sorry Satoru, looks like I won’t be coming home.

You grabbed the child, and curled around it, protecting it as best as you could, and waited for impact.

There was no other answer to draw from your mission than the fact that the higher ups had sent you on a suicide mission, they knew you worked alone, they knew that there was a limit to even how much you could handle. Because after you all, you weren’t the strongest. You were the disposable one. They had sent you, but not just so you would be the one to crumble.

No. That’s all Gojo Satoru could think as he raced through the corridors, he didn’t want to believe it, he refused to believe it. There was no such timeline where you could be separated from him, it was simply not allowed. A reality that was forbidden from coming to fruition. He slammed open the doors to Shoko’s lab, teary eyes glanced up at him before looking to the ground. They surrounded a table in the middle of the floor, barring him from seeing. He just stared with wide eyes, looking insane, not a single thought that they would be able to read. But you would know, you would only have to take one look at him and you would know what he was thinking, because you would sit up and look him in the eyes with the smile that he had carved into his soul. You would, you had to.

The group parted slowly, giving him access to the metal table.

There you were, lying down in what had to be a deep slumber, eyes closed, looking as beautiful as you always did and would continue to be. You had to, you had to. He took a step closer, his hands trembling at his sides, he reached forward, touching your cold cheek, his shaking sending little waves across your skin.

Shoko stood next to him with red eyes. She reached up to touch his shoulder, but her hand froze, stopped by Infinity. Her eyes widened. He took no notice of her, not acknowledging her for even a second. Her hand curled into a fist and dropped, looking away with a wobbly breath.

He cupped his hand underneath your head, lifting you to his chest. It was a mystery of how he managed to keep you steady. Ever so slowly he picked up your whole body, walking out of the room. No one stopped him.

He refused to acknowledge what his six eyes were telling him. There was no way, no conceivable way, that you could have left him. You would never do that to him. You would never dare leave him all alone in this world, the world that hadn’t been theirs yet. There were so many things they had left to do. So many things they were meant to fix. So many more days left to love each other. So many more days where you were meant to look at him and just see him, just see Satoru. So, there was no way you left. You wouldn’t do that to him, right?

Gojo Satoru was a strong person, that’s what everyone thought. He was the strongest. But the sound that came out of him as he knelt in the dirt outside the building as his body wracked with sobs, cradling you to his chest desperately, haunted all the hearer’s waking and sleeping states. Their dreams stayed infected with it for weeks. He begged to the universe and to you, begging through screams. It was so loud. It was so excruciating. And it was so, so raw. It sounded like his vocal cords were being ripped apart, and they wouldn’t have been surprised if that came to be true.

Gojo Satoru was a strong person, that’s what everyone thought, but now they weren’t so sure.

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solcheeky · 3 years

Note

Hii I absolutely loved that one sided love angst with hyuck and was wondering if you’d be willing to write it from the other side with Jeno dating the friend without having feelings for them? I feel like he’d be the type to feel too bad to reject someone he’s close with

summary: all jeno wants to do is keep you happy. so when you ask him to be your boyfriend, he says yes because what else could make you happier? if that’s what you wanted, that’s what he’ll give. even if that means pretending he loves you the way you love him. (3k)

genre: college au!, angst, gn!reader warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of sex (but none of it) a/n: thank you for reading the hyuck one! though I can’t lie, it’s sort of difficult to write an exact plot I’ve already written before, sorry!! so I’ve changed things up a bit! but it’s still angst though, and under the same premises :)

“Don’t you think Jeno is a little… Hard to read, sometimes?”

Donghyuck swallows his drink hard, before placing his bottle back onto the picnic table and sending you a weird look.

“Isn’t he your boyfriend?” He scratches behind his ear then pushes up his sunglasses. “Wait, not even. You guys have been friends since… Before we even met. If anyone can read him, that’s you.”

Logically speaking, he was right.

But why didn’t it feel that way at all?

As you try to think of the right words to say, you fiddle with a leaf that had fallen from a branch of the tree hanging above your table.

“Are you guys in a fight or something?” Donghyuck steals back your attention. He had a weirdly calm look on his face for someone who was apparently concerned.

You sigh. Not exactly, “no.”

You weren’t fighting. Or at least, if it was a fight, you couldn’t say exactly when or how it even started.

Things were normal, like how they always were (you think), but there was something off about Jeno you just couldn’t put your finger on.

Except, whether things had only been like this recently, or whether it had been like this ever since you started dating but you’d only noticed now, you couldn’t tell.

It wasn’t that Jeno was directing any anger at you, he hadn’t done anything abrupt or out right mean at all.

If anything, he was doing exactly everything you ask for.

Yet somehow, you felt a sort of… distant from him, like there was a weird shift between your relationship you hadn’t been aware of until it felt too late—like you’d done all the buttons up wrong.

And how were you supposed to even begin to explain all that to Donghyuck if you couldn’t even pinpoint it?

“It’s not a fight,” you opt to say, but it comes out almost like a question. “It’s just-”

“Hey!”

Instinctively, both of you turn to face the direction in which the voice came from.

A few paces away, Mark Lee and your boyfriend were cutting through the grass and heading towards your table, it looked like they had just finished class.

You turn back to Donghyuck before they get within hearing range and mutter, “doesn’t matter.”

Except Donghyuck doesn’t even have time to reply because Mark pushes his shoulder with a strong hand, the other on the strap of his backpack, as he shoves him further down the bench to make space for him to sit.

“Move over!” The familiar, cheerful smile on his face makes you feel like things are back to normal, even just for a brief moment.

“Argh, Mark, seriously.” Donghyuck groans as he pushes his bottle and leather gym satchel across the table with him.

“What?” Mark’s laughing as he shuffles into the bench too, “I can’t sit on that side, can I?” He raises a playful brow at Jeno who was standing on your left.

You look over your shoulder and he smiles down at you.

“Hey,” he reaches down to pat you, palm warmly stroking the curve of your head before leaning down to place a brief kiss into your temple.

“Hi.” You say with a quiet smile as he slips into your side of the bench.

By now, Mark had already taken his attention off Jeno. “Why are you wearing sunglasses? It’s not that sunny.”

Donghyuck scoffs at the elder’s audacity. “The sun is clearly in the sky though, isn’t it? Use that big head of yours.”

But their bickering easily becomes background noise when Jeno gently takes the small leaf you were playing with from between your fingers and spins it between his finger and thumb.

He cutely looks at you in question and you just shrug.

So he flicks it away and slips his hand into yours instead and squeezes.

You squeeze back. “We still on for tonight?” Your voice low lest you interrupt Mark and Donghyuck’s ‘loving’ conversation.

You were planning to sleepover at his—weird to think that it was something you had gone out of your way to schedule but, it was nearing exam season and both your slots for free time had fit together like a box full of the wrong puzzle pieces.

It doesn’t take more than a second for Jeno to reply with a happy, “yes, of course.”

But a lump forms in the back of your throat at the urge to tell him you know he’s forced that answer out.

Later, when it’s already deep into the day, Jeno texts you to let you know he’ll be a little late

Although you kind of wished he’d told you sooner; you were already standing outside of his door.

Your first thought is not to tell him—knowing Jeno, the guilt would drive him crazy—and you probably would have done so that way if you were still friends. But things were different now; you were dating.

You should be comfortable enough to be completely transparent with him, even if about things as small as this.

Plus, he’d probably feel even guiltier if you didn’t tell him.

Except when Jeno does get the text, he feels even worse.

Not just because he’s left you hanging around wasting the rare time you could’ve spent together, but because it was entirely his fault that he was late.

He had managed to get off his lecture earlier than usual which gave him an extra hour to spare before your scheduled arrival time.

Usually that would mean he’d tell you right away so you could push that time earlier to have even longer to spend together.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Jeno wanted something else to occupy his mind other than you.

Was that bad of him? Probably… Maybe—He didn’t want to convince himself anything. As long as you didn’t find out why, everything would stay the same. At least that was what he was convincing himself to think.

So, Jeno was quick to chuck his bag full of study notes by his doorway, pick up some gear and his bike and immediately head out.

Just a few miles, he told himself. Nothing better to clear his mind than a quick workout, right?

Wrong.

You wouldn’t slip from his mind no matter what he tried to do.

All Jeno could think about was how he promised himself he would make this relationship work regardless of whether that meant he had to cross an ocean just to make the you that was in love with him, feel loved.

Inevitably, those thoughts eventually watered down to how bad of a job he’s been doing of it all.

It was probably bad enough he’d just referred to your relationship as a job.

Yeah, alright, this was worse than bad.

It’s just that you were so happy—the face you made when he said yes to being your boyfriend was all he ever wanted for you.

Logically, he thought that keeping things in tandem with what you expressed happiness for, would be enough to see that same smile again.

Jeno held your hand when you wanted it. He kissed you how you liked it. He let you sleep in his bed and sleep with him because that’s what you needed from him.

That’s all he ever wanted for you. So why did it feel like it wasn’t enough?

He was your boyfriend now. Wasn’t that supposed to make it easier?

Not to say that it was hard when you were labelled as friends—just that certain boundaries couldn’t be crossed and there was no way to stop eventualities of you finding someone else that would make you happy.

Jeno didn’t want that; he didn’t want to see you with another person. But the label ‘boyfriend’ on his own forehead almost felt like a burden, even though he knew he loved you. It was all really confusing.

Breaking it down, Jeno knew that you meant a lot to him. Really, he just wanted to give you the love you deserved. So being your boyfriend felt like the right choice, like it was the right thing to do if that’s what it meant to give you all his love.

But somehow becoming the ‘boyfriend’ felt even further away from you than when he was just a ‘friend’.

And at this point, Jeno was too far into this. Spending time with you was great, but it confused him. He had lost what defined the boundaries of how a boyfriend makes one happy, versus a friend.

Sometimes he even thought, what was so good about the label ‘boyfriend’? Was it worth all the things he’s done for you?

He had thought too hard and too much he didn’t even realize how far out he’d cycled; it was so far there was no way he could cycle back the same route in time to meet you.

Dangerously, a small, small, small part of him was glad.

But, no.

Jeno shakes his fringe out of his eyes and pedals faster. Just get home first, he tells himself, he can deal with that thought another time.

When Jeno finally arrives, he’s lugging his bike towards you, sweat dripping down his temples and breath still a few paces behind.

“Sorry,” he manages to breathe out, wiping the sweat across his brow with the back of his wrist before he leans past your frame to unlock his door.

You bite back a bit of a laugh, “you look crazy.”

He lets out a relieved smile and you tip on your toes to press a quick kiss into it.

A surprised sound muffles into your lips when you do, like he was about to say something but you had got to his lips first.

You pull away with a scrunched up face. “Salty.”

That makes him laugh. “Come on then.” He pushes the door open and guides you in first.

After putting away his bike, he shuts the door behind him and chucks his gear away while you place your things onto his desk chair.

“I’m gonna shower first.” He pulls off his gloves and watches as you spin to face him with a small smile.

From anyone else's point of view, you looked fine. You stood tall, a sweet smile across your lips and eyes full of affection for your boyfriend.

But Jeno knew better than that.

He throws his gloves into the hamper and pauses with his hands on the hem of his top. “Want to join?”

Your eyes light up and the heavy guilt on his chest suffocates him a little less.

“Only if you want me to.” You tilt your head to the side. If he was going to be quick, there was no harm in you waiting an extra 10 minutes, sure, you can handle that much.

But Jeno only wanted it because he knew you did. He knew every minute together meant way more to you now that you rarely saw each other.

So he nods his head towards the bathroom door to gesture for you to come, then proceeds to pull his top over his torso.

With Jeno’s shoulders under the showerhead, you keep your arms resting on the dip of his hip bones for warmth.

His own hands are in your hair, fingers gently massaging your scalp and temples, with a cute concentrated look across his face.

“Turn around for me.” He slowly presses a kiss into your forehead and you hum in compliance.

“I can do you instead, you know?” Now that you’re facing the other way you can’t read his face.

His thumbs press into the nape of your neck, following the direction of your spine into your scalp and your shoulders completely lose tension.

Jeno presses his lips into a straight line and hums a comfortable ‘no, it’s okay’. He was fine like this.

“Let me do this for you.” His low voice vibrates a lot closer to your ears than before.

It almost distracts you from your previous thoughts, but his words echo in your mind once more.

‘Let me do this for you.’ You know… That seemed to be all he was doing lately...

Now that you really think about it, you can’t recall Jeno ever doing anything for himself; it was always you before him.

He was always looking out for you—maybe never directly verbal—but he never failed to show how much cared by how much he noticed about you, whether that meant lending you his shoulder on stressful days of work, or for things even just as small as giving you his pen for the day because you forgot yours.

“Jeno?”

“Mhm? Ah!—Too strong?” His fingers come to a stop at the assumption he’s massaging you too hard.

“No,” you take his hand from behind your head and turn around to look at him in the eyes.

Jeno blinks at you in confusion.

Your eyes drop away from his face. “You’d tell me if there was something bothering you, right?”

At first, his brows crease together.

But then he’s laughing, eyes smiling as he calls you cute under his breath whilst releasing the grip of your hand on his wrist and affectionately brushing the bubbles away from the top of your eyebrow with his thumb.

“What are you talking about?” Jeno presses his forehead into yours so you can look at him and see that smile of his you love so much, “Is there something wrong?”

“No…” Not with you. But if there was with him you’d listen.

He presses his lips against yours. “I’m okay if you’re okay.”

Those words were a little tricky.

On the surface, they seemed like a sweet thing to say. Yet you knew it subconsciously meant something deeper.

But, you let it slide just this once.

The next time you’re in his room, it’s a week later and a day earlier than you had previously scheduled.

But instead of cute showers together, you have his heavy arm slung around your shoulder and alcohol breath against your cheek.

“Sorry.” Jeno’s half slurring as he nuzzles into your jaw.

You kick his door closed from behind you and heave his weight against your hip more. “Don’t worry about it.” At least he was sober enough to apologize now.

You had just come back from the bar nearest your campus where Donghyuck was stupidly holding an ‘end of the first exam’ event (A.K.A. any excuse for endless food and rowdy drinking games on a friday night).

Jeno releases his arm from off your shoulder and places a hand on the wall.

“Can you get me some water?” He presses his eyes closed and manages to take a step forward.

You think the cold night walk from the bar had kicked some sense of reality into him. “Yeah, can you manage?” You reach a hand out behind his waist just in case.

But he just hums and slowly continues his way forward with his fingers pinching between his brows.

It was okay if he closed his eyes, he knew his room like the back of his hand anyway.

As you rip open the pack of water by his door and pull a bottle out, Jeno drops his jacket off his arms and onto the floor before he slumps into his bed with a sigh.

By the time you approach his bedside, he’s sprawled out over his duvet with his eyes closed.

You open the bottle for him and he blindly takes it. “You don’t usually drink this much.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Is everything okay?”

Ever since you asked Jeno that question in the shower, he seemed as if he was extra cautious about the things he said. And maybe that was just your own imagination. Or maybe you somewhat wanted him to have a secret. Maybe you subconsciously wanted a reason to justify why he acts the way he does.

Jeno nods as he gingerly lifts his head just to drink some water.

“If there’s something on your mind, you can tell me.” You want to ask for more, but you don’t want to force anything out of him.

Sure, sometimes you might find it hard to discern what exactly goes on inside Jeno’s head. But just because you couldn’t read anything off him, didn’t mean he didn’t have any thoughts.

You at least know him well enough to understand how much goes on inside that selfless head of his, despite his generous puppy smiles and lack of verbalisation.

You know he worries a lot—Less about himself and more so about everyone else around him. So you can’t help but think he’s hiding something. Jeno’s more observant than others think.

With a frown, he reaches up to put the bottle onto his side table with a nod.

Then it clicks.

“Did.. Did I say something?” He leans up on one elbow, voice unintentionally baring a touch of mortification.

“What?—No.” You press a hand into his shoulder to get him to lie down again. “No.” Really, he didn’t. That was the problem.

You push his hair away from his forehead and he sighs sleepily.

Thank god, Jeno thinks. To him, he wasn’t exactly hiding anything from you. He thinks purposely ‘hiding’ something was different to just ‘not saying’ something.

Not that he was trying to get off from this with a technicality. Jeno loved you. He really did.

But somehow this ‘love’ just wasn’t turning out the way he thought it would.

And that was something he needed to figure out for himself.

“You.. You don’t have to know...” Is the last thing he says before he falls asleep.

Did you really mean that little to him?

You thought you could be as reliable to him as he was to you.

Were you just ...not enough?

to be continued...

reply below on this post if you want me to tag you when I post part 2 :)

a/n: I think this could’ve easily been a full prose fic, but,,, I’m lazy,, also I feel like I don’t know jeno’s character well enough to convincingly write about what he’d say, think or do ;/ but anyways! thank you for this request, just the perfect thing to give my brain a break from writing my endless hyuck and mark content

also! disclaimer(?) guys! please don’t do what ‘jeno’ is doing in this fic hahahaha this is setting a bad example of what a relationship and labels could mean! in short, what I wrote about was Damage -100hp and Dumb 500hp lmfao so don’t do it (or more so wish for it👁👁)

but yeah, I’m open to discourse in my ask box as much as I was for the hyuck version of this fic if anyone needs/wants to talk about anything! (I’ll also tag it as #os if anyone wants to filter it out)

scroll through these if you'd like the read the hyuck angst discourse

or read the hyuck version of this fic here!

#neowritingsnet #lee jeno #jeno scenarios #jeno angst #jeno drabbles #jeno imagines #jeno fanfic #jeno lee #jeno x you #jeno x reader #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct drabbles

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

The Five Scares (and one revenge)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having a tendency to scare people, Corpse has gotten used to his friends being jumpy whenever he appears from the void into a Discord call with them. However, the one who has it the roughest with the spooks has to be his partner Y/N. Basically: The five times Corpse scared Y/N and the one time they scared him

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your lovely request it was a real joy to write and I had a ton of fun doing so! Hope you have equally as wonderful of a time if you happen to come across it and give it a read despite the long wait you’ve had to endure which I apologize for. Love, Vy ❤

Having had to go home for the night to keep an eye on their roommate’s dog, Y/N and Corpse agreed to have a video call before they fell asleep. They didn’t want to appear like that typical clingy and cheesy couple but after spending almost a whole week curled up in Corpse’s apartment, the two would feel each other’s absence to a very saddening degree to the point where they’d even forget the other isn’t around and would call out to them.

Letting the call ring, Y/N’s hand comes up to smooth out their hair. However, the touch reveals to them that their hair needs a bit more than a simple tap or a pat to be tamed so while they wait for Corpse to answer the call, they quickly head to their bathroom. Flicking the light on, their reflection greets them with the underwhelming news of the actual state of their hair at the moment: an absolute mess. They proceed to do their best with the single hair-tie they have handy. A bobby pin or two would be neat but they have no time to go and grab one right now, seeing as how they can’t recall if they even brought them back from Corpse’s apartment. If they didn’t, they would have to search their roommate’s room for some which would take an even longer amount of time.

Eventually, they manage to tame it in something closely resembling a presentable ponytail and exit the bathroom feeling more exhausted than before. With a loud sigh, they crash onto their bed, face-first into the sea of pillows, groaning at the slight sting of their muscles relaxing at last.

“Y/N?“ The decently loud mention of their name by a deep, familiar yet sudden and unexpected voice startles them to the point of squealing and jumping an entire inch away from where they were positioned.

They look around their room in a frenzy, wondering where on Earth that voice came from and how it could be here with them right now.

“Y/N, you there?”, before they could locate it, it emerges once again, helping Y/N get an ide of where it’s coming from - somewhere in the messed up bed sheets.

“Corpse?“ They finally find their voice, “Y-yeah I’m here. Question is: how are you...“ and then it all clicks, causing them to twist their face in an expression of utter disappointment and bury it in the palms of their hands, groaning.

“You forgot about the video chat, didn’t you?“ Corpse asks, amusement not even attempted to be hidden in his voice.

“Yup.“

It’s been one hell of a day. Y/N’s college lectures exhausted them to a max and their six hour job following their classes did nothing to help them AT ALL. Quite the opposite actually. Makes sense why they look, move and talk the way they’re doing right now: like a ghost, zombie and an elder combined in one. To add to their misfortunes for the day, they were met with the mocking ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign taped to the doors of the elevator, laughing in their face with the information that their hellish experience for the day is far from over.

Just the thought of having to climb to the fifth floor made their stomach turn in the most unpleasant way possible, but the though of how long that would take made matters even worse. Arriving at their designated apartment, they have every right to be pissed, cussing their heart out.

However, then comes a new problem: the inability to pinpoint the correct key. They proceed to curse themselves, the keys, the door handle and the door itself before punching the poor wood that did no wrong and just stands here, serving its purpose of keeping unwanted people out of the apartment it’s guarding.

Following their anger outburst and front-door-abuse, they proceed to try finding the correct key once again, this time slightly more calmly as to not accidentally miss it in their frantic rifling.

Right as they’re about to try the third key, however, the door opens. Well, it’s opened by someone on the other side, that someone being none other than their boyfriend Corpse who’s currently staring at them wide-eyed, one eyebrow raised, the word ‘confused’ basically written across his face.

While he’s processing the sight in front of him, Y/N lets out a little scream, jumping back and away from the door, a hand placed over their chest as their wide eyes scan their boyfriend who now seems equally terrified as a result of their reaction.

“Corpse?!“ They manage to gasp, barely hearing their own voice over the loud thumping of their heart and the rush of blood in their ears, “What the hell are you doing here?!“

The confusion on Corpse’s face deepens, reaching whole new levels as his eyes gaze deeper into theirs, searching for the meaning behind their bizarre question. “You mean...at my own apartment? What am I doing, at home?“

For a few seconds, the two just stare blankly at one another, processing everything that’s just happened. Suddenly, it all just kinda caves for Y/N and they burst out laughing, doubling over, their arms clutching at their stomach as they do so. Their laughter is contagious, so Corpse can’t help but let out a few chuckles himself.

“Alright, you’ve been driven to insanity, I can tell.“ He mumbles at his reckless partner, coming up behind them and wraps his arms around them, lifting them up and carrying their laughing ass inside.

III

Finally deciding to sit down and get this damn project started, Y/N already feels like they’ve had enough of it, burnout already creeping in and threatening to ruin their work and trip them up every step of the way. It wouldn’t have been so bad had the subject not been one they absolutely despise and wish they could get out of studying but alas they’re stuck with it.

They equip their headphones as soon as they plant their butt on the desk chair in their tiny room in their tiny roommate-shared apartment, putting their Spotify playlist on shuffle as they open a blank Power Point document. They work better with music blasting in their ears since the silence tends to be too loud and distracting when they’re trying to focus. So, that way they can also sing their heart out in peace and not get disturbed by the sound of their own off-key singing. Win-win, basically.

Singing ‘Never Forget You’ by Zara Larsson and MNEK, they get a little carried away, ditching the project to enter a full-blown music video they can imagine down to the detail in their mind.

However, there’s a surprise awaiting them.

As soon as MNEK’s part of the song begins, another voice apart from his echoes through their headphones, singing along to the song. Freaking the fuck out, they let out a loud scream, smacking the headset off them, sending the object falling and landing on their laptop keyboard with a crash that only serves to further startle their roommate’s dog which comes to check if they are being attacked or something only to be disappointed by the lack of action.

When pushing the headphones off, they did so with a force strong enough to snap the cable out of the laptop entirely so now the room is filled with the sound of that same foreign voice laughing his ass off.

A voice that belongs to no other than Corpse Husband himself.

“You gotta learn to disconnect from Discord calls, Y/N.“ The fucker says, still cackling wholeheartedly at his partner’s misery.

Pissed off or not, Y/N would have to admit he’s got a point. But they’d also rather never speak again than admit it so...

“Fuck you!“ is what they say instead, seconds before disconnecting.

Making breakfast is not something either Corpse or Y/N are used to, mostly cause they both either wake up late or skip the meal entirely. Regardless, having been given a day off from work and having no classes since it’s Saturday, Y/N saw no better way to start their day off than to prepare a nice breakfast for them and their boyfriend to enjoy. Problem is: they aren’t the most skilled in the kitchen. Sure they can scramble an egg or make mac and cheese, but in order to do it correctly they are not allowed to have distractions of any kind. Not even music, that’s how you know it’s serious.

Seeing as how Corpse has never seen them cook, he’s obviously unaware of theirs. The dummy straight up waltzes into the kitchen, unintentionally remaining unspotted and unheard by Y/N because he’s barefoot and because they have their back turned to him.

“Whatya cooking over there babe?“

Y/N’s focus bubble, being as thin as it is and considering they initially thought Corpse was still asleep, they have every right to let out the yelp they just did, dropping the egg they were gonna crack over the pan in said pan in its entirety - yes, shell and all.

A moment of silence commences: regretful on Corpse’s end and frustrated on theirs. Neither of them dares to say anything to avoid triggering the other. Well, that’s the case until Y/N decides enough’s enough and they turn to look at him, a wide, obviously fake smile plastered onto their face.

“Scrambled eggs, following a secret recipe, property of the L/N family.“

Seems like your pre-breakfast snack is an extra large dose of sarcasm, huh?

“So, how was your day? You sound pretty chipper so I take it wasn’t a nightmare like a few days ago.“ Corpse comments over the phone, listening to shuffling and shifting as Y/N moves around the apartment, getting ready to head out.

“It was great actually. Got some important results back and, not to brag or anything, but they were higher than I expected.“ They reply, a genuine wide grin refusing to leave their face as they silently count the amount of money they’ve got in their wallet. “I’m gonna go buy a cake so we can celebrate it. It’s no small deal, trust me, especially not when I initially thought I’d fail both these exams to the point of being pitied.“

“Wait...-“ Corpse attempts, his voice suddenly sounding strained and urgent but that’s the very reason he cannot seem to find or get the right words out of his system. Not that Y/N gives him any time to figure it out.

“No Corpse, you cannot change my mind. Cake and beers, we’re celebrating toni- SHIT!“ They scream as they throw open the front door, bumping square into someone standing on the other side, almost dropping their phone.

Taken aback by embarrassment and fear, they leap back, their eyes searching for the ones of the person whose personal space they just invaded. Well, to be fair, he was the one invading their personal space by standing right outside the door to their - well, to Corpse’s apartment.

The fear and irritation die down almost instantly when Y/N recognizes the person standing opposite them.

“Mind telling me why we’re talking on the phone when you could’ve come in and we could’ve had a normal person conversation?!“ They snap, ironically enough - they’re still holding the phone to their ear.

So is Corpse whos is smiling guiltily, “That’s why I called, I forgot my keys, but I got...carried...sorry.”

Well, at least this serves as proof Y/N’s not the only forgetful one.

~ ~ ~

Corpse has been stuck in his recording room for four hours now, never stopping his stream to take care of his basic human needs such as eating or going to the bathroom. This behavior of his has Y/N worried sick and unable to focus on the task at hand - an assignment they’ve been trying to finish for two hours now, sitting with their computer on their lap and looking hopelessly at the blank Word document waiting for them to fill it up while they are waiting for it to start writing itself.

Seeing as how neither are gonna happen, not until Y/N puts their mind at ease, they slowly put the laptop aside, standing up to carefully skip on over to Corpse’s recording room to check on him, stopping by the kitchen to grab him a snack and a bottle of water along the way.

The door to the darkened room is open a crack, as usual, suggesting they can enter without knocking - this also means he’ll probably not hear them even if they knock so the whole gesture would be pointless. Not that Y/N has a tendency to knock or anything... Waltzing in, they find that the only light in the room is the very faint and dark glow of the computer screen which is displaying a dark and dingy room from a first-person view of the protagonist of whatever game Corpse’s currently playing.

“Corpse?!“ They whisper-yell/hiss at him, trying their best to grasp his attention without startling him - they don’t need to be told that the game is of the horror genre and the last thing they need is for their boyfriend to flip backwards and fall out of his chair because they scared the shit out of him. “Hey?!“

Neither attempts prove futile so, despite their best instincts telling them differently, they walk over to him and tap him on the shoulder. The reaction, while within the realm of expectancy, is a lot more startled than they expected, accompanied by a scream on top of all. They’d never heard him scream in fear before, it’s quite amusing if they’re being honest.

They suppress a snicker as Corpse’s wide open eyes meet their squinting ones in the darkness, “Y/N...babe...what is it? Is everything ok?”

Y/N rolls their eyes, “No, everything isn’t ok. Your unhealthy habit of forgetting to take care of yourself, for example.” They put the snack and the bottle on the his desk, giving him their best disappointed-parent look before turning on their heel to strut their way out of the room. However, just as they are about to make their exit, they stop right at the doorframe, giving their stunned one final glance over their shoulder with a smug smirk playing across their face, “Oh and by the way, that’s what I like to call revenge.” Just like that, they leave, pushing the door back into its previous position.

And boy, is it some sweet, sweet revenge.

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311 notes · View notes

somerpmemes · 3 years

Text

The Owl House Starters

Change as needed

“No! My only weakness! Dying!”

“That doesn’t count, right?”

“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”

“Tiny trash thief!”

“Oops, that happens sometimes.”

“I’m a squirmy little fella.”

“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”

“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”

“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”

“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”

“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”

“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”

“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”

“I am not your cutie pie!”

“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”

“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”

“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”

“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”

“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”

“This has been a rough day.”

“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”

“Today just got good.”

“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”

“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”

“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”

“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”

“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“All your food was so tiny and cute.”

“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”

“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”

“I didn’t have to be part of this!”

“I… don’t like this.”

“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”

“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”

“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”

“Alright, into the darkness you go.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”

“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”

“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”

“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”

“Even demons have inner demons.”

“This is my paying attention face.”

“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”

“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”

“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”

“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”

“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”

“Oh no, a twist!”

“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”

“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”

“And look, I drew flip book.”

“I will literally do anything to stop this.”

“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”

“Alright, let’s see this mess.”

“That’s probably fine.”

“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”

“Welcome down to my level!”

“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”

“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”

“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”

“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”

“I was a strange child.”

“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”

“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”

“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”

“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”

“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”

“Ugh, you.”

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

“Whoa, I almost passed out.”

“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”

“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”

“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”

“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”

“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”

“This never happened.”

“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”

“That’s the incorrect reaction!”

“I smell an easy mark.”

“Well, I hate her.”

“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”

“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”

“I’m so old… and pointy.”

“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”

“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”

“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”

“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”

“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”

“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”

“Hey, take this, society!”

“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”

“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”

“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”

“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”

“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”

“Show, don’t tell, man.”

“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”

“That seems like a potential problem to me.”

“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”

“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”

“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”

“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”

“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”

“Like I’d actually apologize.”

“I want power, and I want drama.”

“Are you ready to give up?”

“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”

“I just wish you told me the truth.”

“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”

“Impressive, still alive.”

“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”

“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”

“No one wants to see that.”

“Since when are you into sports?”

“Gross, sympathy.”

“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”

“Oh, this is an interesting development.”

“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”

“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”

“Trust must be earned.”

“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”

“Your pride has destroyed you.”

“So tiny, so angry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”

“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”

“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”

“Partake of my free snack samples!”

“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”

“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”

“I know my good angle.”

“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’

“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”

“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”

“Ooh, I love punching.”

“You’re ominous, and I like it.”

“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”

“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”

“Fame can really box you in, you know?”

“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”

“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”

“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”

“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”

“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”

“Ahh, fresh garbage.”

“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”

“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”

“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”

“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”

“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”

“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”

“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”

“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”

“Get back here before that thing bites you!”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”

“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”

“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”

“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”

“Time to scrounge through the trash.”

“I ain’t no desk jockey.”

“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”

“I love secret rooms!”

“You have an aura of lies.”

“Also, you can eat trash.”

“Do the right thing, you dingus!”

“It just goes on like this for an hour.”

“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”

“We’ve got scams to run.”

“I know poison when I see it.”

“You can’t scam a scammer.”

“You should really put a lock on your closet.”

“I love crimes!”

“Now this is my kind of weird.”

“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”

“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”

“This mama is ready for trauma.”

“All right. Approval!”

“Curse these stubby legs!”

“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”

“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”

“Aww, what a supportive sign.”

“Yep, I just counted to one million.”

“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”

“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”

“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”

“I think today is a talons day.”

“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”

“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”

“Be careful with my brain.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”

“I can’t believe I made him cry.”

“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”

“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”

“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”

“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”

“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”

“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”

“Hey, I found something magical.”

“I’ma put my face in it.”

“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”

“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”

“Eww, I mean, aww.”

“I really messed things up.”

“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”

“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”

“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”

“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”

“Oh, right, I put people in there.”

“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”

“I regret teaching you about the internet.”

“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”

“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”

“Always trust a shoulder demon.”

“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”

“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”

“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”

“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”

“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”

“Girl, you could pull off anything.”

“We’re style geniuses!”

“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”

“Dang, I look great.”

“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”

“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”

“Why so twitchy, witchy?”

“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”

“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”

“You’ve done things I could never do.”

“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”

“I am a little weirdo.”

“You gotta pander.”

“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”

“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”

“I’ve been talking for too long.”

“Feeling sentimental?”

“I love water.”

“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”

“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”

“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”

“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”

“You just destroyed your social life.”

“That’s such a stupid rule!”

“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”

“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”

“Jeez, you’re morbid.”

“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”

“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”

“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”

“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”

“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”

“And ___, thank you, for being in my life.”

“I want her back as much as you do.”

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”

“Ah farts, I got caught.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”

“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”

“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”

“I may have lost but so have you.”

“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”

#the owl house #starters #rp starters #sentence starters #sentence starter meme #rp #rp meme #ask meme #long post

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qianinterprises · 3 years

Text

Summer '78

Pairing | bully!Jeno x chubby!Reader

Warning(s) | bullying, harsh words, cussing, sexual assault, name calling, fat shaming, poor shaming, face slapping, angst, hurtful comments, yelling, the Dreamies are not nice people (I know I did Jaemin wrong, I'm sorry)

Synopsis | Jeno was a bully, and you were his primary victim. Nothing should have changed, but Jeno began getting tired of bullying the girl he was in love with simply because she didn't conform to societies beauty standards. So she was chubby? So what?! His friends didn't see it that was.

Genre | ANGST, retro-flashback

Author’s Notes | So I wrote this a while back for an event of NCTA, which was basically writing a retro fic. This fic is very different than the fics I usually write. For one, it is told in Jeno's perspective rather than the readers. For two, this is a "chubby fic." Meaning the reader is seen in the fic as having a larger body weight, which, may I add here, is not a problem, nor should it ever be. If you are being bullied for anything, please don't let it go unreported. Report it as many times as you have to because bullying is not ok, whether it's done at school, at home, or anywhere else. Also, there is a possibility that there will be a part two, I have had some people (before posting it here) request a part two but I'm on the fence about that, but perhaps a part two will show some change and growth on Jeno's part. So we'll see. Tell me your opinions though! I hope you enjoy~

Word Count | 3.5k

Taglist | @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @nschitty

A group of six boys sat around a table talking and laughing until a loud crash resounded through the snack shack that brought their attention to a waitress on the floor, yellow heels scattered behind her, empty tray in her hands and spilled drinks everywhere as well as on a girl by the table the waitress had fallen at.

“Clutz,” one of the boys, Jeno, mumbled, shaking his head.

“Fatass,” Jeno’s best friend, Jaemin responded.

The other four muttered something along the lines of agreement as they watched the waitress cowering on the floor with a bright red face as the girl now covered in cola shrieked about her ruined clothing and hair.

Jaemin got up from his seat angrily.

“What the hell are you doing to my girlfriend!” he yelled, approaching the pair.

“Jaeminnie! She poured soda all over me!” the girl pouted, running into Jaemins arms.

Jeno rolled his eyes.

Jeno shook his head. Out of all of the boys in their biker gang, Jaemin just had to be the most gullible, falling for the Queen Bee of the high school who used him for nothing more than his money and face.

“She ruined my shirt,” Jeno heard the girl whine.

Jaemin embraced her tighter.

“You’ll have to pay for her clothing, fatty!” Jaemin demanded.

The waitress was someone Jeno recognized. (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). She had been one of his best friends when he was a shy ten year old trying to fit in. They both befriended Jaemin and the rest of their group and somewhere along the way, he’d gotten muscular and tall while she’d gotten chubby. With Jeno’s looks, he’d always been popular with girls, but when he became interested in them as more than friends, he’d dumped the girl in favor of girlfriends.

She was a bullied girl wearing outdated clothing that made adequate grades. A nobody. She didn’t fit into any groups. She drifted through high school being shoved against lockers while her books were thrown across the hallway and what little lunch money she had was stolen. More often than not, Jeno or one of the other guys was the perpetrator.

“I can’t…” (y/n) muttered, looking down at the floor.

Jaemin kicked the carrying tray away from her, making the girl flinch.

Something in Jeno’s heart snapped against his chest, but he’d never allow it to escape. He watched tears gather in the corner of the girl's eyes and Jeno fought the urge to pull her to his chest.

Feelings began to stir their first year in high school when he and (y/n) had been seated side-by-side in homeroom and he’d leaned over to tease her about her recent, awkwardly styled hair when he’d met the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

The feelings made his stomach twist in knots and his body tingled. Feelings and sensations that only grew stronger when their skin brushed or when her angelic voice met his ears.

The feelings were what drove him to brash treatment. His hands shoving her shoulders against the lockers as he demanded for her money. Fingers harshly tugging at the ends of her hair. His voice yelling horrible things at her just to hear her speak back.

He couldn’t tell anyone how he was feeling either. Dating the chubby girl would cause him to lose whatever popularity he had obtained along with his pride and his gang. Their leader couldn’t be seen as the weak punk who decided to date the chubby girl from a poor family.

Jaemin sneered down at the blushing girl, taunting her loudly and Jeno watched her feeble attempt at hiding her face.

“Jaemin! Let’s go. Chubby over here isn’t worth our time,” Jeno called loudly, voice filled with authority that had Jaemin immediately moving away from the girl.

“Fine. But she owes us free meals for a week! Those clothes were expensive!” Jaemin whined.

He kissed his girlfriend's cheek and walked to the door to wait on the rest of the gang who were stuffing their last few fries in their mouths or finishing off their milkshakes.

“Let’s roll,” Jaemin called, a grin on his face.

Jeno shook his head at how fast the male changed perspectives. He grabbed his leather jacket off the back of his chair, sliding his arms into it and let it snap against his back.

The last few members finished their plates, leaving them on the table before grabbing their own jackets and following Jaemin out the door. Jeno took the end, stopping by the waitress on the floor.

“Maybe get some heels your fat feet can walk in, huh Dollface?” he sneered.

Her face flew red again and he rolled his eyes.

“And you should stop blushing. You look like a tomato. Vegetables aren’t attractive. Although it’s fitting. Tomatoes are plump.”

He walked out the door without another word, heart hammering painfully in his ears. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but that was a problem. He couldn’t think chubby girls were beautiful. What would his friends think?

The loud purr of an engine met his ears and he sighed happily, most of his regret getting washed away, uprooted by the smell of motor oil and tires.

Jeno’s ride was a cherry red 1960 Harley-Davidson motorcycle with shiny silver wheels that didn’t match the rusted gas tank or muffler that Jeno was now saving to restore among other things. The black leather seat was slightly cracked from wear over the years and the breaks didn’t always work great. His headlight needed a new spark plug and the oil line leaked. Still, with all of these issues, he loved his bike. Each new issue gave him something to work on at night in his father's tiny little garage when all he wanted was grease on his chest and a wrench in his hand.

“Let’s go Jeno! I wanna ride!” Donghyuck moaned from his spot on his own bike, revving the engine with his right hand.

Jeno rolled his eyes at Donghyuck’s whining. Out of all of them, he was the one that loved traveling the most. They’d gone all the way up the coast the day they’d let Donghyuck lead them.

Jeno nodded and threw his leg over his bike, kicking the kick start lever and sighing happily as the bike roared to life beneath him. He pushed off his kickstand and allowed it to roll forward.

“Let’s go!” he called.

He rolled to the front of the group before revving the engine and turning onto the main road leaving the beachside snack shack behind.

When Jeno pulled into the driveway of his house, he parked his motorcycle beside his elder brother's black and gold Harley, letting the kickstand rest against the dirt driveway and dismounted..

He made his way into the house where his older brother, Jaehyun, was sitting alone in the living room flipping through channels.

Jeno’s heart hurt. All through the ride, he thought about (y/n) and the pained look in her eyes every time someone teased her. He knew it wasn’t right to bully her, especially for something as shallow as her weight or her clothes, but when the girls Jeno dated began mocking her, Jeno joined in, and pretty soon, she was alone. It hurt that Jeno could have stopped it. He could have kept her as a friend instead of ditching her, and now, here he was, hopelessly in love with the girl he bullied and too afraid to stand up to his friends out of fear that they would dump him.

“I have a problem,” he groaned, flopping down on the couch.

Jaehyun turned the small box television off and turned his attention to Jeno. Jeno rolled his head back on the plush green sofa and sighed.

“There’s this girl I like…” he started.

Jaehyun groaned in disinterest.

“So tell her. Not like you can’t get any girl. I heard you’re one of the kings of your class,” he replied.

Jeno whined. It was true. He could virtually have anyone he wanted, yet the one person he couldn’t have was the one he desired.

“I can’t. My friends wouldn’t approve and she’d never go for me… not after everything I’ve done,” he muttered hopelessly.

“Why do you care so much what your punk friends think? Do what you want, not what they want you to do.”

Jeno sighed. It wasn’t that easy and Jaehyun should know that.

“She’d never go out with me anyway and I can never tell her!” Jeno whined, hoping his brother would understand.

He was far too ashamed to come out and say exactly why she wouldn’t. “There’s girls that don’t like you?” Jaehyun asked, clearly shocked.

Jeno nodded sullenly.

“Just one…”

That seemed to make the links click in Jaehyun’s mind and Jeno wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“You don’t mean you like the poor girl you always bully, do you?”

So Jaehyun knew about that. No wonder his brother had grown distant since Jeno had started high school.

“Um… yes…” he mumbled.

Jaehyun shuffled around on the beige chair he was sitting on before one of his dirty socks was being chucked at Jeno’s head.

“Hey!” Jeno snapped.

“You don’t treat people like that! You and your friends are assholes! That poor girl won’t forgive you for what you’ve done to her!” Jaehyun yelled.

Jeno wanted to yell back, but he knew Jaehyun was right. He was an asshole.

“What do I do to get her to like me… I don’t know how to stop this mess…” he mumbled. Jaehyun groaned and grabbed the large remote, flipping the television back on.

“You make things right. Stop bullying the girl and apologize like you mean it. Even then, it may be too late,” Jaehyun answered before his attention was back into the heavy box television.

Jeno sighed. He knew his brother was right.

The next afternoon, Jeno pulled his motorcycle into the parking lot of the snack shack, parking alongside Jisungs rusting brown one he refused to let Jaemin or Jeno strip and repaint.

Jeno dismounted and walked into the shack. His friends were crowded around their usual table, talking loudly.

Jeno walked over to the table and slid into the booth beside Renjun.

“What’d I miss?” he asked.

Jaemin was cackling and fishing ice out of his soda glass.

“(y/n) is on our table today!” he smirked.

Jeno’s heart dropped. That meant they’d be extra cruel to her today and Jeno really couldn’t do anything to tell her or his friends how he felt. The universe must really hate him.

Jaemin got the ice out of his cola glass and held it in his palm, his faze shifting to where (y/n) was shuffling around in her red striped shirt and black pants, wearing those same yellow heels.

“What are you gonna-”

Jeno was cut off as Jaemin smirked and launched the ice cube across the table, getting enough air to fly across the room until it dived down into the low cut v-line of (y/n)’s striped shirt.

“Yes! 10 points!” Jaemin cheered loudly.

(y/n) squeaked at the sudden intrusion of ice, a sound that Jeno found oddly adorable, even if it wasn’t a good kind of squeak.

Her face flamed red and she hurried back to put her notepad down on the chef’s counter before moving back to their table.

“Can I get you guys anything else?” she asked, her voice having gone up an octave from embarrassment.

“I want a chocolate milkshake,” Renjun answered.

(y/n) jotted it down and moved to look at the rest.

“I want a burger that’s charred on one side, but not too charred. Don’t bring me burnt meat or I’ll make your fatass eat it,” Jaemin said.

Jeno sighed at his friend, shaking his head subtly.

“I want a burger with a dollop of ketchup and three pickles. Don’t you dare give me any more or less than three pickles,” Donghyuck ordered.

Jeno rolled his eyes. Donghyuck didn’t even like pickles.

She glanced at Jisung and Chenle, both who were contently sipping their cola’s and completely ignoring her existence, so, after scribbling down everyone else’s orders, she turned her eyes to Jeno.

“Coke with ten pieces of ice and a burger.”

(y/n) nodded, writing all of the information down and shuffled off to the counter again.

“Do we really have to be that mean to her? She looked like she was going to cry,” Renjun muttered.

Jaemin rolled his eyes.

Jeno nodded in agreement to Renjun. Her face was sullen and her eyes glistened with tears that hadn’t fallen. His heart sank at the thought that maybe something had happened at home or that their words had finally gotten to her. In all the time they’d been bullying her, she never once said anything much to them, and they’d never seen her cry.

“Do you think we should lay off her?” he suggested.

Donghyuck and Jaemin snorted at the same time.

“Why would we do that?” Donghyuck asked.

Jeno shook his head. His friends could be such assholes sometimes. They wouldn’t even stop for someone that seems to be almost crying, they just use it to play more games. More buttons to press.

“If you’re so worried, Jeno, go check on her,” Chenle challenged.

“Yeah, go check on her!” Jaemin cackled.

Jeno shook his head and sighed, getting out of the booth. He knew very well what they expected him to do, or at least, what they wanted him to do, but he didn’t know if he could take calling her names anymore. Not when it felt like his soul was screaming at him not to.

He didn’t have much of a choice as he made his way over to her, however. He couldn’t control what his friends wanted and what he was obligated to give.

He moved up behind her and while her back was turned, he brought his hand down hard on her butt as his friends cackled loudly from their table. Jeno’s ears burned in embarrassment and guilt. If his mother knew what he’d just done, she’d be dragging him out of the snack shack by his ear.

He didn’t really know what to expect from (y/n). What he didn’t expect however, was her body whirling around rapidly, her hand raising angrily, and the sharp stinging sensation across his cheek.

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO YOU, AND YET ALL YOU ARE YOUR ASSHOLE BUDDIES WANNA DO IS BULLY ME! WELL PISS OFF! I DON’T NEED THIS!” she screamed.

Jeno’s eyes widened. This was new…

“YOU ARE A BUNCH OF PUNKASS BOYS WITH NOTHING BETTER TO DO, BUT I SWEAR THE NEXT TIME I HEAR A COMMENT ABOUT MY WEIGHT, CLOTHES, OR HAIR, OR ANYONE TOUCHEs ME, I WILL SHOVE MY FAT FOOT UP YOUR BUTTHOLE!” she screamed angrily.

The cackling from the table had stopped as the boys gaped at their waitress in shock.

“AND YOU IDIOTS CAN GET YOUR OWN DAMN BURGERS!”

The snack shack had gone deathly quiet. Jeno stood as still as a statue, face still stinging, but not quite as painful now. The outburst from this usually quiet and reserved girl shocked him to his very core, but it also made him feel worse. Sure, the ice throwing, name calling, and excessively stupid orders had added fuel to the fire, but it was Jeno’s action that had thrown her over the edge.

“I-I’m… sorry…” he stammered out.

“DON’T SAY SORRY TO ME AFTER THE HELL YOU’VE PUT ME THROUGH!” she screamed.

Jeno’s heart pounded in his chest and his eyes gazed at her fearfully.

“I think it’s time you go home, (y/n), calm down and come back tomorrow,” the owner of the snack shack said, walking out of his office.

(y/n) nodded and let out a sniffle. Jeno didn’t know when she’d started crying. She grabbed the bag the owner handed her before running out of the shack.

“And you, young man. You and your boys get out of my shack. You’re all banned for a week. Come back in here acting like that and you’ll be banned permanently,” he said, eyes fixed angrily on Jeno.

Jeno turned to look back at his gang and sighed, waving a hand for them all to follow.

After the incident, Jeno hadn’t felt much like going on a ride with the rest of the gang. They were all perfectly fine, cackling and talking about the outburst, but Jeno couldn’t stomach it. The way she’d screamed. How upset she’d looked. He was done being a bully. Now he just needed to figure out how to go from bully to courting her, if that were even possible.

He parked his bike beside Jaehyun’s again, happy to see his brother was home and not at the rusty body shop he worked at.

He ran into the house, taking the front steps two at a time, and when he was inside, he made his way to the room he shared with Jaehyun.

“I need to borrow your boombox!” he yelled at the male.

Jaehyun, clearly not expecting the sudden intrusion, jumped off the small bed, stuffing the adult rated magazine he’d been “reading” under his mattress. Jeno rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time to find ways to ruin Jaehyun’s relationship with his girlfriend or rat him out to their mother.

“I. need. Your. boom. Box!” he enunciated.

Jaehyun stared at him incredulously.

“Uh… Why?” he asked.

Jeno shook his head angrily and shoved past Jaehyun to siffle through his side of the room searching for the large, heavy, cassette playing boombox his brother had bought a month ago.

“I need it to fix my (y/n) situation!” Jeno explained as he searched.

Jaehyun groaned.

“Movies aren’t real! That won’t work!”

Jeno ignored him. The guy always showed up at the window of the girl he was hoping to impress and the girl always forgave him. It’d work. It had to.

Jeno grabbed the large boombox from beneath Jaehyun’s bed, groaning at the weight. He heard Jaehyun sigh.

“Good luck then.”

Jeno didn’t need it. This would work. It had to work.

The ride to (y/n)’s house had proven to be a bit difficult as he struggled to hold the boombox against him. The box was large and heavy, with a small cassette player at the top that already had his chosen tape resting inside it.

The trip over was one of many stops and repositionings in an attempt not to drop the box that could very well make everything alright. He could just imagine her grinning in glee and running down to meet him, forgiving him for everything he’d ever done to hurt her.

By the time he got to her house, dusk was falling. He had maybe ten minutes before darkness engulfed the sky. Ten minutes in which he’d be tasked with making everything better.

He moved around the side of the common two story house and found (y/n)’s window easily. She appeared to be dancing to the music playing from the vinyl record player he could almost see perched by the window. It brought a smile to his lips. She looked so happy and carefree.

He could watch her all night, but he was here for a reason. He had to apologize for everything he’d ever done and confess.

He found a rock likely from her driveway by her window in the grass and picked it up. It was only one so he had to make it count.

He pressed play on the cassette player portion of the boombox and ‘It’s sad to belong’ came flowing out melodically from the speakers.

”Met you on a springtime day,”

He threw the rock hard against her window, flinching as he heard the rock bounce off. He was surprised it hadn’t broken the window.

”You were mindin’ your life and I was mindin’ mine too. The window opened and Jeno’s heart hammered in his chest.

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n)! I am so in love with you it hurts. I am so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you! All the bullying. All the teasing. I’m so sorry. You’re not fat or ugly! You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen! I just couldn’t show it! But I don’t care what my friends think! I love you! I want to be with you! I want to court you! Please forgive me!” he pleaded, not giving the girl a chance to say anything.

When he finished speaking, the song was nearing an end and his body was shaking. The girl looked almost close to tears again and Jeno grew hopeful that in any second, she’d run downstairs and jump into his arms.

“Yes it’s sad to belong to someone else when the right one comes along.”

“You love me huh? Well you have a funny way of showing it,” she sneered.

The window slammed shut and the drapes were immediately dropped, leaving Jeno alone in the darkness of the evening, his hopes dashed across the grass.

He’d waited too long to apologize.

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