#even though he throws the word ''maybe'' or ''perhaps'' in there to indicate that he doesn't know tenzō's internal workings

[hiatuswhore]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: Yeah so this hiatus has been so criminal. Honestly my “writers block” has just been insecurity. I’ve gotten into this bad habit of comparing my writing styles to others and that is such a viscous and toxic self attack. Long story short, I’m a little dummy who needs to remember why I got into fanfic writing in the first place, to have fun. If you feel like it. Please please please send feedback. There’s one final part left. Maybe some bonus chapters with the new season.

♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.

♕ WORD COUNT: 4.7K

♕ WARNINGS: None

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BLINK. SMILE. NOD. You remind yourself every few seconds. Edwina leads the conversation with a jubilant smile.

Meanwhile, you tally each time Kate’s gaze meets your own as she watches you walk a tightrope, waiting for an inevitable fall. You sit out of place, Kate on your right and your mother on your left. Both rubbing the mustard yellow onto Edwina’s arms, your nose scrunching at the pungent wafts of Haldi. Each time Edwina’s gaze meets your own, you smile. You tilt your head, doing what you do best, offering your unwavering support—no matter how much your chest knots.

“Didi, are you okay? You are so quiet,” Edwina says, leaning forward to capture your gaze. You smile, lying through your teeth, “You are to be wed soon. I shall miss you, is all Bon.”

“You must calm yourself, Bon. Keep still,” Kate smiles down at a jittery Edwina. Her joy practically spills out, her every move indicating pure excitement.

”It is all so strange. I have faced a thousand tomorrows, but they all have been leading to this one,” You pause. Tomorrow. Every laugh, jest, slight—all of it leading to tomorrow. The day you make a fool of yourself—the mark of your first-ever regret. Though your mother speaks, the words do not reach you. The sinking in your chest renders you silent, almost queasy.

”Oh, it has...caused you doubts?” Kate’s cautious tone has your ears perking up, and your absent gaze finds Edwina. Your mother nudges you with a gentle smile, a reminder of her presence.

”Bringing the wedding forward is a sign of genuine feeling, but...well,” Edwina pauses, a sigh leaving her lips as she finds her words. Your heart was banging against your ribcage as Edwina glanced at you. “It has unnerved me. Didi, perhaps you should truly consider Lord Beauregard’s proposal. He’s a wonderful companion to you, and he seems to care. That way, we can navigate all this together.”

”I don’t know, Bon. It’s a lot to consider,” You tilt your head, a tight-lipped smile across your lips, "but right now is not about me or Lord Beauregard. It’s about you and the Viscount.”

“Your sister is right. Rest assured, Edwina, the Viscount adores you. He has devotedly courted you and made his intentions clear from our first arrival. Even going out of his way to procure (Y/n)’s and Kate’s approval. There is no lady better suited for the Viscount,” Your mother’s adoration beams on her prized child, your expression faltering nearly imperceptibly.

“I just—I still wish that when he looks at me, I could be certain that he truly loves me. Like—like—“ Edwina looks around as though the words sit in the room with all of you. Then her gaze finds yours again, “Like how Lord Beauregard looks at (Y/n). His fondness for

her is so evident, written right on his face. I fear, in fact, that the Viscount does not look at me often enough to even tell.”

Your mother and Kate glance at each other with a collective sigh. You lower your gaze, fiddling with the top lace of your peach gown and swallowing the sizzling golf ball in your throat. Kate speaks softly, this time avoiding your direction entirely, “Looks can be powerful, Bon, but also fleeting. Displays of mere passion, perhaps. Nothing more.”

”So the Viscount feels little passion for me?” Edwina exclaims, amusement dancing in her gaze as your mother chuckles. You force a chuckle from your lips, quiet and timid, the antithesis of your very being.

Clearing your throat, forcing a smile to the surface, you grin, “What Kate is failing at saying is that true love is different. It’s complicated and unpredictable. That’s the fun of it. It’s there when you least expect it. You worry now, but fear not, Bon, when it clicks, it clicks.”

“Since when have you become so knowledgeable about love, Miss, avoiding marriage and love?” Your mother teases. Each of your giggles fills the room, and for a moment, only a moment, the dread no longer exists. For a moment you are back in India, in your childhood home.

You cringe at the sudden intrusion, turmeric overwhelming your nostrils as Edwina’s hand gently swipes the mixture across your cheek. Her saccharine giggle contrasted with your wide-eyed stare. She speaks with a whimsical glint in her eyes. One like your own but doe-eyed and hopeful, not calculated and mischievous. “It is said, when spread on an unmarried person, Haldi will help them find a worthy partner that brings the complicated and unpredictable excitement too.”

”Well, Haldi can mind their business,” You tilt your head with a sarcastic smile, earning your mother's pointed stare. Kate chuckles and shakes her. Edwina turns to Kate, who offers a warning stare.

“Now, now. You shall receive it too,” Edwina says, stroking the Haldi across Kate’s cheeks. You fail to ignore the Haldi on your cheeks. It sits like a reminder that tomorrow will come whether you are prepared or not. You shall watch him marry Edwina. Your sister, nieces, and nephews shall be his—but never you.

“Hey!” You exclaim, once again pulled from your thoughts as your mother spreads Haldi across your chest. Reaching into the mixture only takes seconds before the four of you make a mess of it. The giggles are seemingly endless.

Despite the joyous moment, it’s fleeting as the hours seem to fly. Before you know it, you stand in a lavender gown that matches Kate's. You maintain an expression void of emotion, seemingly zoning out—the subtle indicators, near imperceptible. Light sweat coated your brow, and deep sighs left you as though the air was limited. You thank every and any god above for the smokescreen that keeps your beloved family from noticing. Sitting by the window as servants help Edwina prepare, you watch as Kate retrieves the gold bracelet with emeralds dancing across the band.

Edwina stands in front of the full-length mirror. Her eyebrows pinch at the sight she catches in the reflection. Her smile was curious and of awe, “Didi? What are those?”

”I brought them with us from home. I knew this season would be a success,” Kate smiles down at Edwina as she closely inspects them with a warm gaze. You keep your gaze outside the window, willing yourself to ignore every ailment that plagues you. Far too busy pondering potential ways to avoid attending Edwina’s pending nuptials.

Edwina’s head tilts as she searches for familiarity, “they are quite beautiful. How have I never seen them before?”

“They belonged to my mother. Amma wore them on her wedding day and saved them,” Edwina asks if they were saved for Kate. Kate chuckles lightly, “I brought them for you. I insist, beautiful bangles for a beautiful bride.”

”Will you wear them with me?” Edwina asks, but Kate shakes her head, assuring Edwina she will be no bride any time soon. Edwina’s gaze shifts to you, “Well then, Didi, you may very well be a bride soon. Could you wear one with me?”

“Bon—“ You sigh, your gaze meets Kate. The pity in your eyes only furthers the stir in your chest.

“I’m so nervous, but you are the bravest person I know. I don’t know, it may be silly, but wearing this, I shall have a piece of Kate with me up at the altar and knowing you’re wearing it too,” Edwina pauses, her gaze pleading as she holds the bracelet out to you, “It’ll be like we’re in this together. Maybe I can channel some of your courage.”

At the touch of your fingertips, the metal chills against your skin as it soon shackles you to your living nightmare. As Edwina returns to getting ready, you visibly falter for the first time. While your sweet little sister fails to see it, Kate’s quickly at your side. She excuses the both of you slyly, your hands trembling in hers as you both exit the room.

“Bon—“ Kate says, but you offer her a sharp, “don’t.”

You walk with haste to the nearest glass, throwing down a quick shot, ignoring Kate’s advisory against alcohol. Your eyes are misty as your defenses crumble around you. Taking a deep breath, you quickly steel yourself, marching back into the room, rendering Kate unable to console you.

It all passes in a blur as you stare absently out of the window once more. The arriving guests. The bracelets. The wedding gown. Your mother's gushing of Edwina’s beauty in her gown only fuels the fire that slowly burns from the inside out.

“Didi,” you gaze from the window onto your approaching sister. She smiles warmly, taking both your hands. Your heart caught in your throat when she said, “You love him.”

“Wha—I—uh?” You stammer, eyes widening as you try to wrap your brain around her easygoing persona.

“You should not be afraid to tell Lord Beauregard how you feel. You have been nothing like yourself, and I’ve forgotten you have not seen Lord Beauregard in some time now, and you shall see him today. Just tell him,” Edwina says, smiling sweetly. The panic fades into a tremendous relief as your shoulders fall.

“Today is your day. Don’t worry about me, Bon,” You smile, gently squeezing her hands.

“Oh, my beautiful girls,” Your mother says, her gaze moving between you. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, her eyebrow pinching, but the door opening steals her attention away. Concurrently, your body tenses.

“Come. Let us put all the nasty gossip behind us for once and for all,” Your mother stands, taking one of your hands and Edwina’s. Kate joins, taking your own and Edwina’s free hands. She offers you a comforting squeeze. “Let us give the ton a wedding to remember and show them who we truly are.”

Outside the curtains, you stand at Kate's side as if a prisoner were standing before the guillotine. Your corset seemingly constricting as your mind fails to move your legs. You grip Kate’s hand tighter, your ears ringing so loudly you can hardly hear your whisper to her, “I fear I cannot do this, Didi.”

”You are the strongest person I know, Bon. You can. I’m with you all the way. For better or worse,” she whispers. Looking up at her, you blink back tears, and a nervous chuckle leaves you with a final quick whisper: “It sounds as if we are to be wed.”

Kate lets out a soft as she gently pulls you along with her. Servants pull the sheer curtains away as you both pass through. Your gaze finds William in seconds, sitting with Aunt the Queen. His gaze was cold and focused on the groom. You never meet the groom's gaze despite it searing a hole into your head.

You curtsy to the Queen, and William’s gaze remains behind you. As you take your place behind Kate, your gaze meets the grooms for only a second—your breath hitch as you approach the entrance, awaiting the inevitable. A smile takes your face at the sight of your mother and Edwina. Despite everything, your dear little sister always amazes you with her beautiful presence.

Archbishop begins the ceremony, but his words do not reach you. The ringing of your ears grows louder, your right hand soon fiddling at your side. Your smile falters into an absent stare as the bangle on your wrist becomes more noticeable than the gown that covers much of your skin. You let out a shaky exhale, your left hand crushing the stems of your bouquet.

Squaring your shoulders, you take a deep breath and stare forward. A weak smile on your lips as Benedict shoots you a wink—the calm brief as your gaze meets the groom. You refocus on Benedict, but it’s mere seconds, and you both return. The bobbing of his Adams apple, light sweat above his brow, his gaze unfocused, hazy—perhaps you imagine it. You are in Edwina’s place, standing before Anthony, not with a joyous smile but a smug one. A reminder that each day would be a challenge, one you’d both happily accept—a future.

“My lord,” The Archbishop shatters the fantasy with a firmness, tearing your gaze from him; you focus on Kate’s shoulder.

A brief reprieve as the wedding crashes violently with the present reality. Your left hand grips the bouquet stems so tightly it rips beneath the force of your palm as your right hand trembles at your side, the bengal sliding menacingly around your wrist. You tense as your racing heart becomes your only focus, clashing with the loud ringing in your ears.

Anthony looks around the room, and again, his gaze finds you. Edwina’s eyebrows pinch as she follows his gaze. You do not look up from Kate’s shoulder, confident that one wrong move shall bring your end. Even as Edwina turns back, prompting Anthony, his gaze flicks to your unwavering stare on Kate’s shoulder. Your trembling hand matches the pace of your raging heart as you force your tears to remain in your lids.

“I, Lord Anthony Bridgerton,” Archbishop recites, his words ringing loudly in your ears as they hit you head-on. The bengal slips from your wrist, releasing you from its confines. Your eyes close with a sigh of relief as everything quiets. Anthony stands before you when your eyes open, holding the bengal out to you. You glance at Kate, her gaze panicked as she looks between Anthony and yourself.

Lifting your hand, you falter for a second; the moment has lasted far longer than it should. Your gaze locks with his own as you reach out cautiously. His thumb brushes against your own faintly at the touch of the metal. Muttering a thank you and apology, you return to your spot with your gaze low and lips pursed, holding the bengal not placing it back on.

“I need a moment!” Edwina shouts, her voice echoing through the silence. Your eyes widen, and she’s rushing down the aisle from the altar before you can even process. A sea of indiscernible chatter fills the room as you watch your mother rush after Edwina. It all soon returns, the ringing in your ears and your chest constricting. William rises from his seat, his gaze gentle as he stares at you. You look everywhere but at Anthony. Kate grabs your hand, pulling you back down the aisle out of the ceremony.

”—we will call for tea, and once you have something in your stomach, you will be strong enough to go back out there. The Viscount—“ You stand in the doorway, Kate standing a few paces in front of you, your mother a few in front of her. Edwina paces the room, taking deep, haggard breaths. Your mother fumbles to recover the moment, “The Viscount will understand, yes Kate? (Y/n), dear, perhaps you might find that tea—“

“It is not tea that I want; it is the truth!” You freeze in place as Edwina looks at you in a way you have never seen her look at anyone. Though words enter your mind, they do not leave your parted lips. Your mother voices her confusion as you stand as a deer in headlights, teary-eyed and guilty. Edwina continues mercilessly, “Still uncharacteristically quiet, sister, how telling of your deceitful nature!”

“I don’t understand what is happening,” Your mother's gaze bounces between you. Kate sidesteps in a failed attempt to hide you from Edwina’s view, your presence only furthering her rage.

“I shall tell you what is going on, Mama. Your daughter does not love chaos, as she claims. She loves destruction! Decimation at the tips of her fingers, slowly poisoning all she touches!” You blink through your tears, unable to find the words or even begin an explanation.

“Edwina—“ Kate interjects and appears to be the only intervention that deters from her verbal assault.

“Oh, you cannot deny it now, Kate! You enable her! You always have. The two of you are constantly deceiving me. Together in your deception! You knew! Didn’t you? You knew of her feelings for him, ” Edwina narrows her eyes at Kate, the implication of her words giving your Mother much-needed clarity. Meeting your mother's gaze, your head tilts, all but pleading for comfort without words.

“Alright, that is enough. No good can come from this at present. Let us all take a moment to calm ourselves, shall we,” Your mother says, moving to Edwina’s side. She sits Edwina down, dissolving into a bundle of tears. You try to voice an apology, but your Mother turns to you, speaking sternly, “I said that is enough. You have done enough today.”

”Mama, please. I didn’t want this, please. I’m sorry,” You cry, panting softly as your words spill out. The ringing in your ears returns and grows louder steadily with each passing second. Kate interjects only to receive the same sternness, “And you. You have kept so very much from me.”

”Mama, please,” You cry; reaching out for her, she pulls away and points to the door.

“Anywhere else right now, (Y/n),” She says. Rushing out of the doors, everything splinters into a heap of colors and sounds. You pant as though you have run miles rather than mere steps. When you rush into the first set of doors you find, you rush past several faces you cannot make out. Your breathing choppy and staggered, your hand trembling without pause as you pace vehemently.

“(Y/n),” You cringe at the sound of your name, shaking your head as sobs rattle you to your core. He takes your hands, guiding you to the floor. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not William. I’ve ruined everything; I’m a terrible sister—a terrible person,” You cry, shaking your head; he places a hand on your cheek, stilling you as he wipes a tear.

“You’re far from a terrible person. Stubborn, sure, but not terrible,” He chuckles, tilting his head down to meet your gaze.

“You don’t understand—“ Panting endlessly, William keeps his gaze locked on you and takes a deep breath in and out. He continues to do so until you follow, and even then, he continues for a few moments.

”I’ve made my intentions with you—my uh, my feelings very clear. And when I realized your impact on Anthony and me, I was angry and jealous. He’s so at ease with you even when you’re annoying him, and you seem to forget anyone else is around when the two of you interact,” William says with a slight smile. Your face falls at his words.

“William, I am so sorry—“ Your voice wavers and William chuckles, shaking his head before you can continue. He nudges your side with a grin.

“No apology needed. I only wish for you to be happy (Y/n) just as I wish for Anthony, and with time, your sister will share this sentiment. Of that, I am sure. I must warn you, though, things will grow far worse before they grow better,” William says, resting your head on his shoulder; he kisses the top of your head. You close your eyes, refocusing on deep breaths.

After a few minutes you clear your throat, “I should go, the last thing I need is another scandal.”

“You’re nothing but trouble, Miss Sharma,” William grins, shaking his head. A giggle leaves you as you wrap your arms around him, squeezing his tight.

”Thank you for this,” You mutter, squeezing a little tighter as he kisses the crown of your head once more. As you head back to the room, you pause as Kate sits outside with her head in her hands. She looks up at the sound of your approaching steps, quickly rising at your sight. Neither of you says a word before silently agreeing you both must face this head-on, accomplices. You knock gently upon the door, and Edwina’s face manages to sink even further at the sight of you.

“What?” She asks coldly; before you can get a word in, Kate inquires about your mother, but Edwina cuts her off, “You seem to know all. How could I possibly offer any insight of my own?”

”Edwina, please. Your anger is with me, not Kate,” You say, earning a huff in response.

“Mother is off, getting some air,” Edwina opens the door wider before moving from it entirely. You take a cautious step inside, still lingering by the door as Kate closes it behind the two of you.

“Edwina, I never wanted to hurt you. By the time I realized, it felt far too late to say something. So, I thought that I would swallow it down to avoid this because I wanted you to

be happy. I know you wanted this badly, but I didn’t realize how deep this ran. But it does not matter; I am unfit to be Viscountess, but you, you’re perfect for it,” Your voice wavers as her teary gaze meets your own. Edwina scoffs, shaking her head.

“He said the same thing. I half expected to discover that the two of you prepared it ahead of time. Perhaps it speaks to your compatibility or your deceitful nature,” Edwina shakes her head at you, her gaze cold as ice.

“Edwina, (Y/n) has always supported. You and I both know she is not deceitful. Misguided, certainly. Stubborn almost all the time. But she’s our sister,” Kate says, eyebrows pinching as her head tilts. Edwina’s gaze bounces between the two of you. Her eyes land on Kate.

“I do not know which pains me more. Both your betrayals or your pity,” Edwina says, her head held high with a conviction you never knew her to be capable of.

“Edwina, we are sisters—“ Kate takes a step toward her, reaching out for her hands but halts at Edwina’s next words, “Half-sister, with the misfortune of having (Y/n) as a sister. I want you both to recognize that I am a grown woman and for the first time in my life, I can make a decision based on what I would like.”

Edwina glances over at you, her at ease presence furthered unraveling your nerves, “I have already imagined the life I would lead with Lord Bridgerton as Viscountess at Aubrey Hall. It lives in my mind and is mine to do with as I like. So, if I choose to marry Anthony, it will be because it pleases me and no one else. I need you both to understand that. If I go through with this wedding, it will have nothing to do with either of you.”

You swallow thickly every version of reality where you have no place in her life evident. Kate's reassurances fall victim to the high pitch. Like nails to a chalkboard in your ears. Your personalized torture.

Kate remains at your side, the silence jarring. Uncertain of an appropriate reaction, you find yourself in a hazy void. You refuse the tears pushing at the edge of your lids, no words in reach to synthesize the depths of the pit in your chest. Time fuses into a distorted blend of unrelenting dread. The footman delivers the summons, the neat handwriting familiar.

Kate hesitates as you ask her to join you. Would it fuel the fire? Further the divide? Perhaps. Even still, you both cross the silks and satins of the entryway—the wedding hall. It's still as breathtaking as you all left it.

”You sent word for me?” Your eyebrows pinch as Anthony's words linger in the air. Kate answers as your lips merely part, and no words leave you. You glance at Kate, who mirrors your visible confusion. Approaching footsteps carrying the answers to each lingering question.

Edwina enters like the calm before a storm. Her hands clasped in front of her, her gait determined, and her mindset. She passes Kate without sparing her a glance, Edwina’s gaze bouncing between you and Anthony, “I have made my decision. I thought it best that you both hear it from me.”

“Edwina, perhaps we should speak privately,” Kate suggests, earning a mirthless chuckle.

“No, and quite frankly, I am giving our sister a courtesy I was not granted,” Edwina keeps her head high, her presence delicate yet commanding. She turns to Anthony, who has not looked away from you. A rare sight of pure vulnerability in your eyes as you look at Edwina. Silently pleading for forgiveness. A soft sigh leaves Edwina as she keeps her eyes on Anthony, not continuing until she has his full attention, “I cannot marry you, Lord Bridgerton. You cannot provide me with what it is I want. What it is that I deserve. What everyone deserves. I may not know exactly what true love feels like, but I certainly know what it is not. It is not deception or, wandering eyes, or a role to be fulfilled. I cannot marry you because I cannot betray myself. You will never meet my eyes in the same manner that you met my sisters on that altar today. You will never...”

Edwina falters, a sigh escaping her as she briefly glances toward you and back to Anthony, “You will never look at me the same way. I would be your Viscountess, your wife, the mother of your children, but I would never be yours because you’ll be hers.”

Your eyes find Anthony as her words seep into your bones. Edwina addresses you and Kate with words of contempt and eyes of sorrow. Her retreating form leaves a heavy silence as Kate rushes after her. Neither of you move, Anthony at the altar and yourself a few paces down the aisle.

“I thought I taught Edwina nothing, but I fear she too shares the ability to scorch the earth in a fit of rage,” You chuckle, the tight-lipped smile dissolving into a huff, “I have ruined everything.”

”You speak as though you did it alone,” Anthony says, meeting your gaze in the same spot where he was meant to recite his vows.

“I should go,” You whisper, watching as he glances off, seemingly pondering something. Clearing your throat, you square your shoulders, “Lord Bridgerton.”

”You should stay,” He says, an odd ease to his demeanor. You can only wonder if he feels the turmoil that rages within you. He tilts his head, “Your sister is braver and wiser than us both. She had the courage to act on what she sensed between us. And here we are, you ready to flee and myself standing perfectly still. We’ve felt it for months.”

You inhale sharply, and the reality is apparent: you cannot escape this. Speaking hardly above a whisper, you fidget with the skirts of your dress, “I’ve lit more than enough fires today. If I were wise, I would go.”

”Then, only for a moment, my pyromaniac, play the fool with me. Humor me in this inevitability, a fate that cannot be. Explore the untenable depths of our desires for this moment only before we face the reality waiting for us out there,” Anthony holds out his hand to you. His smile does not reach his eyes as you stare at his hand before you.

A sigh leaves you as you chew on your bottom lip. You cross your arms, raising your head high, “If I am to play the fool, you will have to address me by my proper honorific, of course.”

”And what’s that?” Anthony’s eyebrows pinch as you turn your head.

“Viscount Bridgerton, of course,” You smirk as the realization slowly dawns upon him. A hearty laugh leaves his lips as you accept his hand with a gentle grin.

“The sky could be falling in, and you would find a way to jest,” Anthony smiles as he shakes his head. You nod, chuckling beneath his gaze, far closer than you were a few seconds prior. Neither of you, aware of when or how you got so close. The warmth brings a merriment that blurs the line between what can and cannot be.

The violins.

The flowers.

The gossip eager Ton.

The bride and groom at an altar without wedding bells. ”I fear I have destroyed my relationship with my sister.”

“And I, with my best friend.”

You give his hands a gentle squeeze on your own, gasping as he pulls you forward. The touch of your lips light at the climax of your shared fantasy. As you both pull apart, the warmth chills. You are not husband and wife; you are a scandal.

A smudge on both of your reputations.

#bridgerton imagine #Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #Bridgerton x reader #Anthony Bridgerton imagine #Anthony Bridgerton x reader #Anthony Bridgerton fanfiction #Benedict Bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton imagine #Daphne bridgerton imagine #Eloise Bridgerton imagine #Penelope featherington imagine #Kate Sharma imagine #Kathani Sharma imagine #Edwina Sharma imagine #bridgerton au #Bridgerton au imagine #Anthony bridgerton au #Francesca Bridgerton imagine

[mokutone]

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image desc under readmore:

ID:

Panel one has a view into Kakashi's bedroom from just outside the open window. We look over the bed where Tenzō's Anbu mask is resting and past the flapping curtain, and see the spot where Kakashi and Tenzō are sitting. Tenzō, still crouched by the side of Kakashi's bed, is mostly hidden aside from the top of his head. Kakashi is sitting with a loose, tired posture, looking wryly out the open window. "And then you came to my apartment, " Kakashi says. "Maybe it felt safe and secluded enough to have your breakdown in. Which is flattering, but to be fair, my wards are usually immaculate."

The second panel, they are sitting, knees touching knees, facing each other. Kakashi's eyes are closed, like he's trying to force a smile, but not succeeding very well. He has one arm wrapped around himself. Tenzō is leaning forward towards Kakashi, eyebrows low over his eyes. "But I didn't plan—I didn't choose to do this, to feel this," Tenzō argues. "Who would?" Kakashi asks. He continues, "The only drawback of having trust, of having a place to be vulnerable, is that sometimes you'll have to be vulnerable in it, I guess. Hurts, huh?"

/end ID.

#my art #naruto #comics #yamato #tenzō #yamato tenzo #kakashi #im sooo pleased with the top panel. but i hate the second panel so much. the duality of a single comic page #in trying to remove himself from the subject hes speaking about (repression) kakashi uses very definite second person speech #even though he throws the word ''maybe'' or ''perhaps'' in there to indicate that he doesn't know tenzō's internal workings #to tenzō it sounds very much like ''you did this because you probably felt this. you did this about that..'' #and tenzō is very much like ''I. NOT INTENTIONALLY? I PROMISE I DIDN'T PLAN THIS!'' #tenzō feels like he's being assigned a greater agency than he felt. is i guess what im saying #if kakashi instead talked abt a situation where he acted similarly to tenzō its possible this might have given tenzō an opportunity #to understand his behavior through comparing it to kakashis. recognition of self through the other or w/e. BUT. #kakashis not a mental healthcare professional. hes ALSO just a traumatized kid. with bad coping mechanisms. trying his best. #tenzō is 13 here so kakashi is probably around 16 #thats part of why i draw him as or mention thruout this comic that hes getting frustrated or uncomfortable #hes a kid! hes not good at this! he's just Unfortunately tenzō's best option for support at the moment. literally its either Kakashi #or going to the Hokage like ''hi Hiruzen I have concerns that I might be a danger and a threat to your village.'' #''do you want me executed or banished? Really I insist it's your choice Hokage-sama. I'm really not picky."

[probably-writing-x]

Fault.

Summary: you’re an incredible writer!!! could you write conrad x reader where she is belly’s best friend and goes with them to cousins for the summers, and she tries really hard to not like conrad because belly does but he likes her back and they start secretly hooking up/dating? hell maybe even throw in that jeremiah likes her too 😂 and everyone finds out somehow, i live for the messy drama 😝

Warnings: Sexual references and innuendos, 18+ DNI

Cousins had been a part of your childhood like it had been for Belly. You’d met her in kindergarten and been inseparable ever since, so you were practically the third sibling to her and Steven. You spent countless summer days with them, then came home with Belly and spent the rest of the year counting down until next summer would come around.

When you were young, it was just fun and sun and summer and Belly’s undying crush on the older brother. Not too much of that had changed as you’d grown up now - but perhaps you’d changed.

You weren’t sure when it had changed. But, one summer, it was like you looked at that older brother and saw what Belly was on about this whole time. You didn’t see him in the same infatuating way that she did, but you couldn’t deny any longer that he was attractive. There was just something in those eyes, the sort of half smile he gave you, the way his words just rolled off his tongue so smoothly. You couldn’t help it.

Once you’d came to that realisation, perhaps two summers ago, you’d done your best to completely suppress it. You ignored it. You ignored him. You avoided being alone with him, brought up Belly whenever you felt like the conversation might be shifting. You did everything in your power to stop yourself from ever feeling that way about Conrad. It wasn’t that you didn’t want something to happen - but breaking your own heart would be better than breaking your best friend’s.

But those damn eyes…

———

“It feels weird doing this drive myself,” You point out, indicating into the last street that would lead you into Cousins, “I’m used to your Mom complaining that we’re too loud.”

Belly laughs in the passenger seat, “Now you’ve just got Steven complaining.”

You glance in your rear view mirror to where Steven was resting against the window with his eyes closed, “Shut up.”

“Come on Stevie, we’re almost there,” You taunt, turning once again into the final road to the Fisher-Beck household.

Laurel hadn’t driven you this year, she had some fancy author thing to attend so she’d be meeting you next week. Belly couldn’t wait to come to Cousins, however, so you’d offered to drive the three of you.

When you pull up into the driveway, it’s like every bit of summer ignites - the start of a million memories.

Almost instantly, the door opens and Jeremiah comes hurrying out.

“Thank god you’re here!”

He opens the driver’s side door of your car and sticks his head in, grinning widely at the three of you.

“Good to see you too, Jere,” You laugh, stepping out of your seat to hug him.

He smells like mint and limes.

“We’ve got so much to catch up on,” Jeremiah comments, hurrying around to hug Belly too as Steven drags himself out of the car.

You laugh and ruffle his hair, much to his disgust, at the same moment that the front door swings open again and the other brother steps out, squinting a little at the sun. He’s wearing a navy t-shirt and grey shorts, dragging a hand through his messy hair. He jogs down the few steps from the front door and makes his way over.

“Hey!” You clear your throat, swinging your keys in your hand.

Conrad looks at you and smiles lightly, the sort that meets his eyes in a brief moment, “How was the drive?”

You shrug, “Mostly okay, I still hate all these country roads though.”

He laughs, looking down at his feet, “Yeah, I know you do. You’ll get used to it.”

You nod and both of you fall silent for a moment.

“So do you-“

“Did you-“

You both look at each other and laugh.

“You first,” He gestures towards you, stuffing his hands into his pockets soon after.

“No, um,” You shake your head, “I was just going to ask if you have plans tonight. Someone at the gas station told us there’s a drive in movie. We were thinking we could all go.”

Conrad nods, “If it’s a musical I’m not going.”

“Deal.”

You turn back to the rest of the group as Steven and Belly are grabbing bags from the trunk.

“Oh it’s so good to see you all!” Beams Susannah as you all trail inside.

She wraps Steven in a hug, does the same to Belly and then comes over to you, squeezing you tightly.

The house is no different but it always feels brighter at the start of summer, like it’s welcoming you back. You breathe it in for a second, a sigh of relief at your return.

“Alright, get settled into your rooms and everything and I’ll make us up some lunch,” Susannah encourages.

You follow behind Belly towards the room that the two of you shared, walking past the ajar door to Conrad’s room. You ignore the fluttering in your chest.

“God it’s good to be back,” Belly grins, dropping down onto the mattress and spreading out her arms.

“Yeah, it feels like forever since we’ve been here,” You nod, setting your suitcase down onto the floor and sitting yourself on the edge of the bed beside her.

She reaches over and grabs Junior Mint, setting him down on the mattress.

“I still remember when Conrad got me this,” She mumbles, brushing her thumb over the white fur.

“At the boardwalk right?” You comment, “It was that day I was sick.”

She hums in response.

You remembered that day too. Conrad had come home with a toy giraffe stuffed in his bag and told you it was meant to make you feel better. He hadn’t won it, but he paid someone else for it. You’d kept it in your suitcase until you got home - knowing it wasn’t worth upsetting Belly over. And, to this day, on the same mattress sat the same toy you’d had for all those years.

“I don’t get him these days,” Belly shakes her head, “Sometimes I’m so sure he feels the same way about me and then other times… it’s like his heart is somewhere else.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, “That’s all guys for you.”

“Not Jeremiah,” Belly laughs, “He’s been in love with you since I first brought you here.”

You laugh too, “I don’t know where you get that impression from.”

She scoffs, “You’re just blind, (Y/n).”

Belly looks up at you from where she lay and smiles, hugging the polar bear close to her chest. You smile back and ignore the slight tightness in your chest at being back here this summer - being back with the boy that your heart just seemed to pull to.

———

That night, you all start heading out to the drive in.

“Okay I’m just saying we’re not all sitting in one car to watch this movie,” Steven points out, “We won’t be able to see anything in the back.”

“You’re so dramatic, you’ll fall asleep halfway through anyway,” You roll your eyes, tugging your shoes on at the door, “I can just take my car too if it’s that big of a deal.”

Jeremiah, Belly and Steven all make their way outside, fighting over who will get shotgun in Jere’s car.

You glance back and see Conrad eventually coming down the stairs.

“Where are the others?” He frowns, grabbing his shoes and pulling them on.

“Um,” You clear your throat, “They’ve gone already, they’re going in Jere’s car, we’re taking mine.”

He nods, “I’ll drive.”

With that, he stretches out a hand to take your keys and you oblige, following behind him to where your car sat in the driveway.

Every so often, you could convince yourself that Conrad might ever feel the same way about you. It was in the little things. The glances, the comments, the smile. You could convince that small part of yourself that he was waiting for you as much as you were waiting for him. But it disappeared quickly.

But, now, seeing him behind the wheel of your car, humming along to the song playing through the radio, it felt like this could be something. You weren’t sure why. It was just a feeling.

———

By the time you get to the drive-in, it’s packed out. Conrad drives around the back and pulls into a space, nowhere near to Jere and the others.

“We can go and find them if you want,” You offer, glancing out of the window.

Conrad shrugs, “I like the peace and quiet without them.”

You laugh, “Just us then.”

The film starts and both of you sit in relative silence. You shift in your seat and cross your legs beneath you, leaning back against the chair. There’s a couple in the car beside you and your eyes drift over to them - how he sits with her head against his shoulder, his arm around her, looking down like she’s the only person in the world. You’d never had that with someone. Not that you hadn’t wanted to, or options hadn’t been there, but it just was never right for you.

And then your eyes turn back to Conrad. The light of the film catches against his skin, glowing his eyes just a little. It shadows down his jaw, darkening his jawline and brushing over the muscles. You take a deep breath. Ignore it. It wasn’t worth it.

He turns his head to look at you and you quickly look away.

“(Y/n)…”

“I’m going to grab a drink,” You say quickly, rushing to open the passenger door and scrambling out.

As soon as you’re outside, you gasp at the air like you hadn’t taken a single breath beside him. Like he’d taken them all away.

Ignore it. It wasn’t worth it.

———

“Oh my god this storm is awful,” You hiss into the air between you and Belly, snuggling under the covers of the double bed that you shared.

It was the following day and a storm had started to sweep over Cousins. There was a chill in the air all day and it had now turned into a full blown storm in the middle of the night. The rain was hammering down, wind sweeping over the houses, and thunder claps every few minutes.

“Belly,” You hiss again, “You awake?”

You’re met with the balanced, shallow breaths beside you that tell you she’s not hearing you. You sigh and shift in the bed until you’re sat on the mattress, debating your options. Sleep wouldn’t welcome you when the weather was like this. It wasn’t that you were scared of storms, they just unnerved you. Okay, you hated them.

With another clap of thunder, you step out of the bed and pull a hoodie over the crop top and shorts you’d been wearing, padding through the silent house and down the creaking steps. You wince with the creak on each one until you’re finally downstairs, stepping through into the kitchen.

“(Y/n)?” A voice speaks softly into the dark voice and you flinch instantly, spinning on your heel.

It’s Conrad.

“Con?” You frown, “Why are you awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” He returns.

He’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a forest green t-shirt. He looks cosy and innocent.

“Yeah, I just… uh-“

“You hate storms.”

You feel your cheeks heat at his words, looking down at your feet as if he’s just embarrassed you in front of no company at all.

“Come on,” He gestures with his head, his hands stuffed into his pockets, “I’m going to start the fire.”

You follow him through into the lounge and sit down on the floor beside him as he starts fixing up the fire. You hand over logs and he sets them in place, you hand over the matches and he scratches them against the box to set it alight, holding it against the paper until it ignites. The heat hits you almost instantly in the too-cold house, wrapping you in an embrace of crackling warmth.

At the same moment, another rumble of thunder sounds from outside and you visibly flinch, glancing quickly out of the window at the hammering rain. Conrad chuckles from beside you, only quietly.

“Don’t worry, we’ve had worse storms here,” He assures you.

“That doesn’t help,” You roll your eyes, drawing your knees up to your chest.

“Oh, come on, I promise it’s okay,” He nudges your shoulder, “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Conrad Fisher are you going soft on me?” You narrow your eyes at him, “You’re normally so blunt.”

He looks away with a smile on his lips, “For everyone else, maybe.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, the words escaping you. There was just something about the way he looked at you, the way his eyes just melt into you.

“You know I-“ He stops himself, taking a deep breath, “I kind of felt like things were different with us this summer.”

“D- different?”

“Don’t you?” He says, “I just feel like you’ve been… distant?”

You stop yourself from speaking again.

“And, tell me to stop, but I’m-“ He half-laughs as if it’s a way of escaping the nerves, “I’m… I just thought I was so sure that there was something between us.”

“Con-“

“And you can tell me that I’m wrong but I don’t think I am.”

“Conrad I-“ You pause, biting your lip, “I can’t.”

“Just…” He shuffles in closer to you, his hand slowly rising to your cheek, thumb brushing the skin, “Tell me to stop.”

With that, he leans in and you find yourself pulled to him too, every bone in your body finally giving in to what you wanted. Your hands move to grip his shoulder, his breath fanning over your lips as he presses his against yours, slow at first and cautious.

You practically gasp at the contact, pulling him into you as if you don’t want him to slip away. His hand moves lower from your jaw and down to your neck, fingers wrapping around the back to keep you drawn to him, his other hand moving down to your waist. His fingers slip further back to the base of your spine, guiding you back against the floor as his other hand lowers your head down softly. You pull him back to your lips, fingers tangling into his hair. Both of you tangled between each other as his legs settle next to and between yours.

Once both of you are breathless, he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” He mumbles, laughing gently against you.

“I think I have some idea,” You respond, gripping his shoulders once again to pull him back into you.

———

It’s much later than normal the next morning when you eventually wake up. You and Conrad had split off into your separate rooms just as the fire was dying out and, with the sun blaring through the windows now, it just felt like it hadn’t happened. Like last night was a dream.

“Hey! You’re finally awake!” Belly announces as she walks back into the bedroom, “What happened to you last night?”

“Oh, um,” You lean up onto your elbows, “You know what I’m like, I hate storms.”

She nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, “We were thinking of what to do today.”

“Yeah? What’s the plan?” You drag a hand through your hair, feeling the flashbacks of Conrad’s fingers tangled amongst the strands.

“I don’t know yet, maybe we could go out tonight? There’s a party I think, one of Jere’s friends,” Belly suggests, picking Junior Mint up from the floor and setting him back onto the bed.

You feel your heart drop. The realisation seemingly hitting you like a ton of bricks. This was awful. What had you done?

It would break her heart if she knew what had happened last night.

But, god, you wanted to see Conrad again.

She disappears again to let you somewhat wake up fully and you push yourself enough out of the bed that your legs dangle over the side, dragging your hair away from your face and rubbing your hands over your eyes.

You don’t hear anyone coming into the room until he’s already dropping down onto the mattress behind you. The weight shifts and an all too familiar figure sits behind you, leaning forward to press a kiss to the exposed slither of skin on your shoulders.

“Good morning,” Conrad mumbles softly, his voice thick with sleep like your own.

You let yourself lean into his touch for a moment, every sensation from the night before seemingly reignited. It was real. He leans forward and perches his chin on your shoulder, tilting his head to look at you from the awkward angle.

“You know when we said last night that we’d be careful this isn’t what I meant,” You point out as he turns to kiss your neck, “This definitely isn’t careful.”

Conrad pulls back and you turn around on the bed so that you’re facing him, he reaches up a hand to brush the hair away from your face, “We’ll be careful. If that’s what it takes, we’ll do it.”

“I just…” You shake your head, “I can’t hurt Belly like that, not like this.”

Conrad nods and reaches a hand down to squeeze yours, “You won’t, I promise.”

You smile, taking a deep breath.

“But,” Conrad stands up, still holding your hand like he can’t bring himself to lose contact yet, “I would like to at least see you today. So if you could figure out a way for me to get you alone, that would be great.”

“God, you’re so needy Fisher.”

He rolls his eyes at you and disappears back out of the room, leaving you with a smile on your lips that it was impossible to get rid of.

———

Later that day, you’re outside with Belly, Jere and Steven by the pool, deciding on your plans for the evening.

“I’m just saying we should go, if it’s shit we can leave,” Jeremiah shrugs, “But like everyone’s going to be there.”

“Looking for someone to hook up with Jere?” Steven raises his eyebrows, splashing him with water from the pool.

Jeremiah scoffs, “Obviously not,” His eyes glance over to you, a small smile on his lips, “I just think it could be fun.”

“Alright but if we’re going we need drinks,” You point out, the idea crossing your mind as soon as you say the words, “I can go to the store.”

“There’s no way you’re getting anything,” Belly laughs, “You don’t have a fake.”

“No, but they know me less than they know you guys - so I’ll be more likely to get away with it, no?” You mention, pushing yourself up to stand, “Need anything else if I’m going?”

They all look at you slightly suspiciously but you ignore it, hurrying inside.

“Hey! I was just looking for yo-“ Conrad starts, just stepping down from the stairs as you rush through the house.

“Come on Fisher!” You grin, grabbing his hand on your way past, “We’re going out.”

He laughs breathlessly to catch up with you, following close behind as you grab your keys and run with him to your car.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” He raises his brows, pausing at the passenger side of the car.

You smile, “Didn’t you say you wanted to see me today?”

Conrad grins, “I won’t ask any more questions.”

Both of you pile into the car and you drive off, feeling like a new level of weightlessness when it was just the two of you together. You feel his eyes on you as you drive, like he’s infatuated by every part of you, and when you look back to him he doesn’t look away - the smile on his face only brightening at the connection. Part of you still couldn’t believe it.

You drive the two of you through the country lanes, through the rolling hills until you reach any level of seclusion, pulling up on a bank just over by the beach, overlooking an area that seemed completely untouched.

“Have you brought me here to kill me?” He looks at you slightly dumbfounded, “Should I be worried?”

“Well, there’s nobody here, I figured it was perfect,” You shrug, reaching into the back of your car to grab a couple of blankets.

“It is,” Conrad says, following your moves as you both get out of the car and walk down the short bank towards the sand.

The clearing of the beach is completely empty, and you stretch one of the blankets down onto the white sand, dropping down onto the soft surface and tossing the other blanket to your side. Conrad stands above you, his head blocking the sun as he grins down at you, his hair falling around his forehead.

“Hi,” You squint up at him, reaching out your arms until you can pull him into you.

He falls down beside you, leaning up onto his elbow.

“I still can’t believe this,” You comment, reaching up a hand to brush through the locks of hair around his eyes.

“Can’t believe what?”

“This. Us.” You say, feeling your stomach flip at the words, “I never thought it would happen.”

He frowns a little when you speak, “Why did you think that?”

You take a deep breath, “I’ve always been Bells’ friend, I thought that’s all you saw me as. God, they’re probably wondering where we are an-“

He leans down and silences your worries with a soft kiss, his lips lingering over yours without any pressure.

“They’re not thinking about us,” He assures you, “I’m thinking about us.”

You feel the smile tugging at your lips and he captures it into another kiss, as if sealing it between you.

You grip at his t-shirt and the back of his neck, pulling him into you as he shifts so that he’s over the top of your frame, deepening his connection against you. You’re breathless against his lips, desperate for more of him. His hand moves down to your waist, slipping below the hem of your top to hold your skin. You hiss at the contact, the cold touch of his fingertips.

He pulls back and smiles at you, glancing back around at the empty scene around you, “You know, there’s nobody around.”

You grin, looking to the side and pulling over the other blanket, shaking it out. He grabs it from you and stretches it over his back, burying both of you under your own seclusion.

His hands and lips find you again, his hips increasing their friction against you. And, in those moments, you’re sure that you two are the only two people in the world. Nobody else.

———

You get back a couple of hours later, carrying in a brown paper bag of liquor as Conrad walks behind you with two crates of beer.

“Listen I’m just saying that-“

You stop in your tracks as the door closes behind you and Jeremiah is stood in the hallway by the front door, at the base of the stairs.

“Where did you guys go?” He asks, glancing between the two of you.

“To the store,” Conrad says, nodding down to the items in your arms, “Getting the goods for you kids tonight.”

Jeremiah nods, “I could’ve gone with you (Y/n), if you needed help.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Con was just in the house when I came through so I asked if he wanted to come.”

Conrad smiles down at his feet and you fight the urge to nudge him in his side.

“Here, let me take that,” Jeremiah offers, taking the bag from your arms.

You thank him and he walks into the kitchen, Conrad following behind him, wiggling his brows at you before he disappears. You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile he always seemed to evoke.

“Hey!” Belly comes jogging down the stairs, “I thought I heard you, did you get everything at the store?”

“Yeah, yeah, got everything,” You nod, “Conrad got beer, and we got a bottle of tequila and vodka.”

“That’s where he was,” Belly returns, “I wasn’t sure where he’d disappeared to.”

You drag a hand through your hair, “Yeah sorry it was just a last minute thing, I figured I could do with the extra hands.”

She agrees, “I don’t think he’ll come tonight, he’s been distant recently.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m sure we can convince him,” You glance over to where him and Jere are stood in the kitchen and he laughs at something his brother has said, his eyes creasing as he does so.

You’re sure this is the brightest he’s seemed in a long time and you feel your heart swell a little at the sight.

And then Belly moves beside you and you’re flicked back to reality momentarily, a reality where your stomach sank at the thought of lying to your best friend.

———

All of you arrive at the party an hour after it had started, having made your way through at least half of the drinks you’d brought with you. You were wearing a pink floral fitted mini skirt and a white corset top that hugged your figure. You’d felt Conrad’s eyes on you almost as soon as you’d come downstairs.

The boys follow behind you as you all disperse amongst the party, you holding onto Belly’s hand as the two of you make your way to the kitchen.

“I’m already a bit buzzed,” Belly says into your ear, wearing a romper that she’d stolen from you, “I don’t think I should drink any more.”

You smile at her, “Here,” You pour lemonade into a red solo cup and push it into her hand, “They don’t need to know.”

You take your own bottle of beer and crack it open, holding your thumb over the top as you move back through the mass of bodies in search for the three boys’ heads that would pop up over the crowd.

“Wait,” Belly stops you, grabbing your arm, “I need to ask you something.”

You frown at her, shifting to face her against the moving bodies around you, “What is it?”

She leans in closer to you as she speaks, “I think I’m going to tell Conrad how I feel.”

You feel your heart drop, a lump forming in your throat.

“I just… I’ve been waiting for too long. And if I don’t say it now I never will,” She explains, “I can’t do that any more.”

You still can’t find the words, certain that you’ll stop breathing if the lump in your throat gets any larger. Your hands start to feel a little numb and you grip tighter onto the neck of the beer bottle to feel like you could be grounded at least a little.

“I have to say something,” She persists, “And hopefully he’ll tell me he feels the same way.”

Without realising, you stumble a little in the crowd and she reaches out to catch you.

“Are you okay?” Your best friend frowns at you.

“I just- I need some air,” You return, trying to force your words to be loud enough over the pounding music.

You push your way through the remaining people until you get to enough of a clearing, where you can get outside into the garden. Instantly, it’s like you’re gasping for a breath it was impossible to find.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Belly asks you, holding your arm as if holding you up.

“Um,” You drag a hand through your curled hair and look back at her, “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I just felt a bit dizzy in there.”

“God you terrified me,” She half-laughs, “Come on, the boys are over there.”

Belly guides you over to the beer pong table set up at one side of the terrace in the garden, Steven and Jeremiah are stood on one side and Conrad on the other.

“Hey! Bells, (Y/n)!” Jeremiah waves, “Come join us, we’re just starting.”

“Okay but I’m not drinking,” Belly grimaces at the sight of the half-filled cups.

“You can join our team then, (Y/n) can go with Conrad,” Steven shrugs, “Let’s go rookies.”

You walk over to Conrad’s side of the table and watch his eyes drag up and down the sight of your body, cocking your brow at him when his eyes finally meet yours. He blushes, fighting back a smile.

Jeremiah throws the first ball and it bounces from one of your cups, Conrad catching it as he throws it back, sinking it into one of the cups at the edge of their triangle.

“Nice shot,” You comment quietly, sipping from the beer in your hand.

He reaches an arm around your shoulders and takes the bottle from your hand, bringing it to his own lips to take a sip.

“Come on, drink up,” Steven breaks the moment, gesturing towards the ball now landed in one of the cups on your side.

You roll your eyes and pick up the cup, tipping back the drink and grimacing at the overwhelming taste.

“Alright, my turn,” You say, picking up the ball and lining up to throw it towards them.

Conrad’s hand falls to the small of your back, the bare skin between your top and skirt. You glance back with slightly widened eyes but quickly try to ignore it. He was buzzed, that’s what it was. All of his inhibitions were lowered, and his widened pupils couldn’t help but focus on you. You throw the ball from your hand and it bounces to land in their front cup. In one movement, you shift to stand directly in front of Conrad, trying your best to shield his desperation for you. The other three seem too distracted anyway, bickering over which one of them has to drink as Conrad holds your waist, pulling you back against him.

“Con,” You say under your breath, tightening your grip on the edge of the table, “Not here.”

He listens almost instantly, his hands loosening on you as he steps to the side, eyes not leaving you.

“We’ll leave early,” You mention quietly and he smirks, pursing his lips together.

“Come on losers, one of you has got to drink,” Conrad encourages, clasping his hands together, a new lease of life seemingly coursing through him.

You go about the rest of the game and you and Conrad both grimace through another two cups each before you eventually win the game, pushing your remaining cups to the other side for the rest to drink.

“Alright, I need to find the bathroom,” You mention, checking your reflection in the black mirror of your phone screen, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You squeeze Conrad’s forearm before stepping past him to walk towards the house, trailing through the bodies and eventually making your way upstairs to the nearest available bathroom, shooting him a text of ‘second door on the left’.

You sit yourself on the closed lid of the toilet until, only a minute later, there’s a tap at the door. Without so much as a second thought, you stand up and unlock the door quickly, grinning at the sight of Conrad on the other side. He glances once over his shoulder to check for any prying eyes in the empty corridor before stepping in, hands gripping your waist instantly and turning you around, pressing you against the door as it closes behind you. You gasp at the contact and your mouth falls open, Conrad dipping his head to kiss at your neck.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you in this,” He grumbles, pressing against you, “You’re killing me (Y/l/n).”

“Yeah? I couldn’t tell,” You smirk, your hands moving down to unbutton his trousers, pushing him back until his back hits the opposite wall.

———

You adjust your skirt once, twice more, before stepping outside, running a hand through your hair once again, dragging a finger under either of your eyes. Conrad had left a couple of minutes ago so it was likely safe for you to do so too.

“There you are!” Belly exclaims, hurrying over to you as soon as you step onto the staircase, “Conrad said you were being sick.”

“Um,” You swallow to compose yourself, “Yeah, yeah, just too much beer I think.”

“Okay, yeah, Steven’s been sick in the garden too, I think we’re going to head home,” She nods, “Are you okay? Do you need some water or something?”

There’s that feeling again, the sinking in your chest. The sick in your stomach, not the kind of sick from Conrad’s lie. This was real. It was real because your best friend was stood in front of you and she cared about you, so openly and blatantly she cared about you, and you were lying to her. Over something that would break her heart. You were lying to her.

“Come on, let’s go,” She puts an arm out for you to take her hand and leads you down the staircase to where the three boys are waiting at the bottom.

Conrad looks up at you as you come down, a smile on his lips before he looks back down at his feet. His hair was messier than normal and you wondered whether anyone had questioned it.

“You feeling okay (Y/n)?” Jeremiah frowns, “Here, take this.”

He tugs the flannel from around his shoulders and hands it to you, waiting for your arms to slip into the sleeves.

“Oh, yeah, thanks Jere,” You nod, adjusting the material around you.

Conrad clenches his jaw, opening the door and stepping out without another word. You all follow behind, taking the shortcut that lead you back towards Susannah’s house, eventually reaching the familiar setting. Steven stumbles and clings onto Jeremiah, telling him that they should carry on drinking, and Belly looks at you every two seconds as if you’re about to break beside her, Conrad doesn’t look back at you.

Everything just feels… off. Jeremiah’s shirt seemed to itch around your arms and it didn’t sit right around your shoulders, and Belly’s arm was linked in yours but it just didn’t seem to rest there properly and it made your arm ache when you focused on it for too long, and why wouldn’t Conrad look at you?!

You eventually get back into the house and Jeremiah carries Steven’s weight through the corridor as quietly as he can, making sure he takes one stumbling step at a time. Belly tells you she’s going to get in the bathroom before anyone else does and you and Conrad are left stood in the doorway.

He glances back at you.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” You offer, pulling Jeremiah’s shirt from around you.

“You could’ve used mine,” He mumbles softly.

“Your what?” You frown, blinking at him in the low light.

“My jacket, you could’ve borrowed it,” He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Conrad Fisher are you jealous?” You scoff, and for a moment in your laughter you forget about everything that had been worrying you on the way home. It’s just you and him again.

He rolls his eyes, “No, I just mean-“

You step forward until you’re directly below him, waiting until his eyes will meet yours.

“Admit it,” You state simply, “Admit you were jealous.”

“Im not jealous it’s just-“ He stops, “I don’t- I didn’t-“

You raise your brows, fighting to stop yourself from laughing at him.

“Good night,” He grumbles turning away from you.

You grab his hand and stop him, turning him around so that you can press the quickest peck to his lips. Conrad looks at you with a smile on his lips, drawing you back in to kiss him again, a second longer.

It’s only when you pull away that you both think to glance to the top of the stairs - to the figure stood at the top of them.

“What the fuck?” Steven mumbles, stumbling a little and catching himself on the wall.

Conrad looks at you almost instantly and you watch the worry cast over his face, him watching the exact same expression pass over yours.

“Come on, man, let’s get you to bed,” Jeremiah encourages, hurrying back over to Steven and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

He pauses when he sees the two of you at the bottom of the stairs, both looking up like you’ve seen a ghost.

“Good night guys,” He frowns, hooking his arm below Steven’s armpits and dragging him towards his bedroom.

Conrad looks at you again and his mouth opens as if to say something, stopping before he speaks, closing his mouth again, waiting, and then saying, “I’m so sorry (Y/n).”

You look at him and frown, hearing the way the words catch in his throat as if assuring you they’re honest. You can practically feel the way his chest would have been tightening against the words, the way he’d struggle against them.

“Hey,” You reach out a hand and take his, squeezing it, “Not your fault.”

He looks down at you and swallows the lump in his throat.

“Come on, not here,” You encourage, pulling his hand with you as the two of you walk through the empty bottom floor.

You lead him into the lounge where the two of you sit down in front of the fireplace. You cross your legs and face him and he stretches his out towards the fireplace, leaning back against the couch behind you.

“Okay, chances are Steven’s not going to keep his mouth shut,” You begin, “Even drunk, he’ll probably remember what he saw.”

Conrad just nods.

“Look, I get it. It’s only been a couple of days, and this ruins things and I totally understand if you don’t want this to carry-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” Conrad bolts upright, “What gave you that impression?”

“Well,” You look down at your hands in your lap, “I know we’ve been hooking up but everyone knowing is going to make this into something and I don’t know if you’re ready for that or if you want that or… I don’t know.”

“(Y/n),” He takes one of your hands and interlocks his fingers with yours, his large grip folding over your knuckles, “I want this. Not just sneaking off and hooking up, I want this. I want you.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, your whole body feeling like it could ignite under his touch.

“If they find out now, then we deal with it, okay?” He waits until your eyes find his, “We’re in this for the long haul, right?”

You nod and watch the corners of his lips curl up into a smile. You turn so that your back is against the couch beside him and he wraps an arm around your back, your head resting on his shoulder and his resting atop yours. You’re sure you could stay like that forever. And, somewhere along the line, both of you drift off to sleep.

———

When you blink your eyes open, for a second you hope you’re dreaming… or perhaps this is more like being in a nightmare. Stood directly in front of the pair of you, are the looming figures of Jeremiah, Steven and… Belly. You nudge Conrad and he blinks awake too, groaning at the stiff pain in his neck.

“God I thought I was dreaming last night but I wasn’t, was I?” Steven gestures between the two of you, “I mean, you guys are…”

You glance at Conrad and back to the others, scrambling to your feet, “I can explain-“

You reach out for Belly but she pulls away, storming out of the room as quickly as she can. You feel the tears bubble in your eyes, the lump in your throat.

“I mean, seriously (Y/n)?” Steven scoffs, “You knew how she felt about him. She’s meant to be your best friend.”

“I didn’t mean for-“

“Conrad?!” Jeremiah exclaims, “Seriously, of all the people you could’ve been with you went for Conrad? The one person you knew would break Belly’s heart.”

“It wasn’t like that,” You shake your head quickly, “It just happened and-“

“Well maybe if you weren’t so busy thinking about fucking-“

“Hey!” Conrad stands up beside you, stepping ahead so that he shields you from them, directing his anger onto his brother, “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable, do you know that?” Jeremiah laughs, “I tell you I like a girl and you take that as a sign to get her for yourself?”

“Jere, stop,” Conrad warns, “You’re going to say something you regret.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Jeremiah raises his voice, “You knew that I liked her, you knew I fucking liked her and you just cared about yourself.”

“It wasn’t like that, (Y/n) decided who she wanted to be with, I did too. It’s not always about you Jere,” Conrad shakes his head, “When are you going to grow up and realise that?”

“When am I going to grow up? How about you growing up and realising you’re going to break her fucking heart?” Jere shrugs, “I mean, seriously, emotionally unavailable Conrad? In a relationship that’ll last? You’ll break her heart and she’ll come crying to-“

“Stop!” You raise your voice, pushing to step aside from behind Conrad, “Both of you stop fucking talking about me like I’m not even here. I can’t deal with this right now, I need to find Belly.”

“(Y/n)…”

You hear the faint tone of Conrad’s voice behind you but it’s overshadowed by the blood pounding in your ears as you hurry through the house to find her, catching sight of her just by the pool.

“Belly!” You call, pushing open the door, “Belly please just talk to me!”

“You knew, (Y/n),” She spins on her heel to face you, her eyes puffy with tears, “You knew I liked him. From the minute we were in middle school I told you I liked him. I told you every summer since, and you listened to me every single fucking time. And then, what? You just wanted him for yourself this whole time.”

“It wasn’t like that…” You shake your head, “I never meant for it to happen, especially not like this.”

“Then what was it like, (Y/n)?”

You pause, seemingly incapable of finding any words in the moment, “I- I just…”

She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at you as if you’re a person she doesn’t recognise.

“It was a couple of summers ago, I don’t know what changed. He just seemed… different. And then I noticed it more last summer, just the little things in how he was acting with me, I couldn’t explain it. I never told you because I knew how much it would hurt you to think that I liked him too. But the other night things just happened and he told me how he felt about me and… I never meant for you to find out like this, and I never meant to lie to you.”

“Well, which one is it? Did you not want me to find out or did you not want to lie to me? You can’t have both.”

“I-“ You fight back the tears stinging at your eyes, “I didn’t want to break your heart, Bells. But I could feel myself falling in love with him and him falling in love wi-“

“In love?” She steps forward, eyebrows raised against the redness of her cheeks, “It’s not love, (Y/n). Conrad doesn’t love you. You’re just there and he knows he can have you. You’ll realise that eventually.”

Her words are void of any emotion other than hatred, spitting from her mouth like she’s desperate for them to escape her. She storms past you and down the side of the house, each one of her steps carrying more anger than the last.

You feel your chest tighten, the way it seems to contort and twist when you’re on the verge of tears.

The garden door opens again and it’s Conrad this time. At the second your eyes meet his, you release every emotion in side of you, letting out a sob. He reacts almost instantly, hurrying down to scoop you into his arms, letting you bury your head on his chest, soaking through his t-shirt. One of his hands grips around your back and the other holds your head against him, running through your hair.

“It’s okay, (Y/n),” His voice is soft, like he is terrified of breaking you further.

You pull away from him and look up to his face, shaking your head through the tears still spilling from your eyes, “How is it going to be okay, Con? They hate us. All of them hate us.”

“Hey,” His hands move up to either of your cheeks, thumbs brushing under your eyes to swipe away the tears before they can even fall, “It’s you and me, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

You let yourself sink into the feeling of his arms around you, his heartbeat sounding less certain than his words did.

“You’ve got me.”

And in that moment, you know it’s true.

#tsitp #tsitp conrad #conrad x reader #conrad x you #conrad x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #tsitp one shot #tsitp drabble #tsitp blurb #tsitp imagine #tsitp request #the summer i turned pretty

[shinyspooks]

literally and non-literally

so. i'm literally obsessed with @zillychu 's fire core au. so i HAD to write this.

note: i imagine this happens sometime between danny actually starting to talk to them and them finding out about the halfa thing- so like, really early bonding/flirting stage?? you'll get what i mean

Warnings: blood mention, Danny kills a ghost off screen. + said ghost's arm gets torn off. this fic is comedy though i promise

Word Count: 1k

Read on AO3

This had been a bad idea.

That was all that Tucker could think, as he and Sam stood under the cover of a nearby half-destroyed building, watching as Phantom beat another ghost to a pulp.

Neither of them had seen the other ghost before, and it seemed that they likely never would again, if the way Phantom was tearing into them was any indication.

Literally, tearing into them, it seemed, as Phantom fiercly bit down on the other’s arm and ripped it clean off, blood splattering down to the pavement, followed by the ghost’s body, slamming down with such force that it made the ground tremble. When the dust settled, the ectoplasmic body didn’t so much as twitch.

“Wow.” Sam said, interrupting the unsettling silence, “That was kinda hot.”

Phantom, arm still in his mouth, turned around with a look filled with so much abject horror that if this was any other situation Tucker would’ve laughed.

Letting the arm drop from his mouth to fall to rest on top of it’s original body, Phantom joined Sam and Tucker on the ground. Well. Sorta on the ground. He got closer to the ground. But he remained floating, as usual.

“Ah-” Sam interrupted him before he could speak, “You’ve got a little-”

She reached forwards, towards Phantom’s face, and he instantly floated several feet back, letting out a hiss. Sam froze, before letting her arm drop to her side.

“Right, no touching.” She said, “But, uh, you’ve got some blood- or, ecto, on your face.”

Phantom almost seemed to hesitate for a second, before using his fist to try and wipe the ecto-blood off his cheek. He didn’t do much other than smear it a little, but both Sam and Tucker decided to not mention it. Phantom floated a bit closer again with a small sigh.

“I hope,” He started, “That when you said hot, before, thatit’s in reference to the literal heat, cause otherwise…”

“Otherwise…?” Sam tilted her head to the side with a smirk. Tucker silently shook his head at her, but she ignored him.

“Because otherwise, you’re a lot crazier than I thought.” Phantom said, crossing his arms with a huff. If anything, Sam’s smirk grew wider at that.

“Hi, I’m Sam, and I’m a lot crazier than you thought I was.” She said, linking her arm around Tucker’s and dragging him in closer to her. “This is Tucker, he’s also a lot crazier than you thought he was. May I know your name?”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Tucker muttered, and Sam lightly kicked his shin, making him sharply inhale. Phantom slow-blinked at them both. Truthfully, they didn’t really need him to tell them his name, they both had a pretty solid guess that he was, maybe, perhaps, the Phantom, but he didn’t need to know that. Besides, when it came to somewhat eldritch or fae-like beings, there were whole things around names, so it was best to give the matter some form of caution.

(And even if it wasn’t a fae-name kind of situation, the fact Phantom had not willingly gave them a name to call him by at this point did imply that they should treat the matter with some delicacy).

“…Nice try.” He said, “It’s not something you need to know, though.”

“Hm, maybe we should try giving you a name then…” Sam trailed off, thinking. Tucker let out a defeated sigh, immediately realizing that she was about to throw their previous caution and delicacy around Phantom’s name away entirely. Phantom looked almost confused, and slightly angry, like she hadn’t gotten his point, but couldn’t even say a word before she was speaking again. “Ah, I know. We’ll call you Casper.”

Phantom slow-blinked again, now very obviously confused.

“You’re choosing, of all things, to name me after the old high-school?” He asked. Now it was Sam and Tucker’s turn to look at him in confusion.

“No?? I- Oh, wait.” The realization seemed to hit them both at once. “You wouldn’t have seen that movie, would you?”

“Movie?”

“Casper, the Friendly Ghost.” Tucker elaborated. Phantom seemed to bristle.

“Ghosts are not friendly.” He said. Sam and Tucker both shared a look that made him glower at the both of them. “Seriously. Ghost’s aren’t friendl- wait, hold on. If you’re naming me- you think I’m friendly?!”

The silence that followed seemed to be response enough for him.

“I’m not friendly. I- you both aren’t just crazy. You’re insane.” Phantom said. Sam seemed to consider something for a moment.

“Hmm… You know, you’re pretty cute too, Casper.” She said, and Phantom sputtered, suddenly dropping to stand on the ground.

“Cute?!”

“Ah-” Tucker suddenly felt the need to maybe do some damage control. Phantom was already a threat enough without a damaged pride. “Of course, you’re very, uh, scary and powerful-”

“In a hot way though.” Sam interjected, “In a non-literal hot way.”

“Sam!” Tucker had to admit that she was objectively correct, but- “You can’t just say things like that-”

“You know I’m right. He’s hot. Both literally and non-literally.” As she said so, she gestured at Phantom, who had taken to staring very pointedly at the ground. Was it just Tucker’s imagination, or was his face turning a little green-

Phantom’s fists suddenly clenched, and when he looked up at them again, it was with a glare in his eyes, the edges of his hair slowly growing more smokey than its usual state.

“Get out of my town.” He hissed, eyes flashing a brighter shade of green. Ah. It seemed they had reached Phantom’s idiocy limit for the day.

Not wasting any time, Tucker flipped Sam’s grip on his arm so that he was the one holding on to her, turned, and started to drag her away at a rather speedy pace.

“Aw c’mon, I was only messing around!!” Sam complained, but still allowed herself to be dragged. From some distance behind them, Phantom tsked.

“Keep playing around like that and you’ll get burned.” He muttered, quietly, but not quietly enough for them to not overhear.

“Was that a pun? Wait- Tucker, the ghost knows puns-” Sam said, planting her feet into the ground. It was enough to give Tucker pause as well, turning around-

Phantom had already vanished.

“He knows puns, Tucker.” Sam continued, “Tucker. We’ve got to bring the joke book next time.”

#Danny Phantom #Fire Core AU #my writing #zillychu if you see this i need you to know i havent written in like 5 months #and this is the fic that finally got me writing again #so thank you for this incredible au #Everlasting Trio

[bitchlessdino]

okok i'm here for a request

wonwoo as your coworker who you've been having an office romance with - which you have been taking as a joke. everyone thinks you'll get together, and you play along with that. but wonwoo is very serious.

so late night booty call from coworker!wonwoo? or maybe drunk dial to wonwoo and the aftermath the next day (fucking in the office)

Pairing: wonwoo x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.9k

tags: office au, feturin bartender!chan and coworker!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet name

author note: hi bee ily bee, you're messed up for this bee. but im worse for producing it gdjgwkjg. anyways enjoy wonu rot

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro

Wonwoo is a handsome guy and it was clear as day to everyone in the office. You like having a bit of his attention. He’s funny and quite friendly with you, but that is perhaps because the first time you met you had the courage to fight with him over the last jam-filled donut in the break room. Since then, there’s never not been a reason to talk as if you’ve known each other forever.

You admit some of the socializing you’ve been having with Wonwoo is more than what you do with any other coworker, let alone friend, but you were just playing along and it was too late to go back. Besides, both of you know what this is. All this talk was simply harmless flirting, playful jokes, and lively banter. You make it clear at the end of it all that there is nothing between you and Wonwoo, that things are as platonic as two subordinates can get.

You can’t say the rest of the office believes that though, seeing as so many of them with jealous glares in your direction or the nudges from the suspecting coworkers that ‘lowkey ship’ you two together as if you were some characters in television. 

“Ugh, you two make me sick. Just get together and have beautiful children already.”

You and Wonwoo shared a harmonious chuckle together, one louder in humor and it wasn’t the man dashing in a silk silver necktie.

“I wish I could, but they like to sleep on the left side even though I also sleep on the left side and I don't know how that would work,” Wonwoo knocks against your shoulder

“Not to mention he likes cats way more than dogs and the fact that we could never really be together because we’re just good coworkers.”

“Right,” he lightly punches, indicating agreement. “It’d be a really bad idea if we were actually together.”

You raise your brows, almost offended. “Woah, woah. I never said it was really bad.”

“But you were thinking about it.”

“Lover quarrel I hear?” Mingyu butts in after getting his morning joe. “They’re always at it at this time of day.”

You roll your eyes at the giant. “All I’m saying is. I and Wonwoo are good together at work. Just work. Dare I say he’s a good work husband, even if he steals the last of the pastries—“

“Will you ever let that go—“

“No—and that’s all there is everyone. Sorry to disappoint.”

The crowd gives their share of snide smirks before dispersing. Mingyu is the last to stay behind, a Cheshire smile on his face. “Sure, you two. Just keep your hands to yourself around here…if you can help it.”

You were about to throw a light kick at the man before he started scurrying off, leaving you and Wonwoo in your lonesome as always. 

“They mean no harm by the way,” Wonwoo points out, “but if it bothers you that much, I can tell them to lay off.”

“Nu-uh,” you reply, shaking your head, “and make me look like a buzzkill? I don’t mind the back and forth. Just don’t anyone get the wrong idea that our jokes are actually serious?”

“Yeah, because it’d be just awful to be caught dating someone like me.”

You groan at his choice of words. “That is not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. This is why we wouldn’t work together.”

Wonwoo shrugs, a smile on his face that truly does brighten up a whole room. God, no wonder people think you’re dating him. What single man smiles like that? “Alright, sweet face. Fine. Who cares what they think? We know left from right, okay?” There’s a hint in his tone that says otherwise but you decide to ignore it.

“Okay, good. Anyways, what are your plans tonight? Up for another night of Valo queue?”

“I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh?” You say wiggling your eyebrows. “Hot date?”

“Maybe? Haven’t met them yet.”

You’re playful expression fades. “Oh, actually? Wow. You must be…excited.”

He shrugs, freshening up his mug. “It’s nice to have plans outside of binge-watching TV at home, so a little bit.”

Your smile can’t seem to reach your ears until you’ve found a way to find the humor out of it. “That sounds nice. I wanna be set up—Wonwoo don’t you have any hot friends?”

Wonwoo feigns thought, clicking his tongue, now noticing the watch on his wrist. “Well, would you look at the time? Back to work.”

You sneer at him leaving you unanswered, following after him to continue the rest of your day. This is how most days went. Outside of work, you shared your personal interests with him, such as video games—perhaps adding to the assumption that you both seem very couple forward—but otherwise, that was all. There was nothing else that made you more than people who work in close proximity together, and not by your own fault either.

Despite this dynamic, Wonwoo is a private person and you only know what he lets you know. Perhaps, that’s why you are so dead set on keeping the formality the way it is. Who knows the type of person he is behind doors?

You try not to be curious about him for the sake of your circumstance, but the thought of Wonwoo and his date stays in the back of your mind, pestering you like an insect well into the afternoon until after work. That’s when you decide to hit up the local bar, grab a drink—or 5–and catch up with your favorite bartender, Chan, to see what he’s up to. He’s normally a good distraction, seeing as he can talk circles around any subject while jumping from one to the other, and you think it starts to make you forget why ever you came in the first place.

However, ‘drunk you’ does whatever the fuck they want, even if ‘sober you’ says otherwise. You seem to forget that every time you go out, perhaps because you think you’ve overcome that part of you after a while of not drinking. Truth was you haven’t.

“Hellooo…”

The dial tone plays on the other end and you continue your incessant greeting until you’re met with a familiar and confused sound. You automatically grin, clutching the device close to your ear in hopes of hearing his voice again.

“Wonwoo…are you and you having fun…”

You hear shuffling in the background, unaware it was Wonwoo checking caller ID to make sure it was you. “Are you doing okay?”

“Me? I’m great…how are you bud? Buddy? Companion? Bestie?”

“Okay. Where are you right now?”

You chortle, glancing back at Chan who is preoccupied with other customers but watching you from the corner of his eye concerned. “Hehe, I’m with a friend. A very handsome friend…”

Chan lets out a light chuckle before finishing up the drink and handing it to the person waiting. He strolls out to you, listening in on the rest of your call as he pretends to clean up glasses.

“Handsome friend?” Wonwoo repeats.

“Very handsome.”

You aren’t sure what’s going on with you, but you feel the urge to simply narrate everything around you, making sure the man on the other line hears every word. 

“Is there a reason you’re calling me, Y/n?”

You hum against the phone in pondering. “Just…because. It’s you.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Chan lightly scoffs at the scene, almost seeing the pink in your eyes as you speak to whoever is on the other end and politely asks for your phone. You pout at him, denying him the device, but with a stern look, you melt into mush and soon obliged.

“Hi, you must be Y/n’s friend right? They’re at the Carat Club right now and it looks like they’ve had enough to drink.”

Wonwoo hums into the phone before responding back cautiously. “Are you the handsome friend?”

Chan grins hearing the hint of jealousy. “Why yes, I am.”

“You don’t sound that handsome.”

“Well, you can judge for yourself because I’m also the bartender here. If you aren’t too busy, I’d really appreciate you getting them home. I’ll keep an eye on them but I can only do that for so long with the rush we’re having.”

There’s a moment of silence on the phone that makes the young bartender think the calls have dropped until the gravelly voice on the other end begrudgingly agrees, quickly hanging up right after. 

Chan sets the phone back to your side, doing what he’s promised to do. After some time, he recognizes Wonwoo right away by his frantic arrival and the bartender waves him over. Wonwoo scans your current state with a frown creasing his eyes. He tries shaking your sides, and see how little effect it makes.

“How much have they had to drink?”

“A couple of cocktails but by how early they’ve gotten here I assume they haven’t eaten. Best to take them home before it goes right through them.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo, picks you up by your limp arms and supports your side in the direction of the door. When he’s out of sight, he quietly curses to himself about the accuracy of the bartender’s appearance before settling you in his passenger seat.

His goal is to get you rested and safe. Seeing as your driver's license is doctored from the city several hours from where they are, he assumes it is in need of an update, and tries to pry your address out of you. To no avail, nothing useful comes out from your drunk slurred lips and he ends up taking you to his home, dumping you on his bed, and tucking you in. 

You don’t remember anything after the third drink: making that call to Wonwoo, or the debacle of trying to get you home, or his persistence in climbing up the flight of stairs in his own home with the extra body weight. You can only assume the worst when you wake up the following day in a foreign bedroom; your internal alarm was clock accurate as always. You jump from the sheets in pure fear, scanning your surroundings for an owner, when you realize you still have the clothes you wore to work the day before.

Promptly, Wonwoo walks towards the bedroom you occupy from the wide open door and greet you, a smile on his face. “Good, you’re up. Work is in an hour, I’ll get you there.” “Wonwoo, where am I?”

“My place. I would’ve taken you home if you had been more cooperative.”

It takes your eyes some adjusting but you soon realize the lack of clothing on his body, warranting the smooth, broad, and muscular appearance of a Jeon Wonwoo you wouldn’t dare dream of. You gulp at the sight taking it in before hearing him chuckle as he crosses his arms to obscure the view, forcing your eyes on his face that was bare of the thick pair of metal frames you are used to. Instead, you see his eyes, overflowing with warmth you worry you’d stumble upon seeing them. “Extra bathroom at the other end of the hall. I can lend you a shirt.”

“T-thanks.” You say before he disappears in order to get ready for another day.

You quickly finish what needed to be done, taking advantage of the oversized shirt Wonwoo left you behind and somehow making it work. Soon enough you’re off to the office, in his passenger, only time sober and a lot more self-conscious.

“Did I do or say anything weird?”

He lets out a deep, familiar chuckle. “Depends. What’s your definition of weird?”

You try thinking of an answer but none would come up, having you change your mind about getting his prompt response.

“If it’s any consolation, you didn’t get sick like I thought you would, and you were mostly asleep.”

“That just means I was a mess,” You whine.

“Perhaps, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Wait, what about your date? Don’t tell me you—“

“She canceled and I had nothing going on. You called at a good time.”

“I called you?” You question him in bemusement.

“Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

His repeating that phrase does something the chemical in your brain, retracing the dents of his torso as if they’re right in front you, glistening against the sun rays peaking out of the windows. The smile on his face makes your heart pound a little harder than you’re used to, and now you’re noticing the veins on his hands as he grips the wheel.

You feel yourself swallow. Hand to heart, you pat down as if trying to manually regulate it, but ultimately fail as Wonwoo continues to speak. This must be the embarrassment talking.

“For a second, I thought you called me to confess your undying love for me or something.”

“What?” You ask laughing a little too hard, for once grasping the humor in the situation with difficulty. “Why would you think that?” 

“For one, you were drunk. It seemed likely.” He clears his throat, trying to focus on the road. “And maybe that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Those words settle into you like hot cement, frustratingly slow, and before you finally answer, you’re already back at work, following Wonwoo as you leave the car. When both obviously arrive together, the usual attention has multiplied by tenfold, and the treatment feels different than normal. More flustering a suffocating after the night you’ve had. Wonwoo is the only one to notice as he calmly escorts you to your cubicles, leaving the questions of your coworkers unanswered.

You aren't sure why they’re comments are getting you like this now, making you feel hot, hands clasped against your cheeks like a bashful child, but it bothers you throughout the day, forcing you to keep mostly to yourself. Its then Wonwoo, sends you a note, meeting him for lunch alone knowingly while everyone else planned a meal out. You hesitantly oblige to his request and when the time came around, it’s unexpectantly timid, awkward, and nerve-wracking. That’s not how monets with Wonwoo are supposed to go.

“You’ve been quiet.”

You bow you head. “Sorry.”

“Why are you being sorry?”

“I didn’t think I was bothering anyone.”

You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes.“Well, you were bothering me. Talk to me, joke around with me, be mean to me I don’t know. The silence is annoying me.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Apologizing again? Look at me.”

It was difficult given the predicament you’re in, but he forces you to anyways by lifting up your chin between his fingers. You watch a dark storm brew in his eyes and now you can’t bare to tear away.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

You don’t get it. For the past year, you’ve known him, there's only ever been amicable looks or gregarious smiles at a maximum, but in the deep pit of your stomach bubbles a new sensation that has finally festered enough to rise to the surface. You clench your legs in instinct, eyes fluttering back at him as you let each breath take a slow turn.

Intuitive as always, Wonwoo sees that shift in your eyes. It’s disturbing, daunting, and tempting all at once and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

With the break room wall behind you, he pushes you against it, claiming your lips and body until there is no way of escaping. His lips are soft against yours, but moves languidly and impatient, and the grip of his hands on your hips drains the energy out of your lower body. You attempt to chase his vigor, hands against your neck as you suppress your moans at how he kneads your flesh through your slacks only to press your thigh to his side.

“So I’m what’s wrong?” He asks in a low rasp against your lips.

You naturally hold him by the back of his neck, his nose nuzzling against yours. Wonwoo feels your lips part to speak, but he is in a daze by how soft they felt only seconds ago. “You are far from what’s wrong,” you finally answer.

Ridding of inhibitions and doubt, Wonwoo opens the storage closet behind you and shoves you in to lock you both inside. His hands run up your body needily, desperate to taste the skin underneath the shirt you’ve borrowed. You help him undress the same way he does to you, and your pristine pressed Van Hausens fall near your feet like rubble.

His lips then fall underneath your chin, trailing your neck, he refrains from leaving too much pressure but is almost swayed by your natural scent mixed in with his shampoo. He roughly plants you against a mostly empty shelf, the ice cold metal somehow burning your skin. He helps you tug off your slacks finding that sopping cunt that’s been dying to have him discover them since this morning.

“For me? Just for me?” He wastes no time shoving his hand down the frail fabric of your underwear and gliding his thick digits over your wet slit. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself this time.”

Your voice reveals itself, saying his name in a way you wouldn’t dare let another person hear as long as you lived. He repeats the action, watching you crumble in front of him like award-winning cinema.

“I never heard you speak like that to me. I could get used to it.” He find your ear, his cat-like smile forming before his lips closes around your skin and his whispers cause the ripples of chills down your spine. “Say my name like that again for me, darling.”

You tremble under his touch, feeling his fingers dip into your heat enticingly. “Won…wooo…”

He lets out a soft and gentle moan, and the heat of his breath fans your pebbled skin. “Such a pretty little thing. I’ve dreamt how you’d be like this for me so often.”

“You…have?”

He presses a lingering kiss on your neck. “More than I can be proud of.” He curls his digits before taking light jerks, his thumb rubbing your arousal around the circumference of your clit. He drinks in your pretty pants, teeth grazing back at your skin. “You like me touching you? Aren’t I being such a good work husband?”

Your eyes screw shit, mouth etching open to give him a well-deserved praise, “So goo—“

“Where are my keys,” a voice breaks outside the door.

Wonwoo seizes his fingers from you and clamps them over your mouth, your arousal basically coating your lips and his eyes staring back at you intently.

“Where did they go anyway?”

Wonwoo shushes you with pursed lips. “Better be quiet.” His tone is stern but his actions say otherwise as his zipper comes down in a fraction of a second. “It’s in our best interest not to get caught, right?”

His name muffles under his palm, squeezing the life out of your cheeks as he exposes the bulging cock that’s been fighting away at him since he kissed you. Your eyes dart in their direction, beading perspiration across your forehead, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as his cock draws closer to your fluttering heat.

Your eyes double their size and then shrink to half the size once he’s inside you. His raw, long heat pushes into your core inch by inch, and you feel the necessary evil to bite down his palm. If Wonwoo was bothered by it, he doesn’t show it as he claims you with deep strokes, having your hands rest against his firm pectorals in reluctant trust. His low grunts can only be heard by you and the slight fog in his glasses is apparent the closer he thrust into you, even in the dim closet lighting,

Outside these walls still is a confused Mingyu, not foreseeing the event occurring behind a door mere feet away. “Maybe, they went somewhere else for lunch.”

You audibly squeak within the tight space and Wonwoo shushes you again, knocking back into with a curt but harsh slam before forcing your walls to hold his cock inside you like a natural plug. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, darling. I’m not done with you yet.” An accumulated thrill runs through your veins at the thought of being caught, taking every thrust with pressure and liquifying at the devious smile on your rumored boyfriend’s face. 

“No they’re not here,” the intruder says to a voice unheard from their distance. “…Coming!”

His footsteps noticeably scan the perimeter once last time before they retreated further and further away.

“Finally,” Wonwoo breathes out, “now I have you all to myself.” Although he states that, he doesn’t let go of your mouth, in fact, you swear his hand is getting tighter and now his face closer, finally processing the spearmint on his breath “We should still be careful. Can you be quiet for me?”

You quietly nodded, grasping at his body desperately, gesturing for him to keep going.

He scoffs. “My darling being impatient?” He pulls out almost his entire length before shoving back into you, earning a feeble tremble. “My. Cock. Making. You. Needy. Hm?”

You nod back at him, holding back your tears, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“Eyes on me, darling. Your work husband is need of your attention while I fuck you senseless.”

Shallow breaths escape your nostrils, finally meeting his eyes, which seemed to have lost the thick barrier of his glasses somehow already set on the shelf behind him. “Would you like for me to cum in you?”

You gingerly nod.

“Will you listen to everything I say when I let go of your mouth?”

Like a glitch, you nod the same exact way.

“Such a good little darling.”

His cock fills you up as naturally as breathing does. While his lips are home against yours, tongue entangling to the point it becomes sex itself. Your hushed moans are music to his ears and bear motive as his cock plunges deeper and harder inside you. He doesn’t mind how you bit his lips, nor how your nails drag against his back, rather he revels in it, doubling over you to push his cock inside you deeper until you're unable to contain your screams and he’s forced to silence you again.

You whisper how you’re close and it’s a natural drug, encouraging him to only ram inside you and claim the sweet sound of your orgasm coating decadently around his cock. He handles it rather gentlemanly, fairly as his cock is next to ripple in climax, shooting his thick over churned honey until it fills your heat until the point of fully occupancy. His arms come around you in a firm grasp, bruising your lips until you’re imprinted with the memory of him. 

You let out light pants, awkwardly thanking his promptly done tasks before you’re whisked away again by his perfect, salvia-sheened lips. “That was very…superb.”

Strange adjective but it’s done the job, you think.

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles in a way that tells you things are far from over and you’re proven correct when he brings up your legs, thighs crushing his cheeks that splays the most impish smile. “But we still have 15 minutes of our lunch and a man’s gotta eat.”

Part of my 3K Follower StayCation!!!

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n

[ikeuverse]

SLOW DOWN — s.jaeyun

CHAPTERS: prologue | chapter one | chapter two | [...]

PAIRING: illegal!jake x fem!reader GENRES: angst, smut, fluff WC: 7.0k+

WARNINGS: physical and verbal fights, lots of swearing, blood, mention of killing.

NOTES: i intend to tell you a little about each event in each chapter to leave you with a taste of what you want more. things are coming together and, yeah, smut in the next chapter? did i hear that? i hope you like it!

TAGLIST: @yeonzzzn @alvojake @seunghancore @hoondiors @jakesbffie @cheerrxy @slutforsjy @lilyuwon @ramenoil @eneiyri @nctislifue @bluejay3m @srhnyx @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki ++ lmk if i’ve forgotten anyone or if more people want to be added

masterlist

Counting how long you and Chloe had been in that nightclub wasn't something you cared much about, not least because the amount of alcohol in your system was starting to make your vision a little too slow.

Looking at your best friend, she had a bright smile as she balanced her glass and walked with you to one of the tables in the corner of the place. She sat down on one of the stools and pulled you to sit with her.

"You know what?" Chloe leaned towards you, resting her forehead on your shoulder. You automatically leaned your head on hers "I love you."

You knew it was the drink, but you laughed at her confession. Even though you knew that your friend loved you and you loved her back, there was no reason to find it funny, you could only be drunk enough.

"I love you more" you said back, kissing the top of her head.

Saying that you loved each other wasn't unusual, you both used to say how you felt and how much you loved each other. Being drunk and saying it made things ten times lighter, even funny because Chloe also laughed after hearing you say those words.

"Wow, what a beautiful smile" the male voice took you and Chloe out of the sisterly moment as you looked straight ahead. The man might have been well-dressed a few hours ago when he entered that club, but after a few hours the sweat was dripping down his forehead and his former tuft was now almost falling apart. But that didn't make him ugly, on the contrary, he looked very handsome as he approached the two of you.

"Who did you mean that for?" you asked.

"To both of you, actually" he said, smiling a little more "Can I join you?" 

You wanted to deny it, but Chloe agreed straight away and moved away from one of the benches so the boy could sit next to her. Leaving your best friend between you and the stranger.

"I'm Jungsu" the boy left his glass on the table, straightening his shirt "I've been watching you two for a while, you know" as Jungsu spoke, you could make out his features. Well-defined lines on his face, and his arms weren't muscular, but he could certainly work on his chest. Because they were big.

"Oh, really?" you heard Chloe ask with a surprised tone, he agreed with a smile as his eyes landed on you.

"Are you two alone here?" he asked.

Something clicked in your mind, in a few seconds making you a little more sober than usual.

"If you've been watching us for a while, you should already know the answer" you said without thinking.

The look Jungsu gave you could only indicate one thing. He knew how it worked. Perhaps he knew you or someone who worked for your father because he didn't seem surprised by your answer. On the contrary.

"I see you're the smart one around here" his smile made your stomach turn. The boy's striking lines, once handsome, now became repulsive as he stood up and stopped in front of her "Come on, I just want to have fun. Just like you."

"And how do you intend to do that?" Chloe looked up, glaring at the boy.

"Maybe with the two of you—"

The chill ran through her body at the exact moment Jungsu was yanked backward with all his might and then thrown to the ground. You weren't startled by the thud or Chloe's cry of astonishment, but by Jake standing over the man as he landed the first punch.

"You motherfucker!" he shouted, throwing the second punch.

Your eyes quickly searched around, noticing that Heeseung was already running towards Jake to try to get him off the man who was barely defending himself.

"We found you two" Sunoo ran up to you and Chloe, holding your best friend by the shoulders as she lifted her off the bench "How about we go home?"

"But Jake..." Chloe began.

"He'll be here a while, trust me" Sunoo reassured her, he didn't need to tell you anything because you knew it was true. Only Heeseung and Jay were capable of getting him off someone, and seeing how difficult it was for the two friends to do it, it might take a while.

"Is that all you know how to do, Sim Jayeun?" the man flashed a blood-covered smile when Jake stopped punching him.

"I told you to stay away, you fucking bastard!" he shouted, feeling his pulse stop in mid-air as Jay held him down with all his might.

"Which one is your girlfriend?" Jungsu whimpered as Jay managed to pull Jake off him. A few men helped the one on the ground to his feet, some people surrounded the scene of the fight, but they didn't seem that shocked.

You could tell that maybe this place was also a mafia hangout because people weren't surprised that a fight was going on. Even more so with so many men with guns and looking like such big, unsightly monuments.

"Shut up" Jake said.

"What? Is that her?" he spat, pointing in your direction. You were still walking with Sunoo and Chloe, turning around when Jungsu spoke too loudly, afraid that he had said something else offensive to Jake. The man's bloody grin widened as everything began to get a little quieter than he would have liked "Oh, that's her all right. Y/n."

He knew your name. Shit, and you let it show when your face contorted in shock at hearing it so well.

"Fuck, that's her" Jungsu took a step towards you, only to be stopped by Heeseung and Keeho who were right next to him "Hey y/n, I bet Jake's keeping a dirty little secret from you, isn't he?"

"Jungsu, don't" Jake pleaded, but he knew it was in vain. He was shaking and didn't know if it was from anger or fear of what he was about to hear.

Your throat closed up and your heart raced when he said it. So everyone knew Jake's secret except you? He had secrets?

"What?" you got away from Sunoo, he almost shouted because he was torn between holding Chloe completely drunk or going after you. 

Jake's pleading eyes asked you not to take another step, but you weren't looking directly at him. Your eyes were completely on Jungsu now.

"How do you know my name?" you asked.

"Oh, dear. Everyone knows who you are" he didn't mind the blood dripping from his lips "By the way, do you know that Jake had a brother?" his question didn't even have time to be processed, and you heard another one straight away "And do you know that he approached you out of pure interest?

Now your eyes were on Jake, silently wondering why the man was saying all this. Jake had a brother? Okay, that wasn't so bad, but him approaching you out of interest?

So everything you two had lived through had been a lie? Was that why he'd chosen the job, after all?

Jake didn't let his thoughts get any deeper. He ran past to pick another fight with Jungsu, you couldn't see what was going on because your view had been blocked by Keeho.

"How about we get out of here?" he asked you, trying to put on the best smile he could manage, even though it looked like a grimace at the moment.

"No. I want to—"

"Jay's taking him right now" Keeho said "Just, please, let's get out of here."

It wasn't clear whether his request had been a plea or an urgency, given the moment that the curses between Jake and Jungsu were heard.

Your head was spinning, a whirlwind of things was happening and you just really wanted to get out of there. But you didn't want to leave any of the boys behind, so even though you followed Keeho to the car, you didn't get in until Jake had left the club carried by Jay and Heeseung.

You looked away to see inside the vehicle next to you, Chloe lying peacefully asleep with her head on Sunoo's shoulder. He tried to smile at you, you smiled back and looked at the three who had just arrived.

"I'm going to kill him" Jake shouted.

"You calm the fucking down" Jay shouted back, making Jake stop fussing. Hearing him swear was something unusual, and anyone who knew Jay would be in shock when any swear word came out of his mouth "Let's get in the fucking car and go home."

Gradually the boys split up to get into their cars and drive away, and it was at that moment that you realized there was only you and Jake left.

Your gaze didn't want to meet his face because your heart was beating too hard, and you knew that with any eye contact, everything would easily fall apart. But Jake wasn't thinking like that, he needed your gaze on him. And as soon as Jake's fingers touched your chin, making you look at him, everything really fell apart.

Your vision was blurred by the amount of tears, noticing a cut on his cheek and a bruised lip. But nothing the bandages couldn't fix. Jake's eyes were also glossy, indicating that he was about to cry.

"What Jungsu said—" Jake felt his voice shaking, the knot in his throat preventing him from speaking. He knew he would cry copiously as long as he stood there looking at you.

"Let's go home" you also said shakily, not wanting to say anything else that wasn't necessary.

Jake just nodded, sighing loudly and preventing any tears from coming out. He decided to drive away, going in the car with Sunoo and Chloe, leaving you to go with Keeho and Heeseung. Maybe it was better to get away from him at least on the way home.

Jake never thought he would feel so empty not having your eyes fixed on him. He knew that you often looked away in the same room as him or even avoided looking at him, but your attention was on what Jake was saying or doing. Not now.

Now your attention was entirely on your feet walking down the hallway of the mansion as he walked beside you to your living room.

Jake's heart was still racing from the previous events and flashes of the scenes were going through his head. Sooner or later you would know everything, even if he wanted to hide it for so long, Jake knew that one day he would tell you about his brother, about why he had joined the mafia. He just didn't know that everything would be ruined by the disservice of someone who was only there to get in the way.

He felt his blood boil when he remembered Jungsu's words when he remembered your looking at him for answers that Jake didn't know how to give. He wanted to pull you out of that dance club and tell you everything.

But first, someone had to spoil it, making things up without any foundation because that's what happened in that environment. People made up rumors, and stories that had never happened just to see someone lose their head or get what they wanted. In this case, Jungsu wanted to make Jake lose his mind and, at worst, he wanted to steal you away from Jake.

The thought alone made the boy press his nails even harder against his own palm until the burning took over his skin.

"Jake!" you called out loudly, pulling his fists forward, and it was then that he realized that the two of you had already come to your office to get some things for his injuries.

"Sorry, I—" he pulled his hands back, opening them and seeing the nail marks starting to bleed "I'll clean this up."

"You can let me clean it up, we need to take care of your face" your shaky voice indicated that, at any moment, you were going to cry and Jake didn't even blame you because he was exactly the same way.

Raising his eyes in your direction, he noticed that you were picking everything up carefully, or moving slowly just to prolong the time you had to get close to him and tend to his wounds. Jake sighed at the idea of the last thought being true, so he just accepted it until you had picked everything up and returned to him.

Before you could even wet the absorbent cotton or put anything on his face, Jake grabbed your hand and made you stop. It wasn't a sudden act, but it made you tense in place and avoid looking up as he wanted. You stayed that way for a short while because when he called your name, in a whisper so low that even the slightest approach would be heard. It made you look up and face Jake.

You shouldn't have done that, he's too close. You thought to yourself, almost feeling your heart beat out of your throat as his eyes looked at you with such intensity.

"Can we do this in your room?" he asked, speaking again as soon as he noticed your mouth open, probably contradicting his question "I don't feel like seeing anyone, and I feel like the boys are going to look for me here."

You nodded, it wasn't as if you never tended to Jake's wounds in your room. That happened more often than in your care room, so you just gathered enough materials and indicated for him to follow you.

Walking to your room in silence wasn't torturous for Jake, it helped him think about all the things at once. Reorganize your thoughts and even the view in front of him.

He knew that in your mind, you thought that everything that had happened between the two of you was purely out of interest, could see the sadness in your eyes after Jungsu mentioned that lie. Jake just didn't know if you would listen to him after everything if he deserved to be listened to after hiding things from you for his own good and yours.

You went into your room first and dumped your things on the table next to a huge sofa in the corner of the room. Jake entered next, noticing that nothing had moved since the last time he was there. Maybe another picture of you and Chloe hanging on the photo wall you had or a flower that Sunoo sent you because he always did that.

And you always took care of all the flowers you received, he was sure because he remembered the times you picked up a handful on the way home before sneaking into your room. Jake would leave the flowers on the table waiting for you to come home from work or somewhere you'd gone with your dad and your best friend. You looked after the flowers until the last second of their life.

"Okay, here it is" your voice snapped Jake out of his nostalgic thoughts only to make him widen his eyes at the scene in front of him. You were holding a change of clothes out to him.

"What..."

"I still keep a lot of your things here, it's not that hard to find something of yours in my closet" you tried to smile, but the pain in your eyes made them shine even brighter. Struggling not to let any tears fall, Jake picked up his clothes and waved at you "You can take a shower here, I'll go in the other room."

"No, I'll do it" he stopped you "You can shower, I'll go in the next room and get ready and I'll be right back."

You knew this argument wouldn't be won by you, so you let him leave the room quickly in his clean clothes before closing the door.

A weight left your body as soon as you stepped under the warm rain, wetting everything you could and closing your eyes as you began to wash your hair. You wanted that water to have the power to take away all the bad feelings you were having and all the urge to cry that was stirring inside you. But perhaps it could be released little by little, so you allowed yourself to cry. Letting the tears fall, mixing with hot water as they soaked your face, and then opening your eyes. 

Swallowing sobs as you spent more than forty minutes under the water, not wanting to get out so soon, but you had to. Someone was waiting for you in the bedroom and you didn't even know if Jake was back yet, so you had to be quick.

Having finished washing, drying off, and putting on your pajama shorts along with a T-shirt – which was also Jake's – you left your hair damp until you left the bathroom. And you were right, Jake was already waiting for you in the bedroom.

He was sitting on the edge of your bed and facing the window, his hair was damp like yours and the black sweatshirt matching the black T-shirt you had given him made everything stand out even more in your room, which had always been in lighter tones. 

Jake looked in your direction as soon as your footsteps began to be heard around the room, and he couldn't help smiling when he noticed his T-shirt in your room. Such a familiar scene.

"I hope you don't mind..." you started to say as soon as you saw him staring too long at the T-shirt.

"Never. I always liked you wearing my clothes" he was still smiling, and you wondered if that bruise on his mouth didn't bother him when he did that.

Taking advantage of the fact that Jake was sitting on the edge of your bed, you picked up the things you had left on the table earlier and approached him again. On instinct, Jake spread his legs for you to sit on, which you did. 

"Let me know if it hurts, okay?" you asked, hearing him murmur in agreement and keep quiet while keeping his eyes closed.

It didn't hurt at all because you were always so careful, even more so with him. Jake wanted a little excuse to grunt in pain and grab your waist, but no, he could only relax and hear your voice calling him as soon as it was over.

He opened his eyes and noticed that you were already on your back, throwing the disposables in the trash and arranging what was left of the medical care so that you could take it out of your room later. 

"Y/n" he remained sitting on your bed, his eyes still on your figure when you turned to face him.

Jake didn't say anything, he couldn't. Not because he had nothing to say, but because too many things wanted to come out at once and he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Where would Jake start... by telling you about his brother? Or tell you how he approached you and really fell in love with you? Or should he tell you how sorry he was and take you to the hospital so you could see what he did apart from the extremely dangerous missions he went on?

Jake wanted to have the right order of words in his mind so that he wouldn't have to feel nervous in front of you. It was as if he was talking to you for the first time.

It was as if you were approaching him for the first time, looking into his eyes in such a brilliant and painful way that Jake wanted nothing more than to disappear. Take everything you were feeling and leave, because you were sad because of him. You had cried because of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry" Jake let the whisper slip out when you were close enough to him, almost touching his knee with one of your legs when you stopped facing him.

"It's okay" you tried to whisper in the same tone as him, sending a small smile when Jake's eyes couldn't take it anymore.

The whole thing spilled over because he felt he didn't deserve any of it. Jake deserved to be seen as a bloodthirsty monster who killed without shame and only earned the highest salary for it. He should continue to have you glare at him while thinking that he had chosen the job over you. Jake deserved every bad thing that was happening.

"Please, Y/n, I'm so sorry" he sobbed and lost himself in the moment with his head buried in your belly and your fingers in his hair. Jake cried softly and pulled you even tighter against his body when he felt your lips between his hair.

I don't deserve any of this, Jake thought.

You released him from the embrace as soon as you heard him stop crying little by little, sniffling softly when one last sigh left Jake's lips and he pulled you to sit next to him.

Feeling daring, Jake turned to face you, sitting on your bed and leaning close enough to rest his forehead against yours.

"I know you don't want to listen to me right now, even though I have a lot to say" the low tone sending shivers throughout your body, Jake's breath hitting your skin "But I just want you to know that the last thing Jungsu said was a lie. I never approached you out of interest."

You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from sighing with relief, not wanting to show that it had made you feel a little better. Even if you were still wary because he could be lying... couldn't he? According to Jungsu, Jake had a little secret, so was that it?

"Please stop feeding these lies in your head" he snapped you out of your thoughts and made you look at him "I can hear your mind screaming from here."

"I'm sorry, I—" you kept looking at Jake until you brought your hands forward and took his hands in yours "It's a lot to process..."

"I'm here and we'll talk about it later, okay?"

He seemed genuinely keen to talk later. Things that Jake had always shied away from or refused to tell you, he was now openly saying that the two of you should talk about.

"All right" you clasped your hands in his "How about we get some sleep now?"

"Okay" Jake moved his face away from yours, reluctant to let go of your hands as well "Anything, I'll be in the next room" he leaned towards you and left a slow kiss on your forehead. The sensation made you close your eyes, how you missed that kiss from him.

"Good night, Jake" you said.

"Good night, Y/n. See you tomorrow" he whispered with his lips still on your forehead, pulling away and getting out of bed to walk out of your room.

You followed him with your gaze until he was out of sight, hearing the door close and allowing yourself to throw your whole body onto the bed.

Part of you wanted to ask him to sleep there, with his body wrapped around yours and spending the night listening to his warm breath close enough. But another part of you was still upset and confused by everything that was happening, so you were grateful that he was able to think about it and make the two of you sleep apart at least that night. Jake probably wanted to think about everything too, and sleeping with you certainly wouldn't help the process.

Hugging each other's pillows and snuggling under the covers, at the same time and in separate rooms, you both thought about each other before falling asleep.

You could feel the weight of Heeseung's and Niki's gaze on you as you curled up a little more in the armchair, sipping the mug of hot chocolate you had ordered a few minutes ago.

Your two friends were looking just as sleepy as you, Niki almost devouring a piece of toast with cheese and Heeseung sipping the freshly brewed coffee he had also ordered.

The first few minutes of the morning in silence were crucial to your good mood for the rest of the day, but today in particular you were apprehensive and wanted to say everything that was on your mind. Firstly because Niki had knocked on your bedroom door and whispered to you to come down and have some coffee. Secondly, Heeseung seemed a little more restless than usual, if it weren't for the number of times he moved around in that armchair you could have sworn he wanted to run out of there.

"Y/n" Niki was the first to break the silence after he'd finished eating his toast, wiping any leftover bread from his mouth and settling lazily into his chair.

You mumbled something to show that you were listening to him, sipping more of your hot chocolate and letting the liquid warm your whole body.

Niki quickly glanced at Heeseung, grateful that you were staring at the irregular shapes your chocolate made with the milk mixture, missing the moment when the two of you hissed at each other for fear that you would hear.

Your gaze followed Niki at the exact moment he stopped hissing curses at Heeseung and started looking at you. A small smile adorned his lips as he clasped his hands together and rested his arms on the knees.

"Did you sleep well? Would you like something to eat besides hot chocolate?" he asked.

You took the last sip from your mug and placed it on the table in front of you, leaning back in the armchair and looking at him.

"What happened?" you asked him back, "You two are strange."

"We are strange" Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully and felt relieved when he heard you laugh, at least the morning sulk had passed. Then he straightened up a little more where he was sitting, rummaged in his back pocket, and pulled out a small envelope "This is for you."

"For me?" your brow furrowed in surprise. You didn't usually receive any letters, especially if one of your friends had delivered them. So receiving something like this made you feel surprised, but not hesitant, so you quickly snuck up at the same second as Heeseung to grab the envelope from his hands.

It was then that the pieces fell into place and you understood why the two people in front of you were so apprehensive.

Read it with Heeseung and Niki by your side, please. That's what the top of the envelope said, and Jake's unmistakable handwriting made your stomach turn.

Searching for answers, you looked at the two boys in front of you in the breakfast room and silently asked one of them to say something.

"He just asked me to give it to you" as if Heeseung had the power to read minds, he replied lowly, "Jake left in a hurry this morning with Jay and, well, we were in charge of leaving it with you."

You wanted to get angry and think that he'd run off once again, that Jake simply didn't want to explain himself to you while he went off with Jay to who knows where. But no, he didn't do that this time. Although an envelope wasn't a big deal because you hadn't even opened it yet, maybe something in there would make you think differently.

"Do you want to read it here? Or somewhere else?" Niki asked you.

"Can we read here?" you said, seeing that they both agreed with you.

The place wasn't too bad and no one would go there uninvited, it was one of their favorite corners of the mansion to have coffee or just go with Chloe when she was there. Choosing that environment for your breakfast had been a good idea, even if unintentionally.

"Before... Can I ask you something?"

"If we know the answer, of course" Heeseung said this time.

Your eyes were starting to blur and you took a deep breath to push away any urge to cry, or any heavy feeling that was enveloping your chest and taking over your body.

It wasn't going to beat you. Nothing was going to take you over like it had recently, even if the last night was replaying in your mind. Even if all the events surrounding your relationship with Jake were part of the reason why you were so easily vulnerable.

Playing with the paper in the envelope between your fingers, staring at Jake's hasty handwriting, and re-reading what was written there – at least three times – you finally looked at your friends again.

"Do you two know what's written in here?" you asked.

There was a certain period when Niki and Heeseung searched each other's gaze for a way to tell you that they did. They knew what Jake had written and even saw him cry copiously as he put every word on that paper.

They both wanted to say that Jake had finally plucked up the courage to tell you what was going on, but they also wanted you to find out for yourself as the older of the two in front of you nodded.

"We know and we even stayed with him while he was writing" Heeseung decided to be brief, even if the additional information didn't need to be said. But he wanted to lend credibility and make you feel a little less tense as he looked at you "And we're with you now."

You wanted to thank him for his words, even if nothing could be said to calm you down at that moment. Heeseung knew that, but it was worth a try.

So, with trembling fingers and irregular breathing, you opened the envelope and took the paper out.

Praying and asking everything you believed that, although those pages contained what Jake wanted to tell you, you would find him after reading every little word.

The blood on Jake's knuckles was nothing compared to the fury he felt as he threw another punch, hitting the jaw in front of him.

"You're still refusing to talk, aren't you?" he laughed sarcastically at the man in front of him, barely managing to mumble anything as he stared at Jake.

"I told you!" he muttered as best he could, spitting out the blood that had accumulated and groaning in pain.

Jake moved a little closer, his uninjured hand gripping the man's dark hair as he grinned devilishly. Anyone who says they've never been scared of Jake Sim is because they've never had the displeasure of running into him in a mob torture chamber. That man turned into the most perverse being anyone had ever seen.

"It wasn't enough, you know" Jake's lips were close to the other man's ear "Should we call Jungsu now, or are you going to open your fucking mouth and tell me?"

He knew he wasn't going to get much, it had been two hours since Jake had kept him in that room, torturing him in every way and he had never said anything very relevant. But the lack of understanding and the blindness of anger made Jake unreachable.

"Jay" he shouted to his friend on the other side of the mirrored glass, and after a few minutes the boy appeared beside him "Call Jungsu, now."

"No!" the man shouted, to no avail. Jay was already asking one of his cronies to call Jungsu and picked up the phone as he did so.

In any other situation, Jake might take pity on someone who had a swollen face – probably a broken nose – and blood coming out of their mouth. Cuts and bruises were the only thing visible on the very little skin left untouched. Jake would feel sorry for what he had done to someone in this situation, but he just couldn't think straight. Not when he was close enough to answer.

"Hello?" Jungsu answered, Jay quickly passed the phone to Jake – who wasted no time in putting it on speaker.

"Hey Jungsu, how's your day going?" he asked as casually as if he wasn't in a torture chamber with blood – literally – on his hands.

"Jake Sim?" he asked, spending a few seconds before saying again, "What the fuck are you calling me for?"

"Hey, watch your tone with me, you fucking asshole" Jake laughed "But I think you should check if anyone's around."

"Anyone missing? What are you talking about?" Jungsu stirred from wherever he was, the noise on the other end of the line indicating that he was walking somewhere. A few voices passed through the call as Jake waited patiently "Jake, what the fuck did you do?"

"Oh" he smiled at the boy in front of him "He doesn't even remember you're gone, Dave" a false pout adorned his lips as he looked at him.

"Dave? Jake Sim, you bastard" Jungsu shouted from the other end of the line, more footsteps being heard and voices booming "What did you do to him? I'm going to kill you!"

"Hey, relax man" Jake said into the speakerphone, pulling away from Dave and walking across the room "I found your little boyfriend out for a morning walk, so I called him over to talk."

"I should have killed your girlfriend when I had the chance."

"You wouldn't be here now. You know that, don't you?" Jake tried to look as calm as possible at his mention of the conversation, moving the phone to the other ear and leaning against the table in the corner of the room. His gaze went to Dave who was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"What do you want, Sim? Just fucking say it" Jungsu was exasperated. Jake knew he was rushing to find Dave anywhere. He breathed a sigh of relief as he asked Niki to deactivate any possible location.

"I want to know the truth" Jake rested his free hand on his elbow, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue. His throat went dry when he thought about saying it out loud, but everything was already so hot that he couldn't let it go "I want to know who of your men left my brother in a coma. And when I find out, you can be sure I'm going to kill him with my bare hands."

Jake swore he heard Jungsu swallow dry and so loudly that he, feeling manic, laughed at the sheer desperation of the man on the other end of the line.

"You have twenty-four hours to give me information, or your precious Dave will be back with you, that's for sure" he pouted with his lower lip even though Jungsu couldn't see, "but he won't be breathing anymore." Before he could hear any screams from the other man, Jake hung up.

At that moment across the room, Dave had fainted, because Jay and Sungchan were teaming up to lift him onto the chair, and even though Jake was against it, someone should clean him up. He'd gone too far and might recognize it later, but he wasn't going to stop them from at least taking away the excess of what his anger had done.

"Are you sick or what?" Heeseung ran a hand through his hair, exasperated as he watched Jake put the bandage on his finger. That job didn't need to be done by you, not to mention that it would lead to a big explanation as to why Jake was hurt like that. And that was something he wanted to avoid at the moment.

"I told you I'd do it" Jake warned, leaning back on the table after wrapping his middle finger in the band-aid.

"You said you'd talk to Jungsu, not kidnap his boyfriend" the other boy paced back and forth in the room, taking a deep breath as he went over the information Jake had given him a few minutes ago.

"And Y/n, where is she?" 

"Probably in her room reading your letter" Heeseung turned to Jake "She changed her mind and said she wanted to do it alone, but Niki is in the corridors in case she needs anything."

"She'll need it" Jake said.

"Did you write everything in that letter?" his friend approached him, leaning against the table next to Jake and hearing him agree with a quick sound coming out of his mouth "About your brother and why you're in this fucking job?"

"Everything, every detail" Jake bit his lower lip to avoid any expression radiating from his face. Whether it was pure fear or nervousness, he didn't want Heeseung to know.

"So she'll probably want to kill you in a few minutes, or be running around the mansion to hug and kiss you."

"I think I'll take the first option, knowing Y/n the way I do" he laughed, being joined by his friend.

Jake knew it wasn't the best way to tell him everything that had happened since he joined the mafia a few years ago. Perhaps holding your hand, looking into your eyes, and saying everything out loud was the best thing to do, but as always Jake felt afraid. He felt himself becoming more and more fearful and cowardly when it came to facing reality and saying it out loud. Especially to you.

Writing it all down made Jake relive every moment since he first set foot in that mansion. Bad feelings surged through every ounce of his body as he felt his eyes burn from staring at anyone who passed his way.  

If they were to personify the word revenge, it would surely be Jake on the day he arrived at the mansion. Or as he prefers to remember it, the day he met you.

"All I know is that I was close enough and I know that Jungsu will bring some information, we're almost there, Heeseung."

"You just can't forget how much Y/n's father is betting on it and putting a lot more people on the missions you call, can you?" Jake sighed at the thought, knowing that Heeseung was right as he said, "I know you're close to knowing who did this, but don't forget that there are people with you. And we don't want anyone to die in the process, do we?"

"No, I don't want that" Jake looked at him, sincerity in his eyes. He knew that all his anger was blinding him when it came to knowing who had done all this to his brother.

Jake wanted to try to be a little more rational after having gotten so close, and after having taken someone as bait to get Jungsu to tell him what he wanted to know. 

His thoughts were soon interrupted when a few faint knocks sounded against the thick wood of the office door. Jake and Heeseung turned and the latter called out, welcoming Niki in. He had a humorless smile on his face and his hands in his sweatshirt pockets.

"Hey, how are you two?" he asked as soon as he had closed the door.

"What the fuck did you do, Nishimura?" Jake looked at him, then took a step forward. Heeseung was quicker, pulling Jake by the shirt and making his friend stagger over to the coffee table in the office.

"What happened?" Heeseung looked at him.

There was silence for a while as Niki looked between Jake and Heeseung, then at the paintings hanging on the office wall. He wondered how long it had taken the artist to make so many stars in a painting of the night sky, each brushstroke must have been very precise because there wasn't a single blur. At least not a visible one.

"Right..." he snorted, taking his hands out of his pockets and pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head to try and hide from his friends. But to no avail, Niki knew he was being very well seen by the two in the room. So he turned around and pulled the hood off his head, tensing his jaw as he noticed each of the expressions staring back at him "How likely is it that Y/n jumped out of her bedroom window and ran away?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Niki?" Jake laughed a little as he looked at him, stopping laughing the moment he saw that Niki hadn't flinched for a single second and hadn't made a single move since he'd said that "Dude, what did you just say?"

"Y/n jumped out her fucking bedroom window? What do you mean?" Heeseung almost shouted.

Niki wanted to cry already imagining what would happen because you were under his supervision. 

"I was in the hallway and every five minutes I'd knock on the door to see if she was okay, if she'd read the letter, or if she needed anything" Niki didn't dare move a muscle as he spoke, staying close to the wall and thanking Heeseung for standing between him and Jake "There was a time when she stopped answering the knocks, so I thought she was reading and wanted some time alone."

He was the one who was most in charge of checking up on you in that mansion because Niki's job had always been to take care of the electronic system and every such thing for your father. So working from home was more advantageous, not to mention the mountain of equipment he would have to take on each mission if he had to actively accompany his friends. So he ended up spending most of his time with you.

"Only that took many minutes and I ended up opening the bedroom door at one point" Niki mussed her hair quickly "The window was completely open, I searched under the bed, inside the closet, no sign of her."

"And have you told her father?" Heeseung asked, Niki nodded in agreement.

"I also checked the security cameras, she left with Chloe less than twenty minutes ago."

"Did you put a tracker on Chloe's car too?" Jake asked.

"I couldn't" Niki whined.

"Okay, let's try our luck and search the places they're going. Chloe's house, anything" Heeseung started to walk with Niki, but felt Jake push them both and get out in front.

"You two go check it out" he glared at his friends, looking like he could kill anyone as the orbs darkened and Jake's facial muscles clenched. Niki felt his throat go dry, if this was how he looked at every person he killed, he knew they had all died first of fear before being hit by any of Jake's weapons "I'm going to turn this fucking town upside down until I find Y/n."

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

#enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen #enhypen angst #enha smut #jake angst #enhypen jake #jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enhypen au #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #jaeyun x reader #enhypen masterlist #jake sim smut #jake sim angst #jake fanfics #jake sim x reader #jake imagines #Spotify

[lesinquietes]

Summary: With Dynamight’s help, you solved the crime. He isn’t quite finished with you yet, though.

Adult!Bakugou x Forensic Detective!Reader

⚠️ fluff. suggestive themes.

I Previous l Next l

You close the manila folder on your desk and lean back in your chair. A breathy, content sigh leaves your lips. The case has been solved. The evidence has been retained. All that’s left is to file the associated documents. Then, you can head home for the evening. Another job well done.

You gaze out at the cityscape. The sunset sprays beams of brilliant yellow and orange towards your office building, reflecting off the large glass windows. The streets are busy with people and cars. Soon, you’ll join the bustle, conforming for the sake of commuting home.

Sometimes, when you sit here like this, you consider how small everyone is compared to the rest of the universe. Most actions that seem supermassive are actually minuscule and insignificant. In the grand scheme of things, you wonder if the job you’re doing makes a difference. Maybe not wide scale, but arguably, Japan could stand to be safer. Heroes do a lot of the rounding up these days, but you think local detective work is still important.

“Hey.”

You perk up. Speak of the devil.

You glance away from the view to greet Katsuki Bakugou, the hero who spent his time protecting you throughout your most recent case. He’s leaning against the door, arms folded arrogantly over his chest. At once, a smile graces your mouth. As soon as you submitted your conclusion about the primary suspect — with enough evidence, to boot — the Captain of your force implored Bakugou to make an arrest. Of course, the rowdy blonde didn’t capture the villain without beating him to a bloody pulp first. Normally, you wouldn’t condone such behaviour; however, given that the murderer targeted random women every time he killed, you can turn a blind eye. Men like that don’t deserve mercy.

You adjust your position so that you’re sitting upright. You know he doesn’t care; you’re not sure why you do. When you’re satisfied, you raise your fists in the air and reply.

“We did it!”

The exhaustion woven into your words isn’t missed. Since gathering that first sample at the initial crime scene, you haven’t stopped working. He admires your drive to do what’s right.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Plenty more where that came from, though.”

“True.” You acknowledge, climbing to your feet. “But that’s one down.”

And Katsuki can’t argue with that. In fact, Katsuki finds he can seldom argue with you. It’s not that you’re always right; he thinks it’s because he likes listening to the sound of your voice. It’s unique. It’s calming. It’s something about you that he’s grown excessively fond of.

At last, he enters your office, like a moth drawn to fire. He’s still dressed in his hero garb. You notice there aren’t any scuffs on his pristine skin, indicating that his battle was rather one-sided. This is the first time you’re seeing him after the arrest. Everyone knows he doesn’t talk to the News team unless he has to; reporting to the public falls on the officers assisting his cases.

“You alright?” He asks, watching from a short distance as you gather your belongings.

“Definitely.” You verify. “You?”

“Whatever.”

That’s a yes. He doesn’t like to be upfront with his feelings. You’re beginning to understand his cues, though. It’s a shame this is the end of your time together; you would have liked to continue figuring him out. Perhaps another high-profile case will pop up and he’ll be assigned to you again. You can’t lie — you’re hoping for that to happen a little harder than you should be.

You throw on your windbreaker and take your knapsack in your hand. He hasn’t moved an inch from the front of your desk. It’s as if he’s been glued in place. The only part of him that’s visibly moving are his deep crimson eyes. He’s fixated on you. But unlike when you caught him at the crime scene, he won’t glance away this time.

“Dynamight, thank you so much for your work today.” You beam at him. “Without you, I—“

“Told’j’ya before, princess, it’s Katsuki.” He scoffs. “F’r fuck’s sake, talk t’ me like a normal person.”

You feel the heat spread across your cheeks. You’re praying he doesn’t notice your change in expression, but who are you kidding? Although the man acts like he’s emotionally unavailable, he picks up on more than you think. You flounder with your response.

“It’s just, we don’t really know each other like that, so I didn’t want to—“

“‘Course we do.” He lifts a critical brow. “You’re comin’ t’ dinner with me now that this shit’s over with, right?”

Mentally, your jaw is unscrewed and on the floor. Is this reality? The Dynamight — the rudest, most impressive motherfucker you’ve ever had the pleasure of working with — is asking you on a date. All this time, you thought his flirting was a game, while deeply regretting that you hadn’t made a move before your time with him was up. Discovering that your crush is mutual reinvigorates you. Before you fuck this up, you muster a reply.

“Uh… yes!” You giggle. “Of course I will!”

You don’t know how you manage to keep a steady tone. The only thing you can’t control is your face. Fortunately, he thinks it’s hella cute. Without considering who might be watching, he strokes your cheek with his thumb to coax back your attention. He nearly melts when you shyly meet his gaze, such a small, innocent smile gracing your lips. He knows it’s too soon to kiss you. He wishes it wasn’t. Instead, he offers you his arm. Your hand feels warm against his bare bicep.

He grabs your knapsack from you — a gentleman’s gesture that’s a little rough around the edges. Thankfully, the execution doesn’t bother you; it’s the thought that counts. Katsuki thinks that might be what attracted him to you. The way you conceptualize him is different. Last week, a woman scolded him for his use of language, even though he saved her purse from being stolen. Shouldn’t it be his actions that matter? Some days, he feels like he’s back in his teenage years, dealing with Best Jeanist’s strict teachings again. People need to learn not to judge a book by its cover.

He guides you out of your office with his hand secured to your lower back. You don’t miss the stares and whispers of your colleagues. You’ll have a lot to explain tomorrow morning.

“You like Indian food?” He inquires lowly, warm breath ghosting over your face.

“Sure.”

If you make it in.

#minors dni #katsuki bakugou x reader #pro hero bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #fem reader #adult bakugou #bakugou x forensic detective #afab reader #soft bakugou

[adammilligan]

also since everyone seems to like tdodl so much (still insane to me btw) is it worth mentioning that i have 52 pages of a kind-of sort-of sequel that i wrote from michael's pov that i ultimately abandoned because michael is such an incredibly complex character to write. idk. here's a snippet of it anyway because maybe someone will enjoy it:

There is little talk between them for the first couple of days. 

It might be the shock at seeing each other again. Michael had never expected to, when he was wasting away in the Empty the same way he’d done in the Cage—only alone this time.

Adam had never expected to either, if the glances he keeps throwing Michael are any indication. 

But they don’t talk. And Michael, not for the first time in his recent existence, is unsure. 

He has nothing to compare it to. Even before, when they’d first made contact, they had talked to each other. Though perhaps talk was too strong of a word—they’d snap at each other, more like. Words filled to the brim with vitriol, with hurt, with rage, with desperation, taking the hopelessness they felt out on the other and learning not to take it personally until it had stopped altogether. 

Now, there’s just a stifling sort of quiet between them, like they’re both waiting for the other to speak and neither of them is quite brave enough to do it. 

Adam glances at him, and his eyes are not of those gazing upon the miracle of someone who’d come back to life. They look at him like he’s impossible, as if Michael was something entirely new, sewn together in the spaces adjacent to the universe and spat out on the hardwood of his floor instead of an archangel crafted by the hand of God. 

Michael can’t even bring himself to bristle at it, which leaves him with the impression that he’ll fall out of Adam’s body and sink down to the center of the Earth if he isn’t careful. A flick of his wings could topple cities, a flash of his eyes could raze landscapes, and still. Still. 

The weariness eats at him. 

He isn’t sure if weariness is even the right word to call it, but—to the small, silent speck of horror that glitters somewhere deep within him—it is the only word he can come up with, in every language and every variation thereof, in Enochian and the bastardization of it that Lucifer had developed in Hell that he’d screamed at Michael in the Cage until there was nothing left to do except fight, and fight, and fight. 

Poison has no effect on him, but it spreads through him like one regardless, and he sees the slump of his wings mirrored in the set of Adam’s shoulders.

It is a small comfort, he supposes, to share their burdens even now.

#given that this is my blog and i'll put what i want on it i will say that the entirety of this 52 page rough draft #is written a thousand times better than tdodl ever was. though i assume it's because tdodl was written #when i was in high school and chohw (come hell or high water) which is this fic was written during my first couple of years of college #will i ever finish it? almost definitely not. at least not for a few years at the very least. but it's interesting to compare my writing #side-by-side because there IS a notable difference. anyway #kate rambles #my stuff

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Grinding on all the characters, have you done thoughts about Farena?

Hmmm 🤔 I'm not sure if I have much to remark on, since we don't have much in the way of Falena lore... but I’ll try to give my thoughts based on what we do already know!

The first thing that I immediately notice about Falena is that he is more attuned to his younger brother’s feelings than Mufasa was to Scar’s. In Leona’s episode 2 (part 27) flashback, Falena expresses disappointment that his little brother wasn’t present to see Cheka being presented to the kingdom. Falena is also noted as having directly addressed Leona’s insecurities while still propping up his strengths:  “Leona... You are intelligent. Certainly there are things you can do for this country even though you can't become king." When Leona gets upset and leaves the conversation, you can hear desperation in Falena’s voice; he sounds like he’s pleading for Leona to come back, to please listen to him. Falena never turns violent on him, and he makes attempts to demonstrate that he understands where Leona is coming from. Regardless of what Leona personally thinks of him, Falena is, indeed, a good brother.

By comparison, I can’t say that I recall a single moment when Mufasa ever acknowledged Scar’s frustrations or genuinely tried to encourage him. Mufasa is, at times, actually hostile towards Scar. In the scene where he confronts Scar about not being present at the presentation of Simba, Mufasa’s expression implies not just disappointment, but anger. Furthermore, when Scar proceeds to walk away from his brother and implies that perhaps Mufasa shouldn’t have turned his back on him, Mufasa interprets that as a “challenge”. His pose, face, and roar all insinuate that he was prepared to fight Scar over a sarcastic remark. The Lion King pitches Mufasa to us, the audience, as a good king and a good father, but it is instances like this that make me think that Mufasa certainly wasn’t a good brother. Scar’s wording suggests that he felt betrayed by his own brother, who didn’t seem to be there to emotionally support him in his time of need. In fact, Scar is only called “Scar” because it was a nickname that Mufasa gave him. His own older brother isn’t even going to acknowledge him by his actual name, but rather by a nickname that he got because of an injury--an injury that Scar sustained because he had gotten tricked. Mufasa didn’t take the injury seriously and instead went on to use a physical indication of Scar’s shame to refer to him. I don’t know about you, but that’s pretty insensitive of Mufasa to do 🤡 Even if Scar wasn’t necessarily a good person (lion?), Mufasa shouldn’t have threatened him in the present or remained so ignorant to his suffering and brewing feelings of contempt in the past.

While we’re still comparing Mufasa and Falena, it seems that Falena is actually the opposite of Mufasa in some ways. Falena is described to be bright and cheerful by the palace servants. We also see that he is thoughtful of everyone, including his scorned younger brother. Mufasa, on the other hand, can be jolly, but usually only around his family. He otherwise maintains a businesslike and stern demeanor befitting of a king, but adopts a more playful attitude when he’s able to be around his son. (For example, while Zazu was giving the morning report, Mufasa listened with interest, but decided to turn it into a pouncing lesson when he noticed that Simba was having some fun on his own.) Mufasa is also thoughtful, but on a broader scope--he always keeps the Circle of Life in consideration when ruling, making sure that the predators don’t overhunt, thus throwing the entire ecosystem off balance and endangering all that reside within it. Now, while Mufasa is a good ruler and a bad brother, Falena is a good brother but a bad ruler.

... Well, maybe calling him a “bad” ruler is a bit of a hyperbole, but he’s definitely not as attentive of a ruler as Mufasa was. In Leona’s Birthday Boy vignettes, Leona describes his brother as someone who is “so noisy” and “always wanting to take care of me”. Falena even sends Leona a very expensive rug for a birthday present when it could have been sent to a neighboring country instead to strengthen their friendship (an example that Leona himself gives). It’s clear that Falena cares for his family a lot, as he is implied to also be noisy with his wife and child, Cheka back in the Sunset Savanna. But even though Falena has a kingdom to rule and a family to look after, he did NOT forgot Leona or leave him behind. He keeps trying to reach out to his little brother and offer what gifts and support he can. Can you imagine how much shittier Leona could have turned out if he HADN’T had at least Falena there trying to cushion the blows of all the things the servants said about him? Imagine a Leona that DOES believe that his older brother completely turned his back on him instead of a Leona that is just irritated by Falena’s attempts to coddle him or to make him feel better; the former might have turned out just as bad, if not worse than, Scar--not just vengeful, but completely hateful and unable to be redeemed.

Falena is said to be kind to everyone, but Leona scoffs at this trait and remarks that Falena “should [only think] about our country” and “his concerns aren’t in the right place”. Leona concludes his remarks by saying that “I worry for [our] country’s future with how laidback [Falena] is.” In the chapter 2 flashback I referenced earlier, Leona also has a line that implies that Falena sometimes naps and/or sings all day instead of tending to his royal duties. Obviously, we must consider that we are getting this information from a very biased source (Leona), but I do believe there is some truth to what he has provided to us—because as critical of his brother as Leona is, Leona also demonstrates that he himself is thinking of his country’s future and holds genuine concerns about it due to the way Falena rules. Maybe Falena is far too lenient of a king, and Leona realizes that can make their country look weak to others. There is value in ruling with kindness, but it can also serve as a double-edged sword. It’s something that Leona realizes, but maybe something that Falena overlooks. Again, I’m not saying that Falena is a “bad” ruler, but he probably takes those royal duties less seriously than he should and that he makes space for other things in his life, like his family. If anything, Falena is more like an older Simba (that was living with Timon and Pumba) than like Mufasa: cheery and idealistic, but sharing the same fierce loyalty to his family and friends.

The only area that I would say we are lacking in details for comparison would be in the parental department. I think a lot of us (myself included) assumed that Falena is a loving dad because of how prominent Mufasa and Simba’s father-son relationship was in The Lion King, and I still think that this is also true of Falena. However, I do want to see more concrete lore about Cheka and his dad, since we’ve already gotten bits of Cheka being overly affectionate and loving toward Leona. Is Cheka even worse when it comes to his own dad? 🤣 Or does Cheka show favoritism to his uncle over his dad for some reason??????? How does Falena feel when he hears that Cheka has snuck off from his assigned security and potentially putting himself in danger? I’d really want to know these things!! Show me how much of a doting dad Falena is, TWST 🥰 I am no longer asking--

I think that these differences between Falena and his Disney counterpart lend him a lot of character depth and potential for exploration, despite the lack of screen time that Falena has had in canon. I would be very interested in meeting him in-game and seeing just how much of what Leona has said about him holds true.

#twst analysis #twisted wonderland character analysis #Leona Kingscholar #twst character analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #Cheka Kingscholar #notes from the writing raven #question #Falena Kingscholar #spoilers #Mufasa #Scar #Timon #Pumba #The Lion King #Farena Kingscholar #Simba #Zazu #when I say ‘I don’t have much to say’ I guess it’s actually the code words for ‘I actually have a lot to say’

[soulsxng]

🎥 Aro

@arcxnumvitae | 🎥

"Were you trying to escape me? What a deluded mutt...and here I had thought I finally taken all the fight out of you, with how obedient you'd been the past few months. Well. I suppose that's to be expected, when you're dealing with a stupid beast, they're bound to forget their training if they're given the opportunity. And you even went and stole my God Seal, hmm? After I told you that you didn't need it anymore, too...how nice it was of my assistant to return it to me."

The words echoed in the god's mind. Some hazy nightmare brought about by the fever, no doubt...though Darrow didn't remember falling asleep. So maybe it was a delusion. He didn't know, anymore.

Either way, when he opened his eyes, his vision swam. Even though he knew he was laying down, it felt for a few long moments, like he was falling. He didn't dare to attempt sitting-- he already knew the result that would come of it.

"Ah-ah, I'm not finished with you, yet. Did you think I would really dismiss you after such an act, without punishment? No, of course not. Now, kneel."

"Mnh..." Everything hurt. He felt weak. His body freezing and burning up all at the same time.

When he turned his head a bit, he could just barely make out the discolored that spread from the wound on his back and hip. An ugly hue, made manifest by the infection that was no doubt coursing through him.

He felt like he needed to throw up, but by this point, he doubted even bile would come up.

"They really weren't kidding about this sword of yours, were they? Hah! Perhaps I should keep this, as well. After all, a feral beast like you should be able to fight just fine with fang and claw."

How long had he been laying here? It felt like forever.

Maybe Irazor knew, somehow, that the deity he'd captured had a back-up plan, in the event that the escape that led to his being in this position failed. Of course, Aro had planned to do it another way, but...

Agonizing as this was, it was likely to work better than the old plan.

"...Hm? My. Looks like I may have gone a bit overboard. Can't get up? Pitiful...you two! Make yourselves useful, and bring my little pet back to his cage, before he bloodies my floor any further."

It took time to get to this point. But...after cutting off his connection to his God Seal nearly in its entirety, he may as well have been a simple kitsune, again. A being that needed to eat, and drink. A being that could get sick, and easily die from a wound as grievous as this.

Irazor wouldn't want to risk losing the Inari as a tool, so he would eventually have no choice but to call a healer. And there were only so many who had the ability to heal a god that was so far gone. Fewer still who wouldn't sell him out for having entrapped a deity, like this.

And the closest to this place in particular, happened to be none other than...

"Darrow? Darrow! There you are, you stubborn fox-- oh, look at the state of you...! Don't you bare your teeth at me now, I'm going to help, but we need to be quick! Irazor's men will find him any moment, and I have no doubt that they'll come straight this way, once they do."

A small, rough hand presses briefly to his cheek, and though he nearly bites at it, the familiarity of the voice stops all but the weak snarl that rumbles in his throat. A snarl that quickly turns into a small whine when his vision settles enough for him to make out the form of the faerie witch who was knelt beside him.

Something was pressed into his hand, and even in his severely addled state, the thrum of power that immediately reverberated through him made it clear that it was none other than his God Seal.

Between that, and the sudden (and painful, though if he made any noise to indicate such, she didn't comment) burst of healing magic forced through his body, Aro at last felt some semblance of awareness returning to him. He still wasn't able to move much, but it was something. At that very least, he could return to his fox form, to allow himself to be cautiously lifted into the sling pouch the witch had carried him in countless times before.

'Clio...'

If she hadn't immediately looked down at him, he would have worried that he didn't have the energy to communicate with her in this form. Even if it was an extremely limited form of telepathy, it still felt like it was taking a lot out of him with even that one word.

"What is it, dear? You should be saving your--"

'...I feel disgusting. I want to take a bath when we get home.'

Obviously that was not the right thing to say, at this moment, because all Clio did was give a near growl of "Oh! Mischievous little...! And here I had worried myself sick over you! No more yapping out of you; rest!" Before buttoning the pouch shut.

Maybe that was for the best, though. This way, she wouldn't be able to see the way he trembled. Ignoring the way his body was further wracked with pain, when he wiggled around to press as close to her warmth and familiar scent, as he could manage.

'...Thank you, Clio...'

#[Darrow -drabbles-] #(I did say this one was the more painful one #but I didn't want to just write about the stuff that Irazor made Aro do because that's gonna come up in the the main verse stuff soon! #Pretty much though Irazor is an elven nobleman #connected to the royal line but like...not high enough up in the line of succession to make it to the throne on his own #which is part of why he entrapped Aro in the first place #was to help him get rid of competition and that kind of thing to make himself higher in the line of succession #and make himself appear as a better candidate when he eventually was the one to miraculously 'stop' Aro during one of his rages #I have to look against to make sure but I think Aro was kept by the guy for a little less than a year?)

[knucklescum]

Mind Over Matter ch.1 - Helmut Zemo x reader

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x mutant!fem!reader

Word Count: 741

Warnings: None! (other than my attempt to salvage a fic i started when i was 14)

Twelve Years Earlier

Maybe university wasn’t for you. You were two years into your degree, yet you felt as though you’d only been there for a brief amount of time - although perhaps your attendance (or lack thereof) was a good indication of why that may be.

By some miracle, though, you had been accepted onto your course’s year of study abroad. You could have picked anywhere: Japan, Canada, France! 

You chose Sokovia. 

To this day, you weren't entirely sure why you had picked Sokovia specifically - it was a shitty little country with nothing too special about it, but perhaps it was its absolute nothingness that brought you there. You didn't have to be anything special in that sort of place, just simply exist.

The campus was actually quite a pretty place, with beautifully detailed architecture and a wonderfully weird combination of young people all trying to find their footing in society. You couldn't help but get distracted by the constant quiet excitement on the campus, so much so that you were headed in the completely wrong direction of your lecture hall.

In hindsight, perhaps missing your first lecture at a new university, in a new country, just to admire the campus was an incredibly stupid thing to do. But maybe it was fate, too. Life is filled with weird signs from the universe that you never quite realise until the moment has long passed; this was definitely one of those moments, whether you accepted it or not.

As you head mindlessly down one of the many narrow pathways that weaved between the campus buildings, looking up at the delicately detailed archways and hidden little gargoyle figures, you fail to notice an embarrassingly large, loose cobble. Before you could even begin to register what was happening you were on the floor, a stinging graze on your elbow and a bruise already forming on your knee.

“That’s a compensation claim,” you hear a Sokovian, male voice chuckle from a metre away.

You look up to see a dark haired, friendly faced man holding his hand out in an attempt to help you up.

“I was really hoping no-one saw that,” you laugh, your voice laced with embarrassment as you take hold of his hand, pulling yourself back on to your feet.

Letting go of his hand, you finally made eye contact with the man, finding him to be maybe two or three years your senior.

You couldn’t lie - he was gorgeous. Deep, brown eyes with a perfectly round yet defined face and a laughing smile directed at you.

“There’s plenty of guys around here, you know. You didn’t need to throw yourself to the ground to get their attention,” he laughs, nudging your side with his as the two of you begin to walk, only for him to stop when he notices that he’s nearly knocked you onto the ground once again.

“Hey!” you exclaim, turning to face him in feigned offence. “How do I know that you didn’t pull that stone out yourself to get my attention?”

“You got me!” he says, his hands up in surrender. “I just love pulling pathways apart with my bare hands to get girls’ attention.”

“You Sokovians have some weird hobbies.” you laugh, the man narrowing his eyes at you before shaking his head in defeat.

The two of you continue to walk, a comfortable silence between you.

“Kaffee?”

His voice catches you by surprise once again, tilting your head for him to continue.

“I kind of feel like I owe you for, you know, laughing at you,” he says, a faint redness creeping onto his cheeks. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, natürlich!”

“I would love to!” you exclaim, almost overly excited to actually be spending some time with a real life human. “Lead the way.”

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

On your way to the cafe, you’d been worried that you’d struggle with keeping the conversation going, that your social skills may had worsened significantly over the summer, but you and this mystery man completely clicked. The two of you were so comfortable together, it felt as though you had known each other for years, as if you were childhood friends.

“I probably should have asked you this before,” you say, your hands wrapped around the warmth of your mug. “But, what’s your name?”

“I’m Helmut Zemo,” he states, nodding his head towards you. “Most people just call me Zemo though.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Helmut.”

You take another sip from your mug, eyes locked with Helmut’s as you do so before you’re suddenly startled - 

She completely missed her lecture.

Part 2

#helmut zemo #zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #cacw #cacw helmut zemo #cacw zemo #fatws #fatws helmut zemo #fatws zemo #fatws helmut zemo x reader #mutant reader #mind reading teehee #yes i'm rewriting one of my ancient texts but starting with the last chapter #what are you gonna do about it #seriously why did i abandon this fic on wattpad with a FLASHBACK?!?!?! #i dumb

[silenthillmutual]

This might be mort angst comfort but established relationship Artemy and Daniil mini fight after Artemy leaves with Aglaya and it goes wrong? Maybe with Artemy apologizing or something?

(this turned out to be angst w no comfort but maybe i’ll write the comfort part later. who knows...)

It’s nearly three in the morning when Artemy comes by.

Daniil is exuberant. He hasn’t slept in - thirty-six hours, at least, but the work he’s managed to accomplish in all this time! A little late, of course, to be making such a breakthrough, but it’s better than no progress at all.

“I know what you’ll say,” Daniil begins, waving his hand in the air. His eye is still stuck to the ocular lens of his microscope, observing the culture in motion. It’s utterly breathtaking. “Should I be asleep? Perhaps. But I’ve finally managed something approximating a vaccine!” He flips his arm, extending it behind his body to reach for Artemy. “Come, my dear, and have a look at this.”

Artemy accepts the offered hand, but his gait is different. Slow, as though trudging through mud to come to Daniil’s side. Daniil moves aside, gesturing with his free hand to the microscope.

It’s evident, even from the side, that Artemy is not really looking. His expression doesn’t change, his fingers don’t adjust the magnification, and no words pass by his lips.

All Daniil’s energy seems a waste, now. Rubin would have given him a bigger reaction this, and he’s hardly the expressive sort.

“Something’s troubling you,” Daniil mumbles, fingers toying with a stray lock of Artemy’s hair. His partner’s eyes turn downward, and Daniil pushes the strands behind his ear. “Is it the panacea?” he guesses. “You’re frustrated, I understand, but that blood cannot have been the last of it. There must be a source, somewhere. Somewhere you haven’t thought to look yet. And when you find it, you’ll think - ah! I’ve been such a fool!”

He tries to offer Artemy a smile. A rarity for him, for them both; but Artemy doesn’t so much as look his way. He stays, head bowed, staring at his hands.

Daniil places his hands on Artemy’s cheeks, turning his head toward him.

It looks as though he’s been crying.

“Aglaya’s dead,” he says softly. And then he looks away, torn from Daniil’s caress. Daniil allows his hands to fall to his sides, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He’s uncertain if he’s meant to express his sympathies or what. He wouldn’t consider her death something to cry over. She’d only been in town a short while, less even than Daniil himself, and was sent here to die in the first place.

But Daniil keeps his commentary to himself. It wouldn’t be welcomed. He never saw eye to eye with the Inquisitor. She’d arrived and immediately humiliated him, devalued his work and looked for reasons to not engage with him. She had the Tower in her destructive sights, and Daniil could not say he was sorry to see her go.

“They stopped the train,” Artemy mutters. “We hadn’t made it far, but the army came and - the train stopped.” He shakes his head, covering his eyes with both hands. “I tried to think of a lie, something to get them to leave us alone. But the moment she stepped out, they just shot her. And now she’s dead.”

The story doesn’t sit right with Daniil. He starts to rub his fingers together, running over the words spoken as Artemy sits, silent. They stopped the train. We hadn’t made it far, but the army came and - the train stopped.

“Artemy.” He gives no indication that he’s heard Daniil calling for him. Daniil feels he might throw up. “What train?”

He watches Artemy blink slowly, brow furrowing. “Huh?”

“What train are you talking about?” Artemy looks up at him, eyes a little wider, and Daniil - Daniil feels a storm of emotions about to burst from his chest.

He takes a preemptive step back, just as Artemy starts to reach for him.

“Daniil,” he says, his voice still unsteady and falling rapidly as Daniil begins to close in on himself. “She wanted to escape. She didn’t want this fate - and it was cruel to her, sending her here to die.” Daniil wants to laugh. Wants to be the cruelty she tried to escape. The only sound that makes its way from his throat is a strangled cry. “There was a train at the station, the first one to leave in months -”

“You went with her.”

The reality of the words set in with the guilt of Artemy’s expression. Daniil didn’t think he’d ever see it. The man is so headstrong. He expects a litany of justifications, of explanations he’ll refuse to hear, but never this look of admission.

And it’s the look that stings. The knowledge creeping over Daniil’s shoulders, gripping him in a panic, that Aglaya had proposed they run away together and that Artemy had agreed. Did he consider the children at any point, Daniil wonders? Was there a thought spared for their lives, left to their own devices in that hovel he calls a workshop, waiting for him to return? Or were they as easily discarded as Daniil the minute he was handed a better offer?

Who would have thought? Artemy Burakh, taking the easy way out.

Unless he never intended to stay. Maybe all this talk of working together, of seeing it through the plague and walking hand-in-hand was just a tactic to get Daniil to agree to things he’d never have decided on his own.

Fingers, warm and corporeal graze Daniil’s shoulders. He flinches, stumbling back. He’d forgotten himself. “Don’t touch me.”

He doesn’t bother looking Artemy’s direction, to the hurt he knows will be written all over the other man’s face. He heard the wince when Daniil rejected him, the faltering of fingers as he gave Daniil space. “Okay,” Artemy said, his voice still hushed. A new heartache for him to deal with, piled on so much. The panacea, Rubin, his father, his brother -

But what of Daniil’s heartache? He’s lost, too; his lab, and all his colleagues. The Bound he couldn’t save. Artemy had become his bright spot, and now... now...

“Idiot.” Daniil turns from him, thumbs digging into his eyes. He wants to push them clear from their sockets. Shove them down his throat and choke on them. “I was such an idiot to trust you.”

“Daniil.” The amount of hurt behind his name makes his pitiful heart contract. It aches for him, to touch him, an impulse he’d never felt before they met. That initial connection, the two parts of a single whole, now violently attempting surgery. “Daniil, that isn’t fair -”

“Don’t.” The storm in his chest is spreading. It’s no longer just his heart in jeopardy, but all of him, ready to combust. “Don��t preach to me about fair. In case you haven’t noticed, nothing about my time here has been fair.”

“It hasn’t been fair for many people.”

Does he not know when to stop? Daniil spins on his heel, trying to ignore how close he is to shattering. “Is that your defense? Life hasn’t been fair to me, might as well drop everything and run for a pretty girl?”

Spit flies from his mouth, but Artemy doesn’t wipe it off. His hurt and guilt have given way to anger, his hands curled to fists. “It wasn’t like that. How could you - how could you even think that?”

“What am I supposed to think?” he snaps. Oh, how he longs to hit something, to fully destroy some unfortunate object with his bare hands. That skull on his desk, perhaps. Mimicking what he’d like to have happen to him. To Artemy. To them both. “You come in here crying over the death of some woman you barely knew, someone who gleefully informed me that my life was over, who you tried to skip town with!”

Daniil turns again, before he can give into the urge to slap his partner. Betrayal causes bile to back up in his throat,

“You wanted to spare the town to save her. Because she hated it, because the Kin were demanding a sacrifice, and it was the Tower or her.” Christ, he wants a cigarette. “Has anything you’ve said been the truth? Or has it all been a means to end for you?”

“It was never -” The frustration rolls off of him in waves. “Daniil, I love you.”

He has to laugh, or an uglier sound will come out. “Love me? You don’t even love those kids.”

“Don’t bring them into this!”

“Why not? You were prepared to abandon them only moments ago!” His thumb finds its way to his mouth, chewing on dead skin. “What did you think? That I would take them in, wait dutifully for you to send word from the Capital that you’d made it safe with your lovely Aglaya?” He tugs on a nail, splintering it. Good. “Sorry for dumping the safety of an entire town on you, Daniil. The safety of an Inquisitor was more important than that cure I promised you. Or the children I took in. Or the people I was meant to lead, the entire civilization waiting for me to take up my father’s position. Or you. Pretty please don’t let the military raze the shithole town I ran away from!”

“That’s enough.” Artemy grabs his shoulder, forcing him back around. “You don’t understand anything about her. Her situation -”

“I don’t care about her situation!” Daniil shouts. “It’s not her I care about!”

Artemy's glower softens, but it doesn’t hit Daniil the way he expects. “What do you want, then?” 

“Are you serious? An apology would be a good start.” His eyes finally make their way back up to Artemy’s, both hesitant. And Daniil chews his cheek again, waiting for a response that comes way too late. The storm inside Daniil is not dead, but abating. By the time Artemy’s lips are parting, Daniil is holding up his hand. “But you can’t. Because you don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“I don’t.”

“Then we’re at an impasse.”

Artemy looks uncomfortable. He swallows, his staring longing and uncomfortable. “So. What do we do?” Daniil waves his hand, flippant. “Daniil, I’m serious. What are we supposed to do?”

“That depends, Artemy. What are your priorities?”

“The town. It’s always been the town.” He takes a step closer, slowly reaching for Daniil’s hands. As much as Daniil wants to pull away, to shatter, to leave him behind, he simply allows Artemy to do what he needs. “That includes the kids. And it includes you.” Artemy’s hands squeeze his own, tight enough to bruise. “I don’t want to lose anyone else, Daniil. Anyone I can save, I will.” He takes a breath, and tries to pull Daniil closer by the hands.

Daniil acquiesces.

“I want you to stay.”

His lips part, ready to inform Artemy that, unlike him, Daniil has no intention of leaving a town that desperately needs his help. Then it occurs to him that Artemy means after, in a world where the Pest has been eradicated. 

Would there be a place for him, then? He envisioned Artemy coming back to the Capital with him, at lest for a while. The children could acclimate, attend the best schools. But could Artemy?

“I know that this hurt you, and I’m sorry. It was never my intention to disrupt what we have.“ Artemy raises Daniil’s hands, kissing his knuckles. The best way he knows to get back in Daniil’s good graces.

The conversation is far from over. But for now, what can Daniil really do?

“Fine,” he mutters. Artemy doesn’t let go of his hands, but pulls him in closer, nestling his face in between Daniil’s neck and his shoulder. “But if you’d really like to make it up to someone, then go check on the children.”

“You pretend to be so cold, but you care about them, too.” Artemy pulls back, but not without offering Daniil a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll return in the morning. And I hope you’ll have gotten sleep.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Daniil grumbles. “What are you waiting for? Get out of my room.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Artemy says. “I love you, too.”

#icarus.txt #never really sure how to end things.... #not totally happy with this but thank u for the practice anon....

[stormysapphic]

hey so where I'm from "fruity" isn't gendered/isn't just a term used to describe men, it's also not really ever used in a bigoted context and has been part of the mainstream queer lexicon for like, decades. Also, imo people are using it in a positive way so it's not derogatory or homophobic. "Gay" isn't a bad word, but it's been used that way in the recent past which is homophobic. The context changes whether what's being said is derogatory or not. I wouldn't even say it's been reclaimed because it's not a slur. Like, I hate stranger things I'm only saying this as a queer fruit who thinks this sort of black and white focus on language is often more harmful than helpful.

I mean all of this gently, hope you have a nice day 💝

i appreciate you reaching out and sharing your opinion in a civil manner! however, to me this ask screams simplistic (perhaps black and white) interpretation and flat out misreading of my original post & a lack of understanding of queer history or the nuance that is needed here.

- what a word means where you're from specifically is not the only indicator of whether it's offensive or not. my native language isn't english, so obviously "fruit" is not even a term that's used where i'm from. that's no excuse for me to use it online in an inconsiderate manner, though.

- i never said "fruit" was a slur. i don't have an opinion on whether it fits that specific description, but it is offensive regardless.

- the origins of the word aren't 100% clear, so don't claim to know what not even linguistic scholars agree upon. and still, whether it comes from "fruitcake" meaning crazy and diseased or from referring to low income street vendors with "immoral qualities", it's 1) meant as derogatory and 2) currently understood to be offensive.

- i can't believe people are still using the "gay is used as an insult too" argument to try and completely brush over the stark differences between words with positive vs negative origins, connotations, and histories.

- again, in this case idk and idc what it means where you're from specifically, but universally it absolutely is overwhelmingly used to refer to men. the widespread use of the word as a quirky catchall lgbt term is a very recent online phenomenon. for sure some circles have always had different interpretations of the term, but here we are talking about being considerate in an online environment in the modern day where a majority of people associate the word with being derogatory and mlm-targeted.

- the connotations of a word depend on the context, yes. i can call my best friend the f slur and he can call me a dyke & it's a jokey bonding thing that comes from love, not hate. but 20somethings on tumblr using the word "fruity" to refer to some tv show characters (none of whom are even mlm) as a funny bit is not the same fucking thing. idc if they think they're using it in a positive way - it's just insensitive.

- idk what about the sentiment "non-mlm shouldn't throw mlm-targeted insults around carelessly" is black and white to you. i'm not even telling off any specific person or trying to completely revoke anyone's right to use the word "fruit", especially as a self descriptor. i think you identifying as a queer fruit is fucking awesome! but if you feel attacked by the aforementioned statement, maybe you're the one that needs to take a step back and consider the nuances of words like this, including the hurtful connotations.

tl;dr: "fruit" is and has always been a predominantly offensive and mlm-targeted word, i'm all for queer evolution, reclaiming our hurt, and intracommunity solidarity/sharing, none of those nuances apply to non-mlm jokingly gunning for "the fruity four" as a go-to fandom term as if it's just another word.

#answered #anonymous

[certifiedskywalker]

Trouble Doubled - Bucky Barnes

Even after everything, you’re still the person who Bucky Barnes runs to when things go bad. Only now, he brings Sam who fails to hide his grin when he sees how James melts under your touch.

WARNINGS: Blood, stitches, and TFATWS possible spoilers (I think I was vague enough)

“Ouch! That’s going to hurt in the morning!”

“Ha, it hurts now, actually,” Sam grumbled. 

You pressed your lips together to stifle the grin that threatened to spill over them. Unable to help yourself, you glanced at Bucky in the hopes he too was biting back a grin. Stood by the door, slightly shrouded in shadow, you could make out the half smile that played on his lips. Though, his expression quickly melted into a grimace as Sam groaned. Reality quickly crashed back down on your shoulders and you turned back to the man laid on the table.

“You’re not going to like this.” Before Sam could ask what ‘this’ was, you began to palpate his wound. He flinched away from your reach at first, but then settled in the discomfort.

“Mm, yeah, no, that doesn’t feel good, Doc.”

“Not a doctor,” you said, still pressing lightly into the bruised flesh. “And I have to make sure you didn’t crack a rib. Otherwise, you’ll need a doctor.”

“Gotta work on your bedside manner,” Sam said as he winced. You pulled your hands away with a sigh and he met your eyes. “Bad?”

“In the grand scheme of things, no. Just try not to throw yourself off a building for the next few days. Think you guys can manage that?”

“Maybe. Harder to fly without jumping first.” Sam groaned once more as he sat up and the pain seemed to convince him to heed your warning. “We’ll try, Doc.”

You rolled your eyes at him before turning to look at Bucky. Still tucked in the darker corner of the room, he seemed small. His brows were knitted tightly together by worry and you imagined that, if he met your gaze, you would see concern in his eyes. Pushed forward by your own worry, you strode over to him. At your growing closeness, Bucky lifted his eyes to yours.

“Your turn.”

“I’m fine, Y/N.”

Despite his protest, Bucky did not lock himself in place. Instead, he gave in and let you lead him by the arm, over to the table. Sam eyed him with a wide grin as Bucky landed in the same spot he had sat in only moments ago. He mouthed something to the century-old soldier that you caught, but could not make out.

“What happened to taking it easy? You told me after, you know, that you would ease into things.” You gestured to the rags you had used to clean Sam’s more minor wounds; the fabric pieces were now dyed a reddish pink from blood. “That doesn’t seem like easing into it.”

“You didn’t see the other guy,” Sam quipped. 

“I like to think you didn’t leave any of him left,” you fired back as you pinched Bucky’s chin between your forefinger and thumb. “Look at me.”

Bucky did as you told him to and met your gaze. You took a sharp breath in at the sight of him, at how his pupils blew out slightly as you studied his reaction. All at once, the air around you grew thick. This close, you could smell the sweat and ash on his skin, along with hints of whatever air freshener he had in his apartment. 

Was it coconut? Sandalwood? You couldn’t parse out which as you found yourself lost in the blues of Bucky’s eyes. The sound of Sam clearing his throat shook you from your haze.

“No signs of a concussion.”

“Really?” Sam asked, grin still plastered on his face. You raised a brow at him in question before you turned back to Bucky. 

“Why? Did you hit your head?”

“No,” he said, clearly tired of Sam’s commentary, “but if I did, it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Super soldier or not, a head wound is a head wound. Can you?” You gestured to his jacket and, with a sigh, Bucky pulled it off his shoulders.

“How do you two know each other again?” Sam asked, glancing around the room. “And why are we in an abandoned building.”

“Hard to trace us back here. Didn’t want to lead them to Y/N’s place,” Bucky said, tossing his jacket to the side. He winced as he did, and then you saw the blood.

“Barnes!" 

With reaching hands, you peeled back the crimson-soaked material of his shirt. Your movement revealed a long gash along his side that, with each breath, sent dribbles of blood to his hip. Sam made a sound of surprise and mild disgust at the sight. You were inclined to agree with another shout, but you were too caught up in how to stop the bleeding.

“Lay back,” you ordered, pressing Bucky’s shoulder. He yielded and you pushed his shirt up to expose the entire length of the wound. “Why didn't you show this to me earlier?!”

“It’s not that bad.”

"You're bleeding," you huffed, "which is pretty indicative of bad, if you ask me. Sam?"

"This is not my battle,” he raised his hands and shook his head. “I know better than to intrude on a lover’s quarrel.”

Neither you nor Bucky spoke up to correct him. In your mind, you came up with a quick excuse: Bucky was bleeding and you needed to focus on stopping it. Sam’s comment could be corrected later. Though, when Bucky didn’t speak up, you felt your chest tighten. As you worked on dressing the gash, you glanced up at him and found his blue eyes trained on you. He was dwelling on your silence too.

You pulled yourself out of the whirlpool of his gaze and reached over his body towards your medical supplies. As you stretched, your chest pressed lightly against Bucky’s, but you swallowed hard and refocused.

“Sorry, need to sow you up.”

Bucky didn’t respond, but he did avert his gaze. He found some spot in the ceiling to stare at instead of you. His distraction allowed you to work without the prickling temptation to sneak glances at his features; for the most part. It was only when Sam moved to stand over at your side you did you look up from Bucky’s wound.

“What?”

“Nothing, just wondering how many times you’ve done this before.” 

A bitter laugh slipped past your lips at his reply. “Too many times to count. If it’s not an Avenger, it’s a masked savior from Hell’s Kitchen. Someone always needs stitched up.”

“But James here is your favorite patient?”

“Sam.” 

Bucky’s tone set you on edge. It was warning, cold, and unlike the teasing you had grown fond of. Sam, knowing better than to piss him off, backed away from the table. You looked from him to Bucky and back again. When Bucky did not dare to meet your gaze, you felt a lump form in your throat. Tension weighed down your tongue, stopped you from saying a word or asking a question, despite your want to. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you be, old man. I’ll check with Torres, see if he has anything.”

Bucky’s eyes remained fixed on the ceiling above you. He was quiet, like the first time you met, and distant. His gaze seemed far away, as if he were looking through the ceiling of this hideaway. After you heard the door of the room close behind Sam, you went back to work on Bucky’s side in silence. 

Carefully, you sowed the gash and tried to keep your hands steady. Every other jab with the needle made Bucky wince. You flinched at his sharp intake of breath and mumbled an apology before you went on to the next stitch. Five apologies later, the bleeding slowed and you gently pressed a crisp, white bandage to safeguard your handiwork. 

Immediately after you secured the gauze, Bucky moved to sit up. Before he could, you pressed on his shoulders again and pinned him in place. Though, you knew you couldn’t have pinned him if he hadn’t let you. Your upper body strength was nothing compared to his, you both knew that.

“Don’t move,” you said softly, “you’ll ruin my work.”

“It’s gonna be hard not to.” Bucky met your gaze and, in the dim light of the room, his eyes looked dark, almost sad. Something in his face, perhaps the dull, yet familiar laughter lines around his mouth or the bags under his eyes, alleviated the tension that had silenced before.

“You told me you wouldn’t. That you would take it easy and focus on making amends.”

Bucky closed his eyes at the disappoint that laced your tone. “I tried. I wanted to, Hell, I need to, but I can’t. I never could.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Bucky began to sit up from the table top, “I’m a soldier. I need the fight.”

You watched as he moved, as your hands slipped from his shoulders and fell back to your sides. He pulled his shirt down over his freshly bandaged wound. When he was covered, Bucky looked back up to you, saw your frown and frowned too.

“Soldiers get to come home,” you pointed out, arms crossed over your chest.

“If they’re lucky. I’ve never been lucky.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at that. He was right. Bucky told you his story once before, after a therapy session left him feeling a bit more dry than high. He told you that he couldn’t tell you everything, that he wouldn’t. He didn’t have to, but you still hoped for him.

“Luck can change.”

Bucky scoffed as he pushed himself to his feet. Now, at his full height, he towered slightly over you. Despite his looming figure, Bucky did not scare you. Even when he told you his story, what he had done, Bucky did not scare you. 

“Yeah, well, luck, or fate, or whatever, brought me to you and here we are,” he gestured to the dusty dwelling around you. You looked around with a careful eye before you playfully shrugged. 

“I’ve been in worse dives.” Bucky chuckled, a unforced sound that rose up from his chest against his will. “Really, I have.”

“I don’t doubt it. But we put you in danger, asking for your help here. I put you in danger.”

“Oh, are you serious?” You threw your hands up in the air, “there’s always going to be danger in this world. Aliens, war, bad luck.”

“I wanted to keep you safe,” he pressed, taking a step towards you. 

You could smell the perfume of the air freshener again, how it clung to his clothes. It distracted you, threw you into thoughts of what his apartment looked like, if he would ever share that part of him with you or if he would keep it locked away with his full story. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from asking, from wasting your breath on a question he wouldn’t answer. His words would have to be enough for you and, as if on cue, Bucky echoed his sentiment. 

“I wanted to keep you safe.”

“How noble, wanting to keep me safe, Barnes. Just me?” 

Silence was your immediate answer. Silence and Bucky’s full attention. You didn’t miss how his eyes flickered down from yours to your lips then back again.

“Just you.”

In the quiet that followed Bucky’s statement, you became frighteningly aware of your heartbeat again. It wasn’t pounding like before, but it felt loud, like it was pressing against your ribcage, begging to leap out and into Bucky’s arms. As if propelled by it, you found yourself leaning in towards his warmth just as he seemed to shrink away.

Before he was out of reach, you lifted your hands to his face and cupped his jaw. Stubble prickled your fingers and palm, though you were far too enraptured to care.

“Then stay alive,” you said softly, “change your luck and come home.”

In your mind, you did not picture Bucky’s home as his mystery apartment. Instead, you saw only this moment captured by some invisible third party. You saw home as just the two of you and the image made you heart beat a bit faster. 

“I’ll try.”

“Good.” 

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, stewed in the new, easier tension between you. But then your resolve broke and you lips broke into a smile. Bucky mirrored your expression, a lopsided grin resting comfortably along his features. His eyes fell to the floor between you before he looked back into your face.

“Can...can I kiss y-”

“Yes, Barnes, please.”

Without wasting another second, Bucky leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. Your hands slipped from his jaw to the back of his head where your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his brown hair. One of his hands found your waist and pulled you close to him, while the other cupped your jaw. In sync, his mouth moved against yours and everything around you melted away.

No more wonderings or mystery. It was only you and Bucky, come danger, trouble, or bad luck; and Sam who lingered outside the door.

#the falcon and the snowman #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #the winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #james barnes x reader #james barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky fanfiction #bucky imagines #bucky imagine #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #mcu fanfiction

[acaiasahi]

✶ i like you but i'm a little chai ; kim junkyu.

synopsis. small little puns slowly start making an appearance on your cup as you start to visit a nearby café more frequently. who could blame you though? the designs on your chai lattes were so cute... but the boy making them was even cuter.

info. fluff. barista!kim junkyu x gn!reader. 1.4k+ words.

warnings. corny puns, grammatical and structural errors, not proofread!!! lowercase intented :P

finishing up your daily morning routine, you head over to your closet to pick out an outfit. going with what you usually wear everyday, you throw your clothes on, slip your shoes on, grab your bag, and keys. soon leaving the house in record time.

contemplating whether you should drive or walk today, you choose the latter, making your way to your new favorite spot, treasure café. not to get into it but you've tried many different chais in your life but you've got to say that this one is your absolute favorite!

the chais you've had in the past have always been too watery, too milky, not enough spice, too little spice, they never seem to satisfy you. one day, you stumble upon the new café near your home.

though being let down in the past, you wondered what could go wrong. giving it a try, you quite literally started jumping off the walls because of delicious this tea was. maybe you were delusional, going crazy perhaps, but maybe you found the most perfect drink that you've been craving for.

speak of the devil, you made your way into the store, the small jingle of the bell indicating to the workers that there's a customer. looking towards the counter, a head pops out from the back.

soon putting a name to the face, you soon realize that it's hyunsuk. "oh, hi y/n! how's your morning going?" he asks with a bright smile, making his way to the register. "it's definitely been... a morning!" you say lightheartedly, watching hyunsuk throw his head back and laugh.

"yeah, you could definitely say that!" he says, tapping on the tablet, already getting your order ready. "the regular?" he asks, you nod, small smile present. "can you also add a croissant while you're at it?" you ask sweetly, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

he nods meekly, continuing to tap on the tablet. "alright then, your total's $10.50" hyunsuk says as he turns the tablet to you. you pay quickly, leaving him a 25% tip, "and that's for being the best!" you tell him. he nods his head, shrugging his shoulders, "you don't have to tell me twice! your order'll be done soon." he finishes.

walking over to the booth near the window, you set your bag down and bring out your essentials to study. opening your computer, you quickly start on your work, typing away until you hear your name and order being called out.

you quickly get up, grabbing your drink and food, making your way back to the booth. setting the drink down, you notice a little drawing on the sleeve. slowly turning the cup, you see another note written on it. "i wonder what it is today" you mutter to yourself.

"y/n! i like you a lot, but i'm a little chai T^T" it says with a little drawing of a... tooth looking character? you're not sure what it is but you still find it just as cute. a slight blush forms on your face, a smile making it's way to your lips, and a giggle bubbling from your chest.

shaking your head, you go back to your work, completely oblivious to someone staring at you. that certain someone being junkyu.

you guys actually met in treasure café, he's the first person who took your order. he thought you were the sweetest person ever, almost angelic as you smiled while ordering.

as of recent, he's gotten the courage to write little notes on your coffee cup to show you how he feels. in simple words... he was too shy to say anything straight to your beautiful face. so he settles for writing corny puns and watching a smile blossom on your face from afar.

hyunsuk sees the whole ordeal go down, always encouraging junkyu to say something to you. to not be afraid because as hyunsuk always says "you never know until you try!"

a couple hours pass by and your workload slowly begins to dwindle down to one assignment. your tea and croissant has long been finished and you take it as your cue to head home.

you slowly begin packing your things, about to throw away your trash but soon remembered to take a picture of the small note on the cup. it's become a small thing that you look forward doing before leaving the café.

once you're done snapping a quick picture, you make your way out of the small building, bidding a quick goodbye to hyunsuk. before you could fully walk out of the door, someone calls for your name.

you quickly look over your shoulder, assuming it's hyunsuk but are surprised to see junkyu jogging up to you. "hey, i just got off work, mind if i walk with you?" you tilt your head in confusion but still agreeing.

"sorry, i know this is random, i just..." he trailed off, he pulls his sweater over his hands, "i just wanted to talk to you!" he says, shyly smiling at you. you laugh light heartedly, nodding at him.

"wanted to talk about anything in particular?" you asked, curiosity getting the best of you. he nodded meekly, looking everywhere but your face, too afraid to look at your reactions.

though the previous playful energy, it seemed to shift to something more intimate, almost soft. the silence is comfortable but at the same time, you're both waiting for junkyu to say something.

he's honestly not sure how to bring up the fact that he's had a crush on you for months now and that he's the one behind the little notes on your cup. i mean how could you even put that into words? let alone bring it up casually.

in the back of junkyu's mind, he hears hyunsuk's words ringing through his ears like a mantra. you never know until you try. he lets out a deep breath, stopping in his tracks.

you follow his lead, turning around to see him face to face. he smiles awkwardly at you, one of those half smiles that he somehow pulls off. you return the smile and miss the way his neck get dusted with a light pink.

"you good, kyu? you're starting to scare me." you say jokingly, waving a hand in his face, seeming as if he was in a daze just looking at you.

he shakes himself off, not knowing where to start. he tries to gather all the words he wants to say and it's at the tip of his tongue... but all he lets out is "note. cup." before he lets out an airy laugh.

you cock an eyebrow, extremely confused. were you supposed to get what he was saying? man, those were two words. your question soon got answered when he cut off your train of thought.

"you don't even know what i'm saying, oh gosh!" he whines. "try to explain it to me," you reason with him as he closes his eyes in embarrassment. "maybe i'll know what you're talking about, just... elaborate" you say, patting his shoulder.

he nods, now trying his hardest to tell you his secret. "you know those notes you get on your cups? like... with the little drawings?" he asks, making you nod slowly. how did he know? is it him? you ask yourself.

almost as if he read your mind, he quickly continues before is chance is gone. "it's me, i'm the one who's been writing them and the drawing and honestly i've had a crush on you for awhile but i never really knew how to tell you and so my other coworker was telling me to write things on your coffee cup and i was like 'wow junkyu that's a good idea, it seems they like it, let's continue that' but then i kept doing it for months and i got scared that you wouldn't like me back so i just didn't say anything until no-"

you cut him off with a quick peck to his cheek. "junkyu! shut up. i had a hunch it was you." you say with a dopey smile and his eyes go wide. "what?!" he yells, making you jump.

"i didn't know if i was right but just to confirm it, i like you too. a lot!" you say shyly. junkyu gasps dramatically, pulling you into a tight hug and rocking back and forth. he soon picks you up and spins you around. you're both laughing like crazy when he finally sets you down.

he looks at you adoringly, before opening his mouth, "so... how about a date?"

[ 🎧 ] jaydi's notes. sorry... not to be corny but i love puns for my titles now LMFAO also... shy barista!junkyu... literally the man of my dreams idc idc argue w the wall!!!!! i hope u like this, it's not the best but i've been spoiling yall w 2 fics today LOLLL i love it tho, pls keep requesting!!!! <3333

© ACAIASAHI 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. COPYING, TRANSLATING, AND REPOSTING IS PROHIBITED.

#acaiasahi #jikjihoon #treasure #treasure imagines #treasure blurbs #treasure fluff #kim junkyu #kim junkyu imagines #kim junkyu blurbs #kim junkyu fluff #junkyu imagines #junkyu blurbs #junkyu fluff #i like you but i'm a little chai #requested #h4chi

[butgilinsky]

if i'm smiling it's because of you // gw

warning; nothing but fluff

summary; George does something special for her favorite holiday.

word count; 1.8k+

just a little halloween george x f!reader to get you through the day(:

To him, she was the sun. She was the light that peaked through his curtains in the morning and the steam that rolled off the top of his first cup of coffee. Any room that she walked into suddenly felt brighter and warmer to him, almost as if he could sense her presence from a mile away without even trying. He could pick her out of a crowd despite her not being the tallest at school, and he knew the route she took to her morning potions class.

At the end of a terribly long day with two tests when there was nothing else he wanted to do but sleep the day off, all it took was one smile from her and his worries were washed away. Maybe she wasn’t the best at telling jokes and perhaps he didn’t love the many books she constantly had her nose stuck in when he’d find her after class, but he loved her. He loved her more than anyone he’d ever heard or read about, even more than the pesky couple she dragged on and on about from her romance novels. He loved her for her, and he’d do anything to prove it to her.

Unfortunately for the young lad, he’d never found his voice to speak up about such feelings. He found it quite difficult of a task when he almost never had her alone for more than ten minutes at a time, along with her terribly adorable oblivion. It was just one more thing he found endearing about her.

There wasn’t a clear moment as to when he fell in love. It wasn’t like the world tilted on its axis and shook him to his core. It was gradual over the years, almost like a child tiptoeing into the kitchen for a late night snack. It wasn’t even truly apparent to him that he did love her until he found himself hunched over a bin and digging through it to find her favorite pen he’d accidentally thrown away. Even after she’d begged him not to, insisting she’d go pick up another one in hogsmeade, he found it impossible not to look for the damned thing. If her wide eyes filled with shock were any indication of how she felt, he’d dig through that bin until he was waist deep in it if that’s what it took. He was hopelessly in love, and she had no idea.

It’s possible, he thought to himself on more occasions than not, that she’s blind to his devotion for her merely out of disinterest for the boy himself. He’d convinced himself that she was ignorant to his feelings because she had none of her own; an unrequited love. That however, was not the case.

Her heart fluttered so fondly for him she could hardly feel it some days. When her sinuses were clogged and she felt like the epitome of horror, he was there to hand her tissues and help nurse her back to health. She found herself covered in his sweater on the coldest of nights, hidden beneath her duvet while she traced her fingers over the last note he left for her. The gaps in her lessons that went by undocumented in her notebook were at the hands of her relentless daydreaming of the lanky boy. He stood tall above the other students and caught her eye in any crowd, though it didn’t help that he wasn’t the least bit shy and called out for her at any given opportunity. Not a day went by where she didn’t dream of a life where George Weasley was hers to hold for all of eternity.

Despite her feelings that had been brewing since her first year at the boarding school, she’d never tell a soul. She promised herself she’d never share her devotion to anyone in order to protect her heart. It had been broken too many times for such a young girl to handle, and she was certain she’d hold out for a few more years before accepting that fate once again. So she lived her life with an ache in her chest, her heart beating relentlessly for her best friend.

It was while George was ripping up a piece of orange paper that Fred walked into their dorm, wasting no time at all before throwing out the obvious.

“You’re infatuated.” George merely rolled his eyes at the words looming over his head. So what if he had spent two hours on a simple card? So what if halloween wasn’t normally a holiday that insisted cards be exchanged amongst peers? He couldn’t care less about what the norm was; all he wanted was to see his favorite girl shine her brightest smile at him first thing in the morning. “It’s late Georgie.”

“It's not even midnight.” The boy called over his shoulder, missing the smug smirk that made its way up his brother’s lips. He didn’t think it was late, he had just wanted to poke and prod at his brother every chance he got.

“You know, gifts aren’t usually a halloween tradition.” This time George said nothing in return, he just grabbed the nearest wad of paper and threw it at his twin with surprising precision. “Cmon Georgie, what are you going to do? Stuff her stocking with halloween sweets and take her trick or treating after she’s emptied it?” This had the reaction he had been hoping for, the one that got his foot bouncing in excitement once he saw his brother’s face twist in annoyance.

“No, why would you even suggest that?” And with a sarcastic comment jumping on the top of his tongue, Fred swallowed any comeback he had in mind when his eyes landed on the chain hanging off of George’s desk lamp.

It was a thin, silver chain with a pendant resting at the bottom, something that Fred had to take several steps towards the desk in order to make out. An oval with a black cat in the center surrounded by intricate detailing stared back at the red haired boy. It was then that Fred decided his brother could not be more in love. He was past the giddy crush he had when they were boys, past the awkward stage of being embarrassed when his voice cracked in front of her or if he’d put his shirt on inside out. George was now staying up late to work on a card for a holiday that didn’t even require them, after he’d put together a necklace that both boys knew would make the girl’s heart soar.

“All of this for halloween?” Fred knew why tonight was the night for George to throw himself into the projects but he couldn’t stop his lips from moving.

“It’s her favorite holiday.” It was such an immediate response, so soft and so casual like it had been a run of the mill task for George. It was as if he’d done the same thing every year for his entire life; like a routine that hasn’t changed in ages, and it was all for her.

Bright and early into the morning, George set off to meet her under her favorite tree, in which he could already see her nestled underneath with a new book in her lap. Her eyes found his like they’d sensed them coming, and a great big smile stretched itself across her lips at the boy’s arrival.

“Good morning George.” he hummed to her in response, a fond smile draping itself across his lips as if he hadn’t even noticed.

“Good morning, love. Happy halloween.” It was then that she closed her book and sat up straight, completely enthralled by her friend’s memory of her favorite holiday. “I brought you something.”

“George I told you-“

“Nonsense.” he waved her off so easily, as though he had predicted her refusal (which he had) before sitting down right beside her.

It only took him a moment to pull her gifts out of his bag and one by one, handed her the card and then the necklace. The thin piece of metal elicited a sharp gasp from the back of the girl’s throat as she sprung forward to investigate it. The cat had looked just like her childhood cat she lost the year earlier, and even moved around in the same fashion hers had. It was when the animated cat laid down and exposed its belly that the girl found tears in her eyes and a hand clasped over her mouth.

“George,” she whispered softly, though no words followed. All she could do was lay her head on his shoulder and squeeze his hand in hers while she mourned her lost kitten.

She was thankful when he changed the subject to asking about her plans for the day. She was even more delighted to receive an invitation to hogsmeade where she would buy too many sweets and justify it by using the “sugary holiday” as she loved to call it.

It was when she stuffed her third fizzing candy into her mouth when he sent her a smile she couldn’t ignore. The fluttering in her chest never ceased, not even when he tripped over a mound of snow and nearly face planted in front of her. She fought the urge to reach out for his hand, though she must have been staring at it because he soon took hers into his own and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“You look so happy.” he whispered more to himself than to her, but it fell upon her ears all the same.

“You make me happy.” it made his heart race in a way he would’ve deemed dangerous had she not been looking up at him like he hung the moon with his bare hands. “You always make me happy.” this time her voice was hushed, as if she hadn’t meant to let that fact slip.

“That’s all i’ve ever wanted to do.” he’s not sure where he mustered the courage to grab her face in his hands, to hold her so gently while caressing her cheeks with his thumb. She wasn’t sure where she got the courage to push herself into her toes but before they both knew it, the best friends had their lips locked within one another’s.

It was sweet and gentle, and she tasted like fizzing candies. It was relaxed and slow enough for both of them to take their time pulling away. George had sworn his heart melted in his chest when he opened his eyes to see hers still closed as if she’d been in a trance.

“Best holiday ever.” This brought a bubbling laugh from the boy, quickly followed by a bright smile from the girl herself before pressing her hands to his chest and pushing her lips back into his.

“Best holiday, indeed.” came his reply.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #the weasley twins #hp #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #weasley twins fic #george weasley fluff