#who when in high school despite her best efforts and how lame she thinks the crew is (teenager) starts working the summers there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bratdesire · 3 years

Text

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

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

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re… You have…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From: Tomie <3

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

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

7K notes · View notes

em-writes-imagines · 4 years

Text

beach party | zuko

study group: a social media au where you work at iroh’s boba tea shop with zuko, try to keep up with your college courses, and stir up an irresponsible amount of chaos with the gaang

prev. / part six / next

((author’s note: okay, so! this update wound up being over 3k words, oops! also, this one is just the written out scene, since none of this takes place over social media/text, and can be read as a solo piece if you aren’t caught up with the rest of the story! enjoy!!))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stare at yourself in Katara’s mirror, still second-guessing the cut of your swimsuit.

“Hey, you look great,” she assures you from across the room. “Besides, just think about all the fun you’ll have getting to swim again!”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you smile at the thought, giving yourself one more once-over before turning away from your reflection. “How do you always know what to say?”

“It’s a secret,” she presses a finger to her lips before laughing. “Now, come on, get dressed!”

You glance at the clock and your eyes go wide. “Shit, why didn’t you tell me it was getting so late?” you ask, moving across the room to pull on a hawaiian shirt and a pair of shorts over your swimsuit.

“You were kind of distracted by the mirror,” she laughs again. “Don’t worry, you still have time!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive to the beach is quiet, but not uncomfortably so, a local rock station filling the silence. You’re not sure what kind of music you’d expected to hear, but it seems… fitting, especially with the way Zuko drums his fingers along the steering wheel in time.

You realize as the buildings go by that you haven’t travelled to this side of the city in ages, and a somewhat childlike excitement builds within you when you see the shoreline come into view. The ocean.

“How long has it been?” Zuko’s voice pulls you out of your reverie.

“Hm?”

“Since you’ve seen the ocean?” he explains. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen it before.”

“Oh, well, uh, I guess it’s been awhile?” You try to think back far enough. “It was before I graduated high school; what about you?”

He seems caught off guard for a moment, hesitant as he says, “I… haven’t been since my last family trip; so, yeah, awhile.”

Of course, you notice the edge in Zuko’s tone when he says family. Outside of Iroh, you know next to nothing about Zuko’s family. You’ve heard the name Azula thrown around a few times, usually in distaste or regret, but other than that… Zuko doesn’t talk about them, and you’re not going to pry.

“Do you think it’d be lame for me to pick seashells at a party?” you ask, only partly serious as you try to change the subject.

When you see the small upturn of his lips, you smile, even as he adds, “Yeah, I do.”

“Well, now I have to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh my god! Zuko! Y/n!” you hear Ty Lee’s voice the second you step onto the sand, your bag and towel still in hand as she runs over to greet you. “It’s been so LONG, how have you been?? I’m so glad you could make it!!!”

Her smile is infectious, and you can’t help but grin as you reply, “Things are good! It’s so nice to see you again!”

“Why don’t you two find someplace to set up and then come join Mai and I for some volleyball! We’ve been trying to get a good game going, but no one can handle Mai’s serves,” she laughs, looking back toward her girlfriend affectionately before returning her attention to you. “What do you say?”

“That sounds like fun! What do you think?” you glance over to Zuko, whose expression is incredibly passive.

“Yeah… sounds fun.”

“Yay!!! I’ll go tell Mai!”

Ty Lee runs off toward the volleyball net while you find a place to set your things down, spreading out the beach towel you borrowed from Katara.

“Well, she’s just as sweet as I remember,” you comment, and Zuko shrugs. You watch him for a moment before asking, “Everything okay? We don’t have to go play—”

“No, it’s fine, I just… haven’t played in awhile, that’s all.”

You can tell there’s more to it, but again, it’s not something you’re going to press about, so you just smile instead. “I’m sure you’ll do fine! Now c’mon, get your ass into gear, we’ve got a game to win.”

He shakes his head, but follows you over to the net nonetheless.

“Just so you know, our games can get a little intense,” Zuko comments as you walk over, his tone somewhere between a joke and a serious warning.

“What, you don’t think I can handle it?” you ask with a laugh, not sure how to interpret the smirk he gives you.

“Just warning you, that’s all.”

Ty Lee enthusiastically waves as you approach, her other hand intertwined with Mai’s. She’s practically bouncing on tips of her toes, and you can’t fathom how a single human being is filled with that much energy… but honestly, it helps quell the anxiety you’ve been feeling all week.

“Hey Y/n,” Mai nods her head toward you, “Zuko.”

“Hey!” You don’t get the feeling that there’s any bad blood left, as you know Mai has never been much for words. The only discomfort that lingers in the air is emanating from Zuko, who still hasn’t said a thing.

So, you do the only thing you can think to do, and smile at him, trying to encourage him to loosen up.

“Hey,” he finally speaks, “so are we gonna get this game started, or what?”

Ty Lee laughs and claps her hands, and you can even see the smallest hint of a smile on Mai’s face as she rolls the ball over to Zuko. “Your serve.”

“Show us one of those killer serves, Zuko!” Ty Lee shouts, already in ready position, and you start to realize that this “game” might be a little more than you bargained for.

And when you hear the impact of Zuko’s serve, you know this is more than just a simple game of beach volleyball.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After starting to sweat and realizing how limited your mobility is, you decide to take off your outer clothes, causing Ty Lee to pause the entire game to run over and get a better look at your swimsuit, overflowing with compliments. You can feel the blush rise to your cheeks, but again, her attitude melts away most of the anxiety you’d been feeling over the swimsuit.

You find it slightly easier to keep up with them after that.

At some point, Zuko’s shirt also gets tossed aside, and you’re having trouble concentrating on your serve. It’s game point, with both teams tied, and the pressure you’re feeling is uncomfortable to say the least. Everyone’s moves are so fast and intense; you feel out of place with your simple underhand serve and wariness toward diving for the ball.

You shake your head, doing your best to avoid looking at Zuko in any… less than platonic way, and serve the ball.

Ty Lee receives it with ease, and Mai sets her up for a spike aimed directly at you. In the span of a few seconds, you have to decide between two options: duck out of the way, or try to receive the ball as it moves at what seems to be 70mph.

While every survival instinct in your body tells you to avoid the hit, you find yourself wanting to… impress these people? Or, at the very least, not let Zuko down, so you move your forearms and try to send the ball toward him.

The ball hits your skin with an impact that leaves red marks behind, but you barely notice as you watch Zuko run toward the ball at its highest point and spike it over the net, his muscles flexing with the movement. It hits the sand on the other side, Ty Lee unable to dive in time, but you’re still staring at Zuko. Hell, how do you look away from that.

He’s genuinely smiling when he looks back at you, a small but invigorated smile, and you do your best to return the look and play it off like you hadn’t just been eyeing him up.

“Aw, man!” Ty Lee pushes herself off the ground, but her pout quickly turns into a smile. “Good game, guys! That was fun!!!”

“Yeah,” Mai agrees, rolling the ball back over to her bag before taking Ty Lee’s hand. “Thanks for playing with us.”

“We’re gonna go say hi to some other guests, but feel free to grab a drink!” Ty Lee gestures to the little set-up of coolers nearby, somehow still bouncing with energy as they walk away.

“So, you didn’t feel the need to tell me that you guys were beach volleyball masters?” you ask as Zuko walks back toward you, your voice winded.

He laughs under his breath. “I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that; I did try to warn you, though.”

“Look at my arms, Zuko,” you hold out your forearms, showing off the marks left from Ty Lee’s last spike. “Look at them! You’re telling me that’s not the work of an absolute pro?”

He rolls his eyes, showing you the lingering redness on his own palm. “Maybe you just need to toughen up.”

“Oh?” You flex your bicep, trying not to laugh at your own dumb joke before you even say it. “This not tough enough for you?”

Zuko just stares at you incredulously, then breaks out into a laugh.

You try to ignore the heat that rises to your face.

“You know what? Fine, if I can’t best you in strength then… race you to the water!” You’re already sprinting away by the end of your sentence, and you giggle as Zuko calls out “Hey!” from behind you.

Despite your head start, you can hear his footfalls close behind you, and glance back to see him only a couple steps away. “Nuh uh, no way,” you mutter to yourself, pushing harder to reach the shoreline first.

By the time you’re only a few feet away from the water, you’re toe to toe with Zuko, and in a last ditch effort, you barrel your shoulder into him. He staggers to the side, most likely only because he was caught off guard by the action, but regardless, it gives you that extra few seconds to reach the shoreline before him.

“Cheater!” he calls out as you wade further into the water, now swimming away from him. You’re about to turn around and taunt your win, albeit dubiously achieved, when a hand wraps around your ankle and pulls you back.

Suddenly, Zuko is in front of you, arms crossed. “You know I should’ve won.” There’s a glare on his face that doesn’t hide the amusement in his eyes, and you feign innocence.

“Who said there were any rules involved, hm?”

His eyes narrow, and you take the opportunity to splash a small wave of water at him, attempting to swim away before he can retaliate.

You make it a little bit farther away from him this time, but again, he grabs your leg, this time pulling you into his arms so he can pick you up and dunk you back into the water.

You resurface sputtering, both from the water in your mouth and the sudden physical contact from Zuko. Deciding to firmly ignore any thoughts sparked by the touch, you frown at him, shouting, “Oh, it is on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the sun goes down, you and Zuko are sitting beside one of the bonfires, listening to the chatter of everyone around you as you warm up. You both have your outer layers on again, the sea breeze carrying a chill that would make you shiver otherwise. Someone’s party mix is playing in the background, on a speaker small enough that the bass doesn’t sound right, but people are dancing around it anyways, drinks in hand.

Neither of you add much to the conversation, instead opting to listen and shoot each other looks at particularly interesting quotes. It wasn’t all that different from your shifts at the Jasmine Dragon, overhearing the weirdest things from customers and judging them together. When Zuko’s eyes meet yours, brow raised after an incredibly stupid comment from a nearby frat boy, you have to stifle a laugh.

Despite all the strangers, it’s familiar, and it’s nice.

Zuko excuses himself a few minutes later, going to grab another drink, and you nod, watching the flames dance in front of you. Without someone there to make fun of everyone with, you find the fire to be a much more interesting sight, from the embers beneath the logs to the small sparks that float off the highest flames. It’s almost hypnotizing.

So, you hardly notice when someone takes Zuko’s place.

“Hi,” a voice pulls you out of your trance, and you look over to see a girl with dark hair and golden eyes. She’s smiling, but there’s something unnerving about the expression, something you can’t place. “I’m Azula, Zuko’s sister,” she reaches out to shake your hand. “You must be Zuko’s date.”

You finish the gesture, and her fingers squeeze just a little too tightly around your hand as you explain, “Oh! No, we’re just friends!”

She throws her head back with a laugh before looking you up and down. “Of course, that makes much more sense; I’ll admit, I was confused when I saw you two in the water earlier. I must say, it is so brave of you to wear a swimsuit like that.”

You feel your throat constrict, staring dumbfounded for a moment as you try to process her words. “Excuse me?”

“I mean it!” She smiles. “I admire the courage it must have taken just to put it on, let alone wear it to a party like this. You should be proud.”

There’s a glint in her eye that tells you she knows exactly what she’s doing, and you don’t know how to respond. Without Zuko next to you, you feel completely alone, surrounded by people who won’t take a second glance in your direction. It’s like you’re drowning, and the girl in front of you is holding you under.

“I— I should go,” you manage to get out, moving to stand up, but she grabs your wrist.

“No, please, stay until little Zuzu comes back! I’m sure we can find something to talk about, like how bold it was for you to show up without wearing any makeup, I mean, wow.”

The pure joy in her eyes as she meticulously picks you apart burns straight through you. “I really should go.”

When you try to yank your wrist away, she pouts, gripping it tighter. “Don’t you know it’s rude to leave in the middle of a conversation?”

Your mind struggles to keep up with the sudden change in atmosphere, how quickly the anxiety from this afternoon returns, almost doubled. Any hint of joy, any spark of laughter, it’s all fading under the piercing glare of those molten eyes… you feel trapped.

“Azula? What the hell are you doing?”

Zuko’s voice has never filled you with such relief, and thankfully, she releases her grip. “I was just introducing myself to your new friend!” She shoots him a grin before turning back to you. “What was your name again?”

Your mouth goes dry as you try to answer, and Azula laughs.

“Oh, come on, don’t be shy now. All I’ve done is compliment your confidence!”

“What are you talking about—just leave them alone, Azula.”

“Fine, whatever you say, Zuzu.” She turns to walk away, sighing, “Sue me for being nice...”

“What was that—”

“Can we go?”

Your voice is small, and you’re staring at your feet, unable to look at Zuko. You want to fade away, or disappear into the sea, or sink into the sand—anything to get away from the eyes surrounding you.

“Yeah, sure.”

Whatever questions he has, he doesn’t ask, simply follows you back to where you left your bag and towels. You can feel your hands shaking as you gather your belongings and you bite your cheek, hoping the night helps to at least somewhat mask your trembling. Get it together, idiot.

You hate that you were letting a few comments get to you this badly. Somehow, Azula managed to hit every single point of insecurity and anxiety within seconds of meeting you, and it takes everything you have to keep from spiraling right then and there.

Once you’re back in the car, you let out a sigh. It’s quiet, the music from the party faint and muffled in the background, and you can feel Zuko looking at you.

Before he can say anything, you tell him, “I’m sorry I pulled you away from the party; it seemed like you were having fun.”

Even you can hear the shake in your voice.

“Don’t worry about it; I was starting to get tired anyways.”

He starts the car, and radio static plays for a few seconds before tuning into a local station. Old rock music pours from the speakers, and you’re thankful to have something to fill the silence.

But Zuko doesn’t put the car in reverse, doesn’t so much as move to take it out of park.

“...are you okay?” His voice sounds stiff, like he’s not sure how to phrase his question, or if it’s something he should ask at all.

When you open your mouth to try and come up with some little lie, you find yourself muted by that tight feeling in the back of your throat, and all that comes out is a strangled, “I...“

Zuko sighs, a bitterness to his tone as he tells you, “Whatever Azula said, she’s just— she’s just a narcissist that gets off on putting everyone else down, her words don’t mean shit.”

It’s not like you haven’t cried in front of Zuko before. After a particularly nasty burn at work, you couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face. He didn’t say anything when it happened, thankfully, just let you take your time taking care of it as he covered both register and tea-making for you. Now, though, it’s different. You don’t want to cry in front of him like this. This isn’t a burn or a bruise; it’s pure shame and embarrassment and frustration. It’s searing emotional pain and you can’t let him see you like this.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you to this—“

“No, I had fun,” you insist, despite the strain in your voice. “It was a lot of fun. I’m not gonna let one bad moment ruin an entire night.”

But that isn’t up to you. Your mind has been fast at work clouding every memory with the realization that you were out there, in front of all those people, in front of Zuko, looking like that. It hurts.

“Do you… still wanna get frozen yogurt?”

The idea of trying to eat anything, let alone something so sweet, makes you feel nauseous, your stomach already turning in unease. “I think I’m gonna have to take a raincheck.” You try to keep your voice steady, try to force a smile. “You still owe me, though.”

He doesn’t tease you back. There’s no amusement in his eyes, just… worry, and you have to look away. “Can you take me home? I’m feeling tired and I— I can just get my things from Katara’s place tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

The drive home is silent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

@samsmultifandomblogs

@kittyddandnyla

@thanosismybitxh

@lovemyself-persona

@zukochi

@yeehawnana

@astroninaaa

@akariblue

@welovediaaxx

@jisnuq

@anime-simp

@scriptura-delirus

@ella-solei

@simply-stanning

@darkskin-buttercup

@duh-dobrik

@jaeminsorbit

@angelbabymed

@heartheirwords

@cece-lives-here

@coldlilheart

@phreyathephrog

@sanguine606

@plutaars

@aphrodites-perfume

@yungguhnk

@grapesauze

@silverreading

@leslieanahid

@harajukukitsune

@lucyrocks86

@spookities

@william-shookespeare

@thxnderclouds

@royahllty

@ushijii

@youngestdelacour

@becauseimmaya

@sugawsites

@hahaimstoopid

@harmlessoffering

#zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #zuko x you #atla imagine #atla x reader #atla social media au #zuko scenario #zuko smau #atla smau #avatar x reader #avatar imagine #avatar smau

369 notes · View notes

beca-mitchell · 4 years

Photo

religion's in your lips (even if it's a false god) (1/1)

Summary: Beca still wants Chloe in whatever way she can get her, even at her own detriment. Rated M/E for sex.

This is for @asimplefavors in thanks for her donation and participation in @ppfandomdrive. This is part of the now i see daylight au.

Word count: 4,944

Read below or on AO3.

* * * * *

Age: 19 Location: New York City, NY Month: December

* * * * *

Not that Beca’s counting, but this is the fourth month since her break-up with Chloe and the first time since meeting Chloe at five years old that she’s been uncertain about going into the new year without her best friend by her side.

It’s weird. It’s uncertain.

But most of all, it feels like she’s never really going to get over that break-up—her first break-up ever—anytime soon.

It stings, months later, even though Beca knows that Chloe had her reasons for wanting to go their separate ways; even though Beca knows now that she and Chloe hadn’t been working for a while; even though there had been problems on both ends.

It isn’t worth analyzing, not now to Beca at least. The short story is simple enough, rife with enough heartache: it had been too much too fast and they hadn’t been ready to handle it enough.

Still, years of friendship with Chloe has made Beca somewhat of an optimist (a bad one regardless), so she kind of keeps hoping for some kind of refrain to their story, not a coda. The distance between them now feels oppressive—jarring in ways that Beca could have never imagined—even if Beca knows with every fiber of her being that Chloe is closer to her than ever before (physically at least) since they’re both likely in the same city.

Chloe had adapted easily to her transfer to Columbia from Barden, as Beca had expected. They had barely exchanged texts, just simple greetings and congratulatory messages from time to time—as often as they could within the span of the four months they had officially been broken up. Within that time, however, Beca felt more and more desperate to stay connected to Chloe despite everything. It had taken Beca everything to not mention offhandedly that she knew Chloe had started lowkey seeing somebody (or at least sleeping with somebody—though Beca isn’t sure which is the more comforting thought) around the end of October or early November.

...not that Beca had been keeping track.

Or, rather, more accurately put, she doesn’t want to keep track. It just seems like she’s not very good at getting her way when it comes to Chloe Beale.

* * * * *

It wasn’t like Beca necessarily had other plans for the New Year. A lackluster collection of messages sit on her phone from her father, her mother, and even her step-siblings, but none of them really invigorated her into wanting to spend time with any of them (and if she’s being painfully honest with herself, she’s almost certain that they’re not wholly interested in spending that much time with her either). Even her increasingly growing circle of friends in Los Angeles didn’t really feel like the right group of people to spend the new year with.

But, even with that on Beca’s mind, all of this had been Theo’s idea. Beca had begrudgingly agreed because she had kind of grown tired of being cooped up in Los Angeles where she would have been happy to spend some quality time in the studio. With the success of her EP and her first full-length album being well on its way, Theo had thought it a good idea to make their rounds to “friends and family” of the Republic Records roster.

It was surreal to say the least, brushing shoulders with people that Beca had once admired from the confines of her bedroom all the way back in Massachusetts, simply hoping that she would have her shot. From her bedroom to the record store where she had spent most days flipping through old albums, daydreaming about music and Chloe and simply wishing for time to fly by so she could finally get her life started.

What she would do to go back to that quiet store, to feel Chloe’s arms draped over her shoulders and her playful giggle in her ear in her attempts to distract Beca from work she had no intention of doing anyway.

Now, at a private party hosted by FLETCHER, Beca has to shake herself more than once simply to get out of the headspace she had been in, good thoughts and bad thoughts alike.

This is, after all, her once in a lifetime opportunity.

* * * * *

Scratch that. All of that.

She’s staring right at Chloe Beale at a rented-out abandoned warehouse-apartment. Beca would recognize Chloe anywhere. She can’t quite believe her eyes.

Once in a lifetime opportunities indeed.

* * * * *

Chloe looks good.

That’s the first thing Beca notices and she kind of hates herself for it, but it can’t be helped. Her hair is longer, maybe a little curlier, and it falls in loose, beautiful waves over her shoulders. Beca tries to assess whether Chloe looks the same otherwise, but she can’t really tell, not with the dim lighting around them. Beca quickly shakes her head at her companion as she rises from her seat in the corner and darts up to quickly greet Chloe before Chloe has a chance to slip away.

With her heart in her throat, the pressure definitely encroaching on her ability to speak, she steps beside Chloe. She tracks her eyes up the side of Chloe’s face for a moment while Chloe has yet to notice her as Beca moves to lean against the same wall Chloe is leaning again.

It takes a moment but Chloe visibly does a double-take when she twists slightly to observe her new wall partner. Beca’s neck heats and she is thankful immediately for the low light.

“Beca?” Chloe exclaims. “Beca! I—holy crap—” Beca dares to make eye contact, feeling her lips twitch into what feels like a smile even though her heart and brain war against each other to process the emotions swirling in her stomach.

Beca opens her mouth to say something—anything, really, at this point—but words fail her momentarily. She swallows, angling her body towards Chloe as well because to do so feels natural, like they gravitate towards each other on instinct. Something beyond either of their control.

“Come with me?” Beca asks. It is then that it really sinks in for her that she is finally standing in front of Chloe who looks equally surprised to see her. Beca really shouldn’t have been surprised at all, not initially at least, because Chloe always had a way of finding her way into the right crowds, but even more than that, she always had a special knack for finding her way into Beca’s life.

“Okay,” Chloe says. At least, Beca thinks she responds. She wants nothing more than to reach back to grab Chloe’s hand or at least look over her shoulder to see if Chloe is following, but she fears that to look back would mean sending Chloe away again.

When Beca finally dares to look back, she is relieved to see that Chloe followed—that perhaps Chloe would always follow Beca in the same way Beca would for her.

“Hi,” Chloe says, when silence passes between them once more in their more secluded corner; their little corner away from prying eyes and keen ears. “You—” she cuts herself off when she notices Beca is in the middle of speaking as well, gesturing at Beca politely.

“Uh, hi,” Beca greets a bit lamely, for some reason now terrified that Chloe has given her the floor to speak. “You’re...here,” she says stiltedly. “In New York. I mean. Because you go to school here now. But you’re here at this…” She looks around before shrugging a shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

Chloe smiles, tucking her hair behind her ears in a gesture that seems rather shy to Beca, but endearing nonetheless. “New Year’s treat to myself,” she says in explanation.

“Ah.” Beca tries not to, she really does, but her eyes track down Chloe’s body immediately, taking in Chloe’s outfit. Simple black jeans and a tank top should have no business looking that good on anybody, but Beca feels her mouth go dry at every last forbidden memory that assaults her system. Briefly, she finds herself jealous, like she ought to scan the dwindling crowd and see whether Chloe came with any friends.

Or any one friend in particular.

She drags her eyes back to Chloe quickly, wrestling with her emotions so she can school her expression appropriately. “Did you come alone?” Beca asks, attempting to inject the right amount of curiosity-sans-jealousy into her tone. Nonchalant. She can do that.

Chloe blushes again and something akin to guilt rises up on her cheeks. It’s a bit of a stretch as Chloe takes her time to respond before finally settling on “Did you? Come alone, I mean.” Her gaze dips past Beca’s shoulder to where Beca had been sitting in her corner, half-heartedly paying attention to the conversation she had been engaging in with her plus-one.

A gaze that meant that perhaps Chloe had been more observant than Beca previously assumed. The thought sends heat through Beca’s body, settling somewhere in her chest and manifesting in a blush across her cheeks.

Chloe is here now. And Chloe is evading her question with a question of her own, which makes all kinds of turmoil swirl through Beca’s stomach.

“I didn’t,” Beca manages to mumble, feeling the oddest sensation of guilt as well. She hadn’t been saving herself for Chloe or anything, which is what she tells herself as she tries to talk herself down. It’s harder to remind herself that Chloe hadn’t necessarily saved herself for her either. “Just...mostly a label thing. I’m here for, um, work.”

It’s all really just too fucking fresh and too fucking devastating, knowing that ‘work’ had been what drove them apart in the first place because they had both naively thought that things wouldn’t have to change between them—that high school would follow them both with ease and transition without any real effort.

Chloe’s tongue comes out to swipe at her lower lip. “I didn’t...either. Not really. But they’re…” Chloe casts a glance over her shoulder. She looks back at Beca, bashful. “It seemed like a good way to kick off the new year, you know?”

“How’s school?” Beca asks. “I know you were…” she swallows thinking of how absent she had been when Chloe had been working on her transfer application. “You were really excited.” It comes out softer than intended and Beca feels the sudden urge to reach out to hold Chloe’s hand.

Chloe smiles at her words. “I love it,” she replies, sounding as passionate as Beca remembers her.

I love you, Beca thinks. "That's good to hear," she says aloud.

* * * * *

The end up talking for at least an hour. Socially, it’s probably not either of their best attempts at working the room, but they both appear to revel in the ease with which they are able to sink back into their usual conversational habits.

But, more poignantly, their usual chemistry. It ebbs and flows in waves around them, like a heady song reminiscent of all the memories that Beca had attempted (with no real effort in all honesty) to suppress.

Beca is so painfully reminded of how long it’s been since she last had sex (with Chloe).

“Do you have plans after this?” Beca asks during a lull in their conversation. She warms at the way Chloe’s eyes flash towards her.

“No,” Chloe admits. “But my friends were thinking of dipping anyway.”

“Oh,” Beca mumbles. “Okay.” She tries not to fixate on the fact that Chloe doesn’t seem to plan on leaving with them. Her eyes track across Chloe’s shoulders and collarbone again.

Beca’s obvious ogling doesn’t go unnoticed. Chloe doesn’t look upset by the attention. Instead, she looks pleased.

Maybe too pleased.

It makes Beca want to kiss the smirk right off her lips.

She struggles to think of something to say—anything but the thoughts racing through her mind. She blames the adrenaline from the high of the live performance and the reception to her music. She blames the energy of the crowd around them. She blames Chloe’s proximity to her. She blames the fact that she can see the light sheen of sweat on Chloe’s bared skin.

But Chloe’s smug expression fades eventually and she shrugs. “Do you want to...talk more?” Chloe asks sincerely. “Or are you busy?”

Beca glances around, taking stock of the people in closest proximity to them. She casts a glance around, keeping an eye out for a handler or her manager, but upon seeing that the coast is fairly clear, she nods and grabs Chloe’s wrist. “Come with me. We can go someplace quieter.”

* * * * *

It feels like a new verse—or maybe an entirely new song. Not quite deja vu, but Beca isn’t sure what she would prefer.

* * * * *

The ride back to Beca’s hotel is the quite possibly the tensest car ride Beca has ever been on. She glances at Chloe non-stop, trying to remember the last time they sat side by side in a car. It had been when Chloe had picked her up at the airport that...that last time.

Beca clenches her hands in her lap.

The hurt still flares up from time to time, but over the past few weeks, it had lessened to nothing but a dull throbbing ache. Nothing to write home about. Nothing to fret over. She had simply been too busy with working on her EP, releasing her single, and then doing promotional work to even think about Chloe for more than a few minutes a day. It was only within those few minutes that she found herself lost in the sad memory of her ex-girlfriend.

But now—now, Chloe is next to her and they finally have a chance to talk. Beca wrings her hands nervously as they round the last street corner before her hotel.

Talking is fine. Beca can talk. Chloe was—is—her best friend. She has nothing to be afraid of. She knows this.

“This is me,” Beca announces unnecessarily as the driver pulls to a stop. “A hotel.”

Chloe giggles at Beca’s unnecessary but familiar awkwardness. “I figured.”

Beca’s throat goes dry. “Well, I mean. Just in case...you didn’t know.” She feels nervous, like she’s about to enter her first day of high school again.

Chloe’s gaze locks onto hers and Beca forgets whatever inane thing she was about to say.

So, talking is a little hard now.

Sue her.

Sue them both.

* * * * *

But some things are easy enough to fall back into. Too easy.

Like the way Chloe’s hand reaches for hers in the elevator. How gently and intimately their fingers tangle together.

Like the way Beca’s entire body heats up when she sees exactly how Chloe is looking at her.

Like the way Beca knew exactly what she wanted to happen when she suggested they go someplace quieter to talk.

* * * * *

“Nice room,” Chloe comments, trailing a finger along the edge of an ornate dresser by the bed. “They didn’t have any suites available?”

The teasing lilt to Chloe’s voice seems amplified—something dark and hungry in Chloe’s tone—but Beca only notices because every last sensory nerve is alert; every sound reverberates through her with the force of a thousand speakers.

She swallows, taking a step towards Chloe before hesitating when Chloe’s eyes cut up to her own.

The thing that comforts Beca most is the stark vulnerability she sees in Chloe’s eyes—the same that she’s sure must be reflected in her own eyes. She wants to say a million things—wants to ask a hundred jealous questions and more. Between leaving high school and now, a mere year and a bit, she feels like they have aged an entire lifetime. The chasm between them is so palpable, rife with tension and hurt mixed in confusingly with the same chemistry they always enjoyed.

“I don’t need a suite,” Beca finally responds. Though her words are bland, she can’t help the way her voice rasps out due to the tightness in her throat and in her chest. Not for this, she wants to say. I need you.

“Guess not,” Chloe murmurs before she closes the distance between them, pulling Beca in for a searing kiss. It is not quite the kiss that Beca envisioned they’d share upon meeting up again, but she curls her fingers tightly into the front of Chloe’s shirt and holds on tight, unwilling to let go, even for what she’s sure is just a night of nothing but uninhibited passion.

* * * * *

“Fuck, Beca,” Chloe moans, tangling her fingers in Beca’s hair to the point of pain. “Right there, yeah, fuck, right there—”

Beca continues to eagerly lick and suck at Chloe’s wet folds, wanting nothing more to bring Chloe to the brink again and again until neither of them can move anymore. She grips Chloe’s thighs, forcing her legs apart further, and continues, uncaring as Chloe’s moans and cries only increase in volume. She doesn’t care if she gets a noise complaint. She’d go as far as to say that a noise complaint is the goal at the moment. She wants to get as many noise complaints as she can. It doesn’t matter as long as she makes Chloe fucking come.

She pushes her tongue past Chloe’s folds, as deep as it can possibly go. Her jaw aches badly but still, she pushes forward. She resists the urge to stop because stopping would mean she would no longer hear the wonderful sounds Chloe makes with each pass of her tongue; with each clumsy stroke of her fingers just where she knows Chloe needs her most. Beca groans at the taste of Chloe all over her mouth and the sounds of Chloe coming apart echoing all over the room.

“I’m going to come,” Chloe moans out. “I’m going to come, fuck—” she comes with a sharp cry, Beca’s name on her lips. Her hips rock up and down as if attempting to dislodge Beca from her, but her hand clamps down hard against the back of Beca’s head to keep her in place. It is an almost unfamiliar, possessive grip. Beca barely remembers when they had been so consumed by passion and lust that emotions barely had the chance to make themselves known. Still, the gesture makes Beca grind down against the bed in reaction, clenching her fingertips against Chloe’s sweat-slicked skin. She steadies herself by grabbing Chloe’s hips in a vice grip, moaning as the taste of Chloe further floods her mouth, wetting her chin slightly. Her own cunt clenches around nothing as she pants, muffling her own cry against Chloe’s thigh, finally receiving the sweetest, but smallest of releases. She kisses Chloe’s damp skin, using her teeth to bluntly nip along the soft warmth of Chloe’s inner thigh in an attempt to calm herself down.

Without waiting for Chloe to say anything else, Beca crawls up her body, using her fingers to stimulate her own clit as she goes. She groans, eyes nearly crossing at the sensation. She’s too sensitive, too far gone, so she rocks her hips greedily down against Chloe’s thigh before letting her fingers slip inside herself. Months since she has felt another person’s touch against her—months since Chloe. Even touching herself didn’t quite feel the same without the knowledge that she had Chloe. “I’m so close,” she pants out. “Please, I want to—”

Chloe nods, still slightly dazed from her orgasm, but she pulls Beca in for a searing kiss, tasting just the faintest remnants of herself along the inside of Beca’s mouth. She moans, arching upwards and spreading her legs to accommodate Beca between them. Her hands move to grab at Beca’s ass, helping her rock slowly against the steady, firm thigh Chloe has between her legs, but it’s not what Beca wants most. Her rocking is hindered by her own hand between her legs, her fingers not quite doing what she wants most. She licks her lips, whimpering at the taste of Chloe still lingering just slightly on her lower lip.

“Let me,” Chloe rasps. She wraps a hand around Beca’s wrist. “Come on,” she urges.

Beca bites her lower lip as she removes her fingers, moaning at the loss. She clumsily tries to slot herself between Chloe’s legs, thrusting her hips down as best as she can.

Chloe’s hands drift to her hips in order to better steady her. “Beca, I can—”

“No. Please,” Beca grits out, cutting Chloe off unexpectedly. “I want to feel you like this.” Her hips stutter in their rhythm, but she quickly grabs one of Chloe’s legs and lifts slightly, shifting her hips in just the right way so that she can feel Chloe’s wet folds and her stiff clit brush against her own nether regions. The sensation, even though it is slight with their haphazard positioning, makes her eyes cross and her stomach coil in pleasure knowing that she gets to experience this with Chloe once more. She gasps out, unable to stop the brief, high-pitched sounds from escaping her. She feels so close to Chloe—so connected to her once more. “Please,” she begs. “Let me, God—” she cries out, connecting fully with Chloe’s center.

She aches, badly. Partly from the discomfort of their positions, but also with how much she wants Chloe like this. Like the past few months—hell, the past year—of emotions have come rushing out to spar for dominance in the tangle of Beca’s bedsheets, no longer as crisp and clean as they had been just that morning.

It is as if Chloe feels that surge of emotion from Beca, like she always had before. Chloe’s hands tighten on her hips as her breathing grows erratic once more. She slowly guides Beca’s movements, keeping a steady, gentle rocking motion until she evidently grows impatient and reaches down to swipe her thumb against Beca’s clit. Beca gasps, hips jolting out of place, which is enough for Chloe to roll them over so she can pin Beca beneath her body and slowly press two fingers inside her. “This is so much better,” Chloe purrs, energy renewed.

Beca could disagree on some levels but she can’t exactly disagree fully, not when Chloe’s fingers feel so fucking good inside her, finally.

Months of not having that sensation of fullness, not just physically despite how fucking good it feels, but also that sensation of emotional connection she had been missing so much.

Months of feeling like she couldn’t breathe, knowing that her jealousy had been welling up inside her, threatening to spill over at any second.

Months of not having Chloe, who always knew exactly how to make her feel amazing.

“I wanted to come on you,” Beca pants out, uncaring that her brain is no longer connected to her mouth. “God, fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

Chloe groans. “Later,” she mumbles, leaning down to suck harshly at Beca’s nipple. “I want you like this,” she declares, letting Beca know that the time for negotiation and demands is over. As Chloe’s free hand comes up to cup her breast possessively, Beca briefly wonders how she could possibly want anybody else; she wonders whether Chloe still wants her as much as she still wants Chloe; she wonders if Chloe thinks of her the same way Beca thinks of Chloe, alone in her bed.

Nothing, however, compares to this—the thick, hot air around them, sheets rumpled all around them like a nest for them to lie in until the morning comes. Beca curls her fingers into Chloe’s hair, arching her back with a weak whimper as Chloe’s fingers flex and push inside her with consistency and force.

The sharp sting of Chloe’s teeth against her sensitive skin makes Beca coil and tense once more, this time more distinct than before. She barely recognizes her own voice when she groans, deep and low, as she clenches tight around Chloe’s fingers. “Make me come, please”

“I will,” Chloe promises, increasing the intensity of her thrusts. The bed creaks.

Like a refrain that Beca has longed to hear over and over, she loses herself in the chorus of her own staccato whimpers and grunts, offset only by the echo of Chloe’s breathless sounds. She lets the sensation of being completely possessed by Chloe wrap her up in the pseudo-warmth of being loved once more—the thin blanket of passion and lust that covers them both. She clutches at it—a tightening of her fingers in Chloe’s hair once more and a sharp scratch up Chloe’s back—with some desperation, wanting to both lose herself completely and yet, stay coherent so she can recall every last moment.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Beca pants out, losing track of the rhythm for the briefest of moments as she scrabbles to hold on to whatever part of Chloe she can reach. Chloe clutches her back in return, pressing closer to her, nearly trapping her arm and hand between their bodies entirely.

“I won’t,” Chloe promises again in a tone that sends a fresh wave of arousal through Beca.

Beca allows herself to shut her eyes.

* * * * *

Beca refuses to let up and to her delight, Chloe refuses to as well. She matches Beca one-for-one for everything and before either of them realizes, it is verging close to the early morning.

Sweaty and sticky, Beca moves to grab water from the hotel room’s mini-fridge and tosses a second bottle to Chloe. Chloe takes a long drink before clumsily placing the bottle on the dresser and twisting to face Beca. Chloe’s eyes are dark and wanting, with the mildest hint of exhaustion. Beca’s sure she looks the same—two of them, complete messes. But this is their own little world. At least for the next little while that Beca has Chloe here with her.

Chloe is endlessly patient. She waits while Beca drinks her water. Beca watches her, eyes tracing over the endless, unmarked skin save for a few red scratch marks and blooming hickeys in hidden spots. She wants to do more. She’s not sure where the obsession comes from, but it springs from deep within her chest, like a well that refuses to empty no matter how much Beca draws from it.

A well full of every last repressed thought about Chloe, about their relationship, and about their lives together. Beca knows that this is so unhealthy—that they should talk. But the sex makes everything feel that much more bearable. She can do this with Chloe. They’re both consenting adults. They both have the freedom to decide what they want. Chloe wants this too.

As long as Chloe wants this, she wants Beca. She wants Beca, without a doubt. It clears the insecurities momentarily.

And that’s good enough for Beca.

Beca slowly puts the mostly empty water bottle down on the closest surface. She wants desperately to shower, but she cannot resist crawling back into bed and climbing back on top of Chloe eagerly. No words are needed as their limbs intertwine and their bodies slot together naturally, like they’ve done this a thousand times. Maybe they have, Beca can’t recall. Not when Chloe pulls her in for a messy, passionate kiss, again lacking much of the care and affection their previous kisses used to have.

Beca doesn’t care. Not now, not ever, she thinks. She can do this. All she knows is that her body is somewhat satisfied, but not fully.

She needs to know that Chloe still wants her—that Chloe still desires her in the way that she always did. She is not disappointed when Chloe’s hands immediately fly to her ass, groping at the flesh she finds before slipping to her still-wet pussy. Beca knows how incredibly sore she is going to be in a few hours—perhaps she feels a hint of it already—but she cannot help but rock back onto Chloe’s fingers as she begins to fuck her again.

“Yes,” Chloe whispers. “Fuck yourself, Bec.”

Beca obeys, nodding frantically as she begins a punishing pace. She can only lift her hips so high as to keep Chloe’s fingers steady inside her, but it is Chloe who picks up the pace, who uses her strength to flip them over so she can use her hips as more leverage to drive her fingers deeper and faster.

Chloe was always better at fucking her anyway.

Again, again, Beca’s body cries out.

Her mind and heart remain shockingly quiet on the subject, but Beca wonders how anybody or anything could be displeased by this result. She comes incredibly quick, clenching tight around Chloe’s fingers. For a long moment, Chloe keeps her fingers still, both of them still breathing hard. Beca almost clamps her legs shut around Chloe’s hands, just to keep her there.

Don’t go, she almost says aloud when Chloe finally moves her hand away.

She doesn’t want it to end.

* * * * *

When Beca wakes up in the morning (read: only a few short hours later), her duvet is still warm and Chloe’s pillow is still slightly rumpled. The air smells of Chloe and sex. The bed is half empty, save for a small folded note just above where Chloe’s body had been laying mere hours, minutes, seconds before.

Beca does not have to look elsewhere to see that all of Chloe’s things are probably gone. She reaches for the note even though she knows that the foreboding in her heart is her body telling her that she shouldn’t.

thanks for making the start of this year amazing it was wonderful seeing you xx chloe

She hates how much it feels like another ending.

* * * * *

fin.

#bechloe #pitch perfect fandom drive #pp fandom drive #pitch perfect #bechloe fic #my fanfic #mine #gif #now i see daylight #mine:au

248 notes · View notes

peachwatermelon01 · 3 years

Text

Sweet Lies

Chapter 1

Summary: Park Hana, a former actress who is well known for winning both International and National Awards gave up her incredible hard earned career to enter the high society and marry the man that she loves. The said man is no other than Jung Jaehyun, Seoul hottest bachelor and heir to Jung Technology. Their six years of marriage life is blessed with their eight years old son Jung Yuno, and to people outside both are madly in love and faithful to one another. But are they really happy and in love? or Hana is just blinded with the sweet lies that Jaehyun told her? All will be known and tested when Hana tried to uncover the real identity of their son’s newly hired professional tutor Kim Yeri.

Cast: Jaehyun, Hana (y/n), Yeri, NCT, Rosé, Krystal Jung, Jessica Jung

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

Your deep slumber on the king-sized bed was interrupted by the alarm clock on your nightstand signaling you that it is 5 a.m. and you need to be up and ready to prepare your son for school and help the maids prepare breakfast for your husband and son. Jaehyun, your loving husband were still deep in his sleep with his arm ever so protectively wrapped around your small waist under the silk bed sheets. Jaehyun came back late last night due to work at the company, but it warms your heart that at the end of the day he would still come back into your arms. You tried your very best to rose out of bed without waking him up, as you know that he really needs that extra sleep. But your effort failed as the moment you touch Jaehyun’s arms the dimples on his check appear alongside the groggy smile. “where is my lovely wife going? It’s still too early” Jaehyun mumbles, still feeling very much sleepy. “it is 5 a.m. my love” you peck his forehead. “I need to be up and ready for my two heroes”. Jaehyun tried his best to peak at you with his heavy eyes “we’ll be fine, so come back to bed and cuddle me. I had a really hard day and I need my wife to make me feel better”. “I’m afraid that your wife is unavailable right now, come on Jae.. I need to be up or else Yuno and you will be late for school and work” Jaehyun let out a loud grumble, very much dissatisfied with your answer. “okay.. but let me have you for another 5 minutes” without waiting for your reply, Jaehyun tugs you into his arm and leave a long, sweet kiss on top of your head while trying his best to go back to sleep.

As soon as you are sure that your husband is sleeping again, you make your way to your walk-in closet that you share with your husband which is literally double the size of your suite master bedroom. You start your day by picking out your outfit, you decided to go with your signature midi gown. Today it is the ruched-sleeve flared midi gown from Self-Portrait alongside your pearl necklace that Jaehyun had gifted you on your wedding night. You have been wearing it every day ever since and it has become your signature style. If you have to say one of the perks of being Jaehyun’s wife, it is the rows and rows of designer brands clothes, jewelries, bags and shoes in your closet. Even though, you got to wear these expensive clothes ever since you were actively working as an actress. The clothes that are presented to you as Jaehyun’s wife are super exclusive and some are made just for you, as it is the Jung family’s rule to look classy and different from others.

You went down the grand staircase towards the kitchen, where your maids and chefs are buzzing making the specified menu for breakfast. The main master of the house, Jaehyun preferred the traditional Kimchi Jigae while the young master Yuno is much more westernized, preferring pancakes with whip crème and fresh fruits for his breakfast. The staffs greeted you warmly, as your extra hand in the kitchen really helps them speed things up in the morning. “Morning everyone, has the organic fresh produce from New Zealand arrive?” you greeted the staff cheerily with a warm smile adorning your face. “Morning Ma’am, yes they have just arrived” said the sous chef. “Great! let us start preparing breakfast for the two masters, shall we?” you laugh lightheartedly. Despite being the Madame of the house, the staffs really thought of you as a very kind, elegant and very understanding lady who treated her staff like her own family. That is the sole reason why they are always loyal and happy to be working in the mansion that are obviously a bit too big for three people to be living in.

Once the breakfast is ready to be served, you went up to your eight years old son’s room to wake him up for school. The white grand door to his room is slightly opened which is odd, considering you make sure to shut it close right after tugging him into bed last night. You tiptoe to his room and peak inside; you heart is thumping heavily and ready to scream at the top of your lungs just in case there is an intruder in the room trying to hurt your baby boy. But what you saw, were totally different from what you have imagined. There on the race car shaped single bed is Jaehyun cuddling with his son under the blanket, Yuno’s head rest calmly on top of his father’s chest while Jaehyun has his arms wrapped around Yuno’s small frame in a protective manner. Your heart immediately settles and warms at the sight in front of you, it pains you to have to break them apart for the sake of getting them up and ready for the day.

You make your way to the bed carefully and sat on the edge of it, you caress your son’s head gently trying to wake him up. “Yuno-ya it’s time to wake up my love” Yuno complains and further cuddle into his dad’s chest, and that wakes Jaehyun up instantly. “You should wake up and get ready for work too love” Jaehyun looks up to you and with a gentle smile he said “I think I would not be able to wake up unless I get a kiss from my queen” his deep dimples glows in the dark, with his cheeky smile that always manage to make you have butterflies in your stomach “what are you going on about Jae, Yuno is here. Stop it and hurry up” Jaehyun gave you a very confused faced that you know damn well as his antics to get what he wants. “I don’t know what you are talking about, my love. kisses or I’ll go back to sleep” with that Jaehyun closes his eyes again, trying to get back to sleep. You know that unless you gave in to what he wants there is no way his going to wake up. You quickly lean down to peck his lips, and once both of your lips touch, Jaehyun took the opportunity to hold you in place by wrapping his arms around your waist. What was supposed to be a simple peck turns into a sweet long kiss where both of you could not help but smile into it. “ewww!! eomma appa!! That is so gross!!” Yuno complains with both of his tiny hands on his eyes trying to block his view of his parents. You broke away from Jaehyun and could not help on pinching Yuno’s chubby cheecks looking at his cute actions. “eomma have to give a kiss to my cute prince Yuno as well, right??” knowing that you are going to smother his face with kisess, Yuno bolted out of bed heading straight to the bathroom to get ready for school. His messy curls bouncing everywhere while he runs. You and Jaehyun could not help but laugh at the sight of your cute son.

Jaehyun came down to the dining area with his son’s tiny hand in his, and you notice that his tie is hanging around his neck undone. “why is your tie undone love?” you make your way to him and naturally tie his tie for him. Jaehyun took this opportunity to hug your waist “I don’t know, I can’t seem to do them this morning. It’s like I suddenly does not know how to do it, thank god my wife is an expert” his face is flushed pink with dimples prominent as ever. You know that was just a lame excuse that Jaehyun make to have you do it for him. You slapped his chest and shake your head with his antics. You carried Yuno to his seat and further assist him with his breakfast. After breakfast, you strap your son’s bag on him and get ready to send him away to school with your assistant. “Yuno-yah, be good in school and listen well to your teachers, okay?” you said while crouching down to your child’s level so you can look into his brown dear like eyes. “eung eomma!” Yuno nods his head cutely and hugs your neck while giving your cheeks a peck. “eomma bye bye!” “bye bye my love”.

While you were getting Jaehyun’s briefcase for him, you reminded him about the new tutor for Yuno that will be moving in soon. “love, the new tutor recommended by your sister will be here today. If you happen to come across her around the house, be gentle and welcoming please” you tried to warn Jaehyun as he has known to be cold with the people that he is not familiar with. “and no more firing tutor without me knowing, do you know how hard it is to find a really good one these days?” you gave a wary eye to Jaehyun which he replied with caresses on your arms “I’ll try my best love, I have to go now. see you tonight, love you” he pecks your forehead and leave for work.

You receive a phone call shortly after that from your sister-in-law Jung Soojung and without any hesitation you pick it up. “Eonni wae? (hey sis, what’s going on)”, “I just want to inform you that Ms Kim Yeri, Yuno’s new tutor is arriving soon. I hope she is the perfect match as I really have to pull some strings to get her for you. Apparently, she graduated from Harvard Law School thus making it super hard to employ her.” Soojung clearly sounded distress on the other line. “ah geuraeyo (ah really) okay I’ll make sure to make her as comfortable as possible, thanks a lot for hiring her for us it really means a lot for Yuno’s future.” You tried your best to express your thankfulness to her so that she will feel assured that her hard work is much appreciated. “anything for my favorite boy, ahh and ask Jaehyun to tone down his temper this is the 3rd time in a month since he fired a tutor.” You sigh.. Jaehyun has a very short temper when it comes to anyone near his family, this man treasures his family more than his life. One wrong step and you are out of the door. “I’ll keep that in mind eonni, he must have his reasons to fire them. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again this time eonni.” You massage your temple, trying your best to really assured your sister-in-law that it will be different this time. “alright, if there’s any problem do not hesitate to call me up kay. I’ll see you around” with that she hangs up the phone on you. Soojung is a very poise, elegant and strict woman and she does not shy away on being hard on you from time to time. It was a struggle to settle with her attitude at first, but once you really got to known her you realize that she is very similar to Jaehyun. Cold on the outside but warm in the inside, explains much on why Jaehyun is super close with the second born of the Jung family. At-least she still treats you decently and warms up to you even if she shares the same hatred as her oldest sister on your background as an actress at first. They deemed you to be too tacky to be a Jung. 30 minutes after the phone call, a staff of the house informed you that the new tutor has arrived. “escort her to my study please” you said warmly to the staff.

While you were seated in your study, the grand door was opened and walks in a woman clad in a red dress coat from Burberry and a matching Kelly bag in hand, her legs are covered with a limited edition red bottoms. How come a professional tutor could effort such expensive items? You thought to yourself. “Annyeonghasaeyo samonim (hello madame), I’m Yuno’s new tutor Kim Yeri imnida” she greets you with a stone-cold expression. “Hello Ms Kim, and welcome to my humble home. Have a seat.” The new tutor took a sit opposite you and proceed to cross her legs. You grimace at the action as you thought of the consequences of having your legs crossed while seated with the seniors of the Jung’s family. The distaste was very much apparent on their faces when you crossed your legs on the very first meeting with the Jung’s. “I guess an actress is very comfortable for having no manners” said Jung Mija who is now known as your mother-in-law. You were clueless on why such comment were thrown at you, until the eldest daughter of the Jung family Jung Sooyeon threw a comment supporting her mother. “I told you eomma, she’s too tacky to be us” while dragging her eyes down to your crossed legs. That was the signal that makes you understand that it is forbidden to have your legs crossed when meeting the Jung’s. Apparently, the Jung’s family motto is to always be as poise and elegant as a Queen thus why it is forbidden for any Jung’s family members to seat with their legs crossed at any occasion.

“I hope chamomile is fine for you Ms Kim.” You said as you pick up your cup of tea. “yes, ma’am I very much appreciate it” Ms Kim took a sip of her tea. “So Ms Kim, I heard a lot of you from my sister-in-law. Apparently, you graduated from Harvard?” “Ah yes, law school to be exact. I went under a top student scholarship program” A staff member knocks on the door signaling that she is coming in to set a tray of biscuits for your guest to enjoy. “I see, you must be a very bright student to be chosen. It was my dream school you know, until I gave it up for my acting career” you continue to laugh light heartedly. “I hope with your credibility, my son could further his studies there too. I mean you’re an alumnus of course you are familiar with the qualities that they want right?” you look up from your cup of tea. “I’ll try my very best ma’am” said the tutor as she sips her cup of tea so elegantly. You noticed that she has a very pretty face, and the red lipstick on her lips really suits her that she could easily won any guy’s heart. “Anyways, my son Yuno is a very gentle kid, he listens to instructions well. So, I hope you can be gentle with him too. But if there are any problems, please contact me immediately.” You smiled gently as you recalled on how soft of a boy your son is. “oh! I am sure my sister-in-law had told you that you would be living with us. Even if I am a housewife, I still have a tight schedule. So, I hope you can cater to Yuno’s from time to time, my assistant will provide you with Yuno’s schedule to help you familiarize with Yuno’s activities”.

Ms Kim has a very unreadable expression that it could even come off as if she is not listening to anything you were saying at all, as she continues to sip her tea. “To begin with, Yuno will be arriving from school at 3 and he will have his snacks at this time. Please make sure that he takes his daily intakes of milk and make sure to warm it up to 70°C. Oh! and please don’t hit it up with the microwave.” You look up to Ms Kim, and notice that she is staring out the floor to ceiling window of your study looking at the Japanese garden. This bothers you a lot as you had hope for her to take some notes, as it really annoys you if someone miss out such important points. “Ms Kim are you not going to take some notes?” you said with a calm expression. Ms Kim turns to look at you and smirk, “that is not necessary, worry not as I have it at the back of my head.” She said smugly which kind of bothers you. “very well then, I hope you don’t forget this. It really bothers me if you do. My assistant will brief you further, but for now make sure that Yuno is refresh before his violin lesson.” As if it was a que, Ms Kim stood up and reach for her bag ready to be escorted out to her living quarters. “Ms Kim, I really love your bag. Some people need to be waitlisted to get it” you said while sipping your tea. Ms Kim who looks surprised quickly replied “it’s a counterfeit ma’am, they have it a lot at the market”. You give her a lopsided smile “I love the coat too; it suits you well” Ms Kim only gave you a half smile as a reply and she proceed to follow a staff to her living quarters”.

It bothers you with the fact that the new tutor comes off a bit cocky and lavish. You recalled when your sister-in-law gave you Ms Kim’s profile, it was never stated that she came from any rich household. In fact, she grew up in an orphanage. You started to become wary as you do not want your son to be near any suspicious people. You decided not to think too much of it and decided to try and trust Ms Kim. After all she is suggested by your trusted sister-in-law. She must have tutored a few other rich kids to be able to afford such lifestyle. At the end of the day, you are paying her a huge amount of money too for this job. Your thoughts are interrupted by a phone call from your eldest sister-in-law Jung Sooyeon, which you kind of having a love and hate relationship with. She makes it clear as a day that she despises you. Furthermore, the fact that your father in law favors you does not sit well with the eldest Jung either.

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

Hello everyone, this is my first attempt on writing so please understand if it is lacking a lot. English is not my first language, sorry if there is any grammar or spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy this story, thank you!

#nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct #jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios

12 notes · View notes

mikasaessucasaa · 3 years

Text

Title: Why do I love you, who doesn’t love me

Summary: Before Peter and Michelle, there was Peter and Gwen, and Michelle had never been jealous of anyone the way she was jealous of Peter.

Michelle and Peter find comfort in each other after the death of the woman they loved

A/N: Title from I Can’t Make You Love Me by KINDA BLUE & Hwa Sa

PART 1

Gwen is the most amazing person that Michelle has ever met and will ever meet. She exudes all that is good in the world. Michelle will never have that kind of goodness in her, will never be as bright and smart, will never be petite and blonde and unawkwardly beautiful. She hates her. She wants to be her. She loves her.

In short, Michelle thought the sun came out of Gwen’s ass.

But there were two problems with Michelle loving Gwen.

The first is that Gwen only thought of her as a friend.

This was made most obvious when Gwen accidentally walked in on Felicia fucking her within an inch of her life with her fingers in a bathroom at a random house party.

It was the first party of their senior year of college, and she had just met Felicia, who was cooler and older and crashing the party to see some friends.

Felicia and Michelle were both more than a little drunk, but Felicia made her feel wanted, feel worthy, with the way that she swallowed in her face and body with her eyes, the way that she kissed like she was drowning and Michelle was air. And when she saw the danger in Felicia’s eyes, it was thrilling.

“MJ!” Gwen had screamed when she opened the door looking for her. She slammed her eyes shut and turned abruptly into Peter’s chest who was too slow (and maybe too dumb) to think of anything but keep staring, his face turning an ugly shade of purple.

And Michelle never came so hard.

When she came to, Felicia was tidying Michelle up, and kissing her goodbye. “See you later, kitty.”

“What the hell Jones, we’ve been looking for you for the last thirty minutes.” Peter hissed, unable to meet her eyes, but she knew he looked, saw as she came, by the red on his face that wouldn’t fade. “Gwen’s been worried sick.”

Her eyes snap to Gwen who looked a little ill, probably from too much alcohol, but maybe because she saw too much of Michelle.

“It’s okay, MJ. I was just worried. Felicia has some nasty rumors around her.” Michelle did too, and she never did anything to deserve them. She started to feel nauseous too. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“I’m fine. Felicia’s like really cool. No need to be such a clam jammer,” she said, but she can’t look them in the eyes. The experience is mortifying and all sorts of heartbreaking.

Later, Felicia would tell her that she had some real issues that she should get fixed.

“You’re fucked up Jones,” Felicia said between drags of her blunt before she passed it onto Michelle.

Michelle took too big of a drag in an effort to move on from this conversation, hoping to get too high to think about this, and started coughing. Felicia looked at her like she knew what she was doing, and she probably did, but she leaned forward from her side of the couch and started making out with Michelle anyways.

Felicia basically taught Michelle about her sexuality. She helped her grow out of her unrelenting awkwardness that she had through her childhood and puberty.

Even though they both had deadbeat dads Felicia somehow made it out of life on top. So Michelle did her best to mimic her, her confidence and bravado, the way she carried herself into a room and the way that everyone stared. It didn’t feel quite right in her skin, but it was better than the worthless, unlovable person she was in high school.

But Felicia was one to talk. So what if she’s in love with her best friend who was straight as an arrow? Michelle knew for a fact that Felicia was a kleptomaniac. And despite her airs, Michelle knew the real Felicia was just as broken as she was. It’s why they’ve stayed with each other so long even though they didn’t love each other. It was better to pretend than to be alone, and she was happy not to be alone with someone as awesome as Felicia.

The second problem was Peter.

From her perspective, Gwen would always be too good for anyone, but especially so with Peter. Peter was lame, rude, and unfortunately reminded her of all the things she hated about herself.

Every negative thing she thought about herself, he emanated with confidence.

She had major trust issues because of her deadbeat dad (he doesn’t know this about her, why would he?). He had major trust issues because everyone around him seemed to die, his parents, his uncle, it was a lot (Peter doesn’t need to tell her because everyone at Midtown knew). She was raised by her aunt. He was raised by his aunt. She was always out late, partying with Felicia. He was always out late doing god knows what.

He was awkward and gangly, and so was she. She thanks whatever higher power there is that she outgrew that, but Peter stayed awkward and gangly even as he filled out in adulthood.

But no matter how flaky and shady Peter was, he was undeniably good. The same kind of good Gwen was. The same kind of good Michelle would never be. You could see it in the way that he smiled, the way that he was selfless to people even if it was unearned, except to her. She could never do that with her natural inclination to distrust, without her feeling fake, without her feeling like someone would take advantage of it, of her.

And thus, Michelle never stood a chance, even if Gwen liked girls like her.

But she’s an idiot.

So when their senior comes and passes by, and all three of them are somehow struggling to find an apartment they can afford with their meager entry level jobs (Michelle doesn't even have that), and they drunkenly come up with the idea that they should all live together, she agrees.

Felicia dips somewhere in the middle of it. They were each other’s favorite hookups when Michelle was in college, but two fucked up people does not make a whole normal person. Besides, Felicia was always too big for the city.

And she loves Gwen, she really does. But she can’t stand Peter. Can’t stand that she might look at him and he might reflect her and be better.

Or maybe it’s the fact that they’re both disgusting as hell when Gwen has to go to London for business trips.

Michelle’s happy that Gwen has a decent, stable job, unlike her and Peter, but she resents her for making them fend for themselves. She’s only gone for a week, and the apartment is a disaster.

There are random articles of clothing everywhere, and she and Peter awkwardly wear the same size and on multiple occasions have accidentally worn each other’s clothes. Between the two of them, they can’t afford much except for the same white t-shirts and hoodies, and his occasional nerdy t-shirts. Gwen deserves better than Peter’s broke ass, but Michelle can’t say she’s any better, and Michelle hates that she even dresses like him.

She comes home and immediately smells something offensive in their mess of an apartment. Dear god, she hopes a rat didn’t freaking die underneath the pile of clothes that for some reason litter the living room. This would never happen if Gwen was home. All she had to do was smile prettily at the both of them, and softly shame them for their bad habits, and they would pick up their messes right away. Gwen has them perfectly wrapped around her cute little fingers.

“Peter!” Michelle yells. It’s four in the afternoon, and she just finished a lunch shift at the diner down the street. She’s exhausted, and she needs to nap in order to get ready for her bottle girl gig at a club in Meatpacking (it’s incredibly demeaning, misogynistic work but it pays significantly more than any other job she wants to get, and she’s got rent to pay).

Peter walks out of the room he shares with Gwen in only his boxers, his rat’s nest of hair sticking up everywhere. It’s unnerving how comfortable he feels in their shared apartment. It’s one thing to feel comfortable with your long-term girlfriend, but did he need to be so comfortable with his sworn nemesis? And he’s never said as much, but she can tell by the way he glared at her all of the time, like now.

She knows for a fact that he tries extra hard to look decent for Gwen. Everything he does is decent for Gwen, and never for Michelle. It doesn’t really bother her because she’s the same. She could care less about anyone else except for Gwen.

“What?” he grumbles as he’s rubbing his stomach, and she can’t help but notice his insanely defined abs — seriously when does he even go to work out? — or the happy trail that leads down, down.

Ugh Michelle, get a grip. It’s definitely been too long since she’s gotten laid if she’s thinking about Peter of all people. And besides, no one should be able to think about sex when it smells this bad in their apartment.

“What is that smell?” she hisses.

He takes a big sniff, and flinches back, only now realizing what she was talking about. The panicked look on his face indicates that he also has no idea.

So she sets down her bag and forgets about her damn nap and helps Peter find the offending smell. They make it to their tiny kitchen, and god it smells so horrible, she might pass out. Something definitely died, and if it’s a rat, then for once maybe she’ll be thankful that Peter’s around.

They find a plastic bag on the counter next to the fridge, and Michelle glares at Peter to open it.

“Why me?” he gripes.

“That is definitely not my grocery bag.”

“It’s not mine either.”

“Then it must be Gwen’s, and as Gwen’s boyfriend then you should definitely deal with it for her.” And she loves Gwen, she would do anything for Gwen. But Gwen’s not even around, and Michelle does not get any relationship benefits to justify dealing with this shit.

Peter tentatively walks to the counter, and Michelle steps back, unable to flee due to her curiosity despite every nerve in her telling her to run. What the hell could cause that smell?

He opens the bag, and Michelle nearly retches on their kitchen floor.

What the fuck.

“Oh gross!” Peter cries out, pinching his nose with one hand, and holding the plastic bag away from him with the other. “Gwen must have forgotten to put away the fish she bought before she left. It’s fucking rotten.”

She gags. This is why she’s vegetarian. “God, don’t tell me that. Throw that shit away! Oh god, the trash shoot is not far enough.” They were right next to it. “Find a dumpster and set it on fire or something nearby!”

Peter’s absolutely disgusted with his task, but he listens like the good boyfriend he is, gets quickly dressed, and throws the bag away.

When he comes back, Michelle has finished bleaching the countertops and spraying the apartment with Febreze. She would have had Peter do it, but she couldn’t stand the lingering smell a second longer.

She plopped down on the couch and covered her face with her hands. The apartment smells like rotten fish, bleach, and Febreze, and it’s absolutely nauseating.

“Want to get pizza?” Peter asks, plopping down next to her.

Without lifting her hands from her face, she asks, “How can you even think of eating right now? It still smells so gross.”

Peter shrugs, “Not here obviously, but isn’t your next shift starting soon?”

Peter may absolutely hate her, but he’s never made a comment about her night-time gig, even when Gwen made concerned statements that were more condescending than helpful. He can even be kind to his nemesis.

She's hungry, and she does have to head down to the club to help set up soon. So she gets dressed in a fitted black dress. It’s cheap, short, and shows all too much skin, but it gets the job done, literally. She puts on a faux-leather jacket, but she knows she still looks like a hooker. But Peter doesn’t even once look at her the way that other people look at her, and it’s nice that he can pretend she doesn’t stand out when they go to the 99 cent pizza place next to their apartment.

She hates him.

#spideychelle #i can't help myself #angst #MCD obviously #happy ending sometime #minor Michelle x Felica #minor Peter x Gwen #slow burn #one sided Michelle x Gwen

2 notes · View notes

jonathanvik · 3 years

Text

Starlight Dream - Chapter 8

“Yes, suffer more!” A girl hiding behind a pillar said, watching her evil plan coming into motion. Emiyo watched from the sidelines expectantly, curious.

Emiyo waited and waited, but still, nobody screamed or howled in pain. She scanned around the packed food court and saw people going about their usual daily lives, laughing and having fun. Everything seemed normal, making Emiyo furrow her brow in confusion.

“Yes! Their suffering is so perfect!” The girl said again, her fairy partner smirking in satisfaction. The girl was a tiny thing, standing shorter than most pre-teen-aged girls. Her hair was bright pink, cut into a quick bob.

“Am I missing something?” Emiyo intensified her search, but found nothing but an average day at the mall.

“I don’t see anyone dead or unconscious.” Nyx flew around, searching for anything out of the ordinary. “It must be so subtle it’s invisible!”

“What, come on!” An annoyed teenage boy with pimples said behind a counter at a burger place. “I just filled that!”

“Hey, what gives? Where’s the ketchup? I’m in a hurry!” A customer said. “My movie starts in ten minutes!”

The boy winced. “Sorry, sir. I’ll get some right away.”

“Victory!” The girl said, her fist pumping upwards.

“Victory in what, exactly?” Emiyo asked behind the girl, who yelped in surprise.

“Emiyo, uh, hi! You aren’t usually out in the field.” Himari said, wearing a nervous grin on her face.

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you!” Liam, her partner, gave a reassuring smile.

“You never answered my question.”

“You know, magical girl stuff!” Himari said. “Causing all the suffering I can.”

Emiyo gestured to the calm food court, her patience thin. “What suffering?”

“Lots of it! We stole all that store’s condiments.” Liam replied. “Remember how annoyed that man was? He might miss the beginning of his movie! Now that employee needs to refill the condiment stand! What a bother, right?”

Himari gave an emphatic nod. “Right! And that worker got yelled at! No one likes that!”

Emiyo fought the urge to rub her temple, feeling a headache coming on. “This is your idea of suffering? Really?! Suffering is having your body crushed and living in never-ending agony. Suffering is losing everyone you’ve ever loved and having nothing to live for. Suffering is living in a nuclear wasteland!”

“That boy seemed pretty miserable to me,” Himari muttered under her breath.

Himari coughed, regaining her confidence. “I think you’re a little confused. I’m actually playing the long game!”

Despite herself, this piqued Emiyo’s interest. Perhaps she’d misjudged the girl?

“Yeah, nuclear wastelands are great and all, but it’s tacky and too easy.” Himari puffed out her chest. “I’m destroying worlds with a thousand cuts!”

“Sorry, what?”

“It’s simple. I’m causing countless small instances of suffering so they’ll build into something greater and more explosive. People will bottle up their frustration until they burst and cause untold havoc!”

Emiyo’s eye twitched. “This is your brilliant plan, really?”

“Totally evil, right?” The girl and her partner gave an emphatic nod.

In her head, Emiyo’s headache intensified. “No wonder the suffering levels in your universes have only increased by .00000000001 percent.”

“I’m playing the long game.”

“For two hundred years?!”

“The very long game.”

You incompetent little! Emiyo wanted to throttle the girl but kept professional calm. An outburst would be unseemly. “If this is the caliber of sector 8’s magical girls, no wonder the suffering levels haven’t increased much.”

Of sector 8’s magical girls, Himari is one of the few remaining who still lived. Emiyo had found the others dead, killed by the rebel. Why didn’t she save Emiyo the trouble and kill Himari too? It’d be so easy!

“Look, I’m currently assessing the entirety of Sector 8. When I get back, your universes’ suffering better increase by at least twenty percent!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just accelerate my plans somewhat.” Himari pulled out a small vial, smirking. “I plan to put this into the water supply!”

Hope sparked in Emiyo’s heart. Poisoning water was an excellent way to spread fear and panic!

“It makes the water taste funny. Not horrible, but still unpleasant.” Himari said. “It will force people to buy bottled water instead! What a needless expense, right?”

Emiyo put her face into her hands and screamed.

---

Takako howled in pain as her opponent tossed her onto the padded mat.

“Are you okay?” Seina asked, concerned.

“No, it’s fine.” She said, rubbing her bruised arm. Even without her magical girl powers, Seina hit like a truck. Takako returned to her feet, determined to go again. Her pride refused to leave until she’d scored several points against her rival.

“Darn it.” Takako cursed as her back struck the padded floor once again. “I’m much quicker than you. Yet, you keep beating me!” Somehow, the girl seemed more like a wall than a person, deflecting back everything Takako threw against her.

“That’s because you aren’t sticking with what I’ve been teaching you.” Mr. Kiyojiro said. “You always go for the dirty move rather than the practical one.”

“But it’s totally predictable and lame!” Takako waved a dismissive hand. “Not my style at all.”

Seina smiled. “I suppose, but you always leave yourself wide open. You aren’t working on your defense enough.”

Takako turned away. “Whatever. My genius is too brilliant for you to understand.”

Seina sighed, but a slight smile appeared on her lips. “Okay, Maeko. Fine. Want to go again?”

“Always, best out five?”

Despite her best efforts, Seina still won most exchanges, moving with lighting precision. Yet, Takako didn’t mind it. Instead, it only pushed her to work harder. She hadn’t been this excited in decades. Usually, she found her magical girl duties dull, but she enjoyed the challenge Seina presented. The fighting made her feel alive. It’d be a shame when Seina inevitably died in days ahead, but Takako would enjoy her company until then. They chatted as they walked across town, enjoying the scenery. People were working hard to rebuild, invigorated with a new purpose after the vampire’s fall. Despite herself, their grit and determination impressed Takako.

“Is that the new school?” Aiko looked down towards the skeleton of a building from their vantage point.

Seina flinched. “Yes, Lotus High School.”

“No way! The Prime Minister named a school after you?” Aiko beamed with pride.

“Yeah,” Seina replied, with little enthusiasm. “They wanted to call it Kamiyama High School, but I vetoed that idea. And the statue.”

Aiko rolled her eyes. “Please, you deserve some recognition! You saved the world!”

“I guess.” Seina said, still unhappy. Uncle Kenji is adamant I should attend it once it’s finished. Isn’t that the worst, going to a school named after you?”

“Don’t worry, I'll be by your side if anyone bugs you about it.” Aiko puffed out her chest. “Never thought I’d ever attend high school. I’m so looking forward to it. Do you think it’ll be anything like those mangas Maeko likes?”

“I hope so,” Seina said. “Clubs, romance, lunch on the roof, meeting with friends every day. It sounds nice.”

Takako rolled her eyes. The dullest, most ordinary things always infatuated Aiko and Seina. What next? Wanting to attend cram school too? Even thinking about it gave Takako bad memories.

“How about you, Maeko?” Aiko said. “What are you looking forward to in high school?” The two girls looked at her expectantly.

Shows what you know. I’m too old to care about things like high school! She paused, realizing, despite being several hundred years old, she’d never attended high school. Soon, both Seina and Aiko would have a much higher education level than her. Takako had run away from home long before high school age. Not that she cared, of course. Takako was smart enough without it.

“Eh, seems boring if you ask me,” Takako said, not impressed..

“How can you say that after the vampires basically starved us of any education?” Seina said, irritated. “I had to learn basic reading and math in secret! Uncle Kenji had to risk his life to teach me how to add!”

Takako took a step back, surprised by the usually meek girl’s angry outburst. “Okay, okay. Sorry,”

“I’m sorry too.” Seina said.” I lost my temper. It just frustrates me what basic things the vampires denied us. We were just things to them, not even people!”

“I know what you mean,” Aiko said, nodding. “But the vampires can’t stop us now! Humanity can’t be stopped!”

“Right! Oh, I can’t wait for high school to start!” Seina said dreamily. “Mr. Kiyojiro’s tutoring is great, but I want to learn from a real teacher! Uh, no offense, Mr. Kiyojiro.”

“I’m not offended.” Mr. Kiyojiro said, finally joining the conversation. “Teaching from random textbooks is awkward.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not a great teacher.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. Any chance to learn!” Seina replied, trying to reassure her bodyguard and tutor. “You’re doing an excellent job teaching me Japanese. It’s my favorite subject. And I’m not too shabby at English either.”

“Private tutor, you’re lucky. I just wish I could understand half of my lessons.” Aiko rolled her eyes. “Ms. Inouye still hasn’t created a coherent study plan yet.”

“Hey, the adults are working hard to teach you youngsters.” Mr. Kiyojiro said. “A few kinks in the plan aren’t unexpected. You’ve already lost too many years. How can you become proper adults without the proper education?”

“No argument here.” Aiko said, and Seina nodded.

“Sure, but being a proper adult means getting a job and paying taxes and rent.” Takako said, piping in.

Mr. Kiyojiro coughed into his fist. “Well, yes. But, that’s part of growing up. You can’t stay a child forever.”

“Except, Seina will stay a child forever,” Takako said, pointing out the flaw in the bodyguard’s logic.

“Not in my heart. I can get a job anyway!” Seina said, retorting the point.

“You actually want a job?” Takako asked in disbelief. It sounded like such a needless bother. “You’re a magical girl! There’s nothing stopping you from doing whatever you want.”

“Yes, actually,” Seina replied, puffing out her chest. “I’ll still be an adult, even if I appear ten!”

Colten’s eyes lit in awe. “You’re so responsible, Seina!”

Takako snorted. “Stupid if you ask me.”

“Trust me, Maeko,” Seina said. “Being a magical girl isn’t as appealing as it sounds.”

“Whatever. Well, I better get going.” After all that hard training, Takako wanted to gorge herself on shaved ice and watch some anime.

“Later!” Seina and Aiko waved as she left.

“You’re too comfortable with those two,” Lilha said from an alleyway. “You’d almost think you’d become friends.”

“Friends? Not likely.” Takako was too evil and hardhearted for such nonsense.

“Good,” Lilha replied. “Come. There are matters we need to discuss. It won’t be long until we’re ready.”

“You’re acting already? I’ve barely learned anything. Mr. Kiyojirois still teaching us the basics!”

Lilha raised an eyebrow. “Are we meant to wait years while you play with Seina?”

“We are both immortal.” For someone who was ageless, Lilha certainly was impatient. “Is it that important for you to return to your nightmare world?”

“We are vampires. We rule.”

“Okay, but why ban schools? Why make children work 70-hour weeks?” Takako couldn’t resist asking these questions any further.

“The humans needed to know their place. My husband was always adamant about grinding them down as much as possible.”

“Why? Aren’t these policies more likely to cause humanity’s extinction?”

“It wouldn’t get that far. We’d keep them alive. They are our pets.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why?”

“You’re a magical girl. It’s your job to make people suffer.” Lilha gave her a pointed look, making Takako hesitate. It was true. Why was she caring about this?

“Well?”

“Have you lost your nerve? Don’t you hate Siena as deeply as I do? I’ve seen how she humiliates you. Are you happy always being her inferior?”

Takako stood straighter. “I’m the strongest. Always will be. We will kill Seina.”

“Good. I see no further use in having you train with Seina. You’ve learned enough. I fear you’re getting too cozy with her. It’s time we enact our plan.” Lilha shone with excitement. “By tomorrow, Seina Kamiyama will be dead!”

Takako nodded, realizing her doubts were foolish. This was what they’d agreed upon. She glanced back, watching Seina talking and laughing with her friends without a care in the world. It left a strange bitterness in Takako’s heart. But no, for the sake of the magical girls and Starlight Dream, Seina’s death was necessary. After giving the girl a final look, Takako focused on the task at hand. No more useless doubts or distractions.

---

“A day out? Sounds great!” Seina said. Mr. Kiyojiro had given them the day off, and they were debating how to best spend it.

Aiko beamed. “I know this cute little place that’s becoming really popular. It’s super trendy!”

“Clothes shopping?” Colten sighed from his perch on Seina’s head. “Okay.”

Seina patted her fairy friend on the head. “It won’t be long, then we’ll get some ice cream.”

Colten perked up. “Really?”

Aiko snorted in amusement. “You spoil him too much. Yes, I promise it’ll be quick. I haven’t forgotten you, Colten. I have some activities planned for you too. There’s this street performer I heard about that might interest you. He does Kamishibai.”

Colten’s eyes lit in excitement. It also piqued Seina’s interest. Since DVD players and working TVs were still rare, the art form had reemerged on Osaka’s streets to entertain people. Though because of her training, she hadn’t caught one yet. The art form used still pictures accompanied by the performer, who narrates the story. Her fairy partner bounced on her head, unable to contain his excitement, making Seina giggle.

“Kamishibai?” Maeko said, showing genuine interest. “I haven’t seen one of those in forever.” Mr. Kiyojiro nodded in agreement, also genuinely interested.

Seina blinked. “Really? How?” The vampires were strict about punishing anyone who dared defy their edicts. Even singing could get you killed. Maeko’s past was so bizarre. Did her taskmaster even do his job?

Maeko coughed into her fist. “When I was really young. You know, before the vampires.”

Seina nodded, embarrassed by her misunderstanding. Unfortunately, most of her memories before the darkness were scarce and blurry. Worse, they consisted of people she’d rather not consider. Their presence tainted her childhood worse than anything the vampires had done. It sent blazing furious hatred through her and almost brought tears to her eyes. Why had her parents’ betrayal hurt her so much? Despite trying to forget them, thoughts of them returned at random moments, hurting her all over again. Sensing his partner’s distress, Colten rubbed her back, calming her.

“Are you okay?” Maeko said, worried by Seina’s sudden change in mood.

“It’s fine.” Her parents didn’t matter anymore. Besides, she had a new family and they wouldn’t hurt her as they had.

“There’s this ramen stand that recently opened up. I’d like to try. Would you mind having lunch there?” Mr. Kiyojiro said.

“Sounds great. Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?” Seina felt guilty for dragging her bodyguard around town without his input. Was he as bored by girls shopping as Colten was? But Mr. Kiyojiro only waved his hand, indicating his wishes didn’t matter. After some consideration, Seina decided she’d at least allow him to pick where they’d eat supper too.

“I have a suggestion.” Maeko had been quiet throughout the entire conversation, drawing everyone’s attention. “Before going anywhere else, there’s this manga shop nearby I’d like to try. I heard it sells brand new manga. I’m curious if the rumors are true.”

“Sounds fun.” Aiko replied. “It will give Colten something to read while he’s waiting!”

Brand new manga? That sounded interesting. It brought a smile to Seina’s heart. Little by little, humanity was reclaiming their lives. The vampire’s reign was becoming a distant memory.

“Is this the right place?” Aiko glanced around, eying their surroundings with curiosity. They’d entered a part of Osaka that still remained mostly abandoned. The streets were empty, but Seina couldn’t help but feel she was being watched. Yet, when she looked, she spotted no one around. Odd.

“Just down this alley, and we’ll be there,” Maeko said, pointing towards a colorful sign that showed the shop’s name, Shinobu Manga Emporium. Seina peeked down the alley and saw an open door, seeing shelves of colorful manga ready for purchase.

A sense of wrongness overcame Seina, and she stopped her step. The feeling of being watched intensified, but she still couldn’t locate its source. Aiko picked on her anxiety.

“Is something the matter?” Aiko glaced around, a worried expression on her face.

Maeko snorted. “Nothing’s the matter. It’s just a manga shop.”

She gave her bodyguard a meaningful look, and he nodded in agreement. He’d also sensed the prevailing wrongness. “How about we go somewhere else? This place seems kinda sketchy.” Before Maeko could offer a retort, Seina jumped aside as a humongous axe flew towards where her head had been a moment earlier. It flew past and crashed into a nearby building leveling it with a resounding crash.

A large vampire emerged from literally nowhere, brandishing an axe almost larger than his body. “You got lucky. Next time I won't miss.” Several more muscular vampires emerged, surrounding them. Aiko screamed in terror and hid behind Seina.

Maeko rubbed her temple. “Jentin, you idiot! Your eagerness alerted her to the trap. Never mind. We do this the hard way instead!” Much to Seina’s shock, her friend pulled out a brooch similar to hers. “Change Change, Magical Love Genocide Dress Up!”

What the heck was happening? The veil of illusion disappeared, revealing a face she hadn’t expected. “Takako?”

The dark magical girl smirked. “Is it that shocking? Now be a good girl and die.” She pointed her black pistol point-blank towards Seina’s midsection and fired

#starlight dream #parody #humor #anime #anime stories #vampires #story #stories #written story #fiction #Adventure #magical girl

2 notes · View notes

rollingthunderthighs · 4 years

Text

Daredevil - Haikyuu x Reader

Summary: Tanaka (y/n), younger sister of Tanaka Ryunosuke! You’ve been watching your brother play volleyball since you both we just kids. You found your own passion, which you quickly gave up on due to... reasons. It happened halfway through your last year of middle school, then having to go to Ryu’s practices after school to wait to walk home with him. After spending your last year along side him and the team, you’ve come to cherish your time with Karasuno’s Volleyball Club. Now that you’re entering high school, you decided you wouldn’t go back to the past and stick with your new found interest; to help Kiyoko with managing the team of lovely crows! However, these other first years are something else; will you be able to handle them? Will you be able to handle your over protective brother? Most importantly, can you find your own wings while helping the others fly high? The past can’t stayed buried forever after all.

Pairings: Karasuno First Years x Reader; Kei Tsukkishima x Reader; Tadashi Yamaguchi x Reader; Tobio Kageyama x Reader; Shoyo Hinata x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

MASTERLIST

-----

Chapter 1 - First Day Back

-----

“Oni-chan,” you sigh, irritated at your brother as he put his jacket on, “Can you hurry up?”

Your brother simply waved you off, glancing at you with sleep still prominent in his eyes. You sigh again, louder just so he could hear it.

You love Ryu, you do, but having to deal with him in the morning was nothing short of a pain; he was always half asleep, always slow. Half of the time you would start to walk without him, having to contain an eye roll as he’d run to catch up with you. Even though he was a year older than you, he had insisted on being a good big brother and walking you to Oujitsu Middle. However, now that was all different, you were finally attending Karasuno along with him so he didn’t have to worry about taking you to school and running to his own.

Once he finally decided to move his lazy ass, you both left the house with silent goodbye to your sleeping elder sister. You smooth your skirt, glaring at him from the corner of your eye.

“Oni-chan, it’s my first day you know, you could’ve tried to put in a little more effort to leave early so we wouldn’t be late.”

“Ah, sorry (y/n)-chan. It’s just hard to wake up in the mornings, yanno?” He yawns loudly, arms raised high as he stretches.

“Maybe you should go to bed sooner, instead of kissing photos of Kiyoko-senpai all night long-”

“Hah, shut up punk I do not!”

He threw his arms around you, trapping you against his chest as he brought a hand up to give you a noogie.

“RYU YOU JERK, LET ME GO!”

“THEN DON’T MAKE OF YOUR AWESOME BIG BROTHER!”

You swat his hands away as he laughs at the mess of your hair.

“Ne, that’s a good look for you, (y/n)-chan~” He teases.

“You’re worse than nee-chan.”

He shudders at the mention of your guys’ sister, and you take that moment while he’s distracted to strike; you smack the back of Ryu’s shaven head, the sound loud and sharp.

“Ouch, what the hell!?” He whines, rubbing his head tenderly.

“That’s what you get,” you huff, fixing your appearance before sticking your tongue out at him, “not my fault you decided to go bald, jerk-suke!”

“You’re so lame, nerd-(/n),” he grunts, shoving you lightly as the gates appear in your line of sight, “Now get to class before I kick your ass. You want help on where to go, need me to walk you?”

He stops at the gate in hopes you’d accept, but pouts as you continue walking and wave him off.

“Nope, I’m good. Thanks anyway, oni-chan, I’ll see you after school.”

“We’re practicing at the gym right after!” He yells out, sighing as you only wave him off once more.

Tanaka clicks his tongue, a little worried about you, but overall knowing you’d be fine. With what happened after last year, he felt bad that you felt as if you had to stick with him at his own club, but if that’s what you wanted then he wouldn’t push it.

As long as you were happy, he didn’t care; it also helped that he wouldn’t have to worry anymore, knowing you’d be a couple feet away.

After walking away from your brother, you head up to the board to see the class lists posted, trying to find your class. You spot your name on the roster and head towards class four, still a little in shock of how you made it to the college prep class, your exam scores not only shocking you but the rest of your family. Your two older idiot siblings had always managed to just barely scrape together passing scores; well you had to give Saeko some credit, she was in college after all-even if she really didn’t care about her core classes.

You got to your class with no problems, but were somewhat dreading the idea of walking in since you expected it to be somewhat full with classes starting soon. You weren’t late, per say, but you were by no means early.

‘Thanks oni-chan.’ You think bitterly, sighing as you slide the doors open.

To your frustration, your assumption was correct; the classroom was already full of first years, and you had to hold back an irritated groan as all the good spots were taken. Glancing around, you spot a seat that was going to have to be the next best thing for now; it was somewhat towards the back of the class, the next seat over from the window-the seat you truly wanted. Slipping off your bag from your shoulder, you hang it on the hook beneath your proclaimed desk as you sit down with a gentle breath of relief.

Light music catches your attention, moving your head ever-so-slightly to peer at the boy sitting next to you. His headphones were playing loud music, the genre hard to catch as it was muffled just enough to leave the people around him wondering what it could be. You take in his appearance, short blond locks and thin framed glasses that hid his eyes; he was also pretty tall, even though he was sitting down you could tell. He looked as bored as you knew you were going to be as the day progressed-

Hell, you were already bored and the day hasn’t even started yet.

You had intended to turn away right after the initial glance, when his sharp gaze met your own; you had been taken aback by that single look, his face remaining unchanging but those now visible amber eyes overflowing in emotion.

The contrast intrigued you.

You purse your lips, overall unaffected by his stare, before turning to look back towards the front of the classroom. A grunt of distaste fills your ears, and you bite your tongue to hold in a retort. You continue to tell yourself to ignore him, not wanting to get caught up in drama on the first day.

Your eyes unintentionally flutter back over to the boy as his music comes out crisper, his headphones sliding off his head to rest on his shoulders.

It wasn’t like you were trying to stare, it was just the music had caught your attention..

So when his eyes instantly caught your gaze again, eyes now a harsh glare, you knew that you wouldn’t avoid the drama this time.

“What do you want.”

You raise a brow, his voice sounding calm despite the look on his face.

“Nothing?”

“Then, could you stop looking at me.” His tone turned upbeat, a sickly sweet smile on his face.

You wanted to gag at how fake it was.

You click your tongue instead, giving him a once over before staring straight back into his eyes with your own steady gaze. You weren’t going to lose this, whatever it was.

“Then could you keep it down next time? I, and I’m sure anyone else, wouldn’t want to look at you without reason. Thanks.” You shoot him the same fake smile he gave you.

You saw his smile falter, and you just stare, amused at his crumbling facade.

“You must’ve had a good reason then, since this wasn’t the first look, midget.”

“Hah,” you both glare at each other, the tension rising, “you’ve got some nerve-”

“Nerve, smarts, height. Everything you don’t.”

You felt your face contort, knowing your inner Tanaka-special-look was shining through. This guy looked anything but intimidated, looking down at you with amusement instead.

“Seems like I have all the looks too, what an ugly face you’re making there, chibi-chan. Is that why you’ve been staring at me, hm?”

The anger coursed through your body, about to push yourself to stand when a brunette sitting in front of the blond turned around, waving his arms.

“Tsukki, you shouldn’t tease like that,” he glanced at you with a shy smile, “S-sorry about that, please don’t take any offence.”

You raise a brow in question, looking at both boys before sighing out as you settled into your seat again. Your gaze turns from the freckled boy, who looked distressed and exasperated all at once, and towards the blond asshole to your left.

“Tch, make sure you keep your sass to yourself, Tsukki.”

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped, and you only snicker at his frustration.

“Or what? What are you going to do, Tsukki-chan~.”

The sensei walked in right after, cutting off anything he was going to say.

It was always to get the last word in, especially when you got looks like that; amber eyes burning in annoyance.

-----

The rest of class went by without a hitch; the welcoming ceremony was held right after lunch, and you felt yourself snickering as you saw the-painfully obvious-wig atop your vice’s head. However unfortunately, you were forced to stand next to Tsukki, being his desk neighbor and all.

“You laugh at the most idiotic things, chibi-chan. You must only have a few functioning brain cells.” He gave a smug smile.

“Oi, do you ever shut up? Attention wh-”

“Y-you guys might want to quiet it down..” Yamaguchi, as you learned during the lunch period you spent with them, whispered from in front of the both of you.

You had decided to stay in your seat for lunch and, to your dismay, the grumpy blond giant and his friend had the same idea. You didn’t want to hurt your pride by seeming like a coward, so you stayed in your seat and faced him head on instead of getting up and running away.

The entire lunch period was full of insults and fighting between the both of you, to which poor Yamaguchi had tried to defuse. You realized you liked the brunette, he was nice-maybe a little dumb considering he was friends with the asshole, but nice. Although, he did join in on throwing some teases your way, but you thought they were more cute than anything. He had blushed when you said it out loud, and you could only laugh at his flustered expression.

“Ah, sorry Yamaguchi-kun.” You sigh loudly, causing other students to look at the scene.

Yamaguchi flushed at the attention, turning back to the speeches as Tsukkishima huffed another insult under his breath; an insult you gracefully ignored, not wanting to get in trouble on your first day for yelling in the auditorium.

-----

Once the academic school day ended, you felt a slight amount of excitement shoot through your body, knowing your brother had practice and you’d get to see everyone again. As soon as the bell rang you sprung out of your seat, rushing down to the changing rooms and changing into one of your old track suits. You brought it with you because you really didn’t feel like wearing the schools, plus this one was much cuter anyways.

You hadn’t worn it in a while, not since..

You shake your head, pushing those old memories from your mind as you head down to the club room, hoping to find your brother, but spotting someone even better.

“Suga-kun!” You wave excitedly as he comes down the stairs.

His shocked expression quickly turns into a smile as you meet him at the bottom.

“My my, (y/n)-chan,” he laughs while pinching your cheek, “It’s been a while hasn’t it, look at you!”

You blush at his antics, brushing his hand off with a giggle. Sugawara had been kind to you from day one, even though you were just the little sister who sat in the gym while waiting for her brother to finish practice. He, along with the rest of the team, welcomed you with open arms.

You only met them halfway along in the school year, the first part spent at your old club activities in middle school, until that happened.

Ever since that day you had to go wait for your brother at Karasuno, instead of him picking you up from practice, so you quickly had to get used to all the crazy yet wonderful people you met;

Which is why you were finally glad to be back, being surrounded by really amazing people, no one with false intentions.

“Suga-kun, that hurts!”

He laughs again, only to be cut off by a loud whine.

“(y/n), why don’t you ever smile at me like that. I’m your brother, not Suga-san!” Ryu pouts, walking down the steps with the captain, your eyes widening at the sight of him while you ignore your brother.

“Daichi-kun!”

Diachi laughs at Ryu’s deflated look, walking over and placing a hand on your head.

“Long time no see, trouble-maker,” his laughter stops as he looks at you closely, a teasing smile appearing on his face, “Say, have you grown since last time?”

You place your hands on your hips, grinning cheekily.

“You noticed huh, I’ve grown a few cm, now I’m officially 155cm!”

Your happiness was cut short when Suga and Daichi raised a hand to stifle their laughter, and you pushed off the hand resting atop your head.

“Don’t laugh, you asked!”

“Ah poor little sister, you got stuck with the short genes.”

“I’m almost as tall as nee-chan-”

“You’re both short, (y/n).”

“Says the loser who can’t even reach 180cm!”

“Oi-”

“Alright you two, knock it off,” Daichi chuckled, lightly bopping you on the head while being a little more forceful to your brother, “Let’s get going. You ready for your first actual year being a club member, kiddo?”

“Oh yea, now I get to actually actively help instead of being forced to listen to oni-chan yelling with nothing to distract me.”

“Hey-”

“I bet Kiyoko will be thrilled to have you this year too.” Suga smiled, cutting off your brother who just grumbled angrily under his breath.

You all were making your way to the gym when Daichi pulled out a few papers from his club jacket.

“I agree, hopefully the new recruits won’t stop by too late, we have an interesting person joining after all.”

“Oh? Who would that be?” Suga questioned.

“The one kid we saw at the middle school matches, Kageyama Tobio.”

“The first setter of Kitagawa is going to join the team?”

“Huh? But, that guy is totally cocky.” Ryu sneered, thinking back to the matches he saw him in.

You remember the kid briefly, going with your brother and the other two to the games. Kitagawa was a powerhouse middle school, most of those kids ended up going to other powerhouse high schools, which wasn’t Karasuno.

Yet.

“He was pretty good though, from what I could tell,” you chime in, “I’m just surprised someone like him didn’t go to some high-end school in the prefecture. He seemed like he could totally get in.”

“Look at you,” Ryu cooed, trying to bring you into a noogie, “Thinking you know all about volleyball and the skills~”

“I know some things, idiot!”

“Quit it you two.”

“Okay…” You both agreed, knowing how scary the third year captain could be when he wanted to be.

“You better not try to intimidate the Kitagawa kid either, okay Tanaka.” Suga teased, changing the subject back to the matter at hand.

“I-I wouldn’t do something like that.” He grumbled, causing you to snicker.

“Ha, yea oni-chan-”

“You either, (y/n)-chan. You can be just as bad.”

Now it was your turn to pout and grumble while your brother laughed at you.

The gym doors were already open to your surprise, after getting the proper footwear on and heading inside, you spot two kids you haven’t seen before.

“Hello.” The taller male exclaims, and you snap your fingers together as you realize he was the kid you were just talking about.

“It’s him.”

“Oi, oi, oi, who said you could waltz in here-”

Your brother was cut off as Daichi grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking him backwards.

“You’re Kageyama, right?”

“Osu.” Kageyama agrees, standing straight and still as the boys approach him.

You stay behind them, only looking out from the back of your brother. You take in his features, and notice how intimidating he looked up close; he was tall-taller than Daichi even, eyes holding a sharp concentration, and as you glanced at his lips pulled in a taut line, you wondered if he could smile. A flash of orange caught your attention, glancing behind Kageyama to see another student sneaking besides the others. He starts to head over behind your friends, towards you, and doesn’t notice you until he’s standing almost directly beside you. He glances over and jumps, red spreading across his face as he yells out a greeting.

“H-hello!”

The others were too engrossed in their conversation, so you smiled politely back and gave him a small nod in greeting.

“Hello-”

“HELLO!” He shouts again louder, another shy blush spreading across his cheeks as he repeats himself once more. You laugh, catching the attention of the boys and they look at you.

“Huh, who are-OH, YOU!” Ryu shouts and points, causing Hinata to squeak and back away from you.

“M-me?”

“SHORTY NUMBER ONE!”

“You’re the other applicant, Hinata Shoyo.. I’m a little surprised.” Daichi smacks your brothers hand away, giving a welcoming smile to Hinata.

“Uh.. hm?” He bites his lip, confused.

“Oh,” you point at him suddenly, causing the blush to come back as he jumped back even further, “you’re the orange who jumped super high!”

The captain and vice held back snickers at the name, but it just made Hinata grow tongue tied.

“I-I, uh, huh?”

“We saw your match last year.” Suga clarified.

“You’re way short, and sucked pretty bad. But you’ve got guts, yanno?” Tanaka nodded.

“Ah, thanks!” Hinata grinned, beaming at the attention.

“Your jumps were awesome, right (y/n)-chan?”

“Right,” you agree with Suga, an excited gleam in your eye, “it was sooo cool to see! You looked like you were flying!”

“TH-THANKS!”

“But it looks like you haven’t grown so much since then,” Ryu measured out with his hand, “At least he’s taller than you, (y/n).”

“Oi, I’m not that short-”

“I may be little, but I can jump,” Hinata interjected, looking at the three members before looking at you, “I’ll become Karasuno’s ace!”

You flush at the way his eyes stared determinedly stare into your own.

“Ace huh..”

“Oi, oi… The newbie says he’s going to be the ace? Making that declaration to my sister no less, what are you getting at, you’ve got some nerve, boy.” Tanaka’s face twists into something scary, glaring down at the boy who froze up, slowly turning his head to make eye contact with your brother.

“S-s-sister? I-UH, I-I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE, UM, LIKE THAT!” He waves his arms in a panic.

“It’s good to be ambitious, right?” Suga swoops in to save the kid from further embarrassment.

Hinata sighed, agreeing and apologizing at the same time.

“Hey,” Kageyama’s voice pierces the conversation, “If you want to be the ace, I hope you’ve improved. If you goof around, you’ll waste another three years.”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

They began to fight, bickering back and forth about growth and how neither one has been wasting their time. Hinata lost his happy-go-lucky aura and Kageyama’s face was even scarier, each glaring at each other with just as much loathing. You were now standing between your brother and captain, hearing the latter sigh as he tried to diffuse the situation. You gulp down your nerves as they cut him off, watching how Daichi’s smile grew tight and his eyebrows furrowed.

Oh lord, here it comes.

“Oi, Daichi-san is talking to you!”

“Yeah, you should listen to your captain, yanno!” You throw in your two cents after your brother, only to feel annoyed when they both ignored you.

“What’s the commotion, volleyball club?”

You freeze, slowly turning your head to see the vice principal walking inside the gym.

“Yikes, the vice!” You and Ryu gasp.

“Sensei.” Suga hastily corrects you both.

“S-sensei.. Right.”

You purse your lips together, looking down at the court hoping you can this time contain your laughter.

“You’d better not be fighting.”

The duo, who were totally not fighting, had paused momentarily as the vice walked towards the crowd.

“Of course not,” Daichi gave the man a convincing grin, motioning to the two first years, “just a little friendly rivalry, right?”

“Hey, the vice likes to make trouble for us, so keep it down.” Tanaka Hisses, and you nod along while raising your hand to your mouth to mimic your brother.

“You don’t want the club to get in trouble now right?”

Hinata’s brown eyes lock on yours and he nods meekly. You let out a smile, glad he was finally calming down, when Kageyama tsk’s and gives Hinata an ugly look. You sigh, looking over at the taller boy to see a dark look on his face, it was almost scary.

“Server! And I’ll return them all!”

You facepalm as Hinata took the bait, your brother raging at them from beside you, the tension growing thick in the gym. The vice wasn’t amused as they continued fighting, if the sharp glance he gave to Daichi was any indication anyway.

The two idiots went to serve and receive, and you could only watch an awe as Kageyama went to do a jump serve. Sure, this wasn’t the time for such things, but not many people you knew could do a jump serve, it was cool to watch one up close. The force he used to smack the ball was plentiful, jaw dropping as Hinata barely dodges and the sound echoes when the ball makes contact on the floor.

Hinata stands back up, yelling for another when Daichi tells them to knock it off, only to be ignored again. You knew it was coming, hopefully the vice would leave soon so you could watch Daichi blow up on them with front row tickets-

You gasp as the ball, the second attempt that Hinata didn’t dodge, smacked against his arms, flew up into his face, before ricocheting off and hitting the vice square in the face. It was as if time slowed down, the ball hitting the vice’s cheek, his head snapping with enough force to pop his wig into the air. You watched, eyes glued to the head piece that went up and up till it came down, landing straight on-

Your lips part to laugh, thankfully Sugawara noticed and slapped his hand over your mouth to stifle the bellows you wished to release. Everyone stood frozen in shock as the hair piece landed atop the one and only, Daichi.

“He was wearing a wig?” Kageyama muttered, eyes blown open wide.

“You just noticed?” Hinata snickers, amused at the sight.

“You guys,” Ryu was trying to hush his own giggles, “shut up!”

“Tanaka, you shut up too!” Suga scolds, hand still on your mouth as you shake from silenced laughter.

“Sawamura-kun, I’d like a word with you.”

Once they left the gym, Suga let you go only to have you clutch your sides in laughter. Your brother was no better, practically passed out on the floor as tears escaped his eyes. The scene replayed itself over and over in your mind, the lack of oxygen making you woozy. However, as soon as you heard a chuckle coming from Hinata, you Tanaka siblings stopped laughing.

“That was sure stupid of you,” Ryu cracks his knuckles, giving his scary face, “you’re going to regret not listening to Daichi-san.”

Hinata looks to you for help, surprising you, but you just shrug.

“Oni-chan is right, you’ve done it now. Good luck you two.”

“Wait, why am I going to be punished for something he did!?” Kageyama glares at you, and you shudder slightly.

There was no reason to be upset at you, but the way he was looking at you caused you to look away nervously.

“You both were the issue.” Ryu huffs, arms crossing to give his own glare at the taller first year.

“This is all your fault!”

“Huh, me!?”

The boys began to argue, leaving Ryu to shake his head and Suga to rub his temple with an exasperated smile.

What a fun first day back, you can’t wait to see what else was to come.

106 notes · View notes

moonblssm · 4 years

Text

everyday job au | any member

listen to — Friday, I’m In Love by The Cure

、firefighter!stray kids

the youngest firefighter of the county

followed after his dad and older brother’s footsteps - he and his brother are in the same squadron; his dad is retired

the team’s dalmatian named otis is actually the family dog and likes him the most

he isn’t the best or worst at cooking, but his food is always praised because everyone thinks his effort is so cute

seven out of ten times they go on a call and after they save people and stop the actual fires, people from the surrounding area tend to crowd at the barrier to get a good look at him

he is part of the team that always gets hired for birthday parties and is the one that kids always cling to

always wraps his arms around the kids when he helps them spray water from the hose

you had actually met him because of this

you were new to the town, so you decided you should go out and walk your dog to take a look around the town

the next thing you know, a stream of water comes flying over the red firetruck parked in the driveway of the station and blasts you on the sidewalk

his head whips up when he hears little shouts from the other side of the truck

oh my gosh, i just sprayed someone with the hose

gently - but quickly - taking the hose from the birthday girl, he immediately turns off and drops the hose to run and check on what had happened

there, he finds you, drenched from head to toe, checking on the young husky at your side who had also gotten slightly wet from the hose - the pup had seemed happy instead of startled of the spray

oh my gosh, that someone is extremely adorable

you tell him you’re okay when he asks, gently grabbing you by the forearms to help you up

“oh my, i’m so sorry.”

something about the way the man in front of you gazes down into your eyes has you charmed, and you can’t help but nervously laugh when you object his offer to bring you into the station for a change of clothes

however, he insists, and before you know it, you’re sitting in the office in front of a heater with a towel wrapped around your shoulders

the heat contrasting from the cold water feels nice against your skin, and you snuggle further into it

you watch as he runs back outside to finish the party, heart melting when his legs are immediately attacked by the hugs of several toddlers

you’re still thinking about the way he picked up and spun around the birthday girl before putting her on his shoulders for the group picture when he walks back into the office with a big smile on his face

“how are you doing?”

you chuckle, wrapping the towel even tighter around yourself as he leans hinself on the doorframe of the office

he looks....undeniably attractive - with his casual uniform on, a gray tshirt tucked into navy cargo pants and black boots - and the way he gazes down at you makes you feel a little small

his wavy hair - though he told you he’d been at the station for 24 hours already - remains perfect, looking soft and fluffy despite the fact that he may not have showered for a while

“still cold, but i’m okay, really.”

“here.”

from behind his back, he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a crewneck sweater

“they’re mine, but you can borrow them for now.”

your hands stop in midair, mouth hanging open as you think about whether or not you should take them from him

“i-i can’t, these are for you to change into. you’ve been here for almost a day already, right?”

he only pushes them towards you more

“i insist. besides, it was kinda my fault.”

your skin turns pink when you realize that you’ll be fulfilling a fanfic-like scene if you take the change of clothes from a man you just met

but you’re also very uncomfortable and cold so you find yourself walking back out of the bathroom in warm clothes too big for you

you don’t miss how his face flushes red when he stands up from where near and your dogs are laying - handing you a plastic bag with your clothes

“i’ll walk you out.”

with a shy smile on his face, you and your dog follow him out of the station - him even walking you all the way out to the corner of the block

when you get home, a small piece of paper flutters to the floor when you take the clothes out to do your laundry

“let me know when we can meet so i can get my clothes back! maybe we can walk the pups together too? (xxx) xxx-xxxx

for the next week and a half, you and him start to text each other constantly throughout the day

the squad doesn’t fail to notice the little grin that shows up on his face whenever he’s looking at his phone

don’t even mention the one time you sent him a lame - but cute cause it’s you - dad joke about a fire hydrant

the paramedics swore they heard him giggle

him - the totally manly, serious dreamboat with a perfect swoosh in his hair that the ladies always fell for - giggled

no one said anything because god knows what would happen if they did?

last time someone teased him about attracting all the ladies, he got so embarrassed that he blushed, squealed, and laughed so loudly as he stuffed his face into the back of his brother’s jacket

the afternoon you decide to swing by the firehouse, you shoot him a quick text that you’ll be dropping by to bring his clothes back

the only thing that the rest of the squad sees his a blur as their youngest firefighter sprints by to tidy himself up from the call they had just gotten back from

but not before accidentally leaving his phone on the counter for the rest of the company to see your ‘great! i’ll see you in ten minutes!’ text

as he walks back into the “living room” of the headquarters, everyone watches him from their places at the couches or tables, smirking at the fact that the usual sixteen minutes it took him to shower and change into his casual uniform was reduced to four minutes

“what?”

he can only turn a darker shade of red as his fellow company members start whooping and cheering, even patting him on the back and hooking their arm around his neck

congratulating and teasing him for possibly having his first s/o since high school (the boy was too dedicated for his career to date)

loud laughter only escapes his mouth as he tries to wave them off so he can prepare himself for seeing you again

he doesn’t even have another five minutes before bear starts barking happily at the entrance of the building, signaling that their receptionist let you in

everyone’s head whips around to you and your dog, who nearly jumps at the sudden attention, but you regain your composure to give the whole group a small smile and bow

“hi, is — here?”

you can’t see him from where he is being tackled by his brother and some of the other men in his company

one woman shoves through the huddle to pull the boy in question out and pushes him towards you before trying to usher the squadron back to their original seats

he ends up stumbling before you before he regains his balance to take the neatly folded pile of clothes you borrowed from him

the way his hair is fixed messily hits your heart along with how adorable he looks no matter how ‘serious’ he’s supposed to look in his uniform

"hey.”

“hi. thanks for letting me borrow them.”

he insists that there’s no need to thank him - he was the one who attacked you with the hose

“listen, i’ve been - ”

someone snickers from the couch, but you miss the glare that he sends them as you pull something out of your bag

“i was wondering - ”

you motion for him to go first with an awkward, breathy laugh as you hand stops rummaging through your backpack, but as the gentleman he is, he insists that you go first

“i’ve been having so much fun talking to you lately. i don’t know if i’m the only one who feels something between us, but would a date sometime tonight be too much to ask for to figure things out? i brought a peace offering.”

you only give him a smile before pulling out a hand-made dog-toy you put together for bear

“he'd be happy to!”

“go now! we can handle it if anything comes up.”

“his shift is over anyway.”

he looks at you after watching the company decide for him, a developing grin on his lips

“i run into burning buildings, run from explosions, jump into bodies of water, and climb up trees for my job every day, but none of that adrenaline beats the exhilaration i feel when i’m talking to you. i’d love to.”

a/n — yes, i’ve been m.i.a. writing wise and i’m sorrryy! but i would like to say thank you to my petal pals @masterninjacow, @seungmate, and @jsmrtist for ideas for my first series! this ones for you guys. to everyone who’s been waiting, thank you for being patient with me! (pt. 2) i got just a little....just a teeny bit👌🏼 carried away with the younger members? maybe, maybe not (i didn’t realize how long the story backgrounds ended up being) (pt. 3) @jsmrtist flicked me on the cheek when she read the last line, ELENA THAT HURT

edit: we don’t support assholes on this blog so here’s an open bias au for everyone ;) please let me know if i left any cursed names here :)

215 notes · View notes

yaffles-world · 4 years

Text

Jealousy - Jonathon Joestar X Dio Brando

Jonathon and Dio’s childhood was fueled by rivalry. A constant competition resulted, although from different motivations. Jonathon was self driven, wanted to be the best version of himself that he could be and merely wanted love and acknowledgement. Dio, on the other hand, was constantly driven by a high ambition to be the best and most powerful person there ever was. Although driven by opposite forces their world’s did collide – quite spectacularly.

If Jonathon got higher marks in his classes, Dio would scorn him and insult him in other ways to try and drag him down, to discredit him. If Dio got higher score in sports, Jonathon would be there, politely congratulating him, but inside it would add to a burning desire to improve himself.

As the boys got older, things began to change.

One day, after school, Jonathon and Mr Joestar were in the dining room. The door creaked open and Dio stepped inside the house. Beside him was a girl. A girl with long, wavy hair and sparkling, amber eyes. Her hand was lingering slightly away from his waist, not seeming to know what to do with it. Her pale cheeks had a faint blush to them as Dio spoke.

“Mr Joestar, JoJo,” as Dio looked at Jonathon, Jonathon felt a pit form in his stomach for some reason. “This is Genevieve, we are in the same legal class and she has come so we can study together.”

“Well, isn’t that wonderful?” Mr Joestar replied.

“Nice to meet you, Genevieve,” JoJo rose from his chair, putting his book aside and bowing slightly to the lady.

Over the coming months, Jonathon felt really quite odd. He spent all his time thinking about Dio and Genevieve – he couldn’t focus on anything.

His grades were slipping, his sport scores, all despite his best efforts. He criticised himself constantly, about how he couldn’t do it – Dio had a girlfriend and he still kept up exceptionally in school. Dio’s taunts took on a new feeling for JoJo that he couldn’t put his finger on.

JoJo felt trapped. He couldn’t win this. There was no way. Dio was with Genevieve. And everything was different. He’d always felt competitive before, and it sometimes reached the point of obsession, but this just didn’t make sense. Dio was with Genevieve. That was an entirely solo commitment. It wasn’t something Dio could be bested at, like grades or sport, but he still felt fueled by a similar type of passion.

One night, JoJo was studying for an archeology exam. He was trying so hard to focus, his door was closed and he was hitting the books. Every time he thought about Dio and Genevieve, he slapped his hand. It was a strategy he’d thought of a month ago – it hadn’t worked yet but he was out of ideas.

Dio opened the door. JoJo looked over to see Dio being framed by the light glowing from the hall, his amber eyes twinkling with God knows what – mischief, sadism, genuine joy, there was no way to tell.

“Studying hard again, I see?” Dio laughed, “Wonder if it will actually pay off.”

“Leave me alone, Dio,” Jonathon replied, firmly, returning to look at his books.

“What has been going on with you lately?” Dio mused, wandering into the room, “You’ve really been failing, haven’t you? What’s getting you down?”

Dio sat down on the bed, chin in his hands looking up at the window, with mock seriousness.

“For the last time, Dio, leave me alone.” By now JoJo knew what Dio was trying to do – he’d lived with him long enough that it was one of his favourite things was to get a rise out of people, especially JoJo.

“Hmm, I don’t think I will,” Jonathon started to blush slightly, “Is it a girl?”

JoJo tried to cover his face and stared furiously at the book, willing this nightmare to end.

“Ah, it is a girl,” Dio teased, “who is it? Probably some lame girl in one of your classes.”

Jonathon’s throat began to tighten and his heart rate picked up. He continued to ignore him, trying desperately to study. He needed to pass this exam, why wasn’t he able to focus? It was infuriating.

“Oooh, or is it Genevieve? Very naughty, gentlemen JoJo going after a taken lady. Well, she’s too good to go out with you anyway.”

Just. Ignore. Jonathon pleaded with himself.

“Or, naughty Jonathon Joestar,” Dio had gotten closer, it sounded like he was about a meter or so behind him but he still didn’t acknowledge him. His face continued to heat up despite his silent protestations – for some reason, Dio saying his name like that made him furious. The light was on, and if Dio saw JoJo's reaction, JoJo would never hear the end of it.

“Is it me?” Dio whispered directly into JoJo’s ear. His face flushed intensely and he began to sweat more, and he could feel Dio's smirk continue to curl more menacingly as he noticed JoJo's embarrassment.

“We all want what we can’t have,” Dio whispered, and then rose again to walk out the door. “Figure it out. It’s been too easy to win lately.”

JoJo’s one love in his life, the only thing keeping him somewhat sane, was his gorgeous horse. The horses name was Teresa. She had a dark brown body with lighter coloured tail, mane and socks.

One day, months after the incident with Dio, JoJo went down to the stables. He gave Remi a pat, Dio’s surprisingly gentle horse, and went to Teresa.

“Why can’t I focus, Teresa?” JoJo muttered out loud. Teresa just neighed sympathetically.

“Why do I keep fixating on this stuff? I’m at a loss for describing my own feelings...” JoJo said, “Do I like Genevieve? I keep thinking about her and...” Jonathon shut off his thought immediately. No, he scolded, either you like Genevieve or your jealous. Don’t let him into your head.

“And who, naughty Jonathon Joestar?” Jonathon turned around with a start. Dio had appeared in the doorway of the barn.

“Can you stop calling me that? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Haven’t you?” Dio wandered over to Remi and stroked her nose, “Listen, I’m so bored. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I miss the competition. Why don’t we just have a race with these horses, okay? Shouldn’t be that difficult,right?”

“No, I’ll pass, I’m going to go back inside,” Jonathon started to move towards the door but Dio blocked his way. They were the same height, but Jonathon couldn’t help but be embarrassed by Dio’s commanding presence. “Just go and hang out with Genevieve.” Jonathon looked down and he couldn’t help but blush when he said her name. Maybe I do like her, he thought.

“Genevieve can wait. I dare you to race me and try and win.”

And with that... they saddled up their horses and lead them out of the stable.

What's the harm? Thought Jonathon, I might even win.

They set the parameters of the course and then they were off. Dio started out in the lead, guiding Remi with ease down this course like they'd done it millions of times before. It was a relatively open track but there was still heavy trees blocking the way, and many hazardous roots. Slowly, JoJo began to catch up.

Was this... fun? Jonathon thought. It had been such a long time since they had done something together. They did get along in their own weird way.

As the end of the track neared both boys encouraged their horses and pushed them through that last bit. Right at the end, as they approached the barn again, Jonathon pulled out in front and won. As they slowed, Dio clapped, possibly sarcastically but it was unclear.

“Well, I suppose you completed the dare. You can go back inside now or we could have some more fun.”

“I dare you to race me again,” Jonathon said.

Dio laughed. “Nope,” he said as he lead Remi back into her part of the stable.

They both sat on the hay up against the wall. “Dare you to... eat this piece of hay.”

“Lame,” chided Dio.

“Okay, cut off this bunch of hair.” JoJo grabbed at a bunch of Dio's hair that was pulled back for riding.

Dio sighed. Jonathon knew his pride wouldn’t let him refuse.

So Dio cut his hair.

“So, what is up with you anyway?”

“Oh God, not this again,” groaned JoJo.

Dio continued to look at him, intensely. “Well, it’s just girl troubles.... I guess...” Jonathon said, looking at Dio as he sadly cradled his hair in his hands

“I felt the same,” Dio replied, startling JoJo with his genuine tone, “I was crazy about Genevieve... I just acted on it quicker and didn't, you know, “ Dio gestured vaguely at JoJo, “lose it. Who’s the girl?”

Dio’s soft expression made JoJo’s heart twist unexpectedly – blushing, he turned away, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s no one important. Anyway, it’s your turn.”

“I dare you to kiss Remi,” Dio said.

“Lame,” JoJo retorted, mockingly.

“Teresa would get pretty jealous but if you insist,” Dio laughed, “I can give you another dare.”

JoJo nodded and Dio finally parted with his few locks of hair that were now missing. His hair looked mostly the same but you could tell that it had been cut.

Dio smiled. “I dare you to kiss me.”

JoJo blushed heavier then he had ever done before. His hands began to shake, and the light warning up the barn seemed to become dense, suffocating... judgemental.

Do I... like Dio? Jonathon thought, perplexed.

“Uhh,” JoJo stammered, “what? We can't do that. That's...”

“You've been a very naughty boy, Jonathon Joestar.”

JoJo scanned Dio’s face desperately to see if he was joking or manipulating JoJo but to JoJo's surprise and confusion, he really wasn’t.

Dio smiled. “Do it. I'm serious.”

JoJo hesitantly leaned in to Dio, waiting for him to pull away but he didn't. They're lips made contact and JoJo, finally, after months and months of agony, felt at peace. He pulled away.

“But that was just a dare, right? It didn't mean anything?” JoJo asked.

Dio leaned in and kissed JoJo.

“That wasn't,” Dio said.

“But... what about Genevieve?”

“Honestly, you were the ‘girl’ I was crazy about Jonathon. I didn't understand my feelings and I assumed it must've been for Genevieve. She did help distract me but... we broke up a month ago. Don't worry, I actually did let her down easy.”

“But... what does this mean? For the future?” JoJo asked.

“For God’s sakes, JoJo, just shut up.”

“Make me.”

And he did.

9 notes · View notes

syms-things-5 · 4 years

Text

Clear The Area - Chapter Four

Previous Chapter HERE

Warning: Not explicit (yet); some mild language.

Summary: 29-year-old nurse Sarah Bernette has worked hard to get where she is. Moving to Boston from a nowhere dump of a town, she’s studied hard and is grateful her stress is finally paying off. Despite being fostered repeatedly throughout her childhood, she’s since found some comfort in the form of her adopted parents, Jocelyn and Noah, and a pseudo-adoptive family of sorts in form of the Evans clan who have treated her as one of her own ever since she moved in with best friend, Shanna. Valuing them above all else, she appreciates their support even more when her long lost birth mother decides to reappear in her life after so many years, and is surprised to find out just how supportive Chris is in particular. As she struggles to maintain a firm grip on both her professional and private lives, she finds an ill-advised solace in her growing mutual attraction with him but how long before everything unravels and threatens to pull the rug out from underneath her?

Note: I apologise for my spelling/grammar errors.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sarah had something of a reprieve from her unplanned-planned date night/tennis match/whatever with Greg when Shan kindly called her to say she couldn’t stop vomiting and had to be sent home from work. As always, Sarah was her first port of call but she sounded absolutely terrible over the phone, and Sarah felt bad leaving her to fend for herself. Scott would often run a mile at the first sign of someone being ill, so scared was he of being even marginally unwell and Chris would, well, he was just absolutely useless with a crying woman.

She had managed to catch Greg on her way out and apologised for cancelling at short notice. He seemed disappointed but was quick to suggest another catch-up when things had calmed down. She had realised that he might have thought she was blowing him off with a lame excuse and made a note to speak to him the next time she saw him. Audrey mentally fired darts at Sarah’s head as she waved her a goodbye, deliberately avoiding a lecture.

“My stomach really hurts. I think I might be dying,” Shan over-exaggerated.

“You’re not dying, OK? You’ve probably got some food poisoning, though. Did you eat or drink anything weird in the last 48 hours?” Sarah asked over the phone as she got ten minutes away from their apartment.

“No just that tequila. I don’t think it’s that, though, and...oh wait...” she stopped herself. “I ate sushi.”

“What the fuck, Shanna? You’re practically allergic to sushi?” Sarah exclaimed over the phone to the surprise of a runner who’d just overtaken her as she crossed through the park. “Why did you eat that? You know what? Doesn’t matter. Just keep drinking water and stay close to the bathroom for a little while. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Chris was hanging in the hallway outside their front door when she finally arrived home. She knew it must be bad for him to risk being spotted by her overly enthusiastic neighbour, and he looked like he had been emotionally scarred for life.

“How’s she doing?” Sarah dared to ask.

“There are sounds coming from her that I have never heard made by another human being before.” He hung his head low. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Sarah chuckled and place a comforting hand on his shoulder before brushing past him and walking inside. Sure enough, she found her on the floor of their bathroom, leaning by the toilet bowl. For some reason, all the towels were on the floor and the window was wide open which was, she figured, Chris’ way of dealing with things.

“He’s been rubbing my back but that just made it worse.” Shan said before retching again. She looked pitiful curled up on the floor like this, the last of her mascara making unflattering tracks down her cheeks. Her curly hair was unruly most of the time as it was but now it looked even more like a bird’s nest.

Sarah dumped her bag and sat down beside her. Back-rubbing never worked, she knew this all too well but still thought it was cute of Chris to at least try it. Seriously, what was it with people throwing up near her lately? Instead, she moved the strands of hair sticking to her forehead and gently ran her hand over the back of her head and neck in circular massaging motions to ease some of her strain.

“Do you think you could eat some dry toast? Or a banana maybe?” Sarah suggested. “You need to keep your stomach active.”

“i just want this to end...”

“I know you do. I think it’s just a case of waiting this out now.” Sarah kept her voice as soothing as possible and continued to gently run her hand over her hair, attempting to lightly detangle knots as she found them. Shan would thank her for that later.

Chris was perched on a stool against the breakfast table eating a banana when Sarah walked back in. “Did she tell you?” he asked, mild irritation showing in his voice.

“Yep. why sushi of all things?” Sarah questioned him as if he might know something. “I bought that for her by the way, Potassium is good for the body after food poisoning.”

“No idea. But I bet that Ben has something to do with it. Did you know he was back in town?” He quizzed her somewhat accusatorially. Sarah held her hands up, silently remonstrating her lack of knowledge.

Ben was someone Shanna had gone to High School with and met again in college. They had dated on and off, usually when Ben dictated, until he’d left Boston to join his Uncle’s political campaign in Chicago. Sarah had only met him twice but once was enough to know he was trouble and the somewhat nauseating kind, not the entertaining kind. A few years back, Ben had been responsible for Shan getting points on her licence when he’d been caught speeding after admitting to her his licence had been revoked following his DUI charge. It was the first real experience Sarah had had of an Irish family arguing and they failed to notice she had snuck out to a hotel for the night to avoid the conflict. Lisa didn’t speak to Shanna for weeks afterwards and Chris flew back to LA to avoid hitting him with a baseball bat.

“I swear to God, if he even so much as shows his face round here, I’ll tie him to the heaviest boulder and shove him off Longfellow.” He always spoke in hyperbole when he got aggravated, like his brain couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so stupid. It was the same attitude he displayed when he watched Trump get inaugurated. Shan wasn’t stupid but Sarah had to admit she harboured a blind spot where Ben was concerned.

“You don’t know it was him this time. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. There could be a harmless explanation.”

Chris looked her dead in the eye before awkwardly shifting his attention elsewhere. She watched as he clumsily tried to straighten up in front of her.

“Chris? We don’t know it’s because of him, do we?”

Chris took a breath and pursed his lips. He looked like he had forgotten how to speak. “I spoke to Matt and he looked him up for me. Turns out he got some drug charges dropped and was thrown off the campaign last month and now he’s back home with his mom.” Sarah looked stunned at the information.

“Look, who else would it be? She was probably trying to impress him or something stupid. It’s not like she doesn’t have previous here, is it? What is so great about this guy?”

“Search me. He’s not my type whatsoever.”

“Yeh, well, you’re sensible. It’s only because of you that she’s at least able to hold down a job for longer than six months without getting distracted.” He launched the banana skin into the bin like he was shooting hoops. “I really wanna punch him. Just once. Can I, please?”

“Mate, don’t look at me. I’m not your PR Manager.”

“Well, I’m like 90% sure Matt won’t let me...” He leaned against the counter in front of her, arms folded, resigned to the fact that he was helpless. “I could sneak into this house and tie all his shoelaces together? Can’t get arrested for that, can I?”

Sarah laughed at the sheer daftness of the thought. “You could take all the stuffing out of his pillows?”

Chris shot her a look of disbelief. “OK, now you’re taking this too far. Whatever you want to do on your own time is up to you.”

“Oh, good, you’ve told him.” Shan croaked as she made her way gingerly through the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. She’d managed to remove her sweat-soaked clothes and changed into her pyjamas and a dressing gown that Sarah recognised as her own that was previously hanging up in the bathroom.

“Told me what?” Chris asked, his jovial expression suddenly changing to one of concern and increasingly so as his eyes flicked between Sarah and Shanna, neither of them making much of an effort to talk. Sarah knew it was on her to break the silence.

“Just...it’s nothing really. Honestly. It’s just my...my mom wants to meet me and...stuff.” As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them. She sounded like a teenager who had just been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Chris was probably regretting telling her she was the sensible one now. For some reason, she decided to carry on talking to fill the silence. “So, I thought I might let her see me and...stuff. Maybe.”

Chris was quiet for what felt like a long time. He was clearly vetting his words carefully before saying anything, never taking his eyes off Sarah. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times preparing to speak before quickly changing his mind. This one really seemed to stump him.

“I told you it was a bad idea, hun.” And with that, Shan left the kitchen and Sarah to her fate. How was it that in less than ten minutes she had managed to shift Chris’ frustration squarely on to her?

“Your biological mom? I thought you didn’t want to see her?” He asked albeir in a far too monotonous tone for her liking.

“I don’t. I didn’t. But they sent me a letter, and-”

“Who’s “they”?” he interrupted.

“The Adoption agency back in Flint.” Sarah quickly responded but then couldn’t think of anything else to add to ease the tense atmosphere growing around them. He pondered her response for a second not looking away from her. She must have looked about twelve now.

“Why does she have the courts intervening on her behalf?” It was a good question and one Sarah was all too aware she didn’t have the answer for. It did look a little desperate on her mom’s behalf, too. Chris still had his arms folded and from this angle they looked even bigger than usual. He had a very unapproachable manner when he was built like this and he would often use it to his advantage, not that there was ever a possibility of missing him in a room full of people, for one reason or another. “What’s her angle here?”

“I figured it was to make sure I got her letter. I don’t exactly know why which is why I was thinking of meeting her.” She shrugged and tried to move her feet from the spot she’d been frozen to. Chris clocked his disapproving stance and moved in a bid to equal her posture.

“Come off it, Sarah. You’re not thinking about it. You’ve clearly made your mind up. Why now, though? I thought you were happy with everything and with where you are?” He unfolded his arms and looked like he was about to take a step towards her but changed his mind and leaned on the kitchen island instead. “Is it not longer enough?”

She didn’t appreciate the tone. “Obviously, I am happy enough here. It’s nothing to do with me feeling like there’s something missing. I just, I thought it might be healthy to put some closure on some things is all. I really didn’t think what I chose to do would be this big of a deal to everyone.”

“I take it Shanna supports this crazy idea?”

“It’s not crazy and if you have to now, then no she doesn’t Not entirely anyway but she at least gets that it’s my decision.”

“I just worry about you sometimes. I don’t think you look out for yourself as much as you’re allowed to.”

She didn’t know how to take that. “I can look after myself.”

“I know you can but you shouldn’t have to is what I’m saying, not all the time. Other people can help, y’know? You might not realise it but you’re a big part of my family and regardless of what I say here and now, you know full well my mom is gonna be a hell of a lot worse.”

Thankfully, they both laughed. That was certainly going to be true. She contemplated making some kind of pact with him so that Lisa didn’t find out until was absolutely necessary but figured now wasn’t the time to ask him. Instead she opted to bring him in for a hug and she felt him physically calm in her arms, no doubt at Shan’s predicament as well.

“i appreciate you concern, I really do, but I need to figure this out myself.” She fixed him with as big a grin as she could manage. It might help her believe it, too.

Chris wasn’t so convinced.

Thankfully, Shan made it through the night without swallowing her tongue. Sarah could only manage a couple of hours sleep in the end and would keep waking at random intervals to check on her. At one point, she thought she could hear Chris moving around in their lounge but decided against checking to see if he was OK. The rule of thumb for living with the Evanses, according to Carly, dictated you could only attainably deal with one of them at a time.

She left for work an hour earlier than usual in a bit to avoid the uncomfortable atmosphere at home, both Shanna and Chris being as stubborn as each other.

“I’ve decided that I will let you buy me a coffee.” Greg said confidently as he walked up to stand beside her at the triage desk. “If you’re not busy. Lunchtime, maybe?”

“Oh, um,” She thought about letting him down a second time until she caught Audrey’s death stare on the other side of the corridor, coming towards them both like Jaws. “Yeh, er, lunchtime would work. No problem.”

“Great! That’s a date then!”

“Awesome, you guys managed to figure it out!” Audrey moved into Greg’s eyeline now, beaming at them both. “If you want to go a little earlier, feel free. It’s pretty quiet here and I don’t mind covering for a while?”

“Sure, that would be fantastic, thank you. Sarah, shall I meet you outside in 5?” Greg asked, his tone a little less than that of a giddy child being told he could eat candy for dinner.

“OK, yeh. I’ll just go grab my jacket.”

Sarah waited for Greg to leave the desk before scolding Audrey or at least attempting to. She could never win an argument with her no matter how hard she tried. Truly, it was futile. Audrey was like some kind of wizard, which made sense given her history with her alma mater’s debate team. (side note: she was kicked out of the group after arguing with an adjudicator).

“It’s just coffee. I don’t know what you’re so bothered about. He’s nice and he likes you. Just...don’t bum him out.”

It was a quiet walk to Joe’s. Sarah wasn’t entirely sure what to talk about and figured talking shop might not be the way to go. He ordered for them both, just a couple of decaf lattes, and they took a booth towards the back so as to avoid any potentially nosy co-workers popping by. Not that she was bothered too much, she liked the people that she worked with; it was more that she didn’t enjoy the questions that came with potentially dating a colleague and it would also force her to calculate how long it had been since she had had a proper date. Was Chris right? Was Daniel her last known interest?” Oh god, how depressing.

“I really hope we get that game in some time soon. I reckon I could show you a thing or two,”

Greg managed to snap her out of her head.

“Oh, yeh, it wouldn’t be too hard. I’ve played maybe two games my whole life.” She saw Greg look confused. “Audrey bent the truth somewhat the other day.”

“He bobbed his head in understanding but couldn’t hide the hint of disappointment. “She’s been keen to set us up I bet?”

Sarah nodded. “She’s a good mate. She looks out for me a lot. I’ve known her almost as long as I’ve been in Boston now.”

“Oh yeh? Yeh, she seems nice.” He played with his cup for a second before speaking again. “I hope you don’t feel under pressure to come out with me. Honestly, if you’d rather not, I completely understand. I don’t wanna make you feel awkward or anything.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’ve liked working with you. You seem nice and you’re clearly very talented.” She smiled at him and for the first time she realised how nervous he seemed. He held himself in the hospital with such confidence and stature, it almost didn’t seem like she was sat across from the same person.

“Thank you. I like you, too. You’re very...unassuming.” He offered in return. She wasn’t sure how to take that and he must have seen a look of perplexity cross her face or something because he felt the need to quickly backtrack. “Not that, I mean. I mean that you don’t chase the limelight. You just do your job, very well, and you don’t expect any thanks for it. That’s refreshing. Where I come from, people are always vying for the limelight. It’s hard to mark yourself out as anything special.”

Sarah hadn’t thought of the medical profession as a competition before. She’d never thought she had to best anyone or prove she was better than anyone else. Surely everyone just had the same goal? Maybe it was different as a Physician.

Suddenly Greg made sense to her. She couldn’t quite believe it but she felt sorry for him.

He put his cup back on the table and looked at her, his eyes smiling. “So, that tennis match. Do you fancy rescheduling?”

#chris evans #chris evans fic #chris fic #fan fiction #sarah bernette #clear the area #chris evans x original female character #writing #Syms Writing

20 notes · View notes

parkmin--seo · 4 years

Text

Is that MINNIE PARK? Wow, they do look a lot like LEE JI-EUN. I hear SHE is an EIGHTEEN year old university FRESHMAN. Word is they are a REGULAR student at Luxor Academy. You should watch out because they can be SENSITIVE and NAIVE, but on the bright side they can also be INTELLIGENT and CREATIVE. Ultimately, you’ll get to see it all for yourself.

class schedule:

astronomy

spanish

baking

choir

advanced sociology

theatre

poetry

extracurricular:

theatre ( costume design ) art club

BIO:

okay, so minnie, born park min-seo, was raised in washington and lived there for the majority of her life up until being sent to luxor her freshman year of high school.

her parents weren’t insanely rich or anything, but they were fairly well off. her mother, lee ha-yoon ( yoon lee ), owned her own dance studio, as well as an art studio and her father, park hyun-jae ( jae park ), was an fbi agent. they were both born and raised in seoul, south korea and they met when they were just teenagers. the way they always told it, they fell madly in love and left seoul to live out their dreams in california, which they did for a while until ha-yoon became pregnant. they moved back to seoul and moved back to the states, this time seattle, when minnie was five.

minnie’s love of art came as no surprise to her parents, given the amount of time that she spent at both of her mother’s studios. however, despite her mother’s efforts to convince her to take dance classes, minnie never loved dancing as much as she loved sketching/painting. they were passions that she threw herself into, particularly as she got older and found herself needing an escape from what would still to this day be considered the worst thing that had ever happened to her. ( but we’ll get to that in a minute . )

if asked, minnie always swore that she loved both of her parents equally, but she was definitely more of a daddy’s girl than anything else. she always said that was because he wasn’t around as often as her mother, so the time she spent with him meant even more to her because she knew how lucky she was that he took the time to make time for her??? when he very well could have just… not done that and chosen to focus on his work more than he did his family.

her father was just generally an all-around a+++ guy, but she really did love both of her parents and aspired to be like them in a lot of ways because she didn’t think there were two people who were more good. even if that made her bias.

TW: MURDER

when minnie was a teenager, her father started investigating a series of killings. it wasn’t ever something he really talked about with his wife or daughter, but he was home a lot less and threw himself into the case.

she was thirteen when she was pulled out of a history lesson and greeted with the sight of her mother, who looked like she’d just seen a ghost, as well as her father’s fbi partner and another one of the officers he’d been investigating the case with.

a lot of worst case scenarios ran through her mind and she’d already guessed the worst thing before her mother even said the words, that her father had been brutally murdered by the same man responsible for all of the other murders.

it was only a couple of weeks later that they caught the man they thought to be responsible. a man who was revealed to be the father of someone she had been close to growing up.

END OF TW

after losing her father, minnie started to shut everyone out. especially the son of the person who had been arrested for the murder. because she couldn’t take her anger out on the man responsible, so she took her anger out on that man’s son. her best friend who wasn’t her best friend anymore, because she couldn’t look at him without seeing the man who had killed her father. around everyone else, she was still that sweet girl she’d always been, but with leo, she was cold, distant and she wanted everyone to hate him as much as she had convinced herself that she did.

minnie threw herself into her art even more, because it was the one thing that made her feel okay. she didn’t cry at her father’s funeral or hasn’t really dealt with his death since learning of it. her mother grew as distant as she had and spent more time at her studio than she did with her own daughter, given how unable she was to cope with her husband’s death. it was like his ghost was everywhere, in their house and at the studio and in her mother’s eyes.

she tried to commit suicide and spent the summer before her first year at luxor in a mental institution. this was a secret until it was revealed by the circle at prom.

it came as a relief to minnie when her mother announced that she was going to send her to luxor for her schooling when she entered high school. she was ready to get out of washington and to escape the ghost of her father.

when she got to luxor, she joined theatre to do costume design, because she still had dreams to become a fashion designer some day. she also joined arts club, because of her love of art.

life at luxor had been more tolerable than her life at home and she’d almost forgotten her sadness and that anger, buried it until she couldn’t feel it anymore… and then her secrets had been revealed.

ahhh okay, that’s all i can think of but i might add more later. as for her personality, she is literally the definition of sweet as pie. she doesn’t ever have a bad thing to say about anyone, except for one person in particular. still, she isn’t so nice that she doesn’t know how to stick up for herself and in the event that anyone was ever mean to her for some reason, she wouldn’t be afraid to fight back. she’s artsy and it shows. the true definition of a fashionista and she WILL talk fashion all day, every day. very loyal, the kind of friend that anyone should want to have on their side, and is incredibly trustworthy. she tries to give everyone a chance, but she does have trust issues, which makes it hard for her to believe in second chances. basically, hurt her once, shame on you and you don’t get another shot to do it again. ummm, she’s really really smart and honestly could have been given a scholarship but her mother is well-off enough that she was able to pay for everything without the aid of a scholarship. likes to crack a lot of jokes, but they’re all really lame. think dad jokes, but, like, the teenage girl version of that. she has mood swings sometimes, but they’re never so sudden that it gives people whiplash. if she doesn’t want to talk, she won’t be rude about it. she’ll just say that she isn’t feeling well and lock herself in her dorm until she feels better. and yikes, i can’t think of anything else because she’s a new baby, but will add more if i think of anything.

random facts:

while she was raised in washington for the majority of her life and it’s all she remembers, she was actually born in seoul, south korea.

if you don’t like k pop, never ask her to play music because it will be one of the only things she plays

she’s fluent in english, as well as korean because both of her parents were from korea and they wanted to teach her how to speak it. they also were notorious for only speaking korean when at home to make it easier for her to learn. she also knows a little mandarin and can speak semi-decent french and japanese. she’s currently taking german and plans to add that to her list once she masters it.

she can often be seen wearing her father’s fbi cap because it’s one of the only things she has left of him. that, and his jacket.

comes off somewhat confident, but she’s actually really really insecure and doesn’t think too highly of herself at all

can secretly sing very well/also rap but she won’t usually do so in front of anyone because she’s incredibly shy. ( voice claim: lee ji eun / iu )

literally the embodiment of walking on sunshine

she refuses to talk to her therapist or take her medications for depression/anxiety ( most recent secret reveal )

#luxorintro #suicide tw #murder tw #death tw #depression tw #the only thing that is really different here is that her original secret is added bc it isn't a secret anymore

6 notes · View notes

cravingcrazewriting · 4 years

Text

Secret admirers seemed too cliche to actually be a thing. Or at least, that’s what Evan used to think.

It was the typical formula of High School romances in dumb, romance films trying to be hip or cool. It was just too good to be true in real life.

Or well, so Evan thought.

Because he had a note sticking outside his locker, which just said “Dear E, You look really cute today.”

And it was February, ironically, which was the most romantic month of the year, or at least Evan thought. He was a hopeless romantic who just wanted some affection.

But not like this. He would’ve preferred to just be told upfront, because he would take what he could get at this rate, especially after realizing his fixation with being with Zoe was just loving the idea of someone like her, and not actually her, so he was still hurt by that, despite the fact that she didn’t even do anything to him. He thought he wouldn’t ever have a chance at romance again,

Well, until that little note.

Evan felt a twinge of doubt reside deep inside himself, and he tried to convince himself that it was meant for him, because he didn’t know anyone that had a locker by his with the initial E. For once, he just wanted to take something like this and enjoy it, instead of freaking out, having a panic attack for no reason whatsoever, or letting his insecurities get the best of him.

So, he tucked the little note in his pocket, and decided to let it be, despite his mind screaming that it wasn’t meant for him, and left for his next class.

~*~

It really shouldn’t have surprised him to see another letter fly out of his locker.

Evan hoped he was mentally prepared for it, but no, he wasn’t, because he had to fumble around for the half sheet of paper, while Jared treaded closer and closer to him, so that was inconvenient, because he wanted to read the little note, but nope, it had to be Jared, and his fucking car insurance, just like usual.

“Hansen!” Jared called, and Evan hated how harshly he crumpled the letter into his palm, and down inside his back pocket. “What’s up? We haven’t talked in a while.”

Really? Did he have to do this now? “Oh, I-I’ve been fine. Normal, boring life, you know?”

Jared gave him a look that said “Are we really going to do this?”. “I saw that letter in your locker. Spill.”

Of course he did. That was just his luck. “I don’t know, Jared, I just got it.”

“I can’t believe it! Someone’s writing to you, Evan Hansen! Aren’t you like, most likely to be forgotten?” Jared barked out a laugh.

He tried not to let that comment hurt because he’d heard it a thousand times before, but it still did. He looked away, choosing to ignore it. “I’m… going to class.”

“Buzzkill,” he joked, but made no effort to stop him. “Hey, tell your mom I was nice to you so my parents will pay my car insurance, alright?”

Evan didn’t answer him, knowing it would’ve been preferred.

~*~

It was different every day.

“You hunch in on yourself to try and hide. Don’t. I see you. You’re beautiful.”

“I don’t understand how a stutter is cute, but yours is. Sorry, that’s probably annoying to hear.”

“I hate seeing you cry. Reminds me of how ugly the world is (not saying you’re ugly).”

It was nice. Too nice, so where as it was hard for Evan to believe it was all meant for him. How was it all meant for him? Who could dedicate all this time into just him?

So, feeling a need to do something in return for them, he left a small thank you letter, saying how he appreciated all the stuff they said about him, and that they really brightened his day.

But Evan really hadn’t anticipated a response.

“Dear E,

I’m glad my letters make you happy. It’s nice to know I’m doing one good thing in life. I won’t tell you who I am, but if you’re as lonely as you say you are in your letter, text me sometime? (xxx)-xxx-xxxx”

Normally Evan wouldn’t accept things like this, but curiosity be damned, he wanted to try and get closer to Secret Admirer, and hopefully figure out who they were.

Evan: Since you’re not going to tell me who you are, can you tell me what to call you?

Unknown: call me… C?

Evan made a mental note to change the contact to that.

Evan: I c you

C: ha

C: leave the puns to the professional.

Evan: ):<

Evan: Rude.

Evan: Why don’t you use my name in your letters?

C: it felt impersonal. I know you, but I don’t know you, like in real life.

C: if that makes sense.

Evan: Ah. That makes sense.

Evan: Well now you can use my name. Since we’re talking now.

C: suppose you’ve got a point there lol

And they sort of just kept going on from there. C didn’t like to talk about his home life, and was persistent in learning more about him in general. He seemed thrilled with every new little thing he learnt about him, and would tell non specific stories around every topic.

C: did you ever go to autumn smiles apple orchard??? The had THE BEST apples

C: me and my sis would roll down the hills there. They were super big.

C: and one time my dad brought a remote controlled plane. He accidentally sunk it into the lake there though

Evan: Aw that sucks. Did he apologize?

C: old man never was good with words. He just said “sorry kids, we’ll get a new one”. Like, that was my favorite toy?? You fucker??

Evan: Are you… still holding a grudge?

C: one does not simply forgive their dad after he fucks up so badly.

C was incredibly passionate about protecting rights and nature, and would send Evan long paragraphs at random, most often in the middle of the night.

Was it possible to be crushing on someone Evan didn’t know? Actually, scratch that, he did know C, just not in real life. Like an online relationship, just without the distance.

C: hey, Valentine’s Day is coming up. Wanna be my valentine?

Evan didn’t think he was serious at first, because he was a secret admirer, and his identity was going to remain a secret no matter what, but what would it hurt? Maybe C would leave him a lollipop or something.

Evan: Sure! You’re probably the only person who’d ask heh.

But on that Friday, Valentines Day, he wasn’t expecting to see Connor Murphy waiting beside his locker, a white teddy bear in his arms, as he wore a dark purple sweater with his usual skinny jeans and combat boots. For once, he seemed to put effort into his appearance, because his hair seemed to be detangled and fluffed, showing off a nose piercing, along with a few others on his ears.

Evan hadn’t overdressed that day. He just wanted to wear a light pink short sleeved button up he’d been saving for a special occasion, with loose ended jeans, and his uggs that clashed horribly with the outfit all together. It was a complete disaster, Evan was painfully aware of this, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Hey Ev, it’s me…” Connor smiled at him, fiddling with the teddy bear. “Now you can finally ‘C’ me,” he joked lamely.

Evan couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. Connor’s was too infectious. “Is that— a c-callback to when we first met?”

“Obviously,” the latter chuckled, handing over the teddy bear. Apron further inspection, it was holding a little heart that said “You’re too much to bear!”.

“Can I— can I hug you?” Evan asked sheepishly, holding the stuffed animal close.

Connor opened his arms up, seemingly all too willingly. “Come on in.”

As Evan wrapped his arms around him, he briefly thought about all the rumors that were spread about this guy. He threw a printer at his teacher, Mrs. G, in second grade, he was bullied, he supposedly did drugs and got kicked out of a private school, and he showed up to school high. Then again, Connor showed a completely different persona from behind the letters and texts he received up until that very day. He had a sneaking suspicion that his classmates were wrong about him.

“Can I walk you to class?” Connor asked softly. “And take you to The Orchard tonight?”

“One thousand percent yes,” Evan whispered back, holding onto him tonight.

Once the two separated, Evan gently set the little bear inside his locker, and let Connor walk him to his first class period of the day. They ate lunch together, held hands, and talked. He wasn’t sure what they were, but that didn’t matter.

So what if secret admirers were cliche? Evan’s made him more happy than ever.

#deh #dear evan hansen #connor murphy #treebros #evan hansen #connor #evan

21 notes · View notes

loveforpreserumsteve · 4 years

Text

Those Who Fall: “APTF” Story (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)

Twenty-Two:

Only living a couple of blocks down the street from where the Homecoming parade drove down, the Barneses decided to walk. Well, kind of. With Sophia getting a piggy-back ride from Katie and Ethan on top of Jonas's broad shoulders, they led the way. In the middle, Wanda walked hand in hand with Vis; both occasionally joking with the four in front. Taking up the rear of the group, Bucky pushed Holly in her jogger stroller and Steve walked beside him, holding onto his arm.

Finally reaching the blocked-off street, the family rounded the corner and tried to find a spot on the sidewalk where they'd all fit. Steve also wanted a spot where they could easily see Luke well enough so he could get a couple of pictures.

As Katie set Sophia down, Steve realized just how close they had come to missing the beginning. Katie took Sophia's hand in hers and smiled when the little girl reached up to take Wanda's free hand in her other. Meanwhile, the police escort led the way down the empty street and Steve couldn't help but notice the four teens visibly ignore them while trying not to seem suspicious.

Thankfully, the parade was beginning. Starting off with the middle school band doing their best as they tried their hand at marching. Steve applauded their effort, just like his kids did. Steve could've sworn he saw some smiles on those young band members' faces, and that made Steve's own lips tug into a smile.

Next came the school clubs. Drama, debate, 4H, writing, and the Gay-Straight Alliance. The Barneses cheered for all of them and a few of his former students on those floats cheered, "Mr. Steve!" Which only made Steve's smile grow and a blush to darken his cheeks. Especially when some of the surrounding families turned to look at him.

Bashfully, Steve turned to hide his face in Bucky's bicep while Bucky joined in, softly cheering, "Mr. Steve! Mr. Steve! Mr. Steve!"

Shaking his head, Steve playfully shoved his husband who only wrapped his arm around him in return. Pulling him close, they redirected their attention to the parade. Already they could hear the high school marching band. And when Steve stood on his toes, he could see the flags from the color guard.

Quickly, Steve took out his cellphone and noticed that Jonas and Katie had theirs out as well. The color guard marched by them, executing their routine as they twirled their royal blue swirl flags, hypnotizing the audience, especially Ethan. The little boy yelled out, "I wanna do that!"

Steve's smile grew at that and his heart started racing when the front row of the band kids came into view. Steve got his phone ready and spotted Cassie with a large tuba wrapped around her torso. From beside the Barnes family, a brown haired man yelled, "Way to go, peanut!"

Briefly, Steve looked at the man standing off to the side of him. An attractive older man proudly watched his child. Steve could relate. Redirecting his attention to the marching band, Steve made sure that he was focusing on the correct area.

As more teens passed, his stomach filled with butterflies when Katie cheered, "Yay! Luke!"

Loudly, Jonas whistled and Ethan tried to do the same, high on his shoulders. Letting go of her sisters' hands, Sophia started clapping. From beside him, Bucky lifted his hand from the stroller to cup around his mouth and cheer, "Yeah, Luke!"

Just in time, Steve snapped a couple of pictures of the teen. Wearing the royal blue uniform as everyone else in the band was, but Steve thought that he looked the cutest. As his father, he could be biased though. Although, Steve was confident that Luke was the best quad drummer. Of course, their neighbors might disagree with all the at-home practicing he had done during the summer and on the weekends.

The Barneses cheered for Luke until the marching band hand passed by them completely. And if when the cheerleaders came behind them, and Steve still wanted to cheer for Luke, that was his prerogative. Even when Sophia looked back at him and said, "I want those things!"

"We'll get you some pom poms later," Bucky promised.

Before Sophia got the chance to question him -- the way she clearly wanted to -- Wanda playfully shook her arm to regain her attention and said, "Look!"

After the football players passed them, it was time for the class floats. First was the freshman float, in all its Sleeping Beauty glory. With a large, moving, paper mache spinning wheel and green faux cotton spiderwebs stretched to act like smoke while a green light shone from the front to give it a more enchanted feel. It all led to some scarecrows in the school colors scattered around the floor of the float. On the backboard, a large quote read, "The other team's so lame, they put us to sleep!"

Bucky chuckled at that as the sophomore float came next. From Jonas's shoulders, Ethan tugged on the older boy's hair as he exclaimed, "WOW!"

And, wow, it was. There, on top of the trailer bed was a huge paper mache frog holding a bedazzled football in the school colors. Around the frog, large paper plants straight out of a swamp, moved as though alive before leading to the backboard that proclaimed, "We're almost there, to another Homecoming win!"

"They did a really good job," Bucky looked on in awe. Steve nodded, staring at the creepy frog that could probably fit their whole family and have room for Tibby, too.

When the junior class float started heading their way, Holly started to get fussy. Despite Bucky moving the stroller back and forth in hopes of appeasing her. Locking the jogger stroller, Bucky pulled up the canopy, and walked around to the front. Unbuckling Holly, Bucky lifted the fussy baby into his arms.

Redirecting his attention to the Tangle inspired float. In the faux meadow, the paper mache sat with a smaller, duplicate victory bell at the window. White and blue braided yarn hair hung down, clearly waiting for someone to climb up it.

"Look!" Sophia exclaimed with a large smile crinkling up to her almond shaped eyes while Ethan yelled, "It's where Pascal lives!"

"'We've got a dream. We've got a dream,'" Bucky sang their slogan to the tune of the Disney song, "'That the bell will ring in our victory!'"

Steve shook his head, but couldn't stop smiling with how content Holly seemed due to her daddy's singing. With her small, chubby hand in her mouth, Holly grinned and leaned closer, so she could momentarily rest her forehead on Bucky's shoulder. And because Steve wanted to remember everything about their children's lives, he took a picture of Holly beaming up at Bucky and Bucky grinning right back at her.

"Papa! Look!" Sophia demanded, gaining Steve's attention as The Little Mermaid senior float drove by. More to the point, there was a hand crafted, abnormally large triton with scarecrows dressed in the other school's colors speared on the triton. To tie it all together, the float playfully threatened, "You poor unfortunate souls, you're gonna lose!"

Steve shook his head and turned back to Bucky and Holly. Taking another second to just soak up the moment and commit it to memory. Then, he faced his family, who started turning away from the street as the parade came to a close and asked, "Anyone want a hot chocolate?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Jonas sassed, reaching up and removing Ethan from his shoulders. Rolling and cracking his neck and shoulders, he stretched his arms high above his head.

"Yuck," Katie commented, her face furrowed in disgust; always hating when people cracked their knuckles and such. As she took Ethan's hand, she suggested, "Make some at home while we make pizza."

"I like that plan," Bucky confirmed while Jonas quoted and mocked, "'Clever girl.'"

Playfully rolling his eyes, Steve wrapped his arm around Jonas's torso while suggesting, "C'mon, let's go."

As they headed for home, Jonas draped his arm around Steve's slender shoulders. Steve couldn't help but think of how happy he truly was. Wishing that he could go back in time to reassure his younger self that someday, it really would get better.

#a place to fall #jump then fall #those who fall #bonus #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #marvel #fanfic #wattpad #ao3 #modern au #domestic life #fluff #smut #otp

1 note · View note

yoontothemoon · 5 years

Text

almost ,

pairing — kim mingyu x female reader words — 2003. it is a little long, sorry. warnings — themes of underaged drinking ( technically if you’re in the states ). drugs ( marijuana ). also technically making bonfires on a beach is illegal. summary — he was an ex-something, an ex-maybe, an ex-almost.

you used to love the ocean.

used to.

honestly, you used to love a lot of things. you have convinced yourself that used to was a state of being. it was better than the alternative anyway as you looked out to the waves, watching them lap against your knees before receding again.

it was a reflection of the night and how things transpired over time. the things that went wrong and the people you had crossed.

you wanted to feel numb to it all, half begging seungcheol for whatever remnants of cannabis he had left tucked behind his ear and rolled between his fingers. they were like tiny apologies that he could press into your palm, hoping for something better.

you count the ways that things went wrong.

— one ,

you don’t really know why you agreed by you suppose that seungcheol had coaxed you with the promise of alcohol at first. he was about the only one your trusted to hand you anything because he would test it first. he was a true friend, despite dragging you out of your obvious comfort zone.

he always repaid his debts.

despite all of your better judgment, you had agreed to go on the stupid trek from school to the beach. soonyoung had suggested that you make a day of, with a bonfire and food—with friends, though you weren’t quite sure you could call them that.

you didn’t like the idea, but your friends classmates did ( or rather the female ones ). so, the lot of you had gathered outside the university, so thankful for the end of semester.

it was a time to make memories, you thought, despite how odd you felt in the mismatched group of acquaintances. that was the best that you could call them considering you barely knew half of them as it was. you knew them from high school, though you barely shared any classes and even now as you had made your way into university.

you had moved on with them, from school to school so you supposed that was why you agreed.

you agreed because she wanted you to be there. she wanted you to be her back up.

there was no way to say no.

it was a flaw in your code—a mistake, as your backbone slipped from beneath you.

— two ,

you had spent five—or some—years around him. five. five in which you barely spoke to one another, watching from across the way. four, in which, you wished you could just disappear and one where you held your tongue. that was the extent of your interaction with kim mingyu. it was one class, twice a week for five years.

band.

however lame it might have been, it was the one time you could have interacted—which you did not.

it wasn’t a glamorous class, not something that you were proud of by any means but you liked it. even if you sat across the way and he never quite looked your way. not when you sat in first chair violin while he sat on the opposite end with percussion and acoustic guitar.

it was better that way, you think.

you were happy just to know him—a version of him that you had made up in your mind. a silly infatuation with someone you didn’t even know.

he was your secret. not well kept or concealed but still hidden—like hiding a needle in a stack of needles.

you were one of many in the five years you sat across to him. you just acted indifferently.

— three ,

when she tells you that she likes him, you can’t help but smile.

it wasn’t a good smile, or a happy smile. it was your defensive mechanism.

you smiled.

you had resigned, some time ago, to smiling through everything because frowning seemed like a waste of time. and if you smiled, you knew you could at least pretend for a while—pretend until it felt like you weren’t pretending anymore. until it made you feel just an ounce better, even if it was a lie.

you knew it wasn’t a way to live, but what else could you do?

you smiled, barely and controlled with the kiss of disappointment at the edges. it wasn’t as if you could call dibs on a person, after all.

you resigned to let her have him because that was what friends did. it was what you did. you put everyone else first.

— four ,

you’re not brave, through rightfully who at that age between your teens and adulthood really was?

there a considerable amount of thought went into it. you were not brave. and as much as you wanted to speak your mind, you faltered. you rarely faltered when it came to this. rarely missing a beat between snarky and half-way witty comments.

you become a lesser version of yourself, not quite there. you shrink. you make yourself smaller, as if you aren’t the sun so that other stars could shine just that much brighter.

at that age, you didn’t know how quickly you could burn out—how terrible it was to diminish yourself in the presence of others.

you could count the ways it went wrong.

you think that the universe is petty, petty because it threw you in this situation. petty because you wanted to steer clear of this and it just said no.

it was unfortunate, you supposed because sometime between the walk to the beach and prepping the bonfire, you found yourself situated on mingyu’s lap.

it wasn’t the first time that night that he had you all to himself.

he had lingered behind the group, not once but twice.

once, when you crouched down to tie your shoe. twice, when you had slowed to wait as the light had changed.

in those moments, you made light conversation—much more than the two words a class you had allotted in all the time you had known him. correction, known of him. it might have been enough for him to think you were funny, you think in the briefest moments of eye contact.

you didn’t think about the fact that he towered a head over you. you didn’t think about the way that he stuffed his hands in his pockets to stop him from reaching over to pull your cardigan back on your shoulder. ( you note that he had noticed, mentally debating on whether he should or not. ) and you definitely didn’t think about the fact that your friend was staring from across the street.

you did think about the way he laughed—so full and hardy when he’d throw his head back. you had always thought it was a courtesy. it was the way that the laughter rolled through him accompanied by his habit—fingers carding through the black. he’d push his bangs back after he had settled with lips pressed together, collecting himself in the aftermath.

so you flashed him a smile, however small and beneath you. a smile that seemed only half way there, controlled and a little too put together as you walked. you didn’t think anything of it, a habit you had formed over the years.

but he surprised you, faltering slightly.

“it’s okay to frown, y’know.” he commented with the faint trace of his lisp at the edge of his words. it was the first time that you had truly looked at him, slightly wide-eyed before averting your gaze again.

you didn’t know how to respond—not one smart mouthed comment, though you were a little preoccupied. you noted the way that he looked at you. you tried to ignore it. it was a look that spelled an inkling of affection when the corners of his lips tugged up trying to make light of his comment. he quickly replaced the confidence with clumsy fumbling until you had decided to walk a bit faster.

you lowered your gaze after that moment, half ready to shove and smooth down the edges of your misplaced infatuation.

that was until you found yourself on his lap.

it was a simple choice, barely noticeable when he had caught your hand and pulled you down. it was an ill attempt to pull you out of the way of soonyoung shuffling driftwood about with seokmin.

a part of you thought nothing of it, a simple gesture considering everyone knew you were clumsy. ( you would never hear the end of infamous story in first year where you had taken down every single sheet music stand in one go. ) to reconcile the fact even when seungcheol quirked a brow at you, eyes shifting to the lingering hand at your waist.

you looked back, holding your breath for dear life.

you counted the ways in which you made it worse.

in the moments in between, you forgot about your situation. you were almost bright, radiating your light in hushed conversation. you felt at ease because the girls had gone to get food and the boys had haphazardly tried to start the fire.

it was just mingyu and you in your own little world, half reminiscing about the last year—the year you had gotten closer before you closed off. you had forgotten what it was like to laugh, reminding yourself that he wasn’t just in your head—or rather he was.

it was a moment. just the one that you shared with him. it was the culmination of regret of not talking sooner and the almost confessions that darted between lips and the flash of his canines.

it was easier to hold them in, right at the roof of your mouth as you thought of responses until your private conversation drifted away.

your attentions shifted as you started to laugh at soonyoung’s splintered pain and joshua’s mocking impressions. you stopped paying attention to mingyu, so much so that you relaxed.

you made no effort to move. you might have been inclined had mingyu not causally placed his hand on your hip, drumming faint rhythms against your thigh. you balanced yourself lightly, with a hand on his shoulder—fingers etching stars against his skin like second nature.

it wasn’t until someone had commented on how comfortable you looked that you shifted. you turned your head at the exact moment that he had.

“gyu?”

“did you-”

too close, your brain lit up with alarms and alerts blaring in your ears in the seconds that your lips almost brushed against one another. he was an almost, though you had no time to think about it.

you realized, all too suddenly, that those alarms were tangible as soonyoung hastily tried to put out the bonfire.

you scattered. pulled apart from each other as you took off in different directions.

you could have sworn that he tried to hold your hand, in the faintest moments when you stood. you swore you could feel the warmth of his palm and his fingers pressing constellations against yours.

you were never great at holding on.

you retreated, like fleeing the scene of a crime.

quite literally.

cheol was your witness, wandering to the end of the beach where the rocks met the waves. it was as fast as your legs could carry you, hoping that exhaustion wouldn’t kick in too suddenly. bolting down the beach without looking back.

( perhaps, you were thankful to your younger self for double knotting your shoes. )

you were desperate not to look back, not at the devastation on your friend’s face or whatever blush you could see on mingyu’s face from the dim embers.

it was enough distraction for you, but even more so when seungcheol all but pulled you into the water.

the ocean always seemed to ground you, waves chilling your legs as you held the hem of your skirt. and though you hated the fact that your converse were down soaked, you waded further in.

“are you okay?” he asked, passing you the lit papered apology.

“no,” you respond, trying your best to breath out the feelings with every puff.

you loved the ocean, but that was before you threw your infatuation into it.

#svt mingyu #seventeen mingyu #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #fanfiction #kpop scenarios #m: mingyu #a: yoontothemoon #svt angst #seventeen angst

130 notes · View notes

imdoingthismspaintadventure · 5 years

Text

Worm 2.4 - In which Emma and her friends are utter monsters

“Nobody likes her. Nobody wants her here,” Julia said.

“Such a loser. She didn’t even turn in the major project for art, last Friday,” Sophia responded.

“If she’s not going to try, then why is she even coming to school?”

Ooh goodie! This chapter is already starting out fucked!

Despite the way the conversation sounded, they were talking to me. They were just pretending to talk to one another. It was both calculating in how they were managing plausible deniability while at the same time they were acting totally juvenile by pretending I wasn’t there. A blend of immaturity mixed with craftiness in a way only high schoolers could manage. I would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it, if it hadn’t been at my expense.

Wildbow captures the malignant pettiness of high school bullying so well. This is already making me mad with how ..real it is. The crude but effective phychological abuse.

The moment I had left the classroom, Emma, Madison and Sophia had crowded me into a corner, with another six girls backing them up. I was unable to squeeze past them without getting pushed or elbowed back, so I couldn’t do much more than lean against the window, listening while eight of the girls were rattling off an endless series of taunts and jibes. Before one girl was even finished, another started up. All the while, Emma stayed back and stayed quiet, the slightest of smiles on her face. I couldn’t meet the eyes of any of the other girls without them barking a fresh torrent of insults directly to my face, so I just glared at Emma.

I bet Emma is just relishing in all the social power she has here, letting her minions do everything for her and just looking amused at Taylor’s expense

Social hierarchy is such a cancerous thing in high school.

“Ugliest girl in our grade.”

They were barely thinking about what they were saying and a lot of the insults were wildly off the mark or contradictory. One would say I was a slut, for example, then another might say a guy would puke before he touched me. The point wasn’t being witty, being smart or being on target. It was more about delivering the feeling behind the words over and over, hammering it in. If I’d had just a moment to butt in, maybe I could have come up with retorts. If I could just kill their momentum, they probably wouldn’t get back into the easy rhythm again. That said, I couldn’t find the words, and there weren’t any openings in the conversation where I wouldn’t just be talked over.

They are taking the approach of trying to land as many hits as possible, without even bothering for coherency or effectiveness. Just a nice way for them to say to her how much they fucking loathe her.

Lovely

While this particular tactic was new to me, I’d been putting up with stuff like this for a year and a half, now. At a certain point, I’d come to the conclusion that it was easier to sit back and take it, when it came to most things. They wanted me to fight back, because everything was stacked in their favor. If I stood up for myself and they still ‘won’, then it only served to feed their egos. If I came out ahead in some way, then they got more persistent and mean for the next time. So for much the same reason I hadn’t fought Madison for the homework she had taken from me, I just leaned against the wall next to the window and waited for them to get bored with their game or get hungry enough to leave and go have their lunches.

Ugghghghghghghg

The whole situation is just horrible. If she fights back they would call her crazy or dangerous or pathetic and they will intensify their abuse. But just taking it like this can’t be good for her psyche, with all the constant and relentless aggresion.

“What does she use to wash her face? A Brillo pad?”

“She should! She’d look better!”

“Never talks to anybody. Maybe she knows she sounds like a retard and keeps her mouth shut.”

“No, she’s not that smart.”

No more than three feet behind Emma, I could see Mr. Gladly leaving his classroom. The tirade didn’t stop as I watched him tuck a stack of folders under one arm, find his keys and lock the door.

“If I were her, I’d kill myself,” one of the girls announced.

Mr. Gladly turned to look me in the eyes.

First off, that kys comment made me considerably even more disgusted

Second, Mr Gladly, you can see it happening, right now! Please do something! Even if it is just breaking this up with your presence.

“So glad we don’t have gym with her. Can you imagine seeing her in the locker room? Gag me with a spoon.”

I don’t know what expression I had on my face, but I know I didn’t look happy. No less than five minutes ago, Mr. Gladly had been trying to convince me to go with him to the office and tell the principal about the bullying. I watched him as he gave me a sad look, shifted the file folders to his free hand and then walked away.

GLADLY YOU INCREDIBLE PIECE OF SHIT

Way to prove how ineffective the school system would be, with just a single action

Most friendly and approachable teacher? More like most utterly spineless coward

I was stunned. I just couldn’t wrap my head around how he could just ignore this. When he had been trying to help me, had he just been covering his own ass, doing what was required of him in the face of a situation he couldn’t ignore? Had he just given up on me? After trying to help, in his own completely ineffective way, after I turned his offer for help down twice, he just decided I just wasn’t worth the effort?

I really hope Gladly isn’t just rationalizing this as being fine because Taylor refused his help. Because that ISNT HOW THAT WORKS

YOU’RE A GROWN-ASS ADULT, YOU SHOULD KNOW NOT TO LIMPLY WALK AWAY FROM A GROUP OF STUDENTS ABUSING ANOTHER STUDENT TO THE POINT OF CALLING FOR HER SUICIDE. EVEN IF SHE REFUSES YOUR HELP, IT IS YOUR DUTY AS HER TEACHER AND AS A FUCKING HUMAN BEING

“You should have seen her group fail in class just now. It was painful to watch.”

OH AND YOU ALL CAN ALSO GO TO HELL WITH THE ASSIGNMENT BULLSHIT

I clenched my fist, then forced myself to relax it. If we were all guys, this scenario would be totally different. I was in the best shape of my life. I could have swung a few punches from the very start, caused a bloody nose or two, maybe. I know I would have lost the fight in the end, getting shoved to the ground by force of numbers and kicked while I was down, but things would have ended there, instead of dragging on like they were here. I’d hurt physically for days afterwards, but I’d at least have had the satisfaction of knowing some of the others were hurting too, and I wouldn’t have to sit through this barrage of insults. If there was enough damage done, the school would have to take notice, and they wouldn’t be able to ignore the circumstances of a one-against-nine fight. Violence gets attention.

But things didn’t work that way here. Girls played dirty. If I decked Emma, she would run to the office with some fabricated story, her friends backing up her version of events. For most, ratting to the faculty was social suicide, but Emma was more or less top dog. If she went to the principal, people would only take things more seriously. By the time I got back to school, they would have spread the story through the grapevine in a way that made me look like a total psycho. Things would get worse. Emma would be seen as the victim and girls who had previously ignored the bullying would join in on Emma’s behalf.

One of the reasons why psychological abuse is so much more insidious than phisical abuse in many cases. It is so much harder to fight against.

“And she smells,” one girl said, lamely.

“Like expired grape and orange juice,” Madison cut in with a little laugh. Again, bringing up the juice? I suspected that one had been her idea.

Madison, fuck off

It seemed like they were running out of steam. I figured it was just a minute or two before they got bored and walked away.

It seemed Emma got the same impression, because she stepped forward. The group parted to give her room.

“What’s the matter, Taylor?” Emma said, “You look upset.”

Emma, fuck off

Her words didn’t seem to fit the situation. I had maintained my composure for however long they had been at it. What I’d been feeling was more a mixture of frustration and boredom than anything else. I opened my mouth to say something. A graceless “Fuck you” would have sufficed.

That Taylor is so jaded that this doesn’t even affect her that much is so fucking depressing

“So upset you’re going to cry yourself to sleep for a straight week?” she asked.

My words died in my throat as I processed her words.

.....You just pulled some psychological bullshit didn’t you?

Almost a year before we had started high school, I had been at her house, the both of us eating breakfast and playing music way too loud. Emma’s older sister had come downstairs with the phone. We’d turned down the music, and my dad had been on the other end, waiting to tell me in a broken voice that my mom had died in a car accident

....Oh no. No no no no

I see what Emma might have just done and it is fucking evil

And this confirms that her mom died instead of her and Danny just breaking up...Fuck

Emma’s sister had given me a ride to my place, and I bawled the entire way there. I remember Emma crying too, out of sympathy, maybe. It could have been the fact that she thought my mom was the coolest adult in the world. Or perhaps it was because we really were best friends and she had no idea how to help me.

....What happened to you Emma? What made you so fucked up? How did you change so much. You cried about her mom, you were or at least seemed decent once!

I didn’t want to think about the month that had followed, but fragments came to mind without my asking. I could remember overhearing my dad berating my mother’s body, because she’d been texting while driving, and she was the only one to blame. At one point, I barely ate for five straight days, because my dad was such a wreck that I wasn’t on his radar. I’d eventually turned to Emma for help, asking to eat at her place for a few days. I think Emma’s mom figured things out, and gave my dad a talking to, because he started pulling things together. We’d established our routine, so we wouldn’t fall apart as a family again.

Knowing Danny he probably blamed himself more than he blamed her. And he shutting down like that... oh god.

And the fact that Emma was a shining light in all this is just so... twisted

Now Taylor doesn’t even have the moments of respite and support from that anymore. When Emma betrayed her, she betrayed her completely and utterly. These memories are retroactively tainted because of her

It was a month after my mom had died that Emma and I had found ourselves sitting on the bridge of a kid’s play structure in the park, our rear ends cold from the damp wood, sipping coffee we’d bought from the Donut Hole. We didn’t have anything to do, so we had just been walking around and talking about whatever. Our wandering had taken us to the playground, and we were resting our heels.

“You know, I admire you,” she had said, abruptly.

This sad and beautifully bitterweet memory, absolutely corrupted

“Why?” I had responded, completely mystified about the fact that someone gorgeous and amazing and popular like her could find something to admire in me.

“You’re so resilient. After your mom died, you were totally in pieces, but you’re so together after a month. I couldn’t do that.”

Past Emma makes me rage and fucking cry.

She honesly seemed like a good friend and isn’t that terrifying? That a close friend, a trusted friend, could backstab you like that?

I could remember my admission, “I’m not resilient. I can hold it together during the day, but I’ve cried myself to sleep for a straight week.”

That had been enough to open the floodgates, right there. She gave me her shoulder to cry on, and our coffee was cold before I was done.

AND THERE IT FUCKING IS

Emma you fucking monster

How dare you

Now, as I gaped at Emma, wordless, her smile widened. She remembered what I had said, then. She knew the memories it would evoke. At some point, that recollection had crossed her mind, and she had decided to weaponize it. She’d been waiting to drop it on me.

You’re so fucking repulsive

Fuck me, it worked. I felt the trail of a tear on my cheek. My power roared at the edges of my consciousness, buzzing, pressuring me. I suppressed it.

“She is! She’s crying!” Madison laughed.

Angry at myself, I rubbed my hand over my cheek to brush the tear away. More were already welling up, ready to take its place.

“It’s like you have a superpower, Emma!” one of the girls tittered.

You all better be thankful you’re not bug food at this point

I had taken off my backpack so I could lean against the wall. I reached to pick it up, but before I could, a foot hooked through the strap and dragged it away from me. I looked up and saw the owner of the foot – dark skinned, willowy Sophia – smirking at me.

“Oh em gee! What’s she doing?” one of the girls said.

Sophia was leaning against the wall, one foot casually resting on top of my backpack. I didn’t think it was worth fighting her over, if it gave her an opportunity to continue her game of keep-away. I left the bag where it was and shoved my way through the gathered girls, bumping an onlooker with my shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. I ran into the stairwell and out the doors on the ground floor.

Ok Sophia you can go die as well.

What an absolutely horrible group of people, holy shit.

I fled. I didn’t check, but chances were they were watching from the window at the end of the hallway. It didn’t really matter. The fact that I had just promised to pay thirty five bucks of my own money for a World Issues textbook to replace the one that had been soaked with grape juice wasn’t my top concern. Even if it was pretty much all the money I had left after buying the pieces for my costume. My art midterm was in my bag as well, newly repaired. I knew I wouldn’t get any of it back in one piece, if at all.

God this feels so hopeless.

The school is watching this and seeing how it’s making her miss classes and violate deadlines and they do nothing

No, my primary concern was getting out of there. I wasn’t going to break the promise I had made to myself. No using powers on them. That was the line I wasn’t crossing. Even if I did something utterly innocuous, like give them all lice, I didn’t trust myself to stop there. I didn’t trust myself to keep from offering blatant hints that I had powers or spoiling my secret identity just to see the looks on their faces when they realized the girl they had been tormenting was a bona-fide superhero. It was something I couldn’t help but daydream about, but I knew the long term ramifications would spoil that.

That is a sweet revenge fantasy, but yeah, compromising your secret identity isn’t worth it. There’s already a crazy dragon who wants you dead if he ever escapes

Perhaps most important, I rationalized, was keeping the two worlds separate. What use was escapism, if the world I was escaping to was muddled with the people and things I was trying to avoid?

I feel you there, Taylor.

Even without any problems like you have, I would cringe if my different worlds (university, family, friends, online...) collided

Before the thought of going back to school had even crossed my mind, I found myself wondering what I was going to do to fill my afternoon.

...You’re totally going to consider TT’s proposal right now, aren’t you?

#Worm #Worm liveblog #worm parahumans #parahumans #parahumans liveblog #wildbow #Worm 2.4 #Arc 2

18 notes · View notes