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liveyun · 6 months

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𝐀 𝐏 𝐑 𝐈 𝐂 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 — 𝟏

banner by @itaeewon 🌹

pairing. min yoongi x female reader (oc)

genre. arranged marriage au, angst, fluff, eventual smut

w. mention of parent death,overthinking ; anxiety, smoking, yoongi falls sick; he's confused; fluff?

wc. 10k 🤕

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The voices in his head refuse to shut up.

He's driving back home, but his wish to lie in bed has long faded. A bitter taste lies on his tongue for now, constantly feeling the bile rise up to his throat and making him want to puke out.

The wind flushing against his skin is freezing cold; but he doesn't think of the cold or the autumn wind now. Neither the smell of stir fried Kimchi nor the smell of fried chicken or the snacks and meals, for he's passing through the streets of Seoul right now, a starless, dark night.

But the smell of fried Kimchi pancakes seems to have paused his flurry of thoughts, if anything, the smell: the smell itself provides a small comfort to him. If it would've been some other day, he thinks, Jeongguk might've dragged him here and made him eat till they belched and slept with full, happy stomachs. It wasn't often that he used to visit the streets or pass by them; and neither was it often when he used to eat out. But if by any chance it'd be an outing, or a random pass-by the streets, with Jeongguk , he'd know that he's not gonna return home with an empty stomach.

That kid had a bottomless appetite and seeing how enthusiastic he was about his food made Yoongi feel full.

Yeah, he was invited to dinner meetings all the time, but the familiarity of a homely place like such where one didn't have to pretend, to be prideful or maintain fine airs about them, or couldn't burp or sigh at the taste of the delicious food, was not it. Or could wipe your runny nose at the spicy seasoning floating through your taste buds. Something as mundane as chewing felt like a sin in such places.

They're meant to be just for business. Nothing else.

But here, you can curse and swear with soju running raw in your blood, enjoy the local cuisine market on screen with elderly uncles; letting yourself free without any worries for tomorrow. A place where you weren't monitored all the time; or were expected to behave; a place like such, Yoongi realized, he cannot recall if he had recently visited.

A very strange sense of nostalgia washes over him.

A very weird one. He didn't know if such nostalgia was supposed to feel this intense, not when he has memories floating in front of his eyes.

He almost feels like he's seeing everything in front of him. He doesn't realize his pupils are shaking wildly because it's all the memories which are flooding in his system, the memories which he has already buried within the cobwebs of a dungeon in his heart and never wants to pull them out. His throat feels dry, and even a huge gulp of saliva doesn't help.

It's funny how tight situations can have variations too.

He feels the taste fresh in his mind, his mouth. The taste of flesh against his own mouth, rough and inexperienced, hot and needy. So hot, so raw, the breath and the bitterness of coffee his own tastebuds tasted as his warm muscle sneaked into the cavern, wet and warm, full of smokey eagerness: he had wished the night never to stop.

He did not want the night to break to dawn.

His first kiss.

Funny, because the younger him had drowned in the feeling, and the feelings, the raw actions were seemingly reciprocated with such urgency, that his own hands were restless, roaming all over where they could reach the soft, warm flesh,and how he wanted that time never to end. His veins were caught in a fire he burnt himself in, a burn which has left scars forever in their wake.

Once started, everything has its end destined in the pathway.

Daegu. A similar, very similar fast food street. In between the dark, damp walls where the rotten leftovers were left to the scavengers,were possibly dumped, the smell so pungent and foul, a place so dimly lit, but the flames inside his heart were bright enough to burn the whole place.

He hadn't thought of how terrible the place was, or how it grossed him out now. The memory of the place is hazy, just as fragments of burnt paper, but the feelings still coursed through his veins like hot iron. And so the blurred lights of the stalls merge with his sight now to his memory, and suddenly, it stops.

The nostalgia felt like the dust flying in a hot summer noon, like the loo, which everyone tries to avoid.

And the tightness in his chest isn't nearly as tight as it used to be all the times the memories flooded him.

He doesn't really like nostalgia. It is a feeling which always hangs within your memories, a strange emotion which always leaves a trail of melancholy behind it, no matter how good the nostalgia might feel to be. No: there's always a feeling, ratther, a question in your mind about what if. A desire to live a life based on the past, totally ignoring how good your present can be.

Humans are never really happy with whatever they own, because suddenly they know the worth after it's already too late. You can only mourn.

But not anymore, though.

" Yoongi? "

Broken from his trance, Yoongi looks to the source of the voice. Even before looking at the person he knows it's him through the smooth, steady voice. An unfairly proportioned, carved-by-the-god-who-took-her-time face, with curious, bright almond eyes almost covered with black, fluffy tresses of hair greets him.

Ah, yes, he has to crane his neck up to look at the man.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, his senior, and one of his bestest business partners one can ever wish for. A friend he always looked up at. (quite literally?) The CEO of Kim Corp., Seokjin might be a man better visioned, more experienced, more thorough, and even more free-minded than Yoongi is, with a sense of humor enough to make you wheeze till tears on a gloomy day, or even annoy you at your best. An unfairly handsome man who seemed to age backwards and maybe could accidentally be casted to any movie and you won't even catch him slip.

One of the bestest friends you could ask for.

Yoongi found himself smiling at him more widely than he was used to.

"Hyung. "

The older man's eyebrows shoot up at the sky. Sure, he has seen Yoongi smile, or try his hardest to feign to do so too, but oh boy. You don't see Min Yoongi grinning at you often, for why the grin seems a bit too genuine ( mind you, he was more than happy to see him smiling like that. A smile which he feels can brighten up anyone's day.) : a smile which somehow made the cheese tteokbokki resting in his tummy dance, but well...

For now, all he does is offer the plate of cheese corn dog, piping hot towards the grinning man, silently urging him to take one.

“I'm sure my eyes don't spread misinformation, but is this really Min Yoongi whom I'm seeing here at this street, standing here, letting the world look for free?”

"I definitely cannot tell you about your eyes, if you offer your corn dogs to every stranger you meet on the street...so I can't really tell if it's anything to you, though. ''

Yoongi shrugs, and Seokjin rolls his eyes, wrapping his free arm around Yoongi's smaller figure with a snort, leading him to the stalls nearby, but not before flooding him with a river of questions to Yoongi who occasionally answers one or two.

“Jokes aside, I can tell you have a lot to tell me. Hey, don't gimme that weird stare: that works only with your officials. Tell me more, and all that can happen above a nice platter of crispy fresh kimchijeon, ha, the aroma!”

And Yoongi had no chance but to comply. Above all, he was thankful to have such a jouvial company at such a night.

“You gotta be shitting my dick.”

Seokjin audibly chokes on the bite of his crispy pancake, and with a muffled cough, looks up at Yoongi. He again has one of his expressionless façade on his face, and Seokjin just maybe needs some time to process the why's and how's of questions popping in his head.

“I'd rather prefer a toilet.”

Yoongi says that almost nonchalantly, as if he's discussing how hot Seoul is. Unbelievable, but so Yoongi of him, he thinks. He shallows down his food, and presses his lips to a straight line, which screams that if you don't tell me right now...

and Yoongi knew that look way too well.

But however, again it surprises Yoongi himself again as all that he does is to shrug with a smug face and the man opposite him visibly frowns with his jaw open.

" Yoongi, my dude, you're getting married. You're getting married ! That too, all of a sudd— ”

Seokjin puts down his chopsticks to the plate, shaking his head as he gulps his food down. Shit, he was nearly choking on his rice..

“You- you're on the top among the powerful bachelors of South Korea, " Seokjin emphasizes with a click to his chopsticks, pointing it towards the man in the question.

“The last time I was told the stats, a certain Kim Seokjin was on the top, actually..”

Yoongi shrugs again, raising his brows with a playful smirk which only infuriates the man opposite to him. With the same energy, Yoongi clicks the chopsticks back, making a small circle in the air with the edge.

“It's you, actually..”

"Hey, that's not at all what I meant! "

Seokjin’s voice is full of excitement, pitched to the extent that Yoongi slightly flinches at the intensity. It's high enough for the customers beside their tables to peer curiously at them, some frowning or some chuckling. Seokjin visibly flushes, and Yoongi has his lips pressed to a thin line now. He's trying his hardest not to cackle, and the older man looks like he's trying to spot a place to bury his grave and sink in.

Seokjin quickly snatches away a napkin to divert the attention, clearing his throat and wiping his grease smeared mouth with the napkin.

And then, with a far more hushed tone, he continues.

"Wanting to know about your tea was a bluff bro, a bluff ! It's not often I see you in a casual sweatshirt and jeans. It's not often I see Min Yoongi in front of me snacking on Yachaejeon like the good ol times. I just wanted you to eat.

To spend time with me. To gain some weight because you're skinny. Because you don't eat. I just thought we'd be either heading home sober, catching up with what we've left behind or get wasted on a bar stall later at night, but you dropping a bomb like that wasn't it!"

“You're not calling my marriage 'your tea', are you, hyung?”

Yoongi's eyes are now narrowed to slits, almost like a cat’s when he's about to pounce on you, throwing daggers to Seokjin's way, who just nervously laughs, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

"Definitely not, my dongsaeng, haha.. All what I was saying......is, that if it hadn't been our fateful meeting, would I have ever even known about this te— errr, your marriage? "

Yoongi shugs again.

"Don't think so. Word spreads fast. Mr. Kim hangs out often with the old man, so even if not, I was sure to be expecting your cheeky ass at my wedding, though. "

Yoonngi casually takes a sip of his soda, swirling the can in his hands to fizz it up, but soon realizes it has been a grave mistake to have said this to Seokjin who looks so shocked, almost to the point he sees his large, curious eyes glossy with fake emotion.

"This just proved you don't care about your hyung anymore."

Seokjin croaks, wiping the non existent tears from his cheeks. He almost looks like a dejected hamster, Yoongi thinks, but keeps that to himself. Yoongi is about to respond, when Seokjin suddenly scoots closer to him, and almost squeaks. He was almost lured to think that Seokjin was offended, but the mischievous glint in his eyes tell otherwise.

"Tell me, have you seen them already or not? Or shared a text? "

"I met her in person today itself, some few hours ago. I kid you not, hyung, don't- don't stare at me like that,” he quickly retorts as he sees how Seokjin's eyes widen comically, a thick eyebrow arching, “Your eyes shall pop out of your sockets if you do so. "

But just as soon, Yoongi watches his expressions go devoid of any amusement, exactly as he sees him during the office hours. Like the CEO Kim everyone knows and shits in fear, too.

Still not as serious as that, because the glint still sparkles in his eyes and food is stuffed in mouth, making his cheeks squish out as he chews noisily.

" Tell me, what is she like? "

RECEIVED : 8:20 AM

seokjin hyung : Another day, another slay 🔥

wake up lazy cat

bruh

…

RECEIVED : 8:35 AM

hey plz check i sent some money to u. get some food ur skinny

SEEN 8:35 AM

me : it's not there

RECEIVED 8:40 AM

seokjin hyung : HA

HELL OF A MEAN GUY YOU'D CHECK ONLY FOR MONEY! 💔

SEEN 8:45 AM

me : i’m a businessman for a reason.

RECEIVED 8:45 AM

seokjin hyung : rude (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

SEEN 8:58 AM

me : 👍

RECEIVED 8:58 AM

seokjin hyung : i hope u haven't forgotten abt our deal

SEEN 9:20 AM

RECEIVED 9:20 AM

seokjin hyung : what.

DELIVERED 10:00 AM

me : o yea i forgo

Yoongi makes a small tsk as his fingers accidentally tap on the send option, without him getting the chance to type the last "t".

And it somehow surprises him, because Seokjin, who replies within seconds, hasn't responded back, yet, and already two minutes have passed.. suddenly, a ping makes him look back to his screen and surprisingly the sound came from the talkie on his desk , now ringing continuously.

He receives the call, and is greeted by the crisp voice of his secretary. However, he's quick to recognise the distaste in his voice, too. But he doesn't press on it, because as far his voice is normally just as professional as he usually maintains, and is good at it. His voice is crisp, but Yoongi can read the irritation well-hidden behind it.

" Good morning, Mr. Min. May I let you know your schedule for today?”

“Well, Jeon, I suppose you know better?"

With a quick hum, Yoongi now sees the tabulated form of his schedule on his laptop screen. Cool, just as he thought it would be.

Another meeting with the designer group Jung's for the winter fashion week collaboration, which should end by almost 11:45, or max 12.

Okay. One excursion to the base point of d-7 duplex. Should stretch till 12:30, alright, another visit to the sketching department to see the collaboration work in progress, and the estimated time for visual sketches is done already? Impressive. Reviewing these would take his most time, as he is supposed to be commenting on them all before the designs are confirmed for the higher base project.

Maybe that's one of his favorite things to do, because he loves to see the raw skills float in front of him, the passion in their explanations, such young aspiring artists blooming with their artwork, and the creativity in their visualization of the ideas he could only admire as outfits.

He's glad to have such skilled visual artists as the roots of d-7,which he hopes he can express his gratitude once apart from a way other than just paying them wages..

Visual designing may seem easy, but there's really nothing in this world called easy.

Visual des-

“after years of applying and getting rejected, it was the last chance for me to be finally a visual designer for Valentino,which despite having many limitations,is the star of my dreams; only if I could attend the event at Singapore past this month, which on my presence, would approve me for so in the last streak. But past this month....”

His mind wanders back to your sweet face. That was random. The sadness and the helplessness laced within your voice made him close his eyes, and just again, he feels as if he's back to yesterday on the balcony at the Park's, with you standing beside him...

“That chick would be lured in here to design for us, without any further queries. "

The sudden, bitter voice makes him snap his eyes open, focusing back to the screen. He couldn't just..

What's this?

13:00

Lunch with Mr. Old Min.

His first instinct is to call Jeongguk right away, and ask whatever the fuck is this.

Does that old bastard think that any circumstance like this would make him desirable enough to be seen daily? He can barely stand him for a few minutes, now, for lunch? It's not like he actually has ever maintained the ‘ideal’ father status ever even now or back when Yoongi was a kid.

Ha.

And for what, prey? If it's about any bullshit he spoke about yesterday, he wasn't sure if he could bear it anymore.

Yoongi wasn't sure if his suspicions were actually correct as he feels like a man like him would have nothing to talk about but that, about how this marriage is a step towards his son's future, but he knows better.

It's all business to the old man.

He rubs his eyes, dejectedly. This is just the beginning of the day, and woah, what a start.

Well, he had no other options but just so exhale and say fuck it all, and start the day.

No matter how hard he tries to ignore the shrill, annoying voice of the lady in charge presenting the presentation, a draft of the outfits designed inspired by the renaissance, he cannot help it. He doesn't even know how and why are the sparkling elements added to the outfits relevant to the era where everything designed was a result of prolonged, deep thinking. When people were evolving.

Elegance and sophistication were a close observation, but chic was not the style how Renaissance was based on. And this lady is trying her best to explain otherwise, saying that maybe these are inspired but they as well should have the cliche of the 21st century as well, as Yoongi thinks that it's not at all a good idea.

Blending trends with the original idea might not be the best out there, especially when it feels like the outfit design looks rather frumpish.

The lady in charge is simply groveling to win hearts but by the bored looks, Yoongi knows that many are thinking similar to what he is. Yoongi was rather impressed at how fast the design was finished earlier in the day, but now he feels that maybe it was all in vain. There's a small spark of hope inside him which says that maybe the other team has a better idea than this, and let time be no further wasted in this experiment.

It could've been, only if the theme was different.

He tries to keep a straight face, maintaining his professionalism with a rigid posture. A quick peek all over the conference room convinces him just exactly that his thoughts match with everyone else in this room, especially the head of the illustration team, whom he's acquainted with. Jung Hoseok. Everyone else in this room is at least trying to suffice the bland explanations, but he's not at all even trying. He looks pissed, his eyes shooting such criminal offensive side eye glances that Yoongi almost wishes to laugh, but he knows better.

A glance to Jeongguk, and he sees the poor kid struggle to keep himself from frowning, hard. Jeongguk is one of the most creative people he has ever seen, and he often wonders why he is not putting his skills at the right place, rather than having a major in business and being in that field.

To be the jack of all trades is hard, but Jeongguk excels them all.

Besides, most of today's schedules were totally messed up, and the meetings one after one were delayed for one reason or another. It's nearly 12:30, he notices by the giant wall clock above the whiteboard. The toe of his left shoe taps slightly to the floor with a rhythm, getting roasted second by second by the never ending speech.

He only wishes if the main points were jotted down here..

“Painters like Michelangelo, made it clear with the carving of—”

“ It would be much appreciated if the real point is explained, rather than just beating around the bush, Miss Choi. Irrelevance is highly avoided. ”

Hoseok’s raspy voice takes over the shrill voice of the lady who visibly is embarrassed, too flustered to gather the correct words to speak. Yoongi is somewhat thankful that someone finally spoke up, but he feels a tad bit bad for the girl : her idea was nice, and rather creative, just not fitting the winter nor the theme actually fit for the week or the topic. Or is it actually the nervousness which seems to creep out from her to him making him feel bad for her, because a few moments ago, Yoongi himself was close to losing it all.

His words have her fumbling with her files, something Yoongi knows is because of fear.

His gaze meets her nervous ones right to the opposite end of the table, and he sees defeat in them right in the moment he sees the pupils shake. He's been in this field for way too long to understand that helplessness, that dejection.

He sees her step back with a bow, mumbling something which he couldn't hear. She nods lightly, and sweeps back to her destined place.

Yoongi silently wishes if she could fight back for herself. If she could point out the valid information, but seems like she wasn't prepared for that. She wasn't prepared to be interrupted, too.

And so it's not really surprising when he notices the whole conference room having a thick air of tension and Yoongi does not have to assume anything. The members of the Illustration team are visibly intimidated by their head, who's now tonguing the inside of his cheeks, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration.

Yoongi knows that the prompt response has been shit from his side— he doesn't even know who's to blame now.

Maybe he needs to speak up.

“Rather strange for the total prompt, but overall, better than what has been used for add ons, ” Yoongi begins, attracting the attention of the whole team, and everyone present seems to be a bit more attentive, a bit better with their posture, including Hoseok as well, whose eyes are on him.

All eyes are on him.

Normally, or even in a parallel universe, or him some ten years ago would've freaked out, fidgeted, squirmed on his seat- but now he barely feels the effect on him. It's all a daily basis thing, all calculating eyes on you and all what you're left behind is to just think, think and think about what meaning they could possibly hold behind them. Nervousness and fear flooding in your veins you're left with sweaty palms and a quivering mind, but for Yoongi, he was used to it all.

He does not care now.

“ Mr. Min, I think better— ”

Hoseok begins but Yoongi knows what he's about to speak on. He wishes the prompt to be given to Yoongi’s department. Yoongi wishes otherwise, because just because of a mismatch of prompts, he doesn't want any more dilemma to choose— the Jung team is overall flooded with skill, and he wishes them to bloom; he knows that this batch was particularly picked for the newcomers who are freshly picked from the team of art and management resources. D-7 are a group of professionals, but Jung Team are known to be ametures.

He scrolls mindlessly through the internet, but maybe not too mindlessly.

And so he raises a palm to stop the younger man speaking, and thinks it is rather bold of him to quirk a brow in return. Well yes, maybe he wasn't used to being questioned after that, so. Maybe he wasn't used to it all.

“ I think a few modifications need to be done at some point, otherwise it's all good. ”

He sees Hoseok's jaw drop slightly. He sees all the other members present in the room having their eyes widened, including the girl who was just presenting— What did they expect? Yoongi watched the gears in their brain work quickly, and by the time Yoongi spun the paperweight in his fingers, he blinked at Jeongguk, and the younger quickly took the initiative.

Funny, he thinks, because never in these ten years had Yoongi ever been so in place with an assistant, and it has been seven years since Jeongguk has been his assistant. Never had he ever talked about how a blink, not even a nod could signal him to do the deed of ending for the day.

Well, Jeongguk knows him just as he knows Jeongguk, he thinks. Maybe, maybe it's not vice versa to this point.

Subconsciously, his lips quirk upwards at the sight of the younger getting up, fixing his coat.

“ I think we should wrap up for the day, everyone. ”

His voice, professional as ever, echoes in the room and suddenly everyone's business like manners breaks, relaxing in their seats. Yoongi too, let out a breath he didn't know he was holding onto.

Jeongguk’s round eyes meet his own, and Yoongi nods, slowly watching the members leave one by one, a small hum of conversation peeking in between them all. It's rather comfortable , he thinks. Yoongi relaxes back in his seat, loosening up his tie knowing well that his schedule for the day has ended. Well, not really—

“ It was gracious of you, hyung. ''

his eyes flick through to see Hoseok’s curious eyes set on him, and in his peripheral vision can see Jeongguk cock a brow at him, somewhat questioning like. Hoseok’s cold and competent demeanor has been shed off totally, as his child-like countenance holds surprise towards him.

“ That was the least I could do, Hoba. ”

Yoongi replies with a short hum, and he knows that the human bunny must have his eyes jumping out of his sockets to hear him talking to someone informally, something which doesn't happen often in the office premises. Hoseok’s face blooms in a heart shaped smile, his whole soul brightening up. That's a contagious smile.

He hears a sound of surprise from Jeongguk, on turning to him. He assumes that he's great at hiding that too, because he quickly clears up his throat and nods. Yoongi smiles a bit at him, and upon collecting the files, the three men head out for the rest of the day.

Yoongi is trying his best to not just fucking slam the plate of roasted shrimp on this man’s face.

He wishes absolutely nothing but a comfortable bed because his back hurts from sitting in such a straight posture for hours, not even having the time to stretch his aching limbs. Not to mention this uncomfortable suit which was once comfortable, but he's been wearing it since the morning— is he to blame?

oof, a part of him wished to roam nakey nakey in his home, but that..eh, cannot be.

He totally cannot ignore how fancy this place is, and he can see the whole Seoul from the large, spacious windows. Rooftop restaurants usually feel nice with a vibe so free and open, but not in front of this man who makes him want to deliver straight punches on his face and dislocate his jaw. The younger him was forced to oblige by his father's commands, but the him now doesn't see why can't he just fucking trash this old man till he—

He bites back the anger rising up to his throat. It's not often his father wishes to “ see him ” and be polite all of a sudden, not when it's because of him Yoongi has a bitter time managing something he didn't wish to even engage in. But maybe he has long gone through the stages of grief and acceptance has been his companion, so he has to grit his teeth the hardest to tolerate it all. He has seen it all. He has endured it all. Does he still have to?

“ Why aren't you eating, son? ” Oh, right. You wanted me to be here just to eat.

“ I’m not hungry. ”

Yoongi tries, or desperately hopes his lie isn't blatantly obvious, because he knows his tummy has been rumbling for an hour or so, but there's no way he'd be dining with this man. Not only does he hate how this old man has no etiquettes, chewing loudly or arguing with a damn waiter for a toothpick, he also hates his presence in common.

If he knows Yoongi well, Yoongi knows him just as well too, to know that this is just an excuse and he wishes to do something else, and that's enough to silence down his hunger.

“ Have you chosen any destination for the wedding as of yet?”

I knew it. Yoongi knows how selfish this man can be, and for him this question doesn't make any literal sense. He just met you yesterday, and there's no way..he expects Yoongi to move so fast, like that. What does he think he's in, 526 AD?

“ No. ”

Yoongi found himself speaking before he could think properly, seeing the old man in front of him wipe his mouth and cock a brow. Alright, if he's trying to communicate silently.. he guesses time has taught him better. To keep this non permeable layer on the top of his persona especially infront of this man, he knows he does it well. He won't utter a single word, because for the sake of fuck, he just saved your number in his phone a few hours ago! You cannot just expect him to do anything related to the marriage so quick, especially when his father's initiative had him tossing around his bed sleeplessly the whole night.

He would not let him use his fiancee for the profit of his own company. It's fucked up, not only in a single way but more than one. He's not much of a family guy, but marriage cannot be one sided- and for you, maybe he's lowering himself down enough to try and be a good guy for you, but does this old man ever even think of something which isn't business?

“ Do you not think time’s enough? You were told about the marriage a week ago already, ”

the man's voice has annoyance laced within, and Yoongi nearly snorts at his audacity.

“ Is it your wedding or mine, father? ”

“ You need to make it quick, ”

his retort comes back, and Yoongi can't help but feel satisfied at his growing anger. He knows to play the game, because this old man has been acting as if it's his own marriage. First, he gives you no other options and keeps on his emotional blackmail of never getting a partner who has been in his life for more than a year, second, for how it can benefit the Min family as the only heir.

Yoongi has long ago swept away the anger suppressing the guilt of his own mother being in his life for less than his teenage years, but he's tired. He kept on running forward without noticing how much this old man hurt him, but there has to be a time where you need to stand up. Maybe not for yourself, but for people who're soon going to be a part of your life. It's not always about yourself, but people you care about.

Yoongi found it ridiculous. Marriage just to make kids and raise them up like a handful of peas let out in a open windowsill. Just to make kids. And even possibly, money.

Yoongi found the idea suffocating at first. His own parents’ failed marriage had a big contribution in his way of thinking how arranged marriage can also be a forced marriage if the goal is only to lengthen the generation, not at all thinking that the parents involved are also humans. Humans with feelings cannot be forced to live a life destined to be forever with expectations, which could often either lead to success or failures. But to Yoongi, success in lives like these were forced failures masked with the stench of cash to make them look lavish.

So the thought of making it "quick" is enough to make him hiss in irritation. His eyes are now narrowed to slits towards the old man, anger slowly making its way to fog his already hunger ridden brain..

“ Why. ”

“ I've already told you, son. ”

“ What, Yeseul isn't talented enough as you promised she was to the team? ”

Yoongi tongues the inside of his cheek, visibly watching the old man try his hardest not to crumble down to flames. Comically, one would see smoke coming out of his ears. It makes Yoongi snorts out a humorless snort.

“ It's none of your business, do you get that? ”

The old man nears slightly with his neck down, eyes set firmly on Yoongi. As a child, the stare used to scare him the fuck out of his balls, but now this stare is enough to make him stifle a laugh. The manipulative stare which he expects everyone to become his puppet with. Well, I just hit his nerve.

“ My wedding, and none of my buisness, you say? ”

“There are other ways I can ask her to, I'm just trying to make it seem well ordered. ”

Again he goes. The same manipulative tone. If he thinks that his position can get him everything, maybe even if his arms reach longer than Yoongi’s imagination do, but Yoongi knows it well that he's all bark but a rare bite.

He would not let this happen. He knows his father is a corrupt man, who uses unfair means in his business. This is why D-7 is owned solely by Yoongi, who was once under partnership with his father. Yoongi has totally bought all the shares, making D-7 go public and him being the biggest investor. Thrusting in people not eligible enough to be in art, his father had already infected the industry more than enough, and now he wouldn't absolutely let the small shares marking the small partnership to the old man rise up.

“ Genuinely asking you. You could've opted any other way you're insinuating, but why this, out of many? ”

Not a pretence, but out of pure curiosity. He may as well as think this to be many reasons why he can bother Yoongi, but the pricking question hanging in the margin of the sword, that the danger lies just in the end.

Nepotism can be buried by the strength of dollars, but in some cases revolting unscrupulous businessmen like him, he knows that this would be a hot topic for the media. And the mere thinking of using someone so innocent and dragging to this pit of hell is honestly enough for him to throw up. You're already a hell of a talented designer, and if he wishes to invest your designs under the name of his good for nothing wife to whoosh up the sales, he'd rather not marry you.

That's.. a different thing now, isn't it?

His father keeps quiet. Yoongi feels the burn of his stare digging holes in his skull, however, lets out a deep laugh at the end.

“I guess you're naive enough to not know how profitable it can be for both : her, you, and even me.”

“ At least I know for Yeseul, it is not. ”

“ She's your mother,”

Stepmother, he almost wishes to hiss the word out, but saying it out loud would definitely make bile rise up to his mouth, because his already starving self cannot physically bear any more stress than already he has been carrying around. He's not ashamed to say that his stepmother is younger than Yoongi himself, and an absolute gold digger, who he doubts even has a degree of graduation.

Such an ostentatious person gets often compared to Mrs. Min, his mother by all the rising gossip every single day. Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, knowing that this conversation would rather have such wounds pricked up inside his heart which would have him bleeding longer than he could bear.

“ No. ”

He sees the old man flare his nostrils in anger, kissing his teeth: and Yoongi doesn't even feel a bit sorry for it. It is what it is. And he would not make any fuss about it. He'd rather call that woman his sister than his mother, and seriously? Yoongi doesn't give two flying fucks about who she is. Yesterday the discussion didn't go too well, and he felt a lot more bothered than his manifest could muster, but he knows that his father's current wife, Yeseul, has no skill or whatsoever to be the president of the corporation his father owns. It is what it is.

And not even an exaggeration, he knows that it's all the glitters and gold which attracts her to this sophisticated man; it wouldn't be long time from now when he'd be left again with a balding head and an empty bank account.

Someone younger than Yoongi himself and he wants to call them his parent.

Ha.

And that's the reason why the old man wishes to hire ____ to work under him, but in the end the credits would go to Yeseul, because apparently that woman had promised his team to be a better visualization designer.

He wants Yoongi to marry you, so that the hiring would seem rather natural, and Yoongi thinks that it would only drag you more to the mud of the industry and gossip, which he does not want.

“ More like my junior. ”

Yoongi cocks his brow, sipping some water from the glass nearby his wrist.

“ Remember that she's my wife. My legal wife, and your mother. ”

A bitter scoff escapes Yoongi, his nostrils flaring at his sentence as he peers down to his empty plate.

“ She is not my mother. ”

Yoongi makes sure he stresses on the word not, dragging out each syllable with a rough taste on his tongue. He can tolerate many things, but not the absence of his mother, which has left a gaping, open dent in his soul forever. The only gentle presence he ever had in his growing years was her, the only person he called his family, that too, is no longer present with you.. he could feel his stomach churn with anger.

He had a single mother. And though she was no longer with him, he does not consider anyone else to be in the same position as his mother. A mother who raised him up, sacrificing everything for him. Despite having another parent, him, he never even had his shadow touch any of them. He feels anger totally cloud his mind, now that the gentle touch of your soul had touched him, he was about to lose it all.

“ I fucking dare you to even lay a finger on ___, her you fucking stink. I’ll make sure that no amount of money can heal you afterwards.” Yoongi growls loudly, raising a sweaty palm up and ordering for the bill.

Yoongi is out of his head, and he totally has lost his sense of rationality. Triggering the pain of his dead mother along with barrelling his fiancee to this topic makes him a person he doesn't know yet. Yoongi is done with this conversation, this sick conversation about his morally grey buisness.

And he totally misses the somewhat shocked and fearful, agape mouth of the old man in front of him as Yoongi sweeps his coat out of the headrest after paying and marches out of the venue without taking a look back. his head is throbbing with pain and stomach is wild with ugly sensations.

He wishes to take this slow, talk to you more and atleast befriend you and be comfortable before any preparations, but this situation.. he doesn't fear his father anymore, but. It's you. It's you who he fears because of the industry, because of the dirt which smears every part of him. He's used to it, he had to make himself so, but he cannot let someone as pure as you be contaminated.

Once again it's all a haze infront of his eyes. The strong wind hitting his face from the open car window does nothing to soothe his burning thoughts, and neither does the low humming of music in the radio. It all feels a blur.

He remembers not much, or rather forces himself not to. After that, eh, meeting with that old man, the only thing he knew was to call Jeongguk and ask him to clear all his schedules for the day.

The voice from the other side sounded very concerned, but Yoongi is thankful he only asked whether he's alright and let the topic drop without dragging it much. He just hopes that Jeongguk understands. And then he's straight up driving somewhere he doesn't know where, but he's tired. Mentally, physically, and every way possible.

He's tired of thinking so much. He's so tired he totally missed the constant buzzing of his phone on the center console.

Little does he know that not receiving his calls has sent Seokjin to hayware.

All what he knows are the words, the flashes of memories which float infront of his eyes and the constant struggle to keep himself as where he is and not getting lost in the moment, to fall back within the memories. The constant ache in his head which replays your voice saying, “ I don't ” and the picture of your sweet face. The constant scowl he remembers of his father saying he wants him to marry you only for his own profit.

Did you really mean to sacrifice your passion for a stupid marriage?

His grip on the steering wheel is so tight, his knuckles have turned white. What if the old man approaches you and lures you to work for him? Yeah, of course for an outsider that business would look so organized, so well planned, but only people like Yoongi know the truth.

He's the sweetest to anyone who doesn't know him well. Hell, even he believes that the woman he married might not know him any better. He could sell your soul to anyone in front of you with you being totally oblivious.

All that glitters isn't gold.

He knows your passion for art even if he doesn't know you. He knows that maybe you'd be willing enough to work for that man, but would that be okay if that woman, Yeseul takes all the credits and you've lost your deserved recognition? Would you be able to manage to be afloat on the dirty smear of the industry without blaming yourself?

Would you hate him? He won't listen to shit. An artist has every rights to be credited and if it's snatched away by every means, he really wonders if you'd be alright with it. Alright with the theft. He doesn't gives a single fuck about the ever shitting media who just needs a topic to whisk on untill it's shit. He just cares about you.

Wait..

Does he—?

But one thing he already knows is that the news of his marriage would be enough of a bonfire starter.

He's now leaning on his car, aching limbs begging to have a seat but the tension in his spine doesn't budge.

Even if he had promised himself, he finds himself slipping down his mask, each time the memories of his happy self, his young happy self with his mother comes to his mind and the realization floats that he cannot rewind those memories any more. She's no longer with him.

All he knows is the burning sensation of nicotine filling his lungs all down to his toes, and the puff of smoke released out releases his tension, even by an inch if that is, too. He breathes out the smoke through his nostrils, fidgeting with the small silver lighter in his hand. He knows that it's a shitty, wrong way to cope up with anxiety , although his healing nails thank him for letting them be.

But at least the cigarette does not tell you anything. It does what it's supposed to do, what it's meant to do, what it's made to do, and dies.

So much like a human.

The park he's standing in the corner of is noisy, but somewhat tolerable. The warm air is making him feel stuffy, and the cool place has the least effect on him. The place feels..nice. He blinks twice, feeling his eyes burn with the hot weather, too.

Somehow his mind convicts back to you.

And somehow, knowing very well that his father's company is filled with back stabbers.. somehow if the information is leaked abroad, would you be alright?

God fucking damn it. Why is he thinking about all these when you're possibly oblivious and thinking of your marriage?

What are you doing now?

How are you?

How did your day go?

Why would you want to marry a guy like him?

All these thoughts are totally enough to make him squirm. Why does he care? He just met you yesterday. He knows not much except some things, but still, the pull to just know about you is eating him up right now. It's just crazy how the thought of you not liking him irks him a Lot, like, a Lot.

Shifting the cigarette to his left hand, he reaches to get his phone from the console. His throat feels dry as fuck, almost feeling as if it'd crack up.

He'd kill for a bottle of water, but well, even swallowing his saliva feels like a mountain breaking down on him. It's been a long time since he checked on his phone other than calling his secretary. He should've checked, because the upcoming projects do have connections to files which only he has access to. Well.

.. alright, there's a spam email.

…..next, a Google chrome updat—

…..?

…

[ Seokjin Hyung : 95 missed calls ]

[ Seokjin Hyung : 350+ unread messages ]

Yoongi felt a sweat bead run down his temple.

He totally forgot about the fact that he was supposed to meet Seokjin nearly an hour ago, and when he sees the endless thread of texts, he almost feels like tearing up.

The poor man had texted him since 12:30 asking if his schedule is light enough for their meeting, or he'd meet him some other day. The texts get vigorous after each text, angry emojis and random keyboard smashes asking him about his condition. The guilt is slowly building in his lower tummy to know how considerate his friend is, and how ignorant he was to him.

They had a deal about visiting the local mall and hitting the game zone, but..

He wishes to call him, so bad. His throat is running dry, and the throb of his head deepens, more. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he desperately wishes he had the courage to call him and talk, and maybe actually share his problems, but he knows Seokjin would be so mad… not that it's like Seokjin is a person who's out of control, but as a caring friend, he sometimes gets a bit overactive.

He knows Seokjin would be the only person who'd understand him better than anyone else, but maybe calling him after he's cooled down would be the best option. He knows Seokjin isn't that level headed, but he deserves an explanation, and maybe he isn't ready right now.

And so he leaves the texts as they are, texting back a single “i’ll call u back asap”, and navigates to his contact list. He's contemplating hard, right now. The “ favorite ” starred contacts stare at him, Seokjin, Jeongguk, Taehyung, and then..yours. His fingers hover over Seokjin’s for a while, and then, over yours.

Maybe it's not the right option to call you. Nope, not at all. Why would he even think that? You two aren't even friends. Not when he doesn't know if you're free enough to talk to him, not when he doesn't know if his call would be a disturbance.

Not when he feels like his call would annoy you. He shouldn't, because it's been just a day you've shared numbers, and wouldn't it be too early to call and just ask,“Hey, whatcha doing? ” Nah, that would be way too awkward. Way too—

“ Mr. Min? ”

A soft voice chirps beside him, knocking out all the air out of his lungs. He has never been this reactive to a voice, blame his fucked out state. He catches himself turning immediately to the source of the voice, arms beating flat against his windowsill, gasping.

Wildflowers.

He's met with a faint smell of honey, and jasmine, and the mixed smell of wildflower bouquet that greets him, the cluster of yellow and small lavender flowers resting with the lush greenery among them. His brows furrowed slightly at how a bouquet of flowers is what he sees in the beginning rather than the voice, but a small moment of realization takes place when he sees the person hiding behind the gigantic bouquet.

“ Fuck. ”

He doesn't notice how a cold breeze caresses his flushed, hot skin, as a pair of warm, doe eyes stare up at him.

You.

“ ____? ”

“ Did I scare you off? ”

Your lips quirk upwards, a hard attempt to hold back your giggles to see how flustered he looks, surprised till the extent you'd say, if comically, he looks like a cat caught playing with boxes at midnight with his fur sticking up in all the directions, wide eyed and mouth agape.

His eyes are still wide when he relaxes visibly in your presence, sighing down with a smile.

The faint smell of tobacco greets you and subconsciously scrunch up your nose. You're not a big fan of cigarettes, and maybe it's your instinct to shove away the smell. You didn't want to assume too much, but maybe you did get the bad boy vibes from this man. So his smoking didn’t really phase you as much as it should've.

Light beige shirt with rolled up sleeves and tailored pants. Pretty, flowy black hair parted on forehead, and pale skin flushed with a sheen layer of sweat. He looks really..handsome but also very adorable with those flushed cheeks, but also, so..tired at the same time.

His eyes scream for rest.

Out of so many people, you have to admit it. Min Yoongi was the least of your expectations. A simple walk from your favourite florist to back home, there's a lovely little park, where you often visit for giggles and laughs, and honestly speaking, you couldn't even imagine Yoongi standing there, even if it was in a far corner.

You didn't really wish to say that, but a La Rose Noiré standing in the corner had actually attracted more attention than he'd even ever intended to. Would that be a co-incidence to say that he didn't leave your mind even if he had physically left your home hours ago, and now that he's standing in front of you?

His eyes lack the glint they had yesterday. His shoulders seem unfairly tensed, even if his posture is leaned back. You don't know him, yet, but there's a certain hue of coldness around his shoulders, and all the calculating gazes and stares he gave you yesterday, you somehow found the way to nudge into the warmer side of him, or so you assume.

He doesn't seem to be the most affectionate of a person, or so you assume, again. The internet, irrespective of their own words, never fails to regard him to be made up of stone. Is that anything new, though? you beg to differ. His quick consideration of your whole situation despite being demanding for both of you assured you that this man wasn't the man stealing the headlines and trends on twitter. Even if that was the bare minimum, you appreciate it.

“ I— I just didn't expect you here. ”

His words lag behind with a flurry of coughs and furrowed brows, and you see him shuffling his phone back to his pocket, crushing his cigarette underneath his shiny black shoes meanwhile. He doesn’t seem too well, you see.

His skin is paler than usual, and his silky hair slightly unruly, some strands sticking to his forehead. His skin seems to be a bit more flushed, too. He seems uncomfortable in general, and he covers his mouth to sniffle back a sneeze.

“ Mr. Min, are you not well? ”

No verbal response comes back, but a quirk of brows is enough to answer you. So unreadable, you think. But it does not take rocket science to figure out, does it? Without thinking twice, your palms reach up to his slightly sweaty forehead.

You have to tip toe a bit to reach up to him, but that's alright. Was your palm too cool or his skin burning that it felt like his forehead was a preheated yok?

No, you realize.

“ Mr. Min, you're burning up! ”

Not much of a response comes back, but his eyebrows simply shoot up a bit more, and a bit more coughs which seems to have flushed his face, even more.

He grunts something in response but you miss it, and your palm cupping his warm (and surprisingly soft ) cheek, the action catching him and you both off guard. His eyes widen and so do yours, feeling a heat wave rush up to your face. He coughs, and you immediately remove your hands from his cheek, your palm tingling faintly afterwards. And maybe your whole body too, with embarrassment.

Dear god.

You didn't really mean anything….er. Having the habit of being a bit too affectionate to your siblings would actually make you slip accidentally, you couldn't even imagine. Especially when it's..your fiance.

“ S-sorry. ”

You cringe inwardly at how fucking small you sound, especially hating the stutter that came with it. You wish the earth could suck you up before this conversation advances, right here and right now. It was an accidental touch, a touch which was more instinctive than intentional, yet you do feel that fuzz in your stomach, the fuzz which makes your heart skip miles.

He gives you a small head shake, rubbing his neck with his hands, not before muttering out an it's okay.

You feel relieved a bit, knowing that at least you didn't creep Yoongi out. Or who knows. That undecipherable gaze, those dark brown pupils and that neutral expression. You cannot really say what's going inside his head, and you can only pray otherwise. Oh dear..

Only if you had known Yoongi, you'd have known the effect of your cool touch on the poor guy. Of course you'd miss how Yoongi's heart felt like it's up to his mouth, trying to jump off it's way out to you.

Fuck, what was happening with him?

( literally ).

“ Mr. Min, you need to get some rest. Your.. your fever’s quite intense. ”

You see him clear his throat, running a big hand through his ruffly hair. He nods with a sigh, and you actually notice how pale he looks. He looks disturbed, sick and tired all together, and you suddenly ponder how much and what actually happened to him to be this stressed, but you don't whip on it.

“ Have you eaten? ”

Even if he was already pale, you see color draining down from his face even more, almost as if he himself was yeeted to a moment of epiphany. He wets his lips with his tongue, shaking his head, silently eyeing you for your reaction.

He has not eaten anything as well.

“ Mr. Min, make a call to your home, right now. To whoever is waiting for you. ”

His face morphs to a baffled expression, and you have to think that this was the only expression he has clearly shown you today. But whatever it is. You nod as a confirmation, confusing him even further. As you were told, his father and he live alone separately, but there has to be someone back home, right ?

“ Mrs. Kang…my caretaker would be present at my house, but..why? "

His voice seems way too groggy for his own good, and you can't help but pinch your eyebrows in concern. It seems that even talking is taking a lot of effort for him.

“ Call her, and let her know you won't be home tonight. ”

You have to bite your inner cheek to process how the word home sounds when you say that out loud, because another expression breaks out on Yoongi’s face : his lips part in a slight pout, asking a silent explanation from you. Another small adorable expression.

You bite your lips to cease the smile wanting to break free to see this man so cute that you have to stop yourself from giving in and squishing his cheeks. Who'd know that such an intimidating guy such as himself would be a small, steamed mandu when confused?

Well, at least you didn't. Dear me, he's way too adorable for his own good.

That would be inappropriate. Not after whatever you’ve just done.

Mentally preparing yourself once again, you advance just a bit more closer to him, pretending to offer him the bouquet in your hands.

“ Because you'd be resting at my house today, Mr. Min. ”

a/n : hello and i hope you enjoyed reading the first chapter of apricity 🤪 of course, this is an all new, re-written chapter which i finished in a single day after four months of procrastination 💪🏽🤕

all sorts of feedbacks are always welcome, and, i’m always open for an ask or a text hehe ;D

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 2 months

Text

Valentine's Day...Gifts They Give You?? I Think. IDK.

HAH SCHOOL CAN KICK MY BUTT BUT BY GOD AND THE DEVIL WILL I SHARE A LITTLE BIT OF LOVE!! (I'm suffering Jesus fucking CHRIST this course is gonna eat my fried up brain for breakfast lunch and dinner) This is done assuming they're pining for Yuu, save for Ortho he's Idia's little wingman. GN reader as always bbssssssssss if anything seems canon divergent, check out my HCs lmao

Heartslaybul Ace: He thought about making it super romantic, like he spent the week leading up to Valentine's day brainstorming ideas on napkins and doodling on scrap paper, trying to come up with a way to ask to hang out that would make it feel different than normal, but not so obvious that he...you know, likes you. He ends up showing up at Ramshackle before class with a box of chocolates he bought the day before and a bit of a blushing mess. "I just got these because who knows how much Sam will have by the end of today, you owe me half, ok?"

Deuce: He absolutely called his mom to ask for some advice, and asked his dorm mom (Trey), to proofread the hand written note he had meticulously written and supervise while he tries to make a heartshaped quiche. Why quiche? Well he knows you guys have...Memories about eggs, and he remembers it fondly, and he knows that quiche freezes well, so if he makes a big batch, you can eat what you want and have a readily available breakfast to just pop back in the oven whenever you want it - hopefully you'll remember him each time you do, and you'll ask for more when you finish it! He ends up at Ramshackle a little disheveled and out of breath, trying to make the quiche early enough in the day that he could make it there before breakfast so maybe you could share a meal before class. "It's still warm??" "Yeah, I ran here as fast as I could once it was cool enough to handle." "You didn't have to..." "I wanted to! You're more than worth the effort it took to be here on time." Trey: Mans has a major advantage in that he is great in the kitchen, but he can't just make your favourite dessert. He can do that any day. No, for weeks ahead of time, he plans, makes, tests, and revises a new recipe, something that is unique and meant to be for you. It's more effort than he normally puts into his work, but it's so worth it when he shows up at Ramshackle in the evening to deliver his gift and a small note, though he gets shy. He leaves it on the front door step, knocks once, and moves to hide by the side of the house, relying on Grim's nose to bring you to the door if you didn't hear him knock. Seeing the way your face go from confusion to joy and excitement as you read the note is worth every moment he spent crouching. He knows tomorrow you'll want to talk to him in person, but for now, that's more than enough for him.

Cater: Consumerism Capital lmao. He has a really sweet, genuine gift to give to you, but the time he's spent with his sisters makes him second guess whether or not something is "good enough". So, yes, he will have spent 72 hours painting a fucking masterpiece on a phone case for you, or a pair of shoes you said you wanted, or a skateboard so you guys can skateboard together, or something you mentioned you wanted offhandedly months ago, but he's not sure if it's enough, so to "make up" for his "shitty handmade gift", he buys a shit ton of Valentine's day merchandise! He shows up with the giant teddy bear, the bouquet of flowers, the chocolates, the sappy movies, a trending perfume and some sort of specialty drink he picked up at a cafe. Depending on your reaction to all that stuff, he might actually give you the gift he worked on, otherwise you'll see it by accident or something and he gets embarrassed and a little flustered because What If You Don't Like It, Isn't Everything Else Better Than That Thing I Worked On Specifically For You. Treat him gently please. That's a personal request slkdjfhlskdjf

Riddle: He's new to this. So of course he researched long and hard on how to best express his interest in you without trying to push anything on you. Cater tried to show him cute stuff on social media, but it all seemed so scripted, disingenuous, or so over the top he couldn't see himself doing it that way. Or on the other end - they were couples, well into their relationships and living together- that wasn't where he was with you, at least....not yet. He ends up watching, reading and listening to tutorials on how to put together the perfect bouquet - his beloved rose garden would have more than an aesthetic use now, and with a little magic, a beautiful gradient came easily to the bunch of roses he arranged beautifully. Before you, this holiday just seemed ridiculous. Maybe it still was, but he would indulge if it meant it brought a smile to your face.

Savannaclaw

Jack: He can't be direct for the life of him, not in terms like this. The night before Valentine's day, he's still stumped on what to do for you that won't be...inherently romantic and obvious, but show that he cares about you!! His eyes end up settling on his little cactus and he ends up finally getting an idea. Somehow after class, but before you got home, he managed to gift you your own tiny cactus. He left it sitting in a box, a small knitted coaster of sorts sitting underneath the flower pot - he put it in the box just so that the yarn wouldn't snag on the uneven wood outside of Ramshackle- and a tiny cowboy hat sitting on top of your cactus. It had been from one of his little siblings dolls that ended up in his bag from the last time he'd gone home, but either they didn't even notice it was gone, or he could get them a replacement later.

Ruggie: "Do you have plans for Valentine's day?" "Yep. Wait for it to be over." He doesn't really care for Valentine's day, but the sale that starts on the 15th? Goddamn, yeah, he's gonna capitalize on that....and he might even like you enough to share a little bit of it...maybe while watching a movie....and snuggling up under the same blanket at Ramshackle...that he may or may not have snagged from Leona's pile of Really Nice blankets....all it takes is for you to say you want some chocolate or treats too.

Leona: He really doesn't care for Valentine's day and all the shit that comes with it, but his sister in law asked him to at least try to make the best of the day. Initially, he was going to...at least try to contest it, but ultimately decided there was a simple way to do it. He ends up firing you a quick text to meet him in the greenhouse. While the way he pulls you into his little nest for napping is rather unceremonious, once you've settled he tucks a pink camellia behind your ear before abruptly telling you he's going to sleep and you're welcome to join him or you can get out of there if you want. He hopes, that just maybe, you'll be able to identify the flower he gave you and find out what it means.

Octavinelle

Floyd: Azul is making him work overtime for Valentine's day, he doesn't get up early enough to do anything Before classes, and by the end of his shift he's EXHAUSTED and MAD. He likely has the wherewithall to bring you a serving from the special menu in a takeout container before flopping down on the couch next to you, then onto you, just looking for a little bit of physical affection. The next day he does feel a little bad for not making you feel as special as he could have, so he'll wake you up with breakfast in bed. Jade: Again, he's been working overtime but he was more ready for Valentine's day than Floyd. While he can't take you anywhere on the day of, he has an easy hike and picnic planned for the weekend if you'll join him. Despite being in the wild outdoors, he's determined to make you a dish that would be worthy of serving at the lounge. He will not handle being asked to stay home very well, but ultimately will if you want that more....but it's going to be in your backyard.

Azul: He had so much on his plate leading up to Valentine's day with marketing, organizing shifts and maximizing profit. But, some of that profit was already planned to be set aside specifically for you. It was about time that you got a bit of a leg up, right? I mean working for Crowley can only pay so much, and he's the head of the dorm that represents generosity anyways. So on the day after Valentine's day, he shows up in the evening with a laptop, and envelope with cash, and a grin, ready to show you the wonders of ✨investing✨. He may have forgotten you still...want to go home. He'll backtrack a bit and offer to help you find contractors that will renovate a part of Ramshackle for you.

Scarabia

Jamil: He didn't even bother trying to plan something for himself with you. How could he? It was a holiday, as ridiculous as it was, it meant that Kalim would inevitably want to celebrate it on the dorm level, and Jamil, of course, would have to plan and organize and arrange everything in order to make it work out. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't make sure to invite you. It didn't mean that he wouldn't make the time to ensure your favourite dish was served. Or that your favourite song would come on during the dance party portion of the celebration. Or that he wouldn't check on you just as, if not more frequently than he did on Kalim to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if you're not, if it's all too much, he accounted for that already and will show you where you can stay until you feel okay again. Of course, if you show up an hour or two early and demand (you can't ask, he'll say no) to be given a task to lighten his burden, he might just admire you a little bit more (even if he still says no).

Kalim: Valentine's Day means partayyyyy time!! There's gonna be food, and dancing, and games, and lots of people, and live music because he, Cater, and Lilia are gonna perform, won't you come see him?? He needs you there so he can perform the best he ever has!! Come on Yuu, please??? They did actually practice, because they had to change a few lyrics so that it could be a better cover for Valentine's day and he was thinking of you when they modified it, so can you pleeeeeeeease come?

Pomefiore

Epel: He isn't sure whether he wants to continue a tradition he had from home or not, where he would show up at school with handmade lollipops and give them out to people....but his class at primary school was soooo much smaller, it wouldn't make sense to do it here for everyone. Not to mention, he usually had his grandma help him make them, he's never done it on his own. He likely does it for all the first years in his little friend group because he doesn't want to be obvious to anyone person that maybe...he likes them a little more...however your lollipop is the only one that seems to have no imperfections. Funny how that worked out.

Rook: Screw your alarm clock, he knows when you wake up anyways and will be outside your window, serenading you until you wake up. Even if you end up rolling out of bed lookin like a sewer rat and peaking out the window, once he knows you're awake he'll start reading poetry to you. He kinda just lingers until you're done getting ready enough to come great him outside, where he gives you a single rose and a few sheets of paper that he's written his poems about you on. He'll kiss the back of your hand and offer to escort you to class. ** I just want to say, for as much as I gripe about Rook in other posts, I genuinely believe that if he knew or found out you had no Valentine, no plans, and nobody treated you, he would, by the end of the day, at least have left a rose and handwritten note on in front of your door apologizing for not having asked to be your Valentine earlier and going through and complimenting you, though the note is completely anonymous. Rook is a bleeding heart (hehe Snow White ref) and regardless of his feelings for you/your feelings for him, he wants to make sure Valentine's day is positive for you.

Vil: Ugh, Valentine's day. It's a tacky, meaningless holiday that corporations push for the sake of profit. He agrees to model stuff still, sure, he has to in order to try and keep up with Neige, but he hates it. He gets his nails done so that they are jet black. Part of him wants to go goth for the day, but really that would be an overreaction to something so minor. He rejects any Valentine's day gifts, and likely won't want to do anything special, so if anything, you get to see a slightly out of character Vil as he either facetimes you to make sure you've been drinking water today and rant about the industry and how it's ruined Valentine's day, or. You send him a really cheesy gif wishing him a happy Valentines day and he very reluctantly replies, but tells you to never do that again (and it segues into Above).

Ignihyde

Idia (+ wingman/little shit Ortho): Ortho didn't really intend to snoop, but his big brother just left his phone out in the open...well he threw it onto his bed and mumbled something about being a loser. According to Ortho's analysis of Idia's phone, he hadn't been on a mobile game, so what got him so worked up? He sifted through until he found the culprit- the draft of a really sweet...and yeah, kinda cringey message he had written out addressed to the prefect of Ramshackle. Eugh he didn't need to read that...but...but Yuu should. He sends the message for Idia right before his brother comes back into the room, mumbling about how he needs to delete something. His eyes go wide as saucers as he sees not only has the message been sent, but the prefect has read it and is replying in that very moment. Idia reprimands Ortho immediately, but gently until the Prefects response comes through and Ortho confirms the tone is positive. Diasomnia lord help me it's one in the morning

Sebek: Wasn't going to do anything until Lilia mentioned...."exaggerated"...just how important Valentine's Day can be to humans. His decision to try and come up with a last minute gift only amplifies if he sees someone else give Yuu a gift, and ultimately decides with a certain degree of defeat just to buy something from Sam's shop. He decides something practical is best, but gets a little distracted around the candles. Surely in Ramshackle you would appreciate something small, aromatic and it even offers a small bit of heat! He decides to go through with it, but it's only noon, surely he can customize it a bit more before the end of the day. Lilia ends up walking into Sebek's room at around 10:30, only to see him struggling to stay awake as he wipes off paint from the lid. Based on the discarded tissues around, he hasn't been satisfied with any customizations he's tried to make. Lilia gently encourages him just to write a quick note, and he'll deliver it to the prefects doorstep for him so he can get to sleep. Sebek insists it's not perfect, but is forced to accept defeat as Lilia ushers him to bed, reassuring him that the prefect will still appreciate it.

Silver: He knows that he struggles to stay awake, so he starts on his project long before Valentine's day so that he can work on it whenever he has the wherewithall to do so. Come Valentine's day, he has the gift with him during class, and ends up sitting outside of Ramshackle, passed out next to the door waiting for you to show up so he can hand you his gift, which turns out to be a dagger. No, he didn't make it, but he wanted to research the best option for someone of your size and stature, the quality, where to purchase it reliably, to make a small write up on how to care for it properly, what it can and should be used for, and activities it's not suggested to use it for, but you technically "can". It also gives him an excuse to come see you more often to teach you how to use it- often teaching someone is a great way to learn and will add another layer to his training. Lilia: He's been around for so many Valentine's Days, he probably knew the fucking saint it was named after. That being said, he loves to make the most of life, and that doesn't stop here! Get ready for a home cooked meal, you don't have to worry about dinner tonight sweetheart, Lilia's got it covered. Or he'll pay for take out. Or both, to make up for the mess in your kitchen.

Malleus: He's been aware of the holiday for years, but has never really had a reason to celebrate it. But now there's someone who isn't scared of him. Someone who, perhaps if he asked, you would allow him to spend time with you. He ends up daydreaming about the activities the two of you could do together, from making gargoyles to learning to make ice cream together, he ends up spending the entire day like that. Though he's a bit frustrated at his loss of time, he writes out a heartfelt letter to invite you to join him in those activities at a later date. He'll either wait for you outside, or if its too late in the night, simply slide the letter under your door.

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

I was gonna do Che'nya and Neige and even Rollo but its. its way too late, I'm hungry and I have a STATS class tomorrow RIP me.

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boytumms · 2 months

Note

Jae Anon here!

I had an idea that popped into my head after seeing something from, if I remember correctly, marmalade-draws. I could be wrong. But basically, a spell or a piece of jewelry or something is enchanted/cast to make anything Person A eats appear in Person B’s stomach.

Here’s my twist on it. It works both ways. So Person B can eat and it’ll appear in Person A’s stomach.

Enjoy!

Oliver prepared his suit and tie to attend his sister’s wedding. As he did so, he had an idea.

“Hey Elijah! Come in here for a second please!” Oliver called out, smirking a little as he heard his boyfriend’s footsteps.

“What’s up Oliver?” Elijah asked, leaning in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow as Oliver handed over a small necklace.

“So you know how I’m into stuffing? Well, I thought it would be fun if you could do it while I was at my sister’s wedding. Then we could have fun when I get back,” Oliver said, smiling as he put a matching necklace around his neck and tucked it under his shirt.

Elijah couldn’t help but smirk at the idea, putting the necklace on. He was very excited for this.

“You betcha. But how do you want to let me to know when to stop? I doubt you’ll have time to look on your phone,” Elijah said, a little concern showing in his voice.

“I’ll drink something so you feel it in your stomach. It’s the quickest and easiest way to do it. I’m gonna be late if I stall any longer. Start whenever you feel ready,” Oliver said, placing a quick peck on Elijah’s cheek before running out the door.

Oliver made it to the wedding with time to spare. As he sat in his seat, waiting for something to happen, he was surprised that Elijah hadn’t eaten anything yet. He went almost the whole wedding without feeling anything.

When dinner was served, Oliver decided to get a little payback on Elijah. He ate almost nonstop taking thirds and fourths on his plate. By the time he finished the fifth plate, he started feeling his stomach begin to get full.

Oliver sighed quietly as he rested his hand on his stomach, excited to feel himself being stuffed. It took a minute, but he felt his stomach become uncomfortably full. Elijah must’ve been taking some big bites because Oliver felt his stomach swell with each one.

Oliver was soon nearing his maximum limit, his stomach growling in response. It wasn’t noticeable yet, but his round belly was beginning to push on his buttoned dress shirt. Oliver took a glass of water and quickly drank it, becoming worried when Elijah didn’t stop. Oliver quickly got up and said his goodbyes, blaming it on an early work day for tomorrow.

Oliver ran to his car and hurriedly started it, groaning as he felt his suit begin straining against his stomach. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and suit, not wanting to ruin it by popping the buttons. Oliver unzipped his pants, frowning as his stomach easily settled into the open space. As relieving as it was, he was not enthused, despite feeling turned on by the experience. Oliver drove as fast as the speed limit would let him, letting up belches and groans as he did.

By the time Oliver arrived home, he could barely get out of his car with how heavy his stomach was. He looked like he could easily be six months pregnant. The stuffed boy waddled his way into the house, using his hands to hold his stuffed belly. Even then, he could feel mouthful after mouthful of food being shoved into his already strained tummy.

“Elijah! What the heck?!” Oliver exclaimed, closing the door behind him with a huff. In front of Elijah on their coffee table was still loads of food, all meant for Oliver.

“I was napping when you rudely gave me this food baby, so I figured you could use a couple food babies in return,” Elijah said with a grin as he caressed his swollen, bloated abdomen. He immediately chugged a two liter soda, eyes intently on his boyfriend’s stomach.

Oliver groaned as he lowered himself into the soft couch, his stomach swelling and gurgling with the soda. He put his hand up to ask his boyfriend to stop, but Elijah was intent on watching Oliver wriggle uncomfortably. As time went on, Elijah watched as Oliver moaned and groaned with his growing abdomen, clearly stuffed beyond what he was used to.

Elijah decided to stop when Oliver looked nice and round, a record of looking nine months pregnant. He took the necklaces off them and smiled at his boyfriend, taking to gently rubbing and caressing the swollen, red tummy of his boyfriend.

“Now I feel kinda bad. How about next time, you can go to an all you can eat buffet and fill me this full for a change?” Elijah asked, working out bubbles for the little bit of relief Oliver could get. Soon enough, the stuffed man fell asleep. Elijah put a blanket over Oliver, returning to his original seat.

Elijah looked at the pile of food that was still left, deciding to eat the rest so it wouldn’t go to waste. After a couple hours, Elijah sat back and marveled at his stuffed belly. He wasn’t nearly as big as Oliver, but he was close. His shirt stayed snuggly on his stomach, unable to move from the sheer amount of pressure from his bulging stomach.

Elijah now felt really bad for Oliver, feeling what he went through and now understanding his boyfriend. He soon succumbed to his food coma, snoring softly as he lay next to Oliver. The next day was a chore, both still being overly stuffed and bloated. Elijah made sure to tend to Oliver, ignoring his own pains and setting to help relieve Oliver of his.

Awww, these two sound so cute!!! Constantly in a cycle of getting revenge on each other for stuffing one another too much, then feeling bad and coming home to sooth their poor partners over stuffed belly

#ask #anonymous #tummy ache #stuffing #belly ache #stomachache #writings #jae anon

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yumizcorner · 1 year

Text

Innocent ~

Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

Y/n and Hyunjin we‘re on their way home from a long tiring day. They went to ikea and other stores like that to find some fancy furniture for their new flat. They moved into an apartment together just a few weeks ago so everything was pretty new. They already had the most they needed and the only stuff that was missing was some decor and some pillows for the couch.

Somehow y/n felt herself getting pretty turned on by the way Hyunjin acted lately. He was pretty stressed and exhausted from the day wich meant that he talked to her in a harsh way sometimes and acted pretty mean. Y/n couldn’t explain herself why but in fact she could even feel herself getting a little wet. As soon as they arrived their apartment y/n started to kiss Hyunjin in a needy way. After a few minutes her boyfriend understood her acting and stopped kissing her. „Why are you like that huh?“ y/n tried to send signs that she was needy but Hyunjin didn’t seem to get the hints so she sighed,finally telling him what was wrong. „I’m horny Jinnie and I need you baby,please“ she said a little whiny. They actually rarely had sex because Hyunjin always thought y/n was innocent. Innocent and cute even tho he knew that she was the completely opposite of it. Sometimes he was even scared to go too rough on her,afraid to break her. „Baby let’s do that tomorrow or some other day okay? I’m gonna take a shower now.“ y/n stopped him from walking towards the bathroom as she grapes his wrist. „Take me with you.“ she said smiling. „You know I don’t like that.“ he said and closed the bathroom door. And some point y/n even believed that he didn’t find her attractive and that he didn’t like her body but she tried to just ignore those thoughts.

What she didn’t know was that Hyunjin actually wanted to make the next move with her but he was just afraid to push y/n too much and he didn’t want it to happen too fast.

While her boyfriend was in the shower y/n went to the bedroom and decided to wear some special lingerie wich she had to surprise Hyunjin one day. As soon as she was done with that she casually laid down in the bed,the blanket covering her whole body.

After a few minutes Hyunjin entered the room too and laid down next to her. He gave her a little kiss on the cheek and just did some stuff on his phone. At this point y/n didn’t care anymore. She was needy and if Hyunjin wouldn’t dominate her,she would have to be that part. In fact her goal was to make her boyfriend as needy as she was right in the moment. She didn’t really think and just went for it. She removed the blanket and crawled onto her boyfriend sitting on his lap. Her boyfriend didn’t really seem to care about it wich made y/n even More upset. She then took his phone and laid it down somewhere else. Hyunjins eyes widened as he saw how his girlfriend looked right now. Sitting on top of him looking needy. She casually started to kiss him while he seemed a little helpless. Y/n then took his hands and placed them on her ass. „I’m not made out of glass baby~“ she said smiling at him. „But you’re too innocent.“ he said looking into her eyes. „Mhhh well then…“ she got off of him and grabbed some stuff from the nightstand wich she hid there. She started to tie her boyfriend onto the bed. „What are you doing baby?“ he asked looking a little confused. „Showing you that I’m not innocent“ she said smiling sweetly. She took his hand and was on her way to tie em‘ as she looked at Hyunjin to silently ask for consent. Her boyfriend nodded and she kept going. Once he was all tied up y/n got on top of him again. She started to kiss his neck going down to his collarbone,spreading hickeys all over. She then admired her piece of art and smiled. Once she was done with that she slowly moved her hips back and forth,casually grinding against her boyfriends clothes dick. He hissed and y/n softly bit her lip in pleasure. She bend down to him a little more, connecting their lips again and making out with him. Sometimes she slightly moaned into the kiss to tease him a little,knowing well that he liked the soft,sweet,loving sounds she made. Y/n smiled as she was able to feel something hard under her sensitive spot. She grinds a few more times,enjoying the feeling and then getting off again. She then picked something from the nightstand again not showing her boyfriend what it was. She sat down next to him onto the bed showing him what she got. She held a few special toys in her hands. She laid them down again softly kissing her boyfriend and then whispering „I hope you’ll enjoy watching ur baby~“ against his lips. She sat back down,sliding her underwear to the side,revealing her wet pussy. She started to casual touch herself with her bare fingers, enjoying how her boyfriend watched her touching herself. After a few minutes she grabbed a vibrator and at first only lined it up and down her more than just wet folds. She then pushed it in,moaning softly. She started to move it in and out throwing her head back and rolling her eyes to the back of her head. She then pressed the toy onto her clit using her fingers to satisfy her. She could hear her boyfriend whimper as she started to moan more and more. „Please baby let me touch you~“ he cried out making y/n chuckle. „Oh no you wanna touch me? Too bad that I’m having that much fun with myself right now…wanna see how much I enjoy it?“. She then sets the vibration level to the highest while still holding it against her clit,sometimes moving it down her pussy,pushing it inside. As her moaning started to get more loud and more intense she looked her tied up boyfriend directly into the eyes. She sticks two fingers into her moving them in and out of herself while moaning extremely. As she started to curl her fingers inside of her,it became too much for her and it send her over the edge. She came with a high pitched moan,still not looking anywhere else than in Hyunjins eyes. After she came down from her high she laid her fingers on her heat,coating it with her essence. She then teasingly licked and sucked her finger moaning as she was tasting herself. „Its tasting so good baby~ you want a taste?“ she said smiling at him. Her boyfriend just nodded at her making y/n grin. „Then enjoy it baby~“

She crawled over to him placing each leg beside his body. Then she placed a kiss on his cheek before placing herself above his head. Her boyfriend hungrily tried to reach her wich made her giggle. „pathetic.“ she said as she sat down on his face. In an instand he started to eat her out like she was the last eatable thing in the world. He kept on sticking his tongue into her while,not even purposely,softly rubbing her clit with his nose. „mhh Hyunjin~“ she moaned out,hearing the dirty and wet sounds her boyfriend made while eating her out. She couldn’t hold herself back anymore and hold onto the headboard of the bed while starting to grind on his face. Hyunjin moaned as she did that,sending more pleasure to his girlfriend. She started to grind harder and faster. Her boyfriend tried to catch all of the leaking juice from her,loving the taste of her. She then grinds more softly,hands moving to her breasts softly touching them. She teasingly looked down at her boyfriend,knowing how much he wished he could touch them right now. Suddenly her boyfriend started to move his tongue in and out of her in an impressive quick pace. „Fuck Baby~“ she said holding onto the headboard again. Her legs started to shake while she kept on making such sweet whiny sounds. As she came close to her second climax today she held Hyunjins head in place,grinding again. Her boyfriend still kept on licking her,trying to give her as much pleasure as possible. She kept on moaning faster and faster,breathing faster,grinding harder,low-key pushing herself really hard onto her boyfriends face. She came with an loud scream still grinding while recovering from her intense orgasm. Hyunjin was licking up the leaking liquids again,moaning a little bit from her taste. She then lets go of his head,breathing heavily. She wasn’t even able to move much because of how hard she came so she only sat down on her boyfriends chest. Her liquids kept on leaking onto Hyunjin chest but either of them cared about it. „You did so good baby,fuck“ she said,bending down to him kissing him. She could still taste herself on his tongue. She patted his head softly. „I guess it’s time to please you now right?“ she didn’t even wait for him to respond and just kept going. She went down a little bit and touched her boyfriends dick softly. He immediately whimpered and pulled the chains trying to get free. y/n grinned and touched his tip with her palm,moving it in circle motions. Hyunjin moaned softly while his girlfriend kept on going. The pace of his breath got faster and faster and so did y/n. As her boyfriend started to twitch under her touch,she pressed her hand harder onto his tip and then after a few seconds she removed her hand. Hyunjin moaned and whined in pain. He thrusted his hips into the air as much as he could,being needy for y/n‘s touch. She giggled „awww did you really think I would let you cum that easy?“ Hyunjin looked at her and furrowed his eyebrows saying „please~“. y/n smiled „you wanna cum?“ her boyfriend nodded quickly. „Fine.“ she got on top of her boyfriend,looking down at him watching every single move she made. She looked at him with innocent eyes. She lowered herself on his dick,gasping a little. She got lower and lower until she took him fully. „Fuck~“ she moaned as she started to move. She slowly started to move up and down on him getting used to him. She laid her hands onto his chest and moved faster. As she she kept on moving faster she moved her hands to her boyfriends neck slowly pressing it. He moaned a bit as he felt the pressure. Y/n moved rougher,mostly up and down. She came closer and closer to her high and as she did that she choked Hyunjin harder and harder. She could feel him twitch inside of her as she squeezed his throat hardly. She started to moan faster and faster again,throwing her head back in pleasure. Hyunjin closed his eyes as he came at the same time like y/n ,painting her walls white. He expected y/n to slow down and stop after she came but she didn’t even think about doing it. She would use him as her personal toy tonight.

Y/n kept on moving even tho her legs were shaking already. She moved at the same pace,milking everything out of her boyfriend. She watched her boyfriend as he moaned from the overstimulation,rolling his eyes to the back of his head. Maybe that also was because Y/n choked him as hard as she could because of cumming that hard. She choked him a little less,letting him breath again. Y/n wanted to reach another high so she started to bounce hardly on her boyfriends dick,moving the cum inside her in and out. While she kept on moaning again and choking him more she looked down at her boyfriend. He was completely fucked out,mind foggy. He couldn’t even build a sentence right now. He was still feeling the rush of his previous orgasm,yet not able to calm down from it. He looked up at Y/n,seeing how much she enjoyed it,moaning and almost drooling at the sight under her. Hyunjin kept on twitching inside of her,sending her over the edge again. She screamed,squirming hardly around her boyfriends dick. She then finally slowed down and then got off of his dick. Hyunjin looked at her with a needy look as he was still horny and needy to cum. She smiled and started to jerk him off again. She used her hand and moved it up and down fast,still mostly teasing his tip. When he finally reached his high,she licked the leaking cum off of his tip,same with the cum she had on her fingers. She moaned,showing him that she enjoyed his taste. She gave him a soft kiss on his cheek and removed the chains. Hyunjin sat up and Y/n smiled. „U did a great job bby“ they pecked each other on the lips and then took a warm bubble bath together. While Hyunjin searched for some comfortable clothes,Y/n changed the bedsheets. After that,both of them laid down in their bed,cuddling each other. „I love you so much“ y/n said,looking at her boyfriend with loving eyes. „I love you too“ Hyunjin said,kissing her head. Y/n then fell asleep on Hyunjins chest while he was still watching some shows on the tv.

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fiberslut · 2 years

Text

Apparently the multiverse is real

Chapter 4: God bless America

Masterlist

previous | next

Pairing: the avengers x reader

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so you may find some funny words/sentences or broken grammar in here. I'll say sorry in advance but I've tried my best.

Summary: You accidentally travel to Marvel universe(not earth-616), but luckily you've got your phone with you. You may ask what do you mean luckily, just read this fiction.

I've stayed in the tower for about 2 weeks now. Tony didn't just let me eat, sleep and repeat. Instead, he put me in the training sessions with Natasha and Clint.

"You're doing great Y/N" Natasha winks at me

"I bet you can now beat all of the Widows out there" Clint pants on the ground

"Well.. I learned from the best" I've trained for 2 hours now but honestly I don't feel tired at all

"I think we should end it for today, Clint and I have some birthday to attend" Natasha says as she walks to the lockers

"Oh, it's Cooper's birthday right?" Yeah I think I can remember Clint's son's birthday

"Yeah. He's turning 23 this year. They just grow so fast" Clint sighs

"Soo.. he's the same age as you, Y/N?" Natasha looks at me teasingly

I know what Natasha try to imply

"Yeah yeah, and stop trying to set me up with him, I'm really not interested in anyone right now" When I was in my world, I would simp over all of these heroes, I mean look at their faces, their arms, their abs. Those comic suits are just super tight. But when I finally met them in real life, I was kinda intimidated. I mean they are real people. There are some differences. Or maybe I just prefer the 2D guys.

"And also I can not leave the tower. You know?" Yes, I can say that Tony is imprisoned me. He got this new security system that I can not hack. It would change its own password every time if someone typed the wrong password.

"Well, you two have fun ok? Maybe bring some leftover cake in for tomorrow too" I say and waving them a goodbye

And now I was left alone again.

I walked to my room, took a cold shower, and now I'm lying in my bed, playing with my phone. I don't know if my phone has some bugs or if it wasn't meant for multiversal traveling but my battery has been 100% all along since I arrived here. But I guess it's a good thing because of course I didn't bring any chargers with me. And yes I did try to find some charger, but it looks like in this universe, no one knows about my phone brand.

I wonder what would happen in my real world, is my mom gonna be shocked if she couldn't find me in my bedroom the next morning? who's gonna do my laundry? what if my professor gives me F for not attending classes?

As I was drowning in my own thought. My bedroom door swung open.

"What do you want Tony?"

"Get ready, we're going out"

"Where? Can we just go tomorrow? I'm super tired right now?"

"Do you want to go back to your universe or not?"

"Say no more pops" I jump out of my bed and run to my walk-in closet to start throwing some clothes on me

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

At the Avengers mansion

"Why did I have to live in that tower when you have this big a** mansion?" I turn to Tony as I can see how big the Avengers mansion is

"You didn't tell me you want to live here"

"Well. I didn't know that YOU who already has a gigantic tower in the middle of the city would have another enormous mansion in the same city too"

"And you said you know everything about everyone"

Tony really tests me so much lately.

"Well Tony Stark in my universe only has a tower and it has been sold to Reed Richard now"

"That is nonsense, why would I sell MY tower to that man? Smartest man alive? My a**, did you know that he kick me out of the Illuminati? My own secret team? that son of a bi***"

"Language. Tony. There are a lot of minors living here according to my good memories about the Avengers mansion"

"Yeah, and today we're visiting one of them too"

"Who?" I have no idea what Tony's planning to do

"First. Let's go inside"

Tony scans his eye to the door and the access granted. We walk inside the mansion. And I am just speechless. It is sooo big and so gorgeous. It's giving the old money vibe. Nothing says Tony Stark. No hi-tech monitor, no talking security system.

"Wait here" Tony says and walks into another room

I sit on a couch and look at the picture near it. It was a picture of the Young Avengers. Wow, they're not anything like the Young Avengers from where I'm from. They're comic accurate I would say.

"Is she here yet little hawkeye?" I can hear Tony's voice from another room

"She's upstairs, I'll text her, and stop calling me that. My name is Kate" I guess that would be Kate Bishop who's Tony talking to

Whoosh!

Ouch. What is that noise? It is so loud.

"Stop doing that inside of the house. Your portal is burning the carpet again" Kate scolds

Portal?

Oh my god. How could I never think of her in the first place?

Then Tony walks back to the room I'm sitting in.

"Here. Y/N. Let's meet America Chavez"

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

So now America Chavez is the 3rd person who knows about me coming from another universe.

"Can you really bring me back to my universe?" I ask her

"Yes. I never fail" She answers proudly

"Then.. what're we waiting for?" Tony adds

"You want me to open a star portal here? In this room Mr.Stark?"

America asks and looks at the other room with a concerned look

"Yeah you're right, let's go outside, is the backyard ok?" He asks

"That'll do sir"

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In the backyard

"ok Y/N, are you ready?" America asks

"ok, I'm ready. Let's do it" I hold my breath as she holds my hand

Then she tries to punch something in the air for about 2-3 times

"Why is it not working?" She asks herself

"What do you mean it's not working? You said you can control it now young lady" Tony asks

"And I mean it sir. This week, I've been traveling through a lot of universes" America panicked and look at her hand, still trying to create a portal by punching the air

"Hey. It's ok. I'm not in a hurry" I try to calm her down

"Y/N, wait here for me ok?" She says and lets go of my hand. She closes her eye and punches the air again. Now there it is. A star portal.

"See? sir. I can really control it. I can open a portal. This is a portal to my universe" She talks to Tony

"What about her universe?" Tony means mine

"I don't know sir. I can't open a portal to her universe. It's like I can't reach her universe. It's like her universe is not in the same system as ours"

Taglist

@ayoelouise

@potatopfft

@welconme-notreally

@niccino-apino

@emily-roberts

@local-mr-frog

#the avengers x you #the avengers x reader #the avengers x y/n #tony stark x daughter #imagine #doctor strange x reader #steve rogers x reader #peter parker x reader #bucky barns x reader #natasha x reader #clint x reader #amercia chavez #kate bishop #young avengers

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indigo474 · 10 months

Text

July 4th

im seeing James today and i regret agreeing to it.

I don't regret going- had a great session. I'm going to go to the park and trip - waiting for the tide to change- i'd like to sit by the beach. I'm caught up in my feeling once again. sex. he would withhold sex as a way to punish me. and when we did have sex it was horrible. over in 2 seconds, no foreplay. he'd eat me once in a while but complain the whole time and act like he was doing me a huge favor. i had no idea hand jobs were a thing. no idea. and the saddest part is i put up with it for years- and i cheated on him and always felt incredible guilty. i would plead and beg and he told me there was something wrong with me.. people divorce over sex. a stronger person would have divorced him and not cheated. what happens if a partner asks me if i ever cheated.. if i'm honest it makes me a horrible person..unlovable.. BUT i can justify the cheating.. i have an excuse.. there was a reason, im not really a horrible person.. i was,but i'm not anymore.. laughable- it wasnt just sex, there was no affection, there was nothing.. he wouldnt even kiss me. the good news is, i never have to put up with that bullshit again. i feel like i ruined myself by watching porn and using toys. I knew it was going to happen.. i knew i wouldn't be able to orgasm with a partner. so, last night was the time in maybe years i didn't use porn or toys .. i used a little porn but shut it down because it wasnt helping.. that's another thing ive had to watch more graphic porn to get off.. i was able to get off, it took forever but felt more intense than any toy sooo.. i felt bad for my friend because he tried so hard. i explained to him what was going on. I just could NOT fake it.. he would have known.. any fucking man would know.

I am currently running a 3k. I'll be running a 5k by the fall.. very slow.. i want to take off and run as fast as i can.. nope gotta slow it down.. progress..

I'm not going to take mushrooms today. i dont have the mental strength to do so. I think i have post sex depression. i'm gonna go for a run instead of taking mushrooms. I'll make a veggie stir fry and shower and call it a day.

We aren't meant to be broken forever- this hit me hard. sometimes i feel like i will be broken forever-i mean, i feel less broken today than i felt 1 year ago- it gets different. different levels of healing take place. it's been nice to have my apartment to myself- i love my daughter but this is a small place with no where to go to escape each other. Her schedule has changed so we are home together more than we have ever been. it's not always easy. she's depressed and anxious and lashes out. ive enjoyed today- writing.. trying to sort things out in my head. i'm looking forward to tomorrow and seeing this house. its around the corner from me. exciting and scared and wow- hard to believe where i am. ANDDD i'm not going for a run.. tomorrow.. i lifted heavy today and my legs are starting to hurt and i dont feel like being around people. i want to hide away from the world..

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thisisjustafiller · 2 years

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food log and babble

6/1

oops i posted this earlier when it was meant to be a draft. i didn’t eat anything else so eh kind of doesn’t matter.

9:30AM: coffee

1:00PM: chocolate covered blueberries (130)

4:00PM: rice and fake crab, black coffee (400)

total: 530

gonna see about bumping that number up tomorrow. just got home from work, i’m tired and honestly not hungry. i was thinking about having a slice of pizza from work (340, not bad at all) but it got tossed before i could get to it. oh well. i’m just happy i know the cals for it so i can have a slice if ever i want it again.

work was good, can’t complain. my knees started hurting a little towards the last 15 minutes but other than that e z p z.. now i have a tarot order to do before bed and then nothing on my schedule until sunday.

i’ve begun microwave shopping with the boyf now that he’s on his own in our condo, as he wants one so we can meal prep and heat things up easily. mostly to save time/have less of an interruption during most days, but also for dieting. he always tells me what he eats and shows pictures, and he is not eating enough at all. i talked to him about it today and told him to beef it up a bit because he’s getting into disordered territory (he already does body check photos and calls them such, has been prone to under eating and has toyed with multiday fasting), and he tells me not to worry and that he’ll be getting a nutritionist soon so he doesn’t fall into bad habits. he plans on getting one through the gym he wants to join, but he may go back to his previous one if that falls through. she did a pretty good job last time. in the mean time i’ve convinced him to up his quantities a bit for tomorrow. the dude has a bmr of 1800 and is eating around 900. jfc dude. it’s bad enough i have someone else that i’m always talking out of taking too much lax to purge and dealing with that, i don’t need him going off the rails too. and no, neither of these people are aware of what i’m up to in analand. i’m sure to eat normally in front of ms lax, and in front of my dude too when we’re in person with each other.

i wonder if i can ever undo this damage i’ve done to my eating patterns. the entire two weeks i had my dude here i kept thinking “once this is over i can starve again” every time food or beverage hit my lips. i might have really done it this time. i’ll revisit this thought in 50lbs.

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ivyorion · 3 years

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warlock playin with and then swallowing an entire hikari crab cuisine sinking pellet. any suggestions on how to prevent this would be appreciated hahaha xx

edit: i put in another shrimp pellet last night after I turned the light off and warlock didn't notice. It was gone in the morning but idk who ate it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#he's gonna have to fast tomorrow because he was not meant to eat that #warlock you actual menace #warlock #shrimp shack #betta fish #planted tank #aquarium

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t0shii · 3 years

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Hiiiiii :D can I request angst to fluff with Bokuto suna and Kyotani where their s/o wanted some food/snakes in the middle of the night so instead of waking the guys up they go by themselves to Store and the guys wake up looking for them and get scared/mad when they can’t find them

ღ — when they wake up alone

.! timeskip! bokuto, suna, kyotani (sep) x gn!r

.! angst + fluff/ lots of cursing, mentions of eating; not proofread

.! oh wow... i will totally write this for you 😈😈 ty for the request & hope you enjoy- these turned out pretty lengthy huh?

bokuto

bokuto is absolutely beside himself when he wakes up and your side of the bed is cold and empty. quickly he sits up and calls your name, "y/n?? y/n, baby?" no response the crease in his brows deepening with the frown on his lips. "must he in the bathroom or something" he mumbles to himself, clumsily getting out of your shared bed and walking fast to the bathroom down the hall. he knocks on the door quietly, "babe, you in there?" he waits a few seconds before opening the door, only to find the room dark and empty. now he's feeling really nervous, where the hell were you? 'the kitchen?' he thinks but when he gets there it too is empty, he basically tears the whole house apart looking for you, no where to be found. maybe you left him? finally got tired of his immature personality, maybe you just couldn't stand to be with him another minute- even as he slept.

the negative thoughts plagued his brain, so much so in fact, he hadn't even heard the front door of your shared apartment open, or the thud of your snacks hitting the hardwood floor. he hadn't even noticed you make your way toward him, "bokuto, baby, what's wrong?" his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, "y/n? you're back?" he reaches out for you and you stand there hugging him as he sat on the couch, "yeah, i couldn't sleep so i went to get snacks. why are you crying though? did you have a nightmare?" you run your hands through his hair and it calms him down almost immediately. "n-no but i reached for you and you were gone and t-then i couldn't find you anywhere.... i-i thought you left me for good." he hiccups, you feel guilt creep up your chest at his words. "oh bo, baby no! i just didn't wanna wake you since you have a match tomorrow." he sighs, arms wrapping around you tighter, "please just wake me up next time, you really scared me." you promise you won't leave the house without telling him from now on and cheer him up with some of the snacks you bought, and kisses of course.

suna

suna's first feeling is disappointment as he reaches over to pull your body closer to his, still half asleep, but is met with an empty space. he's annoyed but doesn't think too much about it, you probably had use the bathroom or something so you'd be back in no time. it's only when he realizes too much time has gone by and you still weren't in bed he starts to get really irritated and a little nervous, why weren't you back in bed? he groans, throwing the comforter away from his body and stands from the bed, "y/n where the hell did you go?" his voice his hoarse as he calls out for you checking each room in the apartment, only for them to be empty. he curses to himself as he sits on the couch, plenty of emotions running through his veins. it worried him that he had no clue where you were and it pissed him off that you hadn't said anything before you left. even more though, he couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that maybe you left with the purpose of never coming back- it made him uneasy.

he hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch in same position he'd sat down in, the sound of the front door opening snapping him awake almost immediately. all he felt was annoyance, it was nearly 2 am and here you were walking through the front door, paper bags in hand. "where the hell did you go?" the question comes out a little harsher than he'd originally wanted it to but he was too tired to care at this point. you flinch at his question, "uhm to the convenience store? i couldn't sleep so i decided to get snacks and you have a game later so i didn't wanna wake you." he rolls his eyes, "so you leave me to wake up alone? i couldn't find you anywhere- i was worried sick. do you only think about yourself or something?" well shit, he hadn't meant to say that last part. you drop your bags to the ground and immediately suna knows he's fucked up big time. "i-i'm sorry, i just didn't want to wake you up b-because-" you were already breathing heavy, tears staining your cheeks and suna has no idea how he can recover from this.

"oh fuck, baby- i didn't mean to- shit i'm so sorry" he inches closer to you and to his surprise you let him embrace you "i didn't mean to snap at you, i swear. i'm just so tired and i was so fucking worried you weren't gonna come back- god i'm so sorry" he hold you tight in his arms, "i'm sorry too rin, i should've at least left a note, but i knew i wasn't gonna be gone for long so i didn't even think about it." you apologize but he only shushes you, "still, i should have never snapped at you." you nod against his chest, "you really worried me though, i thought that- you know what it doesn't matter, you're back now. let's eat those snacks you brought back, yeah?" the two of you spend the rest of the night eating the snacks you bought and suna holds you close and tight like you'll fade away if he doesn't.

kyotani

kyotani is a heavy sleeper, especially after a long set and he's definitely not a morning person- no matter the time he's woken up. so when he wakes up you side of the bed empty and cold, he already feels him becoming agitated. he rolls over to check his phone, 3:52 am, "what the fuck, y/n" the grumbles, "y/n." he yells, loud but no response, "of course you're gonna make me get up." he scoffs. firstly he searches the living room, he knew that oftentimes, you had trouble sleeping and knowing he hated to be woke up, you would sneak into the living room to watch tv until you were sleepy again but of course you weren't there. you weren't in the kitchen either, and he didn't find you in the bathroom nor on the balcony. kyotani checks his phone, no texts no calls, nothing. he rolls his eyes and throws himself onto the couch refusing to text or call you out of his own stubborn national, plus, what if you were driving? he turns on the tv to distract himself from the pit of anxiety bubbling in his belly, nothing can really stop his thoughts from running wild though, he can't shake the feeling that you weren't coming back and had left him for good, finally tired of his- well everything about him, really.

he thoughts are interrupted when he hears the front door open, relieved to see your face but angry as he remembers you'd left without a word. he frowns standing up to meet you at the front door, apparently you weren't expecting him because you flinch as he makes his presence known by clearing his throat, "oh fuck- kyo you scared me! why are you awake?" he scoffs "oh i scared you? well at least you didn't wake up to an empty house at nearly four am" his tone has you frowning, "i didn't wake you up because you'd be upset with me and i knew you needed rest after your show from earlier." his face softens but still he rolls his eyes and glances at the bags in your hands. "whatever, what's in the bags?" he takes them from you and sets them on the island counter, "i couldn't sleep so i went to get snacks." you follow him to the kitchen, "i got your favorite too." if he was still annoyed before he definitely wasn't anymore, did he even deserve the snacks? he'd just snapped at you minutes earlier. he grunts in acknowledgment, "c'mon, we can eat together, kyo. i'll put on a movie." you grab his hand in one hand and the bags of snacks in the other and lead him to the living room where you both lay on the couch.

his silence is all too loud as you put on a movie you both enjoy, "kyo, is something wrong?" kyotani can't help the tears that form in his eyes as he embraces you tightly, "i was worried about you, you brat. why'd you leave without telling me? you coulda left me a text or something." you're stunned at his sudden outburst, "i was only gone for 30 minutes, kentaro... but still i'm sorry, i should've left a note, but i didn't think you'd wake up while i was gone?" you rub his back and chuckle, "did you miss me that much, baby?" he shakes his head as best he can while it's in the crook of your neck, "i thought you weren't gonna come back." his confession surprises you, "oh... why would i not come back? i love you too much to leave for good." you grin, "really?" "really". the both of you spend the rest of the dark hours of the morning watching movies and eating the snacks you bought all while in a tight embrace.

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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A12 and A15 with ceo!harry while he’s on a business trip - 😎

A12 - Video Sex + A15 - Mutual Maturbation

—

Harry was miserable. He didn’t mind business trips when he got to bring his little family along with him but he couldn’t this time.

Ivy had a pediatrician appointment schedule for a vaccine and check-up that they decided they didn’t want to move the date of.

It had been a six days at this point and he was homesick like a child.

Hotel rooms weren’t fun unless his daughter’s toys were splayed everywhere or his wife’s makeup bag anymore.

He’s at what feels like the millionth business dinner of the week and had gotten sick of all this eating out - missed his wife’s cooking.

YN could always tell with him, when he was getting lonely, sad, frustrated with his job and she always knew what to do to make him feel better.

Harry was upset because by the time he got back to his room, Ivy would already be asleep and he didn’t get to see her at all today.

He is washing his face in the hotel bathroom when he blindly answers his wife’s facetime request as he soaps up his face.

“Hi, m’heart,” Harry rasps, trying to avoid soap in his mouth.

When all he hears is a buzzing and a feathery moan, his eyes widen and he darts to look at his screen, a loud groan automatically leaving his mouth.

“Baby,” He scolds, wiping off his face as fast as possible to pull the phone up closer to get a better look

And….fuck how did he get so lucky?

Did he ever think the waitress he ran into so many years ago would one day be facetiming with a purple little bullet on her clit as she writhes on their martial bed?

He didn’t think he could ever be that lucky but somehow he managed.

“Miss you,” She moans quietly, hitching her hips up to met the vibrations of the small but powerful toy.

Her cunt was positively glistening with arousal and his mouth was watering as the bullet fit between her puffy folds.

“My love, wha’s brought this on?” Harry wonders, tugging off the briefs he’d just pulled on after changing into clean ones.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” She scolds between pants as she pinches at her nipple hard just like Harry would.

“Aw, sweetheart. D’it get you tha’ worked up?”

They were referring to a picture that Harry had sent earlier when he’d woken up hard and without his wife.

It was his tattooed hand, wedding ring shining, grasping his thick length through his thin underwear fabric.

“Show me,” YN orders with a needy edge, slowing down her strokes against her bud - which meant she was getting close.

“Of course, gonna show y’what’s yours, right baby?” He hisses as he wraps a tight fist around himself, positioning them phone so he’s in view.

“H, talk to me. I’m close.”

Harry chuckles, “What d’you want me to talk about? How much I love your cunt? Your folds that tuck all your best parts away and how you cry when I spread y’open with my tongue?”

Her movements are getting erratic and Harry’s become rougher on his own length.

“Or how pretty y’arse is? Watch it jiggle when I give you a good smack. Or your thighs? Just want to sink my teeth into them all the time.”

“M’cl-close,” YN tells him, nearly a whisper, as she lets go of her nipple to grip the sheets with her free hand.

“C’mon, dovie. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be comin’ on my cock, right?” He goads, grunting as he starts to feel the tighten of his release.

It’s not long before they’re both reaching their ends together and then whisper soft devotions of love and talks about their day.

YN may not give Harry a taste of his own medicine the next day when she sends him a picture first thing in the morning with her hand tucked down the front of her panties - only the slightest sight of her trimmed pubic hair is enough to have Harry getting off in the shower before his first meeting.

Yeah, he was that fucking easy for his wife.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #ceo!harry #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #ceo!harry blurb #ceo!harry masterlist

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kookiecrumb · 2 years

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pjm|| Track 5

wc: 6.4K

summary: Graduating from the dance program reveals the daunting reality that you're growing up fast. Leave it to Park Jimin to remind you that you won't have to face it alone.

tags: soulmate!au, oneshot, dancestudent!jimin x fem!dancestudent!y/n, fluff, smut, slight angst, friends(?) to lovers, y/n is mean and a little thick-headed, crack towards the end

warnings: existentialism, explicit language, sMUT (18+)~ (pretty switchy), oral (m&f receiving), begging, brief nippleplay, butt-touchin'!, penetration, safe sex

a/n: Dear Korea anon, here you go. For you :)

You knew the subject of soulmates would come up someday between you and your mom. It'd be weird for her not to ask.

"It's...I mean, I don't know who's going to be mine. You think he already knows me?" You take a break from cutting your fruit and turn your head up toward her.

"Probably not. In three days, you'll find out," she says, tapping her pen against her notepad. "If he's ugly, at least you've got your career going for you."

You don't appreciate the joke.

Some people believe the Ancient Greek theory about soulmates, about how when humans were made, they were made in pairs and the gods feared them. Others believe the theory that God created an androgynous soul that He then split into two, Adam, and Eve.

Either way, every one, since the beginning of human history, had a biological soulmate to whom they belong to. It helped some, hurt others. Personally, you enjoyed the thought of someone meant for you in this way. It comforted you that no matter how difficult life got, you would eventually have someone to count on.

"I don't know about that, ma. The spring recital is coming up and I heard that they're picking soloists this week," you gently pour your freshly-halved strawberries into a small bowl. "I don't know if I'm gonna do it this year."

She shrugs. "Up to you. You're just about graduated from that class. You should be thinking about auditions." Shit. Auditions. Truth be told, you hadn't even picked out a single one of your songs. It wasn't because you were indecisive.

Once you've picked out that song, it would mean the end of your time at that school. You'd have to accept the looming reality of getting older.

That's deep. You just wanted to eat your fruit and now you're having an existential crisis over the kitchen counter. I mean, it's a transitional stage of life. No matter what, the only way to go is forward.

Satisfied with your thought, you pop a berry into your mouth hole and crash on the couch. Before long, you're passed out in your clothes taking the most transcendental nap ever.

It isn't long before you stretch awake, and it's dark outside. Shadows wash the living room, painting it a calm blue. Taking your backpack in your hand, you ascend from the couch and shuffle towards the stairs.

When the house is empty like this, you're reminded of how a home is made from those who thrive within it. Now, it is a shell. Your work as a performer was to introduce life into these spaces. Maybe that could be something you tell the choreographer tomorrow.

Step by step, you disappear up the stairs. You'll stress about the details tomorrow.

Is it weird that you love stretches? While you stretch, you like to imagine you are an instrument getting in tune within a symphony. Every one of your teammates has a unique sound, and when you all play in harmony, it creates a display anyone would marvel at. The catch is you guys have to actually practice the routine first.

You flip open the cap to your water bottle and take a big gulp before rising to your feet from butterfly position.

"Y/N. Y/N, look," the petite girl who stretches behind you calls. "You've got mail." She says with a smile, referring to a small note on the inside of your forearm.

"Hm…?" You examine them, finding a tiny inscription upon your skin in a red glitter pen.

I've been thinking about what to say to you. I could never settle on just one thing. - Your one and only.

"That's so vague," you breathe. You can't write back just yet, seeing that you haven't turned 20 yet. Still, the choice of pen intrigued you. Did he think he was some kind of magician? Did he not have a black ink pen? Who knows.

At the front of the studio, the instructor raises their voice and begins instruction. Your attention is transferred onto her, disregarding everything else for the time being. You'll anticipate more messages later.

While munching on your sub, you look to see that the note on your forearm has faded quite a bit, as if your soulmate had washed his hands. At least he's hygienic. His handwriting is neat and bubbly. It wasn't dragged or rushed. From what you know about graphology, this means that your soulmate is punctual, organized, and kind-hearted.

He's yet to mention his name. That's pretty common these days. He probably wants to get to know you a little better through writing to you until a certain date, typically a milestone or anniversary.

The students surrounding you begin to pack their things and prepare for their next period class, so you finish up whatever you had left and throw away your scraps before walking to science.

Why your counselor decided to put you in AP Physics senior year, you have no idea. The concepts were easy to understand, though, so you generally did well if the material was explained somewhat comprehensively by the teacher.

Reaching down into your bag, you realize that your entire pencil case was missing. With a groan, you recall leaving it on top of your dresser. You can't get up while the teacher's talking, that's rude.

"Hey. Hey!" Jimin whispers. He slides a pencil onto your desk. It's a long, yellow, Dixon Ticonderoga pencil with a pristine pink eraser. Of course it is.

He's perfect, always greeting people with a brilliant smile, usually at a charity or community service event. You have to acknowledge that he's hardworking. In fact, he's ranked first in the entire school, but it was a little too much in your opinion. You wonder if he has any hobbies.

Well, you know for a fact he does, he's in the same contemporary dance program as you are. Even his hobbies are perfect. It didn't feel genuine though. It's as if Park Jimin is using his academics to cope with something traumatic. You don't want to get in his way, but life will shove him in your way anyways.

The fates are spiteful.

"Uh, thanks." You grip the pencil and begin writing down the notes.

"Oh, you can just take a picture of mine," he passes over his notebook. Miraculously, he's already copied down the board and is busying himself with a worksheet from another class.

"Thanks…" you say, soberly. You snap the picture and hand the book back. You don't bother to actually look at the notes. You're sure that you won't even look at them later. So what's the point of having them? It's self-assurance.

"Of course," he sings. "Y/N, can I ask you something?" He inquires. That's new.

"Sure, what is it?" You sort through the papers in your binder, looking for your formula sheet.

"When's your birthday?" He pouts, holding his head in his hand.

"Wednesday, why?"

"And you're like, going to write to your soulmate then, right?"

"Mhm. Why?"

"Do you think you have any sort of idea as to who they are?" Now you're annoyed. Would it be far too much to ask to have Park Jimin mind his own business about who the literal love of your life will be?

You close your eyes and take a deep breath in. "No. I don't, but I'll find out then."

Jimin's mouth forms a silent "o." He grants you peace, returning to his quiet studies.

Afterschool rehearsal has been extended today, to allow time for those who want to audition for a solo to practice. It's pouring out.

Some students are discussing routines quietly in small groups. Others are scattered across the floor doing their own thing. Against the backdrop of tepid rain, the figures appear as graceful silhouettes which move like flames, shaded by the studio walls that shelter them.

You add your bag to the pile.

Leaning on his hands, observing the rain quietly, Jimin mouths a sweet melody. He nods his head, leaning back on his palms. You ponder his current contemplation. His thoughtful expression transforms as he smirks back at you.

Your eyes widen. How embarrassing.

"Y/N, have you decided on whether or not you're going to audition?" You were so caught up embarrassing yourself, you hadn't noticed the instructor was making rounds.

"Uhm, no. I haven't decided yet, Ms.Loom," you say, regretfully.

"And you, Jimin? Have you decided?" She points her pencil towards the young man.

Jimin shook his head. "Not yet, Ms.Loom. Sorry," he tsked.

Ms.Loom grasps her clipboard, marking on it before moving on to the next group.

You're finally home after a long day, and you wish you didn't have to hear another person talk for the rest of your life.

Throwing your hoodie off, you undo your bra and groan into the pillow, collapsing onto your bed. "Fuckkkk," you whine.

You turn to lay on your back, your fingers tracing your intermammary cleft, below your chest. You feel something slightly rough that disconcerts you. Frightened, you sit up and look at your fingers. Red glitter pen.

Using your phone as a mirror, you take a picture of what's written.

I'd kiss you here.

Smug.

Stripping off your shorts to shower, you spot another on the inside of your thigh.

Here too.

The audacity of this guy. With a coy smile, you get in the shower and attempt to get the glitter out.

You understand why he went with a glitter pen. Even after showering-- suds and everything-- you continue to find glitter on your body.

It's like a silent claim. That every time you catch the glimmer of red against your skin, you're reminded of who your soul belongs with. He's indubitably clever. It enthralls you greatly, wondering what other sexy ideas he has in that beautiful mind of his.

The next morning, you're walking past the arts building on your way to French when you spot something new posted on the bulletin board from the dance department. It reads: "Spring Recital Solo and Ensemble sign-ups." You weren't aware there was a sign up sheet!

Snapping open your silver sharpie, you go down the line to find a space to write your name, only to find it has already been written on there…next to Park Jimin's name, as a duet, in Ms.Loom's handwriting.

You snap the cap back on your marker and make a mental note to see her during lunch. She must be nutty or something.

It's not like Jimin outskilled you when it came to dance. You've dedicated years of your life to the perfection of the techniques you use, and got into the most prestigious dance program in the province. You've won countless awards, performing at endless events, invited to endless more. Performing at the school Spring Recital next to Park Jimin would be a formality, but you can't help but question if the duet is necessary.

Ms.Loom quietly organizes her papers at her desk while you talk. "Oh, no he requested it," she says, nonchalantly. "He told me he talked to you about it."

"Well, that talk never happened," you explain, hugging your duffel bag in your lap.

"Hm. I've already printed out all of the pamphlets," she sighs. "Are you totally against the idea of working together? I happen to think you'd make quite the power couple."

You aren't totally against the idea. It was just a little rude of him to sign you guys up without even asking you first. Is he that confident that you'd say yes? "I mean, no. I just wish he would have asked first."

Ms.Loom shrugs. "We have another long rehearsal tomorrow, talk to him about it then."

Actually, you have quite the history with Jimin. When you've got the same drive for success in the world of dance, you end up spending a lot of time next to each other because you're always signing up for the same competitions and contests.

You first started to recognize him at a workshop in your third year of middle school. He took off his glasses when he danced, but even without them you could tell he was an uber nerd.

He could move, though.

Jimin moved like water running over stones in a busy brook. He felt the moment, and used his body to express feelings you couldn't define, but you felt too, as you watched him.

"How do you dance like that?" You asked as he grabbed his water bottle from the edge of the stage.

"Huh?" He panted. He plucked out his earpiece, asking you to repeat the question he hadn't heard.

"How do you dance like that, so well?" You repeated.

He shrugged, and after struggling with the question for a bit, said: "It's like the only way I can properly, like, express myself."

It is.

Jimin completes his assignments as instructed, writes his essays according to the rubric, including a rough draft, but music and dancing is his refuge from the anxiety of such a rigorous academic schedule.

His soulmate must be just like him, you think. His soulmate must be someone so perfect, just like him. She must be just as sweet, just as smart, just as talented as him. She must be organized and artistic and kind, bubbly and bright…Someone you'd only ever be in your dreams.

You rise from your bed and sit, waiting for your thoughts to compose. With a sniff, you toss yourself out of bed and put on your clothes as if it were just another day. Your mother is still asleep, so you try not to wake her as you snatch the keys from their holder.

You only have to drive a few minutes before parking, grabbing your bag from the back, walking through the studio doors, and flicking on the lights.

A breath of fresh air fills your lungs as you take in the emptiness of the liminal space before you. Without much thought, you put your things down and get in position to perform one of your favorite routines from last year's competition.

You imagine the music, come up on the upbeat, and begin your dance.

You recall the day you felt that worry disappear from your mind. You're brought back to the moment. Releasing the tensions of the passing year, you celebrate your life through your dance.

It is finally time for you to begin the rest of your life. You will meet the love of your life today. Just as you did with the anxiety you felt that day on stage, you step forward into the sun's morning light and accept the gift that today brings you.

Assuming your final position, you let go of your breath and rise to your feet to collect your things. The sweet scent of citrus undefined by fresh linen lingers in the studio. You hear a sigh.

"I'm sorry," Jimin nods. "Were you upset about it? Me signing us up as a duet?"

Turning your head up, you're greeted by him, wearing a simple button down with a delicate chain. His cuffs are undone, and hands sink into his pockets, visibly fidgeting. His eyes rise to meet yours.

"I really am. I thought you wouldn't mind." He pauses. Realizing you were staring, you shake your head.

"I don't mind, Jimin. We've danced together a lot."

He arises from his leaning position and shrugs. "Good, that you wouldn't mind." His lips part slightly, his eyes falling upon your face and softening. "You're twenty today, you haven't written."

How could he know that? Your heart jumps. He couldn't have known that yet, right?

"Your arms are bare," he gestures. Oh.

"Haven't had the chance," you pout. You're terribly unprepared as to what to say. Between your studies and dance, you just hadn't composed a proper introduction.

"Really? Well, that's okay," he says, a pang of disappointment in his voice.

You cock an eyebrow. There he goes again, so concerned about this soulmate shit. Jimin's birthday has already passed, like a month ago. From what you can tell, he hasn't mentioned anything about it to anyone, once.

"And yours? Your arms are bare. Have you talked to yours?" You point to his wrists. He takes them out of his pocket.

Snap.

Something like a pen hits the ground.

The both of you hold eye contact. Your cheeks get hot. Something of your deepest instinct tells you not to look down. He challenges that by switching between looking at you and the pen.

"Could you get that for me, Y/N?" He points to it.

You can't believe this guy. What a tease. He's going to make it so obvious that you can't avoid it ever again.

"How did you know? When did you know?"

"How did I know the girl with her arms covered in red glitter coming out of the girl's dressing rooms who I've known for fifteen years was my soulmate?" The question did sound ridiculous when he worded it like that. He didn't have to embarrass you, though.

He bends to pick up the pen and hands it to you. Sure enough, it's a shimmery red glitter pen with a cotton tip. You pop open the tip and stain your own hand with the ink. You watch, stupefied as the mark emerges in the exact spot as yours.

"But we're totally platonic," he says, quickly. "You and I just don't have that vibe, right?"

You're taken aback. "Wait, why are you switching up?" This was the same dude who wrote sweet nothings on your body just two days ago.

He purses his lips. "I don't know, are you ready for that kind of thing?"

He's kind of right. If you rushed a relationship like that, it could just blow up in both of your faces. But that wasn't supposed to happen in soulmate relationships. You knew soulmates who met and got married on the spot.

You hadn't asked yourself if you were ready for something like that yet. You probably aren't. "Just don't dismiss it like that." You say with half-confidence.

"When you've been dismissing me this entire time?" He replies with lowered eyes.

"Well, now it's different, isn't it? You and I are fated." You can imagine why he'd be hurt. You haven't exactly been the kindest towards him, but those feelings came mostly out of envy.

He sucks his teeth. "Sure," he says, after some contemplation. "I'm just surpris--"

Ms.Loom stumbles in the door, cradling a stack of binders. Jimin flashes you a look and moves to help her.

"You are BOTH early, that is against school policy…" she huffs as Jimin takes a few notebooks off her hands. "But! I'll let it slide since you're seniors."

"Happy birthday, Y/N!" She speed-walks past you with Jimin trailing her. He rolls his eyes into a smile.

You walk to the door to let the others inside the studio. The bell rings sharply, causing you to cringe. Fuck, that was so loud.

Afterschool, you glance down to your arm during stretches. A note written in Jimin's handwriting, in a blue glitter pen materializes. What, did he have a set or something? It reads:

Date at Carbonara's later, I reserved a table. I'll pick you up at 7?

You perk your head up and meet Jimin's gaze. "Yeah," you mouth. He smiles back, and your heart flutters a little. What the fuck.

Jimin doesn't even try to hide his cheeky smirk as he switches legs. You were looking at him with the cutest puppy eyes just now.

Ms.Loom steps up on her stool and yells, "Okay everyone! Break out into either your small groups or find somewhere to practice your routines for auditions which are this Friday, people. Alright, let's go, let's get this done!" The room scrambles and reassembles in their corresponding groups.

Jimin gestures outside. He wants to visit the studio the theatre kids use. You're not surprised he knows the spot. It's abandoned today. They only use it every other day.

It might be even bigger than the actual dance studio. You figure it's because it's made for bigger productions and dance numbers.

"Why didn't you go into theater?" You ask, setting up the stereo. Jimin makes his way to the center of the room and hums.

"I don't know. Acting isn't me. I perform to let out my real feelings, not hide them." Deep. He's just as cryptic as you are.

"Ah!" You find the plug and place the CD into the compartment, sliding it in. You push play on the first track. You allow a second of it to play before you pause it. "Okay. That works."

You're crouched down, figuring out how to get the two of you where you need to be for Friday night while he's standing there watching. Shit. Upon realizing this, Jimin comes over to see if you need his help.

"I got it! It's track five. Wait," you insist as Jimin crawls on his knees towards you.

"Track five, so…" He trails. "You mean that song?" His eyes widen.

"Hm." You confirm, repeatedly pressing the skip button.

"Y/N, isn't that the one you said you absolutely wouldn't do with me?" He asks.

"People can't change their minds?"

"Only if you want to," he pouts. Come on." He rises to his feet and grips your hand to pull you up.

It's jazz, smooth and sexy, a definite predecessor to the rhythm and blues which dominate modern sex playlists. He knows what this requires of him. He knows the routine from start to finish, and as soon as he steps into position, you see it. He's excited. You hover over his body, in the starting position.

"You can lean on me, if that's comfortable. I don't think Loom's checking groups today," he says in a hushed tone. You readjust yourself, pressing into him slightly.

When the music starts, the two of you glide across the floor in tight harmony, in close, corresponding movement. He loosens his usual meticulous form and embraces you, guiding you with a delicate hand.

"Back," he hums, and you reply by placing your hand over his. His chest expands beneath you, his breath short. A rush of pure adrenaline hits, spurred by his lips hovering on your neck.

The final chord of the song has long been played. You can almost feel the grin on his face. "You didn't miss a beat." He's pleasantly surprised.

You leave his arms and stand before him. That summer you spent at that workshop with him, you'd dream of being held like that. Your eyes would travel across the room, where you found Jimin carefully studying the couple demonstrating the dance, mesmerized by their intimacy. "I liked the song, it's pretty," you say.

"It suits you, then," he teases. You stifle a laugh, shaking your head.

"It does! I swear, it suits us." He rephrases, persistently.

"So now there's an us?" You come close, grasp the collar of his blazer.

"Maybe," he smiles.

"You look all put together but your opinions are like changing seasons," you purr. "Care to pick a side, master of none?"

"Already have, and it's by yours," He replies as the space between the both of you narrows.

His sweetness surrounds you, the softness of his lips causing your spiraling thoughts to subside as he sweeps you into a soft and slow kiss. You're delicate to him. He sighs, collapsing the kiss.

"I, uhm, fuck," he stammers. "I don't think that was part of the dance, Y/N."

"No shit," you laugh. "It's nice though," you peck his pillowy lips. His cheeks glow, his thumb caressing your back timidly.

A light drizzle commences outside, flecks of water cling to the window of the studio, creating the perfect barrier between you and outside. You hesitate before kissing him again, with a dash of excitement. He's taken by surprise, eventually returning your enthusiasm in a heated embrace.

Packing up your toiletry bag, you check yourself in the mirror once more, fixing your hair before leaving the dressing room.

Jimin's having a casual conversation with another classmate, so you give him a smile before heading out and heading home.

You have a date at seven.

Fuck, you have an actual date at seven. On your birthday, with your soulmate. Should you get dolled up? It's an Italian place! Of course you should, but what kind of dolled up?

Questions flood your mind as you shuffle your closet, looking for options. You should have something short and sweet somewhere, but floral would be so out of season.

You settle on something solid-colored with minimal jewelry. You want to keep his focus, even if you're sure you don't even have to try.

Jimin's probably in front of a mirror with his tie undone, making faces at himself while fixing his hair. You take your eyeliner and begin drawing on your hand.

Jimin…

I'm nervous.

With shaving cream all over his face, Jimin puts the bottle down and glances down at his hand. "Hm," he grunts.

What for? We have reservations.

He's completely missing the point.

No, what if I wear the wrong thing?

Jimin thinks for a moment before scribbling back:

You’d really be beautiful in whatever. You're very pretty, Y/N.

And he means it. You know he does, he wouldn't say so otherwise.

It was always in the back of your mind that Park Jimin had rich parents. He wasn't a trust fund baby, but his folks had some money put away. They were conservative with it.

It's how his parents could afford to send him to an arts school. It's how he's getting his tuition paid in full after next semester. In fact, you know plenty of nice girls who counted down the days to their twentieth with their eyes on Jimin's wrists to see if they would be the recipient of the generous gifts his mother is known for giving out to her daughter-in-laws.

You didn't know how to feel about it. On one hand, you knew that money wasn't everything, but it was nice to have. So when Jimin rides in with his black Mercedes, you crack a smile because of course he does.

Oh, it's romantic! The restaurant is built in the old Italian style with high-hanging sparkling chandeliers to match the sparkling wine that passes in the black and white waiters' silver platters with the tables dressed in white cloth and artisan paintings adorning the walls.

You're on his sturdy arm as he greets the hostess, admiring how he cleaned up since this morning. He put in the effort, and you can tell by how he wants to look good for you.

"Right, Y/N?" He says. Suddenly eyes are on you, and you weren't paying attention.

"Hm?"

"Rooftop is fine, right? If it gets cold I'll give you my jacket," he insists.

"Yeah, rooftop is fine. It's a beautiful night out." And it is. The celestial bodies that ornament the night sky in its unrivaled beauty have found their match in your pearlescent eyes.

So while the wine from his glass taints his lips and his sobriety, he silently dreams of you on his tongue, and while his fingers trace your delicate knuckles he reminisces about the days not yet spent with you.

The conversation is dazzling, topics spanning from familiar to futuristic. Your shared aspirations ignites a fervid discussion of your goals and then you understand.

You understand the determination that he held dear in his heart and where his spirit lies. He's genuine, more genuine than any guy you've ever met. You go through the metanoia of learning that you are close to him through your passion, not only for dance but for life.

You pause, shaking your head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've never been an Italian kind of person," you confess.

"Really? Then why are we here?" Jimin laughs, relieved. To be fair, all this formality wasn't his thing either. While he enjoyed the elegance of having a first date at an Italian restaurant, it was Wednesday, and anywhere with you sounded nice.

"I don't know. Do you want to just cancel the order, head somewhere else?" You never saw him put on a smile so fast.

"Yeah, I do."

While you're in the car, a small kareoke session ensues. The radio station is playing all the old ballads your moms would hum on their way home from work. You know a few of them, so you sing along with him. The sweet sound of your soprano voice, floating above his note takes him by surprise.

"Why didn't you sing before?" He says, at a stoplight.

"Just...never had the chance to until now." Talent shows that you participated in only allowed one submission per person.

"Sing more often," he coaxes.

Soon, you're seated outside of a convenience store, hunched over a simple plastic bowl of ramen, but you couldn't be happier. It's cold, spring in Korea is always a chilly, but your heart burns with the newfound love you share with the guy sitting across from you, slurping his noodles messily. Somehow it's still perfect.

When he looks at you, he sees his world. You can tell the way his eyes gleam, his heart melts.

"Are you cold?" He gestures with his chopsticks, munching softly.

You are, in fact, not cold. "No, but I kinda do want your jacket now."

The scrape of his aluminum chair is heard as he makes his way over to you to cover you in his coat. You stand as he adjusts it on your shoulders and buttons it from the waist up.

"There, perfect." He sighs, stepping back to look at you. "It's a little too big, but it's nice."

You tuck your hands into the pockets, immediately coming into contact with a small, textured box. "What is this?"

Your fingers pull out a jewelry box, small and white with a ribbon poking out from one of the edges. Jimin asks for the box, wanting to open it for you.

It's a sweetheart necklace, a simple golden heart with his first initial engraved on the back, so that it touches your skin. "Ah, isn't it too much, Jimin? For our first date?"

"Well, maybe…" He clasps the chain around your neck with careful fingers. "But why wait?"

And when his fingers intertwine with yours as you walk up to his apartment, you couldn't imagine a better place to be but next to him.

It boggled your mind. You were so mad at yourself. You should have known, you should have said something. You were so blinded by the notion that this man was supposed to be your competition that you completely ruled out the possibility that he could be your other half.

Now the shadows of the night wash his room like it did the previous nights, but there is no coldness, there's warmth.

There's warmth in his touch, in his words, in his careful hold of your torso.

His bed smells like him, like a valley of flowers blooming in the blush of spring, undertones by something subtly masculine, almost whispering seduction.

"Why don't you let me take my time with you?" He places his thumb along your jaw, his eyes peering down at your dazed visage.

"Why don't you let me fuck you like you want?"

Your hands wander to his back, your thumbs dipping into his dimples of Venus, gripping him tighter. His ass is perfect.

You kiss his Adonis belt, marking every inch of his skin with that gorgeous red color, which matures into a wine purple. Humming, you wander further, following the slope of his sex line to arrive at the edge of his shorts.

With every kiss you pepper against his skin, a small moan replies. He's responsive to every touch, offering himself to your command. His hands find purchase in your hair, carding between your strands loosely.

"Fuck," he whines. Your eyes flutter to meet his face, flush and aching for the friction that your tight little throat can give his pretty cock. You tug down his useless piece of clothing and attach your hot mouth to the tip of his length. His lips part into a gasp.

You grin. He sounds like a dream, you bet you could summon the most desperate sounds from the depths of his need by spreading your tongue flat on his girth and licking all the way up to his throbbing tip. His grip tightens, a guttural groan ripping from his throat. You swipe up the underside and experimentally kiss the tip. "You're going to tell me what you need," you demand.

"Shit," he breaks out into a smile. He didn't know he needed this. Something clicks in his mind, though. It's your birthday.

You lock eyes as he maneuvers your body so that your heat meets his face, nestled between your precious thighs.

You need his hot tongue inside of you, you need to feel him kiss and suck at your swollen clit and intoxicate him with how fucking good you taste. "Fuck, please," you cry. "Please please please please."

"Begging, are we," he breathes so, so close to your dripping little pussy. His thumb tangles itself in the seam of your panties. The cloth clings to your heat, smothered in arousal.

"Yes~" you mewl. Fuck, you've dreamed of how his lips would feel playing with your pussy, how his tongue would flick at your clit while your fingers carded through his jet black hair. He smirks against your folds. "Fuck me, please" you beg, like a good girl.

"That's right, pretty."

He buries himself between your folds, licking a fat stripe along the seam of your pussy while his nose teases your bud. You gasp at the sensation, your hands balling the sheets into weak fists as he settles on your clitoris, sucking it experimentally. He hums, gratified with your subtle reaction.

He teases your entrance with his digits, coated in your thick arousal. He shallowly thrusts them inside, keeping a languorous pace. Maybe it's the wine, maybe it's the air, but watching you tense and writhe while his fingers work your tight cunt for the preparation of his cock made him forget words.

He dives in, his tongue replacing his fingers, discovering the source of your delicacy. "Mmh~" you sigh, your heart beating ten times faster. You clench, the feeling of utter pleasure building in the pit of your stomach.

"Jimin if you don't stop I'm gonna cum," you whine, feeling your cheeks get hot. You feel his lips contort into a flirty grin as he vigorously thrusts his muscle inside of you, adding his thumb to spur on your orgasm. It washes over you in waves, every vein on your body flooded with his generous pleasure.

His lips leave your core, his head nestled between your thighs.

"If you open up that drawer specifically, there are condoms," he gestures, sitting on his knees and giving you a view. His thighs look like they'd be so good to ride.

Taking note of your observation, Jimin smirks. "What, are you looking at my thighs?" He's flushed.

"Yeah, they're good. They're girthy," you rasp, sitting up and retrieving a tiny foil package from his drawer.

"Girthy?" He squints.

"Mm…" you hum. You take the lubed condom and roll it onto his length, resting your head on his shoulder. "Like this cock…"

A bubble of laughter vibrates through his body. "Yeah?"

"Yes, Jimin," your lips hover over his as he slips his hands around your waist, your legs draping around his hips loosely. He presses a chaste kiss to them, taking a handful of your ass and squeezing it.

He kisses you again, longer, harder, before lining you up with his cock.

He plunges into your cunt effortlessly, a string of cuss words leaving his lips as he spreads your thighs with his careful hand. You whine in pleasure, tensing from his impressive girth.

"I know, babyyy…I know..." he breathes, kneading you fevrously. "Relax for me, my love."

His lips flutter upon your neck as you guide his hands down to your folds. He takes initiative and languidly stimulates your clit with his pollex. Your moan turns into a sigh as you sink onto his fat cock, gasping when it touches your cervix.

And he doesn't even have to say that you're his. Your body knows it, and it's always known it. The way you danced together, you've been fucking him the whole night. You've been dancing the whole night.

The crescendo of your moans triggers a rougher pace from him. His fingers tweak your nubs at the swell of your breast, eliciting a lewd squeal. "Fuck~!"

He rests his eyes where you're connected, his shallow breath accentuating his heaving chest. He slurs his gaze up to meet your desperate state. He looks like an angel but he fucks like the devil.

The warning signs hit you; you're scratching his back, gripping him close as he drones on, prompting you to cream around his cock and you reply, with a drunken, "yeeesss…"

You flutter around him, every sensation elevates as your orgasm hits. You suck his bottom lip needily. With a few broken thrusts, his white hot cum spills into the condom, overstimulating your recovering cunt.

"Mmn~!" You whine, pouting.

He leans back on his palms, examining you, all fucked out. "They were right. The people who made this soulmate stuff?"

"I don't know if it's the Ancient Greeks...or the Christians, or whoever," he pants.

You quietly lay on his chest, listening to the thrumming of his heart under you.

"I don't know about the timings of these things and it's probably early to say this but I've never been so sure about it," he says in a calm voice, rubbing your back soothingly.

"That we're meant to be together?" You ask intrepidly as your hands wander his body.

"Hmmm…" he breathes, "Mhm." The tips of his fingers massage your scalp. You close your eyes softly, as if you haven't a care in the world.

"We still need to clean," he says, feeling a little sticky.

"Bath?" You poke your head up. He nods, stifling a smile. You're just too cute, he never sees this side of you. You probably were never comfortable enough to let it show.

You don't want to get up, your bones are weak and weary. Mr.Enegizer bunny over here, though, he looks like he could go another round.

Not even a minute later, he's carrying you like a sack of potatoes to the tub butt-naked. You squish his little buttcheeks on the way.

"Haha why?" He shakes his head, giggling.

"Squish~" you say.

"Squish," he echoes in defeat.

tags: @koolvrr @peachyagustd @destructiveasparagus @debicaptain-saturn look at dis besties!

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Text

Curiosity Killed the Exorcist

“And then, see here? You have to be on the lookout for subtle signs like these. This indicates that he’s…” Marinette nodded as Tim continued explaining, pointing out various body language and other clues out on the Batcomputer. It had only been about six months since the Batfam collectively adopted the little ladybug into their menagerie of heroes, and started teaching her deductive habits and skills. She would not allow them anywhere near Paris on pain of death (some of them had already tried, and Bruce was still recovering from the bruise to his ego. The bruise on his ass from being teleported out of the city and onto the stone of the Batcave was gone, though) but she welcomed any help they could give from within Gotham’s city limits.

Usually, at least in the beginning, they did their mentorship at a distance over video call. But then Tim found out her identity, and Marinette made the excuse of wanting to meet with them in person to gauge their trustworthiness for herself and erase their memories of her identity if they failed her test— and, well, it all snowballed from there until she was teleporting to the Batcave every few days for detective lessons. She was practically a Bat herself, if not for her out of theme codename. And she found herself surprisingly comfortable with the thought of them being a… very eccentric extended family.

Tim was flipping to another saved video in the Batcomputer archives to show another example of his current lesson, when Tikki flew up to Marinette in a hurry. She was holding Kaalki’s glasses. The little kwami whispered something in Marinette’s ear, instantly making the teen blanch and force on the glasses.

“Sorry Timmy, gotta cut this short! I’ll come back tomorrow to make up for it! Okay? Okay! Awesome, you’re the best, bye!” She ignored all of Tim’s protests and rapid fire questions, instead opening up a portal and jumping through it as fast as humanly possible. The portal has barely disappeared before an all-too-familiar voice rose up from behind Tim.

“Maybe I’m still drunk, ‘cause I could’a sworn I just saw a portal closing in the damned Batcave, of all places,” the British-accented drawl was accompanied by the flick of a lighter and accompanying fizzle of a flame. Tim groaned, mentally making a note to ask how in the world Marinette had known that John “Annoying asshole” Constantine was showing up soon, and if he could be in on the warning next time. Bruce, cowl still off, walked over from where he had been sparring with Damian and crossed his arms. He had also heard Marinette’s hasty exit, and made a few mental notes of his own before focusing on the exorcist in front of him.

“What do you want, Constantine?” he grumbled. Any time the blond brit showed up, things only got far more complicated than he ever enjoyed. And he always gave Bruce a migraine, to boot.

“Two things actually, Batsy,” John held up to fingers as his free hand tucked his lighter away in his pocket. His unlit cigarette stayed in his mouth though, probably just for the familiar feel of it. “One; I’m gonna need you to tell me why there was a portal closing when I walked in, because I’ll be honest. The implications there are way more interesting than what I came here for in the first place.”

“None of your business. What’s the second thing?” Bruce immediately shot him down, but John was not one to be deterred. He never fucking was.

“But you hate magic! You make sure I know that all too bloody well every time I pay you a visit, so why the sudden change in heart? Huh?”

“Drop it, Constantine. What. Do you. Want?”

“Fine, fine. I need your help with…”

— * — * — * — * — *

A week later, Marinette was sitting with Jason and Damian in one of the manor’s sitting rooms, the three of them just minding their own business and silently enjoying one another’s presence. Even if two of them would never admit it. Jason was reading Jane Eyre for the millionth time, Damian was leaning against Titus on the ground as he sketched, and Marinette was embroidering a sunhat. Unfortunately for her, Alfred the Cat was currently asleep on her lap and thus holding her hostage.

Even as Tikki flew up to her ear in a panic and whispered, making Marinette prick herself with her needle. She hissed for a second but shrugged off the familiar pain, much more concerned with whatever news Tikki had given her. Damian and Jason were already on high alert from the second that a whispered curse had left her lips, and were staring straight at her and her kwami and Marinette frantically tried to find a way to get up without awakening the cat sleeping on her.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Jason asked, feeling thoroughly confused and left out. On one hand, he knew that if they were in physical danger she would have moved Alfred the Cat without hesitation. On the other, he did not like the sheer amount of anxiety he could see her experiencing. Marinette’s frantic eyes shot over to him, pupils mere pinpricks and hands mouth agape as she tried to form some sort of plan.

“Uh— “

“Ah! You must be the fair maiden that the Bats are comfortable with using magic around them,” John goddamned Constantine threw the door to the sitting room open wide, making it bounce off of the wall and lightly smack back against his shoulder. He ignored it as he grinned at the three younger people in the room, waltzing in casual as anything. He wagged a finger at her playfully. “I’ve been awfully curious about you, ya know? Brucie boy knows a shit ton of magic users, but he never likes seein’ any of us do our thing. And to not only allow you to teleport without any apparent discomfort but to actively protect your identity from me? Now that’s a damn accomplishment and I really gotta applaud you for it,” he mockingly clapped his hands a few times. “So what’s your secret, huh? I won’t tattle.”

“No thanks. Kaalki, a little help?” Marinette carefully pushed Alfred the Cat off of her lap before diving into the portal that Kaalki whipped up for her, the entire process happening so fast that Constantine couldn’t even get out a proper “hey!” before she was gone and the portal closed. He just nodded, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

“Ya know what? Fair. That’s fair.”

“Goddamn it, Constantine!” Jason threw up his hands in frustration. “Why the fuck do you have to scare away one of the only sane people in this family?”

“Part of my charm, little red riding hood.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“You know, I’ve been pretty damn nice not teleporting right over to you whenever you disappear. So why don’t you just tell me why you’re avoiding me now that we happen to be in the same room by complete accident, huh?” John asked from where he sat in one of Bruce’s lounge chairs sipping on a beer. Marinette mimed choking him, clearly fed up. He had been trying to have a conversation with her for the past three months, ever since that one time he caught the tail end of her portal closing in the Batcave. Three. Long. Months. And he hadn’t given up, because something about this little Parisian teenager intrigued him. She was sixteen, that much he had gathered from the Bats. But to be sixteen and not only in possession of the Horse miraculous but also clearly the Ladybugs, since he had seen Tikki more than once as well, now that was interesting.

Anybody being in the possession of more than one Miraculous was already cause enough to be keeping an eye on them, which was why he had been keeping an eye on the Paris situation and had pieced together on his own that the presence of Tikki meant that this little parisian teenager was none other than Ladybug herself. Now, that? That was a whole new level of concerning, especially since he knew firsthand that the old Grand Guardian was gone and passed his title down to— yeah, Ladybug.

After that deduction, his interest in Marinette had swiftly switched from curiosity to fuck-I-need-to-know-what’s-going-on-here. Because no kid should have to deal with that kind of weight, and Constantine always looked out for kids when he could.

But right then, Marinette was glaring at him. She had been just coming over for a normal “family” dinner with the Waynes, which she attended from time to time. And apparently they had decided to have Constantine already over so that they could chaperone a meeting between them that would hopefully appease the stupid british magic user enough that he left them all alone again until the next time he needed help.

“Believe me when I say, you’d rather not know,” she replied sharply, glaring Dick. He was the one who had convinced her to come despite her recent close calls with Constantine in the past few days. He studiously avoided her gaze. “I just would rather not cross your path, and there’s no reason for us to interact. Why do you care, anyway?”

“You see, now that is an excellent question!” he chugged the last of his beer and gestured to her with the empty bottle. “Normally, I wouldn’t give a flying rat’s ass. But I’ve put two and two together, since I know who Tikki is,” he nodded to the red and black Kwami. “And maybe I just wanna keep an eye on the new Grand Guardian to make sure she’s doin’ alright. That’s an awful lot of magic and responsibility that you don’t deserve, but I’m not about to try to take it away. Keepin’ an eye on you is the next best thing.”

“Try again,” Marinette shot back, crossing her arms. “You were interested in me before you learned about me being Ladybug.”

“I’m nosy, what do you want me to say? I saw a portal in Batman’s man-cave, I get curious. Sue me.”

“Well. I have Bruce and everyone else already watching out for me, so you can leave me alone now. If I need your help, I’ll make sure to ask every other magic user first before contacting you.”

“Woah, now what’s all this venom for?”

“Uh, maybe we should go and actually eat dinner?” Dick tried to step in, hands up. Constantine had stood up from the chair he was in, which was usually a cue to change the subject as fast as possible. “Before Alfred has to come get us?”

“Maybe I’ll be less venomous if you let the subject drop and leave me alone!”

“Context would be nice, though.”

“Seriously guys, let’s go! Food!” Dick was once again ignored.

“Context is the last thing you need in this situation,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, her arms dropping to her sides. “We’ve had this conversation so many times in so many now-deleted timelines. Just drop it this time.”

“If those timelines are now-deleted, then I obviously don’t remember what’s so bad about telling me why you’re acting like I’m some hated family member you’re avoiding!”

Silence.

Pure. Fucking. Silence. As they all watch with front row seats as Marinette flinches at the word ‘family’.

Pure silence as Constantine’s shoulders drop at the sight of her flinch, realization slapping itself on his face.

“No.”

“See? I fucking knew you would— that this would happen. This always happens, you always hate finding it out, but you’re so— so stubborn!” Marinette was blinking away tears, digging in her pockets and bringing out Kaalki’s glasses. “You’ll drop it now, at least. You always do.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Constantine rubbed his forehead, still trying to sort through his amalgam of emotions. Marinette just shook her head, turning to Kaalki.

“Do you mind showing Monsieur Constantine the way out, Kaalki? I’ll grab you a load of sugar cubes afterward.”

“No, wait, hang on a second!”

A portal opened up under him, making John “Stubborn Idiot” Constantine drop ten feet down onto the hardwood, polished floor of his house. His bruised tailbone would take a while to heal, but his frazzled mind was by far the more concerning development. He staggered to his feet, reaching for the nearest bottle of tequila.

“Ugh, fuck my damn life.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“Marinette..?” Damian nudged the girl with his shoulder, frowning. It was after dinner that same day, and as much as he hated to admit it he had grown to actually like having her around. She was a good friend to have. And seeing her slumped back on one of their sofas, sketchbook covering her face and not a single rambling conversation to be had or heard? It was very concerning. She just made a groaning sound to answer him, prompting his frown to deepen. “Are you alright?”

“I just can’t believe that such a sweet, adorable thing like you is half made up of Constantine’s genes,” Jason mused bluntly from the opposite couch, where he tossed a rubber ball up and down out of boredom. “But now I see where you get all of your Disaster Bi-ness from.”

“Shut uuuuup,” She groaned, chucking her sketchbook at him. He caught it in midair, replacing his rubber ball with it and tossing it up and down in the air. “I’m just frustrated. This timeline is still perfectly stable, so I can’t erase it. And I can’t exactly ask ‘hey, can someone commit a horrid atrocity that makes this timeline split from the main one so that I can erase it and we can start over from four months ago?’ because that would be horribly irresponsible of me. But seriously, Jason. If you’re gonna ever commit, like, city-wise arson? I’d probably condone it right now if only so I have an excuse to use time travel to get out of this situation.”

“Not committing arson unless you give me a better reason for it, Pigtails.”

“Damn.”

“But are you okay?” Damian asked again, seeing as she had completely ignored him.

“I’m fine, Damian,” she finally sighed. “And I know how this is gonna go. He’s going to totally ignore me now, until we meet during some magical crisis and he only interacts with me when necessary. Then he pretends we never met, we have a private little one-sided whisper-argument about how he will never make a good father figure and I would be better off leaving him alone, blah blah blah. Avoidance is a coping mechanism I guess I inherited from him.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m trying to bite that in the bud then, eh?” Marinette startled out of her sitting position, seeing John stumble into the room…

Drunk off his ass. But apparently still at least mildly coherent.

“I agree with deleted-me’s, I’m not gonna be a dad. Not me,” he tripped, landing on his still-bruised ass and hissing in pain before continuing from the floor; “So if you’re looking for another Daddy dearest, that ain’t me.”

“See, I knew this is how you’d—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “I don’t know how long the booze is gonna last and I need it’s courage here. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. Where was I? Right. But I know magic, ya know. The kind that doesn’t rely on little bobblehead gods to do. I got— like, a million books. Shit ton of books. At my place. Ya can read ‘em. My books. At my place. But I ain’t gonna parent, but I can lend ya books. Maybe give magic advice. Teach a little. Little bit. Didn’t think I’d have a child, but apparently I do and she’s the fuckin’ grand guardian and a damn hero, and I don’t know how the fuck I was able to help make someone like that. But whatever, it’s not like the world’s ever fuckin’ been easy on me,” He pulled out a sample-sized bottle of whiskey from one of the pockets on the inside of his trench coat and chugged it. After a brief wince and hiss at the burn, he kept rambling. “My door’s open, is what I’m tryin’ to say. No guarantee I’ll be in any state to talk to when you walk through it, but it’s open.”

Deciding to steadfastly ignore the tears streaming down her face, Marinette just swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I, uh. I think I can work with that.”

John barely made it to the nearby bin in time to vomit into it.

— * — * — * — * — *

I hate my imagination sometimes, guys. I started imagining a convo between Mari and Constantine at like 4am and it wouldn't leave me alone until I got it down. but by the time I wrote it, I kinda forgot like 60% of the original convo and just winged it. And this was born. I 100% blame @multifandomscribette because their Bio!dad John Constantine headcannons are amazing and even though this isn't in that universe, those headcannons are exactly what inspired this. So blame them, lol.

#dc x mlb #ml x dc #mlb x dc #maribat fanfic #maribat #maribat fic #miraculous ladybug x dc #bio!dad John Constantine

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whockeywhore · 2 years

Text

Wonder featuring Justin Herbert

"Hmm, I know we talked about breaking this mattress in baby but can we put that on hold?" My body was screaming from moving in and sleep was coming on fast. Justin looked up from his book and nodded with a smile. "How are you reading right now? My eyes stopped focusing after our fiftieth trip in."

"I wanted to finish tonight."

"And you're not tired?" He shook his head and leaned in as I sat up to kiss his cheek, turning to catch my lips just prior. "Must be that athlete's stamina."

"It must be."

I pulled the blanket up to my chin and settled my head on the pillow, rolling so my back was to him. He reached his hand over and rubbed my back gently for a moment before closing his book and turning off the bedside lamp.

"Done already?"

"Nah, I'll finish the last few pages tomorrow. I've got all day off." He cuddled up against my back and pulled me flush against him with a content sigh. The long day and our cozy bed had me drifting off to sleep quickly but Justin clearing his throat behind me brought me back. "Are you uh, are you ever gonna tell me what's in that box?"

I opened my eyes wide and turned to venture a glance at him, barely able to make out a smile in our dark room. Feigning ignorance seemed like the best option so I ran with it.

"What box?"

"The one you snatched from my dad's hands today."

"I'm not sure-"

"The one you hid under the bed. It's purple, I think." I could hear the smile in his voice as my cheeks burned with a blush. "What's in the box?"

"Do you- did you install cameras in here?"

"I saw it when I was making the bed."

I reached out to turn on my bedside lamp and sat up, turning to look at the shit-eating grin on his face. He brushed his hair back and rolled onto his side, resting his head on his hand as he raised his eyebrows.

"So... what's in the box?"

"It's... it's nothing. They're gifts from my bachelorette party."

"Gifts? There's more than one?" I nodded and he continued. "What kinds of gifts?"

"Just... single lady stuff."

"Like what?"

"Have you always been this nosy?"

He leaned over and held his lips against my cheek, a whine in his voice when he spoke. "C'monnnnn, please? We're getting married in a month. We shouldn't keep secrets. And I didn't get any gifts for my bachelor's party."

"You got a weekend in Vegas with your friends."

"But I got no souvenirs."

He moved to kiss the corner of my jaw before trailing down the column of my neck. I couldn't help but react as a shiver ran through me, goosebumps rising on my skin. He mumbled 'please' over and over against my skin and I finally caved.

"Fine! You can see it! You can see what's inside!" I rolled out of bed and crouched to pull the box out, grabbing it with two hands and standing slowly. "But you can't- you've got to keep an open mind."

"Is it that bad?"

"I wouldn't say bad, just... unusual for us."

I handed it to him and he sat up, setting it on his lap with an excited smile. He rubbed his hands together and slowly lifted the lid, taking a long moment to review the small haul I'd left my party with. My girlfriends had delivered, to say the least, and I covered my face with my hands.

"Is it for you? For like, when I'm gone?"

"No. I mean, yeah. It's- we could use them together." His eyes widened and I backtracked. "Not that we have to! It's just... they're meant to be used in addition to what you and I do."

I'd never toyed with the idea of introducing anything else in the bedroom because it was never necessary but the look on his face had me questioning that choice. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eye and he grinned wide.

"So... you and I can-"

"Yep. I mean, if you want to. We don't- we don't have to."

"And I'm just now hearing about this?" He picked it up and shook it gently as I laughed. "Why?"

"I dunno. I didn't think you'd be into it."

"Based on what?" I genuinely didn't have an answer and he rolled his eyes, scooting aside before patting the bed next to him. I took a seat and leaned in, watching as he rifled through the collection. "What do each of these do?"

"Well, this one is called a hitachi and it," he pressed a button on the side and it came to life in his hands. "It vibrates."

"And where does it go?"

"Anywhere you want, really. Mainly on the um, the thing while we're um, you know."

I found myself at a loss for words as I spoke, nervous in uncharted territory with him. We'd never discussed anything like this, each of us just kind of knowing what the other wanted. He pressed through the vibration patterns and looked at me with wonder.

"Have you used it?" I nodded. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's nice."

"Show me."

"Pardon?"

"Show me." He sat up in bed and held the toy out to me, his hand lowering as I stared at him. "You don't have to if you don't want to, I just-"

"I want to."

The air between us grew thick and I tucked my hair behind my ears, waiting for him to make the next move. He reached out and pulled me in for a kiss, long and slow and unnervingly hot. I squeezed his biceps and moaned just before he pulled back, lips still lingering on mine.

"I wanna see how you... do it yourself."

I braced myself against him as he loosened the tie on my pajama bottoms, pushing them down my legs along with my panties. He slid his hands up my backside and pulled me closer.

"I wanna know what makes you feel good."

I lifted a knee to climb onto the bed and he pulled me the rest of the way, turning so my back was against the headboard. His weight on me was a pleasure I'd known for a long time but had yet to get used to and I ran my fingers through his hair slowly. His moan was quiet but enough to warm me through despite his cold hands making their way under my shirt.

I leaned forward enough for him to pull it over my head and smiled at the look on his face. Sitting bare before him, nothing but electricity and tension between us, felt as natural as breathing but adrenaline still rushed through my body.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

I reached for his shirt but he stopped me, sitting back on his heels instead. I eyed the toy between us and he waited for me to reach out, nodding slowly.

"Whatever you're comfortable with. You don't have to."

"I want to."

He took a corner of the bed as I spread my legs, bringing my knees a bit closer to my chest. I felt more naked than I ever had before, completely bare to him. My nerves must've shown because he reached out and set a hand on my leg and nodding. The toy buzzed to life in my hand and I turned it to the lowest setting with the button on the side, bringing it towards my body slowly.

"You don't start-"

"Not always. It feels good everywhere." I ran it over my nipple and between my breasts, my satisfied sigh audible over the steady thrum. He fell onto his side and propped himself up for a better view. My cheeks burned as he raised a brow, nodding down towards the band of his sweatpants.

"Could I..."

He trailed off and I nodded, more aroused than I think I'd ever been. The thought of him touching himself was nothing new but the idea that I was the driving force behind his need sent me spinning.

My heat ached and I brought my fingers to my mouth to wet them before tucking them between my legs. I watched his brow furrow and began circling my clit before I explained.

"It can be a bit harsh so I've got to um, warm up first."

He nodded that he understood and began to palm himself through his pants, his chest rising and falling a bit quicker as his breath caught. I watched a blush creep up his neck and onto his cheeks as he did so and it spurred me on.

"Could you- will you take off our shirt?"

The moment between us stilled as he sat up, crawling close to kiss me, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger to hold me steady. "Tell me what you want."

"Take it off."

"Yes ma'am."

He pulled it up and over his head, throwing it blindly before leaning back in. I took the chance to run my fingertips along the waistband of his sweats and savored the soft sigh he let out. He clenched his jaw and sat back slowly, a bit closer this time.

The anticipation was riveting but had worn it's welcome and I sat back against the pillow, toy in hand and nearing desperation. He looked at me once more, a wry smile on his face as he laid on his side again.

"Only if you want to-"

"I do."

#justin herbert fic #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert smut #wonder fic

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)

Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia

Word count: 5,138

After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.

After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today.

As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.”

“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”

You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”

You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”

He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?”

Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”

While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him.

“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”

That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”

“Do you have any blackmail?”

Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.”

“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”

You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice.

“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”

“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”

“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”

“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”

“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”

“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”

The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit.

By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat.

Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up.

After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.

Hales : )

(Y/n), I’m omw to your house

Gonna give you a ride to the school

(Y/n)

Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive

Hales : )

Don’t care

Omw, be there in like 7 mins

You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat

(Y/n)

I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one

She’s gonna give me a ride home too

Dadza

Alright, thank her for me

Tell her I said good luck too!

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Dadza

(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck you I’m a good influence

Dadza

You’re really not

Wilby

^^^^

Technology Sword

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck all of you

You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.

“Coat.”

You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”

“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”

Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”

“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”

Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back.

“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”

“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face.

“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”

You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”

You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”

The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable.

Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time.

When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team.

The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.

“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”

“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”

“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”

“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”

The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike. “HALEY NOW!”

You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!”

“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”

“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”

“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”

You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them.

The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black.

“...(y……”

“..(y/n)......”

“(Y/n).”

You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.

“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.

“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.

“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?

“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.

“Who th f-fuck… why?”

“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.

“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”

“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”

“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”

Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”

“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.

“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”

“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”

“Good, what month are we in right now?”

“Nov-November?”

“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”

“S’my dad Phillip.”

“That’s your dad Philza.”

The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop.

“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”

Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.

“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”

“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.

She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them.

“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against.

“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.

“Tech?”

“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”

When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym.

“S’better.”

“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”

“Wilbs-”

“Focus on walking.”

You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”

You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”

When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.”

You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle?

After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.

“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you?

“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up.

“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”

“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”

“Mm. Makes sense.”

“Let’s get you in the car hun.”

As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner.

When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”

“Car.”

After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you.

“(Y/n), what do you remember?”

You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”

You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”

“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”

“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”

After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.

“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”

“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”

As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.

For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.”

“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”

The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”

“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”

“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”

You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.

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