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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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The Hell he’s been through;

The Knights have no clue of the suffering Merlin has endured… until one day, they do.

TW: Scars, panic attacks, nightmares, PTSD except they don’t have a word for that, non-graphic description of scars/injuries

Part 2(final part)

It was the height of summer, the bright blue sky was utterly free of clouds and the noon sun beat viciously down onto the training field.

Only the central six knights, their King, and Merlin braved the exhausting heat, the other knights had chosen to train later in the day, when it was cooler, so the field was empty of anyone else. Merlin was sat cross-legged in the shade of a tree, jacket and neckerchief removed (not that Arth- anyone noticed. Definitely not.), though his sleeves were still pulled low over his wrists and his tunic was fastened high up his neck. Despite that, the lack of an extra layer definitely displayed Merlin’s surprisingly broad shoulders more than normal (another thing that Ar-no one noticed).

The knights were shirtless, despite Merlin’s warning of sunburn, sparring semi-playfully with wooden dummy swords, the type squires train with, and no armour.

Merlin rubs absent-mindedly at the dull, almost gone ache in his ribs, just below his armpit, as he rolls his shoulder. The injury, if it could even be called that, had never been serious and hadn’t even hurt that much when he’d gotten it on the last patrol (a stray mace swing from a bandit just clipped him), at least, not compared to other injuries he’s sustained over the years, but it was an annoyance that made his shoulder stiff on occasion.

Unfortunately, the movement caught Arthur’s eye, and the King frowns, stopping his observation of Elyan and Mordred’s spar to lay a crudely hidden concerned gaze upon his manservant.

He’d fussed endlessly when he found that Merlin had bandaged his own torso after the fight, demanding that he let someone help next time; Merlin just rolled his eyes at that. The other knights had wisely chosen not to comment, knowing that the attack, and Merlin’s subsequent injury, had already put Arthur in a bad enough mood; though admittedly, the only thing stopping Gwaine from ruthlessly taking the piss out of Arthur’s mother-hen tendencies all the way home was Percival harshly clamping a hand over his mouth and pushing him away.

Merlin looks up to see Arthur staring at him, and the King quickly covers his concern with a look of annoyance when the manservant raises an eyebrow:

“If you’re not going to do anything useful Merlin, get up here, you clearly can’t be trusted to even cower effectively, so you’re going to have to learn to defend yourself.”

Merlin’s eyebrow just rises higher as the rest of the knights’ attention is drawn to the conversation. Lancelot and Mordred hide knowing smiles, well aware than Merlin was more than capable of defending himself, if he really needed to. Gwaine went to open his mouth with teasing grin, though quickly pouts when Percival punches him on the shoulder, and Leon and Elyan smirk at each other before moving their amused gazes to Arthur.

When Merlin doesn’t move, just stares at him disbelievingly, Arthur rolls his eyes and gestures at the half-empty rack of wooden swords:

“Come on, Merlin, up on your feet, grab a sword.”

Merlin just snorts in amusement and shakes his head, settling back against the tree trunk even more:

“Absolutely not. I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much.”

The knights (bar Lancelot and Mordred of course) raise their own eyebrows. Gwaine snorts out loud, stepping up next to Arthur and dropping an overly-friendly hand on his shoulder, much to The King’s displeasure:

“I know you can hold your own in a tavern brawl Merls, but that’s not the same thing as facing bandits and assassins and shit. Princess is right, it might be worth it for you to at least know how to use a sword.”

Arthur turns an accusing gaze on Gwaine, shrugging his hand off as he says:

“And I presume all the tavern brawls Merlin has apparently been getting into are your fault?”

Gwaine grimaces slightly before shrugging with a smirk, and Merlin hides his laughter with a cough before inserting:

“Entirely his fault. Gwaine starts the fights, promptly passes out, and I have to finish them.”

Arthur laughs incredulously; Mordred has to hide the angry clench of his jaw and Lancelot has to hide his sorrow when Arthur replies in a taunting tone:

“I’m meant to believe that you are regularly winning Gwaine’s unfinished fights, am I?”

Merlin shrugs in mock defeat, a grin on his face:

“Believe what you want, Sire, I’ve faced worse than you lot and come out singing, I don’t need training.”

Arthur resists the urge to smirk at the appealing way Merlin manages to make his title sound insulting, and he instead raises his eyebrows:

“You’re not getting out of this, Merlin. I can’t have you bruising yourself every time we leave the city.”

Merlin takes in a deep breath, settling a disconcertingly assessing gaze on The King for a few moments before he sighs and stands up, walking towards the equipment and picking up a sword before turning back to Arthur:

“I suppose you’re right, I doubt any of the other servants would be willing to put up with you if I got too injured. Who would you like me to spar, My Lord?”

Arthur scoffs and shakes his head as the others step back, looking upon the whole scene with fond amusement, bar, once again, Lancelot and Mordred, who are looking an odd mix between concerned and proud. They know that Merlin is capable of more than he lets on, even with a wooden blade.

“You can’t spar with any of us, Merlin, that would be far too dangerous. We’ll start with some basic moves, and then maybe we can move on to a slow, choreographed spar.”

Merlin twirls the sword expertly in his hand, and he’s vaguely away of Gwaine nodding approvingly and Leon raising an eyebrow out the corner of his eye, though he pays them no mind, raising an eyebrow of his own at Arthur:

“Surely starting with a simple spar will tell you my exact skill levels so you can tailor the lessons? You need to know how crap I am before we start.”

Lancelot hides a snort behind a hand, knowing full well that Merlin is just trying to goad Arthur into letting the servant show off his skills without too much effort beforehand. Or without giving Arthur the satisfaction of thinking that he was the one who taught Merlin how to fight. Thankfully, Arthur takes Lance’s snort as a teasing one aimed at Merlin, as opposed to what it really is, so waves him into the ring with a smirk.

Merlin just rolls his eyes, moving to stand opposite his best friend and muttering, just loud enough for everyone to hear:

“Fine, but I’m not taking my shirt off, I’m not as arrogant as you lot.”

Lancelot widens his eyes as Arthur freezes, dread growing in his stomach at the knowledge that The King would take that as a challenge. Arthur turns slowly, a shit-eating grin on his face, and Lancelot grimaces as Arthur claps his hands together:

“Right! I wasn’t going to mention it, but you do have a point, Merlin, if you are to train, you must train as one of us. Come on, tunic off.”

Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine just laugh, but Leon rolls his eyes exasperatedly, and Mordred and Lancelot frown in concern. Neither of them have seen Merlin’s scars in their entirety before, but knowing about the servant’s secret second life had definitely made them more observant than the others, and they had seen hints of old injuries here and there. That’s not even mentioning the times he’s shown up in their chambers, bloody and bruised and in need of treatment, but not wanting to worry Gaius.

Merlin just flushed and stared at him indignantly and Arthur’s teasing grin grew:

“Don’t be shy, Merlin, I’m sure whatever horrific mole or ugly birth mark you’re ashamed of isn’t that bad.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, stepping away from Arthur when he moves towards him. The demand to de-robe, even partially, had immediately put him on edge, and he had gone from playfully annoyed to genuinely irate in a split second. He crosses his arms over his chest protectively when Arthur gestures at him demandingly:

“I don’t have a weird mole, Arthur, you Clotpole, but unlike you lot, I’m not all that keen to show off my old scars.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Merlin was hoping that mentioning his scars in passing would appeal to the knights’ warrior sides, would make them sympathetic to his… shy-ness. It did not. It just made them laugh, even Leon, and they all began to point out various scars they had on their chests and back, remarking that he couldn’t have worse than them.

Gwaine twisted to the side, patting a pink, jagged circle halfway down his back, a grin on his face:

“This beauty is from when I propositioned a lovely fella who was, apparently, already taken. Man’s wife smashed her bottle on the counter and damn near took my eye out with it.”

Elyan cackles at Gwaine’s story, pointing to a perfectly square burn on his shoulder-blade:

“Yeah, well at least you didn’t fall back into a red hot brand at the ripe old age of fifteen because a girl smiled at you.”

Merlin’s back-up plan, which was sneakily sulking off whilst the knights compared their most embarrassing scars, was cut short basically immediately when he heard Arthur yell out:

“Absolutely not, Merlin, I’ve already told you that you’re not getting out of this. Tunic off, spar Lancelot.”

Merlin huffs, annoyed, feeling rather like he was backed into a corner, and Mordred walks forward, to be between him and The King, quietly saying:

“You don’t have to Merlin, just fight with it on.”

Arthur narrows his eyes in suspicion, but before he can say anything, Merlin squares his shoulders and looks at him defiantly, dropping his sword to the floor as he begins unlacing his tunic, his words coming out harshly, his tone dark:

“No, no it’s fine. The King wants to see my scars, and we all know that The King gets whatever he wants.”

The smiles melt rather quickly off the knights’ faces as Merlin speaks, and Arthur flinches slightly at his tone, starting to realise with just a little guilt that maybe this wasn’t funny anymore. He opens his mouth to take it back, to tell Merlin that he was only teasing and he could keep the tunic on if he really wanted to, but before any words come out, Merlin is gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head swiftly and screwing it up before tossing it to the side, not once breaking his stare on the now pale King.

Arthur lets out a sharp breath at the patchwork of scars that cover Merlin’s chest, and he’s vaguely aware of the various low cries and gasps of outrage coming from the knights behind him. There are so many, some are large and some are small, some look to be from clumsiness, but others look like they should have been fatal. Arthur’s eyes can’t focus on just one, he’s barely taking in each scar before his gaze is drawn to another, and then another, and then another; it’s a little overwhelming, and it’s only when he starts to feel a little woozy that he remembers to breath.

When he finally comes to the conclusion that his brain isn’t going to able to process this for a while, he looks up to Merlin’s face, instead taking in his resolute expression and hard eyes:

“Merlin, what… what happened to you?”

Merlin raises a slow, mocking eyebrow before breaking his statue-like stillness and picking his sword up again, turning to face a distraught looking Lancelot. This movement only reveals the second mosaic of scars covering his back, but he speaks over the next round of gasps and muffled curses, his tone still unbearably dark as he gestures Lance to get into position:

“I told you, I’ve faced worse than you lot and come out singing.”

The knights are so distracted by the myriad of scars covering Merlin’s torso that it takes the servant’s first harsh, well-aimed blow with his sword to break them out of their stupor. They watch the ensuing spar with morbid fascination, finding that not only can Merlin hold his own, he’s winning. Lancelot loses his breath and rhythm much quicker than Merlin does, and the fast-paced spar only lasts around three minutes before Merlin lands a strong punch to the centre of Lance’s chest and the knight stumbles back in shock, lowering his sword just enough for Merlin to step forward and trip him up.

The scarred servant’s chest rises and falls deeply, but not too rapidly as he lowers his sword and offers a hand down to the beaten knight. Lancelot takes it with a slightly shocked smile, patting Merlin on the shoulder as he stands. Merlin flinches away from the touch, no one misses it, clearly not too fond of people touching his bare skin, and Lance drops his hand rapidly, frowning only briefly before he smiles again:

“Bloody hell, Merlin. I knew you were good, but not that good.”

Merlin gives him a strained smile, grateful for the distraction. Everyone sees the moment Merlin’s mask goes up again; he gives Lance a smug grin and twirls his sword once again as he shrugs mockingly:

“I’ve been watching you lot train for ten years, and I’ve been in a few sword fights in my time. I picked up a few things.”

Arthur finally reacts, scoffing as he shakes his head in disbelief, scars momentarily forgotten:

“There’s no way that you can- that was a fluke.-”

He looks smug as he says it, like he’s figured out some great secret, and Mordred lets out a low, annoyed growl; no one notices thankfully, but Merlin shoots him a quick frustrated line across their mental link:

“Please try not to antagonise him any further.”

Mordred looks to him, keeping his face blank as he nods almost imperceptibly. Lancelot and Gwaine look openly disapproving of Arthur’s assertion, but Leon, Percival, and Elyan look almost convinced. Arthur nods decisively, picking up his sword once again and waving it in Merlin’s direction:

“-My turn. And once I’ve beaten you, you’re going to tell us about all of… that.”

Merlin’s eye twitches, but he doesn’t say anything, just nods slightly as he holds a placating hand out in Lancelot’s direction when it becomes obvious that his best friend is going to start trying to defend him.

Arthur takes Lancelot’s place in the ring and Merlin grips his sword tightly, his shoulders tense and his face showing only mild annoyance, despite the anger that Lancelot and Mordred were sure was simmering under his façade. At Arthur’s nod, Leon reluctantly counts them in, and the match begins.

This one is somehow even more fast-paced, though no one is surprised. The last ten minutes had caught Arthur extremely off-guard. An off-guard Arthur is a grumpy Arthur, and a grumpy Arthur is, unfortunately, still the type to take his frustrations out on others. Arthur wasn’t good at dealing with his emotions, meaning the disturbing mix of horror, guilt, and anger at Merlin’s scars, slight… shock, (because he refuses to call it anything else) at his deceptively strong physique, and surprise that apparently his servant can take out one of his best knights without all that much effort, all together have The King bursting with adrenaline.

He throws blow after blow, but Merlin’s defence is incredibly strong, and Arthur has yet to land a hit anywhere other than the opposing sword. After a couple of minutes, Merlin switches styles, and Arthur almost trips when he realises his servant has, in the space of a second, gone from fighting like Arthur, to fighting like Leon. The knights notice it as well; Gwaine lets out a low whistle and Elyan smacks Leon on the shoulder, pointing incredulously at a sequence of complicated footwork that usually only the First Knight can manage so gracefully. Apparently Merlin can do it too.

Arthur adapts to this quickly; Leon was his sparring partner most often, meaning that he was accustomed to switching between their styles, and they were the most similar fighters in all the group.

Another minute passes, and the pair still don’t slow, seemingly unbothered by their dumbfounded audience and the sweltering heat, and this time Merlin suddenly starts fighting more like Gwaine. Instead of staying on the defensive and trying to trip Arthur up, he goes on the attack, landing heavier and heavier hits as The King barely manages to defend himself in time.

Merlin is quickly growing tired, his stamina not nearly as good as Arthur’s, but The King grows complacent, even with the vicious pace, certain that he just has to wait Merlin out. He was wrong. Arthur finally gets an attack of his own in but Merlin dives to the side instead of blocking it, rolling and coming up to Arthur’s left before the blonde has time to regain his balance and turn around. He freezes in place when Merlin touches his wooden sword to the side of Arthur’s neck. He can feel it shaking, but it’s undoubtedly a killing blow, and when Merlin drops the sword to the floor in favour of bending over, one hand on his knee and the other on his side again as he pants, Arthur turns around faster than he thinks he’s ever moved before:

“How the fuck did you do that?”

Merlin is vaguely aware of the knights all clapping and shouting encouragement at him, but he doesn’t look up, just waves dismissively in Arthur’s direction:

“I told you, I’ve been watching you lot train for years. It’s easy to imitate you after a little practice.”

Arthur just stares at him in disbelief, but Leon hands the servant a water-skin, ripping his gaze from the whip marks on his back with clenched teeth before schooling his tone and face into something more friendly:

“Merlin, you switched styles twice in as many minutes… you beat the best swordsman in the Kingdom after already being tired from another spar, that’s… that’s incredible.”

Merlin drinks the entire skin as Leon speaks, looking up with another playful mask on his face:

“Well believe me, I’m so sore I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do it again.”

Merlin’s smile drops when he realises everyone is back to staring at him, more specifically, his scars. He steps away from the curly-haired knight, who furrows his brows in concern and resists the urge to reach a comforting hand out to him. Merlin crosses his arms over his chest defensively, hunching his broad shoulders slightly as he frowns at the floor.

Lancelot quickly throws his tunic to him, and Merlin scrambles to pull it on as quickly as possible, but before he can even get his arms through the right holes, Arthur snatches it away, a stern, angry look on his face. Though every one of then can see the badly hidden concern as well:

“No, you agreed to tell us.”

Merlin makes a move for his tunic, but Arthur jumps out of his reach. The servant huffs, annoyed and close to tears all of a sudden as he petulantly replies:

“Actually, you said once you beat me, I had to tell you. I won.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, taking another step back:

“I’m happy to go another round if you are, Merlin?”

Merlin glares at him angrily for another few moments before completely sagging, staring at the floor with sad, tired eyes as his arms drop to dangle at his sides. Arthur and the knights are completely taken aback at Merlin’s sudden change of disposition, though it heartbreakingly strikes them as less of a change and more of a... reveal. A reveal of some kind of sadness that’s been there all along. How did they not notice this??

Arthur’s breath hitches and his tight clutch on Merlin’s tunic loosens slightly as he all but whispers:

“Merlin... who did this to you?”

Merlin finally looks up at him, letting out a humourless chuckle as he rakes a hand through his sweat-dampened hair roughly:

“Does it matter? Most of them are dead, I-”

His eyes narrow and his voice lowers. The knights hear it nonetheless:

“... I made sure of that .”

Arthur lets out a huff of frustration, not bothering to hide the desperation in his eyes as he pleads:

“Please, Merlin, you’re my... subject, you’re meant to be under my protection. And don’t lie, none of these are more than eleven or twelve years old at most and you got here ten years ago, so they happened in Camelot, under my watch. Please, Merlin.”

Merlin sighs, walking towards the tree’s shade once again. For a moment Arthur panics, thinking he’d pushed Merlin too far as he turned away, knowing that if this conversation wasn’t had now, their relationship would never be the same. But before The King can say anything, the servant slumps back into place against the tree trunk, sitting cross-legged again and biting his lip as he looks at Arthur expectantly.

Before anyone else can move, Mordred and Lancelot take the places either side of Merlin, sitting protectively close. Lance gives Mordred a pointed look, to which the younger knight nods before settling a blank expression on the side of Merlin’s head. Merlin doesn’t look back at him, but pats the knight’s knee as the corner of his mouth turns up briefly in a barely-there smile.

Arthur narrows his eyes, but stores that odd exchange in the back of his mind to deal with at a later date before sitting across from Merlin; the other knights look to each other, worried, before settling in the empty spaces to complete the circle. The group is silent for a while, all staring at a statue-still Merlin who in turn is staring at the grass in front of him; he doesn’t move even when Lancelot brings his hand into his lap, stroking his thumb over the servant’s knuckles absent-mindedly.

It’s Percival that finally breaks the silence, asking in a quiet voice:

“What happened, Merlin?”

Merlin looks up suddenly, as if he had forgotten he had company, taking in a deep breath and tightening his grip on Lance’s hand. He gulps before once again running his free hand through his hair, shrugging slightly as he mutters:

“I don’t recall all of them in perfect detail, just ask about... whatever catches your eye I guess, and we’ll see what I can remember.”

The knights all nod, looking to each other expectantly, no one really wanting to go first. Eventually Leon clears his throat, his voice gentle:

“Why don’t we start with the whip marks on your back?”

Merlin nods, grateful that they were at least starting off with the non-magical injuries. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as he speaks, his voice croaky and quiet:

“The newer ones are from Cenred, from a few years ago. He wanted information and I spat at his feet and told him to fuck off. He... he didn’t take too kindly to that.”

Gwaine lets out a quiet curse, and Arthur sits up straight, saying in a crackingly authoritative voice:

“Merlin, if anyone ever tries to extract information from you again, you give them anything. Everything. We’ll deal with the fall-out afterwards, it is not your job to withstand torture.”

The other knights nod approvingly but Merlin just looks up at The King with a raised eyebrow:

“Like hell. I can put up with a remarkable amount, I’d never sell Camelot, or you, out. Never, Arthur.”

Arthur huffs and resolutely ignores the tears gathering in his eyes, but Elyan beats him to the mark:

“That’s not... you shouldn’t have to put up with anything Merlin, it’s not necessary. You just... keep yourself safe. We’ll worry about everything else.”

The other knights nod again, but Merlin scowls and tenses even further, even as Lancelot squeezes his hand comfortingly:

“I’ve been through literal hell, multiple times, in order to protect my home and the people that are important to me. I’m not going to stop that just because it makes you lot uncomfortable, and you have no right to tell me to it’s not my place.”

Everyone looks desperate to argue, but they can’t deny that, after what they’ve seen today, in the last half a candle-mark only, Merlin is evidently a lot stronger than they’ve ever given him credit for. Both physically and mentally. Leon just gives Merlin a small smile and nods; he’s the only one here who has known Merlin just as long as Arthur, and he may not be as close to the younger man as The King or Lance or Gwaine or Mordred, but he’s seen his loyalty in action several times over the years:

“You said the newer ones were from Cenred. You’ve been flogged more than once?”

Merlin nods at the knight, grateful for his understanding and change of subject, even if said change of subject was back to his scars. His expression turns slightly guilty as his gaze moves to Arthur, and The King has a feeling he’s going to feel incredibly terrible at whatever it is Merlin is about to say:

“The others are from... uh.... Uther.-”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath as the tears he had just about managed to get under control gather again. The other knights just look angry, bar Leon, who, though miserable, looks as though he sort of expected it:

“-He didn’t like me very much.”

Arthur whispers his response:

“When? Merlin, when and why did my father have you flogged, and how did I not know about it?”

Merlin tenses his jaw, going from guilty to angry in a split second, snapping his response:

“Why do you think?!-”

Arthur recoils and Merlin closes his eyes briefly as he takes a deep breath, looking back to Arthur with a blank mask and speaking in a monotone voice:

“What did you think he would do every time I took the blame for you missing a meeting or a meal or a training session because you were entertaining a woman or pissing about with your knights? I had to walk into the council room and apologise for your absence because I slept in or I forgot to tell you or I sent you on a hunt on the wrong day. Uther was in the habit of burning people and chopping off an alarming number of heads, did you really think I would get away with it punishment free??

Arthur goes pale as a sheet and his hands tremble with the understanding. He shakes his head slightly as he looks to his lap, ignoring the tears on his cheeks as he murmurs:

“Merlin I am so sorry, I didn’t... I didn’t think... if I had known I would have duelled him in the damn town square to protect you.-”

Arthur looks up sharply, wiping his face clean as he settles an assessing gaze on his servant, ignoring Gwaine’s murderous glare as he slowly continues:

“-... which is exactly why you never told me, isn’t it?”

Merlin shrugs, a small smile on his face:

“You may never admit it, Arthur, but you were protective of me, even then.”

Arthur flushes slightly, before frowning again and shaking his head:

“You should have told me, it’s my job to protect you.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly:

“I think we’ve already had this conversation.”

Arthur huffs and narrows his eyes again, good-naturedly this time, and Merlin just rolls his eyes before seeming to sag again, speaking quietly:

“Come on, next one.”

Elyan raises his hand slightly before pointing to the centre of Merlin’s chest:

“How the hell did you get a burn like that?”

Merlin tenses, rubbing a hand over the roughly circular, pink and white scar in the centre of his chest. The flesh looked melted in places, white scar tissue spider-webbing out from his sternum, beginning to fade just before it stretched around his sides, and stopping a few inches above his naval:

“Witch threw a fireball at me. Hurt like hell, but there was quite a lot of adrenaline at the time so I didn’t really notice the pain until later.”

Gwaine raises an eyebrow, evidently trying to control his anger as he asks, in a shaking, though forceful, voice:

“And what were you doing fighting a witch powerful enough to throw fire around?”

Merlin stops rubbing at the scar when Lancelot tugs his hand and Mordred mutters “You’re going to hurt yourself, Merlin.” in his head, curling his hand tightly in his lap instead and speaking slowly, as if he were choosing each word individually:

“Only Leon and Arthur were in Camelot for that. Arthur was dying from the Questing Beast bite, I... went to the Isle of the Blessed to speak to the followers of the Old Religion. There was said to be someone there who had power over life and death and I... Arthur was dying, I had to try.-”

Arthur’s eyes widened at Merlin’s words, mostly the mention of such a power, but stays silent, nodding at him to continue:

“-But the Old Religion requires balance, a life for a life,-”

Leon releases a deep breath, looking to the floor at the implication with his eyes closed, and Arthur lets out a whispered whimper, knowing the depths of Merlin’s loyalty:

“-I offered my own in exchange for Arthur’s. She, Nimueh, that is, accepted,-”

Arthur opens his mouth to say something, he’s not sure what, but before he can yell about Merlin’s self preservation, he notices the darkness on his dearest friend’s face and his voice catches in his throat. Merlin stares at the floor, his face drawn and angry and his voice stormy and clipped:

“-but she tried to trick me. I didn’t appreciate that, we fought, she died. Her life for Arthur’s: the deal was done.”

An audible gasp goes up around the circle, and Percival, who is (other than Merlin and Mordred of course) the most well versed in Magic Info, responds breathlessly:

“Merlin... Nimueh is a High Priestess, The master over Life and Death, she’s very very powerful.”

Merlin looks up at the gentle giant sharply, his gaze unforgiving and his tone harsh:

“Yeah, and she’s also very very dead, because she pissed me off.”

Percival gulps and lowers his gaze, but Arthur seems to have missed everything the two of them just said as he stares blankly at his servant:

“You’d barely known me a year, and I’ll admit that I was an arse back then, and you tried to give your life for mine. Why?”

Merlin looks at him curiously, not responding for a few moments as his anger dies down and his pride grows:

“I had it on good authority that you would become a Great King one day. It only took a little squinting to see it, you were a good man, a man I was, and still am, prepared to sacrifice myself for. You were an arse, yes, you still sort of are, but I have faith in you, always have, always will.”

Lancelot and Mordred smile fondly at him as the other knights stare dumbfounded, but Arthur clenches his jaw, ignoring the shaking in his voice as he says:

“Well, I... I forbid it. You are officially forbidden from sacrificing yourself for me, legally.”

Gwaine perks up slightly:

“Out of curiosity, do we all get the same-”

Arthur interrupts him with a forceful, though slightly amused:

“Shut up, Gwaine. And no, you’re a knight, your entire job description is to jump head first into danger so I don’t have to. I have every faith that you’ll die for me one day.”

Everyone lets out quiet snorts at that, bar Gwaine of course, who looks jokingly affronted before he nods and shrugs, quietly muttering “Yeah, fair enough,-”, the rest of his sentence (”especially considering you’re in love with him but not any of us.”) goes unheard and unchallenged.

Merlin chooses not to respond to Arthur’s demand, but everyone knows that’s his way of not committing to anything, knowing full well that Merlin had never listened to Arthur’s orders before, and sure as shit wasn’t going to start now.

“Next one.”

Merlin’s face had fallen slightly, knowing he wasn’t going to get away with explaining only two sets of scars, and Gwaine asks next, his eyes being drawn to Merlin’s gesturing hand:

“The red bands around your wrists and neck. They look like burns, but not very deep ones. How did they scar if they weren’t deep?”

Merlin looks down at the scars on his wrists, resisting the urge to absent-mindedly claw at the one he knows sits low on his neck. They’re about two inches wide, pale pink and almost impossible to see in the dark but impossible not to see in the light of the noon sun, even sat in the shade. The edges were clean cut and perfectly straight, and Merlin winced slightly at the memory of his magic being contained in such a way.

He looks around the circle, speaking easily. Though it was painful, it was no where near the worst Merlin has ever had, and even if he couldn’t tell the full truth, it felt sort of nice not to have to hide these ones:

“Some sort of enchanted chains, they drained my energy, made me sick and tired, but the magic in the metal sort of... stung, I guess. I don’t really know. I’d been captured by Morgause (is Morgana not mentioned in this entire fic but still Good? Yes.) again and I suppose she didn’t want to take any chances.”

Everyone looks shocked at his casual admission, and Leon is the first to break the tense silence:

“When were you captured by Morgause?”

Before Merlin can respond, Arthur pipes up incredulously:

“Again. You said again. Merlin, how many times have you been kidnapped by Morgause without anyone realising? How many times have you been kidnapped in general?!”

Merlin winces slightly, speaking in a slightly defensive tone as he stares at Arthur as though the answer is obvious:

“Arthur... I’m The King’s personal manservant. I have the power to overrule the Steward and the Housekeeper if I wanted to; as far as servant’s go, I have the most authority, even more than some low level nobles, especially when it comes to running the citadel. I’m sort of... a big deal. I have access to pretty much any information I could want, even more than this lot-”

He gestures to the knights around the circle. Mordred and Lancelot look a little proud once again, Leon is staring at Arthur, shocked that The King didn’t know this, and everyone else stares at Merlin, only just realising that... Merlin was right. None of them have considered it before, but he practically runs the castle.

“-most of the time, and I’m the only one who knows every single state secret, simply from my proximity to you and your council and your paperwork. That is rather... desirable to people like Morgause, people who want to attack Camelot.”

Merlin purses his lips awkwardly as everyone stares at him blankly, but Gwaine is the first to break the silence:

“... and we’ve just been letting you walk around, unprotected.”

Merlin raises as eyebrow:

“I think we’ve already established I don’t need protection.”

Arthur huffs and throws his hands up awkwardly:

“Well you obviously do, if you’re getting kidnapped so often. When even was this?? You haven’t disappeared for a while, and we haven’t had any trouble from Morgause in months.”

Merlin’s face falls, and the knights are taken aback at the reappearance of the... cruel darkness in his expression:

“Believe me, I know. She... won’t be bothering us any longer, I wasn’t fond of her repeated attempts to kill me or you so I... took care of it.”

The knights go pale at Merlin’s casual admittance of killing yet another High Priestess of the Old Religion. He smirks into his lap briefly until Lance once again squeezes his hand, as if reminding him of the mask he should be wearing. Arthur stares at his servant and long time friend, struggling to reconcile the clumsy ideal he has in his head with this... hardened, tortured protector:

“How? Nimueh and Morgause... just... how??”

Merlin’s eyes slowly move up to meet Arthur’s gaze, and The King gulps at the assessing way the servant tilts his head:

“Playing the role of clumsy rural idiot can be a little demeaning sometimes, but it also means that people tend to underestimate me. They think I’m an easy target, and by the time they realise I’ve played them, it’s too late.”

Arthur recoils slightly, and Merlin once again changes dispositions, shrugging casually and smiling easily, his tone light:

“You can get away with a remarkable amount when people think you’re stupid.”

The circle lets out an in-sync breath. All of them knew that Merlin wasn’t stupid by any stretch of the imagination, but they didn’t realise just how smart he is. None of them would admit it, but Elyan, Leon, Percival, Arthur, and even Gwaine on some level, still subconsciously considered Merlin “just a servant” in the back of their minds. At least... they did.

(Not that that old thought process made them think any less of him, they just didn’t think of him as complicated, as a warrior.)

Merlin takes a deep breath, knowing that his friends would never see him in the same way, but sort of hoping that that was a good thing, gesturing vaguely to the circle once again. Arthur asks the next question, touching his hand to the back of his own neck softly:

“There’s a cut on the back of your neck. It looks deep, like it was reopened over and over, what is it?”

Merlin grimaces slightly, wiping his free hand over his face in exhaustion as Lancelot squeezes his other hand, and Mordred pats his knee comfortingly:

“That one was a few years ago, courtesy of Morgause again. She put something called a Fomorrah in me-”

Percival gasped slightly, harshly whispering “Gods.” under his breath. Arthur spares him a quick glance, making a mental note to question how his knight seems to know so much about sorcery at a later date:

“-so she could try to make me kill Arthur; it sort of... controls you. Makes you only able to focus on whatever instruction you’re given when it’s first put in you. Gaius kept having to cut it out of me, it wouldn’t stop re-growing until we killed the rest of it’s body, and that was with Morgause somewhere out of the city.”

Arthur looked a little outraged, hiding the worry of “I now know that Merlin could kill me without any trouble at all so how the fuck am I alive?”. Apparently he doesn’t hide it well; Merlin gives him a comforting smile and shrugs his shoulders slightly:

“I fought the compulsion pretty well, kept coming up with increasingly complicated assassination plans instead of just... stabbing you in your sleep or something.”

Arthur goes to respond, but he’s interrupted by Leon loudly cursing, his eyes wide as he stares at Merlin with flushed cheeks:

“I just... gave you a crossbow!! You said you were going to kill Arthur and I thought you were joking and I let you walk out the armoury with a crossbow and a handful of bolts!!”

Merlin chuckles, a blush of his own rising as he responds, rubbing the back of his neck again:

“Yeah... I don’t really remember it, but Gaius and Gwen filled me in on what had happened. To be fair, it’s kind of flattering that you never considered that I was the assassin, despite the repeated attempts being made on Arthur’s life and the fact that I admitted it to your face.”

Leon stares at the floor with wide eyes, seemingly trying to process the fact that he had pointed a would be assassin in the right direction, muttering something along the lines of “oh my Gods oh my Gods oh my Gods” over and over until Elyan awkwardly patted him on the back, breaking him from his embarrassed horror.

Arthur clears his throat, staring at Merlin with an almost unreadable expression:

“I did wonder why the attempts just... stopped?”

Merlin understands the question in his tone and nods slightly before replying:

“Hmm. Gaius and Gwen figured out it was me, found a way to paralyse the thing in my neck until I managed to get back to Morgause’s little lair and kill the main body.”

Arthur nods distractedly. How many times had this happened? “This” being something entirely ridiculous and/or incredibly dangerous right under his nose.

Percival clears his throat and Merlin looks to the nervous man, nodding at him to ask whatever it was that was on his mind, despite his growing discomfort:

“There’s... on your back, it looks like a stab wound but... worse. The veins around it are black and it looks painful despite it’s obvious age and... well... it looks like a Serket Sting, but it... it can’t be, right?”

Merlin tenses, back to looking as exhausted and scared and as ready to bolt as he had at the beginning of the conversation. Lancelot squeezes his hand again, tightly this time, and Mordred takes his other to stop him from clenching it too harshly, murmuring:

“You don’t have to, Merlin, not this one.”

Arthur clenches his jaw at the knowledge that two of his knights had known about this. Had known the collage of agony on Merlin’s body, had known what he’d been through and done nothing. Hadn’t prevented it, hadn’t brought it to Arthur, hadn’t protected him. But equally, with how protective and loyal and secretive Merlin is, and how heartbroken the two of them had looked when Merlin first took his tunic off, they likely hadn’t known the full extent of damage.

Merlin just sighs and shakes his head, sensing the curious stares of the others before rising to his knees and turning around, running a shaking hand over the scar briefly before dropping his hand to his side again. The others stare, astounded. They’d only caught brief glimpses of it before, but now they could see it properly it was undoubtedly a Serket Sting.

The deep puncture mark on his lower back had closed up, but the skin was still sunken in slightly, red and angry looking with hints of purple towards the middle. Percival was right: dark veins, as if permanently poisoned, stretched out from the centre of the wound, dipping below the waistband of his trousers and fading about halfway up his back.

After a few moments, Merlin turns around again and sits back down, placing his still shaking hand back in Lance’s lap without prompting. Arthur’s one-word question is whispered and cracked, and no one judges him for the tears in his eyes; most of them have tears of their own gathering and falling at their friend’s pain:

“How?”

Merlin gulps, not looking up as he leans slightly into Mordred’s shoulder. The young knight presses back, knowing how fond the servant is of warm pressure, not minding the sticky sweatiness of their still uncovered torsos in the noon heat:

“Morgause again. She got annoyed with me always ruining her plans, getting in the way. Left me chained up in the middle of a nest of... in the middle of a nest.”

Leon takes a deep breath, rubbing his eyes harshly and sniffing before asking, his voice strong despite the slight waver:

“How did you survive that? I’ve... I’ve seen men get stung by serkets and it’s not... nice.”

Merlin breathes shakily, his mouth open slightly as he stares at the floor, memories flashing through his mind and the scar on his back twinging uncomfortably. Again, Percival was right, despite it’s age, it did still hurt. He takes one last deep breath, clenching his eyes shut tightly before looking up at the curly-haired knight, not quite making eye-contact:

“I uh... a lot of screaming, and the help of an... old friend. I was out of Camelot for a few days whilst I recovered, my friend didn’t fancy being executed for helping me, for just existing.”

Arthur furrows his brows but the others, bar Leon, nod in understanding, looking only slightly guilty and not looking to The King as he asks:

“What do you mean? If someone has found a way to cure a Serket sting then they most definitely wouldn’t be executed for it.”

Elyan snorts and Mordred and Lancelot frown at the floor as Merlin stares at Arthur with poorly concealed contempt:

“Arthur... the cure for a Serket sting has been around for centuries, it just involves very strong, very complicated magic. I didn’t fancy dying in absolute agony, and my friend didn’t fancy being executed for the act of saving my life so we stayed away from the city whilst he treated me.”

Arthur looks at his servant, dumbfounded and confused, and the knights stay silent in their awkwardness. Leon, a lifelong citizen of Camelot, is the only other person to look surprised at Merlin’s explanation, though he nods after a few moments, conceding that it... makes sense. Of course it does.

Mordred frowns when he notices Merlin’s knee begin to bounce up and down slightly, but it’s the way he gulps and tightens his grip on Lance’s hand that has the two knights begin to properly worry. They share a quick look, obviously agreeing on something, before Mordred takes Merlin’s other hand and settles a soft touch on his vibrating knee whilst Lancelot looks to Arthur:

“I think we’re done for the day. This has been... a lot.”

Merlin is getting paler by the second and Mordred can sense the man’s distress, shooting Lance a desperate look before subtly trying to shuffle closer to Merlin, who leans even further into his touch. Arthur doesn’t seem to notice, looking annoyed at Lancelot’s assertion and rolling his eyes before moving his gaze back to Merlin’s quivering form:

“No, Merlin’s suffered and I need to know why. There are mace wounds on both your shoulders, I remember one, but not the-”

Arthur is interrupted by a low whine from the back of Merlin’s throat as he thumps his head back against the tree, eyes still shut tightly. His words out come quietly and broken, as if it were a struggle to breathe, let alone speak:

“Can we please stop now?”

Mordred ignores Arthur, moving to kneel in front of the servant whilst Lancelot glares at The King. Arthur just huffs slightly, though he obviously completely underestimates the distress his friend is in, looking concerned, but not letting up:

“Merlin, we’ve barely gone through a third of them, we can’t stop-”

Lancelot lets out a low growl, letting go of Merlin’s hand and moving towards Arthur, glaring as he says:

“Arthur, we need to stop. Now.”

The young King looks taken aback, though the argument is stopped in his throat when Mordred’s quiet voice interrupts him:

“Merlin, you need to breathe.-”

He peers around the young knight as best he can, but Lance’s still vicious glare stops him from moving too close. Mordred brings one of Merlin’s hands up, pressing it against his chest and continuing his soft instructions:

“-Copy my breathing, alright? Can you tell me where you are right now, Merlin?”

The knights all stare on in horror at Merlin’s pale skin and ragged breathing, staying still in their places when Lancelot gestures at them firmly. It’s Merlin’s next word, cracked and whispered, that trigger another round of tears to gather in their eyes:

“C...cave.”

Mordred shakes his head slowly and Lancelot curses under his breath, kneeling back next to Mordred and retaking Merlin’s other hand, holding it between his own securely. Mordred’s soft voice floats in the wind, and if the knights weren’t so distracted by their friend’s pain, they would think it sounds almost magical:

“No, you’re safe, Merlin. Think, listen, feel. Can you try to tell me where you are again?

Merlin shakes his head roughly, his still-shut eyes not stopping the tears from squeezing out as he flinches, strikes of lightening-like agony shooting out from the scar on his lower back. Lance worries his lip between his teeth, rubbing one of his hands up and down Merlin’s shivering arm; a nod from Mordred has Lance speak, his words soft and low despite the waver in his voice:

“Merlin, you know where you are, and me and Mordred are right here with you. You need to open your eyes buddy, tell us where we are.”

Merlin’s breathing instantly seems to calm a little at Lancelot’s voice, and he cracks his bloodshot eyes open, immediately sighing when his blurry gaze lands on the canopy above him, whispering:

“Tree... sky... Camelot.”

The others can see Mordred let out a relieved sigh, and they force themselves to relax slightly. Merlin’s body sags again and Lance frowns, but the young servant’s stuttering words as he stares blankly up into the tree interrupt any reassurance he could have offered:

“Please, I can’t... I don’t... please don’t make me-”

Lance stills his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, not even paying the slightest bit of attention to anyone else as he replies:

“No one’s going to make you, Merlin, we can carry on another day-”

Arthur’s interrupted “But-” is quickly shut down when Lance turns around to glare at him, a sharp “-I said we’re done for the day.” sent his way.

Merlin flinches again, the pain in his back getting worse and worse and making it harder to keep a grasp on reality, so damning the consequences, Mordred presses a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes and he mouths the words to a sleeping spell as quietly as he can. Thankfully, everyone’s attention is on the glaring contest between Lancelot and The King, so no one immediately notices the way Merlin falls forwards into Mordred’s arms, not until he nudges Lance in the leg and mutters:

“He passed out. We should get him to Gaius, he needs proper rest and pain medication.”

Lancelot nods his head firmly, back to ignoring Arthur and the others as he moves to Merlin’s side, pulling his arm over his shoulder as Mordred does the same on the servant’s other side. Mordred’s eyes scan over the knights, searching for whoever looks the most likely to help without question; his gaze stills on a terribly worried looking Gwaine:

“Gwaine, run ahead to warn Gaius, tell him that Merlin had a really bad episode and then passed out.”

Gwaine gulps but nods, gathering his tunic in quick hands and putting it on haphazardly as he sprints back to the castle. Mordred and Lancelot adjust their grips, standing and bringing Merlin up with them as they turn in the direction Gwaine had ran and begin the careful journey back to the citadel. The knights follow behind them closely, hastily dressing themselves and desperate to ask questions, but knowing that now was not the time. Elyan jogs ahead of them to open doors and clear a path, and Percival had grabbed Merlin, Lancelot, and Mordred’s tunics as Leon put all of the swords away before catching up.

Thankfully they don’t come across many people, though Lance and Mordred still do their best to conceal Merlin between them, knowing that he would be distraught if anyone else saw his scars. They make good time to Gaius’ chambers, and they find the Physician preparing a few strong pain potions and sleeping draughts as Gwaine paced.

Gaius looks incredibly worried, but unsurprised, and Lance and Mordred carry Merlin up to his room without prompting; the sick feeling in Arthur’s stomach tells him that they’re practiced at this. The King goes to follow them, but they kick the door shut behind them so they can have at least a little privacy whilst they settle their friend in his bed. They leave the covers off, knowing that he’d just overheat or kick them off in the nightmares that they know are coming. Lance nods knowingly at Mordred, and the younger of the two moves swiftly back into the main room, shutting the door behind him again softly, avoiding eye contact with anyone bar Gaius, even as Percival hands him his tunic.

The elderly Physician raises an eyebrow, and Mordred answers the wordless question quietly, though not quiet enough for the other knights to not hear him:

“Not yet, but soon, he’ll definitely need a sleeping draught to get him through it. It was his back, so he’ll need the strongest pain one you’ve got.”

Gaius nods, picking up two of the many concoctions he had prepared, not reacting to Arthur’s desperate questions, leaving the conversation to Mordred:

“What are you talking about? Get through what??”

Mordred sighs and frowns slightly, unable to get over all of his anger at the King for pushing Merlin so far:

“The nightmares. He always gets them, especially after an episode that bad.”

Arthur recoils, just a little horrified, but Gwaine beats him to the mark, asking in a shaking voice:

“Episode??”

Mordred moves his gaze to the worried knight, a little more sympathetic to the man he knew was more loyal to Merlin than he was to The King:

“Flashbacks, panic attacks. Merlin has been through... a lot. Chronic pain or difficult conversations sometimes trigger a sort of... breakdown, he struggles to differentiate between memories and reality. Normally he can just wait it out with a little help. When it’s really bad we put him to sleep, it’s the only way to stop him from hurting himself accidentally.”

Everyone looks horrified at that, their focus on Mordred rather than Gaius, who was stealthily ascending the steps to Merlin’s room, potions in hand. Arthur is the first to break the tense silence:

“How long? How long as he been getting these episodes, and why the hell did no one think to tell me?!”

Mordred moves his harsh gaze back to The angry King, glaring at him when his voice rose:

“With all due respect, My Lord, lower your voice. Merlin needs rest, he needs to not be disturbed.”

Arthur looks annoyed, though still heartbroken, but nods slightly, almost whispering as he responds:

“You didn’t answer my questions. How long, and why wasn’t I told?”

Mordred sighs, looking to the floor briefly as he crosses his arms over his chest . After a few moments of considering his answer, he finally looks up again, suddenly appearing exhausted and resigned as he replies softly:

“I don’t really know. He didn’t tell us, we just... found out. It took us a while to convince him to explain it properly and let us help. He didn’t want anyone worrying or treating him like glass; it doesn’t happen very often at all, and this is... this is the worst one I’ve ever seen.”

Arthur frowns and shakes his head slightly, but it’s Leon that speaks next:

“Why not tell us, at least? What if something had happened and you weren’t with us? We wouldn’t have known what was wrong.”

Mordred takes a deep breath and shrugs, nodding slightly, obviously aware that he couldn’t tell them about his and Merlin’s mental link:

“We tried telling him that, but he wouldn’t have it. We were maybe one more conversation away from convincing him to tell Gwaine or Guinevere, but I guess that’s not necessary anymore.”

Arthur pushes down the twinge of jealousy that Merlin had never even considered telling him, but it obviously shows on his face; Mordred scowls slightly, clenching his hands to try and cover his annoyance. Before either men can say anything, Lancelot comes back down from Merlin’s room, leaving Gaius with the young servant:

“It’s starting, Mordred we need to go, everyone else, out.”

Percival throws Lance’s tunic to him as the knights move to the door, albeit reluctantly, but Arthur doesn’t move, glaring down at Mordred angrily when the younger man stops him from going into Merlin’s room:

“He’s my manservant, I want to be there when he wakes up.”

Mordred narrows his eyes, and Arthur kicks himself for never realising how much Merlin meant to him before now, but before the knight can say anything, Lancelot steps up next to him, answering in his stead:

“No, me and Mordred will be there, that’s all he needs. You need to go, My Lord.”

Arthur gears up to argue, to pull rank, squaring his shoulders and snarling slightly, but an angry Lancelot is something he’s never seen and never had to deal with before, so he’s far too surprised to say anything when the knight interrupts his posturing:

“I said no, Arthur. He has to pretend in front of you. You’ve already done this to him,-”

He gestures angrily to the door to Merlin’s room:

“-he needs to not tense up and stress out immediately upon waking up.”

Arthur steps back slightly, but clears his throat, pushing through the slight heartbreak and guilt to argue:

“Oh, and he doesn’t have to pretend in front of you two?”

Mordred rolls his eyes, giving Lancelot a pointed look before stalking up to Merlin’s room, leaving the older knight to deal with the angry King. Lance clenches his jaw and lets out a harsh breath, looking away briefly, as if trying to stop himself from saying anything cruel, before giving up and glaring back at Arthur:

“No. He doesn’t. Because we, and Gaius, are the only people who actually know the first thing about Merlin, and he trusts us. He needs space, and time to heal, and comfort, not the demanding presence of a King whose already pushed him too far, who treats him like shit and forces him to think he has to hide who he is. For God’s sake, Arthur, can you please, for once, think of anyone but yourself.”

Arthur widens his eyes, and though Lancelot looks a little like he regrets what he said, he doesn’t back down, nodding to the door behind Arthur and not moving away until The King steps back again. Arthur takes a deep breath, turning to exit the Physician’s chambers before the knight could see the guilt on his face and the tears in his eyes. He leaves without looking back, ignoring the gaggle of knights waiting worriedly in the hall and stalking straight to his chambers, only just managing to shut the door behind him before the tears finally started falling.

Back in Merlin’s room, the servant thrashes in his sleep, whimpering despite Mordred’s comforting whispers in his head, Gaius’ hand in his hair, and Lancelot’s soft lap as a pillow.

This... was going to be a tough one.

The End of part 1!!!

This was legit supposed to only be one part buuuuuuut we can all see how that went. Part two will follow on really quickly, but it was getting far too long to leave all as one 😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it, link to part 2(the final part) at the top!! :)

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forcebewitht · 3 years

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Force's Disney Geek Master Theory: Why Twisted Wonderland Is Called Twisted Wonderland

We have all grown to know and love various Disney characters over the years, correct? Yet, I believe a lot of us can argue that not many characters have the same effect on us even as adults today as the Villains do within their respective movies. In the game Disney: Twisted Wonderland as we all know and love, the select boys to Overblot are supposed to have the "souls" of their Villain counterparts, right? But...why is it called "Twisted" Wonderland, then? The truth may lie within something that has been right in front of us all along, my friends: the meaning of a mirror. Ready to buckle in for this one? If so, then here we go!

We have seen all of these guys share character traits, looks, etc with their Disney counterparts, correct? Well, what if I were to tell you that things in terms of the "main" guys that we are supposed to pay attention to aren't exactly what they seem? This could be analyzed in a few different ways, honestly, yet the most prominent way is this: the differences in their personalities- they are reversed. Let us take this bit by bit, shall we?

Ah, yes. The Queen Of Hearts. The ranting, raging, bundle of red, black, and gold we all know and love. (or else heads would roll, I'm sure) One of the things that everybody knows about her is that she's extremely hellbent on the crazy rules that she makes up and is prone to anger honestly very easily. Yeah, you can connect that to Riddle- but think about it for a second. While that rage and the rule thing is still there, it isn't as prominent with him as it was with her, is it? With the Queen of Hearts, her whole "issue" was that she wished to make everybody listen to her and follow her every command- but Riddle was essentially always following the rules of another- not his own. This seemed to make Riddle a little more calm most of the time in terms of how he handled and oversaw things. It wasn't until he actually Overblotted that the "listen to me and only me" thing came out- buuuuuuttttttt I'll get to that part in a bit.

Next: Leona and Scar. While we honestly didn't get to see a lot of what went on behind the scenes in the Outlands in terms of how Scar even met the hyenas to begin with at all, one thing can honestly be said- Scar worked very hard to get where he was. I mean, it's not like you can get an entire pack of rabid, hungry hyenas onto your side in the course of a single day, or maybe even a week (especially as a lion, no less). No, something to that extreme takes careful planning, wording, and stringing along to ensure that nothing goes wrong along the way. The way Scar spoke to Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed made it seem as though he had known them for a looooonngggg time before this- that's where that behind the scenes planning comes in. And then...you have Leona. Leona, from what we can tell in Chapter 2, planned the idea for the "endgame" alright- but he didn't actually act upon any of the plan for himself. Ruggie did. Even in the Lion King, we see that Scar had no problems whatsoever getting his paws dirty a little within his own scheme to take his "rightful place" at the head of Pride Rock- but Leona quite honestly did not a thing once Ruggie was in motion. See where this is starting to head?

Azul and Ursula. Ursula, the Disney baddie queen of my heart Ursula, the Sea Witch. She was known all around the ocean floor for helping out poor little merfolk in secret, wasn't she? Yet, nobody ever really seemed to catch wind of the whole "her turning those who didn't quite fit the bill into polyps" thing, did they? That was one of the things that made her such a honest threat to Ariel herself- because Ursula was cunning. She did things behind the scenes, and sure- we could catch onto it out in the audience (annnddd maybe Sebastian and Flounder as well), but nobody else really seemed to, right? Azul is the complete opposite in this standpoint. He instills direct fear into his "workers" and those even beyond and within his dorm. Like- basically most knew that this dude was bad news to begin with. Azul, mostly, seemed to hide his cunning facade behind a fake yet still seemingly "soft and genuine" smile and act. But all in all, he didn't really attempt to "hide" anything- hell, he even proclaimed his entire plan of what everyone with those things on their heads were gonna do for him in the open! At least when Ursula sang as Vanessa, she was in an almost perfectly enclosed room with nobody else around.

Jamil and Jafar. This comparison here, given what occurs in the movie Aladdin, is honestly one of the biggest possible indicators of this reoccuring theme I shall clarify in a bit. Jafar, while being sneaky, was known for being a more "out there" Disney Villain in terms of his personality alongside that of his partner Iago in the film. He would smile in a sinister way, he would crack jokes out in the open, and let us not forget his crazed yet oddly interesting laughter. Jamil? He's the exact opposite. Given his past and what he has had to dealt with growing up with Kalim, he is much more reserved and barely releases a chuckle or cracks a smile at all. His personality is a lot more repressed than that of Jafar himself throughout the film. Jamil has been so used to having to hold himself back thanks to his parents in favor of Kalim's family, he doesn't seem to know how to "let go" whatsoever. Yet Jafar, while still maintaining that sneaky side of him as well, has no problems whatsoever letting a little hang loose whenever he so chooses to.

Vil and the Evil Queen. This one honestly may be a bit more self explanatory than the others- but the difference between these two is their expressions of themselves. The Evil Queen was the very first animated counted Disney Villain within Disney's history- yet, she barely had any lines throughout the film at all. Her ranges of expression were almost little to none thanks to the era in which the movie was released in- but she always looked like she was pissed, huh? Vil is the exact opposite of her in this sense. He is able to fully express himself through his various facial expressions, theatrical abilities, musical experiences, fashion style, and even how he behaves. Vil is able to do so much more than the Evil Queen did or could do within that time period, that it's almost a little staggering if you fully picture it.

Idia and Hades. Now, now. We haven't honestly seen too much of the flaming blue boy yet in TWST, but one thing is apparent here right off the bat- in terms of his personality? He is the exact opposite of Hades. Idia is much like Jamil but to a more "geek" degree- he's extremely introverted, shy, a bit snippy, yet mainly keeps to himself and his gaming tech. Hades is most often renowned as the Disney Villain with the most personality- and the best humor. Hades has no problem whatsoever being "out there" with his crazy puns, sassy remarks, anger, and even mocking behavior. I mean, please, guys- I haven't been this choked up since I got a hunk of moussaka caught in my throat!

Finally, Malleus and Maleficent. Ooooohoooooooo boy. We have to count out the live action movie Maleficent for this one (sorry horned queen fans). One thing that basically everybody even with their toe in the water in that of Disney movies kind of knows this fact- Maleficent is c r u el. She's got a bizarre set of dark powers and an even blacker heart than that. Hell, we basically had to "soften her up" a little bit in Maleficent thanks to just how seemingly irredeemable her character is in that of Sleeping Beauty. I mean, c'mon now- cursing an infant? And we get no explanation for that in the original? C'mon, now. Anyways, Malleus? As we all can tell by now, this dude is the compleeettteeeeeee opposite. Sure, he has those repressed bits here and there too, but it is evident that this dude has a heart crying out for the MC and it is big, bold, and golden to the core once you look past how he looks. He sent the MC a card for winter break, for crying out loud. Yeah, let me know the next time you see Maleficent do that smh.

Now, I have avoided using a certain word up until this point to see if anybody could catch on to what exactly is happening here. Did you figure it out? Reverse. The boys that either have Overblotted already or intend to Overblot soon stop holding out on us, Chapter 6 have had the exact opposite personalities compared to that of their Villain counterpart- until one prime point in their "character arcs". Their Overblot.

Riddle wished to have all bow before him and obey his rules.

Leona led his entire dorm into ruin and nearly sanded away the entire school in the process.

Azul let himself finally free of his personal shackles entirely and "took what was his".

Jamil finally let himself go and opened up more in his personality, almost seeming to be driven insane in the process.

Vil wanted to become the most beautiful one of all and would kill anyone within the way of that goal without any hesitation whatsoever.

The moment that the boys' Overblotted, that was the exact moment when the "soul" of their Disney Villain counterpart took control. Keeping that idea in mind, that should mean that this will happen in the upcoming chapters and their Overblots:

Idia will show off all of the personality, powers, and intelligence that he has been keeping down within this introverted self of his.

Malleus will become so broken by being left out and alone in the cold for the final time that he will turn into a completely cruel Fae and possibly nearly kill either the MC or the representation of Prince Philip within that Chapter in the process.

(Hello, my dear Readers! Guess who is trying to get back into her bigger pieces of writing? This gal right here~ feel free to drop a comment and tell me what you think of this theory- I'd love to hear your thoughts! 💕)

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statticscribbles · 2 years

Text

Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader, When readers Ex returns to town things get dark

TW: Descriptions of Abuse

”Are you uh, Sweet Pea in Y/N’s phone?” The voice sounds tired and Sweet pea nods before he remembers he needs to actually speak.

“Yes; I’m her boyfriend, we’ve been together two years, did you find her phone?”

“I work at the Riverdale Hospi-” “Can I see her?” Sweet pea’s already pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys.

“Of course, they’re just setting her leg now, we’ll have to ask you some questions before you can though.”

“Anything.”

”Sweets!” You try to stand but the Nurse all but pins you down.

“Don’t move miss.” “Y/N what happened?? We’ve been looking for you for hours and then the hospital called and…. Did he do this to you?”

“Yeah, he showed up at my place, demanding I go back with him and shacking up with a gang member wasn’t good for me, and I said how I’d rather be with a gang than with him and he got pissed, I don’t really remember much after he smashed my head against the wall. Is my nose okay?”

“Well it’s in a splint? I think, it looks the same as always just bruised to all hell.” Sweet Pea holds your hand and you nod, smiling a little at him, he finally notes the police officer in the corner of the room.

“You go the cops in-”

“Hey Sweet Pea.” Fp grins at him from under the Sheriff hat.

The serpents file into the hospital room looking uneasily from you to sweet Pea. You’re awake for now, wincing a little as you try to sit up and the nurse scolds you, pushing your shoulders back down.

“We can raise the bed so you can see everyone.” She comments and that settles you. You lean back against the pillows wincing as you have to shift your legs that’s been wrapped in a cast downwards. You know you look horrible and you feel twice as bad, your entire body aches, but Toni and Cheryl make a point of sitting next to your bed on the opposite side and then glaring at Sweet Pea and the rest of the Serpents.

“We want girl bonding.” Cheryl snaps and it hurts when you laugh but you grin at her all the same. You know it’s really some distraction so Sweet Pea can get dragged to the cafeteria to eat something and if they’re lucky they can shove him into the back of a truck to bring him to shower.

”Sweet’s you’re not going to leave her.”

“I know that's why I called you all here, he’s still in Riverdale; don’t like the idea of that but..” Sweet Pea shrugs a little and Fangs nods.

“What?”

“I mean you can stay here, we, as the Serpents, should probably check on him; just to make sure he understands the rules. Right guys?” Sweet Pea tries not to grin as the rest of the Serpents nod slowly, putting their hands up in the fang gesture to show solidarity.

“What about.”

“Bills are paid, they just need to make sure she won’t have brain damage which is just another MRI and some motor skill tests when she wakes up.” Jughead confirms and Sweet Pea finally sighs in relief.

“So where do we start?” He grins, flashing the knives he keeps on his person, but trying not to worry the hospital staff.

“We can start in sunnyside, doubt the dude would ever go near the Northside, seems like they’d rip him to shreds as well. “Mhm, Cheryl mentioned it to the bulldogs, they’re out for blood.” Sweet Pea laughs at the idea of Reggie and Archie trying to team up to get the guy.

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#sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea reader insert #jordan connor #jordan connor imagine #jordon connor reader insert #riverdale request #riverdale reader insert #riverdale imagine #riverdale #written #stattic

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atinydise · 3 years

Text

Ateez arguing with their s/o in a middle of a make out session (part 2)

❦ Genre: Fluff & Suggestive.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 3K.

❦ Requested: Heck yes lol, thank you! 🦋

❦ A/N Note: ⚠️Since I took again an eternity to post it, I advice to read the first part again (or for the first time)! Thank you for liking the 1st one tho! hehe

HONGJOONG

Jongho called the leader once again, even waved in front of his face but still nothing. "Is he ignoring me?" He asked San. His friends shrugged. "He's lost in his thoughts. And he's probably really far away from here." "HYUNG!" Yelled Jongho in the leader's ear. His brain finally reconnected to the reality. "The hell-" "It's been 2 minutes since I'm trying to get your attention." Said Jongho, a bit pissed. "What's going on?" He grabbed his phone, hoping to see any notification. "We need to go back practicing." "Ah.... then I'll join in 2 minutes. I need to call someone." He said, leaving the room. "What on the earth is going on with him?" Whispered San. "No idea." Replied the maknae. Hongjoong went to the restroom, the most far away from the practice room, just to be sure that nobody will bother him. "Okay, please babe pick up." He begged quietly plugging his Air Pods on. [“Hello, it’s the girl who always chosen after her boyfriend’s career. What can I do for you?”] At least you didn’t lose your humor sense.

[“Babe I’m sorry.”] Apologized Hongjoong. [“You are sorry for what exactly?”] [“For ruining the intimate moment, we were about to share.”] [“And?”] Hongjoong rolled his eyes. Good thing for him you weren’t able to see it. [“And to always let my career pass before you.”] [“And?”] You repeated. Your boyfriend was confused for a second. He ignored for what he needed to apologize. [“And... and...”] he stuttered. [“I don’t know.”] He heard a long and heavy growl coming from your side. [“Well. I guess it’s already more than fine.”] You claimed. [“What do you wanted me to say?”] He asked curiously. [“I don’t know... maybe something like ‘to apologize, I’m coming right now and for sure tomorrow you won’t be able to walk’.”] You said, imitating his voice. [“Are you on your period?”] Asked Hongjoong. He knew you so well that he immediately understands when you dirty talked to him, without even a simple stutter. You let a quick silence settle before finally say: [“Yeah.”] [“Then let’s wait a little bit longer then.”] He sneered. [“Coward.”] You replied. [“Love you too.”] [“Me too.”] [“So, we are good?”] He asked. [“Give me at least a hug and we will be good.”] You replied. [“See you tonight then.”] He smiled.

SEONGHWA

[“Hello! You are on Y/N’s voicemail I’m not av-”] Seonghwa growled and let his phone fall on the couch. “She’s not answering I guess.” Claimed Mingi. “No.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “She’s ghosting me since... 2 days now.” “Did you try to meet her at school?” “Yeah. I’ve waited 3 hours there. To finally remember that she’s on spring break.” “And at her apartment?” Asked Mingi. “Of course, Sherlock. But nothing.” Sighed Seonghwa. “It’s like she disappeared.” Mingi raised a brow. “She’s probably doing her own life.” The eldest member was suddenly hit by the reality. “Mingi you are a genius!” “Yeah, I know but why?” “We are Thursday!” Claimed Seonghwa, putting his shoes on. “Yeah and?” “Y/N is doing her laundry every Thursday evening! She might be there.” Seonghwa left the dorm so quickly that Mingi was still processing what just happened. “The beck is wrong with him...” Your boyfriend ran to the laundry shop which you are used to go. He prayed the whole way, that you would be sitting there, reading a book or watching a ton of TikTok while your clothes were washing. His heart missed a beat when he spotted you there. As fast as possible, he opened the door. “Babe!” “Hwa?” You raised a brow. “You came here to tell me how to wash my stuff?” Seonghwa ignored your question and turned around. He saw a cute grandma tidying her clothes. “Excuse me ma’am. But I will need you to leave quickly because I’m about to take my girlfriend, right here and right now.” “Seonghwa!” You yelled, outrageously. “Oh, it’s okay darling. I was young too.” Giggled the old lady. You grabbed your boyfriend by the wrist and guided him outside. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, mad. “I want to apologize!” “Do you think it’s the right way to do it?” “I want to prove you that nothing can bother me to have sex with you now. Not a stain and not even an old grandma.” “And the CCTV?” You pointed at the camera fixed where you were standing 2 minutes ago. “I don’t mind having public.” He smirked. “You are unbelievable.” You sneered. “Does it mean you are forgiving me?” “Maybe.” You replied cockily while entering back inside. “Grr. I love when you play hard-to-get.” “What the hell happened to you Park Seonghwa.” You laughed happily.

YUNHO

Yunho was tormented. It was 3AM and he didn’t close his eyes for a second. He was staring at the white ceiling, trying to know how to resolve this situation. You didn’t talk to him after the little incident. Yunho understood why you were mad. He didn’t tell you the truth and the real reason behind his shyness. He glanced at you. The sheet was barely covering your back. He was about to put it right, but the little voice in his head claimed that it was a bad idea. So, he stared at the big spec between both of you. For sure, you could put a third person in the middle. Yunho sighed. What could you to be less mad? The reason of why he decided to stop earlier was because of the stress, not because you weren’t attractive enough. It was the opposite actually. He truly believes that you will think that is too dumb. Just because he’s scared of doing something wrong. Or worse hurting you. But more he was thinking, more it started to be overwhelming for him. “Y/N.” He whispered. “Hm?” You muttered sleepily. “Y/N.” “What? It’s 3AM.” You grunted, still not facing him. “I’m sorry for what happened this evening. I was terrified. I don’t want to do anything wrong with you.” He continued. “I really find you attractive. Even too much sometimes but... I want to have sex with you of course.” You couldn’t help but to smile secretly. His words were well chosen. All the insecurities you had earlier were vanished. Yunho stayed quiet for few seconds, waiting for you to say something, but instead you handed your hand, still facing the wall. He understood that it was an invitation to cuddle. “So, we are good now?” He asked, positioning behind you. “Yeah.” You replied, rubbing his hand which was resting on your stomach. “Cool.” He whispered, finally relaxing. “Thank you for telling me.” You said. “So... do you want to try it right now?” He shyly asked. “I’m tired Yunho.” You declined. “Sure. Okay. No problem.” He replied. “But can we change our position because you are waking up the ‘beast’?” You laughed when you felt his boner pocking on your butt. “Told you... you were too much attractive sometimes.” He giggled, blushing a bit.

YEOSANG

A new notification. But not coming from you. Yeosang was waiting for you to send a message like you usually do in the morning. But the next day after your little and stupid argument, you were remaining silent. “She should have sent a message already. It’s 10AM.” Said Yeosang, frustrated. “Just let her breath.” Sighed Jongho, playing PlayStation on the upper bed. “I didn’t send a text to her yet. She should be the one apologizing.” “Why?” “We are 2 making love. So? She can buy condoms for me too!” “You right.” Started Jongho. “But you should always have a pack or at least one, on you.” “On which side are you?” Growled Yeosang. “None. Your intimacy isn’t my business. But I just admitted that both of you are wrong.” Declared the maknae. “Since when are you so mature?” Sighed his friend. “I need someone who can tell that I’m right.” Jongho stayed quiet. He would never say something like this when knew he was 100% right. “And she would never buy one because she would be ashamed of it.” Added Yeosang. “The cashier doesn’t care. You are not the only one in the earth to buy one.” Replied Jongho. “We are going to see if you have the same speech when you’ll buy for yourself.” “I do already.” “W-wait what?” Just when Yeosang was getting curious, you entered the room like a storm. “Kang Yeosang!” You threw the plastic bag on him. “What th- ouch!” “Jongho, I will ask you to leave the room for an hour. Or 2.” You removed your jacket. Yeosang opened the bag and threw everything on the bed. His eyes widened when he saw a dozen condoms’ pack. “The hell Y/N-” “I bought exactly 12 packs to show that you don’t need to be ashamed about it and that no one cares.” Jongho exited the room completely flustered, but with a bigger esteem for you. “Okay now remove your pants.” You ordered, pulling out your hoodie. “Like? Right now? Not even a make out-” “It’s been 10 hours that I’m waiting.” “O-Okay.” Yeosang was a bit taken a back, but it was fast forgotten when you unclasped your bra.

SAN

You rolled on your bed once again. You were so frustrated and mad at San. The vein on your forehead couldn't stop popping out every time you remembered him picking up his phone. Angrily, you covered your entire face with a pillow. Desperately, you tried to erase of these thoughts. Just when you were finally finding some peace, the fire alarm resonated in your apartment. You jumped out of your bed and went straight to the kitchen. Instead of seeing a big fire, you saw San opening the window as wide as he could. "What is going on?!" You claimed, grabbing a chair. San was panicked as you, or even more. He was trying to push the smoke out of the room while wondering what you were doing. On your tippytoe, you pushed the button to stop this annoying and loud noise. "Thanks God." Sighed San, relieved. "The heck you are trying to do. Burn my apartment?" You turned off the stove. "I wanted to prepare a royal breakfast for you." He pouted, disappointed that his surprise failed. You looked around you, now that the smoke was slowly disappearing, you could see the entire mess in the kitchen. Flour was spread on every parcel of the counter, one or two eggs were smashed on the floor, milk was spilled on cupboard and an incredible number of dishes were stacked in the sink. "Yeah, that's the first time I make pancakes by myself." He scratched his head. "Choi San..." "I want to apologize for yesterday! But I wanted to do it right!" "Oh nice. So, you said 'to apologize to Y/N because I've completely ghosted her to talk with my teammate that I can see every day, I'll burn her apartment'?" "Babe! I'm really sorry." He apologized once again. "I will do everything you want for a week." "Everything?" You raised a brow, curious. "Yeah." "Okay, then start by cleaning your mess." You pointed at the counter. "After that let's clean the entire apartment." "Sure." He nodded. "After that... we will eat at our favorite restaurant. And you are going to pay." "Wow. Sex must be really important for you." Declared San, when the list didn't stop. "Never stop a horny woman." You warned him.

MINGI

["I'm parked in front of your building. Let's talk really quick."] You read this text message at least 10 times to be sure you understood well. It's been 2 days since the practice room accident. You only exchanged few messages but nothing more. You didn't mind giving him a proper answer. You just put your hoodie back on, and of course by "your" it means "his", and left the dorm, without warning your roommates. But honestly, by the way you went out, dressed like this, they could only assume that you were about to meet Mingi. Just when you got out of the building, you spotted your boyfriend's car, as he said, right in front of the door. You hesitated a second, but finally hoped in. "You should have wear something warmer. It's cold outside." He said instantly, when he saw your bare legs. "Good evening to you too Mingi." You greeted him sarcastically. "Do you drove here, just to scold me about my outfit?" "No, of course no." He whispered, looking right at the street in front of him. Since, a big and awkward silence settled. None of you wanted to say something, too afraid to tell something risky and lead one of you to be mad. It felt like walking on a really straight and thin line. You played nervously with the hem of the hoodie, which was barely covering your legs, you noticed. That's probably why he scolded you. For your own good. As always. "I'm sorry." You both apologized at the same time. You glanced at each other, surprised and giggled cutely. "I'm sorry." Insisted Mingi, grabbing your hand. "Me too." You smiled to him. "Sorry for almost crushing you with my weight." He added. "You did." "And sorry for almost make you bald." "You did it too." Mingi pinched your leg gently, happy to see that you were still bratty sometimes. "Ooookay! I'm kidding! I'm sorry for what I've said too. That's wasn't really nice." "Yeah, it wasn't." "Song Mingi-" "Soo..." you didn't have enough time to say anything that he started the car. "Where are we going?" You asked enthusiastically, putting your seatbelt. "Just want to bring you somewhere. So, we can talk about these 2 terrible days." "Oh, I thought you wanted to go in a Love Hotel." You joked. "That's the plan too." "I-"

WOOYOUNG

2 weeks since your argument but 4 weeks since you shared an intimate moment. You needed to admit that even a flick on your forehead would turn you on. You were so needy. But no way Wooyoung could know it. You tried your best to stay far away from him when sleeping, so you wouldn't end by griding your butt on him, desperately. Usually, Wooyoung was really touchy, and he would initiate a make out session the first one, but surprisingly, he only exchanged a peck or a hug from time to time. You spotted him covering his manhood, with a blanket sometimes. He would always pretext that he is cold. But you are not dumb. He takes shower way much longer than usual tooo. On his side, Wooyoung was really struggling to not give up the first one. He was barely looking at you. He knew that with only one shorty or croc-top, it was over for him. In conclusion, you were 2 idiots trying to suppress their arousal for each other, just because of an argument. "Do you want to watch a movie?" Offered Wooyoung. "Sure, and I know how much you like movies." You smirked. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and ignored your comment. Instead of insisting on the subject again, he played the first movie that appeared. It was a really nice and chill one until the main actress discovered the wild side of college. It started by a scene and then other one. Followed by 3 more. Inside Wooyoung was hoping that you wouldn't notice the form on his sweatpants. "What a movie huh." He laughed nervously. "Yeah." You nodded. "They are really getting it huh." "They are really liking these scenes." "They are really well made." He replied dumbly. "Maybe that's what they want." "Of course, everyone wants that." "Yeah. Everyone." You repeated. "Everyone." "You exchanged a quick glance. Wooyoung was finally the first one to give up. "Do you-" "Heck yes!" You replied. "You should have told me!" "No, I was too mad at you!" "Do you really want to argue again? Right now?" He asked. "No." "Okay then go because I'm going to explode!"

JONGHO

"I still don't understand how you ended here, right in front of my college." You raised a brow at Seonghwa and Yeosang. "We were just having a cool walk and unconsciously ended here." Replied Seonghwa, the most natural possible. "The campus is 30 minutes away from KQ Quarter. And 30 minutes with a car." "We had a pretty long walk, okay?" Replied Yeosang, nervously and almost aggressively. "Okay okay... relax dude." You rolled your eyes. "You should come with us a bit." Started Seonghwa. "There's a park next to the campus. Let's talk there few minutes." Added Yeosang. "You guys... are acting really strangely." You claimed. Without asking your authorization, they each picked your arm and brought you to the park. You could fight or ask them to leave you alone, they wouldn't. Seonghwa almost needed oo ask people to not all the police. "What the heck guys? I really need to study and-" You stopped right when you saw your boyfriend sitting peacefully in front of you. A big blanket and a bunch of food were cautiously set on the grass. "Hi babe." Smiled Jongho. "What is this?" You asked. "You prepared all of this?" "Yeah." He scratched his head. "I hope you like it." "And we helped." Whispered Yeosang. "Are you doing this because you said your coach's name when we were making out." "You what?" Almost chocked Yeosang. "Eeew, this is disgusting!" Added Seonghwa. "It was an accident!" He rolled his eyes. "An accident." You crossed your arms on your chest. "I'm really sorry baby. I swear it was only because I've worked with her few hours ago." Explained Jongho. "Anyway, it's not like she's sexy. She's 60 years old and so strict and rude." Said Seonghwa. "She is sexy." Said Yeosang. All of you stared at him. "I'm joking. Relax." He sighed. "Y'all ready need to chill sometimes..." "So do you want to spend an afternoon with me?" Asked the maknae. "Of course." You accepted happily. "Cool! Then sit here." He pointed at the comfy place settled between pillows. "Thank you, Mark." "Mark?" "I'm kidding!" You giggled. "1 point for me now." "Unbelievable." Smiled Jongho.

#ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez suggestive #ateez imagines #ateez writings #ateez #ateez kpop #ateez cute

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pedros-mustache · 3 years

Text

convenience

summary: he was within arm’s reach. that’s all.

warnings: suggestions of harassment, alcohol consumption, language, innuendo

a/n: no thoughts, frankie morales and his broad shoulders only. poorly edited so forgive any mistakes you find. i’ll go back and fix soon.

you rarely come to the bar alone. tonight is an anomaly.

grabbing drinks after a long work week is more enjoyable with friends by your side, and you frequent this particular watering hole what feels like every friday but can’t be more than twice a month. life is busy for you and what friends remain from your college days. babies and partners and jobs—it keeps everyone running to and fro like chickens with their heads cut off. (for you, of course, it’s just the job that’s got you strung out. no husband, no babies. that shouldn’t matter, but sometimes it does.) still, despite hectic schedules, there’s a standing date a few times a month: friday, eight o’clock, the booth with the cracked-plastic seat coverings in the far right corner.

you like the noisy atmosphere of this place, and it’s easy to lose a few hours while gossiping over cheap margaritas, a whitney houston song thumping over the tinny loudspeakers. the air smells like cigarette smoke—that’s your only qualm—but the drinks are cheap, the food is passable, and it’s a chance to let loose and really enjoy yourself after a five days of business boredom.

of course, that’s what “the hot bird” is like most of the time. today is different. today is tuesday, it’s six-thirty, and you really shouldn’t be here alone.

you twirl the thin plastic straw around your drink and risk a glance over your shoulder. there’s a guy in your regular booth—red-faced with alcohol, tie loosened, dress shirt two sizes too big. you know he’s staring at you because you can feel his eyes on your back, your hips, your ass; he’s anything but discreet. his stare hurts like a healing sunburn: itchy, uncomfortable, hard to ignore. even from across the bar, his focus is unyielding, and you doubt he’s one to be easily dissuaded, not with the rabble-rousing friends at his booth, jostling drinks and shoulders alike. you imagine he’s biding his time, waiting for you to feel comfortable so he can strike. which is exactly what you need after being passed up for promotion (again): a drunk asshole bent on making your shitty day worse just for the hell of it.

the bartender—josh—says your name and sets a cocktail down on the counter in front of you. “here,” he says. he jerks his chin forward, indicating the back of the room. “it’s from the guy in the back.”

“oh god.” you resist the urge to look over your shoulder again. the muscles in your neck twitch, scream at you to turn and appraise the self-satisfied smirk on this guy’s face, but you hold still. you are nothing if not resolute in your determination to mind your on business, wallow in self pity, and get home without much of a fuss. “what the fuck is this thing?”

josh cringes. “it’s a b-52, our least popular drink.”

“it looks like spilled motor oil and congealed grease had a baby.”

to your right, in the barstool two over from yours, there’s a snort of amusement. your eyes snap to the side, but don’t register the other patron before josh is tapping your wrist. you hold your breath, stomach clenching at the conciliatory look on his face.

“don’t look now. i think he’s coming over.”

“of course he is,” you mutter, dropping your forehead to your palm. fuck, you really do not want to cry right now, but tears prick the corners of your eyes anyway. traitorous bastards. it’s been a long day, and you aren’t sure you have the mental fortitude to tactfully tell some guy to piss off without causing a scene or bursting into a blubbering mess.

“i can tell him—”

a smooth, unflustered voice cuts josh off mid-sentence. “no, let me.”

a half-filled pint of beer and a plastic basket of fries slide across the counter, and then a man, shoulders broad and trucker cap pulled low, drops to the stool beside you. you gape at him, jaw hanging. the guy from two stools over—eavesdropper.

“unless,” he continues. “you want to tell him to fuck off yourself. i’m sure you can—you look like a capable woman—but i know men and sometimes...” he trails off, but you catch his drift well enough. you know men too, and the men who frequent this bar are often of the seedier variety.

except maybe not this guy... he seems nice enough, willing to lend a hand, and after the day you’ve had, you’ll take any help you can get. plus he’s easy on the eye, and it’s been awhile since anyone with such a handsome face paid you any mind.

you twist slightly in your stool, turning your body to face him. you open your mouth to offer your name, but he beats you to it, sliding his hand over the low, curved back of your stool. his presence—so masculine yet so gentle—crowds you, and you fight the urge to suck in a sharp breath. mouth hovering over your ear, he lowers his voice, and his opposite hand, long fingers splayed outwards, settles on the counter. you’re boxed in, an arm on either side of your body, but, strangely, it feels... good, safe even.

“i’m frankie,” he says. “just follow my lead, and we’ll both be out of your hair in no time.”

you turn your face to meet frankie’s eyes. he’s so near you can feel his breath on your cheeks, could kiss his plush lips if you dared. his smile, small but encouraging, eases the clench in your stomach. your gaze drifts from his warm, brown eyes to the thumb-sized spot on his chin absent the fine layer of scruff otherwise covering his jaw. god, he’s handsome.

“uh—excuse me? i couldn’t help but notice you ignored the drink i sent over.” the man from the back of the room leans against the counter, his gaze tight on your face, elbows poised casually on the bar. his voice belies none of the uncertainty he should probably feel when confronted with your obvious disinterest and frankie’s breadth. “picked my favorite for a sweet thing like you.”

gritting your teeth, you turn your head. “thanks, but i don’t think—” your resolve wavers when the man’s fat lips spread into a grin. shit, he likes this doesn’t he—how uncomfortable you are? he reminds you of richard, the guy who got the promotion you deserve: smarmy and entirely too good at weaseling. your stomach sours.

“you can’t turn me down until you at least take a sip of the thing.” reaching over his chest, the man picks up the cocktail. the three distinct layers jostle in the small shot glass.

perhaps he sees the fine sheen of tears that rush to your eyes or perhaps it’s just to make a point, but frankie’s hand drops to your thigh. the warmth of his palm filters through the mesh of your tights. without thinking, you twine your fingers through his and squeeze.

“she said no, man.”

for the first time, your would-be-suitor’s stare slides to focus on frankie. he arches a thin eyebrow. there’s no mistaking the way his chest inflates as frankie straightens his spine. “yeah? and who are you?”

frankie speaks without hesitation. “her boyfriend.”

the man huffs, incredulous. “well, you didn’t claim her before now so i’m just taking my shot. free pick, ya know? first come first serve.”

frankie slides from the stool to standing. he’s near the same height as the other man, but there’s something about the clench in his jaw and the way his fingers tighten around yours and the way he moves to grip your shoulder than has you leaning into him despite the anger rolling off him in sharp waves. your shoulder pushes against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, and you hold your breath.

“say that again and i’ll crack your skull open on the counter.”

the man blinks, stunned, then laughs. it’s a harsh, nervous bark. his eyes flit to the back of the room then return to frankie. “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. what are you? some macho man?”

“no—retired special forces. i can and i will make your life a living hell if you don’t crawl back into the hole you came from. leave my lady alone.”

“shit.” the man shakes his head before tossing the rejected cocktail down his throat with a cringe. “ain’t fucking worth it anyway.” he slams the glass down on the counter and, heeding frankie’s advice, returns to sulk in the back booth, tail tucked between his legs.

frankie waits until the asshole is sat snug in his booth before returning to his stool. he pops a now-cold fry in his mouth then tags a long swig of his beer. you watch him and decide you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in your entire life.

“thank you,” you breathe. “i—fuck, i didn’t realize you’d be so... intimidating.”

frankie shrugs, eats another fry. he avoids your eye. “hate to see you treated like that. least i can do.”

you hum in approval, tracing the curve of his nose with your gaze. “i got passed up for a promotion today,” you offer. “put me in a real tailspin. i don’t normally go out in the middle of the week.”

fry dangling between his pointer finger and thumb, frankie finally returns his eyes to yours. “i’m sorry to hear that. if it makes you feel any better, i got stood up. i don’t normally go out in the middle of the week either.”

“guess we’re just a couple of losers then.” when frankie’s eyebrow lifts, you visibly cringe. you grab his forearm and squeeze your eyes shut. “no, wait—that’s not what i meant. i meant that... in the grand scheme of things, we aren’t... i mean...” squinting, you risk a peek at him. “shit, i’m sorry.”

after a moment, frankie smiles—and your heart leaps to your throat. he motions to josh at the other end of the bar. “what drink do you like?” he asks. “we can make it a real date, if you want? you know, to keep up appearances.”

“a real date?”

he nods. “yeah. i’m not big on fate and shit like that, but... well, maybe i’m big on fate tonight.” his eyes roam your face, and you wonder if he’s drinking you in, memorizing your features. unlike before, his stare is kind, appreciative, reverent. your cheeks heat under his gaze, but you don’t look away.

the corner of your mouth pulls into a grin. “okay.” you smile at josh when he appears. “i like mojitos.”

“really?” at your nod, frankie’s smile widens. “me too.”

you reach for a fry in his basket. “must be fate then,” you say with a shrug.

“yeah.” his hand falls to your thigh again, squeezing the flesh around your knee. you look from his hand to his face, and anything you once thought shitty about the day turns rosy with possibility. “must be fate.”

taglist:

@ezramando @frannyzooey @spvce-cowboy @writings-of-a-hufflepuff @sofsoftheloaf @salome-c @aphr0d1te5 @anu-simps @softermina @spideysimpossiblegirl @mummifymecaptain @sleep-tight1 @thewayofthemandalorian @greeneyedblondie44 @darthpapi @salome-c @just-another-fangirl-22 @stevie75

if your handle is crossed out, tumblr would not let me tag your blog.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pm writes

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

This Side of Normal Chapter Three

AO3

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is tired. She’s tired of emotional terrorists and liars and classes with a teacher who cares more about keeping the peace than teaching. She’s also just plain tired. Taking a long swig of coffee, Marinette jumps slightly as someone flounces down next to her. Wearily glancing over, she frowns at the look on her best friend’s face. Her mind runs a million miles a minute as she searches for the reason for the look on his face. The conversation on the roof with Jason flashes in her mind and she frowns, realizing why he looks so sad.

“Adrien-” She starts, but he shakes his head.

“I know, Mari. I know he’s our best suspect but...it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He says, slouching so that he can lay his head on her shoulder. Marinette sighs in response

“You’re gonna get in trouble sitting back here, kitty.” She mumbles, trying not to laugh at the absolutely adorable pout on his face that forms once she’s done talking.

“It’s worth it. I hate sitting by Lila.” He grumbles, the sad look on his face breaking Marinette’s heart.

“I-Well, maybe Mme. Bustier won’t notice.” She offers with a small smile. The smile falls almost immediately as a loud gasp rings throughout the room.

“Mme. Bustier, isn’t Adrien’s seat in the front row? Has the seating chart changed again?” Lila asks, her voice wobbly with tears. “Do I- do I have to sit by myself?” She adds. Marinette groans and drops her head onto the desk.

“Adrien? Why don’t you come back to your seat. We’re going to start class soon.” Mme. Bustier calls out.

“Sorry, guess I spoke too soon.” Marinette mumbles from her spot against the table. Adrien groans, but drags his bag down to the front row, furrowing his eyebrows as Lila immediately attaches herself to his arm. Marinette rolls her eyes, trying her hardest to pay attention to the lecture when all she wants to do is sleep. Between Ladybug duties, commissions, and homework, Marinette was lucky to get more than a couple hours of sleep each night. Add in the fact that once she could go to sleep her brain wouldn’t shut off, and Marinette was ready to petition her parents for an IV drip for her coffee. Having been completely zoned out for the entire class, Marinette jumps when the telltale sound of an akuma alarm suddenly blares throughout the room. Pulling out her phone, Marinette curses under her breath. Another element based akuma. Quickly grabbing her bag, Marinette follows the rest of the class towards the akuma shelter, silently slipping away and into the bathroom. She wastes no time in transforming, instead swinging herself out the window and to the fight.

----

Glancing down at his computer, Jason frowns. Gabriel Agreste has a kid. A kid Damian’s age, who lives in Paris. If Gabriel Agreste really was Hawkmoth, he was doing it knowing that his kid could get caught in the crossfire. Damn shitty parents. Letting out a shaky breath, Jason tries to think about things that calm him. Breathe. Can’t get pissed off here. Can’t make it harder on those kids than it already is. Deciding enough is enough when it comes to research (especially since he didn’t give Replacement specifics, just told him to look into anything sketchy with Agreste), Jason walks over and glances out the hotel window. A sudden alarm blaring through the hotel makes him sigh in frustration. It was the same alarm from last time, when he watched Paris flood and hundreds of bodies float in the streets. Climbing out onto the fire escape, Jason hurries up to the roof, scanning the horizon in hopes of seeing the akuma.

“Shit.” He says, eyes widening at the sight of flames twenty feet high. Regretting letting Bruce convince him to leave the helmet in Gotham, Jason has no choice but to watch the akuma fight from afar. Even if the two heroes hadn’t recognized him, Jason was in Paris on “official” W.E. business. Being recognized as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son while fighting a supervillain? Probably not the best idea. He’d do more damage than help, and at least by staying away from the fight, he could help the kids later. And maybe track down the son of a bitch who decided focusing the majority of his attacks on a school was a good idea.

----

Jason grit his teeth as the lights flashed and ladybugs flew around, fixing up the city. This battle took almost three hours, and the smell of burning flesh was lingering, despite all of the corpses being reanimated. Huffing, Jason climbs back off the roof, only thinking one thing. There was no way in hell he was leaving Paris until Hawkmoth was out of commission.

----

Landing softly on the rooftop, Marinette glances over at the strange man. Jason. The man who, for some reason, was willing to train them late at night on top of a roof, just so they could fight out of the suits. Not that he understood everything that the suits could do, but that was for the best. Even though his intentions seemed genuine, Marinette had learned not to trust easily anymore. Ever since Lila came, Marinette was wearier, and more likely to ask questions before accepting someone.

“Here’s your mask, if you wanna go ahead and change and start doing some basic stretches.” Jason instructs, getting right down to business as he passes the black domino mask to her. Marinette nods and flits behind the chimney.

“Spots off.” She says quietly, grinning at Tikki.

“Is this really a good idea?” Tikki asks, her face scrunched up with worry. Marinette sighs at her friend.

“He’s gonna help us find Hawkmoth. And he has a point. What happens if I can’t transform but someone still needs my help? I don’t want to be helpless, Tikki.” Marinette says.

“Just be careful, you don’t have the suit to stop you from being too injured.” Tikki warns before flying to the top of the chimney. Marinette hesitates a second before sliding the domino mask on, blinking to get used to the eye cover. It was...weird, having a mask on that wasn’t magic. With the mask that came with her suit, Marinette couldn’t feel it. It was just there, part of her. The domino mask, though, was solid. She could feel it resting on her face. Taking a breath to steady herself, Marinette walked out from behind the chimney.

“Chat Noir’s changing over there.” Jason says when he notices her, nodding towards an air duct on the opposite side of the roof.

“Thank you, for offering to help us.” Marinette says, Jason nods, a tense smile on his face.

“No problem.” He says.

“Did you happen to look into Gabriel Agreste today?” She asks.

“Yeah, what kind of asshole decides to be an emotional terrorist in a city where his kid lives?” Jason asks, a dark look crossing his face. Marinette flinches, looking at Jason nervously. If he had the means to train them, she really didn’t want to deal with him as an akuma.

“Gabriel Agreste, apparently.” Adrien says, finally joining the two, his arms crossed. Marinette frowns at him. It was much harder to read his face with his eyes hidden.

“So did you guys want me to look more into Agreste?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks between the two. Marinette glances at Adrien, letting out a small breath when she sees his small nod.

“Yeah. Even if it’s not Gabriel, we need to know for sure.” She says. Jason nods.

“Alright. That gives me something to do tomorrow. Now, stretch and warm up. I don’t wanna have to drag your asses off this roof ‘cause you pulled something trying to jump right into things.” Jason says, a teasing grin on his face. Marinette grins back, finally feeling lighter. Maybe training would be a good thing.

----

Training was hell. Okay, maybe not hell, but it was not easy. Gasping for air, Marinette dramatically collapses on the roof.

“Aw come on Pixie, you can do better than that.” Jason teases, still standing in a sparring stance.

“Jay, I swear. We’ve been training for over a week. I’m exhausted. And you’ve already kicked my ass twice. I’m giving up.” She says, throwing her arm over her face to block out the lights from the surrounding street lamps.

“Come on Bug, don’t give up!” Adrien cheers from the side, a smirk on his face. Marinette sits up and narrows her eyes at him, despite knowing the mask wouldn’t let him see her eyes. And the level of done that was visible there.

“Why don’t you try again?” She asks in a taunting tone. Adrien snorts.

“You and I both know that I can’t beat Jason.” He says, shaking his head in amusement.

“Not with that attitude. Come on kid, let’s go.” Jason says, turning to face Adrien instead of Marinette. An idea flashes into Marinette’s head and she smirks, lunging forward and yanking Jason down as his attention is completely on Adrien. Grabbing his wrists as he falls, Marinette manages to twist him around so that his face is against the rooftop and his arms are bent behind him.

“Okay, okay, I tap out.” Jason chuckles, accepting Marinette’s hand when she jumps up and reaches out to help him up.

“I won.” She says with a wide grin.

“You totally cheated.” Jason replies with a snort.

“Nah, Kitty and I just worked together to outsmart you.” Mari says.

“Don’t drag me into this, I had no idea what was happening ‘til Jay was on the ground.” Adrien says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Traitor.” Marinette huffs, sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

“Hey, you guys are gonna have to go home soon.” Jason says, glancing down at his watch. Marinette frowns.

“What about the Plan?” She asks. “I thought we were gonna work on that tonight so that we have an actual plan to stop Hawkmoth instead of just letting him run around and terrorize people nonstop.”

“Pixie, it’s late. I promise we’ll start with planning tomorrow. But you guys need to go get some sleep. Chat told me you’re already living off of coffee alone. That’s not healthy.” Jason says. Marinette rolls her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Coffee is my life fuel and I will not apologize.” She says, making both Chat and Jason groan.

“You’re worse than my brother.” Jason says and Mari grins.

“I’m sure we’d get along swimmingly.” She says, and Chat shakes his head.

“Nope. I draw the line at your coffee addicted butt meeting another coffee addict. I’m not about to watch that train wreck.” He says, grabbing Mari’s hand and tugging her behind the chimney so they can transform. Saying their phrases quickly, the two dart back over to Jason.

“Same time?” Marinette asks with a bright smile. Jason nods. Marinette waves, running over to the edge of the building and swinging away, waving at Adrien as he vaults towards his house. As she lands on her balcony, Marinette can't help the wide smile that stretches across her face. Maybe they could finally end this.

#maribat #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #fanfic #ao3fic #maribat fic #platonic jasonette #platonic maribat adrienette #This Side of Normal

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 3 years

Text

Go Go Karasuno: An Old Rival (Pt 2 )

THIS FIC IS 18+

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 7,000+

A few days had passed since the practice match. You hated to admit it, but you thought about Keishin often.

He looked good.

Really REALLY good.

Like better than high school good. He always looked nice but it was overshadowed by his complete desire to be an utter ass.

You sighed as you finished up a few emails to send off before you took your grandma to the hospital to visit your grandfather.

He was set to be discharged in a few days and then you would start the process of moving them to the elderly community. You had taken your grandmother to visit him daily as she would often have make him meals. He hated the hospital food. He said the flavor was lacking.

You had to laugh. The man had only ever eaten your grandmother's cooking since they married at a young age. He often complained or refused to eat any other food because it was never was good as his wife’s cooking.

You had to agree. Your grandma was an amazing cook.

You arrive at the hospital with your grandma in toe. She says her hellos to the staff as they all reciprocate the greetings. Your grandma was a complete sweetheart. She was loved and adored by everyone. She always helped when and where she could, volunteering wherever she was needed. You're actually surprised your grandfather managed to charm his way in to her life.

Your grandfather was a rowdy old man. Literally the opposite of your grandmother. He could be bitter and always liked a good argument. He was never outright mean to people, just very outspoken and upfront. He was a lot to handle.

You exit the elevator carrying the box of food your grandma had prepared. She told you she was preparing a meal for your grandfather's roommate as well. She said the man was just as insatiable as your grandfather. You imagined they were quite the duo.

As you round the corner you start the head arguing. You eyes widen as you realize it's coming from your grandfather's room.

Your grandma just smiles as she shakes her head knocking lightly at the door.

"Yeah yeah" a voice shouts.

You both enter as you begin to observe the sight before you eyes.

Your grandfather and his roommate are watching volleyball on the small TV in their hospital room. Shouting at the apparent bad plays.

"Anyone could have hit that set with their eyes closed" your grandfather shouted "what is that spiker doing?"

"He's just a weakling like all the others" the other man shouted "that wouldn't be happening under my coaching."

You roll your eyes and smile. Man these two were made for each other.

Your grandma slowly starts to unpack and plate the food she made for both the men. They continue to watch the game as your grandma hands them the food.

"Dont worry dear I packed enough for everyone" she smiled as you observed all the food. The box was heavy that you carried in but you didn't think there was an entire week's worth of food there.

"By everyone did you mean the entire hospital gran" you giggle as she laughs.

"Oh Y/N" your grandfather says as he looks up from his meal for a second "this is my roommate. You might know his grandson. I think he went to school with him."

The other man grumbled "I apologize if you do know him, the weakling."

You smile as you chuckle "Well sir its nice to meet you, I'm Y/N"

The older man turns to you smiling "oh I know who you are sweetheart, I'm Ikkei Ukai"

WHAT DID HE SAY?

You were about to speak when a knock sounded.

"Yeah yeah, what is this grand central in Tokyo?" your grandfather huffed as the door opened.

"Just came to check on my fav-" Keishin spoke as he entered, shutting the door and turning around.

His eyes were met with yours. He gulped as the two older men and older lady looked at you both.

"Y/N, I didn't know you would be here" Keishin says as he lifts his head to the back of his head.

"I told you last week my roommate had a granddaughter your age" Ikkei spoke sharped tongue.

"Well you didn't mention here name!" Keishin glared at his grandfather.

“You didn’t ask” Ikkei huffed as he turned his attention back to the game as Keishin placed his hand over his face.

You giggle at the circumstances.

This all had to be a joke right? No way this was coincidence!

"Ah Keishin it's so good to see you again" your grandmother says breaking the awkward silence "here have a plate"

"Oh you as well ma'am" he said bowing "thank you ma'am but I'll have to pass I’m just stopping by quick"

"Sit down you idiot the women made great food" your grandfather shouts at Keishin as you chuckle.

Your grandmother makes him a plate as he settles in by you at the spare table in the corner. Your grandmother sits beside your grandfather as he kisses her forehead. You smile as you watch them, all while Keishin watches you.

"Your grandfather and mine are one in the same" he says trying to break the silence.

"Ha ha yeah you can say that again" you say smiling as you eat.

"I honestly didn't know your grandfather was his roommate" he says.

"Well you probably wouldn't. They are my mothers parents so we don't share the same last name" you say looking down at your plate.

"You know, it was really great to see you play again Y/N" Keishin smiles at you.

You look up smiling back "Thank you. It was a lot of fun. You really have some great kids."

"Kageyama and Hinata couldn't stop talking about your sets. Kageyama said they were almost perfect" he said taking another bite

"Well I wouldn't say perfect. They can always use improvement" you say pushing your food around the plate.

"Give yourself more credit Y/N. You really are a great setter. I always thought so" Keishin says as he stares at you.

You laugh ironically "is that why you were always such an ass to me then?"

Keishin sighs "yeah I was an ass but it wasn't because you weren't good. I was stupid high school kid"

You sighed as you look to his smiling "I guess we've both changed a lot"

Keishin smiled softly at you as you take both plates and disguarded them in the bin.

"I'm going to step outside for a minute" you speak, kissing your grandma on the forehead.

"I'll come with you" Kishin says as you begin to walk outside

The silence is awkward. Neither of you know what to say to each other. It's like your years of high school rivalry has been reduced to this weird state of unknown.

"Look Y/N" keishin starts.

"Keishin" you interject "we both changed. It's ok. I'm not mad at you anymore."

That wasn't completely factual nor completely a lie.

You didn't hate Keishin. In fact, thinking about it, you never really did. You admired the man but he annoyed you to no end. He was always better than you and you were jealous.

Keishin threw his cigarette as he walked towards you "Y/N I want to apologize."

You look at him with narrowed eyes "for what?"

"Well one for being a complete jerk back in high school" he proceeds.

"Jerk is an understatement but continue" you say smiling.

He laughs awkwardly "Listen Y/N can I at least make it up to you?"

You fold your arms "ok and how Keishin? It's not like we can go back in time and you can not mess up my serves" you spit as he looks towards the ground.

"Y/N please" Keishin says "my grandfather was right, I was a weakling back then. I was jealous of you. You had such talent and well, I enjoyed getting a rile from you. I know it was immature but it was the only way you'd talk to me."

“Wait what” you think as you try to process what he was saying

"I always admired you Y/N. You were a great captain and a fantastic setter. You worked so well all the players on your team. I honestly was a bit jealous" he continues as you state at him confused.

Keishin was jealous? Of you?

You say the only thing you can properly formulate "Well Keishin you sure had a hell of a way of showing it! You pissed me off, annoyed me to no end and now you tell me you were jealous?"

Keishin stares at your outburst.

"Keishin I apologize for yelling but it just seems unreal to me. I spent all of high school trying be as good as you and now your telling me you looked up to me? It just seems unreal" you say as you sit on the bench.

"Y/N" Keishin sits down in the other side of the bench "I know I was a complete jerk. I honestly didn't know it bothered you so much. I was a punk ass kid who was just trying to be someone. But I now realize I hurt someone who really meant a lot of me."

You look up from your hands to see Keishin with a soft smile on his face.

"Well this is awkward" you say as you stand up. You were never great with upfront feelings and awkward silences.

"Y/N please" Keishin says as you start to walk back to the room "Please just let me make it up to you. Let's have dinner. I promise. Just hear me out"

You sigh knowing the conversation was unavoidable. It wasn't that you didn't want to have dinner with Keishin, it's just that you still reeled from your past.

Maybe you were being petty and it seemed like Keishin had changed but were you really ready to admit that? Were you really ready to move on from a grudge you held for almost 10 years?

"Where" you sigh in defeat.

"Huh?" Keishin looks to you with question.

"Where and when" you look back at him with a less than eager face.

"How about Friday night? My families store?" Keishin shouts a little too enthusiastic.

You chuckle at his response "ok but I swear of you start shit I'm going to pelt a volleyball right at your forehead"

He laughs "there's the Y/N I remember"

You push him playfully as you both walk back into the hospital heading to your grandfather's room.

You enter the floor as you both hear loud shouting. You look at each other and take off running towards your grandfather's room. You bust open the door with Keishin on your heals as you see your grandfather on the floor and your grandmother holding her mouth.

"I'm fine I'm fine just got a bit worked up" he says.

Keishin moves to help your grandfather as you console your grandmother.

"Grandpa really? Getting worked up over volleyball?" You spit at him.

He glares at you "you're one to talk Y/N!"

Keishin’s eyes widen as you glare holes on your grandfather's head. He chuckles at your response.

"Oh Y/N it's about time you forgive the boy, it's been almost 10 years" your grandfather says

"Dont forgive him so easily Y/N" Ikkei interjects "make him work for it"

Keishin glares at his grandfather as he chuckles with your grandfather and they continue watching the game.

You and Keishin both sigh as you smile softly towards one another.

You're night out with Keishin approaches faster than you hoped. Honestly you were really indifferent about the whole situation. You had to admit, Keishin had probably changed since high school. I mean the Keishin you knew would never coach a high school volleyball team.

Right?

#keishin #ukai keishin #ukai #keishin x y/n #justiceforthehaikyuucoachs #haikyuu #haikyuucoaches #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#karasuno

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so-writing · 3 years

Text

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (5)

all parts in the master list

Note: ‘Someday We’ll Know’ by New Radicals is the song for this part so I recommend listening it while you read, and also regularly because it is a beautiful song - also editing is trash once again because I just write and post like a maniac would

The pounding headache you’d woken up with hours ago had now reduced itself to a dull ache behind your eyebrows. It was enough to distract you from the arm wrapped around your waist but not enough to ignore the hard member pressed against the small of your back.

You knew who was laying behind you and while you knew it was a perfectly natural thing, you felt shock due to the fact the Matthew Tkachuk was sporting wood while cuddled up with your body.

His breathing was irregular and his heart was beating fast. You could tell because his face was crushed into your neck and his chest was pressed against your back.

He was awake.

You had to unwrap yourself from his body without giving him any indication that you knew about his ‘situation.’

“Fuck, I really need to pee!”

She hurried out of the bed and booked it to the bathroom at such a breakneck speed that Matthew was sure he’d gotten away with it.

He rolled onto his stomach and willed his boner away. This was not the time or place for anything sexual.

Matthew heard the sound of the shower turn on, sighing in relief that she was beginning her day and was probably completely unaware of what had just taken place.

He sighed heavily and, remembering that there was no game and an evening practice, went back to sleep.

“Nope,” you muttered to yourself as the hot water ran down your chest, “this is not a thing I should be feeling. Absolutely fucking not.”

You couldn’t get the feeling of Matthew’s body pressed against yours out of your head and it was annoying because you knew better.

The civility between the two of you was just blossoming and the last thing you needed was to think about his naked body while the two of you tiptoed around each other masquerading as friends for everyone else’s sake.

No, it wasn’t a thing. You wouldn’t let it be. You weren’t attracted to him, there was no way you could be. Up until a day or two ago, he wasn’t even nice to you. You weren’t into assholes, and there was no doubt in your mind that Matthew was an asshole.

While you were on it, what the fuck was with the shit he’d said last night? He wanted to cuddle with you, when twenty-four hours prior he had you sleeping alone on the floor?

Sure, he’d been drunk but still, it didn’t make any fucking sense. As far as you knew, you were not Matthew’s type and didn’t think even drunk him would have any interest in touching you.

You chalked it up to just another reason you could say he was an asshole decided to read anything into it.

The once hot water was now barely room temperature by the time you’d worked through your thoughts and you almost finished your shower until another thing, not from the night before, came to mind.

‘You ought to get dressed though, you’ve got goosebumps like all over your body.’

‘All over your body.’

Why was he looking so closely in the first place?

Matthew knocked on the bathroom door to make sure he was completely alone, though hours had gone by and there was no way she was still in the shower.

The lack of response from the other side of the door made had him smiling as he entered to brush his teeth and take his own shower.

He noted the few products that weren’t his sitting on the shower shelf. Picking up one of the bottles and rolling it in his hand he wondered out loud, “Lord of Misrule? What the fuck is Lush?”

Matthew was a 3-in-1 type of guy. Fancy bath products didn’t do it for him, what was the point? That didn’t stop him from using it anyway.

Thinking about the previous night, the earliest thing he could clearly recall was taking his first round of shots. Everything else was a mess of fragmented memories but he knew that he wouldn’t have initiated such closeness between the two of them. He barely liked her, hell, he barely even knew her (not like that had stopped him before) but he wouldn’t mess around with somebody on staff, even he had his limits.

He didn’t think she liked him either but he knew he didn’t pull her into him, so that meant she was the one that started it.

“Maybe she’s been cold to me because she’s into me and she can’t do anything about it,” he mused and squirted more shower gel into his hand, “that’s got to be it.”

You went about your day as normally as you could, opting not to watch practice because you weren’t ready to see Matthew after this morning’s debacle.

It wasn’t until about 10 in the evening that you decided it was time to leave the arena and head back to the hotel. You’d been working slow, forcing the time to pass but you were tired and knew you’d have to face him eventually.

Only tonight and tomorrow were left until the Flames would be heading back home and you could resume sleeping alone in the comfort of your own home.

You hoped Matthew would be sleeping when you got back, but much to your disappointment, he was sitting up in bed with his face in his phone and AirPods in his ears.

“Where have you been? It’s really late.”

“Had work to do,” you mumbled as you grabbed your pajamas and headed into the bathroom to change.

You changed, brushed your teeth and washed your face at a glacial pace. Twenty-five minutes had to have passed when you exited the bathroom and sat down on your side of the bed.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about and I think it might be a kind of touchy subject, but we should address it.”

Oh god, what was he talking about?

“Uh, ok, what’s up?”

“Look, I know it’s probably hard for you to be around me, feeling the way you do and all, but it doesn’t have to be weird.”

Feeling the way you feel? What the fuck did that mean?

“What are you talking about?”

“I figured out why last night happened and why you’ve been so cold to me all this time. You like me.”

The fuck?!

The little smirk resting on his lips was begging to be slapped off. You had never given him any indication that you were interested in him at all. Until this morning, you thought nothing positive about Matthew Tkachuk and those few positive thoughts were strictly physical. Yeah, he was definitely an asshole.

“I, the opposite of like you, Matthew. When have I ever given you the green light that I might be interested? We don’t even fucking look at each other most of the time. This roadie is the most we’ve ever even talked to each other. What makes you think I would want someone like you?”

“You clearly cuddled with me all night, that’s what makes me think you would ‘want someone like me!’ I would never be the one to pull the trigger when it came to getting close to someone like you.”

“You don’t remember last night, do you?”

“Most of it is a blur, yes, but that-“

“You came in hammered drunk and told me you wanted to hold me and then we went to sleep,” you cut him off. “Don’t think I didn’t feel your fucking dick shoved into my back this morning. You started this, Matthew. I don’t feel any ounce of attraction, physically or emotionally, to you at all.”

It wasn’t entirely the truth but you were pissed. How fucking arrogant was he that he thought you had feelings for him when he was the one making the first move by coming back for a drunk cuddle?

His face was beat red, “that can’t be true, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, you did and I stupidly let you for whatever fucking reason. I should’ve forced you to go to sleep and spent another night on the floor.”

He didn’t respond, instead focusing all his attention on the corner of the blanket he was kneading between his fingers.

“This is hopeless, Matthew. You and I are just two people who will never get along. Our personalities don’t mesh at all and that’s fine. We need to go to sleep though, two games two days in a row is going to be a bitch.”

Flicking off the light, neither of you bothered to say goodnight as you both stayed on your respective edges of the bed, putting as much space between you as possible.

---

Your respective alarms went off within fifteen minutes of each other, and like robots, you both got prepared for the day ahead without a word to one another. You both left for team breakfast at the same time, you heading in the direction of the staff and Matthew going off to join the players.

“So how’s it going with Tkachuk?”

“I mean, it could obviously be better. He’s making it pretty fucking hard for me to continue liking this job.”

“I have tea,” one of the newer assistants spoke up, “if you’re interested.”

“About me?”

“Yep, about you and concerning Tkachuk. Only if you’re interested though,” I smile played at her lips and you could tell she was dying to spill whatever secrets she was keeping.

“Hit me with it.”

“I was asked to go out with the group of guys the other night to make sure no one got in too much trouble, so I was there for everything that happened and while I know that he was very drunk when he shouted it across the bar,” she leaned in and the rest of you mimicked her action, “he doesn’t hate you at all. He’s actually pretty fucking interested in getting to know you in a much more intimate setting.”

“Bullshit.”

“He said it, I swear!”

“I believe he said it, but he was drunk and when he came back to the hotel room and insisted on cuddling until we fell asleep, he was drunk then too.”

“Wait, what?!”

Several people started talking at once, asking you questions and making assumptions.

“Nothing happened,” you raised your voice a little to silence them, “honestly. I’d never, especially not with him. I had also been drinking wine too so my guard was down but it was stupid and he acted even more idiotic about it the next morning.”

You recounted what you could remember of the other night and yesterday morning when he claimed you were the one to make the first move because you ‘liked’ him. It was probably something that should’ve stayed private, but if Matthew was going to say what he did at the bar, drunk or not, and blame everything on you, you figured you’d share your side of the story.

“One more night with your best friend and then you’re home free, Chuky.”

“I absolutely cannot wait, and the next time there’s an issue with the rooms and she ends up as my bedmate, one of you will be fucking trading with me.”

“I don’t know, man,” Gio clapped him on the shoulder, “I love a good, slow burning love story and this one has been incredibly entertaining.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You’re kind of into her, I can tell.”

“I am not into her. Not even a tiny fucking bit, man. Don’t spread that shit around.”

“Why? You don’t want her to find out?”

“There’s nothing to find out. I’m not into her.”

“Ok, man, don’t get so defensive. You’re not into her.”

“Yeah, you definitely can’t stand her,” Noah Hanifin piped up, “that’s why you told the whole bar you’d fuck her into the shitty hotel mattress if she’d give you the chance!”

“Don’t fucking lie man, I didn’t say that.”

“You did, but I’ll let you pretend like it was a drunken moment and not repressed pining.”

“Shut up, all of you, if you want me to get my shit together on the ice, you should stop bringing her up.”

It was petty and every one of them knew it but they didn’t want to frazzle Matt even more than he already was, so the subject was quickly dropped.

The Flames won in a 4-0 shutout.

Game Two was a complete success and instead of the players going out on their own, a bar was rented out and everyone was in attendance.

Ignoring Matthew was pretty easy at first. He scored one of the goals so plenty of the other guys were on him but as the night went on and the booze continued to flow, he found you.

“Hey,” he slurred slightly, “sorry about this morning and last night. I was wrong to assume, you know what they say when you assume.”

You were pleasantly tipsy and not entirely bothered by his presence at the current moment, so you humored him.

“No, what do they say?”

“When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.”

“You mean when you assume, because I made no assumptions but you certainly did.”

“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry.”

There was something about the way he was looking at you at that moment, coupled with the song playing over the speakers at the bar that had you feeling some sort of way.

‘Someday we’ll know if love can move mountain.

Someday we’ll know why the sky is blue.

Someday we’ll know why I wasn’t meant for you.’

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t do this tomorrow,” you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned up on your toes to press your lips against his.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine

184 notes · View notes

scatter-the-stars · 3 years

Note

Badboy

So this became more than I anticipated.

TW: abuse (not Blaine to Kurt)

"Where are we going?" Kurt questions after only just then realizing they're not headed towards Eric's house where the party is. "I thought you said we were going to a party?"

From the driver's seat his friend Jackie lets a sneaky smile spread across her face. "We are."

"Okay. Why are we driving in the opposite direction of Eric's place?"

"I never said we were going to Eric's party."

"Jackie!"

Jackie giggles. Her long auburn hair blowing around her face from the wind.

"Jackie, where the hell are we going?" Kurt takes a look around to see if he recognizes anything. But nothing rings a bell.

"I heard about a... party."

"Where?"

"The south side of town," she replies.

"Hell no, Jackie." It suddenly makes sense why he doesn't recognize anything around him. He's in a part of town he's never been in. A part of town he's been told to stay away from.

"What?"

"We can't be here. It's dangerous."

"Says who?"

"Um... Everyone. Let's just go to Eric's party."

"No." Jackie starts to drive faster. "We're going to this party."

Kurt glares at his friend. "Why?"

Jackie says nothing while she parks her Jeep close by to the party they can hear. She pulls the keys from the engine and faces Kurt. "Aren't you tired of doing the same thing? Going to the same boring parties?" She tucks a strand of her loose hair behind her ear. "I want excitement, Kurt."

"Then go skydiving or something. Don't go to the bad side of town. And don't drag me along." Kurt unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs out of the Jeep. He starts to walk back the way they came. Pulls out his phone in hopes of finding a different friend who will be willing to come pick him up.

"Kurt! Wait!" Jackie runs to stand in front of him and stop him from leaving. "Please, don't go. I need you with me on this. I can't go in there alone."

"I don't care." He moves around her and continues walking. Is pissed his best friend would drag him into her crazy idea. Plus, if his stepdad finds out where he was he’ll be punished. "I'm going home."

Jackie grabs his wrist and stops him. "Please. Stay with me. Kurt."

Kurt takes a few deep breaths before turning to face his friend. "Jackie, this is a terrible idea. All those people are trouble."

"And Eric and his friends aren't?"

Kurt opens his mouth to say no but snaps it shut when he remembers just the week before Eric and his friends decided a car race on the highway at night would be fun. And that's only one of dozens of dangerous, crazy things they've done over the years.

"Please, Kurt," Jackie pleads. "We'll stay an hour and then go to Eric's boring party."

"His party wasn't boring a few weeks ago."

"Yes, it was." Jackie loops her arm through Kurt's. "Aren't you tired of the same boring shit we do?"

"I mean..." There is some part of him that is bored by everything like Jackie said. It's been the same thing with the same people his entire life. Maybe a step outside the norm could be a fun, exciting adventure.

"See. This will be fun."

"But you don't know those people?"

"I'm good at making new friends. This will be no different. So, will you come with me?"

Kurt thinks it over for a moment. Considers he can survive an hour crashing a party full of people he doesn't know.

"Fine." He blows out a breath. "You owe me big time, Jackie. I'm talking about Chanel or Prada big."

"Deal!" Jackie bounces up and down on her feet in excitement. "Thank you so much." She plants a kiss on his cheek.

"Let's get this over with."

Music blares from the two-story house that has seen better days. There's people standing out on the yard and porch. They go silent when they see them. There's whispers as they walk by. Every set of eyes in the house immediately go to them when they step inside. Kurt suddenly feels like he's under a bright spotlight he doesn’t want on him.

"Come on," Jackie grabs his hand, "let's get something to drink."

He follows her through the house to the kitchen. Everyone watches and scrutinizes them as they pass them by. Their judging eyes make him feel two feet tall. They make him feel like the odd one out, which he is. Because he shouldn't be here. This type of place, these kinds of people, are not his scene. And he’ll be in so much fucking trouble if Caleb finds out.

"People are looking at us."

"Ignore them," Jackie casually says, like it's no big deal that a house full of people are staring at her.

Kurt wants to do that. Even tries to. But it proves impossible when he's watched like a hawk. He clutches Jackie's hand tighter and keeps his eyes forward. Says nothing. Not even when someone purposely bumps into him and loudly says, "Watch where you're going you rich bitch."

A few snickers and laughs follow the insult. It doesn't affect him. After growing up and being teased and bullied for his sexuality, a little remark about his wealthy lifestyle won't hurt him. It’s water off his back.

In the kitchen, sticking close to Jackie as she fills two red SOLO cups with beer from the keg, Kurt prays that the next hour passes quickly.

"Drink." Jackie holds a cup out to him. "It'll loosen you up."

Kurt takes the full cup and drains nearly half of it. The alcohol slightly relaxes him in a way he needs.

That relaxing feeling, though, dissipates with Jackie's next words.

"I'll be back."

He grabs for her hand before she leaves. "What? No. Don't leave me alone here."

"I'll only be gone a few minutes. You'll be fine." Jackie flashes one of her mock innocent smiles she's perfected over the years before disappearing in the crowd of people.

Kurt's heart immediately starts to race and breathing grows heavy as he stands there alone being looked at by the people around him. No longer wanting to endure the stares, he turns around to face the cabinets. At least they won't stare at and judge him.

He brings his cup to his lips and drains the last of his beer. Mentally prays Jackie comes back soon.

It's still crazy to him that they're here. That Jackie actually convinced him to come to this party. All his life he's stayed on his side of town. Never strayed to the bad side of town as his mom would repeatedly call it. Can remember her telling him it was full of criminals and people not worth their time. People below them. He never questioned her repeated demands that he stay away from that side of town. Was never curious. Even now he's not curious. He's terrified and wants to leave. Wants to go to the safety of places and people he knows.

Cup empty, he turns to refill it and runs into a wall of muscle. Kurt opens his mouth to apologize to the person he ran into. But his mouth goes dry and tongue grows heavy as he looks at the gorgeous face of the man standing in front of him.

The guy, who is older, is devilishly handsome. Everything about him is dark. From his hair to his eyes to the clothes he wears. Even his polite looking smile hides darkness and an edge of ruthlessness behind it. Kurt can just make out the tattoos peeking out from the collar of the guy's shirt. A light stubble covers his jaw.

The guy eyes him. Arches an eyebrow in curiosity. "Who are you?"

The guy's voice is deep and warm, and sends a shudder racing along his spine. Kurt wants to hear it again. Wants to hear the guy speak his name. To growl it into his ear as he fucks him.

That thought takes him by surprise. Because he doesn’t know this guy. Can’t be having wild thoughts like that over someone he literally met ten seconds ago.

But there’s something about the thought that doesn’t feel out of place.

"I, uh... I-I'm..."

The corner of the guy's mouth curls up. "What? Can't remember your name?"

"I can remember my name." Kurt glares at the guy.

The guy’s grin grows, as if amused by Kurt’s anger toward him. "Then what is it?"

What the hell is his name again? It starts with a K. He thinks.

Shit!

Seconds tick by.

Tick.

The guy's dark hazel eyes fill with amusement.

"Did you bump that pretty head of yours and forget your name?"

"No."

The guy takes a step toward him. Kurt takes a step back. His back comes in contact with the edge of the counter.

What. The. Hell. Is. His. Name!

He feels like the biggest idiot as he stands there unable to answer a simple question. But his brain is a jumbled mess filled with static noise as he stares at the sexy guy in front of him.

The guy reaches a hand up and curls it around the back of his neck. Kurt gasps at the strong shock that runs through him at the touch. Trembles when the guy presses his thumb right at the racing pulse point in his neck.

"You'll be fun."

Kurt doesn't have time to consider what the guy means by that because Jackie calls his name right then.

The guy drops his hand, which disappoints him.

"Kurt."

He looks when Jackie runs up to him. She wears a look of concern and tightly clutches his arm, almost as if she's afraid he'll be snatched away.

"So your name is Kurt."

Kurt turns his attention back to the guy in front of him. "Y-Yeah... Kurt. That's my name."

The guy grins and Kurt feels a tingle race throughout his entire body.

"Good to know. See you later, Kurt," the guy says before turning on his heel and walking away.

Kurt watches him walk away. His gaze drops to his fantastic ass in the dark jeans he wears. He finds himself wondering what that ass looks like. What it would feel like in his hands.

Jackie tugging on his arm pulls his attention away from the guy. He sees his friend curiously eyeing him. "What?" he asks when he realizes she asked something.

"I was asking what Blaine wanted."

Kurt furrows his brows in confusion. "Who's Blaine?"

Jackie gives him a Are you serious? look. "The guy you were just talking to."

"Oh." Kurt looks at where Blaine walked away. Disappointment swirls in him at not seeing the sexy stranger. "He wanted to know my name." He looks at Jackie. "How'd you know who he was?"

"Kurt," Jackie lets out a breath, "that's Blaine Anderson."

The way she says his name implies he's supposed to know who that is. But the name rings no kind of bell for him.

"Who's Blaine Anderson?"

"Come on." Jackie grabs his hand. "We need to leave."

Kurt follows Jackie out of the kitchen. Surprised at the sudden urge he has to stay. "Why are we leaving? We've only been here a few minutes. We can stay." He wants to stay. Wants to see Blaine again.

"No." Jackie practically drags him out of the house.

As they leave, Kurt notices the people who eyed them earlier pay them no attention. A few even get out of Jackie and his way as they head for the front door.

Outside and walking to Jackie's Jeep, Kurt stops in the middle of the road after ripping his hand free of her tight hold. "What the hell, Jackie! Why'd you do that?"

Jackie turns to face him. "I was protecting you, Kurt."

"Protecting me. From what?"

"More like who."

"Who?" Kurt grows more and more confused by the second. "What are you talking about?"

"Let's get in the Jeep first."

In the Jeep, Jackie practically speeds away from the house like she committed a crime.

"What is going on, Jackie? Slow down before you crash!"

That seems to produce the opposite effect since Jackie picks up the speed. And what should have taken them thirty minutes, Kurt finds themselves outside of Eric's place less than ten minutes later.

Jackie shuts off the engine. She drops her head back against the headrest of the seat and lets out a heavy breath. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" She covers her face with her hands.

Kurt starts to grow worried something terrible happened. "Jackie, what's wrong?"

Jackie slams the palm of her hand against the steering wheel a few times after lifting her head. She curses a few times.

"You're starting to worry me," he says after she's calmed down.

"I'm sorry. It's just..." She breathes and turns in her seat to face him. "I shouldn't have taken you there. It was a stupid idea. I didn't think..."

"Think what?"

"I didn't know he was going to be there."

"Who?"

"Blaine," Jackie breathes out. "I was told he would be gone until next week."

"What does it matter if he was there? Who is he, Jackie?" Kurt wants to know everything about the sexy stranger who seemed dark and dangerous.

Jackie takes a breath. "He's dangerous, Kurt. And I'm not talking about those lame bad boys that go to our school. I'm talking about the kind of bad boy that got out of prison last year. He runs with the Dark Demons. You've heard of them, right?"

Kurt nods his head. Everyone has heard of them. They're a notorious motorcycle club. Known for violence and wealth and power. They run drugs and weapons. There's even rumors of some of the dark things they've done. Things that no amount of asking for forgiveness will grant them peace.

"Yeah, well, he's a member. One of the more fucked up ones, I've heard."

That nugget of information has Kurt thinking back to the small bomb Jackie dropped in his lap moments before. "You said he was in prison."

Jackie nods her head.

"For what?"

"What I heard, and it could be total bullshit, but apparently he beat some guy to death when he was seventeen. Who knows, though? It could be for something else."

Where that piece of information should scare him, Kurt finds himself mostly unaffected. He isn't suddenly terrified of the guy who went to prison. In fact, he finds himself curious for what the truth really is about Blaine's reason for being in prison.

"Stay away from him, Kurt," Jackie says when she catches him contemplating things. "He is nothing but bad news. Did he tell you anything?"

Kurt thinks of what Blaine told him before Jackie interrupted them. Thinks of Blaine's words You'll be fun and knows he can't tell Jackie about them. That she'll go crazy and do something even crazier.

"No." He shakes his head. "He just wanted to know my name."

"Good. Maybe he'll stay away."

"Maybe." Although he says that, Kurt finds himself hoping that isn't the case.

It should scare him that he wants to see an ex-prisoner who is apparently as twisted and fucked-up as they come. But for some reason, it doesn't.

There was something about Blaine that drew him in.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks pass and nothing happens. His life goes on like normal. He hangs out and parties with his friends. Fools around with his friend Colin that he messes around with from time to time. He goes to school and acts like everything is okay at home.

The entire time Blaine is there in the back of his thoughts. He wonders what he's doing or how he's doing. If he's alone or with someone. If he's thinking about him.

Kurt hopes Blaine thinks of him. That he pops up in Blaine's thoughts in the middle of the day.

He doesn't want to be forgotten.

"Are we still on for tomorrow?" Jackie asks one Friday after school almost two months after meeting Blaine.

"Yeah. What time are you picking me up?"

"Early. Seven in the morning."

"Okay. That sounds-" Kurt comes to stop when he steps outside and sees who's there.

Leaning back against his bike, ankles crossed and hands gripping the seat of the bike, Blaine looks as devilishly handsome as ever. In a dark shirt, jeans, boots, and Aviator shades covering his eyes, he pulls off the bad boy, biker thing extremely well.

"Shit!"

Kurt barely hears Jackie's soft exclamation when she spots Blaine. His world has been reduced to this mysterious, sexy man.

Their friends around them all murmur and ask who that is. He pays them no mind. Only cares about the man who has been his go to fantasy when getting off these past few weeks.

He knows the moment Blaine sees him. Sees the grin spread across his face. His heart gives a hard thud in his chest at the sight.

Kurt takes a step forward.

Jackie grabbing his elbow stops him and pulls his attention away from Blaine.

"What?"

"Kurt, don't. He's bad news."

"I know. I just..." He locks eyes with Blaine. "I just want to talk to him."

Like a magnet, he feels drawn to Blaine. Like he's the innocent fish being reeled in by the tempting bait as he makes his way to the man who's been at the back of his mind since he last saw him.

As he makes his way over to Blaine, he notices students, guys and girls, curiously eyeing Blaine. Some wear looks of interest. Which isn't surprising since Blaine is extremely attractive and probably pulls attention wherever he goes.

Blaine pulls off his Aviator glasses. Kurt finds his breath catch at those dark hazel eyes watching him with so much interest and desire it sends a sharp thrill through him.

He stops right in front of Blaine. "Hi."

A devilish grin spreads across Blaine's face. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you again."

Kurt's pulse races. "H-How'd you find me?"

"Easily."

Blaine pushes off his bike and stands at his full height. He takes a step closer to Kurt. Kurt feels the heat radiating off him. Feels that heat wash over him. It intensifies when Blaine grabs the back of his neck like he did that night weeks ago.

Heart racing and cock pounding, Kurt is so desperate for whatever Blaine might do next that he would let him strip him naked and fuck him right there in the parking lot for everyone to watch and see.

Blaine stares into his eyes with his dark hazel orbs. "Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?"

It takes a second for what Blaine asked to register. "W-What?"

"A bike." Blaine gestures with his free hand to his behind him. "Have you ever ridden one?"

"Oh... No."

"That's okay." Blaine lets him go and climbs onto his bike. Kurt goes weak in the knees at how sexy he looks straddling the powerful machine. He doesn't stop Blaine when he grabs his wrist and pulls him onto his bike. "Hold tight and don't let go."

Arms wound around Blaine's midsection, he holds tight like instructed. He jumps a little when Blaine starts the engine and revs it a few times.

As Blaine begins to drive away, he looks over at his group of friends who all watch him with shocked and surprised expressions. Except Jackie. Jackie wears an expression of worry and regret.

He doesn't let the look get to him. Forgets about everything he should have done, and will happen to him when he gets home, and instead focuses on how it feels to be pressed close to Blaine's backside. The power of the engine between his legs. The sensation of the cool wind whipping against his face and through his hair. Head dropped back and eyes closed, he smiles at feeling free for the first time in a very long time.

A hand on his right thigh squeezing the flesh has him pressing closer to Blaine. Even more so when Blaine drags his hand up and inside his jean-covered thigh and covers the bulge between his legs.

It's extremely fucking sexy the way Blaine teases him with one hand while guiding the bike with the other. He should probably yell at Blaine to put both hands on the handles. But he feels too good; somehow trusts Blaine. Remembers Blaine has probably been doing this for a long time.

Blaine drives until he's out of town and goes into the country. Kurt is not worried at all when he turns onto a gravel road and drives until an old farm house comes into view. The house has two levels. A large porch is on the bottom level. A hanging porch swing gently sways from the wind. The paint is chipped and grass is seriously overgrown. But Kurt sees past that and can see the appeal the place has. Sees how a family could live there.

He climbs off the bike after Blaine comes to a stop and cuts the engine. "What is this place?"

"This is my parents' old farm. It's mine now."

"Really?"

"Why the surprise?"

"You don't really scream farmer to me."

Blaine chuckles. Kurt likes the sound. "What do I scream?"

Kurt eyes Blaine up and down. "Trouble."

Blaine grins and lifts a brow. "Do you like trouble?"

"I do."

Hand taken by Blaine, Kurt follows him past the house and to the old barn that has seen better days. He takes in the old structure when they go inside. Sees old, rusted farming tools and equipment. There's a wooden ladder that leads to an upper loft area.

He doesn't question anything when he follows Blaine up the ladder to the loft area. Where he expects it to be dirty like the rest of the barn, he's surprised to find it's clean. Everything looks to have been taken away. The only things up there now are an old couch, some rugs, an end table, and a lamp.

"What is this?"

Blaine walks over and drops down onto the couch. "My safe space, I guess you can call it. I come here when I need to get away from everything and think."

Kurt goes up to the open doors and looks out at the view. "This is nice." When Blaine says nothing, he looks back and finds him eyeing him. "What?"

"Come here," Blaine softly growls while tipping his head.

The command has Kurt instantly moving his feet over to the mysterious man he can't stop himself from wanting.

Stood in front of Blaine, heart pounding, a small squeak escapes him when Blaine suddenly hooks a finger through one of his belt loops and pulls him down into his lap. He bites back a moan when he feels the hard length of Blaine pressing against his ass. Every nerve ending suddenly firing and demanding attention. His body shakes with need.

It should terrify him what he's allowing to happen. He tries to remember he barely knows this guy. But those thoughts are outnumbered by how good he feels. How right this feels. That it doesn't matter that he only met Blaine once before for less than five minutes. Because those few minutes were enough to greatly affect his world.

Those short minutes were enough to awaken something inside him that had been dormant for too long.

"Why does this feel so right?" he muses out loud while running his fingers through Blaine's dark hair.

"I don't know." Blaine strokes a thumb over one of his flushed cheeks. "But it does."

The racing of his heart, the wild fluttering of the butterflies in his stomach all calm when Blaine pulls him down and their mouths brush together. A sharp shock courses through him at the teasing touch. He immediately wants more.

With one of Blaine's hands holding his hip, he moans when Blaine crushes their mouths together. His eyes flutter close and hands clutch at Blaine's shoulders. The kiss creates sharp tingles that race through his body.

Lips part under Blaine's demanding tongue. He groans when Blaine teases their tongues together. When they push and glide against each other.

The hand on his hip moves to grab at his ass. And where he shouldn't want the touch, should shove Blaine's hand away since he barely knows him, Kurt finds himself wanting more. He wants Blaine's hands on him. Wants Blaine to touch every inch of him.

He wants to feel a soft touch where there's only been roughness.

Blaine slips a hand under his shirt and splays it over the heated skin of his lower back. The area grows warmer under Blaine's touch.

The kiss intensifies. Blaine deepens it. A shudder wracking his body when Blaine nips his lower lip and sucks on it before pulling away.

Kurt breathes heavy as he comes down from the high of the best kiss he’s ever had.

"Is it true?" The question spills from his mouth unprompted a few moments later. He never meant to ask it aloud. Would have sufficed continuing to go on in the dark. But the question is out there now, and there's no taking it back.

"Is what true?"

"Were you really in prison?"

Blaine takes a breath. "Yes. Do you know why?"

"I've been told rumors."

"What rumors?"

"Jackie said-"

"Jackie?"

"My friend. You saw her that night at the party."

Blaine seems to mentally go back to that night to recall his friend. "What did this Jackie say?"

"She said you killed someone." Kurt looks away for a few heartbeats before turning his attention back to Blaine. "Is it true?"

"Will you think differently of me if it is?"

"I... I don't know."

A few minutes of loud silence follows. Finally, Blaine softly says, "I didn't kill anyone."

Kurt lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. "What did you do?"

"It doesn't matter. I served my time. And I don't regret what I did."

Kurt presses closer to Blaine. No kind of fear surfaces at Blaine's confession. His feelings don’t change. He still wants this man. Is deeply affected by him in a way that has caught him by surprise.

"Let's go swimming."

Down by the small lake, Kurt watches Blaine as he begins to undress.

"You joining me?" Blaine pulls off his shirt.

Kurt stares at Blaine as he stands there shirtless. Stares at hard muscles covered in black ink. Fingers and tongue itching to trace and learn every line of Blaine's muscles and tattoos. He’s intrigued to know every story behind them. To know which ones are the most important to Blaine.

He's been with guys who were fit and had tattoos. But not like this. Not a man who looks every bit the dangerous he is. A guy who could easily wrap his hands around his throat or haul him over his shoulder. A guy who is the true definition of a bad boy, and not the watered down version Jackie called the ones at their school.

"Kurt?"

Kurt shakes his head and lifts his eyes up to Blaine's that hold laughter. "What?"

"Are you going to join me?" Blaine gestures to the water.

After quickly stripping down to just his underwear, Kurt takes Blaine's offered hand and jumps with him into the warm water. He breaks the surface, sputtering water and laughing. Feeling the happiest he's been in a long time.

Blaine pulls him close and kisses him.

His heart flutters and stomach swoops.

They lose time kissing and swimming. Kurt barely notices the passing of time. Minutes feel like seconds. Time somehow ceases to be at one point. It's just the two of them and what feels like forever.

Where he fears his feelings are one-sided, that fear is put to rest when Blaine pulls him close and says he feels it too.

Kurt isn't sure what is happening. But he knows it's something special and magical and a once in a lifetime experience.

Out of the water some time later and lying on the warm, soft grass, they hungrily kiss like it's been days and not minutes since they last did so.

Thighs parted and Blaine lying between his legs, Kurt moans at their nearly naked, wet bodies pressing close together. Heat swirls in his belly as his cock grows hard. Against his hip, he feels Blaine hard as well.

Blaine reaches down and palms at his bulge. "Can I taste you?"

Although something reminds Kurt he barely knows Blaine, that he's still a complete stranger to him, he finds himself nodding his head. Because something else, something that overshadows his other thoughts, is yelling at him how right and perfect this feels.

Blaine pushes up onto his knees and hooks his fingers in the band of his underwear. Kurt lifts his hips to let him pull them off. His hard cock springs free and smacks against his belly. Blaine pulls his underwear and tosses them in the direction where their clothes are.

Lying on the grass naked, the sun warm on his wet skin, Kurt feels beautiful and wanted as Blaine looks at him with a hunger no other guy has ever looked at him with before. He wants to be owned by Blaine. To fall into this wonderful moment forever and forget about the horrible secret he's keeping. A secret that made the decision to come with Blaine easy.

Lips press kisses down his neck and along his shoulder. They brush over the scar on his left shoulder. The one he got when he was eleven. He sees the curious question in Blaine's eyes when he lifts his head.

"Please, don't," he softly begs. He can't let Blaine ask about the scar. Because he'll break and tell him. And he doesn't want him to know. Can't let him know. "Please..." He grabs the back of Blaine's head and pulls him down to kiss him. Against his lips, he softly pleads, "Please, don't question it."

He breathes a sigh of relief when Blaine nods his head and begins trailing kisses down his chest and stomach. Tenses when Blaine brushes his fingers over the scar on his left hip while his lips brush a kiss to the scar just above his belly button. He relaxes when Blaine continues his path down his body and doesn't question it like he begged for.

The first drag of Blaine's tongue along the underside of his cock has him loudly moaning.

Blaine doesn't tease him. He kisses the tip of his cock before taking it into his mouth. Gives a long, hard suck before setting up a steady rhythm.

The sensation is wonderful. Kurt finds himself quickly on the edge. Cries out not long after from a powerful release. He shakes and trembles as Blaine pulls off and kisses him. Is still doing so when he shoves his underwear off and starts to jerk his cock.

He looks down and watches Blaine fist his cock. Watches the leaking, purple head push through the tight fist of his hand.

Blaine drops his head on his shoulder and grunts and groans as he chases his release. "Fuck. I... Can I..."

"Yes," Kurt moans into Blaine's ear, knowing what he wants. "Come on me."

Those three words trigger Blaine's orgasm. His cock jerks as he spills over his fist and onto his chest and stomach. Kurt softly whimpers as Blaine's release covers his skin.

He's never felt more owned and desired.

A laugh escapes him after Blaine collapses on top of him in a breathless, boneless heap with a soft fuck.

As they peacefully lie there in a comfortable silence, the sound of their breathing mixing with the sounds of the world around them, the sun starting to set, Kurt wishes time would stop so he could spend the rest of his life in this perfect moment.

"We should clean up," Blaine says after a while when the cum on their skin begins to dry.

Kurt agrees. Follows Blaine back into the water. Smiles when Blaine pulls him close not long after and claims his mouth in a rough kiss.

They get off together one more time before climbing out of the water. They lie on the grass lazily making out while drying off. Start to get dressed once they are.

The sky is turning dark when Kurt climbs onto Blaine's bike behind him to head home. And the sun is completely gone when Blaine finally pulls up in front of his house.

"Nice house."

"Thanks," Kurt mumbles, hiding his hatred for the place where he lives.

He climbs off the bike.

"I had a great time," Blaine says.

"Me too." It was the best time he's had in an extremely long time.

"Can I see you again?"

Kurt lets out a soft giggle when Blaine pulls him close and grabs at his ass. "Yes."

"When?"

"I'll call you."

"I'll impatiently wait."

Kurt laughs and kisses Blaine bye. And as he stands there and watches him drive away, he's left to wonder if the Blaine he was told about was just Jackie talking shit. Because the guy he got to know today didn't fit the person described to him.

He turns on his heel and walks to the front door of the house he hates. The house that feels more like a prison than a home.

The moment he steps into the house a hand roughly smacks him across the face. Kurt stumbles the slightest but shows no reaction to the hit. Has learned to contain his anger and hurt when struck. To project any kind of emotion, he learned at a young age, will only draw out the punishment.

Head lifted, the left side of his face stinging, and lip burning where it was split open by the ring, he stares at his stepdad. At Caleb Rothstein. The man he regrets his mom meeting and marrying.

The first time Caleb laid a hand on him was when he was seven. He was playing around in the living room and accidentally knocked over a vase. Caleb was beyond pissed and punched him in the stomach so hard he threw up the lunch he ate. He cried until he fell asleep.

Life since then hasn’t been the same.

"Where were you?" Caleb snarls at him. His eyes are hard with anger and rage, both of which he doesn't contain.

"With a friend."

Caleb slaps him again. This time he falls to the floor. "That's bullshit! Jackie called and said you left with that criminal!"

Kurt breathes through the pain radiating on the side of his face. He glares up at his stepdad. Mentally tells himself he only has a few months left before he leaves this place, and this man, for good.

"Tell me the fucking truth!"

Instead of lying and being punished even more for doing so, he decides to just be honest and deal with whatever Caleb does.

"I was with Blaine."

"You son of a-"

Kurt pulls in a gasping breath when Caleb roughly kicks him in his stomach. Tears well in his eyes after Caleb does it several more times. He curls into a ball to protect himself.

"You stay the fuck away from him! I find out you're with him again and I'll make you regret it."

The threat doesn't scare him. Not like it would have when he was younger.

Only after hearing Caleb's retreating footsteps does he slowly push himself up and escape upstairs to the safety of his room. Once there, he locks the door and pushes the dresser in front of it. Knows from experience that Caleb sometimes isn't finished with him and will come into his room and take out whatever anger he has on him.

Later, as he stands in front of his bathroom mirror after a shower, towel around his hips, he eyes the bruising already starting on his stomach. He brushes his fingers over the discolored skin. Hates that he knows the bruise will take at least a week to disappear. Which means there's no point in him going with his friends to the lake tomorrow. The bruising will be worse by then.

As he lifts his eyes to his split lip, barely touches a finger to the broken skin, he touches his other fingers to his lips. A smile turns up his mouth as he thinks about Blaine's mouth on him. How right and amazing it felt. How he wants to feel that again.

He dresses and climbs into bed. Ignores his stomach when it growls. Would rather go to bed hungry than risk going to get something to eat and running into Caleb.

He grabs his phone to text Jackie.

Kurt: Can't go tomorrow. In trouble.

It's total bullshit since Caleb told him nothing about not being able to go with his friends. But there's no way he can go with them and explain his injuries.

Jackie: Why?

Kurt: You know why

Kurt: I'll talk to you later

Kurt shuts off his phone to avoid Jackie's reasoning for telling his stepdad about Blaine. He knows she only meant well. But he wishes she wouldn't have said anything at all. Because now he's holding a pillow to his tender stomach while fearful of what else Caleb might do to him.

As he lies there, though, he thinks of Blaine and how even with Caleb's threats, he won't stop seeing him.

#klaine #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #Kurt Hummel #Blaine Anderson #hope you like it #shiraz66

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dazaisgem · 3 years

Text

7 Minutes In Heaven - Yuji Itadori

Oh, God.

Initially, this was never going to be anything more than a mere compromise for your idiotic roommate. You had not anticipated this. No. No way in hell were you ever prepared to be sitting in a dim classroom with a crowd of attractive individuals who most likely had a few looses screw, nut jobs in the kindest form possible. An oddity is intriguing and enjoyable in your experience. Excluding your buddy, she takes weird to a whole different level. Weirdness is written all over her punchable face, only for it to fall off and be replaced by a more accurate term, and that title being; sexy bimbo. Indeed your friend Kiyomi was a sexy bimbo. She acts out on pure self-satisfaction and can not recognize a squid from an octopus. Moreover, that sexy bimbo urged you to get in an unoccupied (of any staff) classroom, with a group of hotties huddled in a corner playing seven minutes in heaven.

Hot men and women left and right, as Kiyomi, pushed you into the crowd of turn-ons in what seems to be a physics class. Now sitting next to a green-haired girl, who appeared to be attempting to conclude where it all went south and how the bloody hell she was in the position she currently was in, sitting next to two horndogs as they exchanged salvias and prodded their way into each others mouth, playing cat and mouse with their tongues, while gripping furiously onto each other, she grimaced pushing up her glasses. Kill me now, she thought before scooting away. You really could relate to her. Those two were either extremely carefree or drunk. Or just horny.

People who decided that participating in the game seven minutes in heaven was too beneath their caliber were sitting at the empty desks drinking away whisky, wine, and beer that they acquired from who knows where. A brunette and a blonde sitting opposite of the eye-pleasing group rolled up their joints, laughing away at shallow jokes that were not in the least bit humorous. Instead, they seemed to piss you off, but you made no effort to express it. Alternatively, you turned your back to them, mumbling incoherent words of distaste in their dull choice of humor. Although maybe it was the weed affecting them, no, you doubt it. A strong voice forced your attention away from the nobodies,

"Alright, alright! We're going to start this party, so whoever's joining, get your asses over here!" A brunette shouted-you couldn't entirely distinguish her hair between being a brunette or an orange head due to lights being off- grabbing the attention of all those in the classroom.

Shifting a bit further into the group, looking around in anticipation, because, to be frank, you've never played seven minutes in heaven. Of course, you know of the rules, but you've only ever seen this game in movies that solely perform it to enter the top ten on Netflix by securing points with horny teenagers. So to be gathered in a circle with extremely breathtaking individuals, have your heart thrashing at an accelerated, erratic pace.

Does my breath smell good? Oh, God, where the hell is Kiyomi!?

Glancing around in search of your friend, you choke on your spit when you see her topping a guy while she whispers sweet nothings into his ear as he leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down the line of her sharp jaw. Sporting a Chester grin as she makes eye contact with you, she slowly sticks out her tongue and licks over his collarbone, leaving a path of hot wet spittle while maintaining her gaze with yours. As strands of her luxurious coal-colored hair slip over her pale skin, she skims her palms up his neck, entangling her fingers within his rosy locks, she bites down.

Holy Fuck.

Rubbing your legs together in need of some sort of friction to ease the tingling sensation within your thighs, you hastily turn away as your cheeks are a stain of an embarrassing hue of red. If you had stared any longer, losing yourself in those gorgeous emerald orbs of hers, you would faint.

Dammit, Kiyomi, why did you have to be a sexy ass bimbo!

The clatter of a glass bottle spinning grabs your attentiveness as you hear howls of encouragement meant for a man named Itadori. Cause of Kiyomi's erotic play, you didn't realize the game had already begun, utterly distracted by her lewd antics.

The bottle seemed to whirl endlessly. As everyone pushed further into the circle, clenching fists in anticipation, all but one, that is. A dark-haired man sat still, his back a little hunched over as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand.

"It's stopping its stopping," a boy shouted,

"We know Itadori, you idiot. You can shut up.'' The same orange head who started the game jabbed the boy named Itadori in the ribs. Earning a yelp of pain from the boy, pouting his lips, he murmured,

"Why are you so rude Kugasaki,"

"What was that!?"

The coke-a-cola bottle finely was nearing its end. As it slowed down, passing by several people before stopping right in front of you. The red lid of the bottle facing you, as everyone seemed to stop their chatter and stare at you,

oh, God.

"Itadori! Go in the closet with her!" Kugasaki said, pointing her slim finger at you as Itadori and the others continued their gawking. Unsure of who exactly you were.

"Hey," Itadori said, "What's your name?" peering directly at you with the most wholesome expression, he sat silently awaiting your response.

"(y/n) (l/n)," you said,

"Oh, I know you! Your friends with Orihara, yeah yeah, I know you!"

"You know Kiyomi?"

"Yeah, she slept with my brother Sukuna. They're making out right over there." he pointed to where Kiyomi and his brother were.

Of course, Kiyomi slept with his brother.

"Stop with the chit-chat! And go in the damn closet already."

Shoving Itadori continuously to stand up, Kugasaki grinned when he finally stood up with hurried, okays. She then leaned over to you.

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

"You gonna' go in the closet or what?" she said,

"Yeah, I'm going to go." Hurriedly pulling yourself up, you stood a bit, hesitant of where to go until Itadori aimed his finger towards the closet with a gentle smile before sauntering to the cabinet, with you moving quickly after.

A go' get em' girl! Shouted by Kiyomi was heard as she observed you and the boy waltzing into the depths of darkness, knowing the quite obvious outcome. Sensual energy seeping through the shut cracks.

***

The initial thought that befell upon you was that the closet was exceedingly tiny, leaving little to no room for a thing we all appreciate termed; personal space. Yeah, your bodies flushed together as Itadoris hands fluttered behind the small of your back. Your faces centimeters apart that you could inhale the sweet fragrance of honey. Most likely from a candy, he had been eating, the crampiness leaving no leeway for decisions as you stare deeply into each other's eyes.

It was as if there were an invisible string that only brought your faces closer and closer, and no matter how much you wanted to resist, this magical cord only tugged harder as his breath fanned above yours.

"We don't have to do anything, you know," he murmured, his scent overriding all of your senses, and you felt as if your knees were to buckle any moment from the waves you felt throughout your entire body. He had only said something so vague as to be nameless, and you were about ready to bend over for a guy whom you had just met. Pitiful, embarrassing, perhaps, so it was. But you couldn't ignore what your body wanted, and it was to be all over his. It wanted to be on top of him, riding him, leisurely and sensually, as beads of sweat would roll down your burning face, contorting as his length skillfully hit that glorious point that had black and white invading your vision. Pitiful indeed.

"But, what if I said that I wanted to...

He let out an unsteady breath. You felt as though you were on the verge of passing out,

God, could this room get any hotter?

"So you wouldn't mind if I did this?" his voice was hardly below a whisper, and his hand, which had been hovering over the small of your back, was now pressed firmly, pushing you remarkably closer than you both already were.

You could feel your heart hammering in your ears and chest. You couldn't help but wonder if Itadori was feeling the same way. If he, too, felt this unyielding string of lustful desires, but you couldn't tell.

Perhaps that was for the best.

The unholy images rushing within his mind have him internally groaning. It was dark, and he could feel your round breasts squished against his chest, as his clammy grip only drove you further towards him. You smelt of ginger. Spicy and sweet, it was a killer combination that had his little bit of restraint withering away. He knew that the point of the game was to be making out right now. But he couldn't allow himself to make out with a girl who probably didn't even want to be there in the first place. But when your intoxicating smell fills him to the brim and your sweet voice sends shivers down his spine, he discovers himself drifting in the direction of those delicate lips. A taste, a feel, he wants it-he needs it.

"I won't mind," you whisper.

If you hadn't said that, maybe he wouldn't wildly have pushed you harshly against the closet wall. Perhaps he wouldn't have swallowed up your yelp of surprise with a sloppy kiss. But you did. You smelled so good, you tasted so sweet, and most of all, you smacked back with just as much greed.

Tongues lapping and twirling in an unsynchronized rhythm as his hands strayed from your back to clutching your waist. While you were holding onto his neck, occasionally roughly tugging at his pink hair, you let out a muffled moan. This kiss was nowhere near as gentle as you imagined it would be. No. It was broken and careless. Hot and messy. But it was perfect. His mouth against yours. The way your heads would shift to the side in an attempt to deepen into each other's mouths.

Nothing had ever tasted more pleasing than this.

"Alright, times up!" the voice of Kugasaki broke you and Itadori out of your sensual daze.

Slowly separating, a string of salvia connecting you and him. His light brown eyes bore into your (e/c) ones. Deep breaths-and you're sure he could hear your thrashing heart- the only thing heard in the tiny closet. Still hanging onto each other, he cracked a smile.

"That-that was, it was great," he breathed out,

"Yeah," your voice was fragile, airy, and so damn hot. So sexy it had Itadori leaning down to capture your lips in another ecstatic kiss. That is, until the door slammed open with Kiyomi being in the doorway, a grin so grand and mischievous, it would put the joker to shame. Yes, the joker would shrivel in fear in the face of Kiyomi Orihara, for she was always seeking (or creating) havoc to satisfy the big clown in her. And as she would do those deeds, her broad clown face constantly unraveled itself. And as she stood in the pathway to enter the cabinet. That terrifying clown face was painted as clear as day on her beautifully punchable face.

"Hey Itadori, your brother Sukuna thinks it’s about time to head home, and since he is your ride and I (y/n)'s, it seemed appropriate for me to let you both know we're heading home.”

#itadori x reader #itadori fluff #itadori x y/n #yuuji x you #yuji itadori #7 minutes in heaven #jujutsu kaisen

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

I Carry Your Heart With Me (Prologue)

Summary: When your college roommate asks you to be a bridesmaid at her wedding, you pack your bags and jump on a flight to Montana. What was supposed to be a relaxing week on the husband-to-be’s ranch is turned upside down when an old flame decides to make an appearance. Mix in lingering feelings, a meddling bride, and the mother of all misunderstandings, and your week out west turns out to be a whole lot more than you bargained for.

series masterlist

playlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2.5k

Spencer gets the email on a Tuesday.

He’s fresh off of a quick trip to a nearby café that sells the most delectable scones, and he’s eagerly unwrapping one and lifting it to his mouth when he gets the notification. The quiet ping is enough to make him pause with the scone midway to its destination.

Because the thing is, Spencer Reid doesn’t get a lot of emails. In fact, there are approximately ten people that even know his email address, and seven of them are currently in the same room as him. Spencer peers over the top of his monitor and scans the room. No one is doing anything indicative of having sent Spencer yet another prank email (thanks a lot, Luke), so he deems it safe and clicks on the email icon.

As it boots up, Spencer takes a bite of his scone. The warm, sugary dough tastes like heaven in his mouth, once again proving to Spencer that the fifteen-minute walk there is more than worth his time. He’s mid-swallow when his inbox pops up on the screen, and when he sees the all too familiar name on the sender’s address, he inhales a sharp breath that leaves him choking on his pastry.

Mr. and Mrs. Charles Melville

Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Sewell

Joyfully request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their children

Cassidy and Mason

Saturday, the twenty-seventh of May

Two thousand nine-teen

His choking fit garners the attention of every one of his colleagues, but Spencer can’t bring himself to care. All he can focus on is sucking in as much air as possible in between coughs. It doesn’t help that his oxygen deprived brain is currently reeling. Long suppressed memories are fighting their way to the surface, and now it’s not only his lungs that are engulfed in a searing heat, but his heart, too.

Cassidy Sewell. A fiery, opinionated redhead that Spencer hasn’t thought of in nearly fifteen years. But Cassidy isn’t the reason that he feels like a knife has been thrust into his ribcage, nor is she the reason he is currently aspirating his scone. The basis of his distress is another woman entirely.

Spencer eventually regains control of his windpipe and when he does, he rereads the email several times. It’s wonderful news - really, it is. And he’s happy for Cassidy. His memories of her are plentiful and he thinks back on them fondly. The only problem is that he knows wherever Cassidy is, you’ll be there, too.

He really should just delete the email and go on about his business - that would be the smart thing to do. But Spencer’s never really been smart when it comes to you, so he does the worst thing possible and clicks on the ‘view recipients’ button.

And sure enough, your name falls just above his on the list.

Which brings up another issue entirely; why is he receiving this email? And, more importantly, do you know that he’s been invited? Spencer can only come up with two possible answers to that question, and both are equally heartbreaking. Either you know he’s been invited and you’re indifferent to the fact, or you haven’t a clue and his showing up would be entirely inappropriate.

He briefly entertains the possibility of a third option; one in which you knew he’d received an invitation and were hopeful that he might show up. Spencer allows this possibility to live in his mind for approximately two seconds before he’s stomping it out and killing it. That’s just… unlikely.

“Ooh! Who’s getting married?”

Spencer quickly exits out of his email and spins around in his chair to find Penelope pouting her lip out at him.

“No one. Just a spam email,” Spencer lies. His efforts are in vain, however, because Penelope fixes him with an unimpressed glare.

“I’m going to save you and I both the trouble of me hacking into your computer and offer you the opportunity to try that again.”

Spencer visibly deflates and mentally curses the creators of the interconnected computer networks. He weighs his options. He could be completely honest and be subjected Penelope’s endearing, yet suffocating enthusiasm, or he could skim a little bit off the top and hope she doesn’t pump him for information.

Spencer decides on the latter.

“An old friend.”

Penelope narrows her eyes at him and he shrinks under her gaze. She might not be a profiler, but she damn sure could be.

“Then why do you look like you’re about to hurl?”

“No reason.”

They’ve reached a stalemate, and Spencer isn’t quite sure what to do with that. Usually, if this were a chest match, Spencer would already have the upper hand. He’s not used to being backed into a corner. At first, Spencer’s sure that he can outlast Penelope’s inquisition, but the longer those seemingly omniscient eyes of hers bore into his own, he can feel his resolve crumbling into nothing. All it takes is her lifting one perfectly plucked eyebrow in challenge for him to break.

“An ex-girlfriend of mine will be in attendance.”

Spencer knows he’s fucked from the way Penelope’s entire face lights up upon hearing that little tidbit of information. In a flash Penelope’s dragging over an empty chair and seating herself directly in front of Spencer, eyes shining excitedly.

“Tell me everything.”

So, he does.

And an hour later, Penelope is booking him a flight to Montana.

“I cannot believe you did this to me,” you murmur into the receiver as you stare at your computer screen. Your eyes are zeroed in on the email, but all the words are blurring together into an intelligible mess. All except two.

Spencer Reid

“Correction; I did this for you,” Cassidy replies, sounding awfully pleased with herself. If you could see her, you were certain she’d be grinning ear to ear. “You can’t tell me that you’re not the least bit excited at the possibility of seeing him again.”

“That is exactly what I’m telling you!” you groan as you throw your head against the back of your chair. “Fifteen years is a long time, Cass. I’ve moved on, and I’m sure he has, too. That door is closed.”

Cassidy snorts, “Well open that sucker back up, because I just got an RSVP from one Doctor Spencer Reid who, and I quote, ‘cannot wait to see everyone.’ This RSVP came without a plus one, might I add.”

You jolt up in your seat and instantly regret it when your stomach churns painfully as a result. Suddenly, your decision to place your waste basket on the opposite side of the room seems awfully ill advised. The only thing keeping you from lunging for it and expelling the contents of your stomach is the fact that he isn’t bringing anyone with him, which is… something.

“He’s coming?” you squeak out. “Why would he do that?”

Another laugh from Cassidy floats out through the speaker.

“Well, I’d like to think he might be going to see one of his oldest and dearest friends get married, but I think we both know that this has nothing to do with me, and a whole lot to do with you.”

You’re just about to open your mouth to protest when a head of long, blonde hair peeks through the crack of your door. You only know one man with a head of hair like that, and that man just so happens to be the only other person in your life that lives for taking the piss at your expense. You can’t help but think that you must’ve done something terrible in a past life to be subjected to all of this before noon on a Tuesday morning.

You wave Damien in, because why the hell not? He’d be hearing about it over one or several bottles of wine this evening, anyways. What was one more spectator to the worst moment of your entire adult life?

As he takes his seat in a chair in front of your desk, you flash him a tight smile and turn your attention back to Cassidy.

“You’re reading way too much into this. He probably doesn’t even remember me.”

“You know that boy does not forget anything,” Cassidy points out.

Yeah, you think, and that’s what makes not hearing from him for fifteen years even worse. That means the radio silence was a choice.

“Doesn’t matter. You need to uninvite him. I’m being so serious right now.”

“I absolutely will not. That’d be terribly rude of me,” Cassidy sniffs. “And you obviously have no choice but to attend, Miss Maid of Honor, so consider this your warning. I was going to keep this a secret, but Mason said that would be cruel. So.”

You want to argue that the entire thing is cruel, but Cassidy’s indifference to your plight leads you to believe that your protest would fall on deaf ears. To make matters worse, Damien looks positively delighted at the prospect of something exciting happening. He’s literally sitting on the edge of his seat, leaning forward in an attempt to hear Cassidy’s end of the conversation.

You really needed to pick more sympathetic friends.

“I’m going to hang up now, because I physically cannot handle being a part of this conversation any longer.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cassidy trills. “Trust me, you’re going to thank me for this later. Oh, and do yourself a favor and Google search him. You will not be disappointed!”

At that, the line goes dead. You don’t even have the chance to say something embarrassing like too late, I already do that like twice a year, which is probably a good thing.

You slam down the phone and let your head fall into your hands, adding in a dramatic groan for good measure. Usually, you like to think you’re a little more level headed, but the Spencer Reid sized hole in your heart that you’d been trying to mend for the last decade and a half was just ripped wide open, so you figure you deserve a moment to panic.

Damien, however, doesn’t share that same belief.

“I get that you’re trying to have a moment, and I respect that, but you know how impatient I get and I haven’t seen you this upset since One Direction split up. Color me intrigued. What did dear Cassidy do to get your knickers in such a twist?”

You lift your head and fix him with a withering look.

“She invited Spencer.”

That wipes the smile right off of Damien’s face.

“Oh, fuck,” Damien swears. Finally, someone understands how extremely not okay this situation is. You let out another despairing groan. “What are the chances he’s actually going to show up?”

You chuckle bitterly, “Pretty fucking high, if you consider the fact that he already RSVP’d any indication.” You push away from your desk and begin to pace around the room, all while fanning your shirt out because holy hell did it get hot in here, or is it just you? “I mean, I could always back out. It’s Cassidy’s fault anyways. It’s not like she could hold that against me. She’s the one who did this, after all.”

“Oh, she most certainly would. And you’re not going to going to skip out on the wedding - quit being so dramatic.”

You snap your head to where he sits and narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh, I’m not? Who’s gonna stop me?” you challenge.

You can practically see the light bulb go on inside that blonde head of his. Damien gives you a saccharine smile and claps his hands together.

“I am. Because I’m going to go with you,” he announces excitedly. You’d think he just came up with a way to end world hunger from the pride that’s practically radiating off of him in waves.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You’re going to come with me? To Montana? Have you ever even been outside of New York?”

Damien shrugs his shoulders.

“No, but that’s about to change. Plus, weddings are fun,” Damien pauses, before tacking on, “-bridesmaids are fun.”

If he weren’t such a damn good friend, you’d throw him out of your office.

His proposition was tempting. Being in close proximity with Spencer for almost an entire week was going to be harrowing as it was, but add to that the inevitable sight of Spencer in a suit and harrowing graduates to fucking excruciating. Having Damien in your corner to keep you sane was more of a necessity than a want.

But still, you hesitate, because the idea of both Cassidy and Damien conspiring against you for an entire week sounds like the undiscovered tenth circle of hell.

Damien apparently senses your apprehension. He lets out an exasperated sigh and pushes up from his seat, walking over to where you stand and placing his hands on your shoulders.

“I solemnly swear to be on my best behavior. You have my permission to fire me if I act up, Boss Lady.”

Your shoulders slump under the weight of his hands.

“You know I can’t fire you,” you grumble, pouting out your lip for dramatic effect. “If I fire you, then I’m stuck with fucking Brenda. And I doubt she’d be as agreeable a drinking partner as you.”

Damien lets out a loud laugh and pulls you into his arms. You melt into his embrace, sighing in resignation. Might as well bring him along for the ride. It’s not like the situation could get any worse than it already is, right?

“Brenda is the worst,” Damien agrees as he places a kiss to the top of your head. After basking in his warm embrace for several moments, you pull away and run a hand through your hair.

“Okay. Okay,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Damien. “I can do this. Worst comes to worst; I can just avoid him. Five days isn’t that long. I can do five days.”

Damien leans up against your desk and nods in agreeance.

“Exactly. Five days, in and out – no big deal,” he breezes. Like the absolute bastard he is, he waits until you’re taking a sip from your travel mug before continuing. “And who knows? Maybe the two of you will pick up where you left off and have some slutty wedding sex.”

Now, there’s coffee all over your white blouse and Damien’s laughing obnoxiously at your expense.

“You did not just quote One Tree Hill at me,” you choke out between ragged breaths.

Damien doesn’t waver under the weight of your death glare.

“I so did. Best show of our time, truly. Chase hit the nail on the head with that one. Weddings are always an absolute bone fest - trust me. Something about all the proclamations of love and eternal commitment gets everyone all hot and bothered.”

“There will be no slutty wedding sex,” you mutter as you dab at the coffee stain.

“There will be if I’m going,” Damien trills as he pushes off of your desk and saunters to the door. “Don’t rule it out, babe. No need to miss out on all the fun!”

You roll your eyes and toss the wadded-up paper towel at him. Damien is quick to shut the door, resulting in the paper towel hitting it with a wet plop.

Damien’s absence leaves the room uncomfortably silent, save for the sound of your heart nearly beating out of your chest. You hesitantly lift your eyes back to your computer screen, and as irrational as it is, you pray that you’ll see that something has changed in the past ten minutes. Unsurprisingly, his name is still there, just below your own.

You silently curse the tiny twinge of excitement you feel from seeing his name and exit out of the email.

Five days, in and out. No big deal.

taglist: @is-this-even-important @evelyncade @usuck @m0rce1ddd @bauhousewife @whxt-to-write @spencerwaltergubler @lovesicksofi @idgafayiowf @shadyladyperfection @mercy-burning @sapphic-prentiss

317 notes · View notes

alotofteez · 3 years

Text

Love Shot | JYH

⇢ Pairing: Frat boy!Yunho x Bartender!Reader (gender neutral) ft. bff San and Mingi ⇢ Genre: Fluff with dashes of angst, College!au, slow burn (??) ⇢ Warnings: Language, toxic relationship, alcohol consumption ⇢ Word Count: 4,254 ⇢ Synopsis: He cares a lot about the people around him, and it doesn’t seem fair that the one person he cares most for doesn’t return that same affection. ⇢ Same Universe: Hazelnut Latte (San) and Background Music (Seonghwa)

The beat pounds against the walls drenched in blue neon light. It feels like a cheap TikTok video. The only thing keeping you entertained is the drink in your hand, and you mixed that yourself. How your friend managed to get you to come to a frat party is a mystery you’ll never understand.

“Why do people want to come to these things? It smells weird and there’s nothing fun to do.” You say into your cup.

“You can go dance,” Your friend suggests.

You throw her an annoyed glance. “Do I look like the type to dance?”

“Alright…” Your friend’s eyes scan the living room for ideas, “Throw that back and kiss the hottest person here.”

“Don’t get mad when I don’t kiss you,” you joke before tossing your head back, the sour alcohol slithering down your throat, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

Having never been in this fraternity house, you’re just guessing where the bathroom is. You walk down a hall and find a door with light shining under it. Hopefully, it’s the right door, or else you’re going to look like a weirdo when whoever walks out.

With a deep sigh, you lean against the wall across from the door. Your mind tries to rationalize why you’re still at this party. Neither you nor your friend really knows anyone here; some guy in her statistics class invited her because his fraternity wanted more girls to show up. Before you try to find more reasons to be annoyed, a presence turns the corner from where you came.

“Oh, there’s a line,” the tall guy says and stops a couple of feet away.

“Unfortunately,” you exhale.

As if on cue, someone hurls on the other side of the door.

“I’d rather piss in the front yard.” You push off the wall, defeated.

“I know where another bathroom is.” The guy motions you to follow him back to the front door and up the stairs.

“Are we allowed up here though?” You ask quietly, afraid to get caught.

He chuckles, “Yeah, it’s my bathroom.”

“Oh…”

He opens a door and flips on the light. “Ta-da.”

You awkwardly giggle. “Thanks.”

The bathroom is surprisingly clean compared to your expectations. Knowing he’s waiting, you quickly do your business and wash your hands. When you walk out, he’s leaned against the opposite wall, and you notice how attractive he is, hands shoved into his jean pockets, dark hair neatly splayed across his forehead. Suddenly, you’re embarrassed by your entire interaction.

“Thank you for letting me, you know,” You say awkwardly gesturing to the bathroom.

“No problem,” he smiles and walks next to you back to the stairs.

“Do you not need to…”

“No, I was put on toilet paper duty.”

That shouldn’t have been funny to you, but a laugh finds its way out. He shyly grins, cheeks turning pink.

“I’m Yunho, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You introduce yourself as the two of you reach the bottom of the stairs.

He glances up at a group of girls and tries to suppress a sigh. “I’ll see you around. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

You watch him walk over to the girls, one stepping up to him. “What the hell were you doing? Who is that?” You faintly hear her go off on him while heading back to your friend.

“Did you fall in?” She immediately asks.

“No, someone walked me to a bathroom upstairs,” you laugh, catching a glimpse of Yunho following behind the girl, her hand clinging to his. Ah, of course, he’s taken.

Midnight is just on the horizon, and the wave of party pregamers should be rolling in any minute. Fresh glass cups are being restocked behind the counter by a coworker, readying for the onslaught of expected orders. It’s a Friday night, and there are certainly parties happening on fraternity row. The bar you work at, Mixya, is the closest to campus, automatically dubbing it the unofficial college campus favorite.

Just like clockwork, a large group loudly enters the bar. You hear your coworker sigh. You’re both disappointed but not surprised. The girls of the group are the first to approach, and you’re not mentally prepared to make a shit ton of cocktails.

After the first three, a girl drags a familiar guy to the counter: Yunho. There’s a hint of annoyance on his face, and when he makes eye contact with you, there’s a sudden recognition, probably realizing you’re the person from that party who said they’d rather pee in the front yard… The way the girl rattles off her order annoys you enough to understand him. As you land a cup on the bar, you look at him expectantly.

“I’ll just have a water,” he says, earning a look of confusion from the girl, “Someone has to drive you home.”

“Babe, you’re no fun.” She rolls her eyes.

Your eyebrows shoot up at ‘babe,’ while you pour him a water.

He sighs, putting a card on the counter, “Can you start a tab for her?”

You take it and swipe. He nervously takes it back, fingers barely brushing.

“Thank you,” he smiles and takes his drinks.

When the last customer of the group leaves, you hear your coworker grumble something as you wipe down the counter.

“Can you imagine dating that beautiful ass man and having the nerve to get mad at him for being a good boyfriend?” She asks rhetorically, studying Yunho and his girlfriend seemingly argue at their table, “Like, girl, I will gladly take him off your hands.”

The snort that finds its way out is the ugliest sound you have ever made, but that doesn’t stop you from laughing, “But for real though.”

To your enjoyment, Yunho visits the counter a couple more times which your coworker happily mixes his orders. But now you’re alone behind the bar and you see him walking your way.

“Hi. Y/N from that party the other week, right?” He asks nervously.

“Yes, that’s me,” you answer, pleasantly surprised, “What can I get you?”

“Another cherry vodka sour.”

Though this is probably his girlfriend’s fourth one, you don’t hesitate to make it. When you sit the completed drink in front of him, you notice someone on the table where his friends are and you immediately recognize her. Yunho’s eyes follow yours, and he turns back to you, horrified.

“Tell her to get off the table.” You lower your voice as to not make a big deal out of it. He hurriedly nods, grabs the drink, and rushes over. You watch him guide her back into her seat. It’s only her first strike of the night.

The flow of orders has slowed down, and very few people sit at the stools. It’s rolling up on 2 AM, a little more than an hour until closing. Just as you notice a part of the Mixya neon sign above the booths is beginning to flicker, a sudden commotion by the pool tables catches your attention.

“No, you’re not getting another drink.” Yunho catches his girlfriend’s arm before she can reach the bar.

“I can have however many I want. You’re not the boss of me.” She snaps and jerks her arm out of his grip, almost falling over.

“Don’t fill any more of her orders. In fact, close our tab.” He says to you, following behind the girl.

“Yunho, stop ruining everyone’s fun!” She shoves at his chest.

“If you drink any more, you’re going to get sick. I’m trying to take care of you.” His brows furrow as he tries not to yell.

“Fuck you,” she spits before going back to collect her friends.

Yunho turns to you with searing red cheeks and ears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. I’ve seen worse couple fights.” You say lightheartedly, earning a small chuckle from him.

You press a few buttons on the register’s screen and print out a receipt for him to sign. After he writes his name, he slides the paper back to you.

“Thanks for your autograph,” you joke casually.

“Don’t try to sell it.” A small smile appears on his lips, and he winks before heading back to his table.

“Did he really just flirt with you after arguing with his girlfriend?” Your coworker’s words catch you off guard.

“He wasn’t flirting,” you say, hoping your face isn’t giving you away. But honestly, you’re glad you aren’t the only one to have noticed his teasing.

The student center is bustling as usual during lunchtime, with foodcourt lines starting to get long. With your only two classes for the day under your belt, you plan on getting a meal to-go, so you can just lounge at your apartment. Glancing around, deciding what you wanted, you feel someone gently touch your arm.

“Y/N?”

You find a familiar tall man with a sheepish smile next to you. It’s Yunho, and he looks fairly different from the other times you’ve seen him. His hair looks fluffy and soft compared to the styled way he has done in the past. He’s dressed in sweats, as one constantly does in college. He looks comfortable.

“Hey,” you greet, a smile spreading across your face.

“I’m so sorry about the other night. My girlfriend doesn’t usually act like that,” he says, gaze dropping to the floor, “I’m pretty embarrassed.”

“Don’t be! We’re used to-”

“Let me buy you lunch,” he interrupts you.

“No, it’s fine. Really, it wasn’t a problem.”

“I feel really guilty. Please?” His puppy dog eyes are getting to you.

“Fine.” You just can’t say no.

As you stand in line at a little pasta kiosk, you exchange funny stories about the wildest drunken bar-goers you’ve dealt with and about how crazy his fraternity brothers have been when Yunho was anointed designated driver. You can tell from his stories that he cares a lot about the people around him, and it doesn’t seem fair that the one person he cares most for doesn’t return that same affection.

When you find a table, you decide to change topics. As amusing as drunk stories are, you want to know more about Yunho.

“So what’s your major?” You ask, sticking your fork into your noodles.

“I’m double majoring in business and dance,” he answers with a hint of bashfulness.

“Double?” You look up at him with wide eyes, “What are you wanting to do?”

“Some friends and I plan to open a dance studio. I want to work with kids and teach them how to dance.”

You’ve heard this plan before… and then it hits you.

“You’re friends with San?” You question in total surprise.

“Yeah, you know him?” There’s a small grin on his lips.

“Yeah, I met him last semester in an accounting class and he pestered me into friendship.”

“Really? What’s your major?” Yunho turns the questions on you with a chuckle.

“Hospitality management. I have to take several business classes. I’m surprised we haven’t had one together.”

“Yeah, that’s weird. What made you want to get that degree?”

“I like the diversity of jobs available and being able to meet a lot of different people. There’s also a possibility of traveling if I get into the tourism side.”

“Oh, that sounds-” His words halt as his phone on the table lights up with a call from ‘Princess.’ “One second.” He says to you before answering it.

“Yeah… I mean, I guess I can… Yes, I know where th- You don’t have to yell at me… I’ll be right there.” Yunho ends the call with a sigh.

“Your Highness awaits?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood from the bad aftertaste of the call.

“I didn’t put ‘Princess’ as her name; she did that. And yeah, I’m really sorry. I have to go pick her up from a coffee shop.”

“It’s fine. I understand.” You give him a small smile, and you can tell he still feels guilty.

He quickly gathers his things and stands from the table. “I’ll see you around.”

Again, you smile and watch him walk away. A part of you hates his girlfriend a little more. It’s because of the total possessiveness and aggressiveness she treats Yunho with. From what you’ve seen, he tends to be reluctantly compliant. He shouldn’t have to be.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Your coworker asks seeing you approach the bar.

“He needed a night out.” You point to your friend San over your shoulder.

“Got tired of caffeine?” She jokes.

“No, my manager won’t get off my ass,” San responds with distaste, “He’s cool, just not at work.”

After giving your coworker your orders, the two of you wait at the counter. San taps the beat of the Top 40 song playing on the speakers. The bar isn’t very crowded like usual, and you glance around the room.

“How many of your friends did you say we were meeting here?” You ask San.

“Two, maybe three,” he answers, his eyes scanning the room as well, “I don’t think they’re here yet.”

Your drinks are placed in front of you before you can ask anything else. San excitedly grabs his and tells you to follow him to a booth. Once seated, he takes a sip of his drink and immediately makes a sour face.

“That doesn’t taste right.” He picks up his glass to examine the liquid.

“She probably spit in it,” you tease, which he just mocks you while sliding out of the booth.

“Grab some napkins while you’re up there,” you request, noticing the ring of water on the table from his cup. These tables are fairly new and haven’t been distorted by water residue yet. The last thing you want is for Mixya to start looking like an Applebee’s…

Your eyes happen to land on the entrance of the bar as a few guys walk in. The one you recognize gives you a small smirk, and your heart starts pounding. Yunho is dressed up nicer than earlier, and it’s doing something to you. Just as you come to terms with acting like you don’t know each other, San arrives back at the table, waving the group over.

“Mingi!” San greets his apparent friend and quickly introduces you to them.

“Yeah, we’ve met before,” Yunho says in passing and slides into the booth next to you.

“Oh, really? When?” San lights up at the conservation.

“Uh, he let me use his bathroom at a party a few weeks ago.” You answer, not looking San in the eye out of embarrassment.

“I couldn’t let you go pee in the front yard,” Yunho teases, which earns laughs from San, Mingi, and their other friend, Jihoon. Your jaw drops at the mention of your small comment. You didn’t think he would actually remember that.

A vibration from Yunho’s pocket interrupts their laughter. Seeing the name on his phone, the mood shifts and he promptly excuses himself to answer his girlfriend’s call.

“That is my cue to grab drinks,” Jihoon says with slight annoyance.

Yunho stands nervously at the entrance, phone pressed to his ear. Though he keeps looking over to your table, his head hangs low like a scolded child. Mingi and San begin to crack jokes about how whipped Yunho is. When Jihoon arrives back with three beers, he joins in on the dissing of Yunho’s girlfriend. You are disheartened by their brazen behavior while Yunho is on the phone for a few minutes… but you really want to agree with their digs at her.

You stare on with concern until Yunho’s eyes suddenly meet yours for a moment, and the conversation seemingly comes to an end as he swiftly shoves his phone back into his pocket. Unsurprisingly, the first thing he does once seated is take a drink of his beer. His return doesn’t stop his friends’ shit-talking though.

“His girlfriend almost didn’t let him come tonight,” Mingi says, smacking a hand on Yunho’s forearm and causing a little bit of his drink to slosh out of its glass.

Yunho shoots his friend a perturbed look before soaking up the spilled drink with a napkin.

“Yeah, she’s kinda possessive,” Jihoon adds.

Yunho becomes withdrawn, quietly agreeing with reluctance, “A little bit.” Or maybe it was shame. He glances at you briefly before averting his gaze to the table.

“Why are you still with her?”

“You can’t just ask him that.”

“Why not? She’s such a bitch to him.”

“Yeah, he deserves better than that.”

As San, Mingi, and Jihoon go back and forth about the toxic relationship, Yunho’s eyes keep resorting to you like he’s worried about your reaction. It seems kind of like a plea for help which you quickly step in.

“Hey, I don’t think now is the time to be talking about this,” you interject, and they immediately apologize to Yunho.

The conversation moves on, but you feel Yunho is still uncomfortable.

“How about a round on me?” You suggest and are met with praise.

Yunho slips out of the booth to let you out, but you catch his arm before he sits back down. “Can you help me carry the shots?”

The relief on his face is almost comical. Your coworker spots you heading to the counter, and you signal five with your hand. Reaching the bar, you lean against it and peer up at Yunho. He’s still quiet.

“Don’t listen to them. They don’t know your relationship like you do. I know you have your reasons.” You break the silence.

“Yeah,” he says and lets out a deep breath, “She loves me, and I love her but not in the same way.” There’s pain hidden in his confession.

The silence returns as you don’t know how to respond. It’s interrupted again but this time by your coworker placing the five shots next to you.

“Your tab?” She asks.

“Put them on San’s.” You say, grabbing two of the small glasses.

Yunho laughs, surprising you. “I thought you said it was on you.”

“Shh. It’ll be fine. San makes good tips at Beans ’N Cream.” You wink with a grin, and Yunho’s mood seems to change.

He takes the remaining shots in one hand and retires back to the booth, leaving you to suddenly realize how big his hands are.

Once you’re seated in the booth again, San and Mingi make a show of holding out their glasses and insist everyone do it too. Clinking the shots together, then hitting them on the table, the five of you throw them back. The sour liquid burns on the way down.

San coughs with a disgusted look on his face, “Ew, what the hell was that?”

Mingi and Jihoon concur with their own complaints.

“Hey!” You burst, “I came up with that recipe, you assholes.”

Yunho laughs behind his hand as you argue with the three across the table. That familiar warmth begins to kick in, and the booth you’re in feels like a secluded bubble where you can fully be yourself. It’s comfortable.

A few more drinks in, the tipsy conversations range from Mingi’s adorable baby pictures to Jihoon’s player behavior. Yunho becomes more engaged, and you notice how he talks with his hands more as a side effect of the alcohol. Your eyes focus on them while he squabbles with Mingi about something that happened in a management class.

“Yunho, can I see your hand?” You ask, not realizing you’ve actually said it aloud.

He looks at you with amusement but still offers one. You immediately hold your hand against his to compare sizes.

“What the fuck…” You mumble at how much larger his is, making the guys crack up. Yunho’s hand naturally holds onto yours as he laughs. He’s a different person now, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

His eyes sparkle, lights reflecting somehow brighter in them. You can’t help but smile at how adorable he looks; cheeks full and tinted pink, shining eyes, and faint dimples. If you didn’t have self-control, there would be nothing stopping you from kissing him. The alcohol coursing through you is definitely not helping either. You feel like you’ve caught fire.

Before wrapping up the night, the five of you loiter outside to say actual goodbyes. Mingi and San make sure everyone has a safe way of getting home.

“Y/N,” Yunho catches your attention.

When you glance over, he holds your phone in front of your face, unlocking it to type something.

“How did you get my phone?” You ask, not really bothered that he has it.

“You were going to leave it on the table,” he answers and casually hands it back. A new contact is displayed on the screen with his name and the tongue out winking emoji.

It’s a Saturday night, and strangely, you don’t have a shift at Mixya. You take this time to finish an exam review with San, who’s difficult to keep focused. You don’t know why you still help him.

With a click of the tongue, San changes the subject, “I heard you’ve been talking to Yunho.”

“Yeah…” You glance at your phone that’s on speaker next to your textbook.

“How long has that been going on?”

“Like two weeks?” You answer unsurely because by now, you feel like you’ve known him for longer.

“Hmm,” he hums, “Have you talked to him today?”

“No, actually.”

That reminds you to check your texts because he hasn’t messaged you all day. He usually texts you by noon.

“I haven’t talked to him either. He hasn’t responded to my texts.”

Your heart falls into your stomach.

“He was supposed to hang out with his girlfriend or something,” San adds.

That’s probably why he hasn’t texted you. You can’t really blame him for that either.

“Well, I’m done studying, so I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll bother you later,” San teases, and you say your goodbyes.

Left alone in silence, you huff, looking down at your phone with nothing else to do. Coincidentally, a text notification with Yunho’s name lights up the screen.

Received: Hey

Sent: Hey

You sit for a second before shooting another text. Your intention isn’t to pry, but you’re curious.

Sent: How’s your day been??

Received: I broke up with my girlfriend if that tells you anything lol

You’re taken aback by the fact he actually just said “lol.”

Sent: um WHAT

Received: She’s been telling her friends that I’m a terrible boyfriend and saying petty shit while she’s talking to some other guy

Sent: How’d you find that out?

Received: She was signed in to her iCloud account on my laptop so her text conversations kept going off

Sent: So you snooped through them? lol

Received: No 😜 the messages showed in the notifications and I just looked at a little bit of the conversation

Sent: Are you okay though?

Received: I’ve been ready for the break up for a while now so yeah I am I guess

Sent: Are you sure? I can come over and hang out so you’re not alone

Received: Really?

Sent: Yeah ‘cause I’m a good person 😇

Received: lmao okay, just walk in the door when you get here

You smile to yourself, excitedly jumping up from your bed. Before leaving, you grab a little surprise from the freezer because what is a breakup consolation without ice cream?

The usually daunting fraternity house doesn’t faze you as you quickly skip up the steps. Knocking a few times before opening the door, you peek around, finding Yunho sprawled on the couch playing on his phone. A smile spreads across his face when he sees you push through the door, and he sits upright. His eyes light up at the tub in your hands.

“You brought ice cream?” He asks so innocently surprised.

“Is it too cliched?” You suddenly feel insecure of your decision.

“No,” he laughs, guiding you to the kitchen, “I was going to ask you when you got here if you wanted to go get some.”

“Really?” You sound amazed, accepting one of the spoons he pulls from a drawer, “I guess we’re both cheesy then.”

He chuckles again as you open the tub and slide it to him.

“No, you have the first bite,” he says, sliding it back to you.

“I brought it for you.” You slide it to him again.

“But it’s yours.” He slides it back.

You grab the spoon in his hand and scoop up a large bite of chocolate ice cream. “Open your mouth,” you playfully demand, holding the spoon up for him, “Before it drips everywhere.”

The spoonful quickly disappears into his mouth while he tries not to laugh.

“Why are you like this?”

“I told you I’m a good person.” You hand him his spoon and use yours to shovel some ice cream into your own mouth.

“Who forces people to eat ice cream.”

“You’re welcome,” you sarcastically say.

His cheeks are faintly blushing, and his smile won’t leave his lips. His happiness was your priority when you left your apartment, and right now, you feel successful. As the two of you talk, he doesn’t bring up his breakup, and you don’t question him about it either. Selfishly, you don’t want it on his mind when he’s with you. That relationship doesn’t deserve any more of his time.

He gazes at you for a moment in silence, just admiring you.

“What?” You ask with a mouthful of ice cream.

“Nothing.” He smiles and focuses back on the tub of ice cream.

164 notes · View notes

rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nesta’s part of the Damnation Series.

OOF this took so long sorry. I rewrote it, changed it, then deleted it entirely about 9 times. I literally started writing the version before you, from scratch, on Sunday. All parts are linked below, so I’m only tagging people on this version! To go to the next chapter, there is also a link at the bottom <3

ALSO, an important caviat: Nesta is an only child in this one! I originally wrote it for her to be adopted and not know it, but it wasn’t really relevant to the story, so... idk. Just ignore that plot hole I guess.

Parts 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 -- pls like each part I’m insecure

______________________________________________

~Cassian~

“You’re getting married.”

The glass of bourbon halfway to my mouth pauses, because despite being known for being rash and unpredictable, even I’m surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

My eyebrows raise as I look over at Rhysand, my best friend and Capo, trying to figure out if this bastard is serious. His tone says he is, but that doesn’t make sense, because before a few seconds ago, the word “marriage” was in neither of our vocabularies.

He’s been single for as long as I have, although I’m starting to suspect he’s got a bird in the city. He’s too damn happy these days, and the other day I saw him laugh at something on his phone.

Which is weird, because we both know long-term commitments don’t really do well with our lifestyle.

We were raised to not give a shit about anything except the job. We kill without remorse, live in the shadows, and whatever other shitty euphemism you want to use. Settling down in some suburban, picket-fence prison has absolutely no appeal to Made Men.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us get married at some point. But never for love.

Some men choose a bride that’s pretty and sweet. Someone who will donate to charity and help clean up their image. Governors’ daughters, women from old-money families, and social princesses make up this category.

Some men marry to advance their station in the Family. Second sons who will never inherit the business marry daughters of Underbosses to get a nice boost to their status.

And then there’s the ones who are forced to marry by their capo--ie. me-- so they choose whatever attractive woman that’s in the Family and available. Those are always the happiest.

But regardless of the reasoning, marriage in the mafia is heartless, political, and for me, unnecessary.

I know I’ll have to pick someone eventually, but there aren’t a whole lot of desirable options at the moment. Not many of the other Underbosses have daughters that are over the age of fifteen right now, and I have no interest in doing the child-bride thing.

Plus, there’s no way I’d marry someone outside of the family. At my rank, it isn’t an option.

That leaves... a widow?

The only one I know is Ianthe, and considering I highly suspect she killed her last husband and the fact that she’s crazy, there’s no way in hell I’d legally bind myself to her for life.

So he must be joking.

I take a pull from my cigar and look over at Rhys with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. To who, exactly?”

“Volchonok.”

The Wolf Cub.

The cigar snaps in my fingers.

“You’re fucking kidding,” I say, honestly hoping that’s the case. He’s either that or insane, and I’d hate to lock someone who’s like a brother to me in a padded room.

Rhysand’s unflinching gaze doesn’t change, but his tone morphs from that of my friend to my boss. “You will marry her, Cassian.”

“She’s a fucking Russian,” I spit, not understanding. That should be reason enough for him to be joking.

In our world, being Russian is a crime similar to stabbing the Pope.

We’ve been at war over New York with them ever since they decided to try and get a stronghold on the east coast, and I’ve killed more of them than I can fucking count. Now I’m marrying one?

“Yes, she is, and so is her father, Alexei Olov.” Aka the Bratva Boss responsible for blowing up half of St. Petersburg last year when the local police refused to buy his weapons. “You will marry her, move to New York full time, and run the city with her by your side.”

“Why? Two or three more years, and we’ll have the city anyway.” Every day the Russians get weaker, and I’ve been responsible for pushing them out of my city block by block.

So there has to be a reason we’re suddenly okay with the enemy.

Rhysand sighs. “It was his idea, not mine. Orlov has agreed to sell our coke in Moscow and Seattle instead of his usual dealer and will supply us all the weapons we need for five years. There will also be no more midnight raids, bullshit arrests on bullshit charges, or missing shipments. He’s offering you a dowry, too.”

I don’t need his money, but the old fashioned term makes me laugh.

“Yeah? And how much does he think his wolf cub is worth?”

His lips twitch. “Ten million.”

“She must be a real pain in the ass, then, if he’s going to pay me that much to take her,” I chuckle.

Not that ten million dollars is anything but pocket change for the man. Orlov may be losing the fight in New York, but the bastard is richer than sin.

Selling arms to half of the entire world will do that to a person.

“I hear she’s beautiful,” he says, trying to tempt me to not fight him.

“Then you marry her,” I shoot back, not ready to give up the argument.

“I don’t feel like it.” Fucking typical. Rhysand sighs. “You and I both know we can work this deal to our advantage, so what will make you say yes?”

He could order to me to say yes and I’d have to, but he hates enforcing that kind of authority with me.

So I think it over, make a show of lighting a new cigar. “I want Sera.”

It’s a burlesque club in New York I’ve always been a little envious of, owned by Orlov and operated by his men. I’d tried to buy it a few years back but hadn’t had enough leverage on the Russian to strongarm him into selling.

Now I do.

Rhysand--the only one who knows about my failed attempt to buy the place--nods and tells me he’ll make it happen.

“When’s all this happening, anyway?”

He looks like he might laugh. “Wedding is in a month, but she’s flying in tomorrow night.”

A quick laugh forces its way out of me. Also typical of him to give me absolutely no time to change my mind.

Well, I have a month. That’s already longer than any relationship I’ve ever had.

Sighing, I stand and shake his hand, cementing the deal before I can even lament the loss of my bachelorhood.

~Nesta~

“Chto sluchilos?”

I slide my gaze to my father, because seriously, that’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard.

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Everything.

“Nichego,” I lie, assuring him for what feels like the tenth time as I look out the window. The plane picks up speed and lifts off, taking me towards an uncertain future, an uncertain place.

I might have told him nothing’s wrong, but inside, I’m screaming.

Three days ago, I woke up to find a marriage contract on the pillow beside me. There was a blank space where my name had been typed and a pen waiting for me to remedy that.

I still haven’t.

I’m not signing anything until I meet this... Cassian.

God, what an Italian name.

An image springs to mind, one of a slumped-over, hairy-chest beast with slicked back hair and a gold chain.

I know it’s stereotypical and hopefully incorrect, but I’ve never been to Italy and Alexei strictly forbids me watching movies that portray Italians as anything except revolting.

But looks aside, there’s one thing I don’t need to guess to know.

My future husband will be like all the other men in my life: controlling.

Men in the world I live in take what they want, don’t ask for permission, and feel like they’re entitled to anything and everything. I’ve dealt with it my entire life, so it’s more amusing than anything at this point.

I guess I’m a bit non-traditional in that sense, considering most of the women around me have no problems taking orders from their fathers or husbands. But Alexei and I figured out pretty early in life that wasn’t going to work for me.

As he frequently likes to tell me, I started telling him to fuck off when I was five.

What did he expect? All the kids I hung out with were the opposite sex and at least five years older than me, so my vocabulary and mannerisms became pretty... colorful early on.

Regardless, I’m just not looking forward to having to deal with yet another man who thinks he can control me.

“Ty vresh',” Alexei accuses, lips twitching. You’re lying.

“Konechno.” Of course.

Of course I’m upset, but I understand what’s happening. I might have found out about it three days ago, but I’ve known it was coming for far longer.

As the only child of the great Alexei Orlov, Wolf of Moscow and Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, I’ve been told my entire life that I will one day be used as a pawn to gain more power.

It would--should--piss me off, but I’ve also been told I’m to one day take my father’s place and run his company.

So by gaining more power for him, I’m also doing the same for myself.

Not that I really give a shit about that kind of thing. I started officially working for Alexei years ago, and I already have enough money saved to never have to work again.

But in the Bratva, there’s no getting out. I was put in this world by birth, and the only thing that will take me out is death.

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not a typical business woman.

My father is an arms-dealer.

A less than legal one, if you believe the heinous lies the media spreads about him.

He sells weapons to governments, private armies, and whoever the fuck else has the money to buy.

He’s also built himself a shipping empire to haul said weapons around the globe, runs the drugs and prostitute rings in Moscow, and has enough real estate to rival most small countries.

It probably sounds like I don’t care, and that’s because I don’t.

I like what I do in the sense that I have a mind for business. I went to business school and graduated at the top of my class, and I enjoy running the clubs and hotels I have. Trained by Alexei himself, I’m ruthless in negotiations, enough so that people started calling me the Wolf Cub by the time I was twenty.

But despite being good at it, I’m not particularly fond of the aspect most people think of when they picture my career in the Bratva. I detest drugs, have never hired a prostitute, and don’t really enjoy selling arms to bad people.

The alleyway meetups, the broken bones and bullet holes, and the blown up houses are all a little tiring to me.

Sure, it sounds exciting. And for a while, it was. I used to lose myself in the chaos, used to enjoy coming home with busted knuckles. But I honestly just got tired of it.

Right now, I don’t have to deal with it as much because Alexei’s still alive. But when he dies and I officially take over the family business, I’ll have to be more involved. Even if the thought makes me want to sigh.

I pull out my laptop and look over the financial report for Sera, my newest club in New York. As predicted, everything’s running smoothly.

I turn the laptop around to show my father, grinning when he pulls out his reading glasses and leans closer.

“Starik,” I tease. Old man.

He flicks my forehead, then reads the report and nods. Then he turns to his phone, probably playing Angry Birds or some shit, and leaves me to work.

The plane ride goes by quickly, and by the time we’ve landed in Chicago, I’ve gotten ahead on my schedule for next week, slept, and changed into what I’ve chosen as the “meeting my future husband” dress.

It’s simple and sleek, the black material clinging to my curves without being obscene. It’s long enough to hide the holster on my thigh, not that I feel in any danger with four personal guards stationed near me at all times.

My heels click as I make my way down the plane stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting sedan, and once my luggage and belongings are unloaded, we head to the Italian Capo’s house.

We’re meeting here, finalizing the contract, and then Cassian and I are flying to New York.

My new home.

“Try to look happy,” Alexei tells me, his heavily accented English almost ridiculous to hear. He speaks English only when he’s in the states, and considering he hasn’t come here since I graduated B school two years ago, he’s a little out of practice.

“I’m ecstatic,” I say, intentionally using a word I know he doesn’t understand.

His eyes narrow, because it isn’t the first time I’ve used this trick, but he doesn’t call me out on it. We continue to ride in ecstatic silence, eventually pulling up in front of the Capo’s... house.

It’s almost obscene to call it that, considering it’s fucking huge. Like obnoxiously huge.

I heave a sigh, step out of the car, and take in my surroundings. The neighborhood’s quiet, likely filled with friends of the Cosa Nostra too scared to make any noise.

A butler--seriously, a butler--opens the door and welcomes us inside, and as soon as I step in, I have to repress the urge to roll my eyes.

The amount of dirty money in the air is suffocating. It drips off the vaulted ceilings, down the artwork on the walls, across the marble floors. It’s in the little details of the crystal chandeliers and the mahogany staircase.

Ridiculous.

One look at Alexei’s disgusted face says he’s thinking the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re rich. Grossly so. Alexei could have ten houses just like this, if he wanted them.

But he doesn’t. He owns property all over the world, but most of it is commercial or apartment complexes--property that makes him money, in other words. This, however, is a massive waste of capital.

The butler leads us further through the house and into an office where four men wait.

One is immediately identifiable as their lawyer, his over-priced cologne making me have to resist the urge to sneeze. The humongous man in the corner is hired muscle, if the boxy shape of the guns under his jacket is any indication.

The man behind the desk is obviously in charge, so I’m guessing he’s the Capo. Rhysand or Rhyland or something weird like that. He takes me in silently, bright eyes not seeming to miss any details.

That leaves the man leaning against the desk to be Cassian Azara.

My fiancé.

Our eyes meet, his golden gaze beautiful and wild, and I have to remember to keep my expression bored.

Because the stereotype, the horrible image I’d conjured up in my mind, couldn’t be further from the truth.

For one, he isn’t hunched-over. He stands tall, leaning a hip against his Capo’s desk with obvious confidence. But I see more than just self-assuredness in his eyes. He seems a little too rough around the edges, wild gaze almost like he’s daring someone to swing at him.

If the confidence didn’t already make him attractive, his looks sure as hell get the job done.

His hairs long and dark and curly, half of it pulled up in a rouge manner that clashes with the suit he’s filling. He has a few days’ stubble, too, like standing still long enough to shave just isn’t an option.

His shoulders are impossibly wide, narrowing down to trim hips and legs long enough to make him tower over everyone in the room.

His knuckles are tattooed and split open, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that tells me I was correct to assume he’s a fighter by nature.

Usually, that would be a deterrent for me, but there’s something about the way he’s dressed in a dark suit jacket and crisp white shirt while also looking so untamed that has me cocking my head to study him some more.

He studies me, too, beautiful eyes taking in the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes offset by pale skin. He looks at the dress like he can see everything underneath, and I have the strangest urge to blush. Jesus, he’s toxic.

He’s attractive, is what I’m getting at.

Which is not what I had planned on, considering I’d been trying to think of a plan on how to not sleep with him, but suddenly that’s all my mind can focus on.

His lips twitch like he knows what I’m thinking, and I realize we’ve just been standing here staring at each other for a bit too long.

So I turn back to Alexei and shrug like I’ve seen what my future husband has to offer and aren’t impressed in the slightest.

I toss the marriage contract on the desk, grab the Capo’s fancy little fountain pen out of his hand, and sign my name on the blank above my name.

Cassian watches, but I ignore him entirely until the ink has dried. Then I look up at him through my lashes and wink, turn on my heel, and leave the room.

~Cassian~

I think I’m in love.

Fuck.

She hasn’t said a single goddamn word, but the way she looked at me has me feeling itchy all over, anticipation and nerves rolling through me. I feel like I feel before I fight or something exciting happens.

Like I’m primed and ready and need it to happen now.

Nesta Orlov, my bride to be, is nothing like I expected.

I was fully braced for some meek little woman, similar to most of my friends’ wives, to come in and smile and say hello.

But nope. Nesta didn’t smile; she came in like she was walking onto a battlefield.

And she didn’t smile. She looked me over, clinical blue gaze noticing too much, and left me feeling winded. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her made me hot.

She also didn’t say hello.

Just signed the contract and left, like this was nothing more to her than a boring business deal. I mean, that’s what it is, but... I don’t know, I expected more of a reaction.

I’ve heard from some Underbosses that their wives cried or raged when they were forced to sign, but shit if that were the case with Nesta. She honest to God looked like she didn’t care.

Alexei, on the other hand, does look a little pissed about the situation, but I couldn’t care less of the old man’s opinion. He’s signed the contract, so to me, he’s irrelevant. Regardless, he and Rhys proceed to iron out some of the details about the wedding and other shit I’m not paying attention to.

Then they shake hands, and the Russian warlord turns to leave.

He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me, and there’s amusement in his cold gaze as he mutters, “Udachi.” Good luck.

As soon as he’s gone, Roman and the lawyer follow, leaving me alone with Rhys.

He slides the contract to me, and I sign my name next to hers, making this shit official.

“This should be interesting,” he comments, vague as usual.

I sigh, because I have a feeling interesting isn’t going to cover it.

_____________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

Tags: @elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @masstrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #acosf countdown #acosf #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acosf fanfiction #a court of mist and fury

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

volleyball players!golcha + a supernatural twist

so casey (@thepixelelf) came up with this brilliant idea (original blurbs here - read them they’re so fun + will help you understand what’s going on in this post) but essentially this is golcha as a volleyball team EXCEPT they all have superpowers

and no this isn’t some saving the world type shit everyone at the school just happens to have some superpower so they’re just trying to navigate the hell that is high school while dealing with powers so CHAOS

anyway please enjoy these brief blurbs and reblog if you did, and again do not forget to check out the original post here because why not it’s FUN

pairing: golden child x gender neutral!reader

wc: 11.7k (total)

genre: fluff, a bit of angst in some parts, volleyball!au, superpowers!au

triggers: cursing

Volleyball!au Masterlist (casey + lina) | Golden Child Masterlist

daeyeol - golden tongue

daeyeol has a golden tongue which basically means he can be very, very persuasive with his spoken words when he wants to

like casey said it comes in handy when he’s arguing with the basketball team for gym time but in 99% of other situations daeyeol tends to... be very awkward and stilted in a way that isn’t characteristic of those with a golden tongue

the boys sometimes tease him about it because a tongue-tied golden tongue? that’s not supposed to exist

but he’s just afraid of accidentally manipulating people even though he really does have a pretty good grasp on his power :/ like sungyoon will try to remind him that but daeyeol’s still wary

on the court though he literally just exudes confidence. like daeyeol is GOOD at volleyball and he knows it

even if his teammates clown him they listen to him when he’s running drills/coaching because daeyeol knows his shit. he’s been playing volleyball for years at this point AND has an older brother who played as well he knows what he’s doing

he’s been playing the longest of all of golcha and it shows in games! he’s one of the best players if not the best

really the other boys do look up to him even if they show it in a roundabout way

(daeyeol complains about the lack of respect all the time but tbh he doesn’t really help his case when he’s soft for every single one of the boys)

side note: he has a bit of a special bond with bomin :) as in bomin clowns the everloving fuck out of him but he also always goes to daeyeol if he’s not feeling good and daeyeol is always there to listen it’s super sweet

(more on that in bomin’s part :D)

does interviews with the school newspaper after games and he’s just so different from normal because volleyball is one of the things besides academics and stuff that he’s confident in

as a side note he got voted most boyfriend material in one of the school newspaper polls because he looks perfect and is the sweetest (have you seen how he gets so soft with the boys in every video online? don’t argue with me) and it made its way into the yearbook

older brother and alumnus sungyeol clowns him every other day for it

daeyeol gets revenge by reenacting sungyeol’s worst volleyball fails and sending them to his friends

has a whole folder on his phone of reenactments at this point

anyway like i said daeyeol is a little awkward in everyday situations so enter you: confrontational + rash with a sharper tongue than is probably necessary and an affinity for changing temperatures

well. more like you can ratchet the temperature up at will. bringing it down is much harder

it’s useful when it’s winter and everyone’s freezing but the temperature also likes to creep higher when you get pissed off which is sometimes not nice when it’s like negative degrees outside and inside it’s like 100

the only way to cool the room when the second thing happens is to calm you the fuck down! or turn on the air conditioner

and the first is easier said than done

it’s not like it’s only unpleasant for other people though bc you’re not immune to the heat and also because you’re the one like. producing the heat?? your skin gets boiling hot to the touch if you’re upset enough and several times people have gotten fucking burns by touching your arm to try and calm you down

usually it’s fine bc you have a good grasp on your power when you’re calm but if someone says something offensive/stupid.... god help them

anyway even though daeyeol doesn’t like to use his power much he’s still one of the people that others go to when situations need defusing because they (mostly) respect him as an older and more mature person (i say mostly because the amount of disrespect he gets from his volleyball team on the daily... yeah let’s just trend #prayfordaeyeol)

and that’s how you meet! you’re yelling at someone for saying something fucking stupid and daeyeol walks in right when you’re threatening to hit said person if they don't shut up rn

daeyeol manages to calm the situation but not before everyone stupid enough to still be in the room is sweating buckets including him

this just... continues

like daeyeol becomes the go to for situations involving you specifically bc you respond better to him for some reason

and you get to know each other just from daeyeol walking in on you threatening to throw someone out of the window and saying no! nope :) no you’re not throwing anyone out of any window :) come on y/n let’s go :) while subtly dragging you out of the room

the thing is he listens to you. he actually listens to why you got pissed instead of just telling you to control your anger. like he does emphasize the fact that you need to control yourself because what if this happens around people without powers? but he listens and that helps more than anything really and you actually start getting better at controlling yourself

and somewhere along the way things just click between you two and you become friends. you like him bc he’s v kind if awkward and he’s the only person who’s never tried to calm you using golden tongue manipulation and he likes you bc you’re so outspoken and bold

then one day you get genuinely so upset about something someone said and daeyeol doesn’t care about your blistering hot skin he doesn’t care if you’re raising the temperature in the room he doesn’t even care if he gets burnt he just kisses you on the forehead softly and holds you close even as you’re overheating

which just drains the fight out of you and you kind of collapse on him and stay like that for a while

he then takes you out for cold drinks (because you’re still overheating a little) and kisses you over an iced americano and boom relationship

the other boys find you very fun to be around and marvel over your relationship bc you’re confident and loud meanwhile daeyeol is a bumbling mess when he isn’t using his power or he isn’t on the court

but it works ok it just does. don’t question it

(jangjun does once and even with his super strength he ended up lying on the court bc the element of surprise is the only thing that can really get him)

(and lucky for you you know exactly how to take advantage of that <3)

(daeyeol just thinks it’s hot + impressive and kisses you right after)

(bomin + 99 line gag but you threaten to give them the same treatment and they shut up)

sungyoon - telekinesis

so as casey said sungyoon comes from a long line of telekinetics except he’s not entirely sure why he’s even at this school because... he has never shown any manifestations of this power

not to his knowledge at least

i say this bc people have seen stuff twitch when sungyoon’s around, he just never notices and thus concludes that either people are fucking around with him and it never happened or it was just a coincidence

anyway he doesn’t really care much, like sure he sometimes gets insecure/unsure of himself in a school full of kids with superpowers

but like i said this school is just a safe haven for those born with powers, they’re not training or anything they just learn to control what they have

and since sungyoon doesn’t have much to control he’s doing fine as far as everyone is really concerned

it’s also kind of nice being the only normal one on the volleyball team like everyone else has wack-ass powers that fuck shit up but sungyoon is like the calm in the middle of the storm like hi yes i am also part of this team of idiots but at least i don’t break equipment or injure people inadvertently

for this reason some people think sungyoon is the only sane person on the team

they are wrong

sungyoon can and will go batshit insane at the first opportunity

he is also a massive tease and if anyone asks him to do anything he’ll make it a back and forth for like 5 minutes before deciding whether or not to actually do it

bomin: sungyoon can you help me get the mats

sungyoon: why

bomin: p l e a s e

repeat for at least five minutes and you now have a regular day to day conversation with sungyoon

but sungyoon really is passionate about volleyball okay, like he loves the sport so much

he used to get worked up about it so much that he’d over-practice and actually play worse :/

got over that with joochan/daeyeol’s help (he and daeyeol weren’t on good terms for a week or two though) and now they’re one happy dysfunctional family :)

if you bring up that time in sungyoon’s life you will be subjected to his death glare so maybe just... don’t

like even jangjun doesn’t talk about it and that’s saying something

anyway moving on

in terms of powers you’re the opposite of sungyoon. aka you have wack-ass telekinesis and you have no idea how to control it

which?? somehow sungyoon comes in handy with this

because despite not really having powers himself, he watched his sister learn to control her abilities and also listened in on his parents’ advice to her because most of the time controlling powers really just amounts to controlling emotions

aka why sungyoon is (for the most part) so calm and mature

when he’s not purposely being a little shit to golcha of course

but you and sungyoon are kinda... at a loss bc it’s not like you go absolutely off the walls batshit insane?? like you’re a relatively calm person and even though the powers do manifest when you’re feeling a strong emotional upsurge

other than that they’re just... seemingly random???

regardless of that sungyoon makes you start on breathing exercises n shit and you would honestly probably complain if you weren’t sick of your powers manifesting every five fucking seconds. like at this point you’ll try anything

cue long sessions after school in the gym of sungyoon practicing spikes while you sit in the corner controlling your breath to the beat of balls bouncing on the floor

sometimes a few of the other team members join in but more often than not it’s just you and sungyoon

as time passes, in between cleaning scuff marks off the floor and picking up balls that just have flown everywhere, you and sungyoon get closer

and somehow... you don’t know exactly what happened but your powers aren’t so out of wack anymore

sungyoon can’t completely explain it either but like? neither of you is going to complain

you kind of think it might have something to do with how sungyoon is just a calming presence. like when you talk with him and stuff you’re less likely to inadvertently make something move or whatever

it’s not just with sungyoon too - it kind of seems like if you’re focusing intently on something, then the mini episodes don’t happen

sungyoon hypothesizes you might be a little like youngtaek as in you need something to concentrate on because if you zone out shit happens

you maybe zone out less than he does but maybe it’s a more subtle thing with you than with him who knows

anyway

one day you two go to get coffee after leaving the gym together and sungyoon looks weirdly nervous and you ask if something’s up while praying you don’t send all the sugar packets flying everywhere

and then when you leave with your coffee he asks you out

like really. he asks you out. you can’t believe it

so the lid flies off your coffee cup and liquid splashes everywhere

now you have burns all over your hands from hot coffee and sungyoon is freaking the fuck out and luckily donghyun was just leaving school so he gets called over to take care of your burns

anyway after that sungyoon is still a flustered mess and you’re trying to tell him you’re fine, look all the redness is gone and also yeah sorry about that i’d love to go on a date with you

CUE SUNGYOON’S COFFEE CUP FLYING OUT OF HIS HANDS AND SPLATTERING ALL OVER THE GROUND

you swear it wasn’t you and sungyoon KNOWS he didn’t just drop it so the only conclusion left is that sungyoon did it

oh my god he actually has telekinesis!

(the rest of golcha: yeah let’s just pretend we HAVEN’T been saying this for literal years)

anyway let’s just say that between sungyoon confessing + figuring out he actually has telekinesis powers it was a very eventful day

golcha loves you but is also wary of whenever you’re around bc sungyoon tends to get v nervous and maybe the net starts lifting out of the ground if you surprise him with a kiss

but it’s fine! you’ve learned all of the techniques sungyoon taught you, now it’s just time for him to get a taste of that too :)

and sungyoon would probably bitch and moan if it was with any other person but it’s more time to spend with you so is he really gonna complain?

no <3

jangjun - super strength

ah yes. resident ‘i’m doing my best to control my powers but sometimes i get too excited and whoops now there’s a hole in the gym floor’

once again credits to casey for that idea (she actually wrote a drabble for it which you can find here)

he’s gotten better at controlling his powers but uh sometimes excitement gets the better of him all right

look he’s trying!! ok!! he really is

especially when it comes to volleyball - he’s really serious, does his absolute best not to cause any damage to the gym because one time he cracked the wood floors and let’s just say admin was not happy

worst day of jangjun’s life trying to explain that shit to the principal

so yeah he’s doing a lot better now with controlling his power

but at the same time let’s not ignore half the reason why there are far fewer accidents than before - you

you and jangjun meet like halfway through your first year of school during gym class when jangjun hits a ball a little (a lot) too hard and it ends up knocking you the fuck out

a healed concussion + a million apologies later, you and jangjun are laughing your heads off in the clinic with the nurse screwing her eyes up in confusion like?? this boy just smashed a volleyball into your head and now you’re laughing with him wtf

but jangjun’s so funny and friendly that it’s hard not to become his friend so after that you two are essentially inseparable

so when jangjun decides to play for the volleyball team you sign up to be team manager

(you also help him practice and do you best to keep his power in check)

which works out! because you’re responsible and organized but most importantly you have power over air

and given enough warning (which, as you gain more experience, doesn’t have to be a lot), you can manipulate the air to stop some of jangjun’s more aggressive serves from hitting the ground too fast and causing major damage to the newly-renovated floors

daeyeol + the coach thank every higher being for your existence at each practice

youngtaek + joochan started a cult in your name after you saved both of them from one of jangjun’s spikes hitting them in the head

yeah let’s just say golcha is v thankful jangjun gave you that concussion back in first year

ANYWAY

one day you’re picking up some volleyballs that are lying around while the boys play a practice match in the middle of the gym

and because your back is to the fucking court. you don’t get any warning except a few sharp screams before a ball just motherfucking smashes against the back of your head and knocks you the fuck out for the second time in your life

you come to on the ground with donghyun passing his hands over your throbbing head

and the first thing you do when the pain is gone is look up and ask where jangjun is

half the team has disappeared from the gym but donghyun tells you he had a major mental breakdown when he saw you unconscious on the floor and just ran out. the others are already trying to find him but you don’t care you just run out to try and find wherever the fuck your best friend is

you find him crouched in the corner of a stairwell with his head in his hands and you’re like jangjun what’s wrong oh my god are you okay?

and he just looks up like oh my god you’re okay. you’re okay right?

you nod like yeah?? donghyun worked his magic of course i’m fine now but what’s up with you? were you crying?

he just clams up then which obviously confirms your suspicions and you’re like dude... why were you crying. i’m really fine

and then he explodes like - i fucking hate my power sometimes i hate that i can’t control it i hate that i accidentally break people or hurt people when i don’t mean to and it’s even worse when it’s people I care about like fuck y/n why can’t i just have a power that doesn’t cause all this stupid shit -

so you just lash out with a gust of wind and shake the railing on the stairwell

jangjun’s like why did you do that

and you say every power has a destructive side. i can hurt people on accident. if i got really riled up i could slam someone against a wall and knock them out the same way you did with me. it’s happened before

jangjun flinches but you just step closer like jangjun. you’re doing fine. your power is cool as fuck. i admire the control you have over it and no don’t argue, i’ve watched you over the past few years and do you know how much you’ve improved?

it ends up with you hugging jangjun and despite all his muscle he just collapses like a rag doll in your arms and on impulse you kiss his forehead like it’s ok, i’m fine, you’re fine. we’re all fine

and that little impulse kiss changes everything. even though neither of you really says anything explicit at first, something shifts between you and even though jangjun was touchy before, now you hold hands between classes and hug before practice and golcha is just like... /eyes emoji/

jangjun brings it up one weekend when you two are trying (key word: trying) to study and you just kind of shrug and ask what do you really want to be? labels or nah? bc honestly you’re happy as long as he’s around

which makes jangjun’s heart flutter and maybe the pen in his hand explodes all over his notes (not like they were legible anyway, you just promise to lend him yours) and voila! you’re dating

it’s super cute but also super loud

like jangjun will yell across the court like HEY WATCH ME ROLL AROUND ON THIS VOLLEYBALL Y/N (or whatever the fuck he was doing in the breathe mv behind) and you yell back like FUCK IT U P JANGJUN!!!

coach maybe praises your existence a little less now but daeyeol just reminds him that you’ve saved every member on this team + him at least once by now and the cult revives

as your bf jangjun strong-arms (literally) youngtaek/joochan out of the way as the head of the cult now

you two are very supportive and very loud in your support

you’re essentially each other’s professional hype-people and like to celebrate with kisses while everyone else gags

it’s disgustingly cute

someone always yells something about pda and then jangjun just kisses you harder

cue the boys screaming and you laughing and an unamused (he’s amused he’s just trying not to show it) daeyeol

coach is the only one who’s really unamused but at some point he just gives up because jangstar does what he wants as long as you’re fine with it

/shrugging emoji/

youngtaek - pyrokinesis

youngtaek has power over fire but it’s not really so much that he can control fire and more like he just... zones out and oops his notes are burning

it’s usually best to keep him and daeyeol’s s/o in separate rooms because fire + ratcheting up the temperature does not equal a good time

like casey said when he’s focused it’s all cool and he has a decent measure of control over his power but when his eyes go dazed and he’s staring into the distance then you better pray the room has a bucket of water or a fire extinguisher nearby

it isn’t usually a problem because this is a school for kids with powers and youngtaek isn’t the only pyrokinetic here but it is a hassle when sometimes youngtaek zones out on the court and hits the ball and suddenly jangjun’s screaming because he got hit by a volleyball on fire and now his uniform is on fire and everything is on fire

oops

but anyway with anything that isn’t a) volleyball or b) music youngtaek has less than half the attention span of a goldfish which means he may or may not be lagging behind in several classes

and it isn’t enough for him to be in danger of failing just yet but his teachers are like youngtaek i think you might need a tutor if you want to do more than just pass the final

he also needs better grades if he wants to keep playing volleyball so he decides to find a tutor

so he asks daeyeol about it bc despite his dyslexia daeyeol is a pretty good student but he’s busy as an upperclassman and all so he refers youngtaek to you!

you have the power to memorize anything you put your mind to. like if you really wanted to you could memorize an entire map of the city or its skyline but you just don't care enough to do that

only things you care about are school + your hobbies + your friends/family

anyway you meet up with youngtaek and from the start it’s kind of a mess because he zones out in the middle of you teaching him math and somehow sets the table on fire

after that you make sure to keep a bottle of water nearby (it comes in handy several times)

but despite the slightly disastrous first meeting you take a liking to youngtaek because beyond everything he’s genuine and honest and just a really good person regardless of the fact that he’s a little fire-happy

so tutoring sessions start ending with walking each other to the bus stop or getting a drink together or whatever and it’s really nice and sweet, youngtaek’s happy to be doing better in his classes bc you’re so patient and a really good teacher

and one day he blurts out that when he heard about your power he wasn’t sure you’d be a good teacher because everything seems to come easily to you

then he covers his mouth because holy hell he wasn’t supposed to say that youngtaek come ON

you calmly put out the little fire on the side of the desk before telling him it’s fine, you get that a lot but really being able to memorize things isn’t as helpful as people seem to think

like sure you can memorize the fact that 2+2=4 but if you don’t understand addition as a concept then you won’t be able to do 5+5=10 or something like that

and you can’t exactly just memorize concepts. so with memorization comes a lot of hard work in trying to understand it all

and from this little conversation youngtaek comes out with so much more respect for you?? like god damn he now sees just how hard you work for everything you care about and youngtaek likes that. he likes it a lot

so yeah both of you have budding feelings at this point but because i'm the author i get to say you’re idiots in love so you don’t say shit

until after finals you and youngtaek go to a party daeyeol’s hosting and you both get tipsy-drunk-ish and by the end of the night youngtaek’s face is buried in your shoulder and before he passes out fully he mumbles that he likes you so much it doesn’t make sense

and you’re drunk too so all you do is kiss his forehead and fall asleep

unluckily for you a mostly sober kim donghyun got a video of all that so when you both wake up a couple hours later it’s to several still-awake members of the volleyball team + your friends all up in your faces like oh my god they’re in LOVE

youngtaek wakes up with all the noise and just blinks sleepily and you kinda pat his head and tell him to go back to sleep while giving everyone else death glares like SHUT THE FUCK UP SO HE CAN SLEEP

but you don’t know about the video >:)

so one of the sober boys ends up bringing you two home and when you wake up the next morning donghyun has added you both to a group chat and sent the video there

you scream into your pillow

youngtaek screams into his pillow

and you both proceed to do absolutely nothing about it until joochan locks the two of you in one of the music rooms and slides a copy of the song youngtaek wrote about you under the door

you get to the paper before youngtaek can burn it and it’s messy it’s awkward it’s hilarious but you two end up together by the end of the day so it worked... kinda?

your presence helps youngtaek a lot by giving him something more to focus on throughout the day and subsequently not set everything on fire

though mind reader bomin complains because he used to zero in on youngtaek’s mind when things got too much since quote unquote ‘there’s not much going on up there’ (credits to casey + fact in star) but now if youngtaek’s brain isn’t playing the music from the mii channel it’s thinking about you which isn’t ideal

youngtaek may or may not have attacked bomin after that

you may or may not have had to pull him away when bomin’s shirt started smoking

but it’s cool the smoking goes away when you kiss his forehead and youngtaek just beams like the entire sun

seungmin - foresight

like casey said seungmin has foresight and it’s anything but useful

he’ll either get glimpses of dumb unimportant shit like haha the day’s lunch includes rice or visions of stuff he can’t avoid like hey youngtaek’s going to trip on air oh oops he just did aaand now his shirt is on fire

honestly if he was going to have foresight he could at least like?? predict stocks or some shit?? why the fuck does it MATTER if youngtaek’s about to fall if seungmin can’t even help him

not like he’d help even if he could because seungmin isn’t an angel and youngtaek falling is funny but still it’s the principle of the goddamn matter

sometimes he gets glimpses of whether or not golcha will win their volleyball matches but like casey said he doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t want to ruin the team spirit before the game’s even over

plus who said the future was fixed in stone? like none of seungmin’s momentary glimpses have been wrong yet but there’s always a chance... right?

seungmin isn’t going to discount that possibility yet at least

but he didn’t always think that way - you’re actually the one who opened him up to that point of view

you’re an ordinary person with no powers or anything but you work part-time at the juice bar across the street from his school and sometimes golcha will go there after practice to get something to drink

and you have a special soft spot for seungmin because he’s the first of the group who started frequenting the shop

and on that first ever visit he helped catch you when you slipped bringing a tray of drinks to a few people sitting in the corner

even though you both ended up on the floor covered in juice he still managed to break your fall enough that none of the glasses broke and while giving him his drink you kind of joked that it was like he knew what was going to happen before it did

which... is not exactly false

seungmin was waiting for his drink when he got a little glimpse of you falling and him helping catch you but then it all happened before he could even process the vision so like yeah he did see it but not soon enough to prevent anything

like usual

anyway you promise seungmin a free drink the next time he comes in when you’re on shift and so he does come in though he insists you don’t have to give him his drink for free

you just say well buy me a drink then. two for one

(listen he’s cute and he broke your fall and he seems polite. who’s gonna sue you for being a little flirty)

and so a beautiful relationship is born :)

seungmin really likes you a lot like so much?? he used to laugh at youngtaek for being so whipped for his partner but now he thinks he kind of understands it

the one thing to worry about is the fact that you don’t have powers and he does but it’s not that big of an issue really. like foresight is one of the abilities that doesn’t really manifest itself physically beyond maybe having a bit of reaction time? but considering his foresight is literally useless even that’s debatable

well actually there’s another thing to worry about: the boys finding out he has an s/o and teasing him to high hell

which they do while also demanding free drinks as seungmin’s friends

on days when you’re feeling nice you’ll do it but money always appears in the tip jar that pays for the free drinks

(it’s daeyeol. he feels bad)

anyway you don’t know about the foresight/powers thing until daeyeol calls you one night to pick seungmin up from a party one night and on the way home he stops you from almost getting run into by a speeding car

WHILE TIPSY/DRUNK

once you’ve recovered you ask him how he reacted so fast and he just kind of tipsily smiles and says ‘i saw it was going to happen’

you don’t ask him anything then because he’s drunk and sleepy so you just drive him home but the entire time you’re thinking about all the little things that have just... seemed questionable during the time you’ve known seungmin

and it’s weird as fuck but at the same time you can’t figure out any other explanation? because once is normal, twice could be a coincidence, but upwards of ten incidents is not right

it feels like you’re bella confronting edward about being a stupid vampire (no i never read twilight and i'm not sorry about it) but a couple of weeks later you ask him

he doesn’t actually remember the drive back home that night because he was kind of too wasted but he definitely does remember the other incidents including when you two met skdjghs

he spills after a few minutes of awkward silence and begs you not to tell which of course you promise to because why the fuck would you not? if the truth got leaked that would be disastrous and it’s not like you’re scared or anything, seungmin’s (mostly) harmless even if some of the other abilities like youngtaek + fire or jangjun + strength give you pause

but you get to talking about his power of foresight and seungmin kind of shrugs at one point while saying that he doesn’t know why he gets glimpses, it’s all inevitable anyway so what’s the point

and you just say maybe it isn’t that way. maybe he’s seeing one future possibility, maybe even the most likely one, but that doesn’t mean it’s the only one set in stone right?

seungmin loves you a lot for that. like so much. it’s a new perspective and it gives him more hope than he used to have and you just KNOW the conversation ends in kisses and cuddles

because while he’s not going to actively try and prevent what’s about to happen if it’s bad (like he can’t exactly influence the outcome of a volleyball match beyond just doing his best - plus, his foresight doesn’t give him enough time to really react to most things), it gives him some hope that even if his foresight says something will turn out bad, there’s a chance it might turn out well :)

anyway seungmin pocket boy you two fit right into each other when you hug which results in the other boys cooing but seungmin’s strong even if he’s small so they get a few new bruises that donghyun just refuses to heal

we love evil donghyun

you also go to their volleyball matches and seungmin trusts you enough to tell you what glimpses he got of the game but you always remind him the future may not be set in stone and regardless of what he sees you always cheer him on just as loudly

all the boys come piling into the juice bar after games and you smile and give seungmin a free drink while everyone else has to pay

they decry favoritism but you just shrug and kiss seungmin over the counter while they scream

dramatic assholes

jaehyun - gravity manipulation

so like casey said jaehyun can manipulate the gravity of objects, either send them floating up in the air or slamming down on the round

which sucks if the object in question is a volleyball and it comes pounding down on his toes when he isn’t paying attention

this happened at the first ever volleyball practice he attended and the boys (read: jibeom) have yet to let it fucking go

his husky voice doesn’t help because when he complains jibeom the boys just imitate his voice which derails the entire practice and now coach + daeyeol + team manager who’s jangjun’s s/o are all lying facedown on the ground like when will this madness end

never. the answer is never

but it’s ok jaehyun gets his revenge when they’re all practicing and he sends jibeom’s ball flying up into the air and refuses to let it come down and when he does the ball drops right on jibeom’s head and whoops look who’s got a concussion hey donghyun can you fix this

jaehyun is also one of the few occasional lifesavers (literally) besides team manager + donghyun because given enough warning, he can manipulate the gravity on one of jangjun’s maybe too strong serves and make it come down more softly than it would’ve otherwise

the problem is he isn’t super adept with his power

more experienced students will be able to manipulate gravity very subtly, but jaehyun more or less has three settings - floating, slamming down, and very occasionally something in between

which isn’t exactly ideal but jaehyun’s working on it, it’s fine, he’s not too pressed about it

anyway you’re a student at the school for students with superpowers in the next city over and you play basketball

you don’t know jaehyun but he sure as hell knows you because even though he stopped playing basketball a few years ago to focus on volleyball, he still loves the sport and he happens to think you’re one of the best players he’s ever see

also you’re really cute

jaehyun goes to every single basketball game that’s against your school just to watch you play

he doesn’t really do much other than watch because a) he’s so focused on your performance that he doesn’t register much else and b) everyone would clown him for cheering your team on skdjgskjg

also jaehyun’s just shy. like really shy you couldn’t catch him approaching you/showing interest towards you unless someone forced it out of him

which is what his lovely friends from 99 line decide to do

they obviously know about his crush like joochan was with him the first time jaehyun went to watch a basketball game against your school so he SAW the heart eyes

he took a picture and sent it to jibeom who sent it to donghyun and now it’s the profile picture for their group chat dedicated to making sure jaehyun asks you out

jaehyun has no knowledge of this group chat because he’s oblivious

anyway one day after a game they’re in the parking lot bc jaehyun’s driving this time and jaehyun is babbling about oh my god y/n was so great this time they’re literally so good at basketball holy shit?? and while he’s talking he doesn’t notice jibeom/joochan/donghyun like. subtly pushing him closer and closer to your team who’s just waiting around the bus you’ll take to get back to your school

and only when you look up does jaehyun realize he’s now close enough for you to have heard literally everything he just said in the past minute or so

cue the awkward crow noises as you and jaehyun just stare at each other

suddenly the backpack in jaehyun’s hand just drops onto his foot and if it weren’t for the steel-toed sneakers he’s gotten in the habit of wearing then he’d probably have a broken foot

as such he kind of lets out a quiet dying screech (it HURTS) and now jibeom/donghyun/joochan are dying like three feet away meanwhile your friends are screaming into their hands like Y/N IT’S A CUTE BOY YOU LIKE CUTE BOYS TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY YOU IDIOT

and when nothing happens for five seconds beyond jaehyun’s ears turning tomato red joochan steps forward and is like hello my friend here is whipped for you so if you’re comfortable would you please give him your number because he’s been dying for it since like. last year when we saw you play for the first time

jaehyun nearly launches himself at joochan like SHUT UP DUDE but then you’re handing over your phone while looking away because fuck jaehyun’s really cute and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him okay??

(who wouldn’t though that’s the real question)

anyway the two cities aren’t too big so it’s not that hard for you and jaehyun to meet up for coffee at some point (which jaehyun surprisingly gets the courage to initiate - he reasons it as he’s the one who was interested first so he kind of has to be the one to do it but that doesn’t mean he’s screaming throughout the entire text conversation) and after a semi-awkward first interaction you two surprisingly hit it off and after a few weeks you’re dating

you’re the ultimate athletic couple like jaehyun does volleyball and you do basketball and sometimes you play each other in the park or jaehyun starts teaching you how to play volleyball and it’s really cute

over the summer your friend group + golcha goes to the beach to hang out and jaehyun sees firsthand how much you’ve improved at volleyball

i didn’t mention it earlier but your power is water manipulation which not only comes in handy with putting out youngtaek’s inadvertent flames but also is very useful in splashing your friends + golcha all at once at the beach when no one else is looking

of course everyone just piles on you and sends you flailing into the ocean and maybe you choke on seawater because you’re laughing so hard but jaehyun pulls you out and your first kiss tastes like salty ocean and even with the rest of your friends + golcha screaming it’s perfect

water manipulation also helps when they dump you both into the ocean and you just kinda make a bubble where it’s deep enough and kiss jaehyun there (yeah pjo the last olympian vibes deal with it)

daeyeol gets worried when you don’t come up and then you surface a second later in his face and he screams it’s glorious

you use your power to strip away your sweat after basketball practice and jaehyun begs you to do it for him too after volleyball practice when you’re there which of course you do because you’re a nice s/o

when he gets a little better at the subtleties of his power jaehyun likes to lift you up using his gravity manipulation and spin you around it’s really cute

you show up to jaehyun’s volleyball games against your school to cheer him on despite the fact that one of your friends is on your school’s volleyball team skdjgshkd (and maybe jaehyun accidentally drops the volleyball HARD on his foot the first time you scream his name)

jaehyun starts doing the same when it comes to your basketball games he is no longer shy about screaming your name from his school’s side of the bleachers :)

his friends call him a traitor but jaehyun doesn’t really care because he’s the one who gets to kiss you after your games so who’s the real winner here?

him obviously

jibeom - invisibility

casey i think this blurb was my favorite, it’s so fucking funny and literally so jibeom

so like casey said jibeom can turn invisible which is really fun for him and a nightmare for everyone else because he’ll just sneak up on people and be like BOO

if you have a weak heart you better stay vigilant

but there are also issues because like casey came up with sometimes jibeom accidentally turns invisible during a fucking game and gets confused as to why no one’s serving to him until one of his teammates or the coach on the sidelines notices he’s gone and is like JIBEOM YOU’RE FUCKING INVISIBLE

it’s fine the school only ever plays sports against other supernatural schools to avoid spreading the secret about superpowers to regular humans so people are used to this kind of shit but it’s embarrassing for jibeom skdjgshjg

he’ll try to put his ability to his advantage by turning invisible when he’s supposed to be running laps/doing drills and hoping daeyeol/coach/team manager don’t notice

at this point though they always do and then it’s another five laps/set of drills for him

big sad

anyway jibeom’s just living his invisible life you know being a little shit with everyone

mocking jaehyun’s voice and turning invisible when jaehyun tries to swipe at him

sneaking up behind his friends and scaring them even if it means he gets decked in the face (that’s one thing he won’t repeat with jangjun. like the dude doesn’t get scared easily but if he gets startled... the super strength is not a blessing for jibeom if he doesn’t move fast enough)

and then you transfer to the school

so you used to go to the school jaehyun’s parter goes to but your family moved or smth so now you’re here and jaehyun’s the only person you even vaguely know so you kinda stick around and become friends

and of course jaehyun introduces you to the rest of golcha

now jibeom is in the gym. invisible okay. waiting for jaehyun to show up so he can do his daily scare-jaehyun-because-i’m-a-little-shit routine

then you walk into the gym with jaehyun and the first thing you fucking say is there are thirteen people in this room (10 golcha members + you + team manager + coach) but i only see twelve so who’s the invisible one walking up right behind jaehyun

jaehyun fucking screams, a whole crate of volleyballs goes tumbling to the floor because gravity manipulation + jaehyun getting scared go hand in hand, everything is in chaos, youngtaek+joochan+jangjun are crying of laughter at jaehyun’s reaction, and jibeom is now standing visible behind jaehyun wide-eyed and surprised because how the fuck did you know

turns out your power is being able to sense/locate invisible things including invisible jibeoms so the rest of golcha + manager + coach think you’re a lifesaver because finally someone can find jibeom whenever he disappears

wrong

like yeah if jibeom has disappeared in the middle of practice you’ll yell and be like KIM JIBEOM GET YOUR ASS OUT AND PRACTICE YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT

is it a surprise that you and daeyeol’s partner hit it off in less than five seconds

but if jibeom’s disappearing just to be a little shit you’ll purposely point people in the wrong direction like you’ll reassure youngtaek that oh no jibeom’s over there trying to scare seungmin and then jibeom appears right behind youngtaek and now both of you are cackling on the floor and youngtaek is about to set your backpacks on fire

you may have joined the school late but now you are an honorary 99 line member regardless of what year you were actually born in i don’t care they don’t care they’re just happy to have another ball of chaos to join their ranks

coach considers banning you from the gym but daeyeol reminds him that if he wants to ban you he’ll have to ban everyone else who comes in to visit and cause chaos aka his partner and you know daeyeol needs his hugs before practice so that isn’t going to happen

so you get to stay

most of the time it’s fine like you just sit in the bleachers and do homework while occasionally yelling at jibeom or other slackers, it’s only really during breaks that you act up

so anyway even though you’re an honorary 99 line member you spend most of your time with jibeom pulling dumb tricks or being unintentionally funny as fuck

therefore it is only logical that the rest of 99 line starts pushing you two together

fucking meddling brats

they do all the normal stupid shit like announcing outings to malls and ditching you two alone, deciding to go to the movies and ditching you two alone, you see the idea

look they’ve got pea brains they can’t come up with much

but get this: you and jibeom are already dating

yeah. you both started fucking dating a few months after meeting because you were both having a late night study session at your house and your tongues were loose with exhaustion and you may or may not have said some stuff you weren’t planning to

you almost kissed but then you were like it’s almost midnight and we haven’t brushed our teeth so maybe not tonight

it’s fine jibeom got a kiss the next day (the whole day he acted like he wasn’t waiting for it at all and you teased him for that before finally leaning in)

you haven’t kept your relationship secret out of shame or embarrassment or anything you both just kinda want to see how far 99 line + rest of golcha will go to get you two together. plus it’s nice when they buy you movie theater tickets when they just plan to ditch so you don’t have to pay for the date you end up having

it’s really fucking funny the more frustrated they get so you and jibeom don’t let up until daeyeol catches you two kissing just outside the locker room after you thought everyone left (NOTHING FUCKING NASTY OKAY THIS IS A SFW PLACE AND BEYOND THAT - NO ONE HERE IS GOING TO DO A N Y T H I NG OUTSIDE A L O C K E R R O O M)

shit goes down in the volleyball group chat that night but you and jibeom are just sitting together on his couch laughing at everything

99 line definitely holds a grudge

daeyeol won’t shut up about how he needs to clean his eyes out with bleach (as if he doesn’t want to kiss his partner every five seconds jfc)

coach just despairs over the chaos you two bring

but you and jibeom don’t care :)

side note you know what’d be fun - if you don’t have the slightest fashion sense like jibeom and you two become known for wearing stripes + whatever your favorite design happens to be all the damn time

idk i just think it’d be funny to watch everyone trying to clown you but literally neither of you giving a shit

donghyun - healing

so like casey said donghyun has healing abilities

and first and foremost he would like to say he’s tired of healing the injuries these idiots get every practice

i mean he’s not going to refuse treatment for like a jammed finger or a sprained ankle because that’s normal in volleyball or even burns from youngtaek/joochan because that’s just accidentally losing control which could happen to anyone but like??? falling over because you tried to prank jangjun and he basically backhanded you out of surprise??? that’s on you jibeom

kidding kidding donghyun will heal whatever’s been set on golcha but he WILL complain about it the whole time

that’s his right ok if he has to deal with this bunch of idiots (who also don’t fucking clean up after themselves) he’s going to complain about it with his whole chest

which is not a very broad chest but donghyun can talk a Long time so that more than makes up for it

gets teased by all the other team members but they’re really grateful for him not just because of his healing abilities + affinity for cleaning but also because he really does care for them

and as much as he complains he’ll do as much healing as needed, even if it drains his energy

but there are two major cons of his abilities

1. using his power too much (like all other powers) drains him of energy, so if he heals one too many injuries at a time then he’s in danger of also passing out

it isn’t usually a problem because it’s not like golcha gets injured every five seconds but some practices are more accident prone than others

once joochan fell and broke his leg and donghyun passed out trying to heal it and ended up in the hospital too. not fun

2. he can’t use his power on himself. like if sungyoon fractures his finger donghyun can fix that no big deal but he can’t do the same to himself healing just doesn’t work that way

it is for this reason that each sports team has a designated healer who isn’t a member of the team - of course if the team has a member who is a healer that’s useful, but they need to keep their energy up + they can’t heal themselves which is a problem

anyway the last healer for the volleyball team graduated last year so you come in to take their place

you’re super nice to golcha like you heal their injuries whenever anything happens no matter how stupid it was and they start making jokes about how you’re more helpful than donghyun haha because you don’t complain/nag about everything

and like donghyun knows they’re teasing but at the same time... it kinda hurts

what makes it worse is that you’re nothing but nice to him as well? like it’d be so much easier to dislike you if you were rude

so donghyun just kinda... avoids you and doesn’t say anything about it to anyone. does his absolute best to avoid getting injured so he doesn’t have to be around you any more than necessary

and several times you try to make conversation but he just brushes you away which leaves you confused and makes donghyun feel worse but he really doesn’t know what else to do

then one bad day he jumps up but misses the ball and falls on his leg hard. like really hard and there’s pain shooting up his side but he can’t feel a break or anything so he just gets up and tries to keep playing, like practice ends in five minutes anyway he may as well continue

but you call out and say to stop practice, donghyun’s hurt

except donghyun has had a really bad day and this is just the icing on the cake so he may or may not yell at you to go away, he’s fucking fine, and when you keep pressing he just grabs his stuff and leaves

the second he gets home he collapses on the floor and just... stays there because yeah he may not have broken anything but his leg hurts like a bitch and then he starts crying

skips school the next day because he feels like absolute shit (mentally and physically) but 99 line comes to visit and they’re like so. explain what happened yesterday at practice

and donghyun is ready to get defensive but they’re more confused than anything, his outburst wasn’t like him at all and why would he yell at you? you never did anything wrong

that’s when donghyun breaks down and tells them everything about how he’s felt over the past few months with you as the new healer

it ends in a big cuddle session between four idiots and apologies and donghyun promises to apologize to you tomorrow

which he does. and surprisingly you’re really gracious about it, it makes donghyun feel worse yet again because you’re so genuine and nice and you even offer to heal his leg again because it looks like it still hurts

the teasing decreases and donghyun feels much better, he also stops brushing you off and actually begins hanging out with you a little outside of school/practice

and while working late on a group project for history (your other group mates ditched you two and donghyun is still seething over it) he realizes that this has evolved into a stupid crush

said crush is only compounded when you tell the teacher half of your group did absolutely nothing without donghyun having to say anything

but of course since donghyun 1. is an idiot and 2. pretended to hate you for several long months he doesn’t say anything

until you fucking ask him to the end of the year dance. you ask him to the dance and donghyun thinks joochan has given him electric shock because his brain definitely has to be malfunctioning

after five solid seconds of short-circuiting he nods like an idiot and haha you’re going to the dance together

golcha boys won’t shut the fuck up about how cute it is or whatever

donghyun blushes red while you just smile serenely and promise not to heal their injuries for the next week so they better avoid getting hurt

yeah donghyun is definitely in love with you

you’re probably a more low-key couple, you enjoy study dates or quiet activities more than like. amusement parks or whatever kind of shit joochan/jangjun subject their partners to

you might kiss in public if the moment feels right but more often than not the only real pda you show is holding hands which makes golcha coo

donghyun would rather hug you sweetly in private without worrying about his teammates trying to ruin the moment anyway

you agree but then proceed to kiss his nose in front of everyone and whoops he’s a blushing mess and golcha (+ the coach) are screaming

sigh

joochan - electricity

ah yes, the ultimate question: which hurts more, electric burns or fire burns?

join the golden child volleyball team and you can experience both firsthand!

jk (not really) but between joochan and youngtaek, golcha kinda has their pick of what kinds of burns to get (other than like. rope burn or burns from sliding on the ground idk)

like casey said it’s v lucky donghyun/his partner are around to heal them because really trying to slap a volleyball with a burnt hand is not fun

most of the time though joochan’s fine, he’s just full of energy and gets staticky when excited and like casey came up with the boys will sometimes dare each other to touch his hair when it’s sticking straight up and get shocked

or if you’re a bitch like jangjun you’ll take someone’s hand and purposely place it there so they get shocked

(jangjun’s also stupid though so he gets shocked by proxy if joochan’s staticky enough)

(i mean at least it makes everyone laugh???)

(yes this was inspired by that one video where he and bomin (i think) are playing with the lie detector (or was it the jangstar episode with daeyeol?? i can’t remember) and he put his hand over bomin’s/daeyeol’s and got wrecked too)

jesus christ this is supposed to be about joochan not jangjun let’s get back on track

anyway when joochan gets worked up either out of excitement or a more negative emotion the one thing that never fails to calm him down is music

he can play several instruments and sings very well

so if it’s been a bad day or he’s feeling anxious, he’ll either go to the school music rooms of his own accord or daeyeol will notice and send him there to calm down a little before practice

which is where he finds you!

joochan’s playing the piano one day, singing n stuff and completely oblivious to you sleeping under the goddamn piano

how did you end up there? you were waiting for a friend/sibling (whichever one you choose) to finish up some after school activity so you could walk home together and you were sleepy and under the piano seemed like a decent place to nap so you set an alarm and passed out

look high school is draining so if you’re not making the best decisions by the end of the day who can blame you

and the piano is a real grand (let’s pretend the school has money shall we) so unless joochan was really looking (which he wasn’t), he wouldn’t have noticed you at the back

joochan’s there for a couple hours playing peacefully

AND THEN YOUR ALARM FUCKING RINGS

joochan screams and falls off the stool

you shoot up and hit your head on the bottom of the piano

for a moment you two just groan in pain and then you look at each other and are like. what the fuck

and then it’s your turn to scream

anyway you both stop screaming eventually (miraculously no one comes in) and you try to explain to joochan as best you can and he just stays silent and you’re apologizing and then he busts out laughing

and somehow both of you are laughing through the pain and even though joochan wasn’t feeling too good earlier he feels even better laughing with you

when you eventually leave you have a new number in your phone and the promise of seeing joochan tomorrow :)

first thing joochan does when you go is text the 99 line group chat and be like guys someone fell asleep under the piano while i was playing and then woke up and my butt hurts from falling off the stool out of surprise but i think i’m in love

donghyun: stop being dramatic

jibeom: yeah what’ll happen when you accidentally shock them for the first time

joochan: you guys are horrible

but it turns out jibeom is... actually a little bit right

and it’s even worse. because your power is over water

water + electricity Do Not Mix

it isn’t usually too big of a problem? because it’s not like you conjure water out of anywhere or are always soaking wet bc you need water around to manipulate it, you can’t create it yourself

so like it’s kind of fine

except for some reason you react a little worse to joochan’s electric shocks (even mild ones) primarily due to your power which isn’t fun at all

it’s not just you, water manipulators are known to have more averse reactions to electric shocks than people with other powers

but it sucks because you really like joochan and he really likes you and both of you definitely want to ask each other out but how is this going to work if just being around joochan might be a hazard to you?

and for the first time joochan just... he really hates his power

like he’s given people some small burns before on accident but they weren’t big

with you though, even if it’s a small shock you react more badly than anyone expects and joochan really fucking hates it

after several volleyball practices where joochan is really out of it, daeyeol is about to ask what’s up but surprisingly jangjun steps up and says let me handle it

because after getting together with his partner, he thinks he has an idea of what joochan’s upset about

and when he asks joochan spills everything

it’s the first time joochan has really seen jangjun serious about anything other than volleyball or his partner

so jangjun tells joochan about what his partner told him, and really knocking someone unconscious once or twice isn’t as bad (though still bad) as getting electrocuted by a stray fucking spark

but similar advice applies. all powers have a destructive side and it shouldn’t stop joochan from living, he just has to learn to control himself as best as he can. there’s nothing more he can do but that

and this gives joochan the courage to ask if you want to talk about it

i’m going to say it ends well because i’m the author and i’m not going to give joochan a sad ending (he’s joochan what the fuck how could you do that to him) but you do acknowledge what could happen if either of you loses control

which just makes you two more determined to completely master your abilities so you won’t inadvertently hurt each other

really it’s sweet. joochan is still excitable but sparks fly off of him a lot less and the few that do you take care to avoid until his hair stops sticking up with static

and you take care to keep water away from him when he’s full of electricity

when joochan kisses you for the first time your lips tingle like his electricity is bleeding into you but it’s pleasant and sweet unlike his sparks and it just makes you want to kiss him all the time

(you tell that to him and he has to take like five minutes to figure out how to breathe again)

99 line won’t stop clowning you two for how you met and jibeom shows you the text about being in love that joochan sent

legend says you can still hear jibeom’s electrocuted (not really he’s just being dramatic) screams in the gym late at night

yeah it’s cute you like bringing joochan roses bc they’re his favorite flower and joochan likes to bring you your favorite snacks and jangjun + his partner view you two like younger siblings in a way bc of the nature of your relationship

one big happy family until joochan’s hair sticks up and you have to yeet away

it’s fine though as long as you give him a kiss after he’s calmed down :)

bomin - mind reading

this one turned out so long compared to the others why

for context this was 1.7k and the others were all comfortably between 1k or 1.2k i'm gonna scream

anyway. bomin. mind reader like casey said. he’s kind of got it bad

well all mind readers do until they learn to block off their ability until they actually want to use it

which bomin is learning but he’s young and he found out his powers a little late so he doesn’t have as much experience

meaning whenever he goes to school his head kind of feels like it’s going to explode :/

it’s okay in volleyball - actually if anything it’s kind of useful

because yeah bomin is focused on the game, but he keeps a bit of his mind open to his teammates’ thoughts so he knows where to move or where to keep open and all that

and if the other team is a bunch of assholes he doesn’t stop from reading their minds a little so golcha’s ready to take them on :) small advantages

so where volleyball is concerned it’s not that big of an issue, even when the gym is full of spectators bomin can usually focus even without latching onto an empty mind because there’s so much going on in the game and he has to concentrate on that

however in uninteresting classes or when he’s just having a not good day...

luckily it’s gotten better after a year or so, like bomin can mostly filter out the world if he focuses on just one person’s thoughts

which is usually youngtaek (as casey + irl bomin came up with) because quote unquote ‘there’s not much going on up there’

yes i know i said that already in youngtaek’s part but it’s still hilarious to me and now it’s bomin’s turn so i’m saying it again. sue me

except now youngtaek has a partner about whom he thinks all the fucking time if he isn’t focusing on music/volleyball/class (though the last one is a little less frequent) so concentrating on youngtaek’s mind is now not exactly an option for bomin

no one’s mind is really empty at this point or at least not empty enough for bomin to use as a sort of safe space so he just resigns himself to having to go through all of this until he finally gets the hang of blocking off his ability

so the school year ends and daeyeol/sungyoon graduate wonderful blah blah blah long story short bomin is in all new classes with many new people and it is... a bit much

but life goes on and there’s not much bomin can do about things except work on his own power so even though he’s kinda crumbling around the edges he just smiles and bears it

and then he gets paired with you for a school project. at first it’s not anything special, just a regular project right

but then you guys decide to meet up at a cafe to work on it and it’s more crowded than either of you expected and bomin hasn’t had the greatest day so he just... stops in the middle of the cafe with this weird expression on his face because he’s just really overwhelmed

he doesn’t expect you to grab his wrist and drag him out of the cafe and into a quieter area of the street

and he really doesn’t expect you to say hey. focus on my mind, okay? my mind. focus.

but he manages to and there’s just blissful emptiness and bomin latches on like it’s his lifeline (in a way, it is) and after a few minutes he manages to get his head together

turns out you have a sibling at home who’s also a mind reader and when they were still learning to control their power you learned to empty your thoughts temporarily so they’d have a place to focus on if things got to be too much

you also have a golden tongue (that you always control carefully) but it helps calm bomin down after he says it’s fine if you use it

after that you tell him if he’s having a mini crisis he can always find you

and bomin just about cries because after daeyeol/sungyoon graduated he kind of felt like his support network at school was missing something bc as much as he clowns them (daeyeol especially) he really relied on both to talk to about his mind-reading issues

now that you’re offering to support him... it just means a lot

definitely doesn’t help that he’s had a bad day in general and his emotions are kinda fraught at this point

you don’t end up getting anything done that day, you just take bomin over to your house bc no one’s there and your family won’t mind even if he’s still there when they get home, so you just take the time to get to know each other a little when bomin feels good enough to interact

he apologizes a lot for nothing getting done but you just hit him and tell him to shut up, it’s not his fault and you still have a couple weeks to work on it so it’s fine

you guys work on the project and it goes well in the end but even after that you and bomin still stay in contact

since you have a sibling who went through the same stuff bomin did, you have some tips to share about blocking out other minds even if your power isn’t the same

plus your golden tongue is really useful in calming bomin during the moments he needs it. you always make sure to get his permission to use it before you do though

when bomin asks about it you say it’s because of consent and stuff and if you don’t get permission it feels more like manipulation than helping?

to him the similarities between you and daeyeol on that end are uncanny (even if you’re less awkward sorry not sorry daeyeol) and bomin just admires you all the more for it

anyway life’s going well, you and bomin are really good friends now but maybe like halfway through the year or something bomin senses that you’re becoming a little more closed off?

like he does his best not to read your mind but sometimes he gets accidental glimpses and though they’re usually pretty free (as in you don’t care what you’re thinking about around him) he now gets less of these glimpses and when he does, your mind seems emptier than usual

and he doesn’t want to bring it up? because that equals admitting he reads your mind sometimes no matter how accidental it is and with your emphasis on consent with your power bomin isn’t sure how well you’d take it

but then you avoid him for like two weeks so bomin breaks down about it to daeyeol over the phone and yeah it’s time for you two to talk

it takes some awkward silence and prodding and really big effort on bomin’s part to not willingly see what you’re thinking but the gist of it is

you have a fat crush on bomin and you’ve been avoiding him because you don’t want him to accidentally see any of it

bomin is like... y/n what the heck i have a crush on you too why didn’t you say anything :(

anyway it’s time for big reveals i guess so bomin admits he accidentally sees into your mind every so often and he feels really bad about it but you’re super understanding bc of your sibling of course

and bomin feels kind of stupid for worrying so much he should’ve thought of that but oh no now you’re hugging him and saying sorry into his shirt so pretty much all thoughts fly out of his mind because maybe this is a little like heaven to bomin

dating you is so refreshing. he’s so happy to have someone around who completely understands like yeah there are other mind readers in the school but it’s not as common a power as others and they’ve been masters at blocking out the world for a long while that they’ve kinda forgotten about how it feels to a beginner

but you’re so sweet and understanding and bomin feels even better when he meets your sibling who teases you two of course but also serves as another pillar of support for him

it’s not just one-sided either. like even though bomin tries not read your mind without permission, he’s still good at picking up on your moods even if you’re not explicit which makes it so much easier to trust and confide in him

and even if you’re not in the mood to talk he gets that too - he won’t force you to do anything

on the occasions when even you can’t pick through your own thoughts you let bomin take a peek in and even if he can’t help in the moment it’s enough that someone else knows and understands :)

you’re so fucking cute together. like the rest of golcha coos over you. even donghyun who’s the most low-key with his partner jfc

daeyeol and sungyoon come back from university to visit and bomin’s like. we’ve got to hide

you: why

bomin: just trust me

long story short you do not (you: they’re your former teammates and friends! how bad can it be?) and uh by the end of the day maybe you’ve had enough teasing about you/bomin for the rest of your life

but when he’s not teasing you do hit it off with daeyeol bc of the same powers thing and secretly bomin’s really happy that two of the people he treasures the most get along so well

yeah you and bomin are just super cute and rely on each other a lot in a healthy way and you’re always there for each other

everyone wishes they had as nice a relationship as you two :)

you: you shouldn’t. bomin teases me every five fucking seconds about something i did like three months ago

bomin: and yet you love me :)

you: debatable

bomin :|

(it’s ok you kiss him later and he gets smiley again which you delight in seeing even if he does go back to teasing you five seconds later)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for the team coach he needs some support dealing with all these brats)

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