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#i wish it was socially acceptable to just ring their bell and ask if i could take them both on walk maybe she would even play
yanpotatowriter · 1 year
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Yander Xavier x reader: Arranged marriage
Yandere (your choice) x reader; but they are in an arranged marriage and won't be married until after they graduate. For example, say the Addams arrange Wednesday to marry an old family for an allies, Wednesday is thrilled at the idea while the reader is like hell no. —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This might be the only time Xavier will be thankful for his father's decision, of course he logically knew that his father only did it for the fame and status it would give him when Xavier married his now fiancé, but Xavier just couldn’t care less.  He pretty much has a guaranteed future with his obsession and the only thing he needed to really do is just take care of them and wait until graduation before the wedding bells start to ring, if only his obsession would feel the same way then maybe it would, could've been even better. “I still don’t understand why you don’t even bother to try and get your father to remove the marriage arrangement, it's a stupid idea besides would you rather be tied to someone you don’t even love than to find love later in life?”  You asked Xavier on a long day, you two were currently hanging out in the schools' library trying to get some homework done.  Or at least you were, Xavier was drawing in his sketchbook again. “And like I have said before my father won’t listen to me, you think that I have not tried to get him to call it off? I tried, and he refused, I tried again and he refused.  You know he only cares about prestige and where he stands in life, he won’t take back the arrangement because it makes him stand higher in the social status” Xavier said, fully lying to his obsession, but even if he was not ecstatic with the arrangement he knew his father would have refused to undo the marriage arrangement.
Besides that he was also not focusing on his homework at all, deciding it would be better to just draw what he had currently in his head which was him and his obsession standing at the altar in wedding attire. When he first saw his obsession they would just not leave his mind, and after he got a vision of them getting married to him, he decided to keep an extra eye on them, wanting to know why he got a vision like that and when his feelings practically exploded after holding a conversation for them, he never wanted a vision to turn into reality that badly before. It does make his feelings complicated as he is completely and utterly in love with his obsession while they are just waiting to get out of the marriage as if someone else would treat them better like he would, a part of him does want to scare them by painting something horrific and making it come to life just to give them a giant scare, but he decided to not do that for now and try to win over their affection the normal way before his hands get tied. “You can also look at it in a more positive light you know, at least you're not getting married to a complete stranger who’s twice your age like some arranged marriages” Xavier said after a long moment of silence, where the only thing that was audible was pencil hitting the paper. “I guess… I just wished it would all go away, but you do have a point, better you than a stranger, even if they were our age” You said, after thinking about what he had just said.  If there was absolutely no way to make your parents rethink the marriage than you should just accept the fact that you are at least not marring a complete stranger but a close friend of yours.   Even if you don’t know that they harbour heavy feelings for you.
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fruityyamenrunner · 8 months
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In 1928, I treated a man who suffered from masochistic perversion. His lamentations and his demands to be beaten blocked any progress. After some months of conventional psychoanalytic work my patience wore thin. One day, when he asked me again to beat him, I asked him what he would say if I actually did. He beamed with happy anticipation. I took a ruler and gave him two hard slaps on the buttocks. He yelled aloud; there was no sign of pleasure whatsoever, and from that time on such demands were never repeated.’ This, says Reich, convinced him that it is untrue that masochists derive pleasure from being beaten. And then came a ‘truly fantastic idea’: that ‘the masochist wishes to burst and imagines that torture will bring this about’. That is to say, the masochist is full of desires that he dare not express, and they have the effect of making him—figuratively speaking—blow up like a balloon. But in the case of human beings, the balloon cannot burst, because the person has developed a kind of ‘armour’ to hold it in, like a child struggling to hold back his tears. So an intolerable tension is created, an inner pressure that cannot find release. Being beaten, says Reich, is an attempt to find such release, a desire to be struck until the balloon bursts. The alternative would be to find—with the help of Reichian therapy—an ‘orgastic discharge’. But what is it that is discharged in such a moment? Not just semen, for an orgasm without pleasure does not reduce tension. It must be some form of biological energy—the energy Reich was seeking to measure with his electrical machines.
This reasoning sounds convincing until it is examined more closely. To begin with, can we really accept that neurosis is due to the clash between biological and social demands (fame, ambition, etc.)? It is easy to see that many young men would enjoy making love to every pretty girl they meet, and that social taboos make this impossible. But is it really society that is to blame? Surely, the girls themselves would have some objection? And their objection is just as ‘biological’ as the young men’s desires. Neurosis can be caused by the conflict between social and sexual desires; but it is not always so. A few years later, Abraham Maslow produced a more balanced theory in the concept of the ‘hierarchy of needs’—that the most basic need of all living creatures is for food and security; after that, sex (and love); after that, success and fame (self-esteem). A man could be satisfied on the sexual level, and still become neurotic out of unfulfilled self-esteem.
Reich’s theory of masochism is open to a more basic criticism. He seems to prefer to ignore the sexual component. Magnus Hirschfeld has a chapter on masochism that makes it clear that in the majority of cases, masochism is sexual in nature. A schoolboy enjoys being beaten because the mistress—an attractive young woman—removes his trousers before bending him over her knee; she often allows her other hand to stray to his genitals as she spanks him. A young man enjoys lying on the floor, while his pretty cousin stands on him in high-heeled shoes, allowing him to look up her dress to her underwear; as a climax of the ‘game’, she presses her foot on his penis, and he has an orgasm. A girl has a fantasy in which she is bound and naked on a butcher’s slab; the butcher prods her all over, as if trying to decide on the best cuts, then inserts a finger in her vagina—which causes an orgasm. In none of these cases can we see any evidence of Reich’s ‘desire to burst’. There is simply an association of pain with sexual pleasure, so that pain ends by evoking sexual pleasure, as the ringing of a bell caused Pavlov’s dogs to salivate when it became associated with food. And because Reich wilfully ignores this psychological component, he fails to see why his patient did not enjoy being struck with a ruler. For the masochist, the person who is beating him is an object of sexual desire, the real cause of the excitement. A grim-faced psychiatrist wielding a ruler bursts the soap-bubble of illusion. The actress Florence Farr used to practise the same technique on love-sick swains; she would lean forward, grab them by the head and make them kiss her and then say: ‘Now let’s have a reasonable conversation.’ The treatment was intended to extinguish romantic desire, and seems to have succeeded.
this reminds me a little of the sexless way some people talk about, and i presume actually perform fantasies about, "kink", a sort of dramatic magickal performance of a release of Reichian cum-energy, with no pretentions or even presence of simple sexual desire.
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highviewsmoved · 2 years
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You and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. It can’t get any worse, can it? (It can). It always does somehow. 
WORD COUNT: 2.6K TAGS: Meet Ugly, Romantic Comedy, Grouchy Reader, Gender-Neutral Reader, Bad Luck, First Meetings, Hit and Run (kind of).  NOTES: *dj khaled voice* another one. this is actually ridiculous, i’m sorry inui fans. no thoughts head empty type of beat. 
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It has been a shit start to your day. You were running late to work, your boss yelled at you. And now your car decided it needed an oil change at the worst time of your life. 
The way you wish this day could not get any worse. When you arrive at the D&D motors spot, you walk in. No one’s at the front. Of course. 
You want to scream in frustration. You ring the bell an obnoxious amount of times before finally someone comes. The man before you looks peeved. Rightfully so. You had been making an incredible amount of noise. 
“I need an oil change,” you start with a demand. The way it comes out is bad. It’s bad. You know that. Usually a please would be more socially acceptable. You’re just angry today. And now you’re taking it out on the next poor soul in your nearest vicinity. The man before you raises a brow. 
“Is that all?” 
You huff. “Yes!” 
You tap your foot and he just tells you the payment of it costs more than you’d think. “That much? I thought there was like, I don’t know. Better pricing?” It’s just your lucky day. Foot in mouth, it is. 
You read the man’s name tag. Inui. 
He looks irate. His cold stare enough when you’re not enraged with the world to cause you to shrink back. But you just channel your rage. You glare right back, arms crossed. 
Inui, or whatever, grabs your card. He swipes it and hands it back, along with your receipt. “It’ll be thirty minutes to an hour.” 
You groan. “I’m the only one here?” 
“Unlike most people, you walked in during my lunch break.” 
“Huh? When? There’s no sign.” 
Inui points at the door. The white ‘will be back in 30’ paper flashing at you. Maybe you can’t read. 
You stubbornly stand your ground. “Well, sorry.” 
“Don’t apologize now. It’s done.” He takes your keys, looking at them for a long minute. 
“What?” You snap. 
“Is this for a car?” He asks then. 
“Yes, why?” 
Inui blinks, then he does it again. “We only work on motorbikes.” 
Huh? What. 
“Seriously? Isn’t it the same thing? Like can’t you do it to cars?” 
He’s in disbelief. “No, it’s not the same thing? Did you not check before coming in here?” 
You frown, annoyed at him. “Listen, I came here for an oil change. I thought this place has mechanics, does it not?” 
Inui twitches. “Yes, but also no. You’re not being very reasonable.” 
You look at him aghast. “How dare you? I am being reasonable! If you will not work on my vehicle, then I’m leaving.” You snag the keys back from him, exiting the building to head to your car. Today truly was unbelievable. How could this happen? You had come here mistakenly and now you felt embarrassed. It’s like buddha is smiting you from above. Everything in the world seems to go against you on this very day. 
Maybe it’s because you stepped on a crack or walked under a ladder. You broke a glass the other day. All of that must’ve been factors in why this day seems to go down the hole. 
Inui watches you go. You literally paid for an oil change. Shit. He needed to give you a refund. He notices the wallet still sitting on the counter, grabbing it on his way out to follow you. 
“Hey!” He calls out. You don’t hear him over your own muttering. You’re entirely too focused on getting the hell out of here. Inui tries to wave you down, but it ultimately fails. You back out without so much as a look behind you. 
“Hey–” the final shout lost on him when the force of your vehicle throws him back. You step on the brake, horrified. 
What’d you just hit? A deer?! 
You place the car in park to inspect the damage and you see the man from inside D&D Motors laying out on the concrete with your wallet in his hand. Oh, my god. The panic sets in. 
“Oh, my god! Oh my–I can’t believe this,” you breathe heavily. You go to see if he’s still breathing. He’s still alive, right? Right? 
“Please wake up! Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t—oh, I’m going to jail. Hey!” You squat, getting to his level. You smack his face. You can’t do CPR, this is all you can do. You feel useless. 
“Please wake up!” You pat his face again to rouse him. He seems to be unconscious. Oh, he must’ve hit his head. He’s going to bleed out. 
You try to haul him into your arms, but he’s a dead weight. You make a final pull and he groans then. 
“Fuck–” He grunts out. 
You want to thank whatever higher power may be on your side. He’s alive, at least.  “Don’t worry, I’m taking you to the hospital.” 
He says something indecipherable under his breath. You push him into your back seat, making sure he’s all the way in, and you quickly get into your car. You look this time behind you to make sure no other employee comes running out without you noticing. 
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When the two of you arrive at the ER, you ‌explain your story. The way Dr. Yamasaki looks disapproving towards you is enough to make you realize the error of your ways. You’ve seen no one this disappointed in you in quite a while. 
“Make sure you pay attention next time. We wouldn’t want this to be a worse tragedy.” 
You nod, feeling grave. “Is he okay?” 
“He’ll pull through well. You need to get home. We’ve already called his emergency contact. They’ll be arriving soon.” 
You hesitate before asking. “Is it okay if I can see him? I just want to say I’m sorry.” 
Dr. Yamasaki shakes his head. “You need to go home. I think you’ve had enough excitement.” 
He tells you to exit, leaving you to go back to your car. You hope the man is okay. 
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Draken comes busting into the ER. “Inui Seishu, where is he?” 
The nurse gives him a dead eyed look. Then types in the name. “He’s on the second floor–” before she can tell him anything else, Draken runs down to the elevators. 
After a moment of frantic searching, he sees the head of blonde hair from one of the door windows. 
“Inupi!” 
Inui blinks, looking ultimately very okay, minus the state of his clothes being ruffled. The nurse in front of him bows her head. “Just remember to take any medicine for muscle aches, but you should be fine.” 
She leaves the two of them there. 
Draken heads over to him, hovering in a comical manner. “What happened?” 
His partner sighs, leaning back against the hospital bed. “Too many things happened. I got backed into by a car.” 
“Who did this?” 
“Some fool who came into our shop for an oil change. You know they mistook it for a car mechanic's place?” 
Draken frowns. “The car mechanics are across from us. D&S Car Motors. How’d they get confused?” 
Inui shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not even going to pretend to understand.” 
They share a brief glance. “Well, you look fine. Are you feeling fine?” 
Inui releases a puff of air. “Kind of. Just sore. They got me pretty good. Did not expect that.” 
Draken laughs humorlessly. “You have the worst luck.” 
“Tell me about it.” 
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When you had gotten home, your nervous energy was off the charts. You felt horrible. Positively dreadful. Had you gotten out much faster, you could’ve probably killed him. Even worse, he has a concussion now, thanks to you. 
You’re hoping maybe he might have some memory loss so he doesn’t remember what happened after today. 
Something needed to be done about it. You had to clear the air. At least to ask for forgiveness. You’re unsure if he’ll even take the offer. You hospitalized an innocent person because of your own actions. There are consequences to these things. You bite your lip, pacing around trying to figure out what to do. 
This’ll need to be done in person. A part of you is terrified of facing him again. What do you tell someone who you literally ran over? Sorry, I had a bad day, and I wanted to leave so I didn’t pay attention to my surroundings. I hope you can forgive me. 
No. No, that’s not how it should be. 
You mull over it for ‌longer, trying to think of something better. Also, better worded. 
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You wait outside of the building. You have the fruit basket in your arms. You were here to make amends. What you did was awful. It could’ve killed him. You gulp, taking a leap of faith. You walk into D&D Motors. The man before you named Draken or so reads his nametag. When he notices you, his eyebrows raise high into his hairline. Is it that shocking for him to see you here? Does he know you? He must know now. 
Draken takes one look at the basket, knowing exactly who you are. “What brings you back? Need to run me over next?” He mocks, shaking his head. 
You wince. Is it that obvious that you’re the perpetrator? “I’ve brought a peace offering, an apology for nearly taking out your favored employee.” 
Draken stares at you, sucking his teeth in. “See if he accepts it.” He gestures absently to the employee’s only door off to the side of the register. 
You nod, bowing your head when you step into their break room. Inui, sitting there with an arm sling. You gasp. Was it that bad? 
His gaze, to put it lightly, is incredulous. “Did you come to finish the job?” 
Why are they acting like you’re a hitman ready to take them out? You bite your lip, accepting the jabs. You deserve this. Especially for acting like such an ass to a service worker. 
You had disrupted his schedule and his career now with that injury. The shame does not leave you. You bow before him. “I apologize for my actions towards you. Not expecting you to forgive me by any means. I brought a check for the hospital bill and a gift basket.” 
You don’t lift your head; you wait for his call. You can see he’s walking closer to you. He doesn’t tell you when to raise your head yet. The silence was becoming uncomfortable and unbearable. 
Also, your back really hurts. Inui doesn’t speak ‌yet, but he releases a puff of air. Is he laughing? 
“Hey, look at me,” he commands. You do as you're told. At that point it made one thing apparent: his arms are out of the sling and he’s wearing a wry smile. 
Is this a joke? Did he lie about his injury? Was he expecting you this entire time? 
He talks anyway, ignoring the way you look at him in confusion. “I’m allergic to apples in this.” Inui points to the basket full of fruits. 
Your brain takes a minute to catch up. He’s not wearing his sling, and he’s denied your basket. “It is a peace offering. There’s not just apples in here.” 
Inui takes a step back, a blank expression crossing his features. He looks wary. “I can’t be in the same room with apples. They’ll break me out in hives.” 
You gape at him. Really? What are the chances? “I–should I throw this out?” You panic, not intending to cause him more harm. God, you just keep messing up. 
You look around, finally moving out of the break room to the counter where Draken is. “Here, he’s allergic.” 
Draken doesn’t miss a beat. “He’s not.” He continues scrolling through his computer, looking at different bike parts. 
You smack your forehead, going back right back in. “You dirty liar!” 
Inui doesn’t look like he’s laughing, but judging by the way his lips are twitching, he’s fighting a smile. “I was kidding.” 
You want to say more, but you release a breath, leaning against the cabinets of the break room. “I guess I ‌deserve that. For running you over.” 
“You backed into me,” he corrects. 
You squint at him. “Same difference.” 
“There is a difference. You would have been looking and saw me had it happened from the front.” 
That is true. Damn, he’s got you there. “I really am sorry. There’s no excuse for it.” 
He waves you off, sitting back down at the table. “You have impeccable timing,” he glances up at the clock. “This is about the same hour you came in last time.” 
You pull a face. “Oh, you’re on lunch break?” 
Inui nods slowly. “Yeah.” 
God. Please end it all. You walk over, sitting directly across from him. He didn’t ask you to do that, but you just feel so beat. He will not ask you why you did what you did, nor is he going to give you a refund. You kind of ‌deserve it. 
Inui almost pities you. Almost. 
“I feel so bad. I hope you didn’t get a concussion. If you’re dead, blink twice.” 
Inui’s face is impassive. “I’m not dead.” He pauses, considering his next words. “I could have a concussion, though.” 
You groan, letting your head hit against the table. “I am so sorry! I will literally come in here every day to make it up to you.” 
Inui draws back, fearful of the promise. “Please, don’t,” he implores. 
“What can I do?” 
There’s a silence that passes over between you two. Inui must be thinking of different ways to make you grovel before him or worse: could he put you in jail for vehicular manslaughter? Does it still count as manslaughter? Hit and Run maybe? But you didn’t run? All you know is you would not thrive well if you’re sued and jailed. Has he sued? What if he did already? You feel nauseous just thinking about it. 
He shifts in his seat then, a grave look in his eye. “I lost a lot of blood.” 
You pale, oh so he is dying. He could have a brain aneurysm or something. 
“I’ll need to replenish what I lost.” 
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Well, it was more or less a lie. 
“A blood drive?” 
“Thanks for taking me.” 
You put the car in park, waiting outside of the hospital. “You had me drive you here to give blood. I thought you lost blood?” 
Inui responds with a simple answer. “Yes and no.” Correction, not a simple one. 
He leaves the vehicle, but then comes right back so you roll your windows down. “Did you need me to wait here?” 
“There’s no need. Here.” He hands you a card, with the title of D&D Motors and Inui Seishu’s number. You raise a quizzical brow. 
“What’s this for?” 
“In case you need to hit me again with your car,” he taps on the hood. Finally, walking away. 
You stay in the parking lot for a long time. 
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UNDISCLOSED AMOUNT OF MONTHS LATER 
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“So, how did you two meet?” Takemichi starts conversationally, watching you leave for the bathroom. Inui had invited him over to his and Draken’s place where they were sitting on the couch watching a racing documentary. 
Inui takes a drink of his beer. “They hit me with their car.” 
Takemichi’s eyes widened. “What? You’re joking?”
Draken chimes in. “He’s not. That’s what happened.” 
Takemichi looks positively horrified. “And you didn’t die?” 
Inui shakes his head. “No, but I thought I did. I was unconscious.” 
Takemichi looks to have more questions, many that will go unanswered when he shuts his mouth when you return. 
“What? Did I miss something?” You ask, sitting beside Inui. 
Takemichi coughs lightly, trying to look discreet. “Nah, uh, just talking.” 
“He wanted to know how we met,” Inui elaborates. 
You snort. “I backed into him with my car.”
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ardenrabbit · 1 year
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Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....
What a fun question! Thank you for asking! I think I already answered an ask about favorite characters, but here's a list of some of my favorite media in no particular order 💜
1. Avatar the Last Airbender: If you didn't grow as a person if/when you watched atla I just don't know what to say to you. Watch it again I guess? Learn self-love and empathy and healthy coping tactics
2. Lord of the Rings, by Jolkien Rolkien Rolkien Tolkien, especially Peter Jackson's Fellowship of the Ring, Extended Version: Favorite movie. Nostalgia factor. Gandalf. Viggo Mortensen ruining all other men for me. Boromir being a Good Man. The soundtrack of this movie is Home to me.
3. The Goblin Wood, book by Hilari Bell: Friendship, magic, and angry, vengeful witches. Anti-colonialism. Great take on magic. Questioning dogma and learning how not to be a cop. A crotchety goblin named Cogswhallop who is my best friend.
3. Big Fish: Movie with Albert Finney, Ewan Mcgregor, and Marion Cotillard my beloved. Whimsical, heartwarming, and profoundly bittersweet story about people learning to communicate and share in each other's lives. I really just fucking love this movie.
4. ⭐ A Silent Voice: Japanese animated movie about a former bully learning to not hate himself, a deaf girl learning self-worth, and a lot of people learning to be friends. Fucking stunning visuals and music. Another profoundly bittersweet one with a happy ending, and one I wish I'd seen earlier in my life. Content warning: two suicide attempts.
5. Mo Dao Zu Shi, by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu: Chinese web novel with several adaptations, about a lot of fascinating topics with oceans of nuance because MXTX is a genius tbh, but largely about questioning convention and doing the right thing, the different ways in which people can love, the meanings of bravery, and some zombies. I also love her novel Tian Guan Ci Fu but have to analyze the themes a little more before I can confidently talk about what it means? It's fucking incredible though (and like twice as long lol)
6. No. 6, by Atsuko Asano: Japanese web novel with a manga and anime adaptation (manga is the best): honestly just a fun time about destroying The System with gay love and bees. Deuteragonist is an edgy dumbass who lived in a cave, blows up government vehicles, and quotes too much Shakespeare. To this day I am endlessly entertained by Nezumi.
7. The Kingkiller Chronicles, by Patrick Rothfuss: Book series comprising The Name of the Wind and Wise Man's Fear. Someday will include the final book, Doors of Stone. Epic fantasy story about a bard-rogue-wizard with delusions of grandeur giving his memoir after all the damage he's caused. Involves the COOLEST magic systems in one world, does an amazing job of establishing a truly low-fantasy-feeling but simultaneously deeply mystical environment, and has exactly the kind of compelling eccentricity that I love in characters. Beautifully poetic prose.
8. Dragon Age: rpg video game series about a series of Unfortunate World Events. You play a different character in each game, the protagonist at the center of one catastrophe or another, and they all tie in beautifully in the overall world story progression. The characters you meet are multidimensional and SO worth analyzing, because they're all fascinating and flawed people (except Varric Tethras, who is Perfect and The Love of my Life (my wife knows and accepts this)).
9. ⭐ Gates of Fire, by Steven Pressfield: Okay, FUCK THIS BOOK for being about the battle of Thermopylae where you know EXACTLY how that ended for the defending army and MAKING YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH THE CHARACTERS ANYWAY. Insanely well-researched historical fiction. Sympathetic to the subject and emotionally and socially insightful to a devastating degree. The best representation of the camaraderie and friendship in warrior culture without all the awful macho bullshit we've come to expect and loathe. They really ask the question "what is the opposite of fear" and come to the answer "love." I have broken down sobbing while reading a story three times in my life, and TWO of those times were from this book. Seriously, fuck this book. I will never write half as well as Steven Pressfield.
10. ⭐ It's Such a Beautiful Day, by Don Hertzfeldt: Remember the animation show on YouTube, that absurdist hand-drawn animation with the robots? Yeah that guy made a whole emotionally gutting, bittersweet movie about the nature of life and coming to terms with the end of it. Intergenerational trauma, chronic illness, and a lot of introspection. Beautifully paced storytelling. This is an Important Movie. It's not immediately stylistically accessible to everyone, but seriously, open your heart and branch out. This movie made me a little more whole.
If I had to pick three of these to shove in people's faces, it would be the starred and red ones lol. Not enough people know about them or have taken the time to appreciate them.
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27emailsicantsend · 2 years
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Root Beer, Rina, and Change
I made a post about this awhile ago, but I cannot find it for the life of me.
Symbolism is super important in shows. Typically, an object, place, or phrase can stand for or foreshadow something important that will happen in the show. Not everything is symbolic, but there is a good chance that if something is brought up continuously or if it feels like dialogue is stretched/a scene is slowed down: it’s symbolic. One of the biggest things/symbols I have seen in HSMTMTS is Root Beer. It’s not JUST the Root Beer, but the people and events that happen around it. To me it’s the show runners way of saying “hey, you heard the key word! Pay attention!”
I have been trying to link up every evidence of Root Beer appearing in the show (if you guys find anymore, feel free to reblog with them), but here is what I have so far:
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Season 1, Episode 7 Thanksgiving
Gina and Nini both go to the kitchen for root beers. Both make up after the “Wonderstudy” catastrophe. Nini had also been jealous of Gina spending so much time with Ricky up to this point. Nini talks about how much she wish she could leave, while Gina talks about how much she wish she could stay put. Nini invites Gina to her first sleep over.
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Season 2, Episode 1 New Year’s Eve
While not directly addressed, Root Beer is placed directly in camera shot- label in the foreground. In this scene, Ricky’s dad thanks him for staying home for Christmas (rather than being in Chicago) and then tells Ricky they’re moving. The bell rings, in which Ricky says it’s Nini arriving.
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Season 2, Episode 1 New Year’s Eve
Another scene where it’s not addressed, but it is obviously EJ arriving with Root Beer. EJ tells Ashlyn (+Carlos) how much he’s changing from growing a beard (being an adult/senior), taking a break from social media, and volunteering at the soup kitchen. Gina eavesdrops when she finds out EJ doesn’t know what the next play is going to be (which at this point they all thought was HSM2).
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Season 2, Episode 1 New Year’s Eve
Gina is sitting down and Ricky sits down between her and Nini. He gives Gina a head nod and she sort of.. glares at him? Is the best way I can put it? She announces she is getting a root beer then asks if anyone wants any. Ashlyn replies saying she is ok. After Gina walks away, Ricky looks back at her giving a surprised and confused face.
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Season 2, Episode 10
The girls (+Seb) are sitting around and Ashlyn blurts out about the chocolates Gina thought Ricky gave her (this was right after them all talking about how EJ could have a thing for Gina and Gina getting Ashlyn’s blessing [and somewhat Nini’s because she was hyping up the relationship- didn’t seem upset at all about it]). Gina explains that it was a misunderstanding, but doesn’t neglect to say that she thought it meant more than something friendly. Nini gets upset, wondering why she had never heard about it. Gina tries to say it wasn’t a big deal and Ashlyn tries to say it was just a really funny joke. Kourtney then tries to diffuse the situation by saying they should move on from the subject and at the exact same time, Nini announces she is going to get a Root Beer.
This was all I have seen so far, but these scenes are HUGE. Some common things I’ve noticed with them:
They all deal with the core 4
Ashlyn seems to be widely involved in them as well
When things are awkward, root beer is used as an escape
Each of the scenes involve big discussions around change and main character arcs
So, there are many things the Root Beer could symbolize:
Change (and avoiding/accepting it)
Character arcs
Major turning points in the story
Theory Time
So what does this mean for Rina?
I actually think it means a lot. Every time Root Beer is shown, it is addressing something greater within the story. With Ricky, it shows his unwillingness to accept change (why he didn’t choose Gina instead of someone familiar). With EJ, it shows his desire to be seen as more and growing up (something beyond Gina’s age right now). Nini it shows her separation/need for separation from her life in SLC (including Ricky). And who have we said from the beginning that we think is going to help get Ricky and Gina together? Ashlyn. She is almost always involved in these scenes, asking questions, diffusing awkwardness… anything. I think she is going to have a major part in finally connecting Gina and Ricky. Whether that’s her talking to her cousin (EJ) or supporting her housemate (who she knows about what happened with Ricky) in getting them together… I think she is the piece that will tie Rina together, help EJ let go of high school/relationships with that and grow up, and encourage Nini to write songs/follow her dreams with Gina’s brother (which is cool because Nini discovered Ashlyn playing the piano/writing songs and then they wrote a song together S2).
Root Beer was just the evidence along the way.
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kanaqwqbear · 2 years
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Unspoken Affection
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Pairing: Shu Yamino (NIJISANJI EN) & Elira Pendora (NIJISANJI EN)
Content: School AU | Fluff | Comfort | Extremely self-indulgent | Implied Romantic Relationship
When Shu knows what to do without Elira telling him.
It was a pleasant afternoon but a certain someone's mood wasn't the same. Half an hour left before class was finished, Elira was quietly watching the ticking of the clock instead of listening to the lecture in front of her.
'I wish time went a bit faster today' she thought. Her social battery was completely drained since many people came up and asked her for help throughout the day. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she got tired, that's all.
The bell finally rings and Elira sighs in relief. She packs her things and bids goodbye to her seatmate, Pomu, and headed to the park where she usually meets up with Shu.
Elira arrives at the park and sees Shu sitting down near the water fountain located by the side of park. He was sitting down looking at his surroundings until he gazes upon her figure in the distance. Shu's face lights up and he stares at Elira as she walks until he notices something amiss.
He understood immediately, gave a comforting smile, and pats the seat next to him, signing her to sit down next to him, which she does. Her bag drops to her side as she leans her head on top of his shoulder, not saying a thing. Shu hums a certain tune until seconds later, he laid her head on his lap.
The girl gazes up at him with a tired look, then closes her eyes, as she feels his hand removing the strands of hair from her face. Shu stares at Elira for a bit longer until he lowers his head and whispers,
"As much as I know you're tired, why don't we go home, hm?" Elira opened her eyes, "Yeah, I'd like that," as she stares at him for a few seconds until he pulled back and helped her stand up.
The pair headed to her home and once they arrived, Shu sat down in the living room and started to scroll on his phone, while Elira headed straight to her room to change her clothes, as well as get clothes for Shu.
'I remember him leaving some clothes here... Oh, there they were.' she grabbed the pair of clothes and went to where he was and handed it to them.
"Thanks, let me go change then," Shu excused himself and walked towards the bathroom. Elira went to the kitchen and was just pacing around, opening and closing cupboards and cabinets, trying to find something to eat, but alas, she couldn't find anything that piqued her interest.
She walks back to the living room only to see Shu laying down scrolling through something on his phone again, but with the clothes he wore the last time he was here. He kept scrolling until he noticed a pair of eyes on him, he hummed, seemingly asking what was wrong until he realized, 'Ah...'
Shu opened his arms, inviting her for an embrace. Elira did not hesitate to accept the invitation; she immediately drops into his arms and is currently on top of him.
He tightens his hold as he caresses her head, making sure they were both viewing whatever was on his phone. "Did you have a rough day today? Do you want to talk about it?" He begins, while skipping to the next TikTok video.
"I just got pretty drained today... Nothing really new." Elira mumbled but enough for him to hear. Shu stops his caresses and tilts his head slightly to look at her. "'Nothing new'? Well, if you don't want to talk about it, it's okay too."
Elira further buries her head into his chest, signing him to keep caressing her head, and he does. Suddenly, a grumble sound was heard.
"So... You hungry?" Shu breaks the silence and laughed a bit, as Elira nodded in embarrassment.
The night continues with Elira indulging herself in the comfort of her boyfriend's arms while Shu ordered delivery food for his very tired girlfriend.
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268
V recommends catarrh pastilles for my new, constant and futile need to clear my throat, leftover from a cold I never had. I would never bring this malady to a doctor because I already know the lifestyle choices that led me to the waiting room, and how little I wish to change them. If mucus living forever in the no-man's land between my nose and oesophagus is the price of admission to enjoying cigarettes in winter, so be it. And yet please god, or Boots pharmacy, remove this mucus immediately, I am not in the business of "ramifications" for "bad habits". The pastilles are bitter like an art school professor which, in that specific way medicine which burns or tastes bad feels like it must be working, works
C goes to Marseille to meet friends of ours from our teens. "Friends" is a loose term for my relation to them - they were a group of boys I wanted nothing but acceptance from. I shared a bed with one between psychiatric units in 2008, and he wet and soiled himself from being so drunk. C has kept in touch while he and I have outperformed them in basic adulthood milestones. He promises to report back on how broke and alcohol-dependent they all are, with plenty of unflattering photos for me to gaze at next week and feel smug about having a mortgage
Before she flies to Hong Kong, V sits in my studio on Friday drained by the week's social obligations. She is tearful, which is relatively rare considering she gives so much to everybody in her orbit and takes so little. How she deals with artists on a regular basis is beyond me, since we can be so awful. We also have two distinct sides to us that require constant management, our actual selves / egos and then our practices / careers. Often these two sides are more at war than in harmony. The ethics and sentiments of The Work aren't always the same ones an artist upholds in their character, and this is exhausting for everybody, including the artist. We are expensive - emotionally and often financially - to keep. I cherish my closeness to V and the trust she places in me to be able to switch into friend-mode and vent a little. It keeps my own gratitude for her in check, and reminds me that making money for the gallery is but one shred of what it means for me to be with the gallery. To all artists: making good work does not excuse bad behaviour!!
The NHS sent me a letter asking me to take part in a blood pressure trial. "A chance to learn more about your blood pressure". Instagram shows me a video of a German woman demonstrating four rules for "Clubmoves" - how to dance to music made by and for the Latino community. The fourth rule is "just have fun". N recommends a TV show called The Bear to me and I quickly decide its star actor Jeremy Allen White is the hottest man I've ever seen. After a couple of years of friendship, I now know when N is texting me without looking at my phone, just from the cadence and volume of vibrations I feel in my pocket. She likes to send between 4 and 24 short iMessages at a time
I have never received so much hate on the roads while biking around as I have this weekend. Two "cunt"s from drunk men jaywalking, a Lucozade bottle thrown at me from a window (this was an accident but still felt aggressive), and a fellow female cyclist telling me to "calm the fuck down" when I ring my bell to overtake her. I wish I could, strange woman, I wish I could
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dollslayer · 3 years
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Botanical Interest - For Luck
Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x Florist!Reader
Summary: Steve introduces you to some of the most important people in his life, but are you ready for all that comes with it?
W/C: 4,743
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, angst, gambling
A/N: When I saw @redhead-wine-and-literature-club was doing a floral based challenge I couldn't pass up the opportunity to add to this series! April 28th - Cornflower - good-luck charm. Even though this is part of a series of oneshots it can be read as a standalone! If you like it please like/reblog/comment and check out my other fics! Cheers!
Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist
The sunlight through the windows warms your skin while the breeze of the small fan on the counter gives you goosebumps. Dog days of Summer slowly set in over the city and with them came a slight dip in business. No one wants a rooftop wedding when it’s 100 degrees out and the drinks are watered down with sweat. You didn’t mind though, it let you put in a little extra time and care to the orders you did have.
You picked up a stem of cornflower and nestled it between snapdragons and lisianthus. It was so dreamy you couldn’t help but sigh, you almost wished it was for yourself. It was for an elopement, an eager young couple came in this morning all smiles asking if you could take the last minute order. Feeling a little sappy from your own relationship you couldn’t turn them down.
You started in on the boutonniere when the music you had on was paused. Curious, you looked at your phone to find you had an incoming call. You balanced the phone in between your shoulder and ear as you gathered supplies.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Doll. How are you?” Steve’s warm voice greeted you.
You smiled into the receiver. “I’m good, just working on the last order of the day. What are you up to?”
“Well actually that’s what I called to ask you. You free tonight?”
“You can meet me at the shop in an hour. Sound good?” You promised.
“Sounds like a plan. I love you, doll, I’ll see you soon.”
After returning his affections you hung up and set to work, excited to be finished and see Steve. Despite his involvement with the mob, which neither of you had really addressed head-on yet, things were going really well. Even though he was involved with murky dealings he was sweet to you and you were in love with him. You tried to plan your night with Steve in your head as you worked.
____
The ringing of a bell roused you from your work, expecting to see the young couple here to pick up their flowers. You were instead face to face with Steve’s handsome smirk and playful eyes. Your smile grew wider as he approached the counter. You held the boutonniere up to the lapel of his jacket and eyed it from a distance.
“Do I have a hot date I didn’t know about?” He joked.
“No!” You giggled, “The flowers are for a couple that came in the shop this morning, they’re going to elope and the groom’s got your complexion, thought I’d see how this looks on you before I finish”
“Oh? And how do I look as a groom?” He questioned.
Your cheeks heated instantly and you felt shy. You managed to squeak out that he looked nice before you had to turn away to box up the flowers. You couldn’t help the stupid smile on your face. You and Steve never talked about marriage before but things were getting serious between you. Maybe he just felt extra cheeky today.
“I like the blue, very colorful”
“They’re cornflowers, they’re a good luck charm! I figured they were fitting for their little wedding. So what did you have in mind for tonight? It’s too hot to sit on the patio but I’ve got a pint of ice cream with our names on it in the freezer at home” You raised your eyebrows in offer.
“Well actually, I was hoping you could be my good luck charm tonight. Bucky’s got a few of us getting together tonight for poker and you’ve yet to meet my friends. What do you say?”
Oh. You weren’t sure what to say. You hadn’t met his friends yet because you were uncomfortable with his mob work and you knew they were involved. But you also knew they were his friends and they were important to him. It’s not like you could avoid them forever. Poker with a mob boss? Sure why not?
You put on a slightly uneasy smile and nodded.
“Well I have to tell you, I haven’t played in forever but I would love to meet your friends” You told him.
“I promise, no shop talk. But I’ve been telling them about you. Buck’s wife Natasha has been dying to meet you. I also promise not to make you play poker.” He said with an easy grin.
“Alright, I just have to wait on this couple to pick up their flowers and close up. Shouldn’t be more than 20 minutes. You can wait here if you want but I’ve got no A/C”
Steve nodded and took off his jacket. He rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie.
“For you? I’ll sweat it out.” He said.
____
After a quick pit stop at your place to change you were on your way. You smiled in the passenger’s seat, still reeling from the look on the young bride’s face when she saw her bouquet. That was undoubtedly the best part of your job, seeing the joy on your customer’s faces when they saw their arrangements. Maybe this feeling could carry you through the night.
The tires of Steve’s Audi crunched under the gravel of the long driveway up to Bucky’s estate. Steve told you he had a townhouse in Brooklyn but for the most part they stayed at their estate outside of the city. You looked up at the facade of the house and admired the ivy that clung to the bricks.
Parking the car Steve got out and quickly made his way to your side to let you out. Just one of the many old-fashioned quirks that he had. You accepted his hand as he helped you out of the car and leaned up to kiss his cheek. His hand traveled down to rub your back reassuringly. You looked up at him.
“Don’t worry, they’ll love you. Natasha can be intense but she means well. Just be yourself and they’ll love you just as much as I do.” He kissed your hair to soothe you and lead you towards the door.
Steve nodded at the man at the door. “Scott. Nice to see you, this is my girlfriend”
You smiled and gave him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Scott”.
He smiled and greeted you in kind, lifting his hand to shake yours. When he did his jacket rode up and you could see the holster and butt of his gun. You ignored it and shook his hand.
Scott opened the door for you and you entered the house. Mansion, might be a better word honestly. Marble floors, oak woodwork, all the look of any house you’d find in the area and all in line with how you’d think a rich mob boss might live. The foyer was empty but you could hear voices in the distance.
Steve waltzed through the halls like he lived here, when he was at work he probably practically did. The space was teeming with energy as they bantered on with trash talk and promises of beating one another. Men sat at a round table drinking, waiting to deal cards and women standing around sipping on wine.
One man looked familiar from the pictures you’d seen around Steve’s place. His sharp jaw and long dark hair drew your attention instantly; Bucky Barnes, King of Brooklyn. His brows were pinched together in a scowl but he had a playful grin on his face. You steeled yourself the best you could and prepared for your introduction. Just think of him as Steve’s childhood best friend.
“Steve! ‘Bout time you showed up you bastard!” an accented voice belonging to a tall blond man with long hair called. He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “And are you the enchantress that our dear friend goes on and on about? Now that I’m meeting you I can see why!”
Steve let out an embarrassed laugh and motioned towards his friend. “This is Thor, don’t let the muscle fool you, he’s a total teddy bear”
You gave him your name and extended your hand when he brought you in for a bone-crushing hug. You let out a laugh and hugged him back, grateful for something to ease the tension you felt.
“How’s that for a warm welcome, huh?” A voice sounded from behind you.
Thor released you from your hug and you took a desperately needed breath. He patted you on the shoulder.
“Wanted to make our dear Steven’s girl feel at home, that’s all” Thor explained. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to beating your boyfriend at poker.” You laughed at that and turned to face the man who spoke earlier.
That man was none other than Bucky, who reached out for your hand. You gave it to him and he instead lifted it to give a gentle kiss.
“I can’t believe I’m meeting the one and only. Stevie here won’t shut up about you sometimes. I’m Bucky but I’m sure you already knew that.”
“I’ve heard about you too, it’s nice to finally meet.” You nodded as you took your hand back.
“I’m afraid I need to steal your man, we’ve been waiting on him to start the game but tell you what, why don’t you go find my wife Natasha, I know she’s been dying to meet you.”
Great, not at all intimidating. Okay fine just smile and breathe. Maybe get a drink. You smiled at Bucky. “The redhead, right?” He nodded and sent you on your way. One last look at Steve you shot him a worried look but he only winked at you.
You looked around the room and shrunk in on yourself a bit. You were never the best with social outings or being in new environments. You looked around again and found the very redhead you had been in search of smirking at you from the corner. She was dressed in a sleek black dress and looked effortlessly beautiful but also like she could strangle a man with her bare hands. You steeled yourself with a smile you’re sure she saw straight through.
“So you’re the one responsible for the flowers at my wedding?” You nodded Pleasesayyoulikedthempleasesayyoulikedthem “I loved them! The wedding planner recommended you and I’m so glad she did. It’s so hard to find a good color pallet but you nailed it. Come on, you need a drink then I’ll introduce you to the girls”
She ushered you towards the kitchen where she took the waiting wine glass from the counter and handed it to you. You didn’t like red but you’d drink it anyways. You brought the glass to your lips and took a sip.
You two talked for a bit in the kitchen, maybe she wasn’t as scary as she seemed. You tipped the stem of your glass until there was nothing left. Before you could ask for different wine she was topping you off from the same bottle. Another round of apprehensive sips and hidden grimaces but you thanked her regardless. It was now your goal to find the sociable sweet spot of drunkenness. You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks from the alcohol as tipsiness settled in.
Natasha raised an eyebrow and considered you for a moment.
“So how are you handling the whole organized crime thing? Gotta say, I didn’t peg you as his type but you guys are cute.”
You stopped yourself from spitting the wine in your mouth back into the glass.
“Um, thanks, I guess” You sputtered, “we uh, try to keep things separate. Figure it’s best for both of us.”
Natasha nodded, taking another drink herself.
“That’s probably best but I mean, how long can you keep that up, really?” She asked
You hated to admit it but she had a point. It’s not like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. You opened your mouth to answer her when a man walked into the room and called your name. You looked expectantly (and slightly gratefully) towards him.
“I believe your man has requested your presence at the table. Somethin’ about needing a cornflower? I don’t know he said you’d get it. What are you two gossipin’ about in here anyways?” He questioned.
Natasha spoke before you could “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, Sam. We’re right behind you.” Sam nodded and retreated back to the doorway to wait for you.
Natasha touched your shoulder and you looked to her.
“Look, I didn’t mean to come off so brash, I guess I’m just trying to say, I know that being involved in this life isn’t easy. We’ll swap numbers later. Maybe we’ll go to lunch” She winked at you. You couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not but you nodded anyways.
“I-Thank you, I think I’d like that. I’d better go find Steve though” you excused yourself and made your way back to the table.
____
Steve Rogers was having a good night. He finally got to introduce his friends to his girl, she seemed to be relaxing a bit and having a better time, and he was well on his way to getting a straight flush this hand. The only thing that would seal the deal is his good luck charm by his side.
Steve called to Sam across the room and as soon as Sam walked over and bent Steve spoke.
“Sam, could you do me a solid and find my girl? Think she went to get a drink with Nat. Tell her I need cornflowers”
“Man if this is some weird sex thing I’m gonna be mad” Sam said with a mixture of confusion and disgust.
“Oh, please. Nothin’ like that, promise. She’ll know what it means.” Steve pat his friend on the shoulder and paid attention as Thor dealt cards.
A minute later his girl was walking through the door with an uneasy smile on her face. Something is wrong but he can’t gauge how serious it is. Sam says something to make her laugh and he settles on asking her later. Natasha saunters out behind them looking almost amused but cautious. Like she was regretting something. She’d probably just tried to give his girl the third degree when Sam interrupted them. It’s for the best, that’s too much for one night.
His girl smiles as she approaches him, looking slightly more at ease when she takes another sip of her wine. Her smile was a little looser and she moved a bit more freely, definitely tipsy and completely adorable with that grin on her lips.
“How are things going over here for you boys?”
Gauging how tipsy she was, he patted his knee in offering and she took it with a shy smile. Only slightly. But enough not to worry so much.
“Well, sweetheart, I’m about to kick all their asses and I figured I could use a good luck charm to seal the deal.” He boasted.
“Oh,” she said in realization, “Then I’m all yours”. She settled into his lap and watched on.
Her face was nothing short of endearing as she tried to concentrate and take in the game. He remembered she said she hadn’t been good at poker but it was sweet she was trying to pay attention anyways and be there for him.
“What’s the pot?” She asked.
“Nothin’ serious, there’s a pretty nice box of cigars and a weekend at Buck’s place in the Hamptons in the mix but we don’t do cash at get togethers like this, that’s for boy’s nights only.” He explained as he rubbed her back with his free hand. “Tonight’s just about fun”
She nodded as she studied the table some more before resigning to laying her head against his and listening to whatever bullshit Clint was on about. Steve was focused on getting others at the table to fold, he knew he had a good hand and a good chance of winning, he just needed the others to back down to bring it home.
Thor placed the final community card face up and Steve set out a low whistle. Others at the table looked a little miffed but he just knew he was taking it all. He set down his cards to a chorus of groans as he raked all the chips towards himself. You placed a kiss to his temple and he returned one to your cheek.
“Just the good luck I needed” he said loud enough for the table to hear.
“Hey Steve you gotta come see this!”
Steve tsked in annoyance. “Can it wait? I’m up and we were gonna keep playing. I’ll be there after”
“No, you should go. Let her play a hand for you, we can get to know each other better” Bucky suggested.
“Oh, I don’t think you want me playing poker.” She laughed but nervousness was the only emotion he could see on your face. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off.
“She’ll be fine, we’ll go easy on her, I mean it. If it makes you feel better we’ll even hold the pot. This round is just for shits.” Bucky insisted.
Caught between wanting to ask how you felt about it and not wanting to get flak about being so sensitive Steve tilted his head in silent asking at you.
You gave him the same unsure smile you’d had all night and nodded up at him. “I’ll be fine, Stevie, promise.”
He gave her a reassuring smile and then turned his eye to Bucky who was all smiles. He knew exactly what Bucky was trying to do. Buck knows she doesn’t know anything but he’s gonna turn the screws on her just like he does with anyone new at the table. Steve gave him a stern expression in warning. Don’t scare her off.
____
You could hear your heart beating in your ears as you tried to decide what to do. Take it slow. You told yourself. You looked up to find all the eyes at the table on you and did your best to calm yourself.
“So who’s dealing?” A man you hadn’t previously met swiped the cards and began shuffling.
“Look, I know we said we’d put the pot on hold but Laura’s been bugging me about a vacation and I don’t know that I can pass up this opportunity to steal from Steve so easily, so” The man you’d come to know as Clint trailed off. You did your best not to be offended.
“Shut up, Barton. I promised Steve, we just wanna have a little fun, don’t we?” Bucky asked.
Is he asking me?
You decided to take a sip of your wine instead and he chuckled.
“So,” Bucky turned to you, “I know that you know about what we do, there’s no point in denying it. The question is are you going to be a problem for us or do you know how to keep things to yourself?”
Frozen in fear you could only manage to look at the rest of the table, hoping to find that this was all a joke. Instead, every face looking to you was stony and waiting on an answer. God, this man was made for Natasha, that much is clear. Your eyes darted around the room looking for an out. Where is Steve? Where the fuck is Steve?
You don’t find him, but you do find Natasha looking at you, she smiles and looks to her husband before she shakes her head. She makes her way over to her husband and lightly smacks him in the back of the head.
The look of surprise on his face ruins his silent and aggressive front as he winces in pain. He looks in slight annoyance at his wife as she tsks at him.
“Will you stop already? She’s a smart girl and you don’t need to go scaring her off. In fact, I hope she beats you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did.” Natasha sounded so confident. You warmed to the fact that she was in your corner when you were practically a stranger in her home.
“Aw c’mon, Babe, I was only messin’ with her.” Bucky turned to Nat and she just challenged him with a smile.
You didn’t know why Natasha has suddenly become so supportive, maybe she felt bad about earlier but you were grateful to her. She pulled up a chair between the two of you to watch and motioned to the dealer to continue. You finished your second glass and prepared yourself for the night ahead. Any chance they had of you going easy on them went out the window.
____
You lost the first hand graciously, saying you hadn’t played poker since you were in college as an excuse for your loss. But when Steve was still busy and Bucky offered another round you accepted. You decided to put your full effort in this time.
Twenty minutes later everyone at the table was feeling confident in their hands, staring at each other like some sort of Mexican standoff, willing the others to fold. You could tell by the way Clint kept scratching the cut on his chin that he was screwed and he knew it. Thor couldn’t go more than 5 seconds without nervous laughing.
But Bucky? He was a tough read but about half way through the round his leg started bouncing. You knew this because he was bumping into Natasha, who’s wine was sloshing around in the glass despite her stillness. These clods didn’t stand a chance.
The dealer, Vision, you’d learned, called for everyone to show their cards. Here goes. One by one everyone set their cards down until finally it was your turn. You set them down but focused on your opponents faces. Everyone looked confused, shocked even. You had laid down a royal flush and handily smoked them all.
“Holy shit”
“Holy shit indeed”
“Told you so” Nat teased.
You smiled at all of them and drank from your newly topped off glass of wine - white this time. A warm pair of hands rested on your shoulders and you looked up to find Steve smiling down at you.
“What’s going on over here, gentlemen?”
“Well, Steve, I think your girl is hustlin’ us. Thought you said you hadn’t played since college?” Bucky turned to you. You couldn’t gauge how angry he was but you decided to be honest.
“I haven’t,” you began, “But when I did I was pretty damn good. You just assumed I didn’t know what I was doing.” You shrugged.
The room was tense, it felt like everyone was looking to Bucky to see what to do next. He broke out into a wide smile and a low chuckle turned into hearty laugh. Everyone visibly relaxed.
“I gotta say, Steve. She isn’t what I expected, but she’s sure somethin’”
“A girl after my own heart” Natasha added.
Steve bent down to kiss your head. You stood from the table and offered him your seat. Nat put a hand on your shoulder.
“Steve I’m going to steal her again, the girls will probably want to hear all about your little cardshark.”
____
He had to admit, he was completely blown away by your little stunt at the table. He thought back to earlier when you watched him play. You weren’t trying to desperately understand the game, you were studying your opponents. He couldn’t deny it was kinda hot. You were full of surprises.
He smiled thinking that you were no different than the day you met, timid but aggressive when you need to be. That’s my girl.
The rest of the night came and went without incident, Steve didn’t end up taking home the pot but he did have a conversation with Bucky.
“She and I don’t talk about work. She knows that what we do isn’t exactly reputable but let’s face it, anyone in Brooklyn would. She doesn’t know and she doesn’t want to.”
Bucky took a long drag from his glass of bourbon and nodded.
“But if she ever did I hope she’s smart enough to know she has to keep what she knows to herself. We can’t afford any slip ups.”
Steve’s fists clenched and he controlled his anger enough not to snap at Bucky. He was his best friend but Bucky was still the boss and Steve knew how much was at stake.
“Not that it’s any of my business but you love this girl, right?” Steve swallowed thickly and nodded.
“Then how the hell are you gonna manage that? Keepin’ your two worlds separate? I mean, you just gonna walk her down the aisle and live happily forever keeping half your life from her? I need to know that if push came to shove she wouldn’t sell us out. Things are fine for now but you know that you’re either in or you’re out. I care about you, Steve, you’re my best friend but you need to see straight.”
Steve looked away, his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. He knew Bucky was right. He loved you but he owed his life to Bucky, he was his brother. But he loved you. They were careful in their work and he knew any feds that tried to come after them wouldn’t find a thing. He could put this issue into a box and seal the lid tightly, at least for a while.
“I know you’re right. I love her and she’s a good woman. She wouldn’t say anything because she doesn’t know anything. And she never will.”
He left Bucky to stand on his own in search of you. He found you laughing with Laura, Wanda and Nat. He smiled at how welcomed you seemed to feel despite the rocky start.
“You ready to go, doll?”
You turned around and smiled at him. You looked back at the girls and then reluctantly back to him but nodded.
“Guess we’d better go, I’ve got to get down to the flower market at open tomorrow morning”
____
After a very long round of goodbyes you swapped numbers with Nat with promises of future lunch plans. The night had turned out worlds better than you thought that it would. You served a bunch of men their own egos on a silver platter and didn’t get murdered for it and you even made friends.
Still though Nat’s words echoed in your mind ‘how long can you keep that up, really?’ Little did you know but the same thoughts troubled Steve. You knew eventually you would have to make a choice if you ever wanted to get more serious than you were with each other, you just didn’t know what choice you’d make.
The ride home was quiet but not tense. He held your hand a little tighter than usual but you thought maybe he was just excited you had gotten on so well with your friends. He pulled up to your building and put the car in park.
“So do you think they liked me? I mean, other than hustling them at poker I’d say I made a pretty good impression”
Steve chuckled, “Yeah, doll. Gotta say, the whole cardshark thing? Kinda hot, didn’t know you had that in you, you little fiend.”
You rolled your eyes playfully and grinned at him. “I wasn’t gonna but Clint started talking shit.”
“Then he deserved his ass kicked” Steve joked. “I’d come up but I know you’ve got an early morning. Thank you for coming and meeting everyone tonight, I know that you want to keep things separate but these people are family to me, it means a lot that you met them”
You nodded and smiled. You told yourself you didn’t need to make the choice between getting involved with his work and keeping it apart from the other aspects of your life but it seems that by meeting them you had already made one.
Maybe you could talk more to Nat about this, she’d know what your situation is like more than anyone. For now though you decided to focus on the present reality, you had a good night and you had fun and now you’re about to kiss the man you love.
“Of course” you whispered. You kissed him slowly, trying to put off the sleepless night you were surely about to have.
“Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you”
“I love you too, Stevie”
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captnjacksparrow · 3 years
Note
I wish people would stop caring about the canon pairings and marriages in Naruto/Boruto because they should have absolutely no relevance for SNS shippers in terms of validating said ship. Those who say we are delusional because “Well, Naruto married Hinata so she is THE one he loves!” (I'll focus more on Naruto's marriage here... Is Sasuke's even a marriage?) simply don’t get that it just doesn't really matter who Naruto and Sasuke married because that in no way diminishes their feelings for each other. The main plot of the series revolves around the bond between Naruto and Sasuke. It is their story. They are each other's most important people and this was established back in Land of Waves arc even before the dramatic events that take place on the bridge - the whole point of that very first arc was making this a fact right from the beginning, because the story has always been and was always supposed to be about the two of them and the profound love and understanding that grows between them ever since they exchanged glances, smiles and pouts as lonely little broken kids. No reason to list all proof of their feelings and bond here, it has been done extensively, and if somebody watched the show/read the manga and missed it, they are missing half a brain. That these boys love each other more than anyone else is absolutely obvious.
So what about the canon pairings? Kishimoto stated time and time again that his focus was never romance, and that is not because he can't write romance as we know it (he clearly did), but it’s a matter of concept: what HE considers romance is the attraction that unites people with the purpose of marriage (confessing your romantic love for japanese people is the same as saying you want to be in a relationship, because feelings shouldn’t be voiced without an intention), and that, to him, is NOT the greatest expression of love, nor does it represent the most special bond two people can share.
It is understandable that westerners put so much weight into marriage because we consider it the epitome of love. Well, the truth is marriage in Japanese culture is mainly the only socially admissible means to have children and has very little to do with romantic love. In fact, in Japanese literature, it is much more common for unmarried couples to love each other than married ones. Obviously, there is no absolute truth when it comes to feelings and human relationships, what I'm doing here is generalising social norms and expectations (not exposing my opinion on them - that would turn this rant into something else entirely). A large number of Japanese marriages are loveless (and arranged, but no point getting into that either) and what motivates choosing a spouse is their ability to fulfill familial duties, meaning: is the woman good mother and consequently wife material? Is she going to devote her life to taking care of her children, house and husband, the noblest of acts for a female? Is the man willing and capable of putting his occupation above everything else, working extremely hard and for long hours, with total dedication and diligence for his job, to the point of not even seeing his family most of the time, as an honorable man should do as a provider? That's what makes a GOOD married couple: two people following their expected and strict gender-roles in a nuclear child-centered family (again, please, this is not MY opinion!). What a Japanese man should want in a woman is for her to be a dedicated housewife and mother, since having children outside of marriage is not only frowned upon, it is not acceptable at all, and not being married with children is not respectable enough (same with being divorced). Marriage is, therefore, NOT a symbol of undying love and a deep and special connection between two people, rather, it’s a partnership established with the goal of having and raising children.
Do these descriptions ring any bells?
In conclusion: the pairings were, in fact, created for the sole purpose of bringing forth the next generation, and that was made CANONICALLY true. Would it have been better if they hadn’t gone down that "safe" route? Hell, yeah! It would have been fucking amazing and could even have been groundbraking, for several reasons. BUT as unsatisfying as it may be, the fact is they chose a very TRADITIONAL depiction of marriage that has little to do with feelings, and that in itself shouldn’t be taken lightly, since it leaves the strongest bond, which is grounded on genuine love, untouched. In this scenario, justifying romantic love through marriage alone won’t cut it, and trying to discredit the obvious unmatched connection and feelings between two characters because they never got married to each other or married someone else is ludicrous. Yeah, a married couple can love each other deeply and above anyone else, but that is just not what marriage is ABOUT in Japanese culture and definitely not what Kishimoto wanted us to believe was the case here after dedicating 699 chapters to a story about the special bond between two boys that didn’t culminate in marriage. 
You know what IS a symbol of romantic love in Japan? Being willing to die together when the love you feel goes against your moral obligations, holding on to the belief that you will be reunited in the afterlife, where you will be free of any burden and able to love freely.
Are more bells being rung?! 
Oh, some bonus info: We also tend to associate sex with romantic love. Well, Japanese married couples with children rarely have sex, if at all. After a woman becomes a mother, she is no longer considered sexually desirable and becomes a mother figure to her husband as well (what happened to Hinata’s big "attributes" in Boruto? Huh). This is especially true when couples sleep in separate rooms and the mother shares a bed with her children. (Hinata co-sleeps with Himawari and we know Naruto sleeps in a separate room. Just saying.)
What's your say?
Is Sasuke's even a marriage?
Geezz!!!! LoLLLLL!!!! This sentence just made me cackle so hard for a good 5 minutes, Anon!!!!!
Hmmm.... So let's get back to your ask.
Well, I don't know how to react to this ask, Anon. Because, I don't know whether you are from Japan or you have a very close Japanese friend who might've told you all these cultural thing about marriage and relationships.
So, what I am going to do is to analyze from the facts you have provided , combine with my own cultural relevance and provide my answer. If there is any Japanese readers who are reading this, you can confirm or dispel this by sending me an ask. But again, I don't want exceptional case like, 'No, my family is different'. I want to know about the general lifestyle of a common citizen and their married life.
Having said that, this ask made me just yell at myself, 'Goshh!!!! Seriously???'
Because whatever you said, It fucking exist in my country too and is still followed by almost 70% of people in my country and I absolutely detest it. That is,
Most of the marriages here are loveless nd arranged - Check
Is the woman good mother and consequently wife material? Is she going to devote her life to taking care of her children, house and husband, the noblest of acts for a female? - Check
People following their expected and strict gender-roles in a nuclear child-centered family - Check Check
What a man should want in a woman is for her to be a dedicated housewife and mother, since having children outside of marriage is not only frowned upon, it is not acceptable at all, and not being married with children is not respectable enough (same with being divorced). - Check Check
Marriage is, therefore, NOT a symbol of undying love and a deep and special connection between two people, rather, it’s a partnership established with the goal of having and raising children. - Awww!!! A million Check.
That's why I was envious of Western people in this aspect, because they have a freedom to choose their own partner without any time constraints and when they do, their marriage can be said to be 'The Epitome of Love'.
My parents marriage is also an arranged one. And whenever they have disagreement and that leads to verbal war, they let out this words, 'I'm here with you because of my 2 daughters otherwise I would've left you long back'. So... Yeah. Here, most of the marriages are child-centered. Again, it's not just my opinion. Majority of the arranged marriage based family revolve around their child.
And I was born, a year after my parents' marriage, and If I hadn't been born, then people will question my parent's fertility factor and start to discriminate them. So, I can boldly claim that, I was not born out of Love or something. I was born because of social obligations.
But it doesn't mean, my parents don't love each other now. How should I say???? It's like a Stockholm Syndrome??!!!! Like when you stay with a person for a long time, you will eventually start to develop some feelings over the course of the time. It took them 15 years to come to a complete understanding of each other. It's the same case with many couples here.
Considering all these, Sasuke never even stayed with Sakura enough to make her understand him, So I wonder what kind of couple are they????? Weird!!!!!
In conclusion: the pairings were, in fact, created for the sole purpose of bringing forth the next generation, and that was made CANONICALLY true.
Awww!!!! Man, Seriously???? I made this claim long back in this post where I said, these women were used as a tool to bring out Next Generation Kids. My claim was based on Analytical Perspective.
And then one of the rabid SS stan reblogged my post and pulled out a hetero card stating, 'They are married and blah blahh...' when in reality, I never discussed about their sexuality in that post. That post was purely based on the number of pages each hetero couples shared with each other against the number of pages Sasuke & Naruto shared together.
Now, you have provided a cultural perspective for those shitty canon pairings.
On one side, I feel the need to smirk, because I am right.
But on the other side, I feel bad like, 'Is this how, this show must go on?? What are you trying to convey from this?'.
You know what IS a symbol of romantic love in Japan? Being willing to die together when the love you feel goes against your moral obligations, holding on to the belief that you will be reunited in the afterlife, where you will be free of any burden and able to love freely.
Hmmm.... It's interesting to know this. Anon.
This is where it differs slightly in my country.
Romantic love here is,
No matter what happens, I'll stand with you, You are just not alone. I will leave my fucking clan, parents, relatives if they don't approve you and we will start a new life somewhere.
[[Here, marriages happen mostly between their clan members. If you love a person from another clan, you will be ostracized or tortured or honour killed by your very parents. It just differs from clan to clan. I was subjected to this same problem and that's why I hate my Clan and left my parents. And this is also one of the reason why I love Itachi. Because we share similar Ideals. That is, Not to be obsessed over your clan and think beyond this restriction.
Also, here in Asian Culture if someone is willing to leave their family (when they don’t approve you) and prefer you over everything.... It means.... that's some Love beyond Comprehension. Just like how Naruto was willing to leave his Family (like Sakura and Kakashi) and like to stand with Sasuke... Just like how Naruto was willing to leave his own family and go on a long mission with Sasuke]]
So does it remind you of anything?????
It's the whole SNS dynamics starting from their childhood to VoTE2. That's why I started to ship SNS, because it represents the true love we always wish for.
Would it have been better if they hadn’t gone down that "safe" route? Hell, yeah! It would have been fucking amazing and could even have been groundbraking, for several reasons. BUT as unsatisfying as it may be, the fact is they chose a very TRADITIONAL depiction of marriage that has little to do with feelings, and that in itself shouldn’t be taken lightly, since it leaves the strongest bond, which is grounded on genuine love, untouched. In this scenario, justifying romantic love through marriage alone won’t cut it
This is very true, Anon.
I mean, they don’t even have to take a groundbreaking route. 
They should have given everyone an open ending, just like Kishi left at chapter 699. What is the need of a marriage, if Naruto is going to adopt Kawaki??? If Orochimaru was going to create a Baby Artificially?? If Rock Lee is going to have a child out of nowhere???
But I am happy that SNS bond is the only one that wasn’t diminished in this hot mess called Burrito. So, atleast we should be happy about that.
When someone pulls the marriage card, I just block them immediately because they are not even worth having a good conversation. NH will pull out the Last movie and SS will pull out, ‘Sasuke called Sakura ‘My Wife’.... So, it’s just pointless.
So, to conclude
Considering my Analytical perspective, I already made earlier in other post and your ask which provides some insight about Japanese culture which eerily resembles the culture I belong to, It all makes sense that this whole pairings and trash is just for the sake of bringing out Next Generation series and those boys never loved those girls whole heartedly. And I agree with you on this.
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Text
how sweet it is (to be loved by you) - todoroki x reader
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Summary:
You are the head baker and owner of a struggling bakery. When pro hero Creati comes in for a wedding cake, of course you accept.
As a business owner, you are excited about the boom in profits resulting from the publicity of working a hero wedding.
As a baker, you are ecstatic to work on an extravagant cake - your most ambitious one to date.
As a woman, you are terrified as you begin to grow feelings for the one person you REALLY cant: the groom.
NOTES: NO infidelity, NO cheating, NO divorce! 
Chapter One (Ao3)
MATURE : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+
6 Months
“Have a nice day! Come again!”
Go stub your toe, you ass.
You call out to the customer as she leaves, waiting until the door closes behind them to slump over. It takes a few deep, meaningful breaths before you are calm enough to unfurl your fists. Even that action hurts, your nails have dug small crescent-moon indents in your palms.
You turn to face the doorway leading to the back area. “You can come out now.”
She peeks her head out from behind the door, eyes searching the shop before determining it is safe enough to walk out. You take her in as she becomes more visible. The poor girl is still a bit shaky, eyes tinted red. Your heart hurts for her. “I’m sorry Kana.”
You had been this close to giving the customer a piece of your mind. In most situations, you would have simply thrown her out of the bakery. But...ever since that popular chain bakery had opened up just a block away, your profits had completely plummeted. People don't care enough to buy local when the chain store had ‘rainbow cotton candy tacos’ that they could post on social media. Who cared that they tasted horrible when you could get those likes and follows?
Unfortunately, your small bakery took a large hit. Your savings were quickly dwindling and you were struggling to stay afloat. So when a horrible customer comes in with a big order, you have to suck it up and make them happy. You literally cannot afford to refuse them.
“No, I’m sorry,” Kana mumbles, wiping at her eyes. “I’m such a cry-baby. It wasn’t even that bad.” You shake your head and walk up to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. It’s a bit awkward, as you’re quite shorter than her.
“It’s not you. People can be assholes -pardon my language. I wish I could do more about it.” You pause. “Please call me out anytime. I’ll deal with all of them for you. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.” She smiles, a bit shakily. “I can-I can work now.”
“Take an extra ten in the back to get yourself back together.” You insist, pushing lightly on her shoulder to turn her around. “I can manage for a bit.”
“Don’t you have more...baking to do?” She asks, letting herself be pushed into the back room.
Yea. You do. You’re already a bit behind. “No, I’m mostly done. It’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” One last light push and she disappears into the back room. You turn and walk back to the counter, grabbing a cloth to aimlessly wipe it down.
It’s a slow day, made slower by the weather outside. While not a full blizzard, the snow is coming down heavy and thick. It makes you glad that you live upstairs, the commute must be terrible today. Hm.
The bell above the door rings. You straighten up, looking over.  “Good morning!”
The woman that walks in is...fancy, wow. Just that coat looked like it would cost more than your month’s rent. Way more. Damn. What is she doing on this side of town? Not that it was a bad area, just not the place you’d typically see a woman like her.
She was wearing a hat and a mask, covering most of her features, but you’d wager a guess that she was gorgeous. Even from afar, you could tell that the long black hair cascading down her back was smooth, shiny, and well taken care of. As she walked closer to the counter, you noticed her kind-looking dark eyes and somehow perfect eyebrows.
Damn. You feel like an ogre just standing across the counter from her.
“Good morning.” And her voice was beautiful too. Wow. “I’m looking for the owner of this establishment.”
Oh, that would be me!” You reply cheerfully, although a small part of your stomach curled up in dread. There was rarely a good reason for a customer to be asking for the owner.
She seems surprised if the widening of her eyes is any indication. “Oh. No offense, but you look much younger than I was expecting.”
“Maybe you’re looking for my grandfather?” You smile. “Unfortunately, he had a pretty bad fall last year and had to retire from the business. I took over.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I wish for his health.” She replies, before taking a look around the bakery. Her eyes zero in on some of the display cakes you have sitting further down the counter. “Well, it all still looks lovely.”
“Thank you! I learned almost everything I know about baking and decorating from him. I like to think that I’m able to keep true to his recipes while also creating some great ones of my own.” You pause. “Did you have any business with him? I can definitely pass along a message or your contact information.”
“No, no.” She says, looking back at you. “I’m actually here to order a cake.”
You perk up. Cakes are some of your favourite things to bake, due to their originality. Also...they tend to be the most pricey. “Oh?”
“Yes. I’m looking to order a wedding cake. It must be pretty big, I’m afraid. There will be a large number of people in attendance.”
A wedding cake. Even better. You look down at her hand, noticing the glimmer of a gold band around her ring finger.
“Ah, of course.” You respond, glancing up at the clock in the corner. Kana isn’t supposed to be back for a few more minutes, but you think it’ll be fine. It’s been a slow day anyways. “Do you want to take a seat and discuss the order a bit more?”
“Yes, that would be perfect.”
You lead her over to one of the seats in the corner, leaving for a moment to grab your wedding cake binder and your notebook before returning.
“So, what are we thinking miss...?” You begin, grabbing your pen to write down notes.  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I never got your name.”
She doesn’t answer, instead reaching over to her purse and opening it. The woman pulls out a small folder and hands it over. You open it to see what is on the inside.
The hell?
It’s...an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement. What.
After a moment of staring, you look up. “Is this...for your name?” You ask. “I can call you whatever you want. That doesn’t bother me.” As long as you get paid, you don’t really care.
She shakes her head. “No, sorry, this is for the wedding. You are free to have a lawyer look over it if you want. I understand.”
“The wedding needs an NDA?” What kind of wedding is this? You really hope this isn’t some sort of yakuza wedding.
“Some…” She pauses, seemingly picking out her words carefully. “Discretion is necessary at this point.”
Oh? You tilt your head in confusion.
Those kind eyes look at you for a moment, before she reaches up to tug down her mask.
Oh.
Oh.  
Creati, the number eight pro hero, is in your bakery. What. For a moment your mind blanks.
You’ve been a fan of Creati for years now. Her powerful quirk and personable attitude has risen her quickly through the ranks, breaking into the top ten only a year later than Deku, the ‘new symbol of peace’. While you wouldn’t call yourself a ‘hero fan’ in the general sense, you always looked up to Creati as a strong female role model.
And here she is. Wow.
You wonder why she came to your shop in particular. She asked for your grandfather, which indicated that she knew of him (a weird thought in itself) but she didn’t seem to know that he had the fall. Hm.
“I see.” You say after a frankly too-long pause. “I get it.”  And you do. A hero wedding always became the spectacle of the year. If it hasn’t been announced yet, you sure were not going to be the one to do it. They have to be announced to the public in a very careful manner, for fear of both crazy fans and villains.
You look down at the NDA in front of you. It’s thorough and probably filled with a bunch of jargon that you don’t understand. A lawyer could probably help, but it’s not like you could afford one. With a small breath, you reach for your pen. She jolts a bit in surprise, probably not expecting you to just blindly sign it. But well...you’re not wasting this opportunity. She is here now, you’re going to get that contract.
“It’s okay Ms. Yaoyorozu.” You smile, holding up a placating hand. “I mean, you’re a hero. I don’t think you’d screw me over for a cake.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” She chuckles lightly.  “Still, I’d like to go over the main points with you before you sign.”
The next ten or so minutes are spent going over the NDA. A minute or so into the conversation, Kana comes out from the back. She looks a bit surprised that you are not at the counter but calms down when you give her a thumbs up. Yaoyorozu has her mask back in place, and the girl doesn’t seem to notice the hero.
Despite its length, the NDA is actually not that complicated. It essentially boils down to the basics, that you cannot tell anybody about the wedding or any wedding details (date, time, location, etc).
There are small exceptions, in that your team is allowed to know that there is a wedding and the time and date, for obvious reasons. However, they are not to know who the wedding is for and are not able to assist in the transportation of the cake to the venue. When you mention that you cannot possibly transport a large cake on your own without risks, Yaoyorozu assures you that some ‘people from the estate’ will come by to assist you on the day.
If she wasn’t a hero, you would be very creeped out at how suspicious that sounds. You sign the NDA and pass it back over to her. She signs her part in it and places the folder back in her purse.
“There are a few steps that might need some input later on down the line.” You mention. “How will I get this information? If you are intending on keeping this very quiet, how can we do things such as taste testing and finalization on different aspects?”
Yaoyorozu reaches into her purse and slides you over a card. “Here’s the number for my manager. Please reach out whenever you have a question and I’ll get the answer for you.” She pauses, finger to her lip in thought. “When it comes time for those important questions and events, just let me know and I’ll set things up.”
“Alright.” You nod. “So, what can you tell me for today?”
“Not much, I’m afraid.” She replies. “The wedding will take place in the spring, on April 5th.” Oh, that’s about six months away. You write the date down on your notebook, circling the date and labeling it with ‘Y Wedding’. “It’ll probably be pretty large, maybe 300 to 400 people?”
“Hm.” You tap the notebook. “Honestly, for that many people, I’d recommend a four or five-tier cake. Unfortunately, they tend to be the most expensive.”
“Budget isn’t an issue.” She responds. God, how you wish you could say that to someone, just once in your life. “We just want it to be the best.”
“Of course.” You nod. “I’ll make sure it’s the best cake I’ve ever made.” The two of you spend the next hour or so discussing other important details and creating a contract. It is a pretty simple contract stating the date and time the cake needed to be delivered by, the size, and the price. It is mostly in place just as a formality for you to save the date.
Yaoyorozu surprises you by offering double the normal amount for the cake. You try to refuse it (because as much as you need the money, you really feel like you are taking advantage here), but she just repeats that she wants the best and that money isn’t an issue. Eventually, you drop it. The two of you agree that another -more fleshed out- contract will have to be signed when the details of the cake are fully available, just to provide a baseline to protect both parties.
And, just like that, the meeting is complete. Yaoyorozu starts to pack up. You would be too, but the question that has been at the front of your mind since the beginning of the meeting is now begging to come out. “Um, I hate to ask, because I’m really happy for your business, honestly, but...what made you choose my bakery?”
“Oh, you were actually recommended to us.” She says. “The Uraraka’s spoke wonders of your grandfather's work. “
“The Urarakas?!” You sit up straighter, smile ticking up a notch. While they haven’t been around in a few years, the Urarakas used to be a staple in your bakery. You have fond memories of talking to the family whenever you visited your grandfather. It seemed like they were always around. Sometimes you got to play with their kid, Ochako, when your grandfather would babysit for them. They were a sweet family.
Now that you’re older, you realize that it wasn’t just the good food that brought the Uraraka’s to the bakery so often. The family (like many others in the area) were not well-off, so your grandfather would give the family a large discount on bread and treats. It’s a wonder the place stayed in business with the amount of free and discounted food he was giving out. Not that you ever stopped the tradition.
“I see you know them too.” Yaoyorozu smiles.
“Awe, I miss them.” You say. “They were always the kindest people. I can’t believe they recommended us.” How did they even know Creati anyways?
“They are.” She nods, about to continue on when her phone rings. She brings her phone -oh, wow that’s definitely the newest version- to her ear and talks quietly into it. As she speaks, you look down at your notes and scribble some more to not seem like you are eavesdropping.
“I have to go.” You look in surprise as she stands up. “Thank you for all of this. I will be in contact.”
And she’s gone. Huh.
You stare at the door after she leaves for a few moments, only shaking yourself out of it when Kana starts calling your name. Gathering your supplies, you make your way behind the counter.
“Will you be okay for a bit?” You ask as you pass her. “I need to go sit down.”
“Yea! Of course.” She smiles brightly.
Instead of heading to the breakroom, or even the kitchen (where you usually go to relax), you go straight to the staircase leading to your apartment. You walk upstairs in a bit of a daze, plopping down on your couch and staring at the ceiling.
Holy shit. Creati was just in your bakery. You are baking a cake for Creati, for a pro-hero. A TOP pro-hero.
This is so cool.
Four Months Before the Wedding
Two months later, you are a bit less excited and a bit more stressed about the situation.
You have been in somewhat contact with Creati’s manager, mostly just to trade contact information, but no further information has been sent your way. At this point, you’ve completely blocked off the day (and the day before it) to ensure the cake is perfect, but that’s all you’ve been able to do. You have no idea what the cake is supposed to look like or even the desired flavours!
Okay, there is still enough time, you know that, but this cake has to be perfect and you want as much time as possible to plan and execute it. Not only is it extremely cool that you get to make a cake for a pro-hero wedding, but it also will be great publicity. While you are sworn to secrecy now, Yaoyorozu assured you that after the wedding you can post all you’d like. Of course, if any photos included guests of the wedding or other important information, they had to go through their managers and PR team first.
You could work with that.
The publicity will definitely bring new people to the bakery. Screw the chain bakery down the block and their ‘rainbow unicorn dragon desert bagels’, you would have the approval of pro-heroes!
Everything needed to be absolutely perfect , and the relative lack of time stressed you out beyond belief. For the first month, you were checking your phone consistently, hoping for any news or information. It got to the point that your employees actually called you on it, wondering why you were suddenly so obsessed with your phone. Put on the spot, the only thing your brain could come up with as a feasible excuse was that you got a new guy in your life. After that -frankly super embarrassing- conversation, you deliberately made sure to leave your phone on silent, and ignored any vibrations until you had an actual free moment to look.
That’s why you didn’t see the message from Creati’s manager until two hours later. The bakery had yet to open, you had been in the middle of a batch of croissants when your phone buzzed. Ignoring it, you continued until you were able to check.
[Contact: C Manager ]
C Manager: The groom should be coming by today to talk about details.
Your eyes go wide. Excitement and nerves curl in your stomach. Finally, something is happening. You wish that the manager would give more details about who to expect, but you understand the need for secrecy. That’s why you have the manager as simply ‘C Manager’ in your phone after all.
You: Sounds good! I’ll be around all day.
There is no response after that, although you were not really expecting much. You spend the day peeking out into the front as often as possible. If the groom is also a hero, you assume he will be in some sort of disguise and you don’t want to miss him.
But nobody shows up.
An hour before closing your phone lets out a loud tone. You recognize the sound, it’s the villain attack alarm. It warns residents of a nearby attack, similar to tsunami or earthquake warnings. You jolt a bit in surprise and quickly check your phone.
As expected, it’s a villain attack. Luckily it’s far enough away -practically on the other side of town- for you to not be too concerned. You check the news quickly to ensure there shouldn’t be any other side effects. It looks like the heroes are already on it: Deku and Dynamight are shown in a picture together fighting a mutant-type villain.
You check in on Kana, who assures you that this attack shouldn’t affect her either. Still, you decide to send her home earlier than normal. It’s not like you expect many more customers, and most of the cleaning tasks have already been completed. Also, it’s close to Christmas now and you know the kid wants to spend as much time as possible with her family and friends.
Kana takes the opportunity as expected, and is out the door quickly. You start to clean around the bakery, doing the limited amount of tasks left to do. After half an hour you check the news again, happy to see that Deku and Dynamight have successfully apprehended the villain.
With about twenty minutes left till closing and all the front tasks complete, you stand behind the counter and start to count the till. Maybe you can leave earlier tonight too, for once.
Of course, that’s when the bell rings.
You look up with your best customer service smile. “Good evening!”
The man that walks in takes your breath away. He is tall and broad, with obvious muscles underneath his outfit. He looks very put-together, with an expensive-looking navy jacket and a fluffy red scarf around his neck.  
But, really, none of that matters. Your eyes skip over everything to his head. To that distinctive red and white hair.
Is that…??
“Hello.” Heterochromatic eyes look at you from the doorway.
Oh. It is.
Pro hero Shouto is standing in your bakery.
NOTE: I will be posting these on tumblr approximately a week after the chapters are posted on Ao3 (we are currently at chapter 2 on Ao3). 
Chapter One (Ao3)
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keorami · 3 years
Text
So you know when you wanna write a funny situation but you realise that you have to come up with said funny situation? Yeah... I forgot that my sense of humor is atrocious, but at least I tried...? I couldn't focus on one long story so I decided to write several short ones instead! Hope you enjoy!
"I have the feeling you're not enjoying this sleepover very much."
Dream did not, in fact, enjoy this 'sleepover', because not only did it remind him that his only way out of this hell was stuck in here with him, but said way out had been nothing but insufferable since he got here.
"Is this about the bell-"
"You could have gotten us out of here."
Oh yeah, said way out also wasted their one chance at escaping on a fucking bell. Dream hadn't felt such anger in... he doesn't remember actually. He didn't get to feel angry often in here.
"Listen, it was a very important matter-"
He stopped listening at that point. It was the same tirade every time about clout and viewership and whatever that he honestly could care less about. Staring at and counting the cracks in the obsidian seems like a very interesting activity.
"Hey, are you listening?"
1... 2... 3...
"Dude."
4... 5... 6...
"How long are you gonna ignore me?"
7... 8- wait, didn't he count that one already?
"Look at me at least."
No, he doesn't think he will. Because then the bell will be within view, and Dream knows that if he wasn't so pathetically weak, either the bell or Techno would have been thrown into the lava by now. But he is, so he'll throw the next best thing: his body. And fuck whatever the pig might have to say about it.
"Dreeeeeam-"
"WHAT."
He whipped his head so fast his neck hurt a little. He was fully prepared to... well now he doesn't remember, because of all faces he expected Techno to make...
The fuckboy face wasn't one of them.
"Nooo don't be angry, you're so sexy haha."
Oh God, he just died and went to limbo didn't he?
He wasn't sure when exactly he collapsed on the floor, gasping for air in a mix of wheezes and coughing, but Techno was now hovering over him in panic.
"Dream please don't die, I don't want the last thing you ever saw to have been that face-"
Oh, if there was one thing he would make sure not to forget, it would have been that face.
~~~~~
"Man, I'm starving. When do we get food in here again?"
"Um, I don't know really. I guess whenever Sam is in the mood?"
"What."
"Yeah."
Sam hasn't dropped food a single time since he was locked in here. Well, add 'food' to the basic human rights Dream isn't getting. They're really treating this like a bucket list aren't they?
"It's... You'll get used to it."
Dream gives him some potatoes from his inventory, to Techno's absolute delight. At least Sam has great taste, he'll give him that. But...
"...They're raw."
"Well, obviously."
Listen. He loves potatoes. He'd say he loves them to death, if he could die. No matter how you cook them, they turn out delicious. But raw? He'd only eat them raw if it was a life-or-death situation AND he somehow had no source of heat at his disposal, and the likelihood of that situation happening is practically zero. So yeah, he doesn't like to eat them raw.
"And that's all you get?"
"If you can't eat it-"
Ah, those famous words. Now, he's fairly certain that Dream didn't mean it as a challenge, but at this point Techno is just too competitive to see it any other way. Look, you don't get to his level by being passive, okay? So it's perfectly reasonable.
What wasn't reasonable was the taste of this potato because what in the Blood God's name is this.
"What the hell is this."
"...A potato?"
"No, this is a fucking travesty."
And what a sight it was, the Technoblade swearing and ranting about potatoes, of all things. Dream could only last until "mossy cobblestone tastes better than this dry ass, stinky ass garbage" before he lost it. You gotta give him credit for lasting this long at least. Technoblade was too busy ranting to care either way.
~~~~~
This can't be happening.
"Dream."
"What."
He tries to sound neutral, but Techno can hear the snicker in his voice.
"You don't have to do this."
Surely he can reconsider-
"On the contrary, it has to be done."
Dream places a single card on the pile, which happens to be his last one. A Wild Draw 4, to rub salt into the wound. Techno decides that ending on that card should be illegal.
"Remember the deal. No bell for the rest of the day."
"NOOOOOOO!"
Unfortunately, that had been the condition he had to agree to in order to get Dream to play. Because apparently he was "ringing it all the fucking time and it was driving me crazy". There's that, and the threat that Dream would jump in the lava again if he refused. So clearly he had a choice in the matter.
He knew that there was a chance he could lose... but he had deemed it low enough to ignore it. How could he not expect the resident chessmaster of the SMP to utterly trounce him in UNO? He was a fool, and now he has to think about how to make up for the lost clout and money.
At least, judging from the quiet snickers, someone finds his misery funny. He finds consolation in knowing that he may have lost the battle but he won the war. In a way.
~~~~~
"So I almost got mauled to death but that was how I met Steve."
Dream stares at him the way Phil does when he does something particularly outlandish and he fails to see why.
"Can I ask a question."
"Sure."
"Why would the first thing you do upon running into a starving polar bear be hugging it?"
Of course he would question it, because obviously Techno's superior intellect is confusing to the common mind. He just really likes animals, okay? Steve's fur looked so soft and fluffy he just had to touch it, he almost got his face torn off and Phil never let him live that down. But he'll sooner accept governments than let Dream know that. He doesn't want to embarrass himself too much.
"See Dream, I live by a simple philosophy."
"Long live anarchy?"
"No. Well yes, but not just that."
Dramatic silence.
"Any animal is huggable if you aren't a coward."
Dream chokes on his potato, the only one he had eaten today, and Techno worries for a second before he realises that Dream is actually laughing.
"Tech- what-" His body is shaking. "-what is wrong with you??"
"It all started when I was born-"
~~~~~
And it's enough to send Dream rolling on the ground. It wasn't even that funny, but he supposes that prison does a number on you, and Dream's sense of humor was already terrible to begin with.
...Okay, now he had to make sure that the teletubby didn't laugh himself to death.
At the end of the day- at least Techno assumes it's the end of the day, he doesn't know how trustworthy his internal clock is anymore- the two inmates of Pandora's Vault are about ready to fall asleep, but Techno has one last thing to do before that.
"Dream, come here for a minute."
Said man gives him such a wary look that he almost feels insulted.
"...Why?"
"I won't bite, ya know."
"That's... debatable."
Bruh.
"Just get over here."
And Dream complies without any further complaints. Techno hopes he didn't sound too harsh, but his cellmate wasn't shivering uncontrollably, so he thinks he's in the clear.
"What?"
Techno lays his cape down on the very uncomfortable obsidian floor. Seriously, laying down for an hour is enough to make his joints ache. 0/10 would not recommend. How did Dream- right, he doesn't have a choice.
"What are you doing?"
"Making this prison less of a living hell. Come lay down."
"...I'm fine."
Why are you being so difficult, Techno wants to ask, even though he can guess the answer. When was the last time anyone did something remotely nice for him without any catch? Especially in here?
"Stop being difficult and sleep with me already."
Silence.
"...Pft."
"You know what I meant."
In his defense, everyone has their moments, and his usually don't happen that often.
"Stop being so difficult and-"
"Just... get over here. My cape is really soft."
"Is that why you wear it all the time?"
"...Among other things."
But mostly because it was really soft.
Dream still seemed apprehensive about the whole thing, and while usually Techno would have respected his wishes and left him be... the sight of his rival curling up in a corner of the cell, obviously trying to not aggravate his injuries as he did, was saddening even to him. Prime, he's really not good at this... but Dream probably definitely needs it.
So he pulls his roommate into a side hug, which is honestly the best he can manage without ruining his image. It's awkward, Dream is way too stiff, and maybe now would be the time to say something before embarrassment kills either or both of them. Something reassuring, comforting to help Dream relax in his presence for example.
"This is gonna be the best sleepover you've ever had."
...But the day he stops relying on humor for any kind of social interaction is the day it'll either stop working or get him killed.
"...This is so stupid."
And today was not that day.
Dream lets out a laugh, shaky but genuine, and relaxes. Techno sees that as a win. Since he's stuck here for a while, might as well make his favorite teletubby's life in here more bearable.
And it's finally over! It only took me... *looks at calendar* ...time is an illusion. Idk if I'm really happy with this, but on the bright side, it's... done? Now I really wanna continue that endersmile fanfic as I got some ideas, hopefully it won't take as long? God I am a writing disaster
Also if you saw any mistakes... no you didn't :)
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bokutosworld · 3 years
Text
the ending scene | kuroo t.
pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader word count, genre: 2.3k words, angst. kenma makes a cameo and offers support as the good friend that he is.  summary: in which kuroo realizes that his relationship is edging closer to its end, and it’s up to him to cut the ties. 
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“Did you really love me?” His question takes you by surprise, your words getting stuck in your throat. “I want to know,” his voice breaks. “In the years that we were together, did you ever truly love me?” 
How do you look at the person you love and tell yourself that it is time to walk away? 
It’s a thought that has been sitting in Kuroo’s mind for a while now. And as he’s standing outside the library, the glass windows giving him unobstructed view of you, it seems to him that he’s much closer to the answer more than he thought. 
You weren’t alone. He recognizes the person you were with and his heart clenches at the sight. 
Yanagi was their name, and he remembers meeting him during a college party. His mind plays back that moment when you happily introduced them to each other. They were the two most important men in your life as you declared. It had only been a few weeks since you two started dating, but he was genuinely touched that you’d already considered him a special person in your life. 
But looking at the two of you from his current spot, he wonders if he still holds that position. Right now, anyone could easily mistake you and Yanagi for a couple. For a study session, the two of you seemed too close for comfort, and any other day, he wouldn’t think anything of it. He knows that Yanagi has been your best friend for years. The pair of you go way back, even before Kuroo had entered your lives. 
And he respects that. It wasn’t in Kuroo’s personality to ever be possessive to the point that he’d stop you from being friends with others. In fact, he’s the one who’s always pushing you to be more social and hang out with your friends. Just because he was dating you doesn’t mean he wants to monopolize you. 
But he has his moments when he wonders if he has ever made you smile the way you were smiling in Yanagi’s presence right now. He ponders if you’d ever laughed so hard with him, tears of joy spilling from the corners of your eyes, the way Yanagi was making you right now. You seem so free, so comfortable with Yanagi, and he couldn’t help but wish that it was him instead who was by your side. 
Kuroo has half a mind to turn around and leave you be, knowing that Yanagi would bring you home safely anyway. But your eyes catch his, and suddenly he feels frozen in his spot. 
You wave, the smile that he’s fallen in love with paints your face as you call him over. His resolve to go home and talk to Kenma about his worries dissipates the instant you beckon for him. 
“I was wondering when you’d arrive,” you stand and kiss him on the cheek the moment he reaches your table. “I’m getting hungry. It’s about time we go for dinner, don’t you think?” 
He reaches to carry your laptop, helping you fix your things. “Is Yanagi joining us?” He watches you, anxious as he waits for your answer. You take a second to think it over, but he doesn’t miss how your face lightens up at his suggestion. He watches you excitedly turn to your friend, inviting him to go. And it was when Yanagi agrees that Kuroo realizes his mistake. 
“Why are you here, Kuroo?” Kenma drops his bag at the side of his bed where the boy currently in question was lounging. “I know I gave you access to my flat, but that doesn’t mean you can just barge in here without a warning.” 
Kuroo grumbles, tossing and turning in his friend’s bed before he sits up with a scowl on his face. He exhales loudly, his hands flying to his hair to ruffle them in his confusion. “I don’t know what to do.” 
“What do you mean?” Kenma drags his gaming chair and takes a seat across Kuroo. He already has a hunch about his friend’s problem, but he didn’t want to assume and get ahead of himself. In times like these, he’d known that it was better for Kuroo to open up and talk about it by himself.
Kuroo opens his mouth and closes them again. He hesitates. As if the moment he starts talking about it would mean that he’s already admitted his defeat, already accepted the dreadful fate that awaits his relationship. 
“Is it her?” 
“Yeah.” 
“What is it this time?” Kenma wasn’t a stranger to his friend’s overthinking, the way he would come up with a hundred different scenarios that was not helping with the waging war in his mind. 
“I’m not sure if I’m still the right person for her,” he confesses. “Yesterday, I went to pick her up at the library and I wasn’t expecting anything, but it still didn’t feel right to see her with him. You know Yanagi.” 
Kenma nods, the name ringing a bell in his mind as it had already come up in previous conversations with him. His friend continues, “I know that she’s been nothing but good to me. She’s the best partner that I could ever ask for. I’m happy. We are happy, but yesterday, I saw it in her eyes. 
The way she looked at him. I don’t think she’s ever looked at me like that. Not a moment when she smiled or laughed with me the way she did with him.”  
He’s never seen Kuroo conflicted like this. Sure, this wasn’t the first time that his former captain came to him for relationship advice. But this was the first that Kuroo’s seemed so desperate, so dejected that the only thing that he was considering was letting go. 
“They… have a lot of history together, huh?” 
Kuroo chuckles dryly at the remark. “Yeah, and I don’t think I can ever compete with that.”
“But you were together for three years. Wouldn’t it be a complete waste just to give up and throw it all away because, I’m sorry for the word, you were insecure?” 
Kenma was right. It’s not that he didn’t trust you; he was insecure, and his doubts were eating him up from the inside. It doesn’t help that there were people around you and him that kept talking about Yanagi, complimenting their easy and comfortable friendship – how they seem like the bestest of friends, like they were soulmates.  
“I don’t think I can ever compete with what they have.” Kuroo plops back down on the bed, his voice muffled when he says, “Our three years seem nothing compared to the decades that they have spent together.” 
“So,” Kenma sits up and grabs a bottle of beer, one for him and one for Kuroo. “What are you going to do?”   
He sees the drink in Kenma’s hand and grabs it. Sitting up, he pops open the cold beverage and takes a sip before asking, “How do you look at the one you love and tell yourself that it is time to walk away? 
Sympathizing with his friend, Kenma thinks over his reply, “You don’t want to carry this burden forever. You should already know what to do before it all becomes too much, and you can’t recover.” 
After meeting with Kenma, Kuroo spent the rest of his evening productive, doing his homework and writing papers to keep his mind from steering to thoughts of you.   
The answer was already staring him in the face. But it was still so hard for him to come to terms with it. You were the best thing to happen to him, and he vividly remembers the time when he was so mesmerized when he saw you. People say it doesn’t happen in real life, but Kuroo swears he fell in love at first sight. 
He reminisces on your many firsts together. The second-hand embarrassment lingering when he remembers the sleepless nights he spent practicing how he would say those three words to you. But you were a force to be reckoned with. 
The words I love you catching him by surprise when they slip out of your mouth one afternoon while you were cuddling in his apartment. He wishes he could turn back time, prays that he could experience it all over again so he could press capture and keep it in his memory.  
But he couldn’t, and the reality pains him more than he ever thought it could. 
Kuroo spent the whole weekend holed up in his room. Not bothering to check his phone for messages and calls, missing how you left so many texts and voicemails on the device. The sudden silent treatment was worrying you, but you gave up, deciding that you’d talk to him at campus.   
However, once the new school week started, Kuroo was nowhere to be seen. He was still not answering any messages, and the rare times that you’d catch him, he’d have an excuse that he had somewhere urgent to go to. But a person could only be busy for so many times. 
Besides, you knew his schedule like the back of your hand. And it was becoming clear to you that he was ignoring you. But for why? You sadly didn’t know. 
Kuroo felt bad. He was already experiencing the effects of withdrawal from distancing himself from you. He’s been so used to you being part of his every day that it was making him feel empty without you.
But this was what he had to do, and ignoring you was his way of slowly preparing himself, and you, for the inevitable. 
And the inevitable happens right after your last class on a Friday. A whole week passed by in a blink of an eye, and you were getting hopeless over no interaction with Kuroo. Yanagi had suggested for you to check up on him at his apartment, but you knew that maybe Kuroo needed the time alone. 
So when you found him waiting for you outside the classroom, you ran and tackled him with a hug. “You dummy, I missed you. How could you be so cold to me this past week?” 
He laughs, but it didn’t sound like him. “I’m sorry, I got busy with my majors.” He takes your pile of folders and carries it. “Shall we head to our usual place for some snacks?” 
You agree, but there was a nagging voice in your head telling you to prepare for things to be never be the same again.  
The after-school date was decent. You and Kuroo caught up with your activities, exchanging stories that you’d been wanting to tell him for the past week. You notice him nodding to your words, but you avoid commenting on his disinterest and the way he seemed so occupied. 
It was when the pair of you were walking home that you finally brought it up. “Okay, something is clearly bothering you. What’s wrong?” 
His head remains downcast, the hold on your hand tightening, “We need to talk.”
He makes a stop to the playground near your home. He lets go of your hand, walking to the bench and takes a seat. You reluctantly follow suit. Without any minute to spare, Kuroo takes a deep breath and lays it down. “We should break up.” 
You wondered if you heard him right, frantically searching his face for any indication that he was joking. That he was pulling a prank despite April Fool’s Day being months away from now. “What did you just say?” 
He’s avoiding your look, “We should end this.” 
“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” You lash out, getting to your feet and standing in front of him. “Don’t think that I haven’t noticed. You’ve been so indifferent, so absent, and even today, you weren’t the Kuroo that I am in love with.”
He snaps, finally looking at you. “Did you really love me?” His question takes you by surprise, your words getting stuck in your throat. “I want to know,” his voice breaks. “In the years that we were together, did you ever truly love me?” 
“Where is this coming from?” You were shaking. “What ar-”
But he was relentless, “What do you think of Yanagi?” That question seemed to hit the nail on the head as you stood still, dumbfounded, shoulders sagging because for once, you didn’t know how to answer. 
“You love them, don’t you?” He smiles sadly. “And not just as a friend.” 
It’s like a cold wave washes over you, and the tension was getting too much. You take a seat beside him and Kuroo pats your head in understanding. “I see it. How you’re falling in love with him right in front of my eyes, and how he is being the same.” He drops his hand. “But I can’t blame you. I know he’s been there for you longer than I have, and there’s clearly chemistry between you two.”
You didn’t know when you started crying, but your face was becoming wet with tears every second that passes by. “I didn’t… I wasn’t lying all those times that I told you I loved you.” 
“I know.” You just love him more, he figures. 
“I’m sorry.” The instant you said those words, Kuroo feels his heart split in two. He never wanted to make you cry like this, let alone make you say those words. But this was it, the ending of his love.  
“I should be saying that.” He knows you were hurting too, but he also knows that by doing this, you could finally have the chance to be truly happy even if it weren’t by his side anymore. 
“I’m sorry for taking you from them. For robbing you of precious time you could’ve spent with them.” He kneels down, taking your face in his hands and wiping the tears. “But thank you for letting me experience what it’s like to be loved by you for the past three years.” 
One last kiss on your forehead. 
“I’ll always be rooting for your happiness.”
And with one last searing kiss on the lips as goodbye, Kuroo makes his exit from your life and draws the curtain down on his chapter with you.    
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justcourttee · 4 years
Text
Call It What You Want-One Shot Song Prompt
So, I recently saw @marimacaron​ post this song prompt fic for daminette and I absolutely loved it and knew I had to try and write it! I hope it’s close to what you imagined :)
Marinette’s eyes fell to the glittering rock on her left hand, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she hit post on her computer. Within seconds, hundreds of comments and likes flooded her Instagram from fans and friends alike, most wishing her well for her engagement, a few earning a chuckle at their distress that she was now ‘off the market’.
She reached forward to shut her laptop when one comment in particular caught her eye.
@alyabloglyfe: Why are you still vying for attention? We all know @queenlyla is engaged to Damian Wayne, I mean, why would he be interested in a liar and bully like you?
Already, twenty fans were fighting the girl’s comment, dissing Alya and defending Marinette’s honor, but it didn’t seem to help the punch to the gut she was experiencing. Her fingers lingered over the keyboard, the room seeming to blur around her.
All of a sudden, she felt fifteen again, trapped in her bedroom only being able to scroll through the hate mail that flooded her inbox from all of her former friends. She thought that begging her parents to allow her to pull out of school and switch to an online platform would deter them from attacking her so often, but it only made things worse as they became more confident and vile in their bullying as they could hide behind a screen.
Every night, Marinette would cry herself to sleep wondering what she did so wrong to deserve all of this until one day she decided it would be enough. She deleted all of her social media, even taking down her MDC commissions page, asking her clients to meet her in person or via phone call to schedule fittings and commissions. And it worked, at least for a little while, until they started to vandalize her parent’s bakery, breaking windows and spray painting signs, the cops never seeming to catch them.
Her fingers tapped out the first sentence of her response, her eyes absentmindedly glazed over as she wrote a paragraph, then two, all directed to Alya. She was about to hit send when she felt a pair of arms snake around her shoulders, warm breath tickling the back of her ears.
“How’d your fans take the news?” his deep voice felt like a lifeline as she slammed her laptop shut, blinking away the empty feeling Alya had brought.
He let out a low whistle as he unwinded himself, allowing her to stand up from the desk and fall into his outstretched arms.
“That good, huh?”
She forced out a dry laugh as she buried her face into his chest.
“Just a few people upset that I’m officially a taken woman.”
It was his turn to laugh as she pulled back, taking in the sight of his carefree face. It was always so beautiful, so much peace that he held, all reserved for her.
“Do you have any plans tonight? You know Richard will want to host an exaggerant engagement feast.” He rolled his eyes, but his smile gave him away. She knew he secretly loved being the center of attention, especially when it came to his family.
“I’ll make sure to have everything done by 5 today, promise.”
Ducking under his arms, she slung her purse over her head, making a beeline for the door.
“Do you need Alfred to escort you?” he called after her retreating figure but it was too late, she was gone.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Exiting the fabric store, Marinette made her way down Gotham’s winding streets, her head in another place as she tried to recall anything she could’ve missed.
“This is why you should’ve brought your list with you Marinette!” Tikki popped their head out of her purse, their arms crossed in a scolding manner.
“I would have Tikki, but you know how overprotective he is. He would’ve insisted I waited for Alfred to come down to the apartment to drive me and no offense to Alfred, but sometimes a girl just wants to be alone.”
Her pace slowed as a familiar landscape came into her sight.
“Oh wow Tikki, I haven’t been here in almost three years.” her voice trailed off as she scanned over the construction crew working on the new gymnasium.
“Gotham Academy! This is where you transferred to right?”
She didn’t answer the small God as she took a step forward, placing a hand on the elegant banisters leading up the school stairs. The fresh scent of cleaning supplies filled her nostrils as she closed her eyes, her mind falling back to the comment from earlier.
She was only sixteen when her parents allowed her to transfer. It was in both of their best interests as they couldn’t afford to keep repairing the bakery her former friends destroyed. She was a mere shell of a person when she entered those doors for the first time. She had already decided that she wasn’t going to make any friends this time around, after all, no friends meant no one to stab her in the back, as they all do eventually.
But then something strange happened. The student who was assigned to show her around for the first week was just as cold and calculated. His thorns were just as sharp as hers, neither opening up much to the other. She had planned for warm and inviting, the fake friends trying to pry her open, but she hadn’t planned for someone to hold her attention, someone as cold as her.
One week turned into two, and then a month passed and she dared to consider him her friend.
“Marinette? Marinette? Are you still in there?”
She slowly opened her eyes to a concerned kwami, Tikki’s small hands shaking her nose to the best of their ability.
“I’m fine Tikki, just a bit of reminiscing I suppose.”
Continuing again, Marinette soon found herself in front of her studio. The little bell rang through the place as ten heads popped up, all wearing bright smiles. Unique almost tackled her in a hug before the door had even closed.
“Marinette! We were so excited when you posted this morning! It was sooo hard keeping your relationship a secret when customers asked!”
Hannah and Brooke nodded in agreement as the girls all left their work stations to admire her ring.
“Can we help you design your wedding dress?” Hannah clasped her hands together, earning a chorus of please’s throughout the room.
Marinette chuckled as she brought the women into a big group hug.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, enough small talk, let’s get down to business, anything new?”
It was as if someone switched a flip in the room, the girls jumping from excited to serious as they all handed in folders, giving her a brief of each new commission. It was going to be a long day of work, certainly. . . . . .  . . . . . . . . . . . . . Her keys jiggled in the apartment lock as she practically fell in, all of her energy drained.
“Damian? Do we have any coffee?”
She didn’t hear an answer as she reached for the cupboard, bringing down her favorite mug. Damian had given it to her a month into them dating. Her fingers absentmindedly reached to her neck where a small D sat on an elegant gold chain.
“I don’t understand Mari-san. You wearing his initial is a statement that he owns you. How is that romantic?”
She adjusted her phone to give Kagami a better look at the necklace, smiling softly as she held the D between two fingers.
“Because Kagami it’s not like that, I don’t wear it cause he ‘owns me’. I wear it because for the first time in a while, I really feel like someone really knows me, ya feel?”
“I do not ‘feel’ but if you are happy, then it is an acceptable gift, as is the coffee mug with the picture of you two.”
The whistle from the coffee machine drew her attention back to the present as Tikki flashed her a smile from where they sat on the Keurig.
“Thank you Tikki. I’m going to need this,” she held up her steaming mug, a tired smile flashing gratefully at the God.
Downing the cup, she placed it in the sink before pulling out her phone seeing three missed texts from Damian stating he would be home soon.
“Well Tikki, at least I’m not the one running late for once.” The two shared a small laugh before they headed towards her bedroom to get dressed for the night. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Damian squeezed her hand tightly as they made their way through Wayne Manner’s garden.
“There could be a small thousand here tonight, are you ready for that Mrs Wayne?”
His smile was blinding as her heart beat rapidly at the sound of him calling her by his last name.
“I most certainly am Mr. Wayne.”
As they rounded the corner to the back of the gardens, Marinette couldn’t help but laugh at the number of people Dick had invited. Loud cheers erupted from every inch of the yard causing her entire face to flash red.
“I might’ve underestimated, I’d say at least three thousand.”
He squeezed her hand once more before he was pulled off into the crowd. She smiled at the genuine fear crossing his face as people began berating him about children so soon.
“Well, well, well, a beautiful woman in distress. Please allow me to be your stand in to ward off the power hungry tonight.”
Jason slung his arm over her shoulders earning a laugh from the smaller girl.
“I am eternally grateful for your services Monsieur Todd.”
They chatted lightly as he led her back to where her future family all stood, all practically vibrating from excitement, even Bruce.
“Mari! I’m so excited! I really thought he was going to force me to hold this a secret for forever.”
Dick pulled her into a bone crushing hug, only pulling back when Barbara and Stephanie forced him to. They each took their turns expressing their excitement for the wedding, Tim even going as far as to say he never thought it would happen.
“What? We were all thinking it! Demon spawn? Happy and smiling all the time? It’s scary!” he shuddered sending another round of laughter throughout the group.
Marinette brought up her phone, snapping a picture, posting it immediately to her Insta.
@mdcdesigns: So excited to officially be a part of this family. (not that I haven’t considered them family for years now :))
She was about to slide her phone back into her purse when something caught her attention. Almost instantly, a private message from Alya sat in her inbox. She wanted to ignore it, but the curiosity was eating her up.
@alyabloglyfe: Soo what?You don’t post for months and all of a sudden you show up with a double post about a supposed engagement to Damian Wayne?
What is this?
A publicity stunt?
A desperate cry to try and hurt Lyla even after all these years?
I demand an answer ‘bestie’
Her heart beat clenched at the last message as she felt the tears trying to pool in her eyes. So many years had passed and Alya still believed her to be the liar and failure that Lila painted her out to be.
She wanted to respond to the messages, but she wasn’t even sure what to say. Her fingers lingered over her keyboard as she looked up, trying to collect her thoughts. Then she saw him. His calm smile, his shining green eyes, the love radiating from him all directed to her. His eyes met hers as he excused himself from the person he was talking to.
“Are you alright habibti?”
His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into his side. It was as if everything faded away, the only thing she could see was him. Standing on her tiptoes, she gently placed a kiss on his cheek.
“I’m doing better than I ever was.”
He smiled, seemingly satisfied with her answer as she unlocked her phone once more, her fingers moving quickly across the keyboard.
@mdcdesigns: Alya, I don’t need this from you or Lila anymore. I have a world famous business, 1.3 million followers and fans, a loving new family and a fiance who loves me like I’m brand new despite the damage you put me through.
You don’t really want to know what I call this, because you’ll only distort it to fit your fantasy that Lila painted for you so you know what?
Call it what you want :)
She moved to the top of the screen, blocking her old friend without a second thought. After all, she had her new life and it had no room for the past to ruin that. Raising her glass, she leaned forward to clink it with the rest, a new sense of relief flowing through her.
“To Damian, for finally proposing before I had to.”
They all cheered to his mock protests as they brought their flutes to their lips, celebrating the next chapter in their lives, not a single worry filling the space, only love.
Permanent Tag List:
@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07
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meliorist-midoriya · 4 years
Text
doki doki todoroki
synopsis: where todoroki’s first love blindsides him and he feels like the whole class is leaving him out of the loop. 
word count: 1.8k
genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff 
warnings: just todoroki being a clueless baby 
a/n: hello! aaaa this is entirely self-indulgent, but it’s my first post! i saw “doki doki todoroki” float around here somewhere and then this happened hjsdhjdhj. anyway, hope you enjoy!
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He brushes it off the first time it happens, wrote it off as adrenaline from today’s sparring.
He brushes it off the second time. It was just a harmless scare after all, no shame in that.
He brushes it off the third time, the odd timing soon forgotten in favor of resuming his studies.
Todoroki doesn’t see the correlation for a while. How it was after seeing your exhilarated smile in the middle of a hard fight, after hearing you laugh once Mina startled him, after watching the triumphant smile on your face grow once he explained the problem to you.
He notices it the fourth, fifth, sixth time. Understandably, he’s confused. No amount of education or training would’ve prepared him for this. Nothing would’ve, other than hard-earned experience that he never got. Looking it up (as he found himself doing a lot these days the more he socialized) only earned him the definition of tachycardia and a grocery list of possible diagnoses ranging from anxiety to heart disease.
So much for the internet.
The ringing of the lunch bell pulled him out of his “research”, and he filed the thought away for later as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.
Later becomes three weeks.
Todoroki’s lost count at this point of how many times his heart suddenly went haywire, thudding against his ribs and sending blood rushing through his ears. How is world suddenly narrowed to just you whenever you spoke to him, and how he wanted to hear your voice again even though you had just stopped speaking. He finally drew the line once Midoriya pointed out his state of disarray at lunch.
“Todoroki-kun, are you sick? Your face is really red,” Midoriya had his chopsticks halfway to his mouth when he paused at the sight of Todoroki staring listlessly at his soba. Unbeknownst to him, Todoroki was too busy listening to you laugh at whatever Uraraka and Iida were talking about to focus on his soba. Hell, he couldn’t focus on anything lately and he had no idea why.
“Hm? Oh, yes, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” No. He doesn’t voice this, and instead lets his Quirk pull the heat away from his cheeks for him as the air chills around him. Midoriya keeps watching him like he doesn’t believe him, but returns to his own lunch anyway.
“Hey, Todoroki, pfft- you have to listen to this. Iida just-” You don’t wait for his answer. You don’t have to. Todoroki finds himself hanging on to your every word anyway, smiling to himself (oh, the tiniest smile compared to yours. He doesn’t think anything will compare) as you struggle to recount your conversation without dissolving into giggles, Iida admonishing you for your loud laughter with an embarrassed flush.
Whatever this feeling is, he doesn’t mind, but he would like to know. He doesn’t notice Uraraka and Midoriya curiously watching the exchange, food forgotten. Nor does he notice Mina giggling with Hagakure as they nudged each other over the seats, dragging any of the class they could into their little whisper circle. The bell rings, and he already wishes you could’ve continued the story.
Later, you promise. He holds you to that.
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Kaminari slings an arm over his shoulders in the locker room as they change into their hero costumes for afternoon classes, with Sero on his other side, and he stumbles from both shock and the added weight on him, his boot half-dangling from his foot.
“So, Todoroki-kun~” Kaminari’s lilting tone floating in from his right immediately sends his guard up, and he stared at him warily.
“How’s spring feeling for ya?” Sero continued from his left.
“…Isn’t it autumn right now?” Why were they talking about spring in the middle of October? Todoroki was too busy staring at Sero like he’d grown a second head to notice the collective silent groan ripple through the locker room.
“Oh my god, he really is clueless,” Kaminari whispers, Sero nodding along with a dumbstruck expression. He side-eyes them as he tugs his boot on the rest of the way, unamused. Clueless about what?
“Will he be okay?” It was Sero who spoke this time, completely ignoring the fact that they were having a conversation right over his head.
“I don’t know, man, he should be, right?”
“I’m literally right here. Did something happen?”
“A-Ah, nothing, nothing, just… checking up on you, you know?” As socially inept as he was, even he could recognize from a mile away that Kaminari was a terrible liar.
“…Why?” Okay, now he was really confused. He looked around the room to see if anyone could give him any hints, to no avail. Kirishima was too busy facepalming to notice his confusion, Ojiro was suddenly very interested in tying off his gi, and both Tokoyami and Bakugou were completely ignoring their antics. In a last attempt to figure out what the hell was even going on, he turned to Midoriya… who was trying to desperately look anywhere else other than at him. Something was up, and if Kaminari was involved, he didn’t have a good feeling about it.
“Y-You know, uh…” Kaminari was floundering for an answer, and sighed in relief once Iida came in to announce that they had five minutes to be ready. The pressure disappeared off his shoulders and Todoroki finished putting on the rest of his costume, the deep sense of unease tugging at the corner of his mind. There was something he wasn’t picking up on, and it felt like everyone but him knew.
He brushed it off to focus on class. Today was sparring day, after all, and Todoroki was partnered up with you. Maybe he’d see that smile again. The thought of it made fire lick at his fingers during the spar much quicker than usual.
He wasn’t disappointed, his heartbeat pounding in his ears even as the adrenaline fizzled out.
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Tomorrow morning finds him face-to-face with a grinning Mina and an overexcited Hagakure outside the classroom before class starts, along with the answers to his plight way sooner than he expected. They had called out to him and, before he knew it, he was cornered against the window with their too-wide smiles beaming up at him, hungry for the romance gossip they had been chasing after all year. Or, well, he was pretty sure Hagakure was smiling, at least. Mina, on the other hand, resembled the Cheshire Cat too closely for his liking.
“You like Y/N, don’t you, Todoroki-kun?”
“I don’t see why I shouldn’t?” To say he was confused was an understatement, but there’d been a lot of that lately so he just came to accept it. “Y/N is a good person with an impressive Quirk, so-”
“No, not like thaaat!” Mina wailed, and Todoroki blinked owlishly at the two girls as they both lamented the “densest pretty boy of UA”. Their words, not his. Did… did he say something wrong?
“Like what, then?”
“Ro-man-tic-al-ly!”
Todoroki bluescreened.
“Ro…man…?”
“Like, do you always end up looking at her whenever you’re in the same room?” Hagakure was practically vibrating from excitement, “Do you always want to listen to her or be near her? Or does your heart go ‘doki doki’ whenever you’re with her?!”
“Doki…doki?” Todoroki‘s brain, still rebooting from earlier, struggled to process the onslaught of information Hagakure was slamming him with. So far, however, all the answers he came up with were ‘Yes. Yes. A million times, yes’. “I… guess something’s been wrong with my heart lately? I looked it up and it said it was nothing to worry about, so-”
“Something’s not wrong, dummy! It’s love! And Y/N likes you back!” Mina exclaimed, and both her and Hagakure squealed as they celebrated finally having their first taste of high school romance, clasping hands and cheering.
“Doki doki Todoroki!” Hagakure cheered, Mina parroting her as they rode the high of their excitement. Meanwhile, Todoroki stared dumbly at the two girls in front of him, the dots slowly connecting in his mind. Everything was happening way too quick. And you liked him back? Wait, is that-
“Is that why Kaminari and Sero asked me how I was yesterday?”
“Ugh, that Kaminari~! He can’t even be subtle!” Todoroki could hear the pout in Hagakure’s voice, and Mina sighed and nodded in agreement. Well that answers that, at least. Now for the other million and one questions he had...
“So… what am I supposed to do now?”
“Confess!” Came Hagakure’s immediate response.
Well, that makes sense. Now that he has a grasp on what he’s feeling and he knows that you feel the same, it’s only logical that he should make them known.
“Okay, where is she?”
“In the classr-”
“Nuh-uh, hold it,” Mina stopped Todoroki from barging into the classroom, and he stared down at her, confusion mounting. Wasn’t she super excited just two seconds ago? What happened now?
“Minaaaa!” She ignored Hagakure’s impatient wail and poked him in the chest.
“You can’t just go in there and confess in the classroom in front of everybody!”
“…Why not?” He just had to tell you, so better sooner than later, right?
“Oh jeez, okay, um,” Mina pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to think of a way to explain this to easily the densest person she had the pleasure of knowing. And she knew Kaminari, for Christ’s sake, “It isn’t as romantic if you just go in there and blurt it out in front of everybody, and it puts her on the spot too, would you want that?”
No, you hated being put on the spot. He shook his head and Mina sighed in relief.
“Okay, so, what you’re gonna do is…”
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“Did you need to talk to me about something, Todoroki?”
Ah, there it was again. Could you hear his heart beating out of his chest from where you stood?
Classes had ended for the day and Mina had instructed him to confess after school at a specific spot (much to Hagakure’s chagrin, but she eventually agreed that it would be more romantic this way. Not like he knew what romantic looked like.) So, here he was, veering off your usual course from the dorms to this spot Mina had pointed out to him. It was where the trees broke just enough so the sunset could peek through the leaves. As inexperienced in, well, everything as he was, Todoroki had to admit Mina knew what she was talking about.
“Todoroki?”
The words he was told to recite sailed out the window the moment the time came, the light of the sunset casting you in a warm glow and God this wasn’t fair-
“…I like you.”
Oh, shit. Did he say that? Okay, yeah, he did. Oops.
He almost regrets it, but then he sees your lips bloom with a smile and the world goes quiet.
“I like you too, Todoroki.”
You crushed him in a hug and Todoroki wrapped his arms around you, smiling as he felt your own heart racing against his. His heart beating a mile a minute didn’t sound too bad anymore.
As long as it beat for you.
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aerinsfables · 3 years
Text
Flower Shop AU, part 3
See part 2 here.
——
Monday morning found Bracken back at the shop again. He normally had Sundays and Mondays off, but the sister who worked with him and their mother had had a conflict that day and asked him to cover her shift. “Besides,” she’d reasoned, “You’re always there, anyway.”
He’d made to protest that, despite her comments, he did in fact have a social life (not an entirely truthful statement), but then he saw her excited face and remembered that she was planning to surprise her girlfriend with a lunchtime marriage proposal, so he ultimately smiled and told her he’d be happy to take her shift if she promised to bring his soon-to-be sister-in-law over that night for dinner.
Today’s list of tasks included signing for a delivery of several different types of lilies, making some general “have a good day” and “I love you” bouquets for passersby who might wish to stop inside and pick up some flowers for their friend or significant other during the day, put together a special birthday order to be delivered tomorrow, purchase more flowers which would be needed for a couple of large arrangements that had been ordered for an upcoming funeral, call a few customers to let them know their orders were ready to pick up, and of course, more corsages and boutonnières for the coming weekend. His father would be arriving later that morning to assist, but Bracken always opened the shop, so he’d be on his own for another two or three hours.
Bracken took a peek into one of the refrigeration units inside the shop and pulled out two vases with arranged flowers and colorful ribbons. He placed those on top of the front counter and returned twice more to pull out a total of four additional vases, all of which he placed on the countertop. His trained and careful eye examined each of the arrangements to check for droopy buds, wilting leaves or other problems, but he found none; his mother had assembled these particular arrangements, and her work was flawless as usual. He called the first customer to let them know their order was ready to be picked up, and was midway through dialing the second customer’s phone number when a flurry of motion caught his eye and caused him to turn his attention to the street outside. The shop itself was located alongside a relatively busy street which usually experienced a lot of pedestrian, bicycle and vehicle traffic, but Bracken’s jaw dropped when he saw what had managed to pull him out of his work mindset.
Kendra. She was being pulled by a taller man - a bit roughly, Bracken noted, and also very obviously against her will - from the cafe across the street toward a car which had been parked not far from the very flower shop where Bracken was located.
Well. That wasn’t going to stand.
He was out the door in a flash, without bothering to lock up. Kendra looked like she was in trouble, and although he still didn’t really know her, he’d be damned if he sat back and witnessed anyone being forced to go anywhere or do anything against their will.
“You think that was funny?!” Bracken heard the man yell at her. “You leave those crazy ass flowers on my doorstep, then ghost me all weekend?! What the hell is your problem?!”
“Leave me alone!” she cried as she struggled to break free of his hold on her. “Stop!”
Run faster.
“Hey! Kendra!” Bracken called as he ran. His hail grabbed the attention of both parties, and he managed to intercept them before they made it all the way to what Bracken figured was the man’s car.
“Get lost,” the man told him.
“Let me go!” Kendra shouted, tears streaming down her face.
Bracken placed his hands on top of Kendra’s arm, then pried the man’s hand off of her and set her free. “The lady wishes for you to leave her alone,” he said simply. The man, who had dark, curly hair and what would probably have been handsome features if his face weren’t contorted in rage, yanked his hand out of Bracken’s grasp and moved to take hold of Kendra again. Bracken stepped between them, effectively blocking the man’s access to Kendra with his own body. “Excuse me,” he said. “I don’t know who you are, but it’s time for you to leave.”
“I told you to get lost,” the man positively seethed. He looked like he was going to hit Bracken, who was prepared to defend himself, when another man suddenly dashed in front of Bracken and knocked Kendra’s assailant to the ground. Bracken knew the newcomer - his name was Warren, and he and his brother owned the cafe across the street.
“Who the hell do you think you are, dragging Kendra around like a ragdoll?!” Warren yelled. “I warned you. I straight up warned you. Get out of here. If you know what’s good for you, you will never come around here again. Got it?!”
The man on the ground held a hand to his cheek. Bracken could see a bruise already forming below his eye. “You’re psychotic,” he said to Warren.
“And you’re an astounding piece of trash. If I hear about you hurting Kendra ever again, you’ll be buried trash. Have I made myself clear?” Warren’s face was flushed, and his fists quivered with what Bracken recognized as barely-concealed rage.
Bracken turned toward Kendra, whose cheeks were wet from continued tears and who also cradled her arm - the one the man had grabbed - in front of her. “Are you injured?” he asked as gently as he could.
She shook her head no.
“Do me a favor and get her out of here, Bracken,” Warren said, his eyes trained on the guy who was still lying on the ground. “I’m going to stand here and make sure this loser leaves.”
A small crowd of people were gathering to watch the show, and Bracken agreed that it would be best to remove Kendra from the situation. With a careful hand, he lightly touched her back and gestured toward the flower shop. “Would you like to come inside for a moment?” he asked.
Kendra didn’t verbally respond, but she let him guide her away from the scene and into the store. Bracken led her into the back room, the one he and his family primarily used to store their tools and miscellaneous supplies (vases, plastic wrappings, ribbons, the die-cut machine and materials, shears and scissors, etc.) and pulled out a chair for her to sit on. He then retrieved a couple of water bottles from the refrigerator in that room and passed one to her. She accepted it, but didn’t say anything, and continued to weep.
Concern flooded Bracken’s brain. He didn’t know who that guy had been, but after witnessing the altercation outside, he could understand why Kendra wasn’t in a condition to speak at the moment. “May I see your arm?” he asked.
Kendra hesitated, then stretched her arm out in front of her. It was red around her wrist, and looked tender. He wouldn’t be surprised if bruises started to form later. “It looks alright,” he stated. “I don’t have any ice, unfortunately, but I do have another chilled water bottle I can offer you, if you’d like to use it as a cold compress for now.”
“Th-th-thank y-you,” she gasped as she tried to control her sobs.
His heart went out to her. Was it inappropriate for him to hug her? Probably. She didn’t know him! And he was positive that he was making her feel awkward while he just stood there and watched her cry. He placed a tentative hand on her upper arm. “Would you like to have some time by yourself?”
She gave an emphatic nod at that question.
Bracken withdrew his hand and said, “You’re safe here. Stay as long as you need to. I can order in lunch for the both of us, later, if you’d like. My father will be here in a couple of hours, but I can tell him to leave you alone.” He cast his gaze around the room and found a few boxes of tissues, opened one, and set it down on a countertop near Kendra. “For you,” he said. “I’ll be right outside this door, making phone calls and otherwise managing the front. Feel free to call for me if you need anything.”
A shaky “thank you” was received, and he pulled the door shut as he exited. Later, when she’d calmed down, perhaps he’d ask her some of the questions which were bouncing around in his mind. Who was that guy? Did she want to press charges? Get a restraining order? Was her house safe from him? What had she been doing around this area?
Not that he was upset she’d been right outside - he was actually glad for that. He had no idea how she knew Warren, and couldn’t have predicted his involvement, but at the very least, Bracken was glad to have been able to help in some way.
Speaking of Warren. His entrance into the store caused the little bells at the front to ring. Bracken greeted him and said, “She’s safe, she’s in the back room here,” and pointed to the door behind him. “She wanted some privacy.”
“Thanks for your help out there,” Warren said. “That piece of shit finally fled the scene after he screamed some more. Dumbass thinks he can hurt Kendra. She’ll be staying with me, at least until he’s no longer a threat. Idiot.”
“I’m glad she has someone like you to help her,” Bracken replied. “Her wrist, where she was being pulled around, may start to bruise later. I didn’t notice any other injuries, thankfully.”
Warren placed a hand on Bracken’s shoulder. “Seriously,” he reiterated. “Thank you for your help. If you hadn’t intervened…” he trailed off. “You gave me the extra few seconds I needed in order to jump over some customers and get out there. Thanks again.”
“It was no trouble,” Bracken said. “I couldn’t watch that happen and not do something about it. Kendra doesn’t deserve that treatment. No one does.”
“It was trouble, but I’m grateful you were there.” Warren removed his hand. “Is it okay if I go see her?”
“Be my guest,” Bracken replied. “If you know her well, I really think she could use a hug.”
“That girl is my honorary baby sister,” he said. “She’ll get as many hugs as she wants, and then I’m taking her to my house where she’ll get all the comfort food she could ever need, along with the TV remote. I’ll give her the rest of the week off, if she wants.”
“She works for you?” Bracken asked, unprepared for that particular realization. She worked across the street?
“Yeah,” Warren said. “That douchebag showed up and took hold of her right when she was walking in for her shift. Busiest time of the day. She didn’t even make it to the front door.” He looked at the door behind Bracken again, who caught his cue.
“Go right inside,” Bracken told him. “Stay as long as you’d like.”
“Thanks again,” Warren repeated. “Seriously. Thank you.”
It wasn’t much longer before Warren and Kendra exited the flower shop, with the former shielding the latter from view. Bracken bid them both farewell, and best wishes, then resumed making phone calls to his customers.
Later that afternoon, shortly before Bracken left for the day, an email popped into the store’s mailbox. He recognized it as an answer to one of the surveys they always sent out after someone picked up their order. This one was from Kendra.
A five-star ranking, accompanied by the simple words, Thank you.
He broke protocol and responded back to her. You’re welcome. Please be safe.
—————
Read part 4 here!
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i.changkyun / reader
genre: yandere!changkyun, librarian!reader (sex worker!changkyun)
warning(s)!!!: clubbing, mentions of sex/sex work, obsessive behavior, stalking, ‘love at first sight’ but messed up, masturbation (male), implied violence/murder, manipulation, changkyun plays the nice guy role but isn’t, changkyun is also pretty messed up (oops), y/n is oblivious to an astounding degree, implied drugging, chains/collars, confinement, kidnapping
w.count: 12.3k
Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble [Rated: M] 
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synopsis: im changkyun is a prime sex worker at a local club.  nothing gets his pride swelling more than any poser off the street willing to come into his club and pin bills between the elastic of his fishnets and skin. what he finds more exhilarating than any show, pole climb or heated one-night stand, however; is the one sober woman sitting among her group of wasted friends in a velvet, vip booth. he’ll do anything to know everything about her; putting on a friendly smile was only the first step. 
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a/n: you can blame DAZED for this mess (hi, just in case you need a reminder, this is purely fiction and not at all who changkyun rly is as a person. nothing about this is okay in irl) 
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This was nothing new.  This was just the way his life always played out.  An exhilarating erotic number on a stage with a pole, fishnets and teasing personality followed by the highest bidder to continue his line of work in a more secluded section of the club. 
Fantasia Dyed may have been a newer club against its competitors that have been around for years, but the workers and staff inside raised the bar previously set.  While clubs can be shady to begin with, what with the use of alcohol at every turn, murmurs of drugs, and agreements to met up for a quick money job- Fantasia Dyed had a reputation of the best line of sex workers you could get your dirty hands on. If you had the money, that was. 
Im Changkyun was the front man of that line up. Wanted by men, women and anyone in between- if you had the cash he demanded for his services, he was yours for the night.  He had no qualm so long as you paid and used the protection he required to keep your own STIs to your damn self.  He really wasn’t picky, and he never stopped to ask himself as to why.  
So, this- crawling out of some random woman’s creaky, box spring bed and pulling on the clothes he had lost earlier- was nothing new.  He looked over his shoulder as he ran his black painted fingers through his blond hair.  
The woman was passed out, a fuzzy, brown blanket covering her body as Changkyun turned away from her.  Throwing his shirt back on, flinging his jacket over his shoulders and thrusting his arms through the sleeves, he shimmied on his black skinnies and boots.  Grabbing his abandoned black, clutch bag from the stranger's couch he unclasped it to look at the envelope of bills he had received just hours earlier from his ‘client’.  
Throwing himself on the couch, he crossed his legs and counted the bills, smirking when he was adamant he was paid in full- with even a small service tip he assumed- to cover over his asking price for the night.  Satisfied, he got up and left that small apartment he had stumbled into. 
It was only when he entered his own home- the top floor penthouse of some wealthy building- did he wonder just for the briefest of moments if he was truly satisfied. 
-x-x-x-
“Y/n, if you don't come with me to Fantasia like you promised you would 2 years ago when it opened now that I finally have the money and the chance for my birthday, you’re being grounded.” 
You, who was busy replacing books that you had been wheeling around on your return cart back on the shelf, had the lovely company of your best friend sitting behind you at a library table as you worked.  She’d been going on and on about her birthday plans and while you were happy she was excited about them, she was adamant on adding you to the attendee list.  
Maybe it was cliche, but the oh-so-thrilling life you lived as a librarian of your local public library painted a rather ‘stay at home’ picture of you; and that is exactly how you wanted it.  The whole reason you took this job opportunity was because the head librarian noticed you come in every other Wednesday for a new list of to-reads to rent and offered a position after she got to know you a bit better.  
Had you had the choice, you’d stay cooped up in your house with a good book, a nice warm drink, a rainy day and peace and quiet for the rest of your life. But, of course, that was a fantasy.  Your social life was barely breathing, with Halie-the insistent best friend behind you- being the center of your social solar system.  
You were a prime recluse, you didn’t even keep in touch with your parents as often as you should since they were so utterly upset you were throwing so much ‘potential’ away when you decided to be a librarian instead of going into some out of this world career field. 
You had Halie and Halie had connections with just about everyone ever.  She was easy to adapt to personalities and was generally kind to anyone she meets unless they’re rude first.  She was a prime example of a modern ‘dream girl’ that people had.  Though, she was still your friend no matter who she is with anyone else.  
Was that naive of you? 
“Y/n, I’m telling you, you’ve gotta cooooome,” she whined.  Sitting backward in her chair, leaning back and pulling on the back of the chair. You sighed, pushing a spine of a book into its rightful you had just mapped out.  “Please,” she begged in a pathetically, high pitched voice. 
“If I go, will you stop whining?” You asked with your back still towards her, but you could practically see the smile on her face with the small, over-dramatic gasp she let out.  You almost immediately regretted your choice, and wished you could take it back. You knew Halie wouldn’t let it happen though.  You’ve spoken and now her selective hearing will kick on and she wouldn’t hear you even if you changed your mind.  
“So, you’re going?!” She screeched as you turned around and shushed her.  She was in a library. With a few more accepting statements from you solidifying your attendance to her birthday, she left happily as you finished stocking your shelves in dread before sitting behind your check-out counter with the same dread- only 10x stronger. 
You watched the time tick by on the computer screen at work, the watch around your wrist on the way home, the hanging clock on your living room wall and the alarm you set on your phone for 9 pm when you were set to get ready.  Time passed far too fast for your liking- you couldn’t even squeeze in a nap to help the nerves. 
Before you knew it, you were walking out of your home, locking the door behind you with the only acceptable club outfit you could think of as you made your way to Fantasia Dyed, texting Halie that you were dreadfully on the way. 
-x-x-x-
“Hey, Kyun! Take ten, dude!” Changkyun, who had just stepped down off of the high perched stage covered in sweat ruffled his blond hair that clung to his forehead in strands.  He nodded as he grabbed his bottle of water, slouching in a nearby domed-stool.  
One of his ankle high, black platform boots propped up on the stool’s ring with the other on the ground.  The white tank top he had personally cut off to end at his rib cage and expose his stomach drenched in spots of sweat.  Black skinnies clinging to his toned legs and his fishnets showing loud and proud through the open knees of his jeans and wrapping around the perfection of his waist.  Having left his faux fur coat in the employee lounge for the night.  
His dark eyes scanned the floor level he was currently occupying the best he could from his seat at the juice bar- for the lameizoids who wanted something non-alcoholic at his club.  He glanced at the wristwatch strapped onto the inside of his wrist and checked the time.  It was only just past 10 as he smirked.  
The night was still young.  
From not too far off in a different area than he was, he heard a small commotion starting to murmur.  From the looks of what he could see over his sips of water and his bangs hanging in his eyes as he flipped them annoyingly out of his way over and over, it may have been someone’s birthday.  Guest after guest going into the same area with the same woman in stockings and a cocktail dress hugging and greeting them.  
A VIP birthday reservation; that did ring a small bell somewhere in the overbooked mind of the club worker.  Perhaps it would pay off if he did some of his work within their sights.  Birthday crowds almost always paid off in terms of after work lip service and bonus pay.  
Stepping his foot off the lower ring of the stool he had been comfortably sitting on, he stood as he set his bottle on the juice bar. The tender at the particular unpopular drink selection area took it and tucked it away under the bar where Changkyun always asked him to put it so no one tried to get creative with it.  
Walking around the venue area, he strutted by the lower ground VIP booth surrounded by thick, velvet ropes.  Whoever this birthday diva was, she sure went all out to keep her and her group uninterrupted.  A lower level 10 person booth, a table full of booze and a secure perimeter to keep outsiders rightfully out of her hair.  Just from the set up, she must’ve been some spoiled princess.
However, what really caught his gaze was one particular woman.  A woman dressed in a tank top, a cheap looking fake leather jacket and dark jeans.  Perhaps not ideal for Fantasia’s club etiquette and whatever she was sipping on in her clear glass certainly didn’t seem like any alcoholic beverage to his trained eye.  His pierced brow ticked up as he walked fully by and the table of rambunctious party-goers left his sight around the wall.  
“Must be a prude,” he murmured but somehow, he almost felt guilty when the words left his mouth.  He couldn’t fathom at all why. It stalled him physically as he stopped in his tracks for just a moment before strutting further away from the booth to scope out a good area to work his magic.  
The moment midnight hit Changkyun was being flagged over by the absolutely smashed table he had passed earlier that night.  The VIP birthday booth had confidently called him over.  As he moseyed his way over, with a few of his coworkers already there to entertain the group, he was greeted by some drunken man hanging off his shoulder. 
Among the group of drunk or passed out party goers, there was the same woman from earlier who still seemed completely sober.  Changkyun raised his eyebrow as he shook the man on his shoulder off as he stumbled around and clung to the next nearest bod. He walked over to your side and sat himself down beside you on the velvet booth.  
Crossing his legs, he watched you flinch when he plopped himself down, his elbows rising to rest on the back of the booth, his hand hovering close to your face.  He sure made himself comfortable. He had to admit though, as you sipped on yet another refill of something nonalcoholic, you were pretty easy going on the eyes. 
“You sure don’t seem like you’re having any fun, lady,” he chided as he lifted one arm off the back of the booth to push his hair back out of his eyes for only the millionth time that evening.  He heard you nervously chuckle beside him and something about the sound of it stirred pleasantly in his chest. 
“Well, this isn’t exactly my scene,” you told him.  Your voice was soft like Christmas bells, but it erupted in his ears, making the background of sounds and voices and bass all drown out.  He was solely focused on your lips and the sound they produced when you spoke he couldn’t hear anything else.  
“Not your scene, but here you sit in mine,” he teased as he smirked at you.  You tapped the side of your glass that had become a slipping hazard from it’s condensation. Changkyun looked at the friends around you who seemed to be having the time of their young lives.  “You’re friends seem to be enjoying themselves.” 
“Well, they go out a lot. I really don’t like these kinds of places,” you told him before you looked at him with a slightly apologetic smile.  “No offense.”  
“Club scenes aren’t for everyone, I understand that. If you hate it so much, why did you come here?” He asked as you sighed, dipping your chin.  He felt a small spark of panic rise in his throat as he saw you suddenly even more forlorn than you have been.  Did he put that look on your face by asking your dumb questions? 
He mentally halted himself, once again wondering why it affected him so much what you did and did not like or how you acted.  
“It’s my best friend’s birthday so she pretty much begged me to come with her tonight,” you lifted your head and looked over to where she was, downing yet another shot.  You’d have to remember to book a cab for her to go home- if she doesn’t go home with the staff member she keeps clinging to.  “I probably won’t stay much longer since she pretty much forgot I’m even here,” you pouted.  
Changkyun’s eyes swelled at the precious pout to your lips as you whined about being forgotten because you were sober and weren’t partying like an animal.  What was wrong with him? 
“Do you like coffee?” He suddenly blurted out.  He couldn’t stop the words from forcing their way out of his mouth before his brain could functionally filter them or even stop them.  He gulped when you turned to look at him in the eyes for the first time that night.  Maybe it was the neon lights in the club or maybe it was the dim atmosphere that made them so enticing to gaze into, but he was locked in your gaze- unable to break away from you.  His jaw nearly dropped open as he explored the color of them surrounded by the club's aura.  
“Coffee?” You asked in clarification. He just clamped his teeth together before nodding once. “Well, I’m not the biggest coffee fan in the world, but I like teas’ and I can handle a frappe if I’m in the mood for it.” 
“I get off at three,” he told you as he desperately tried to keep eye contact. “If you find the stomach to hang around another three hours, we can get some?” He pitched as his voice that was normally always confident- as it should be for his line of grade-a work- shook just slightly with the booming club bass. 
Your eyes shifted when he put the offer out there, and he started to internally panic.  Would you say no? Would you politely decline him and try and carry on like he never said a word? Or would you turn him down and leave?  Then, it hit him.  You were in a club; a club popular for sex work and Changkyun happened to lead that gaggle of workers. It’s pretty damn obvious you were assuming he had some ulterior motive. For once, he didn’t. 
He dropped his elbow from the back of the booth as he turned towards you slightly, scooting forward to the edge of the booth seat.  
“I don’t mean to hook up or anything,” he clarified, “I just want to get to you know, so I wanted to get coffee at an ungodly hour.” The hands he waved around to try and help convince you quickly settled onto his jean torn, and fishnet covered lap.  “If you want to.” 
You sat and considered his offer.  It was Saturday, and the library was closed on Sundays so you could technically afford to be out later than you typically would.  And a late night chat with someone other than your wasted party of friends did sound tempting.  He seemed kind enough, even with his get up and the flashes of a performance you had glimpsed earlier with him on the lifted stage and poles.  You should never judge a book by it’s cover, just because he seemed like someone who slept around all the time, didn’t mean he was a bad guy, right?  
You smiled at him and his breath left him in one fell swoop.  It was like your smile materialized into a pro-boxer and just gut punched him. And he loved it.  
“A three am frappe sounds great,” you told him.  He smiled back wider than he knew he could. He thanked you before he excused himself to go back to work.  However, before he went back to the floor, he practically sprinted into the single employee bathroom and locked himself inside. 
He slammed his back against the door as his knees wobbled and he grew weaker. His breath was staggered as his chest heaved in unsteady shudders.  His fingertips shook and he had shivers running up his back from the memory of your eyes and that smile.  He started chuckling to himself in the empty bathroom as he felt his cheeks flush.  
God he felt so euphoric in the moment, it was practically erotic.  Whatever was wrong with him, he started questioning if it was really wrong if it made him feel so good. 
-x-x-x-
It was ten till three in the morning when Changkyun did one last check to make sure you hadn’t left yet.  Almost your whole party was passed out, had gone home by cab or with someone else at this point.  The club was nearly ready to shut down for the night as they started to chase people out. You saw him peek around into the VIP booth area as you smiled and waved to him reassuringly.  That same tightness coiled in his chest as he rushed to the employee locker room. 
A fellow pole dancer who was peeling off his skintight, laced finger-less gloves perked an eyebrow up at the rushing blond.  He hadn’t seen the worker so eager to get out of there before. 
“Some kind of big surprise waiting for you outside those doors or something, hot stuff?” He asked. Changkyun shook his head, too busy searching for his clutch behind his fur coat so he could meet up with you.  Yanking on the furry sleeves that felt almost too warm all of a sudden, he snatched the no longer hidden clutch from his locker shelf and slammed it shut.  
“Something better,” he breathed in promise to himself more than his coworker as he jogged out, his long coat bouncing off the back of his knees.  He came out of the room, seeing you standing and in the company of a different worker who was still relatively new to Fantasia Dyed. A rookie at best and his eyes hardened as the man spoke to you. 
Leaning far too close to you, breathing too close to you and smiling far too seductively at you. He was clearly looking for a bed to crash in, but Changkyun hated it.  Loathed it even as he felt his lips pull back in a grimace mimicking a defensive mutt.  He stomped towards you and inserted himself between the nuisance and yourself. 
Pushing his palms against the worker’s chest, he harshly shoved him backwards and took a few steps back himself towards you.  He felt like he was on fire, feeling you standing directly behind him.  He thought he could feel your warmth radiating onto his back like sun rays and it almost made him sweat.  He felt torn between feeling ecstatic that you were so close to him or completely pissed off at the man who stood shell shocked after being pushed away.  
“She’s taken already,” Changkyun growled.  He shocked even himself with his tone, something coiling further and beating in his chest so violently he swore he felt his chest jerk forward with each beat of his heart. 
The coworker raised his hands. “Chill out, man. ‘Didn’t know she was yours.” Something ignited the coil in Changkyun’s chest and sent sparks in his mind at the man's words. His? Yes… that sounds exactly right. 
It sounded blissfully perfect as the man walked off and the blond turned around to see you and properly escort you out of Fantasia Dyed. He watched your back as you left in front of him- ladies first- and he let a grin crawl across his face.  Unaware of how his eyes looked as they burned into the silhouette of your body.  
His. 
Changkyun led you out of the club, but neither of you expected it to be raining at three o’clock in the morning.  You gasped as you instinctively brought your hands up above your head. You were wearing makeup and if it got wet, it was all over.  Changkyun was quick to rip the coat from his shoulders and sling it around you.  It had no hood, but he placed the collar of it above your head as you grabbed the edges of it to pull it around your body.  
He nearly gasped when his finger brushed your hand, handing off his coat before he was pulling his keys from his clutch and pushing buttons to unlock his car that was parked just around the corner on the side of the building.  He reached around your shoulder and started directing you in the rain.  
It was only when he sat you in his car, nice and dry, when he ran to get into the drivers sid, slam the door shut, start the car and crank the heat to get rid of the wet shivers you had due to the rain, did he realize he had just touched you again.  Although his coat was under his arm, so were you as you ran through the rain.  He had to contain yet another delightful shiver. 
You shimmied the coat off your head to around your shoulders before you pulled it out from behind you and placed it on your lap as you pulled the seatbelt across your chest.  You looked at Changkyun who was already looking at you, but flinched and started fidgeting with his wheel and knobs for the radio in his car to distract himself. 
“I didn’t realize there was rain in the forecast this morning. I wouldn’ve have brought an umbrella.” You briefly blessed the idea that Changkyun asked you out because you had taken the bus and walked the rest of the trip to Fantasia, so getting home would have been a long walk considering the buses don’t run at three freakin’ am. 
Changkyun cleared his throat, whipping his blond, wet bangs out of his face and onto the top of his head, clearing his forehead as he shifted out of park. 
“So,” he started, “where do you want to go?” You tossed ideas around in your head and it was so early, hardly any place would be open except the occasional fast food place or gas station.  Offering him the choice between an open, probably dead lobby for some fast food or grabbing a drink and hanging in the car in the rain, he was driving off to the closest food location.  
As nice as it sounded being secluded in a car with coffee and the sound of rain, he wouldn't be able to look you in the eyes as you spoke as well. 
Changkyun took you to the place he would often stop for some after work food before going home or meeting up with someone. Because he knew the manager so well (and because the manager was always in store by three to start preparing for the staff to come in at six) Changkyun was allowed an early entrance. 
Even though you offered to get your own drink, Changkyun wasn’t allowing you to pay for anything since it was him who asked you out. Besides, it wasn’t exactly expensive to buy some caffeinated drinks- especially since he got a special discount too. The manager who always got him his food or drinks ready at this hour was shocked to see him with company this time around. 
Time seemed to become truly nonexistent to Changkyun as soon as the both of you sat down at a back corner table- away from anyone's eyes from outside as to not cause the manager grief if someone should come demanding entrance because Changkyun was inside. You both talked about anything and everything he could think to ask you to get to know you better.  
He learned that you were a librarian and that you didn’t go to school- forgetting about any further education after high school because you weren’t sure what you really wanted to do with your life. He found out bits and pieces about your family situations- gathering that you weren’t close and that you had no siblings to speak of. Your friends were small in number and that you weren’t really close to anyone aside from Halie- the proffered birthday girl at the club. 
He mentally thanked Halie for begging you to come to the club, considering if you hadn’t Changkyun would have never laid eyes on you. 
In turn, he shared what he could in return for your stories.  He had been working in the sex world for a few years now, quickly and unfortunately getting roped into it after a nasty breakup when he had just turned 21. When he realized just how desirable he could be, he started working out and eating better to keep his physique so business kept rolling in for him.  He was actually scouted by the assistant manager of Fantasia Dyed to work there- but it was the pay and benefits that really dragged him in.  He didn’t dislike his career, so he had no reason to say no anyways.  
At least with Fantasia Dyed, he had benefits to get himself into the doctor if one of his clients ever lied and gave him some gross sex disease- then of course he’d sue them into the ground for not following his work guidelines. He told you about why he pierced his eyebrow and even the stories behind the tattoos on his back. 
Oddly enough, despite your absolute opposite backgrounds, you both spoke and got alone brilliantly.  It was a balance of lifestyles and Changkyun basked in everything you had to say.  You didn’t shun him or sneer at his life as a sex worker and maybe it was the lack of disgust and prejudiced that really flipped something in his head.  
You did not judge him. You did not hate him. You laughed at whatever joke he pitched.  You blushed at whatever lame pick up line he slid into conversation. You groaned playfully at his equally playful flirting. You were making him fall and he did- hook, line and heavy sinker.  
He was absolutely, unbelievably head over heels for you and he felt like he was on fire. 
You both talked and talked until you had noticed that the sky started to change color and the rain had stopped. The sun was rising and you were suddenly overly aware of how exhausted you really were.  Changkyun saw you stifle a yawn and although it felt like his heartstrings were going to tear in his chest, he was quick to get up and offer you a ride home as the manager started to truly open the lobby for business as nearly all morning staff were present.  
As you sat in the car with him, directing him on what roads to take to get to your home, he found himself memorizing every turn. When you told him to keep it slow and then pointed out your small little apartment duplex, he looked at every crevice his eyes could see from the car window.  The neighborhood was somewhere small, but there was a small park just across the block so he expected it to be fairly busy during the day. 
As he bid you farewell, and watched you get safely inside before driving away, he struggled to contain his breath.  When he rolled into the apartment parking lot and up to his penthouse, he was quick to lock his door and lift his coat to his face.  
It smelt different than usual.  It had your shampoo’s scent embedded into its fake fur. It had the smell of your perfume and the smell of you inside of it.  He fell asleep that morning until afternoon with his coat curled around him instead of a blanket.  That feeling of euphoria chasing him until he finally fell asleep- only to have a set of specific dreams involving you in one of his reserved back rooms at Fantasia Dyed. 
-x-x-x-
Over the course of the next week, Changkyun did his damnedest to keep his eyes on you at all times he possibly could.  He’d wake up in the afternoon and find a way to enter the library you worked at and slip into a corner behind a bookshelf with a book to disguise his obvious staring of you.  When you’d leave the desk to replace books, he’d move to avoid your eyes, when you’d help a guest with their books to check out, he’d growl when it was a man that you smiled at.  When you got off work, he’d trial behind you just enough to stay unnoticed. He’d watch you get home every afternoon and one night he even put a small camera on one of the fake branches of your fake bush you hand sitting in a pot on your porch.  
He’d sit in his car or in his penthouse and watch the feed on his phone if it buzzed with a notification of movement.  If you were leaving, he’d jump into action to try and find out where you were going if it was an unusual time.  He’d watch you go to the store to shop or into some food place for something to eat. 
He’s even seen you meet up with Halie a few times and each time he did, he hated that wench more and more.  That obviously spoiled princess wasn’t good enough to be around you, acting like a typical romance villain and obvious snake.  You were smart, so he was curious as to why you trusted her so much. She was clearly brainwashing you and keeping you around as a tool. 
Changkyun had a mental list of enemies and people he hated, and she was ranked number one among that list- along with all the men he saw speak or flirt with you.  He wanted to get them away from you, throw them out of the picture and clean your mind of their filth. 
During his work hours, and after even, he’d still get randoms to get into bed with him- but his mind would be filled with everything about you.  The person underneath him would disappear and your face and body and voice would take hold in his brain like some sort of spell.  He’d fuck into man or woman with such fervor he’d be getting calls from his manager that he was requested for service back to back.  
He hit euphoria and erotic highs with you just in his mind, he nearly came undone when he thought how it would feel actually fucking you.  He’d go home from work, from another sex session and he’d lay on his bed, on his couch, sit at his table or collapse in his doorway and wear himself thin with his hand at the thought of your touch instead of his or someone else.  
He sat on the cold floor of his front door entrance, his leather, skintight pants unzipped and cock slipped through the hole in his boxers.  His hand squeezed his length as his fingers rubbed and pinched and squeezed around the head and slit. It was so dry as his hand slid up and down painfully on his shaft.  His hips bucked to meet his hands motions and his legs twitched in their perched, spread position.  His stomach was tight as his opposite hand came to pinch and twist his nipples- his shirt discarded as he slid down the door upon his entry earlier. 
It was so dry- it was hardly enjoyable- but it was painfully erotic. He couldn’t stop and the precum leaking from his cockhead wasn’t nearly enough for his hand to not pull on the delicate skin making him hiss.  Taking his lip between his teeth and breathing so heavily he stuttered, he watched his hand abuse his cock. 
The hand that played with his nipples shot down to hold his wrist as he finished himself off, cumming with the sound of your name spilling from his lips in lewd, breathless moans.  He lay on the floor, slouched and exhausted as cum stuck, drying to his chest and pants. 
He was so utterly, disgustingly, blissfully obsessed with you and he felt like he was losing his mind. His mind was filled to the brim with you, you, you.  He spent every waking hour he could preparing.  Yes, he had to make sure that everything would be perfect for when you’d finally come to him.  
You deserved nothing short of perfection- and Changkyun would fuck anyone, get paid anything and obtain whatever it was you desired to make sure you got exactly that.  However, it would take time- much to his dismay. 
He knew he had to get ready before he could possibly have you.  He started cleaning out a room he used as storage in his penthouse and got to work.  
It was ten days after your three am date that Changkyun decided to play innocent and ‘bump’ into you at work one day.  He was impatient and couldn’t wait any longer to speak to you again, to hear your voice directed at him again and not at someone else.  
He entered the library confidently that day, dressed in blue jeans, low heeled boots and a tee that was stretched just a bit at the collar.  His hair unstyled and glasses on his nose with his clutch under his arm.  He didn’t want to go over the top in style, so he tried to match your neutral style of dress.  
He took a moment to look at you before he took a breath and walked up to the desk, placing a fake smile of shock on his face when you looked up to see him.  He nearly fell to his knees when he saw your eyes shine and your mouth split into a smile and wave at him.  If he could, he would’ve ran the rest of the way to the desk instead of walked.  
When he walked at the desk, he leaned and laid his arms in front of one another on the desktop, bending and crossing his ankles together and grinned at you.  
“Well, fancy meeting you here, madam librarian,” he greeted, acting as if he hadn’t been here daily for the past week just to see you work.  
“It’s been a little bit, it’s good to see you Changkyun,” you said and he felt himself shift sinfully.  “I’d ask you why you’re here, but it’s a library, so,” you chuckled at yourself.  Oh, how he missed the sound of that laugh.  “Did you come looking for something specific?” You asked as he jut his lip out in thought.  
“Not necessarily. I just felt like cracking open a book, and what better place to start looking? It's a pleasant surprise you work at this library. It’s close to where I live.” That was true, there were two other libraries in town and this one was the closest to him. You hummed at him. “Could you recommend something to me?” He grew giddy when you smiled widely and stood from your desk chair and started to walk around the desk, motioning for him to follow you. 
As you asked him what he liked and disliked, leading him down the isles and scanning book after book, keeping small conversation he wished he could push you against a bookshelf and have his wicked way with you. He knew better, however; you needed to be taken care of in a specific set of ways and against a bookshelf wasn’t it- tempting as it may be. 
“Here,” you told him as you spun around and placed a book in his hands.  As he took it, he quirked a small, teasing smile as he looked at you as if you were playing a joke on him. 
“Twilight? Really, Y/n?” In his hand sat the book that sprung up the cheesy, cliche and overall, not so great movies he watched with one of his old friends for gags one night in his teens- completely drunk he may add.  
“Hey, don’t judge a book by it’s cover- or it’s movies. It’s better than you think.” You shoved the book closer to his chest. “Just give it a chance, please?” When you ask so adorably with your lip jutted out just enough for him to fantasize leaning down to bite into it with his teeth, he had no choice but to comply.  He’d read this book cover to cover, backwards even had you asked.  He’d do whatever you wished. 
He spent the afternoon halfway reading at a table near the desk and halfway watching you work until your shift concluded.  When you were packing up, he scrambled to get his clutch and mark the page he had to reread over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate and rushed up and over to your side.  
“Are you finished for the day?” He asked although he already knew the answer.  You nodded as he touched your arm, grabbing gently around your elbow.  “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked as he saw your cheeks grew in the most vibrant color of rose. 
“I, uh,” you cleared your throat and rubbed the back of your neck with your free arm. “I’m not dressed for a date though,” you pouted. Changkyun licked his lips, desperate not to let you get away from him just yet.  
“Then, tomorrow,” he pitched, “when you’re free tomorrow we can go out.” Tomorrow was Wednesday, and he knew that you always left work early on Wednesdays.  He watched you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you licked your lips before rolling them over your teeth and then opening your mouth. 
“I can do tomorrow,” you muttered, face fully flushed with redness flooding into the tips of your ears.  He released your arm with a giant smile.  He flicked his bangs out of his face as he felt his glasses slip just a bit further down his nose.  He reached into his clutch as he dug out his phone and handed it to you with the new contact screen up. 
“Let’s swap numbers then, and we can work out everything through the phone.” You didn’t hesitate to place your number into his phone before sending yourself a text with ‘it’s changkyun’ attached to the message.  You promptly added him in your contacts as well.  Offering you a ride home, which you took, he dropped you off and when he walked into his penthouse that afternoon he pumped his fist into the air.  As well as stared at the palm in which held your arm earlier, gazing at it as if he had just touched the blessed body of a holy messiah. 
As he sat in his living room on the couch, he felt himself harden in his sweats he wore before changing into his work attire. He had actually called in to take the night off since he had to be well rested for his date tomorrow. This hand had touched you, touched your skin.  He was sure it would feel magnificent on his cock too.  
-x-x-x- 
Tomorrow didn’t come fast enough and Changkyun was bounding out of bed at the ass crack of dawn to figure out what he was going to wear.  How would he style his hair? Would he fill all his ear piercings or change the stud in his eyebrow to a spike? Which shoes would he wear: sneakers, heeled boots, sandals? He couldn’t waste another second in bed, he had far too much to plan for the day to worry about sleeping any more. 
He dove for his phone the moment he heard the specific notification he set for you. He talked to you a bit and you both decided on a time to meet up.  Meeting up at noon for lunch and then he’d take you to a movie and then he’d walk around with you window shopping, talking about the movie you both saw and then he’d take you for dinner.  That’s what he wanted to happen.  
He showed up at the meeting place half an hour early.  Wearing a black, white spotted button up tucked into a pair of black jeans with a thin, white belt around his waist, he adjusted the buttons at the cuffs of his sleeves.  A simple, thin silver chain to show off his neck as his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show off his collar bones.  The heels of his shoes clacked just enough on pavement or tile to let people know he was coming.  
“Changkyun!” He heard from behind him.  He raised himself off the bench had had been sitting cross-legged on, staring at his phone and debating on texting you.  He quickly spotted you waving to him from among the crowd of people on the hunt for lunch before their work break ends. 
His mouth nearly dropped when he saw you.  Running up to him with the cutest, apparel on. 
A summer dress of pale pink with small white dots that wrapped around your chest and fell loosely at the skirt to hit your thighs.  The sleeves off shoulder and sheer all the way down your arm until it wrapped around your wrist in sheere frills.  Black, thin straps to keep it all up. A pair of white sandals that wrapped around your foot and ankle with the smallest heel to keep you from twisting your ankle.  Hair done in two little buns on either side of your head, but still kept some down with a black, stretchy choker around your neck. 
The pink, circular satchel at your waist that hooked over your shoulder probably contained your phone, wallet and the pink gloss that covered your lips as you came to stop in front of him.  You were like a flower as he gazed at you.  You quickly lifted your wrist to check the thin watch you wore, making sure you weren’t late.  You weren’t. 
“I hope you weren’t waiting here too long for me,” you giggled and he felt his heart try to burst from his chest. He shook off his stupor the best he could in front of you before he smiled and quickly denied it.  
“I haven’t been here long,” he assured. You made a small jest about the both of you wearing something with small polka dots on it and he felt like he was going to fall to his knees at your noticing his attire and complimenting it.  You were far too precious. 
Throughout the day, he found out that you weren’t only exceptionally kind, but you were probably the biggest pushover he’s ever met.  You’d follow after him like a little lost duckling and whatever he recommended doing, wherever he wanted to go, you were quick to agree and comply.  With your ease of compliance, he was able to mentally go through the check list of plans he had set with little to no difficulty.  
It was miraculous how easily you obeyed him. 
Changkyun made note of everything your eyes lingered on, everything your fingers brushed, everything you expressed just the slightest interest in- he would remember.  Changkyun wanted to spoil you, wanted to give you everything you desired- everything you deserved. You were an angel walking, cursed upon the earth and nothing anyone could say would change his mind about it. 
The entire time you were out with Changkyun that day, you were smiling at him as he hung onto every one of your words.  Every interest, every detail, every idea or opinion you had- he grabbed it and held it deep inside his chest. 
It was coming close to around ten that night when he was finally getting around to dropping you back home, as he could see the exhaustion in your eyes and the slowness in your steps. He had half a mind to just drive you back to his home, but he couldn’t- not yet. 
He walked you to your door as he bid you a final goodnight and as you unlocked your door and pushed it open just a crack, you turned back to him and smiled.  He froze when he felt your fingers on his cheek before you stood to your toes and kissed his cheek.  You rushed inside before he could say anything and before you could regret it. 
The blond sat dazed and only managed to drive a block away before he pulled into a parking lot of a closed, daytime store.  His cheeks were flushed, his skin burned and his breath was staggered.  He could still feel the feeling of your lips on his cheek and that shiver of delight attacked his spine and spread until he was finishing himself off in the front seat of his car- the sound of your name on his lips over and over again as his fingers brushed his cheek trying to feel the essence of you in his skin. 
-x-x-x-
Changkyun had the privilege of taking you out on two more dates over the course of the last two weeks (along with his library trips to visit you) and it was today, when he once again frequented the library- where he noticed you weren’t in your usual high spirits.  He pulled you aside on your break and into a back corner library table as he made you spill your guts on what could be plaguing your mind.  
It took all of his will power to not scream when you told him you had been being harassed by some library guest who always comes in.  He always wants the same book renewed over and over and he always tried to pry your number out of you.  Even after clearly telling him no and explaining to you that you were traveling among the silver lining of a relationship with Changkyun- he was persistent.  It came to the point you were looking over your shoulder and even jogging to and from work. 
“So, he’s stalking you?” Changkyun clarified, as you nodded weakly.  He grit his teeth, his jaw tightening.  Didn’t other people know that his woman was off limits, especially when it came to following you around? He kept you under his watchful eye, but these men were after something far worse and in his sick, demented mind- they were the offender and they were a disease.  
Changkyun reached across the table and gently held your hand, trying to convey that he knew that you were scared and that he’d do anything to keep you safe.  He could see the tears glisten around your eyes and a taboo sense of arousal shot in his stomach at seeing your so utterly weak and vulnerable.  
He spent the remainder of the time with you on your break as he consoled and shushed you as he promised that he’d stay until you got off and when you did, he’d take you home.  You were quick to agree.  
That afternoon you rushed to Changkyun’s side and were discreet to point out the man who was hanging outside the library entrance with his nose in his phone.  According to you, that was the perpetrator and source of your fear.  You clung to Changkyun as he gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders and held you to his chest, walking out with you. 
When he dropped you off and kissed the top of your head as he sent you inside, the gentle eyes he had been gazing at you with disappeared as you shut the door and he heard it harshly lock.  
Turning around and stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, he waltzed back towards his car, but never got into it.  His dark shirt allowed him to dip below the hood of his car as he started walking around in the shadows the street lights created.  He stood behind a post as he watched the figure move from the side of the building to the front porch where he crouched below the windows.  
You had pulled the curtains and shut the blinds just as he had reminded you to as he was quick to walk up behind the stalker and hook his arm under the man’s chin.  The gasp that was pulled from the man was cut off as Changkyun’s arm tightened around his neck and he started to quickly drag the man backward and away from your doorstep. 
The blond shoved the man into the backseat of his car, slamming the door as he quickly rushed to get into the driver's seat.  Not bothering with his seatbelt, he started the car with tangible rage and started off.  
“What the fuck, man!” The man from his backseat scowled as Changkyun only reached into his center console and pulled out a small, black handheld device, pressing the button on the side of it as it zapped.  A stungun.  The man in the back hissed as he instinctively shut up. 
Changkyun’s aggressive driving made the man in the backseat fall back and forth along the seats before he finally gripped the passenger chair to steady himself.  Changkyun drove and drove until he was well outside of city limits before he stopped and parked his car. He peered up into the rear-view mirror, seeing the man behind him look around anxiously.  
“Get out,” the blond ordered as he stepped out of his car.  The man didn’t move, too shocked to process his words and was then yanked out by his shirt clad shoulder when he didn’t listen quick enough for Changkyun’s liking. The club worker threw the man on the ground as he rolled to his back just quick enough for Changkyun to stand over him.  His feet on either side of his hips, a glimmer in his eyes that was menacing to witness- even in the darkness of night. 
The man on the ground shuddered as he weakly tried to crawl backward on his elbows.  His heels kicked and dug into the ground, threatening to pull his shoe off, as he tried to get away from the look in the blond’s eyes.  
Changkyun’s foot came to the center of the man’s chest as he stomped, pushing him flat onto the ground.  He knelt, coming closer to him as he gripped the collar of his shirt.  Changkyun eyed him around- he certainly wasn’t a looker that's for damn sure.  
“You really thought you had a chance?” He asked lowly, almost in a growl.  “I’ll offer you a bit of last moment advice for perhaps your next life,” he got closer to the man’s ear, before telling him something.  “Stay away from things that don’t belong to you,” he seethed.  
Over the course of the next few days, Changkyun was delighted to see you smiling again when you told him that the man who had been stalking you seemed to finally leave you alone. 
He made sure that a week later when he saw missing person posters out in the streets, your eyes stayed off of them.
-x-x-x-
After a month of dates, library visits, phone calls and good morning and good night texts, Changkyun was finally- finally- able to call you his girlfriend. He was currently out with you at some cafe where you wanted to stop and get something to drink and he decided to walk in and sit down with you for a while. 
You were on your phone, tapping away before placing it down and repeating.  You were obviously talking with someone on the other end of your text thread, which already ground his gears, but the twisted brow on your face made him more curious than not. Someone was upsetting you and he already knew how to deal with someone who upset you. 
“Hey,” he called, gaining your attention. You looked at him, placing your phone back down.  “Who’re you talking to, Sweetness?” 
“Oh, just to Halie,” you told him. The name of your ‘best friend’ making his skin itch.  That fake fraud of a friend couldn’t even leave you alone while you were out with him? The audacity of the woman made him jittery. His knee began to bounce as he pressed further. 
“Are you two fighting? You look annoyed.” 
You sighed, solidifying that she was indeed bothering you. “She’s mad that I’m out on a date,” you grumbled.  Changkyun cocked his head. 
“Excuse me?” His resentment slipped out just a small fraction as he wanted to know immediately what this witch was putting into your precious little head.  “She’s mad at you for what?” 
You groaned again, placing your elbow on the table and your chin in your palm, you huffed.  “I think she’s just upset that I have a boyfriend before she does since she knows more people.” The tone in your voice made your annoyance apparent to Changkyun who had spent the last month of his life learning every little quirk in your day to day life- including your vocal tone. “She’s got a whole list of friends and while I have just enough to count on one hand, she's mad about my relationship.” 
Changkyun watched you toil the situation around in your head, trying to justify her words and actions, but he couldn’t let you do that.  This was a prime opportunity.  The perfect time to finally get that wench out of the picture and away from you. 
He reached across the table where he sat in front of you, careful not to knock into your drink. 
“Darling,” he cooed, gaining your teary, stress filled eyes, “maybe you shouldn’t be talking to her.” He watched your brow quirk and turn inwards at his suggestion.  He readjusted his grip on your hand, holding it tightly. “If she’s so angry about something like us, then maybe you should go on a little break at least.” 
“But-”
“I know she’s your friend,” he fought back before you could try and save Halie’s snake skin, “but every time you talk about her with me, it’s all things that stress you out or things she’s done that make you uncomfortable.”  He vividly remembers the club night of her birthday.  “Pressuring you into clubbing, then not paying attention to you at all even though you weren’t enjoying yourself.  Never talking to you unless she needs something or someone to bother.  Now, she’s angry because you’re happy with me? She’s just using you, Sweetheart.” 
“I know she seems bad, but-” 
“Y/n,” he breathed in a small, soft scolding tone.  “You can’t keep defending her and giving her what she wants. She has to learn, one way or the other.”  He watched your lips turn into a pout as he ran his thumb over your knuckles and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it.  “I just want the best for you, you know that.” 
He bit back a victorious smirk when you told him that you’d take his suggestion and advice to heart and think about it.  A little more nudging and you’d drop Halie like a hat. He just had to wait until she brought something else up again that put a target on her back.  
It didn’t take but three days for that to occur.  
You were home, off on a Sunday, just sitting in your home, on the phone with Changkyun while he just woke up from resting since he had work at Fantasia Dyed that evening.  He had some private show booked up so he couldn’t afford to flake out either.  He needed the cash for his personal project he always teased, and this coming party was sure to deliver.  
You both were chatting happily until you were cut shut but someone pounding on your door.  You told Changkyun to hold on a moment as you set your phone down on the arm of your couch and went to the door.  Changkyun on the other hand went and immediately opened the camera footage of your front door he had from that camera in your bush.  
He growled and jumped out of bed when he saw the back of Halie in the frame.  Her arms were crossed and her leg was bouncing as she slouched.  When you opened the door, her crossed arms flared out and she was clearly shouting at you from the hiking of her shoulders and the fact that he could hear her obnoxious voice through the call line. 
He jumped out of bed.  Nothing but sweats on as he threw on a jacket, leaving his chest naked before he was out of his penthouse, racing down the stairs and in his car on the way to your home.  He kept the call live- as much as he didn’t want to hear her voice- so he could hear the venom she spat at you as he worked her way inside. Stomping around and screaming like the bitch she was.  
When he showed up to your home and jumped out of the car, he finally hung the call up as he stormed inside, knowing the door was unlocked from Halie’s tempertatrum.  When he came in, he saw you against the wall with your ‘best friend’ not a foot away from you still screaming at you like you were deaf. 
He worked his way over before he was grabbing Halie’s shoulder, shoving her away and placing himself in front of you, walking back into your space until he felt your hands push on his shoulders.  He glared at the party animal blonde in front of him.  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He seethed as she seemed taken aback by his language towards her- a lady. 
“Excuse me?” She spat. 
“I suggest you leave, or else I’ll make you leave.”
“You can’t make me do anything. This isn’t your home either. I’m just talking to, Y/n.” Changkyun stepped away from you, turning the woman around by her shoulders and started pushing her.  
“Yeah? And you’re done now. Get out.” He told her, shoving her out the doorway once he worked her through the front room.  Before she could fight back, he got close to her ear and told her one more thing before shutting the door in her face and locking.  “Stay away, or I’ll make you.” The look in his eyes, the crazed dangerous gleam, made his threat very, very real. 
When he turned back around, he saw you on the ground, curled up as you cried.  He rushed to your side, rubbing your back and trying to get you to lift your head to look at him.  He cooed when he saw your swollen eyes and fat tears rolling down your cheeks.  
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” he shushed as you just wordlessly nodded with choked hiccups and sputters.  You were seriously an ugly crier, but what could you do? Your best friend broke your heart.  
Changkyun shifted to hold you to his bare, jacket clad chest as you cried and he shushed you.  
“Don’t worry. You don’t need anyone else. I’ll always be here.” He promised.  
-x-x-x-
All it took was one more month, and everything was finally falling into place for Changkyun. Halie had officially left your side, with one or two more scraps between him and her before she finally called it quits.  And with the queen bee of your circle gone, the rest quickly fell apart and you were left with no one but Changkyun- as you should be.  
He was in his extra bedroom, setting up his project more when his phone rang. He jumped to it, knowing it was you calling after you got done with your shift at the library. He had told you to call him when you had the chance, since he wanted you to come somewhere tonight. 
“Hello, darling,” he purred into the phone, hearing you slightly chuckle on the other line.  “Did work go well? No annoyances?” He asked and he knew that you’d tell him about the computers or the receipt machine or the squeaky wheel on the return cart; but you never knew that he really meant to know if you were being bothered by any other man again.  “Well, if your evening is cleared up, why not swing on by Fantasia tonight?” 
He heard you pause on the other side of the phone call as he was walking out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. It was almost perfect.  
“I’m not sure,” you drawled.  
“I’m working the floor tonight, bar-tending for staff out sick. You can sit at the bar with me.” Your hesitation was loud and clear for him as he continued.  “I’d really appreciate the company, but if you’d rather not-” he quickly heard you try and reconcile and save the conversation but agreeing to his proposal.  You were a sucker for guilt trips. “Really?” He asked in faux concern as he grinned, throwing himself back across the length of his couch. 
“Yeah. I’ll come, just promise that you’ll stay at the bar.” 
“I’ll do my best. If I have to leave, just hide in the bathroom until I’m back,” ‘so that you won’t be in contact with anyone other than me’, he added silently in his head. You agreed and he said a quick goodbye before he hung up the call.  He sat up and peered down his hall, picturing the door of his extra room.  Soon, you’d be with him always. 
It was an hour after his shift started and he had just served yet another waiting patron when he felt his phone buzz in the back pocket of his pants.  He wore a mesh shirt at the bar that showed off his torso. His tattoo in the middle of his back was on display when he turned around. His eyebrow piercing was a black ring this evening and he wore silver hoops in his earlobes. His knee high, buckle punk boots lifting him three inches higher into the air. 
‘I’m here, where do I go?’ Your text read with a nervous emoji beside it.  He told you the location of the mini side stage bar and soon your head popped out from among the mass of alcohol driver party goers.  As you got to the bar and slid into a stool in front of him, he leaned on the counter and whistled at you. 
“Well, look who dressed up for me tonight?” He asked, a purr in his voice as your cheeks flushed.  He recognized this get up, it was a piece he picked out for you one night. It wasn’t something he thought you’d ever wear out, since you were rather reserved, but he thought you deserved it anyway. 
It wasn’t anything fancy, but even a simple, black cocktail dress with lace running up the sides of it and looping around your neck and back looked good when placed on someone as breathtaking as yourself to Changkyun’s eyes. He could faintly hear you clicking your heels together underneath you as they were hooked on the metal foot ring of the stool. The bracelet and earrings were a nice touch. 
“I thought it was appropriate since you bought it for me,” you muttered, unable to look at him in the eyes.  He chuckled since it wasn’t hard to guess why. His entire chest was on display to see with only lines of fabric separating his entire torso from being nude.  He halfway wished he had gotten his nipples pierced when he was on the fence about it months ago just to see how you’d react to that.
He stood back up and turned his back and he could feel your eyes scan the tattoo that rested between his shoulders. Large and taking up a good portion of real estate on his skin. He smirked as he felt you stare, a shiver wracking up his spine just as it always did with you.  When he turned around, he offered you a glass of water he had so neatly prepared for you. 
“I know you don’t drink, sweetheart,” he told you as you graciously thanked him for the drink.  Throughout the course of his shift, he was tending to people left and right.  His charisma between patrons and ways of addressing person to person just by acknowledging how they seemed to looked amazed you.  
You could never hope to be the people person he is. He was bold enough to get on stage, strip and get behind closed doors for his way of life.  He was fearless in your eyes and you admired him for it.  He had told you that he would stop sleeping around for money since he was in a relationship with you now, but you just told him it was alright.  
You trusted him, and although the idea of him sleeping around did grind under your skin like ice and salt, you knew that was his job. He worked in this industry- the sex industry- so that was the end of it.  He had started to dwindle down in client numbers though, never wanting to have the sex he was getting paid for last too long. 
The clock struck midnight and Changkyun turned back to you the moment he had an opening to.  He leaned over the counter and towards you again, just so he could talk to you clearly over the loud bass and whistling from the stage work. 
“What do you say I make a drink for you?” He offered. You looked at your half empty glass of water he had refilled at least three times now.  “Just one, I promise. It’ll be on me too. I just want my girlfriend to taste some of my work since I don’t get to work the bar often.” 
“Well, when you say it like that,” you whined as he just chuckled and stood up, turning his back and started mixing.  It was three minutes later when he was sliding a cocktail glass gently towards you. Inside sat a liquid of pink that resembled the color of pink lemonade, but you knew whatever was inside that wasn’t lemonade. “Voilà,” he told you. “That’s something new I’m trying out. You get to be the first to try it.” 
His smile looked innocent enough to your eyes and as you started taking sips of it with a smile and a nod; however, you missed a sinister glint in his eyes.  You complimented him on it and found yourself sipping on the drink, making it last until well after one since you didn’t want to have him make another. It was half after when Changkyun noticed you starting to sway in your stool seat. 
He placed the towel he had in his hands on the bar before he rounded the bar to your side.  
“Darling, come with me. You look like you’re about to pass out,” he chuckled. You couldn’t get your mouth to move or your voice to work as your mind was just as fuzzy as your eyesight.  Were you really that much of a light weight? He took you back into one of his private rooms before he placed you on the bed. He sat beside you, brushing your hair from your face and running his fingers around your face, skin and shoulders down your arm.  “Sleep. I'll come get you later,” he told you softly- the totally opposite tone of the smirk on his face. 
You were in and out of it for the duration of Changkyun picking you up from the bed you vaguely remember placing you on.  He picked you up and took you out of the room. The bass of the club had stopped and you only heard him speaking briefly with coworkers before he loaded you into his car. 
It felt like he was taking you home as he removed you from the car again and heard the jingles of keys before a door was opened.  You only remembered being placed in a bed before you felt him kiss your forehead and you were out for good. 
You groaned as you were finally waking up. Your head hurt and you felt like your throat had sandpaper in it.  You coughed lightly as you reached your hand up to rub your throat, but something was around your neck. 
Feeling around, it felt like a collar or something. It was thick and leather, a small loop in the front of it. You also thought you felt tags near the loop that jangled.  Groaning and moving among the mattress you realized that it was pitch black in the room.  You were sure your eyes were open, but you couldn’t see a thing.  
Sitting up, you felt around your body.  Your cocktail dress wasn’t on you instead it felt like a nightgown was. Did you own nightgowns? IT feel off your shoulders to wrap around your chest and biceps with frills as it bunched around your thighs on the mattress. 
Your head pounded as you rubbed your eyes.  You moved to try and crawl from the bed when you felt something tug on your ankle. Feeling around, whatever was on your ankle was thick, cold and hard.  At first you thought it was some anklet, but then you felt something protrude from the cold metal. 
Pulling and tracing your fingers around it, you started to panic.  It felt like a chain. 
You got off the bed you were convinced wasn’t yours as you walked around like some cheap, budget-movie zombie in the dark room.  You found a dresser first. Feeling around, you felt the knobs of the four drawers and on top it had what felt like boxes. Reaching further, you found the dresser had a mirror attached to the back of it.  
Moving around in the opposite direction, you reached a closet door. Pull it open, you feel all sorts of soft fabric. Silks, satin, fur, cotton, linen- you felt all sorts of clothing. 
You looked around the dark room in panic before you trusted your voice.  
“Changkyun,” you called softly. You were going to call him again, but stopped short as you stepped on the cold chain that was around your foot. You screamed as you fell backward and before long, you heard someone padding up to the room and the door swung open. 
You scrambled back, covering your face with your arms as you soon felt the foot of the bed push against your back, keeping you from going back any further.  
“Sweetness, are you awake already?” Your arms that were up slowly lowered as you looked to the open doorway.  It was so bright outside of the dark room, you had to squint from the stark contrast.  Whoever was in the doorway sounded just like Changkyun, but- it couldn’t be. He walked closer to you. “Darling, can you talk?” His hand came to your throat, touching it with the pad of his fingers above the collar around your neck. “Are you thirsty? It has been half a day.” 
You were speechless as Changkyun stood up from in front of you before he walked out of the room. You moved to your knees and looked around. The dresser and closet you found were indeed what you thought.  
The bed was a canopy bed. A white frame with pink fabric hanging from it. The covers were red and white with a plethora of pillows at the head of the mattress.  There was a rack of four wood dowels by the bedroom door, and three of them a different kind of leash, and the fourth had a pair of handcuffs. 
The one window in the room was covered with black out curtains- you couldn’t tell if it was daytime or not outside right now.
Looking down now that you had the light from outside the room, you indeed did have a shackled ankle. You began to pull at it, the cold metal yanking around your skin- pinching and shafting it painfully. You hissed as your yanking was stopped by Changkyun shouting. 
“Don’t pull on that!” He cried, dropping to your side to pull your hands from your shackle. “I need to put felt and fur on it before you can move around in it safely. It’ll ruin your skin, but bear with it for now.” 
“Changkyun, what?” You squeaked.  He smiled, but it was twisted in some sort of menacing light. Maybe it was the light from behind him into the dark room that made him look sinister.  You felt yourself begin to tremble. 
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he told you, patting your head and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Changkyun will take care of everything. I told you to remember?” He caressed your hair, tracing his finger down your face and under your chin. He then moved to hook his finger through the hoop in your collar.  “I told you, you don’t need anyone else. I’m all that you need. You are the princess, and this is your tower.” He flicked at the tags on your collar, one labeled ‘Princess’ and the other engraved with his initials. 
He then reached to his side to the discarded glass of water he went to get for you earlier for your throat.  He gently gripped around your neck and used the back of his hand to tilt your chin up. 
The mixing of emotions in your eyes made him shiver and when you blinked out a small tear he gently moved to place his lips over it. The salty taste made him groan as he leaned back and kissed your nose to see your eyes glossy. He smiled at you as he brought the glass to your lips. 
“Drink up, Princess.” 
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a/n: i’ve never ever written a yandere fic before in my life, and as my first try- i rly dont think i did all that bad LOL. Let me know what you think bc it’s very rare I post Monsta X fic content and I need to know if you guys are still into it ;n; (especially with Wonho’s debut days away and a fic for him in progress LOL) 
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