#she still has to approve this one but i think this one's a win
What we need is a few good taters
(Get it here)
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Hello lovelies! I hope everyone is well! This little fic is for the amazingly talented @buckyownsmylife 2k/Birthday Challenge! Which the theme for it was breeding kink. Which how could I not participate in that? Breeding kink just happens to be one of the biggest kinks I have(and i don’t even want kids, go figure) So I looked through my Masterlist and realized I didn’t have a breeding kink fic with Steve. Well, I can’t say that anymore!
Thank you for hosting this challenge you lovely, beautiful human! And congrats on the 2k!! You deserve that and so much more! I hope everyone enjoys!
Rating: Explicit (duh, it’s a breeding kink fic)
Warnings: breeding kink(again, duh), Professor!Steve(I feel like he’s a warning all by himself, language, age gap, unprotected sex(I mean, it’s kind of implied but I’ll put the warning anyway)
“How long do we have to stay at this thing?”
You help can’t but roll your eyes at your husband of 4 months. “I told you I’m not sure. It’s my niece’s 1st birthday party. You could’ve stayed home you know.”
Steve pulls up to your sister’s house and parks among the other vehicles in the front yard. “Yeah and give them even more reasons to hate me? No thanks.”
See, Steve wasn’t your family’s favorite person. It all has to do with the fact that he’s 10 years older than you and how you guys met, which was during your freshman year of college. You were the innocent student and he was your history professor.
The attraction was instant and very mutual between you two. But dating students at this particular university was frowned upon and Steve could have lost his job. So, you admired each other from afar….that is until the semester was over. You went to visit him in his office after your last class and he eagerly bent you over his desk and ruined you for any other future man you may have.
Well, that was 6 years ago now. Your family of course didn’t approve and thought he was just taking advantage of a young, naive student. Your mom was the first to come around when she noticed a change in your demeanor and how happy he made you. She talked some sense into your dad and he eventually backed off as well.
It took until Steve put a ring on your finger for your sister to accept him. Although you know her and her friends still judged you two. You could tell by the looks you guys always got whenever around them. You learned to not let it bother you. Steve was amazing. He was attentive, caring, and he loved you with everything he had. The only flaw he had was that he didn’t want kids.
It almost made you consider not marrying him. You had always wanted kids. But, in the end you realized you wanted Steve for the rest of your life more than a baby. But he did adopt a kitten with you. So it’s a win, win.
He gets out of the car and grabs the gift out of the trunk. You had gotten her an outfit that says ‘My aunt is cooler than your aunt’ and various toys that she would enjoy. Plus, being the book editor you were, you couldn’t not get her a book. So, you got her the very first Harry Potter book. When Steve saw you wrapping it with a questioning look, you told him it was never too early to start a child’s transition into being a Potterhead.
You skipped excitedly next to Steve as you made your way to the front door. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm. “You excited or something, sweetheart?”
After ringing the doorbell, you turn towards him. “Of course I am! I love my little niece!”
Truth was, you knew you were never going to have a baby of your own. So you poured all of your love and joy for a baby into your niece.
You’re pulled from your thoughts when your brother-in-law, Matt, answers the door.
“Mr. and Mrs. Rogers! Glad you made it! Come on in!” He ushers you 2 inside, helping you both hang your coats up in the hall closet. He then points to the obvious gift table. “You can just set that down there, Steve. And if you’d like, me and a bunch of the other husbands are downstairs in the basement watching the game. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
Steve looks at you, silently asking for permission. You give him a quick pecking the lips. “Go have fun. Just make sure to come back up for food and presents.”
As Steve heads downstairs with Matt, you can’t help but take in all the decorations. Little Miss Lindsey just happens to currently be obsessed with The Little Mermaid. So of course the theme is under the sea. Your sister really went all out. Streamers, balloons, and even mermaid figurines were everywhere. There’s even mermaid confetti on the tables.
You head in search of your sister and the birthday girl, one of which you find in the kitchen. “Hey sis! Need any help?”
Your sister, Rachel, turns from the hot dog sauce she’s stirring on the stove and gives you a big hug. “Oh, thank god you’re here! Can you grab the vegetable tray and potato salad out of the fridge and put them on that table over there?”
“Sure! Where’s Linds?” You ask as you grab the requested items out of the fridge.
Your sister returns to the sauce on the stove. “She’s still napping. I should be getting her up soon. Where’s Steve? He stay home? I know this isn’t really his thing.”
You take the plastic wrap off the potato salad and sit it amongst the smorgasbord of other food on the table. “Of course he’s here. He’s down in the basement with the other men.”
You sister lets out a sigh. “Yeah, I told Matt they could only watch until everybody got here. Ah, shit. I think I hear Lindsey crying.”
“I’ll get her!” Quickly jumping at the chance to see her.
“You sure? That would be great! The outfit I want her to wear is on the changing table. And can you do her hair up in the bow, too?”
“You got it!” You make your way down the hall towards Lindsey’s room, her crying getting louder. You open the door and see her sitting up in her crib. Her crying quiets the moment she sees you. She gets a big ole smile on her face and reaches out for you. “Hi, sweet girl! How is the birthday girl today?” You pick her up and give her a big hug. “How about we get you changed into your party outfit?” She just coos back at you in response.
You push her outfit aside and lay her down on the changing table. Quickly realizing she’s wet, you give her a fresh diaper. She attempts to ‘help’ as you try to change her into her party outfit. Which after it’s on her, she looks like a little mermaid. You quickly brush her hair and pull as much of it as you can into a ponytail on the top of her head and add the matching bow. You stand back a little from her and clap your hands. “What a pretty girl! Are you ready to join your party?” You pick her up and turn around to head out of the room. You’re surprised to see your husband standing in the doorway.
“Hey, I thought you were watching the game?” He shrugs his shoulders and walks towards you two. “I missed you.” He tickles Lindsey’s side, causing her to giggle. “Happy Birthday, little one.” You can’t help but feel your heart warm. That always happens anytime your husband interacts with a baby.
“I was just helping Rachel out by getting her ready. She seemed a little frazzled in the kitchen.” You turn your attention back to Lindsey. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s go join your mommy in the kitchen!”
The next hour goes by in a blur. You weren’t really paying attention to anyone else. All of yours on Lindsey. The only food she seemed to want was what was on your plate. You didn’t mind sharing. Then she got to ‘smash’ her cake. Which for Lindsey it meant taking delicate little bites from said cake, mostly of the icing. She did still manage to get it all down the front of her though. But that’s okay, Rachel of course had a back up outfit ready.
You had just polished off your hot dog when Rachel walked back into the room with a now clean Lindsey. Steve grabbed yours and his plates to go dispose of.
Rachel sat on the floor with Lindsey who immediately started crawling towards you. “I think you’re gonna have to join us, sis.”
You can tell it’s hurting Rachel’s feelings a little that Lindsey is so attached to you today. Nevertheless, you join them on the floor, placing Lindsey in your lap. “Ready to open presents, sweet girl?”
Rachel turns to Matt. “Honey, could you start handing out the presents please?”
He nods and goes to grab the first of many presents. He sits it down in front of Lindsey who immediately goes for the tissue paper. She doesn’t even seem to care about the present in the bag. You laugh and try to get her attention on the gift inside.
You look up and see everyone laughing at the birthday girl who only wants the tissue paper. You notice Steve towards the back of the crowd, only he’s not laughing. He’s giving you a look. You’ve seen that look before. It instantly sends a shiver down your spine and makes your panties wet. He wants you.
You try to give him a stern look. He shouldn’t be looking at you like that in the middle of your niece’s party. He puts his hands up in surrender.
After taking almost 2 hours to open the rest of the gifts, Lindsey was a sleepy girl. You were sitting on the couch with Lindsey cuddled up into your chest. You were gently rocking her back and forth. You look over at your sister who was cleaning up the mess from the presents.
“I can go put her down for a nap, Rach. I don’t mind.”
“Thanks, sis. You seem to be her favorite person today so she’d probably scream if I tried to do it. Matt! Could you get a bottle ready for Lindsey so my sister can put her down for her nap?”
A few minutes later he comes out with the bottle and hands it to you.
You stand up and look over at Steve. “I shouldn’t be too long. Did you want to head out of here after I put her down? I know you still have those papers to grade.”
He nods. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. Thanks, sweetheart.”
You squeeze his bicep as you pass by him. “Of course not. Like I said, this shouldn’t take too long.” You glance at Lindsey and notice she’s having trouble keeping her eyes open.
Just like you predicted, it only took Lindsey about 15 minutes to fall asleep. You take one last glance at her, your heart tugging a little, knowing you’ll never have one of your own.
You quietly close the door and don’t even take 2 steps before the door across the hall opens to reveal Steve. You look at him in confusion. “Babe? Why are you in the laundry room?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he grabs your arm and pulls you into the room with him. He makes sure to shut the door behind him.
“Steve, what are you doing? I thought we were leaving?”
He pushes you to the front of the washing machine and presses himself up against you, immediately making you feel how hard he is. “Need you, baby.” He reaches around and starts undoing your jeans.
You start pushing his hands away and try to turn around. His hold on your waist tightens, stopping you.
“Steve, we are not doing this here. You can wait until we get home.”
You are suddenly pushed until your front is resting on the top of the washing machine, Steve covering his body with yours. He lets out a low growl in your ear. “This” he presses his bulge more firmly against your ass “is your fault. So, you’re going to help me with it.”
You turn your head to the side as he pushes your jeans over the curve of your ass. “Me? What the fuck did I do? I haven’t even really talked to you today. Been with Lindsey all day.”
He fastens his pace in removing his own jeans, only lowering them enough to free his aching cock. He lands a smack to your panty covered ass. “Exactly. Made me so hard watching you with the baby. Made me think what it’d be like if we had one. What you’d look like swelled with my kid. Knew I had to have you.”
You managed to push him back far enough to stand up straight and turn around to face him. “Steve, I’m not going to let you fuck me in my sister’s laundry room.” He launches at you, trapping your body between his and the washing machine. “It’s cute that you think you’re in charge. Now, I’m going to fuck a baby into you. And I can either do that here or I’ll take you out in the living room where everyone is and bend you over there.”
Fuck. These panties are officially fucked. Still, you have questions. “I thought you didn’t want kids, Steve? Plus I’m on the pill.”
His face turns soft for a second. He cups your cheek in his left hand. “I didn’t think I did. But seeing you with her today? Now that’s all I want, all I can think about. You with our baby. You’d be the best mother. And you’ll just stop taking your pill. Starting today. We’ll keep trying until it takes. Is this something you’re even still wanting?”
You grab onto his wrist and push your cheek against his palm. “Of course it is.” You turn back around and bend over the washer. You lower your panties to your knees and shake your ass in his direction. “Well? What are you waiting for? Fuck a baby into me, Steve.”
He growls and closes the distance between you. He grabs the base of his cock and rubs the tip through your dripping folds. “Don’t have time to stretch you out first, sweetheart. And I’m really worked up, so this will probably be quick.”
You push back against him, eager to get him inside you already. “Don’t care. Just please, fuck me Professor Rogers.” You knew that’d get him.
“Fuck.” Is the only warning you get before he buries himself in you to the hilt. He just gets his hand over your mouth before your moan escapes your throat.
He only gives you a second to adjust to his size before he starts a bruising pace. After a few thrusts, he removes his hand from your mouth and smacks your ass. He feels you clench around him. “Yeah? You like when your professor fucks you?”
You quickly nod your head. “Yeah. You fuck me so good. Need your cum. Need you to fill me up.”
Steve quickens his pace even more if that’s possible. He moves his left hand off your hip and moves it around you to find your clit. He presses quick circles against it. “Need you to cum first, sweetheart. Need to feel you squeeze me.”
You start pushing back to meet his thrusts. You can feel the coil inside you ready to snap. You just need a little something more.
Steve leans over you and starts pressing kisses up your spine, his pace never faltering. Once he reaches your shoulder, he bites down lightly. He moves his mouth next to your ear. “Come on, sweetheart. Cum for your professor. Then I’ll fill you up nice and full, get you pregnant. Cum for me, Y/N.”
You press your face into the crook of your elbow to muffle your scream as you cum undone on his cock. Your orgasm triggers his. He cums with a quiet shout as he fills you full of his spend, some of it leaking out around him. He gives a few more shallow thrusts before stopping and catching his breath.
He rubs his hands up and down your back. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
You turn your head so you can look at him. “Mmm, i’m great.” You can’t help but let out a little giggle, feeling drunk on sex.
Steve smiles down at you and moves his hand until it’s resting on your lower stomach. “I hope it worked.” He slowly pulls out and watches as his cum starts leaking out of your pussy. He quickly scoops it up and pushes it back inside, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t let any of it go to waste.”
Once he’s sure he’s got it all, he quickly pulls your panties back into place. He stands you up and turns you around to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, thank you for being mine.”
You give him a big smile. “I love you, too. And thank you for picking me.” You bend down to pull up your jeans, Steve mirroring your actions. Once you’re both redressed, you wrap your arms around his neck and press a firm kiss to his lips.
“Now, let’s hurry up and get home. Want you to fill me up again.” You give him a wink and turn to head out the door. “You coming?”
He smirks as he starts following you out. “Oh, I will be.”
Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss @lllols @patzammit @quxxnxfhxll @bluemusickid @wanderinglunarnights
Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo
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I see your Thalia and Percy friendship posts and raise you: Thalia, Percy and Nico are literal fucking besties.
This is gonna be a long one, kids. Buckle up. I’ve had to give some thought on how to ensure their friendship based on everything that’s happened in canon and I think I got it.
Okay, imagine this: Thalia and Percy are hanging out in TTC and are having a lighthearted heart-to-heart. Towards the end of the conversation it goes...
Percy: You think all demigods are this much of a mess or is it a Big Three thing?
Thalia: Definitely a Big Three thing
Percy: We need one more to complete the trio of disaster
Thalia: Like the third member of our band. What would that even look like? I mean, they would need dark hair to join, obviously. That’s a requirement.
Percy: Of course. The eyes would have to be brown or black considering you and I took the blue and green ones.
Thalia: Uh huh. And aesthetic-wise I have the punk covered and you have the skateboarding look... preppy maybe? Ew. No. If we find a preppy Big Three kid then we condemn them.
Percy: Emo? Goth?
Thalia: OH MY GODS! Give me an emo or goth child of Hades to complete our trio PLEASE!
Bianca: Hey guys, what’s up?
Percy: Hey, nothing much. We’re just talking.
Bianca: Okay, bye (:
Thalia: Bye (:
Thalia: ANYWAYS! Percy, we have to find one-
Later on, they forget about the conversation until a few years down the road when Thalia suddenly IMs Percy at like 3 in the morning.
Thalia: Bianca’s little brother
Percy: What? Nico? Is he in a jar again?
Thalia: He’s emo now, right?
Percy: Uh, he might just be depressed-
Thalia: HE IS EMO NOW, PERSEUS! WE NEED HIM!
Percy: I swear on to any god that is listening that I will hunt you down and break your nose. Thalia, he doesn’t like us. You’re a hunter and I... well, don’t worry about why he doesn’t like me.
Thalia: Uh huh and normally that would be fine, but we need him
Percy: We cannot force him to be friends with us
Thalia: Is that a challenge?
Thalia: Challenge accepted, jackass
Percy: Just let me go back to sleep
Thus begins Thalia and Percy’s quest to integrate Nico into the group. Percy is actually friends with Nico so he takes the lead and is kinda nervous bc they’ve had a on-and-off rocky relationship in the past. Thalia hasn’t really interacted with Nico all that much yet so she only knows the bare minimum. Percy decides the best route is being honest upfront but he doesn’t know how to say “I need you to be super close friends with Thalia and move past any residual awkwardness with me in order to fulfill a lifelong dream of having a disaster Big Three trio.”
He tries to suggest Hazel instead, but Thalia says she isn’t emo enough to even consider. So Percy bites the bullet and has this conversation:
Percy: I want to do this ethically
Nico: ...I... are you talking to me? That’s not how you start a conversation.
Percy: We’re still friends, right?
Percy: How do you feel about Thalia?
Nico: Um, neutral, I guess? She isn’t my favorite given she leads the hunt and is the daughter of the guy who murdered my mother.
Percy: Uhh understandable. Outside of that, would you be opposed to being her friend?
Nico: What the actual fuck is happening? I guess not? She’s Jason’s sister, right? I like Jason.
Percy: Yes! Yes, exactly! He - oh my gods. Jason is the preppy one.
Percy: I - THALIA! THALIA! JASON IS THE PREPPY ONE-
Nico: Maybe I wasn’t even embarrassed to be gay. Maybe I was just embarrassed that I liked you.
So, Nico listens to this proposition and is just like “that is the dumbest shit have I ever heard, but for the sake of curiosity on what you two even do together I’m going to agree to this on a trial basis” and thus begins the actual friendship.
Yeah. Nico gets suckered in real fast. Part of it is that he realizes Thalia is actually really cool and willing to work on stuff with him. He’s uncomfortable with the hunters? Well, Thalia is the lieutenant and can make changes in some areas. What bothers him? More visiting time with mortal families? Done. You have to have trained for at least three years to go a quest? Done. Listen, the hating men thing only applies to some of the older ones and we’re working on that. Maybe if you visit more they’ll be more comfortable around boys. Nico slowly warms to them. Never completely tho. Thalia and Reyna are the only hunters he’s ever completely cool with.
Percy on the other hand... bless him. He’s trying so hard to figure out how to make sure Nico’s comfortable.
Annabeth: why are you googling “how to be friends with your ex”? Are we breaking up?
Percy: no, but they don’t have a wikihow article for “how to make sure your ‘friend who had a childhood crush on you for years without you noticing and was forced to admit it after a traumatic outing in which he had to pretend to hate you bc you couldn’t save his sister but actually hated you bc of the feelings he held contempt for due to being raised in the 1930s and also because the 2000s can suck too’ not feel uncomfortable with your friendship” so I had to improvise.
Annabeth: maybe try yahoo
This ends up being Thalia and Nico’s biggest bonding moment at first bc Nico decides he wants to fuck with Percy once he notices him being awkward. It was only fair, right?
Nico: Percy! Don’t do that!
Percy: Do what?
Thalia: Percy, what the Hades? Nico’s gay. What’s wrong with you?
Percy: I’m sorry! What am I doing?!?
Nico: I can’t believe this
Percy: NO I’M SORRY! HOW DO I STOP?!
Thalia: Honestly the audacity is beyond me
Percy: I’m literally about to cry. Just tell me what I’m doing wrong.
Nico: you seriously don’t know? Disgusting behavior. Annabeth is okay with this?
Percy: I don’t KNOW, I’m sorry!
Thalia: you should know better than to wear a shirt that brings out your eyes like that
Percy: I swear I’m gonna kick both of your asses. Don’t stress me out like that ever again. I did not live this long to be played like this-
Nico: Belligerently homophobic
Will is Nico’s self-control. Thalia and Percy are the opposite of that. They try to outdo each other constantly. Thalia can fly? No big deal. Percy can use water to raise himself up into the sky. Nico decides he’s just gonna shadow travel into the sky at night bc technically “the world is one big shadow” at that point. It goes as well as you might think.
They all take turns holding the brain cells of the group. Usually it depends on the area of foolishness.There are times where none of them have braincells tho. This mainly happens when they’re bored and want to try and combine powers to play games. Tag is a big one. Nico shadow travels to try and get away while Thalia uses lightning to keep there from being shadows. If Percy touches one of them with water then he wins.
Thalia and Nico bother Percy/Annabeth on dates and Thalia and Percy bother Nico/Will on dates. It’s become a very serious game to try and crash the others romantic evenings.
Nico and Thalia are nervous around water bc Zeus and Hades are always very clear for other demigods to stay out of their domains. Percy is determined to teach them both how to properly swim. It is chaotic and they all almost die, but DAMNIT Percy taught them freestyle and nobody can take that from him.
Also, Nico is just like “idk guys. Nobody in ancient Greece really did that much of the naked stuff of my dad like they did for Poseidon and Zeus. Sucks for you guys tho.” and Thalia is sitting there like “Oh... oh no, you poor thing. Have you searched your dad on the internet in modern time? He’s either a loud dude with blue-fire hair or a sex symbol. Absolutely no in between.”
Ooh I had that one post about them trying to pin the ‘royalty teasing’ that fits well here.
They all fight over custody with Mrs. O’Leary. It gets emotional. Thalia, as a hunter if Artemis, has a natural link with animals, so she claims that she’s her dog. Nico says she’s not even technically an animal, but a hellhound which is his father’s domain, meaning she is HIS dog. Percy gets very upset bc Daedalus gave her to HIM and YOU CAN’T TAKE MY DOG FROM ME-
Disney movie marathons. That’s it. That’s all you need to know.
Percy claims he’s the oldest. Which, well, technically he is? Only Thalia and Nico aren’t rolling with that. Thalia’s age may have slowed down as a tree, and just bc she biologically stopped aging doesn’t mean those years shouldn’t count. According her birth year she is the oldest. Nico says according to HIS birth year he’s the oldest. They can’t decide who the oldest is officially, but both Thalia and Nico voted that Percy is the youngest, which makes Percy super annoyed (“Neither of you have passed 16 years so I don’t want to hear it”)
Side Note: According to Annabeth, the order is Thalia, Percy, and then Nico, but only Thalia approves of that order.
Nico is determined to get Percy and Thalia to an actual therapist. Like, by gods he will do it.
Nico: It doesn’t have to be Mr. D. I will summon someone for you. There are lots of great therapists who are dead-
Thalia: Get me Freud and I’m in. I want to know wtf this ‘Penis Envy’ he’s talking about is.
Nico: You’re supposed to talk about your problems.
Thalia: My problem is that some random guy has a mighty high opinion of penises to think we all want one.
Percy: Freud’s theories have actually all been pretty much dismissed anyways. He doesn’t hold any real credibility in the psychology community.
Nico: ...how do you know that?
Percy: No! No, it was just something Annabeth said-
Thalia: I can’t believe you’re a nerd
Percy, holding back tears: This is why I need therapy
Nico: Literally half your life is a reason for therapy and yet you choose this moment?
One year they all decide to dress up for Halloween. Thalia turns up as an ear of corn, Nico shows up as guinea pig, and Percy shows up as a pine tree. They all collectively announce they have dressed up as each other.
Another Halloween comes by and they decide to dress up like their dads and impersonate them, which was real fun until Hermes popped up and told them that Zeus was getting offended.
Hunters of Artemis vs. CHB Capture the Flag is really just Nico and Percy trying to beat the shit out of Thalia while she orders literally all of the hunters to forget the flag and instead attack Nico and Percy.
Nico is the sugar-friend of the group. He buys them shit all the time. When Percy fondly points out that Hades does the same thing to Nico he freaks out lol. Thalia immediately prays to Zeus like ‘you can try and buy my affection if you want. I would like the following-’
They get into an argument like.... three years later and Nico loudly proclaims his trial period is OVER and he will not be continuing on this stupid friendship. Percy and Thalia are so pissed off by this that they follow him around for a solid week saying that the trial period ended after the first year and he doesn’t get to not be friends with them. This goes on for weeks. At one point, Thalia threatens to get lawyers involved.
Side note: They all get into arguments A LOT. It is a constant thing, but it hardly ever affects their friendship. Usually they get pissed off for like a day and then the next time they see each other its fine. Common arguments include: the right way to eat tacos, who the best spice girl is, who has the coolest powers, stuff about the hunt, being called out on various things, whether water is wet, and between Percy/Annabeth and Nico/Will who is the cuter couple (and btw it was not Nico and Percy who had that last argument lol. I will leave you in confusion on that one).
Some of the hunters try to criticize Thalia for spending so much time with two boys... some of the hunters are going to have to deal with Percy and Nico roasting them for an hour. Artemis is too tired to stop it.
Nico and Thalia are both good friends with Annabeth, so Percy and Thalia decide they need to be good friends with Will too. It, uh, is an adventure. Will doesn’t know what’s happening, but he does fear for his life when two Big Three kids kidnap him for ‘bonding’ time. Nico has to come rescue him.
Thalia and Nico went to Percy’s graduation wearing “Graduate Squad” shirts with Percy’s face on them. They also brought some for Sally, Paul, and Annabeth who gladly wore them as Percy walked across the stage lol. Poseidon may have also showed up and made himself a matching shirt. Thalia and Nico lost their minds over it.
Every year for Thalia’s birthday, Nico and Percy take her to abandoned buildings so she can just smash the shit out of it. It is a lot of fun for them to just demolish a house together and sometimes it is the only reason Thalia still celebrates her birthday at all.
Thalia and Percy are both groomspeople for Nico’s wedding and they take this VERY seriously. Reyna is technically the best woman, but she doesn’t have the plan anything bc Percy and Thalia are all over that shit. They also both cry when Nico gets married.
Bonus if you like bi-Percy...
Percy: soooo.... yeah. What do you think? Obviously, I love Annabeth and don’t want to break up with her, but I’m not really sure if that means I can’t like boys too?
Thalia: Nah, you can. Sounds like you do. Congrats. I will still slit your throat if you cheat on her with a guy tho.
Percy: You know I wouldn’t. And that’s... not a problem? Nico, that’s okay, right? The boy thing?
Nico: (: no! (: I’m happy you felt comfortable to share this with us (: I wouldn’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me this kind of thing over a silly crush forever ago (: and if you any questions I can always help out (:
Percy: Thanks, Nico! I have to go talk to Annabeth. See you guys later!
Thalia & Nico: Bye!
Thalia: ...you want to let it out?
Nico: F U C K
Thalia: there, there. If it makes you feel better I was thinking... if I didn’t have my oath to Artemis then I would totally ask Reyna out-
Nico: shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut UP-
Jason: The Greeks have a big three trio. Want to make our own?
Hazel: Yes, but we don’t have a Neptune kid.
Jason: .... Frank is a descendant, right?
Hazel: Works for me
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crossed out | b.b
bucky barnes x reader
in which you’re one of the names on bucky’s list
warnings : angst, fluff?, mentions of choking
fic : one shot
a/n : u know i’m a sucker for therapy bucky lol
He should have skipped today’s session.
Cause he’s starting to regret coming when she brings it up.
“You gonna tell me about her?” Cecelia questions, casually flicking through a thick folder labelled James B.B.
But it was never casual.
Bucky knew she was observing his every move, his every tick. And he’d been pretty good at faking through every session until now.
“I thought you were helping me make amends.” He forges an unamused smile, which was second nature now.
“Yes and that’s why I asked you about her.” She looks up from the folder, the smallest smile tugging at her lips.
“It says here that you guys were complicated.” She continues, eyes skimming over a particular page.
Complicated was the last thing he’d use to describe it.
Cause it was the one thing that gave him some clarity, hope that he could be deserving of love again someday.
“We used to date. We broke up.” He gruffs, crossing his arms.
Maybe he should fake a mechanical failure in his arm, reschedule for another time.
“Do you still love her?”
He doesn’t answer but it’s written all over his face and Cecelia can read him like a book.
She turns over his list that she’d assigned him to make, eyes trailing down names until it reaches a hastily crossed out name at the end.
“Why don’t we pick this up next week? I hope you’ll be more comfortable to talk about it then.” She hands him back the small, black notebook.
He hesitantly takes it back, his feet already springing to get out of the room.
Was it just him or was the air running out in this tiny room.
“And, James?” She calls out.
He looks back, slightly winded.
“Remember, sometimes you need to just take a leap of faith, trust your heart.”
He nods solemnly, almost tripping over his legs trying to get to the door.
Hands fumbling over the handle, he’s greeted by a rush of cool air when he finally opens the goddamn door.
He stuffs the notebook in his pocket, taking big strides towards the exit.
It’s the same everyday.
Keep his head down, one sharp left, stop by the nearby cafe if he feels like it.
But today, he takes a right, taking out his flip phone he prefers to the touch screens these days.
Punching in the only number he knows, his stomach’s doing flips.
Don’t pick up, don’t pick up.
“So you do know how to call someone.” Sam picks up after a few rings.
He could almost hear the stupid smirk.
“How are you?” He cringes, the grip on his phone tightening.
It’s a small pause before Sam chuckles, “Y/N’s doing fine. In fact, she just got back from a mission in Prague yesterday.”
Of course, you’d still be going on missions, it was the only thing you knew.
“That’s not why I called.” He huffs, leaning against his car now.
It was an old, beat up Honda that he’d fixed up from the local junkyard.
“Really? Then enlighten me.”
It was Cecelia’s fault for bringing you up. If she hadn’t brought her up, he wouldn’t be here doing this.
“Where is she?” He closes his eyes, wanting the ground to just crack open and swallow him whole.
“Right where you left her.”
He mumbles a hasty goodbye cause he’s not sure he can trust himself to keep his composure any longer.
Getting into the car, he pulls out the notebook, going through the list.
He’d ticked off the list last month, even adding a few more names just to avoid the crossed out name at the end.
He jams the keys in, the car purring to life, before he can change his mind.
The door is taunting him.
He doesn’t know how but it is.
A quick exhale and he raises his hand to knock on it, half hoping you won’t open it.
But you do.
He always loved your eyes cause they held so much life to them.
Like for now, confusion morphing to recognition and rage in an instant.
You’re in bad shape, he can gather from the slight limp and bruises.
It feels like forever before you call his name in disbelief, what he’s longed to hear for so long.
He wishes you’d curse him out, hit him or tell him to go away cause that’s what he deserves.
But you don’t.
Instead, your pretty eyes brim with tears.
“Don’t.” He grits his teeth, unable to meet your eyes.
He always hated to see you cry.
“Then, why’d you leave?” Your voice breaks as months of bottled up heartache pour out.
He had to.
You were the only right thing he’d done in a long long time and he couldn’t mess it up.
“I needed to fix myself before I could trust myself around you.”
He grimaces as he remembers the life draining out of your face, while his hands were wrapped around your neck.
That very night he’d left, requested for therapy and could only hope it would work.
But it didn’t.
There was no fixing anything, he’d realised that waking up from nightmares far too many times.
“You could have picked up the phone.” Your voice barely above a whisper, stinging like a nasty burn.
He almost did, everytime.
But he hated himself too much to allow that.
“I’m sorry.” That’s all he can whisper, fighting the urge to take you in his arms.
“If you’d just let me in, realise that I do understand you.” You’re basically pleading at this point but you don’t care.
“I know you do. But you don’t have to. You deserve a better guy.” He says the same thing when he left like a broken radio.
“There is no better guy for me, Bucky. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?” You limp over closer to him.
You know he’s focused only on your limp, eyes filled with concern as they rake over your wounds.
“Does it hurt?”
The same thing he always used to ask after a mission while tending to your injuries.
“Yea, here.” You pat the left side of your chest, biting down a smile.
He has to fight back one too, but it’s kinda hard.
You meet his eyes, a little too long cause you’ve missed gazing into them every morning.
Maybe this is the leap of faith Cecelia keeps droning on about, he thinks as he leans in, “We should take a look at that, then.”
You sniffle, “I’m still mad at you.”
He laughs, which involuntarily makes you 2% less mad.
“I missed you.” He whispers, his lips inches away from yours.
You don’t have to say it back cause he knows.
He leans in closer, ghosting over your lips, waiting for your approval.
You close the distance, lips crashing into his almost in desperation.
Which you regret almost immediately cause you taste blood.
A split lip and kissing, not so pretty.
He pulls away and you mewl, pulling him back.
“You’re only making your lips worse.” He chuckles, hands slipping into yours.
Instead, he kisses your forehead, trailing all the way to your lips where he pecks them gently.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers again, head leaning on yours.
“I forgave you a long time ago. I was just waiting for you to come back.” You sob, tears springing out again.
He pulls you into his chest, steady hands you’ve craved for so long.
Gently rocking you back and forth, he strokes your hair, fleeting kisses to calm you down.
You’re struggling to keep your legs stable as your eyes grow heavy but you ignore the blatant aches in your body cause you don’t want to leave his embrace.
And he somehow always seems to notice.
“You need to rest.”
You shake your head, holding onto him even tighter.
He knows he won’t win against your stubborn ass so he lifts you up carefully, legs swinging over his arms while you snake your hands around his neck for support.
“Stay.” You mumble as he takes you in the room you two used to share.
And he does.
Boy, was Cecelia in for a ride next session.
a/n : im cringing as i post this🧎🏻♀️🔫🏃🏻♀️jsneyswjausowkaw but supeerr excited for tfatws this friday :)) also i named bucky’s therapist for convenience lol im pretty sure she’s not named in the first ep? i could be wrong tho
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One Foot in the Golden Life
Pairing: rich kid!renjun x caddie!reader
Genre: rich kid AU, university au, romance, slight angst, mature content
Summary: this is the story of a boy who is constantly pushed down by his father, a girl who just wants to not live paycheck to paycheck, and how they met on a golf course.
Warnings/Details: includes mentions of other NCT members, female reader, swearing, inaccurate depiction of golf, acts of sexual harassment towards the reader, mature content (unprotected sex, coming inside, oral [female receiving])
a/n: a big thank you to @insomni-writing for beta reading this ♡ also, if you are a minor, please beware that there is mature content in this fic!
You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to work at the most well-known country club in the state, but really the only thing your job brought you was perpetual cold to your hands and feet, and entangled your simple life with one of the youngest and richest bachelors at your university.
The only place on top of Mt. Carla is the Augusta Country Club, and it is a sight to see by the regular people who gaze up at it from the city below, like mortals looking up into the Gods’ chamber. The first time you went up the mountain for your job interview at the club, you got lost and were almost late. Thankfully, you didn’t crash your car on the winding roads, and got the job as well.
The Augusta Country Club is equipped with the largest and most expensive golf course in the region, but also has Michilin approved restaurants and the finest saunas and gym equipment any CEO could ask for. Those are usually the type of people that have club memberships: CEO’s, congress men and women, top-notch lawyers, and maybe the odd business owner that made it big enough to afford the price tag.
When you took up the job as a caddie, you had an idea of what you were getting yourself into. You’ve only been working for a month, but there are already a few regular golf players that prefer you as their caddie, which in your book is a success considering the type of high profile people that come to relax here.
However, today is different.
You can sense it when Kara and Mina, your coworkers who have been working here for a year longer than you, walk towards you and your friend, Lia, before your shift today. Mina has a small stack of info cards in her hands and they both hold smug smiles on their faces. The info cards have everything a caddie needs to know about who they’ll be working for that shift, and by the looks of it, today’s game will have a good match up.
“I’m going to be Mr. Huang’s son’s caddie. Don’t even fight me on this, you know I’ll win.” Kara states boldly as the two girls stop in front of you, snatching an info card out of Mina’s hand when she holds them up like she’s playing a card game, flashing the photos and names on the cards at you.
“I call dibs on Mr. Lee’s son.” Mina hums, not even bothering to keep up the act that they just want to be good caddies. “You two can have the old men.” She smiles tightly, shoving the other two info cards into Lia’s grasp and turning on her heel to walk away with Kara.
Considering you don’t even know what they’re talking about, you have no right to be mad at them. There is more confusion clouding your mind than anger at their rudeness. However, Lia does not share the same sentiment.
“I’ll shove these info cards up their-” Lia fumes, her volume rising as the sentence went on, and you quickly pulled her out of ear shot, around a corner by the bathrooms. “-stuck up two faced asses!”
“Lia…” You mutter, her wording making you shake your head at how unstable her temper is, “They’ve been working here for a lot longer than we have, just let them have those clients. Either way, what’s it to you?”
“What’s it to me? ___, they’re talking about Lee Jeno and Huang Renjun. I know I told you about them before.” Lia states like she expects you to have those two names tattooed on the front lobe of your brain already.
“I think I remember them…. They go to our University, right?” You try to regurgitate your friend’s rambles from months ago out of your head.
“Yeah, business department.” She sighs dreamily, as if the business department is the sexiest thing on campus. “This might be our only chance to shoot our shot.” You can’t help but grimace a bit.
“It can be your chance to shoot your shot. Leave me out of this.” You randomly grab an info card out of Lia’s hands, turning it around to see Mr. Huang Lijun’s photo staring back at you. You send Lia one last look, walking around her to go change in the dressing rooms.
“Aw, you’re no fun.” You hear her whine, her footsteps echo through the hallway as she comes up behind you. She almost knocks you into the wall from how forcefully she grabs onto your arm and swings it back and forth like you’re two little kids on your way to the playground.
“Maybe we can shoot our shot at the old men?” You and Lia stop walking, turning to face each other for a moment of silence. You blink at each other as if you’re both considering it, before erupting into laughter at the ridiculous thought and continue walking down the hallway.
You and Lia constantly joke around about finding rich sugar daddies at work to pay for your college tuition, but both of you know you’ll never actually commit to the idea fully. Neither of you will admit it, but you both know you don’t have the guts to do something like that.
By the time you, Lia, and your other coworkers change into uniform and gather your supplies for the Lee vs. Huang game, it’s already 10am. The air is crisp and cool, the signs of fall creep along your skin and taint the deep green trees in light oranges and yellows.
Despite the chill, you and your coworkers still wear skirts, long sleeve v-necks, and puffy vests; the only thing keeping your feet warm is a pair of short white socks and tennis shoes. You don’t mind the chill knowing that once the game starts you’ll be moving around enough to get warm. You stop thinking about your cold toes as soon as the door of the country club opens and the Lees and Huangs walk out.
The first time you lay eyes on Huang Renjun, you think your heart might stop.
You know it’s him because he walks close to his father as they make their way to where you’re standing by the golf carts. He has obviously dyed blonde color, his dark roots proof of that; it’s neatly gelled back in an effortless way with the light wind blowing a few of the locks gently as if an angel is personally moving them for him. His white jacket and black pants are slim and look like they cost more than all of your college textbooks this semester. He walks with his head high, his pretty, pink lips set in a straight line, and his almond eyes gentle.
Okay, so... maybe you understand the hype now.
“Good evening, ladies.” Mr. Lee announces, looking at you and your coworkers. You all politely introduce yourself and state who you’ll be caddying for.
Huang Lijun isn’t as tall as his son, but he looks to be more lively than Renjun, even at his age. He has a permanent smile on his lips and you can feel a friendly demeanor radiating from him when you approach.
“Good Morning, sir. Let me take those off of your hands.” You politely grab the bag of clubs from him, feeling shy as his gaze doesn’t leave your face the entire time.
“You’re new here, right? I feel like I would remember you if I saw you before.” You’re surprised when he suddenly pinches your cheek, and he laughs at your shocked face. An unsettled feeling plants itself at the bottom of your stomach at the unwarranted touch.
“I’ve only been working here for a month, sir.”
“I think I’ll be coming around here more often, then.” He winks at you and turns to go sit in the front seat of the golf cart. You can’t help but let the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grow at how the older man looks at you. You definitely misjudged his “friendly” demeanor. Your eyes can’t help but glance at Renjun, who’s standing a few feet away from the whole interaction. He gives you a blank stare before turning and following his father.
In the past few weeks, you had gotten many lustful smiles and lewd gazes at your bare legs, but also many dollars in tips just in one morning by letting those smiles and gazes happen. The need to make ends meet justifies it all, and the cash you earn at the end of every shift only fuels this need.
The ride from the club’s main building to the first hole is short, so you quickly recompose yourself. You still have a job to do— a job you’re being paid lots of money for. You believe in your strong will to put up with whatever antics Mr. Huang pulls for the next few hours. Upon arrival at the first hole, you pull the bag of golf clubs out of the cart and follow in Mr. Huang’s quick footsteps, suddenly feeling sweaty from the exercise you’re getting by carrying these heavy clubs. When your group reaches the first hole, you set the bag down on the ground and press your hand over your face, but Mr. Huang’s voice startles you.
“Woah, there.” You jump and face him. “Those clubs cost more than my car, and unlike my car, they don’t deserve to be on the ground, darling.”
“Yes, sir. I apologize.” You smile shyly and pick up the clubs from the ground, your shoulders already straining to keep them up. ‘They weigh as much as a car,’ you huff.
This is going to be a long game.
“You kids can clean the carts today,” Mina suddenly throws a keychain at Lia’s face, she barely catches it before it hits her, “I have plans.”
“Me, too.” Kara quickly says, following after Mina as they both walk away. The game ended right at lunchtime (the Lees won) and now you and your coworkers are back at the club. It’s supposed to be everyone’s job to clean the golf carts after they’ve been used, but it looks like today it’ll just be you and Lia… Maybe.
“___, please. I’m going to be late to the cafe, my boss there is already mad at me.” Lia turns to you and begs with her hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes pleading and feet bouncing. You sigh; you’re hungry and your muscles are sore, and all you want to do is go home as quickly as you can. Still, you roll your eyes and take the golf cart keys from her, making her face crack open into a smile as she hugs you quickly.
“I’ll bring you coffee on Monday!” She screams at you as she practically runs away, leaving you with two golf carts to clean. You sluggishly begin, crawling into the cart the Huangs were sitting in when you find a small notebook laying on one of the seats. Picking it up to examine it, you find out it’s your university’s yearly planner, a book that everyone gets at the beginning of every academic year. Along the binder reads “Huang Renjun” and your eyes widen, immediately looking up to glance at the direction that Renjun walked off to a while ago.
Your legs move quickly through the corridors of the club, moving past changing rooms, saunas, and bathrooms, the planner tightly clutched in your hand. Your head is on a swivel and your lower lip is stuck between your teeth, until you hear a door open and slam shut behind you, making you turn your head to catch Renjun walking out of a changing room.
“Mr. Huang!” You call out.. Renjun freezes at the name, spinning on his heel to see you walking towards him.
“Sorry to disturb you, but you left your planner on the golf cart.” You hold it out for him, but he doesn’t take it.
“How do you know it’s a planner? Did you look through it?” You blink at him, stunned, and then glance down at the notebook. You’re surprised by the sudden questions and at the same time annoyed that Renjun accused you of snooping through his things so quickly. The image you had of him earlier, graceful, classy, and attractive, slips out of your mind as he stares down at you. However, this is the first time he’s directly talking to you, and you can’t help the spark that ignites in your belly from the roughness in his voice. It’s higher-pitched, but unpolished and jagged as he speaks with you.
“No. I go to the same University. I have the same one.” You explain. Renjun’s stare turns into shock.
“Really? Which department?”
“Fine Arts. I study Studio Art.” At first you think that you’re seeing things, but after blinking, you can guarantee that Renjun has jealousy painted on his face. It’s so sour that he looks away, trying to preoccupy his hands by fiddling with his bag. “So, are you going to take this, or…?”
“Yeah,” The bitterness drips from his tone, but you have a feeling it’s not directed at you, “Thank you for returning it.” He finally accepts it and turns to his bag, taking out his wallet. The cards inside look thick and heavy; memberships to places you’ll never step foot in and credit cards with limits you could never even imagine. Your pride tells you that you don’t need anything he could give you, so you silently turn around and walk away.
Renjun shuffles through some crisp 10’s and 20’s, but when he looks up to give you the tip, you’re already down the hallway and halfway out the door. You have golf carts to clean.
The next time you see Renjun is a week after the last game. The chilly weather remains, along with the useless uniform you have to wear, but this time around you’re not Mr. Huang’s caddie, you’re Renjun’s.
Kara walks next to you with Mr. Huang’s heavy golf clubs, her lips straight and head turned away from you to show her annoyance at how the caddie match up situation went this week. You’re sure to get an earful about this for at least the next few days, but you kind of like this revenge that fate dealt Kara. Either way, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about the match up. Renjun requested you to be his caddie this week, and you weren’t going to risk your bosses being angry with you by denying the request.
“Driver.” Renjun’s voice pulls you into the game. You pull out the correct golf club and put it into his awaiting hand, your fingertips brushing with his. “Aren’t you cold?” The words shock you, considering they’re the first words Renjun spoke to you today other than commands for golf clubs.
“I-I’m fine, Mr. Huang.” You respond promptly.
“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy, and he quickly realizes how unnecessary it is to bite at you like that, “Just call me Renjun.” His father walks back from his shot, looking very smug. Renjun’s face is calm as he trades spots with his father and prepares for his first swing of the day, correcting his posture and loosening his limbs.
You remember the first time you saw him, how elegant and poised he looked. Your cold hands break into a sweat as your chest heats up from the quick beating of your heart. Renjun has only been icy and accusing towards you so far, yet you still feel warm while thinking about him. There has to be something wrong with you.
“Doesn’t my son look like he knows what he’s doing?” Mr. Huang asks from beside you, a small, unnerving smile on his lips.
“Yes, sir.” You reply back with your own, more innocent, smile.
“I taught him everything he knows about golf…. And women.” Mr. Huang leans into you, turning his chest to face you so that his breath is hitting your cheek. You can’t help but swallow to relieve your dry and cold throat, keeping your eyes forward as Renjun swings his club back and forth a bit in preparation.
“Yes, sir.” The only thought on your mind is to stop this man from stepping closer.
“Is that the only thing you can say?”
Renjun swings his arm back, breathing in as he keeps his eyes on the small white ball and his hopes in the green before him. Mr. Huang’s right hand is warm on your waist, but you would give anything to freeze right now.
A sharp crack ripples through the air as Renjun hits the golf ball and sends it flying into the golf course. His eyes are not where the ball lands, but instead on where his father touches you.
Renjun’s mom died when he was not even three days old.
He never got to meet her— to lay on her chest and hold her finger with his whole hand. He’ll never know what advice she would’ve given him when he got his first girlfriend, and he’ll never know how she would’ve reacted to him crashing his first car when he was 17. He only knows that his mom would’ve been there for him through all of that, unlike his father, who was not.
Renjun has had “mothers” through his life; three, to be exact. The first was when he was 5 years old, and she quickly asked for a divorce after Renjun’s dad went on a three month business trip and she didn’t hear from him the whole time. The second “mother” was a bit more mature than the first and with a lot more time on her hands. She wanted to shape 9 year old Renjun into a perfect student, which was something Renjun’s father appreciated, but still divorced her for “being too strong-headed.” Renjun only met his third mother twice when he was 13: once at the wedding and the second time at her funeral. He didn’t ask any questions, he wasn’t very interested in the first place.
These were the type of people Renjun spent his life around, but they really weren’t his mothers. The only similarity he had with those women was his father, and he treated them as poorly as he treated Renjun. That’s why when Renjun looks at you, cowering away from the very man who is his only link to family, he feels sick.
When is his dad going to stop being a fucking predator? How young does he want his next conquest to be? Will Renjun’s next mom be the same age as him? Something swirls in the pit of his stomach when he watches his father and it takes a moment for him to figure out what it is: jealousy. He’s not sure why he’s feeling jealous over someone he just met last week, but the feeling engulfs his whole chest and it burns him to his spot.
Renjun doesn’t even notice that he swung his golf club or that the golf ball went somewhere far into the green, probably an overshot. He only sees you, afraid of the man touching you but not stepping away. Why aren’t you stepping away?
“Nice job, Renjun.” His best friend, Jeno, claps a hand on his back as he steps up, hitting Renjun back into reality and forcing him to walk towards you. As Renjun approaches, his father slyly takes his hand away, and Renjun notices how you let out a relieved sigh. Giving you back his driver, Renjun strategically stands between you and his father, pretending to watch Jeno swing.
“Good job… Renjun.” You whisper, unsure about calling him by his first name so informally.
“Thank you.” Renjun sends a side glance to his father to see the displeased look on his face. “How was that, Dad?” Renjun hopes that maybe he can remind his father of why he’s here (to win against the Lees this week, not to feel up a girl 30 years younger than him) but in this moment, his father is acting like a 5 year old in the middle of a silent tantrum, not a 50 year old who runs the most successful construction company in the country.
“I’ve taught you better than that.” Renjun is sure they’re not talking about golf anymore, the authoritative tone in his father’s voice sends a lightning bolt of surprise and slight fear down Renjun’s back. He hates how he gets scared, he hates how his father can control him. The fury churns in the pit of his stomach as he accepts his father’s words with a bow of his head.
One day, Renjun swears he won’t submit anymore.
After the game ended with the Lees winning once again, you, Lia, and your other coworkers convene at the golf carts after the clients leave to change inside the club.
“You ladies know the drill.” Kara throws both sets of golf cart keys at you before walking off with Mina. You push Lia towards the entrance of the building before she even has a chance to turn around and open her mouth.
“You should get to the cafe before your boss throws another fit.” Lia turns back to face you, her jaw slightly slack and her eyes shining.
“You’re seriously the best. I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah, just give me a few extra shots in my coffee on Monday.” Lia laughs at that, grabbing your face between her two small, manicured hands and kissing you on each cheek before hopping off inside. You can’t help but be amused at her antics, turning to the golf carts in front of you to start cleaning.
“They make you clean the carts by yourself?” The voice startles you, not because you weren’t expecting it but because it’s Renjun’s. You turn your head over your shoulder, he’s standing just a few feet away still in his golfing gear from earlier.
“Uh, not usually, no. But my coworkers haven’t been happy with me lately.” You explain, fully turning to him and crossing your arms over your chest to tuck your cold hands into your sides.
“The ones who have been working here for a while?” You nod as an answer, and Renjun nods back in understanding, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “They’ve been trying to get with me and my best friend for a while...” Renjun trails off when he sees your eyebrows raise at the comment, “... But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”
“Oh? What are you here for?” The conversation has gotten too informal for a worker and their client to be having, but you kind of like talking to Renjun in this casual setting.
“I realized that the past few times we’ve talked I’ve been such a dick.” He laughs lightly as he remembers, “I wanted to apologize for that. I wasn’t in a good mood last week and this morning, and I ended up pushing it on you.”
Renjun feels lots of emotions when it comes to you, despite only having this one proper conversation with you. He feels envy towards you for being able to study something that he desperately wants to. He feels guilt when he remembers how quickly he made you into a thief when you were only trying to return his belongings, and he feels so many other secondary and tertiary emotions in between. His head is full when he looks at you. He finally feels like he’s thinking about something, not just doing the same day to day motions in a constant cycle of ‘when will this end?’
“You’re apologizing?” You ask, stunned when he nods his head in confirmation. Sincere apologies are important to you. You believe there are not enough of them in this world anymore, and his gentle almond eyes are too wholehearted and warm for you in this cold weather. Your heart feels full looking at him, and you curse at yourself in your head for being swayed like this.
“I also have a question… You mentioned you’re majoring in Studio Art and I was wondering if, maybe, you could let me into one of the studios after a class this week? I’ve been needing a quiet place to work since my house has been busy lately.” One of the hands that was in Renjun’s pocket moves to matte down his sideburns while he glances at his shoes. “Was that too forward? Sorry, I just know that you can’t get into a studio without a passcode and you’re the only person I know who’s in Studio Art.” Renjun explains after you stare for a while, blinking at him.
“You’re an artist?” You finally ask, Renjun giving you a weak ‘yeah’ in response. A part of you wants to say no, that it’ll be weird to do something like this for him when you’ve only known him for less than 2 weeks and up until this point, you’ve only been in a worker-client relationship. However, you’re curious about what he’s like outside of this setting, especially what he’s like when his father has no possibility of appearing, since that seems to be the factor that turns his mood up or down.
“Sure. Come by studio 3 after 6pm on Wednesday and I’ll let you in, but... I heard Mr. Lee already scheduled a game for next weekend?” Renjun nods, “Then in return, you can win that game. It’s embarrassing always being on the losing team.” You smile playfully at the end to let him know you’re only joking.
“Deal.” Renjun sends a smile back of the same caliber, holding out a hand to shake with yours. If you thought you were affected by Renjun’s nice presence, his hand in yours sends you into another realm. His touch is warm from staying indoors and from keeping his hands in his pockets, and they contrast to your cold skin. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your hands connect, turning your hand in his grip to look at your knuckles. “Are you sure you’re not cold? Your hands are freezing.”
“I’ll be okay. I just don’t have any good gloves to wear while working.” He huffs, small traces of white smoke leaves his mouth as he digs through his pockets.
“Wear these.” He replaces his hand in yours with a pair of his own gloves, “Your hands are precious, they shouldn’t be freezing.” Before Renjun can get embarrassed by his own words, he shoves his hands back into his pockets and turns on his heel, walking away, “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”
A knock on the studio doors shakes you away from staring at your painting, making you turn to look at who it is. Renjun peaks through the small window and waves when you make eye contact. You get up to open the door, almost forgetting that today is the day you agreed to let Renjun into your studio.
… Okay, that’s a lie. You definitely remembered that you’re supposed to meet Renjun, but you keep trying to convince yourself that you’re not excited about seeing him outside of that stuffy country club.
“Hey, sorry if I startled you.” Is the first thing he says when you open the door. He’s dressed in slacks, a dress shirt with a sweater over it, and a long coat over that. His nose and cheeks are slightly red from the rough wind outside and his supplies are clutched to his chest.
“Oh, you’re fine. I was just deep in thought.” Something about the studio makes both of you speak in hushed tones. No one else is here, but you feel the need to maintain the peace and quiet the room naturally holds. You and Renjun make your way to where you’re set up, he puts his things down on an easel to your left and takes off his coat, watching you from his peripheral vision.
Those uniforms they make you wear at work are just for show, Renjun knows that well, but that doesn’t stop him from appreciating you in the tight vest and little skirt. However right now, he likes your laid back look consisting of loose jeans and a layered shirt, he thinks it matches you.
“I was going to leave when you got here, but I think I’ll just finish this and head out.” You comment, aimlessly waving at your project.
“Please, stay as long as you need to. This is your studio, I don’t want to kick you out.” He laughs and licks his bottom lip. It’s breathtaking how innocent and nice his smile looks on his face. His eyes scrunch together to form laugh lines and his cheeks rise, he truly looks pretty when he smiles. You think this is the first time you’ve seen him like this.
You mumble back with a mixture of words that probably didn’t make sense and turn back to your work, leaving the room to continue with its peacefulness and quiet. However, Renjun’s presence next to you is too big to ignore. There are so many things you want to know about him and you have no excuse as to why you’re so curious.
“How about a game while we work?” You suggest.
“Sure… How about 20 questions?” It’s like he read your mind, so you smile and nod at his idea.
“You can go first.” You suggest.
“Okay, uh… Why do you work at a golf course if you’re majoring in Studio Art? Shouldn’t you be working at a, I don’t know, museum?” The question catches you off guard and Renjun notices how you stop painting, your brush and your hand floating in the air as you think, “Oh, sorry, is that too personal?”
“No, no… It’s just, normally, the first question people ask in a game of 20 questions is something like ‘what’s your favorite color’ or ‘what’s your sign’.” Renjun lets out a choked and embarrassed laugh, ducking his head down to look away from you. You can tell he’s about to change his question, so you quickly go back to painting and speak before he can.
“I did apply to work at several museums. I didn’t get any jobs, so I had to look elsewhere and Augusta was hiring. I know it’s not very fitting, but it makes good money and rich people know my name, even if it’s for just a few hours.” Renjun nods at your answer as if he could ever understand the idea of being poor, but the insight into your decision brings a fact to light that Renjun wasn’t 100% aware of before: you’re not like him, you need money.
“Don’t you hate the way people look at you there?” The words tumble out of Renjun’s lips faster than he can process the weight they carry. He turns to face you with guilt pooling in his eyes and his mouth opening and closing to find some words to correct the situation.
“No, I don’t like it.” You surprise him with your quick response, “But people like you don’t understand what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, to have to worry about how to pay the bills every month for years on end, always on your toes about money. I bet you think I’m cheap and—”
“No.” Renjun cuts you off promptly before you can continue, “Don’t make me into a jerk. I’m not like that. But the fact that that is the first thing you thought of worries me.” Your eyes widen at that, prompting him to elaborate. “Doesn’t that mean that’s how you think of yourself? Maybe not on the outside, but subconsciously. Sure, I won’t ever be able to understand how you live, but I wish you would not look at yourself as cheap and think of yourself as… beautiful.” Renjun lets the last words linger on his tongue, saying it quietly as if to not startle you.
You stare at him, your paintbrush resting in your hand and your back slouched as you watch him watch you. This is not the type of conversation you thought you’d be having with Renjun tonight, but you have to admit he makes a point. Eventually, you turn to your painting and stare at it some more, making Renjun turn and continue his own work.
“Ah, I asked two questions in a row.” He suddenly breaks the tense atmosphere, making you sigh as you remember you’re just playing a game, “You can ask two questions.”
He allows and relaxes when he sees you go back to painting.
“If you like to draw, why are you a business major?” Now it’s Renjun’s turn to freeze. Maybe if he did ask what your favorite color was he wouldn’t have had to endure this question from you, but he feels like he should answer it since it’s of equal weight to the one he asked you.
“It wasn’t my choice. I will most likely take my father’s place in his company and I need to at least know the basics before that happens.” You nod slowly. He looks so calm when he’s focused on drawing, but it’s not the same calm that you see on his face when he’s playing golf. You turn away before you get caught staring.
“Is that why your mood always changes when your dad is around?”
“Is it that obvious…” He trails off and you nod, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud, but… It’s like everytime I’m around him, or at his office, or at home, my mind goes blank. I don’t feel like talking or thinking at all.” As he speaks, he sets down his utensils and turns to you, making continuous eye contact as he explains. You find yourself feeling comfortable at how easily he’s talking to you about such a deep subject.
“It sounds like… you’re angry.” You turned to face him now too, your paintbrush settled onto your canvas and your full attention on him, “My dad is like that. He gets so angry sometimes that he’s calm. No yelling or fighting, just silence. That’s how I know I messed up when he gets like that.” You nod, remembering all the times he’s been calmly mad at you.
“I don’t know… It’s confusing to me.” He straightens his back and stares at your foot as it moves around aimlessly. “What do I do?” He asks into the air, as if his pencil would suddenly start talking to him like a therapist.
“Just do what makes you happy.” Renjun’s glance over at you makes a smile pull at your lips, “I know it’s easier said than done. But you already know what it is that’ll make you happy, and that’s half of the battle. Why bottle it up?”
Renjun doesn’t know how he’ll ever get the courage to tell his father these things, but the way you’re looking at him as if he can do anything, he starts to feel tingles of confidence trickle into him.
“Oh, and why did you pick me to be your caddie this past weekend?”
“Well…” Renjun plays with his pencil. What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t want you to carry around his father’s heavy golf clubs? He doesn’t like the way his father touches you and gets jealous over it for some unknown reason? Yeah, he’s not going to say.
“Just because… I wanted you next to me.” The way he says it makes it sound so simple and true, but your heart drops to your stomach and springs back up going at 100 miles per hour. You can barely stop your hand from shaking as you pick up your brush, and it’s almost like you can’t see in front of you from the thrill of his words.
“Hey,” Renjun suddenly drops his pencil and turns to you, looking a bit confused and slightly upset, “Didn’t you ask three questions?”
“We’re letting the Lees win again today.” Renjun is in the middle of pulling up the zipper of his jacket when his father drops the news. Renjun’s footsteps stutter slightly at his father’s words and he stops walking next to the older man.
“Again?” He asks as he already thinks up an apology to tell you later when he loses.
“Yes, I need Mr. Lee to be happy when I bring up the new contract to him later in the sauna.” Renjun sighs and continues to walk next to his father. It’s the next weekend, and the third Lee vs. Huang game is starting in just a few minutes.
Renjun won’t lie, purposefully losing to his best friend and his dad every week is not the greatest stroke to Renjun’s ego, especially since Jeno won’t let it down around his other friends.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lijun swivels on his heel to look at his son, “Have you been requesting for ___ to be your caddie?”
The questions stuns Renjun, making it hard to answer so his father takes it as a yes.
“Well stop it. Dad wants to have some fun.” He claps a hand on Renjun’s back and smiles. In the past, Renjun would’ve just rolled his eyes and let his father do whatever he wants, but this time his blood boils. He feels true anger when his father struts away with the intentions of doing whatever he wants to someone Renjun cares about. He can barely move his feet after the old man, his mind cloudy as everyone makes it to the golf carts.
“Let’s have a good game today, Mr. Huang, don’t make it too easy to beat you.” Mr. Lee jokes around and the two old men laugh as they settle into their own golf carts. Renjun walks up to his cart and you wave to him, the white gloves he gave you last week snugly on your hands. Renjun thinks his anger is what spurs him into doing what he does next.
He steps close to you, leaning into your ear and wrapping his hand around your covered ones with his thumb rubbing on your exposed wrist, “Keep these on for me, babe. I don’t want you to be cold.”
The amount of jaws that drops after Renjun’s words makes him bite down his smirk and slide into the front seat of the golf cart, pretending to not see the daggers his father is throwing at him with his eyes.
Your heart beats so quickly and loudly you’re sure Kara can hear it next to you if she wasn’t busy huffing about what Renjun just did. Sitting in the back seat of the golf cart, you watch the back of Renjun’s head on the way to the first hole. What got into Renjun? Why did he all of a sudden call you ‘babe’ and get so close? Not that you’re opposed to it, you’re just shocked.
The game begins once you reach the first hole, and the Huang’s put up a good fight throughout the entire game, keeping the Lees on their toes and the score sheet even. Everytime Renjun comes back from a shot, you smile at him and tell him good job, which earns you a pat on the back from him that warms you up from the inside out.
Renjun can tell his father is getting more and more annoyed with him; how Renjun is keeping you as far from his father as he possibly can, the gentle touches on your waist that you welcome wholeheartedly compared to the ones Mr. Huang would lay on you before. He likes how angry his father gets, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it right now. Not to mention, you seem to be enjoying Renjun’s attention, which just adds to his confidence.
Now, your group arrives at the last hole of the game. The Lees step up and swing, setting their total score to 357. All Renjun and his father have to do is move the ball around a bit more to get their score to be higher and the Lees will win the game. Mr. Huang is up first, acting clumsy so that the ball doesn’t make it into the hole and brings the game to Renjun.
As he sets up his posture, his hands suddenly go stiff. This shot is so easy to make, he has made this exact hole several times. He breathes in and out deeply, deciding on if he should throw the game like his father said he should, or give his one last ‘fuck you’ to his Dad.
He glances at you and makes eye contact; you nod your head and smile a bit as if to say ‘go ahead, we all know you can do this.’ Renjun then grips his golf club and swings it back to effortlessly hit the golf ball, rolling it along the green and perfectly into the hole.
You and the other caddies clap for the perfectly executed shot and Jeno and his father come up to Renjun to shake hands. They don’t look upset, instead they look pretty happy for Renjun. However, Renjun’s father is deathly silent, not even congratulating Renjun on his win. Renjun wasn’t expecting a whole ceremony for him, but it does feel nice to put his father down a peg or two today, and that’s the thought that fills Renjun’s head as everyone rides back to the country club.
While getting out of the golf cart, Renjun attempts to turn back to you but is promptly pulled away by the back of his jacket by his father. Renjun yelps and pulls away, but that doesn’t stop Lijun from grabbing onto his son’s arm instead and pulling him inside.
“What was that? I specifically told you to lose the game and you did the exact opposite. How am I supposed to talk to Mr. Lee now?” Renjun’s father fumes, his low voice belting out into the corridor and making some of the passing staff turn their heads.
“That’s not my problem.” Renjun shrugs and his father stops shaking, stepping closer to his son.
“Excuse me?” He asks with menace dripping from his tongue.
“I said, that’s not my problem.” Renjun is fired up. He doesn’t see a way out of this now, no way his behavior is being excused, so might as well go all in.
“You did it for that caddie, ___, right?” His father squints his eyes and turns his head slightly. When Renjun doesn’t answer, Lijun laughs in his face, “It looks like I’m right.”
“What?” Renjun asks dumbly.
“It’s okay. You’re just a boy and you can make some mistakes over a girl, we’ve all been there once or twice.” Lijun fixes Renjun’s jacket and pats his shoulder, his angry disposition turning passive. “Besides, you can’t do much for that girl anyway. Is a ball in a hole really all she deserves?”
“I won the game because I could. I won it because that’s what I wanted.” Renjun states, his blood beginning to boil once again when his father says he doesn’t deserve you. What is he thinking? Does he actually think he has a chance with you? He can keep dreaming.
“We can’t always do whatever we want. There are consequences we have to face for doing whatever we want. Are you ready to face the consequences?” At the question, Renjun is reminded about the words you told him Wednesday night.
‘Just do what makes you happy,’ Those simple words are so hard to turn into reality. Renjun wants to be happy so bad. He wants to be away from this man and he wants to be closer to you. The consequences? Sure, he’ll deal with it all if it means he can stop living in the personal hell his father set up for him. Renjun pushes his father away a bit and steps out of the trap his father pushed him into, making Lijun’s eyes widen.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Renjun says and turns around, walking back towards the exit of the building.
“Hey, where are you going?” His father shouts after him.
“To do the thing that I want to do the most.” He yells back and walks around the corner, out of sight from his father. Renjun practically runs through the hallways to get back outside and run to you, but you surprise him by greeting him by the saunas. He stops in his steps and you smile as you walk up to him.
“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did really well today. I know I said I wanted you to win last week, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” You laugh.
“Thanks.” Renjun simply says, afraid of what else could come out if he keeps talking.
“Oh, I also want to give you these back.” You dig out Renjun’s gloves from your pocket, holding them out. This is it. This is the moment Renjun will start to do whatever makes him happy, whatever he wants.
And what he wants right now is you.
He quickly takes the gloves and then tightly grips the wrist of your outstretched hand, leading you down the hallway and around some corner. He hears you exclaim a small ‘woah’ but you let him guide you into a sauna, the door closing tightly behind both of you.
There’s no one else in the room, just the stuffy steam that floats in the small space between you two. Renjun has a tight grip on the gloves you gave back to him and his other hand runs through his hair and messes up the perfect form it held.
“Tell me to stop.” He demands, looking straight into your eyes.
“Tell me to stop right now.” He takes a step forward, his eyes full to the brim with lust and his hands shaking with how much he’s holding himself together. You’ve barely been in the room for a minute, but your clothes are already sticking to you from the intense heat.
“I don’t understand,” You reply back as he keeps moving toward you. You take small steps back in return, “I don’t know what I’m stopping you from.” Half of you is playing dumb right now; you know what Renjun wants from you just by the look in his eyes. The other half just wants to hear him say it himself
“I’ll fuck you the way you deserve. Right here, right now.” Renjun’s voice is too angelic to say such nasty words, but he growls them out like he’s a tainted angel. You’re pressed against the wooden wall of the sauna now, Renjun just a step away. You lean into him slightly and rip the gloves out of his hand to throw them to the side.
It’s all the permission Renjun needs to feverishly connect his lips to yours.
The action is so sudden, you don’t remember how Renjun got close to you so quickly. Despite his forcefulness before, his lips melt into you like chocolate melting over a fire, so hot and delicious that you just want more. His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing back your hair and his body pushing you back into the wall.
He sucks on your bottom lip, softly biting afterwards and making you let out a whimper, and then a moan when his thigh pushes between your legs and further presses you against the wall. Amidst the kissing, you find the zipper of his expensive jacket, unzip it, and pull the piece of clothing off. Afterwards, you pull his shirt off and break the kiss while you’re at it.
“I’ve been thinking about you in this skirt since….” Renjun hums at the thought, his hand sliding up your bare thighs and under your skirt, then he grips your ass and brings your core down onto his thigh, the friction enough to have you letting out a strangled moan.
“Since the day I first saw you.” He finally whispers and connects your lips once again. His hand on your ass doesn’t move, his other hand is placed on your waist as he helps you ride the rough material of his pants. Renjun can only watch your reactions; the way your head lolls back into the wall and your eyes screw shut, holding onto Renjun’s shoulders tight enough he’s sure there will be marks afterwards.
“Fuck— Renjun, don’t stop, please.” He’s mesmerized, absolutely addicted to how you look and sound right now, and it’s all because of him. The thought spurs him along, he removes your jacket and you blindly help him in removing your top and bra. You must look like a mess right now, especially since you’re coming close to your climax just by Renjun’s touch and his thigh. Not to mention the sweat dripping down both of you, a glistening sheen coating your skin that makes Renjun let out a low growl before he leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.
He sucks and swirls his tongue, and you can’t help but moan his name again, digging your fingers into his blonde hair and tugging. Renjun moves from your chest downward, not letting an inch of your stomach and hips go past him without a kiss and a nibble, leaving you breathing heavily. He makes his way down to his knees and folds your skirt up, glancing at you from his position.
“You don’t wear anything under here except your panties?” You nod, your head stuttering as Renjun applies pressure with his thumb over your slick hole, a wet spot already there to greet him.
“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.” He groans and leans in to swipe his tongue over your center making you shake as a response. He slides your underwear down and throws it somewhere to the side, catching the sigh of your arousal dripping down your thigh. His intense stare makes you shake him, embarrassment crawling over you at how he’s not reacting.
“Are you shy?” You whine, not really answering his question. “You don’t need to be. You’re beautiful.” The softness from his voice contradicts his more dominating tone from before, but you don’t have time to think about it before he dives in. You sigh in content when the pressure in between your hips caused by Renjun turns into pure pleasure. His tongue laps at your essence and his lips suck on your clit, you can tell he’s trying to find what exactly will make you tick.
When Renjun slides a finger into your hole unexpectedly, you jump and whimper a bit but the feeling of him sliding in and out along with his tongue circling and sucking on your clit makes a knot form in the pit of your stomach, tightening up your muscles and making your eyes roll back.
“Right there. Oh my god, right there…” You keep repeating, praying that Renjun treats you good and let’s you come. He adds another finger and you gasp, starting to move your hips in rhythm to his hand, holding onto his shoulders for more stability. He glances up at you, watching your eyes screw shut and your tits bounce as you use his hand to get yourself off. Renjun hums against you, and you can almost feel the ecstasy of coming undone, until Renjun pulls away. You groan, feeling like crying when your orgasm fades.
“Hey..” You whine, pouting when Renjun stands back up and licks your juices off of his lips. He has some on his chin and you bring your hand up to wipe it away, Renjun stopping your hand and kissing the wetness away, then kissing up your arm and to your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear. He tugs at your earlobe, licking the skin under it and biting some more, his hands sliding up your waist at playing with your nipples, pinching a little to get whimpers out of you and making your hips buck up, ready to continue where Renjun left you at.
That’s when you feel the hardness in his pants; it must be painful. That’s why you understand his next words, whispered into the shell of your ear between kisses: “You’re not coming until I’m in you, got it?”
You nod quickly, attaching your hands to Renjun’s zipper and button, undoing them and sliding down his pants.
“But, you’re gonna need to do something for me…” He says, helping you pull down his boxers, watching his angry, red length swing out. You gasp, feeling a bit bad that you just left Renjun like this to eat you out, but you’re sure you can make up to him now.
“What is it? I’ll do it.” Your hands run over Renjun’s sweaty shoulders, moving away some longer hair in the back of his head that’s sticking against his neck.
“You’re gonna have to yell my name. I need you to let everyone know who’s doing this to you— who’s making you feel good, okay?” Your breath gets caught in your throat as the words tumble out of his lips. He tilts his voice higher at the end of every phrase to make him sound innocent, but you’re not fooled.
“There’s people outside…” You mumble back, sending a glance at the door. You know there are several staff and customers walking along the hallways outside. What will they think if they hear you screaming Renjun’s name? Not to talk about what will happen to your job.
Those thoughts melt away when Renjun’s dick slides between your folds slowly, making you turn your gaze back to him and hold on tight as he lubricates himself over your wetness, holding onto your hips so that you don’t move and take anymore than what he’s giving you.
“That’s exactly why I want you to scream. Can you do that for me?” He asks and you nod frantically, doing almost anything to get his dick inside you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen once you step out of this room, but at least you know Renjun is going to give you the best fuck you’ve had in a while, and you know it’ll be worth it for what’s to come after all this.
“Finally…” You moan when Renjun’s length disappears into you inch by inch, going slow as to not hurt you. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he bottoms out, picking up your thigh to hang it over his hip and wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you close. You hold onto him, adjusting as he kisses your lips sweetly and carefully, and waits to move his throbbing cock through your velvety walls.
“Go, Renjun, move….” You whisper, and he looks at you confused.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He asks, cocking his head.
“Please, move.” You say louder, but he shakes his head and purses his lips as if he still can’t understand.
“I said, fuck me, Renjun. Please, can you fuck me already?” You all but scream out, your voice almost cracking at how whiny you sound. No doubt, if someone passed by outside they would’ve heard you. The thought makes you tense up, but it feels so good to be able to yell out what you want.
“Your wish, baby.” Renjun mutters before he starts rocking into you. You both groan at the sensation, Renjun’s hips speeding up as he gains more momentum. His lips don’t leave yours, kissing you into oblivion while his dick stuffs you. He has you against the wall, his hips powering away and you don’t dare to disturb him, realizing he’s burning all of his anger away as well.
“Yes, Renjun, fuck me just like that…'' You moan loudly to spur him on, now not really caring about who’s outside or who hears you, just wanting Renjun to know you love how rough he’s going. He presses you higher up the wall and pulls your legs apart more, hitting a new angle that literally makes you scream out, tears mixing with the sweat on your face as he relentlessly pumps into you.
There are so many things going on at the same time. Your hard nipples and soft breasts rubbing against Renjun’s chest, making goosebumps rise on his arms. Your hot and sweaty bodies are basically sliding against each other. The clapping of his hips against yours no doubt attracts attention from outside along with your screams and Renjun’s grunts continuously get louder as you both get closer to the climax.
“I’m gonna come… Renjun, come in me…” You’re already fucked out, the words barely leaving your lips coherently, but Renjun understands and moves his finger down to find your clit, circling his thumb fast and steady, just like everything else he’s doing.
“C’mon come on my cock, babe. Let it out, I wanna hear it.” And just like that, you unwind and scream his name as your orgasm washes over and takes control, making you claw onto any part of Renjun that you can reach. Renjun feels your walls deliciously convulse around him and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he comes into you and fills you up, staying wrapped up in you as you both calm down.
Renjun presses small kisses wherever he feels like as your breathing settles down, his softness and the caring way he rubs at your sides and hips where he was holding so hard that you’re sure to have bruises makes you smile hazily.
“___… I don’t regret any of this.” He whispers into your skin, leaning back to look at you properly. “Do you?”
“No.” You answer truthfully, making his eyes shine and you both smile dumbly, your sticking bodies relaxing. The happy moment doesn’t last long before there’s a knock on the door to the sauna. You and Renjun stiffen up as you glance at the door, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.
“Renjun? Son?” Your heart drops to your stomach and you cover your mouth at the voice of Renjun’s father on the other side of the door, but when you turn to Renjun, he doesn’t seem bothered. He sends a smile at you and moves some hair from your face before answering.
“Occupied, go somewhere else. We’re busy.”
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Dabi's fear of feelings and connections
Dabi is a walking contradiction; he says he doesn't care about anyone, but his flames, which are linked to his emotions, demonstrate otherwise when Twice is killed. Dabi brushes off the news that Natsuo could have died because of him but still refers to him affectionately as Natsu-kun. Touya went around calling Endeavor out for neglecting his children but still trained to regain his approval and attention anyway. He lashed out at baby Shouto, admitted Shouto had done nothing wrong, and then attacked him again years later. He cries blood while thinking about his family but doesn't go home to them or change his actions which hurt them even more. Dabi wants to destroy hero society for a better future but it's obvious he doesn't plan to live long enough to see that future.
The gaps between his actions and his words are a result of dissociation and repression. It's not that Dabi is emotionless. Actually, he feels too much and he's afraid of his feelings because they've done nothing but hurt him emotionally and physically. He literally almost burned to death the one time he had a burst of emotion on Sekoto Peak and in order to prevent a repeat of that, he operates under the flawed notion that safety lies in repressing his feelings and pushing people away. He lies to himself and others and therefore cannot reconcile with his true self and can’t trust others.
In this meta I'll discuss how Dabi deals with his unprocessed feelings of betrayal and neglect by denying himself connections with both his inner wounded child and those around him. I'll also address a few misconceptions surrounding Dabi because dismantling them is key to understanding him. Contrary to popular belief, he does not want to kill his father, he never wanted to be a hero for his own sake, and he doesn't hate Shouto or his family. At its core, Touya's hurt stems from discovering that his relationship with his father wasn't based on unconditional love. This realization destroyed his sense of self so much it caused him to start fearing his own feelings and being close to others because of the link between his emotions and his self-destructive quirk.
To understand Dabi we have to understand Touya. In 291 we see through Endeavor's flashback that Touya was eager to train under him and carry his legacy. It's implied by the fact they’re working on ultimate moves that not only is Touya a willing, eager participant but that the two have been training together for quite some time. In 301 we learn that after Touya's quirk started hurting him Endeavor not only abandoned the training regime but also abandoned Touya both emotionally and physically. Instead of using the time he spent training Touya to help Touya find a new hobby or purpose in life, or just hanging out with his kid, Endeavor chooses to remove himself from Touya’s life. When Touya confronts him about the change of routine, Endeavor is seen putting on his jacket and leaving the home, his body turned away from his son.
Maybe Endeavor had errands to run, but my point is that he was in Touya’s life one minute and then gone the next. Touya says so himself: why did Endeavor change his mind all of a sudden? The abrupt change in attitude was jarring for a 4-5 year old to handle. To Touya, training = love, so he felt compelled to keep training and demonstrate his worthiness despite the fact that his quirk was hurting him. To Touya, the pain was worth it if it meant hanging out with his dad again.
But why? Well, Touya was Endeavor's #1 fan, genuinely so. His admiration and fondness for his father was genuine, and he didn't question the triumphant look on Endeavor's face when Touya said he wanted to learn the ultimate move. Before his quirk started burning him, Touya had no idea he was born for his father's ulterior motives. He had no reason to question his father's attention. Touya lived under the impression his bond with his dad was genuine and special, and he probably felt lucky that his father was willing to share something so important to him (heroism). Even after the training stops and Endeavor stops paying attention to Touya, Touya still wears his merch and vies for his attention. Most kids see their parents as larger than life and Touya was no exception. Keigo Takami admired Endeavor the hero, and Touya Todoroki admired his father who just so happened to be the hero Endeavor. Since being a hero was such a big deal for Endeavor, it was a big deal for Touya.
But that's where Touya's story becomes tragic. His father is a flawed, flawed man with many insecurities and fallacies that he pushes onto his family. I’ll get to those in a moment, but as intelligent and observant Touya is to catch on that Endeavor never set out to marry to become a father, he is too young to separate himself from his father’s expectations. Touya realizes he was born for a purpose and Touya will be damned if he doesn't fulfill that purpose even if he knows it's wrong. His father's ‘love’ meant that much to him. For Touya, it's not about becoming a hero for the glory. It was about his relationship with his father because, as I mentioned earlier, Touya was his #1 fan in the sense that he loved Enji just for being his dad. There were no conditions tied to that. “You are my dad, and I love you.”
But that wasn’t a sentiment that Touya felt in return, and that hurt Touya. He internalized he wasn't good enough, that something about him was inherently wrong. But more than that, his world came tumbling down - he felt betrayed and lied to: his father didn't love him like Touya needed him to, and this truth destroyed him. Their relationship was a lie, a farce, and it hurt so much Touya became obsessed with not hurting anymore because he couldn’t get away from it.
Touya’s motivation to become a hero didn't rise from being inspired by All Might like Shouto. Touya’s thought process wasn’t "I want to be a hero to help others or be like All Might" like Deku. No, Touya only wanted to be a hero because he wanted his father to be proud of him for surpassing All Might. Notice that Touya's obsession with beating All Might slowly diminishes from “I can surpass All Might” to “I can surpass All Might like Shouto, too” to just “look at me, Endeavor.” It was never about being a hero per say, but about his relationship with his father. Touya realized that Endeavor isn't his father first, but a hero, and he understands that he has to be a hero too to fit into his father's world. Even upon realizing that his father was using him, Touya still wanted to be part of his life, still wanted that bond. Touya, in his desperation to be loved and accepted again, could look past his father's selfishness as long as he regained that approval. Touya could pretend the relationship was real as long as he stopped feeling so unlovable.
This is unhealthy thinking, of course. Even if Touya somehow managed to regain Endeavor's approval, the relationship would still be one-sided and dissatisfying because he wouldn't be able to ignore the truth. But, this is how he rationalized his insistence to keep training in his 4-5 year old mind and this line of thought stuck with him as he grew up just as those feelings of inadequacy never left him.
This is precisely why Natsuo's drowsy "can't you go talk to our sister?" hurt so much. Touya was already emotionally fragile, and hearing that felt like being rejected all over again when it was actually Natsuo just trying to sleep. Touya was hypersensitive to any words or actions that could be interpreted as dismissive. His trauma wouldn't listen to logic that Natsuo was 8 and too young to understand, that he was tired - no, Touya's brain said, you're being rejected again! This is also why he also stormed away crying from Fuyumi after she expressed her concern for him.
In Touya’s mind, why couldn't anyone just agree with him that he was good enough? He heard "your dad's right and you're not good enough so why try" not "I care about you, your father is wrong, and I don't want you to keep getting hurt" whenever Rei tried to get him to stop training because that's the message he got from his father, too. Nevermind that it infuriated Touya that his mother could stand there and preach to him when, from his perspective, she couldn’t take her own advice. All Endeavor ever did was teach him to turn up the heat, so why should it matter that doing just so hurts him? Touya didn't understand NOT training his quirk because he had been taught that raising his firepower was ideal in all situations. Those two statements didn't make sense to a 4-5 year old, a 13 year old, and it still doesn’t make sense as a 24 year old.
To take Endeavor's lack of self awareness a step further, because it's important to understand Endeavor to fully understand Dabi, Endeavor has yet to realize his own inherent worth. He doesn't have to prove anything to his family, especially his kids. They love him unconditionally, without special reason aside from the fact that he's theirs and he's himself. However, Endeavor is so obsessed with proving himself that he doesn't realize he never had to, and he projects this onto his children. They must prove themselves by winning the genetic lottery, by being useful to his plans, by surpassing All Might.
The irony that to be a great father he doesn't have to be a hero at all is ugly because Endeavor has no identity outside of being a hero. Endeavor has said before he wants to be a good hero and father to make Shouto proud, but he fails to realize he already had this in Touya all those years ago and it still left him unsatisfied. The issue isn’t his role as a hero, it’s his inner self. In 301 Endeavor literally reaches out to Touya to talk him out of training and hurting himself, and Touya allows his father to touch his shoulders because he wants a bond with his father - any bond. Shouto, on the other hand, wouldn't allow Endeavor to touch him in 167 and slaps his hand away because he doesn’t want Endeavor’s approval. Endeavor doesn't realize Natsuo carries deep abandonment and neglect issues because he wanted to be accepted by his father too (light novel #5) but was ignored. Endeavor doesn't realize he was always good enough by default and that by projecting onto his kids and trying to be the top hero he’s doing the opposite of what he wants. He just keeps pushing away his family.
It’s important to point out Endeavor’s illogical thinking because Touya learned some of these same ideas. Touya repeatedly tries to prove himself without realizing that he was always good enough by default. The problem wasn’t his quirk or his body, but his father’s flawed thinking and self-worth issues. Now as an adult, Dabi is selfish because he's Endeavor's son and emobidies his most negative characteristics. Dabi thinks of his flames as Endeavor's, and he thinks of himself as an extension of Endeavor because that's how Endeavor set him up for life. Touya has no identity to fall back on after his father casts him aside. He was supposed to be Endeavor 2.0, but now that title is Shouto’s. Dabi doesn’t hate Shouto as a person, but he has tricked himself into believing Shouto is their father’s puppet. Shouto is a doll being used by their father with no self agency, and Dabi is going to break all of Endeavor’s toys. It’s nothing personal against Shouto, it’s just Shouto’s bad luck that he happens to be Endeavor’s masterpiece. This is why Dabi doesn’t hurt Shouto when they first meet at the training camp, and why Dabi stops attacking Shouto after Endeavor passes out - it’s not about Shouto. It’s about Endeavor, and breaking Endeavor. Touya is still there trying to be part of his father’s world, only this time not as a hero but as a villain who will end his own suffering. He doesn't want Endeavor to die, he just wants him to suffer, to ruin his dreams. Dabi thinks of it as justice.
But because Touya is still there, there is still that goodness in him, too. His connection to Fuyumi and Natsuo is still there, repressed and compartmentalized. It’s why he calls them affectionately as Fuyumi-chan and Natsu-kun. Touya’s pain is so great he has decided he’d rather end it than to carry on and look elsewhere. He's stuck, rightfully so. He recognizes his mother is a flawed person and ultimately doesn’t blame her for being a victim - she could have done more for her son, but he still sees her and his other siblings, even Shouto, as people who fell victim to Endeavor’s abuse who don't challenge their situation. Dabi sees himself as someone who does stand up to the abuse but doesn’t realize he still wants his father’s attention. He's always wanted it. That's why he went around at 13 condemning his father's treatment of his children but still trained to prove himself. This is part of the reason he became a villain.
Not to mention that Dabi literally can't cry. He has no way to release those emotions, so instead of trying to let them out, he pushes them down. But that doesn't work and is detrimental in the long run. In 290-294 we saw Dabi's flames burn so hot during his confrontation with Endeavor and revealing himself as Touya that his burns have spread. Dabi is afraid of his feelings because of their connection to his flames, but he also uses his feelings to his advantage. He wants to go out in an inferno along with Shouto just to hurt Endeavor and put an end to his own suffering and Endeavor's career. This is why Dabi doesn't bother calming himself down or denying that he never forgot how he was treated when he lived at home. Dabi became emotional in that battlefield, smiling maniacally instead of crying because he physically can't cry. In his mind, if his feelings are going to destroy him, he might as well use them to prove a point. After all, he has experience being used. It's why he was born.
I'm not saying any of these actions or thoughts are healthy or correct or condoned, by the way. Trauma responses don't make logical sense and usually aren't healthy. Knowing how the mind responds to trauma, it's understandable that Touya still wanted his father's attention even if it was abusive. In fact, this is how children often respond to abuse. Their caretaker/parent is all they know and they cling to these figures. Often times when authorities try to remove a child from their abusive parents, the child doesn't want to go because this parent is all they know and they do feel like they love their parent/caretaker. I’m not saying the authorities got involved in this case, because obviously they didn’t, but this same mentality of abused children can be applied to Touya. Touya, in his four year old mind, probably convinced himself that if he was good enough everything would go back to how it used to be.
So, to sum up Dabi’s character, of course he doesn't make any sense. He’s still that hurt 4-5 year old who is trying to protect himself from ever getting hurt like that again while still wanting his father’s validation. Of course he doesn’t want to get close to anyone, not even the League. He doesn't want to be vulnerable or let people in or form connections because the last time that happened he was let down, forsaken, and it hurt so much it literally made him lose control of his quirk to the point he almost died. When Twice is killed, Dabi consoles himself by saying he didn't care anyway, all to prevent another emotional fire. Dabi is a master of compartmentalizing and boxing away his feelings - this is probably why, 310 chapters into BNHA, we have yet to have a few chapters in his POV or his backstory. He's disconnected from himself. He knows his plot to get justice will hurt his siblings and mother and to live with himself and move forward he represses those feelings.
Because of his father not showing up on Sekoto peak, Dabi has to live with physical disabilities due to his scars and memories of burning alive. He doesn't want to go through that again so he lies to himself that he doesn't care about anyone or anything. He denies that he's still in pain while simultaneously seeking validation of his pain. He acts like he doesn't care about his family but still calls them affectionate names. He acts like he hates Endeavor and calls him by his name but still wants his attention. He decided long ago that he would die destroying Endeavor's career because that was the thing Endeavor cares about most of all in this life. It's a "you hurt me so I'll hurt you" mentality. He has tricked himself into thinking this is justice, failing to realize this won't make him feel better if he doesn't die by his own hand along the way.
Dabi is full of resentment and spite, both of which take root from feelings of abandonment, betrayal, and the loss of a purpose and the realization that he wasn't born to be loved for who he was but as a tool for his father. The first betrayal he suffered was in the form of realizing his father didn't love him genuinely, and this was identity-breaking for him. He never recovered from it. The second betrayal, the reinforcer, was his father not showing up to Sekoto Peak. Since then, Dabi is reliving his trauma over and over again the more he uses his quirk and the more he faces Endeavor. To be saved, Dabi needs to accept that he is loved unconditionally and needs to be validated that he was right to feel thrown aside and used.
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smoke and mirrors
⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠
warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut
summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him
a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x
your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.
weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?
the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.
it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.
as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.
your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.
you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.
tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.
what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.
“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.
“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.
“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.
the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.
tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.
“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. ￼
weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.
smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.
harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.
“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.
“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.
hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.
you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.
tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.
harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.
“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.
“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.
“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”
it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.
“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.
“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”
“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”
the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”
you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.
“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”
you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.
“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.
you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.
you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.
“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.
“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.
she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.
frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.
“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.
you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.
tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.
when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”
you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”
you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.
you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. ￼
tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.
“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.
you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.
following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.
you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.
“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.
his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.
“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”
a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”
tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”
that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.
tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.
you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.
“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.
a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”
he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.
“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.
“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.
“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”
tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”
“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”
“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”
tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.
it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.
“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.
“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.
“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.
“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”
414 notes · View notes
Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader // Damian Wayne x Batmom
Summary: It’s hard getting the approval of your significant other’s children, especially when one of those children is Damian Wayne.
Word Count: 5,500+ [One Shot]
A/N: My favorite Batman is Christian Bale, so that’s who I imagined in this fic. Just add 2 inches to his height to make him more canon 😜
Yes, dating a vigilante was hard. There were the sleepless nights of worrying. There were the lies. There were the injuries, the close calls, the near death situations.
But somehow those weren’t the things that Y/N found the hardest when it came to dating Bruce Wayne.
Sometimes she felt it was the act of Bruce Wayne – the billionaire playboy, the noncommittal flirt, the naive man who just spent his unearned money. And sometimes Y/N thought Batman was closer to how her boyfriend actually was than the way Bruce Wayne was portrayed by the media.
But no, the hardest part of dating Bruce was winning over the approval of his family.
With Alfred, he was glad Bruce finally had someone who could make him happy in a way neither he nor any of the children could. There were just some things he couldn’t give Bruce, and romantic fulfillment was not one of them. Y/N also helped Alfred get through to Bruce when he wasn’t taking care of himself or risking too much. Two was always better than one when it came to Bruce’s stubborn tendencies.
With Dick, has was a full-grown adult by the time Y/N met him. He had grown out of Batman’s shadow and made a new name for himself as Nightwing. And somehow it was like he wanted Y/N’s approval more than she wanted his. It was endearing and a relief. The first time they met, Dick pulled Y/N into a bone-crushing hug and tried to hide his enthusiasm. Apparently he had been annoying Bruce about introducing him for quite some time.
With Jason, things were a bit more complicated. Jason still held bitterness towards Bruce and Y/N assumed that would just bleed over to the woman the man was dating and in love with. But that didn’t seem to be the case. Jason was more than polite when he finally met Y/N. In fact, the little bastard even tried to flirt with her, suggesting she leave Bruce and date someone more youthful and exciting. Bruce had only narrowed his gaze, knowing that giving any more of a reaction would only encourage Jason.
With Tim, he would’ve reacted more like Dick if he wasn’t so exhausted and out of it when he finally met Y/N. He had rolled out of bed, not even knowing what time it was. When he basically crawled his way to the kitchen, he was confused to find Y/N sitting there with a cup of coffee and wearing pajamas that Tim knew belonged to Bruce. To the young man’s credit, he scavenged up as much energy and manners as he could in his state.
But it was Damian that was Y/N’s greatest challenge.
Luckily Bruce had given Y/N fair warning of his son’s behavior long before he even considered introducing them.
But when Bruce finally came clean about his double life to Y/N, he fully came clean. And that included telling Y/N about Talia and the surprise he received eight years after a night he hardly remembered, which occurred against his will.
“He didn’t have a normal childhood. He doesn’t know how to be a kid,” Bruce had warned her when he first brought up the idea of introducing her to his family.
“Being a trained assassin since birth probably makes it a bit difficult for him to relate to kids his own age,” Y/N had added.
“I’ve told him to be on his best behavior. But just…” Bruce had hesitated. “Please don’t take anything he says personally.”
Damian was in the library sketching in one of his pads. He had heard the arrival of his father and his…companion, but decided to ignore it.
Yes, his father had told her he was bringing her over. But Damian hadn’t promised to introduce himself or even interact with her.
But lo and behold, there was a knock on the giant doorframe of the library a few moments later.
“Damian,” Bruce greeted. This was his signal and warning to the boy to show some manners, and get up from the couch.
Damian stood up and slowly made his way to them.
Y/N took in his attire. The boy was wearing grey slacks, loafers, and a black turtleneck. He looked more like a small man than a child who hadn’t even hit puberty yet.
But while she took him in, Damian did the same to her.
She was beautiful, but all the women Bruce had any sort of relations with always were. So it meant very little to Damian. However, she seemed to hold herself a bit higher. There was an air of confidence around her many of the other women that Damian had observed did not.
“Damian, this is Y/F/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is my youngest son, Damian.” Bruce introduced cordially.
Y/N made the first move. “Hello, Damian. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Damian looked unimpressed and his eyes flickered to his father, who was giving him a look of warning. He shook her hand.
“I have a mother. Therefore, I advise you do not attempt to be mine.” He’d seen such behavior before. Even Bruce’s one night stands looked at him with pity, like he was an orphan. They talked to him like a toddler and tried to mother him immediately.
But he wasn’t having any such behavior this time, especially seeing that Bruce was taking this particular relationship much more seriously than any of the past.
“Damian!” Bruce growled.
But to Damian’s surprise, Y/N chuckled at the attack. She didn’t seem offended in the slightest. “Well, that’s quite a relief, because I wouldn’t have any clue on how to be anyone’s mother.” Then she gave a sigh and crossed her arms. “However, I was hoping we could be friends. But if you have no interest, that’s fine too.”
Damian merely scoffed at that and gave his father a look as if to ask, ‘Am I done now?’
Bruce gave him a nod and his son returned to his spot on the couch in the library.
And that was how Y/N and Damian’s first meeting went.
Y/N was always respectful and nice when Damian was around, but she made sure not to force interactions and conversations onto him.
But she also took countless mental notes on the thing that Damian seemed to enjoy, as well as the things that irritated him immensely. She tried to find ways to give him the first, and avoided the latter at all costs.
It was fall and Y/N wanted to bring some fall and Halloween festivities to Wayne Manor.
Bruce had guiltily told her in passing that the kids had never carved pumpkins, nor had they ever gone trick-or-treating. Y/N was appalled and almost made a fight out of it.
But now Y/N had a plan and had already invited Dick, Jason, and Tim to a night of Halloween fun. Her challenge was now getting Damian on board, who had been the main focus since he was still a boy and Y/N was convinced there was still a chance for him to have a childhood.
Damian was eating his breakfast in silence as he read a book. He had said a quiet and stiff good morning to Y/N, but ignored her after that.
The sad thing was that Y/N considered that progress.
Y/N cleared her throat and looked at Bruce. “I was thinking of going to that farm I’d mentioned this weekend. The one right outside the city.”
Bruce knew what she was playing at. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, I wanted to carve pumpkins this weekend and get some other fall treats. Could we go Saturday morning?”
Bruce winced. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t Saturday morning.”
She had a look of disappointment. “I can go by myself. But I just need help carrying the pumpkins…”
Bruce made eye contact with Damian. “Damian, why don’t you go with Y/N?”
Damian gave his father a look that said everything. “Absolutely not.”
“It’s fine, Bruce. That just means I can pet those farm animals for as long as I want and no one can judge me,” Y/N laughed.
Bruce smiled at her, both because he found her adorable and also because he was impressed by the clever game she was playing.
“You said you were going to get pumpkins,” Damian pointed out.
But it was obvious she had peaked his interest.
“Well, yeah. But it’s a farm and they have a bunch of animals there, too. Cows, horses, chickens, goats, cats, and dogs.”
Damian hesitated before finally declaring, “I can help carry your preposterous pumpkins if father insists.” His eyes flickered to his father.
Bruce quickly cleared his throat. “Oh, I do insist.”
That was how Y/N ended up alone in a car with Damian for the first time. He didn’t say a word and she wasn’t going to try and make him. So she put on some classical music and drove in a peaceful silence.
After they hauled a dozen pumpkins to the car, Y/N gave Damian space when they reached all the animals the public could freely interact with.
She tried to subtly watch him and she swore she saw a soft smile on the child’s lips when he started getting surrounded by the goats.
Then it took all of her strength not to whip out her phone and get a picture when Damian was cradling a kitten in his arms, softly scratching beneath its chin.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she opened it to see a text from Bruce.
How’s it going?
Y/N smirked and quickly typed back.
Better than I expected. He’s trying to hide how happy the animals are making him. But it think it’s pretty obvious.
Bruce’s next text caught Y/N off guard. She froze as she read the words.
Thank you for trying with him. I know it’s not easy. But I appreciate it.
She didn’t really know how to respond to that. Of course she would try with Damian. How couldn’t she? It made Y/N wonder how serious or not serious all of Bruce’s past relationships were.
Bruce always glazed over Y/N’s questions about past women. It wasn’t because he was embarrassed; it seemed more like he was implying that they were nothing compared to her and their relationship.
But Y/N and Damian’s relationship wasn’t just slow and steady progress.
There were definitely failures that set them back.
One of the most memorable was a night that ended with Y/N in tears.
But she told herself that she should’ve known better.
It was Damian’s birthday and he had been on edge. Not because he cared about his birthday, but because everyone else wanted him to care. Alfred made a cake. Dick asked him if he wanted to have people over – which ended up being a reminder that Damian had no friends his own age.
To no surprise, Bruce was out of the country handling Batman business. He insisted he didn’t need any help from his current or past proteges. But Y/N also knew that was his mixed up way of making them all stay together for Damian’s birthday...when he couldn’t take a night off of crimefighting.
Maybe Y/N tried too hard.
She saw Damian’s irritation grow through dinner, but she was hopeful that her gift would make him feel better or make all the attention worth it.
When the rest of the family had moved into the living room and Alfred went to go get cake, Y/N decided a window of short-lived privacy would be the best to give her gift.
She quickly scurried to the laundry room where it was hiding safely.
“Damian?” She asked the boy shyly.
He glared at her.
Y/N slowly handed him a cardboard box with holes in it.
Damian opened the unsealed lid and two kittens popped their heads out, immediately meowing up at him.
Y/N watched his reaction closely.
The dining room filled with an uncomfortable silence.
“I asked Bruce before and he said it was alright,” Y/N quickly added, misreading the silence.
Damian slowly lifted his gaze to Y/N.
“You are pathetic,” he muttered evenly.
“What?” Y/N whispered, completely stunned.
“You are so desperate for my approval. But you refuse to realize that I will never give it to you. Do you truly believe you are any different from every other harlot my father has brought here? At least they were smart enough to know their time was short, therefore they were not insistent on forming a relationship with me.”
Y/N’s mouth opened in shock, but no words came out.
But he continued. “At least Selina Kyle knew her place, and she was no helpless civilian!”
Y/N whipped around to find Dick fuming in the doorway. She hadn’t realized Damian’s siblings had become their audience. Along with Alfred who was holding a lit birthday cake with a look of absolute mortification.
Dick sometimes acted more like Damian’s father than his older brother. And he was also more aggressive about pointing out when and why Damian was acting like a complete brat. While Bruce went the disappointment route, Dick explained how his actions were hurting people around him.
Y/N was even more embarrassed that Damian’s outburst was heard by the whole house.
“Excuse me,” Y/N barely even whispered before rushing out of the dining room.
“What the fuck is the matter with you?” She heard Jason snap at the boy. Then it was quickly followed by disapproval from the rest of his siblings.
“Y/N, wait!” Dick rushed to her as she started putting on her coat and grabbing her purse.
“It’s fine, Dick,” Y/N brushed off without looking at him.
She was trying to get out of there without crying as if her life depended on it.
“He didn’t mean it,” Dick tried to urge.
Y/N scoffed and finally looked at him. “You and I both know that isn’t true.”
“He’s upset about his mother. I think he was expecting some sort of contact from her today. Of course, she did nothing of the sort–”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She cut him off before opening the door and escaping.
Dick sighed, but quickly turned around and stormed back into the dining room.
But Damian was already gone, as were the two kittens Y/N had just gifted him.
“He’s in his room,” Jason informed him.
Dick just nodded and made his way to Damian’s bedroom, not bothering to knocked before shoving the door open.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Dick growled. “What makes you think you can talk to people like that?”
Damian scoffed as he looked down at the two kittens playing with each other on top of his bed. “I am the son of Batman and the true heir of Wayne Enterprises. She is below us all, Grayson. And you know it.”
“She has been nothing but kind to you since we met her. But I don’t know why she bothers with the way you behave. Do you know how long it took her to convince Bruce to let her get those for you?”
Damian said nothing.
Dick took a breather and crossed his arms. “I know you think all there is to the world is fighting. But if you continue on this way, you’re going to have a very lonely life, Damian. What’s the point of saving this world if you don’t have a positive relationship with a single person in it?”
He knew Damian wouldn’t have a response, so he left him with that.
A few days later, Dick made his way to the batcave to find Bruce staring at the multiple large screens.
“You’re gonna have some damage control with Y/N.”
That got Bruce’s attention and he turned to him. “What happened?”
Bruce sighed. “That would explain her lack of communication…”
“It was bad, Bruce. Real bad,” Dick emphasized.
Later that night, Bruce knocked on Damian’s door and opened it without waiting for permission.
Damian was sitting on the floor with his two kittens.
“I see you’re enjoying your birthday present,” Bruce said sharply.
Damian quickly stood. “They’re alright.”
Bruce was one to get right to the point. “What did you say to Y/N that night?”
“Nothing that was not true.”
“For some reason, she feels the need to protect you and refused to tell me. So that means you are going to tell me.”
Damian almost looked guilty for a moment, but quickly recovered. “I said she was just like all the other harlots. And then I…may have compared her to Selina.”
Bruce’s jaw tightened. “You’re grounded for the next month. That includes patrolling.”
Damian’s jaw dropped.
But Bruce wasn’t about to let him get a word in. “Since you gave Y/N the impression that you hated her gift so much, would you like me to also take away them?”
Damian’s eyes widened at the idea. “No!”
It took Bruce three weeks to get Y/N to come back to Wayne Manor. Before he managed that, Y/N would only have Bruce come to her place or they would go out somewhere.
She claimed it was because she wanted to give Damian space, especially after Bruce told her the punishment he gave. But Bruce knew that Damian triggered insecurities that Y/N hadn’t acknowledged. Which upset Bruce more than anything.
Y/N was reading in the library as she waited for Bruce to finish a phone call before they had dinner together.
She didn’t even hear someone come in. But next thing she knew, Damian was standing before her.
“For fucks sake, Damian!” Y/N gasped. “You scared the hell out of me.”
But he didn’t see too sorry.
“Did you need something?” She asked once her heart rate returned to normal.
“I came to...apologize…for what I said to you that night.”
Y/N eyed him and sighed. “Damian, you don’t have to apologize to me just because Bruce told you to.”
“Father didn’t tell me to apologize.”
Y/N squinted in confusion.
“I'm sorry,” he continued. “You are not like the others. And you are no harlot.”
Y/N couldn’t help but smirk. “Thank you…I think?”
Damian just gave a slight nod before turning to make his leave.
“What are their names?” Y/N asked just as Damian reached the doorway.
He hesitated and for a moment, she thought he was going to ignore the question.
“Tristan and Percival,” he finally said, only glancing back at her over his shoulder.
Y/N smiled at his answer.
Later that evening, after Bruce and Y/N had dinner and had some private time on their own, Y/N wanted to say goodbye to the boys before she left.
It was a rare occasion where Tim, Dick, Jason, and even Damian were lounging in the theater together. Though Damian was reading a book and pretending like he had been forced to have some down time with his brothers.
Y/N popped her head in and they all turned to her.
“I’ll be out of town for a bit, so I wanted to say bye before Bruce drove me home.”
Jason was the first to jump up. His massive and tall body moved disturbingly smoothly as he picked Y/N up off the ground to wrap her into a big hug.
Y/N chuckled at his antics. It hadn’t taken long for her to figure out that while Jason was dangerous and had quite the dark, sarcastic sense of humor, he was actually just a big softie on the inside.
Then Tim slowly made his way to her, walking like a zombie.
After Y/N pulled away from his hug, she cupped his face. “Maybe you should try and get some sleep, and take it easy on the coffee.”
She always tried not to baby any of them. Jason and Dick were full-on adult men. Tim was more of a college student who didn’t always took care of himself. Damian was Damian. But Y/N also knew that with what the boys saw in their night lives, they were far more mature than the majority of adults that had decades on them.
Tim just gave a shy smile and nodded.
Dick gave Y/N a quick kiss on the cheek and a tight hug.
When Y/N pulled away, she was surprised to see Damian standing in front of her. She assumed he would just ignore her departure.
“I’m guessing you’ll take a pass on a hug,” Y/N laughed.
But to everyone’s shock, Damian hesitated before slowly putting his arms around Y/N. She froze in shock, but quickly recovered and held him tightly.
Damian lingered longer than any of his brothers.
Tim, Jason, and Dick all shared a look with Bruce, just as shocked by their youngest brother’s behavior.
But Y/N didn’t notice. She was too distracted by how she could physically feel the tension being released from Damian’s body. She rubbed his back, hoping it would help him relax even more.
Y/N wondered how long it had been since someone hugged the boy.
She knew more than anyone that Bruce’s touches were few and far between. She received them the most and it was always in private. But she imagined he was even less physically affectionate with his children.
After a minute or so, Damian finally pulled away and looked up at Y/N with the softest eyes she’d ever seen on him.
She gave him a warm look. “Goodbye, Damian.”
He blinked and seemed to finally realize he had lost his cold exterior for a moment. “Bye, Y/N.”
Then he shot past her and his father, probably making an escape for his bedroom.
“You cast a spell on him or something,” Jason clipped.
Y/N shrunk into herself, wishing that the first and only civilized moment between her and Damian hadn’t been so openly observed.
“Come on. Let’s get you home,” Bruce saved her and gently steered her away with a hand on her lower back.
“You know, for someone who said they had no intention of being their mother, they all clearly see you as such,” Bruce told her after a few moments of silence in the car. Then he hesitated before adding, “Even Damian.”
Y/N ignored his observation. “What is his mother like?”
From what little Bruce had told her about Talia Al Ghul, Y/N had already decided that she hated her. After she manipulated Bruce and assaulted him, there was nothing she could do to change Y/N’s opinions about her. But this was the first time she asked Bruce about Talia’s relationship with her only son.
Bruce’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Talia is cold and conniving. She started training him the moment he could walk. She treated Damian more like a warrior than her son.”
Bruce’s eyes saddened then. “And after tonight, I’m starting to wonder if I’m any better for him…”
He couldn’t get the image of Damian hugging Y/N out of his mind.
Y/N sighed and shook her head as she looked out the window. “After everything he’s been through, he deserves gentleness and kindness, Bruce. I know you can do it…because you do that for me every day.”
Bruce’s only response was to reach over and grab Y/N’s hand, and pulling it slowly to his lips to kiss the back of her hand. He didn’t let go for the rest of the drive.
Things got a bit better after that.
Damian would at least greet Y/N when he saw her. But he wasn’t one to strike up conversation beyond that.
But progress was progress and Y/N would take any she could get.
Y/N was doing the finishing touches on her makeup.
Bruce had been overworking himself – more than usual, if one could believe that was even possible. He knew he was being a terrible boyfriend. And he knew he had to make it up to Y/N. She deserved better.
So Bruce promised Y/N a fancy night out – anything she wanted. Nothing was too expensive. Nothing was too much.
Now Y/N was in a cocktail dress with her hair done up and her makeup glamorous.
She was about to slip on her heels when her phone started vibrating and Bruce’s name flashed across the screen.
“Tell me you’re not already dressed,” he spoke before she could even say hello.
“Bruce, you’re supposed to be here in 15 minutes. Of course I’m dressed,” she laughed. “Do you know how long it takes me to look like this?”
Then she heard him sigh – not at her, though.
Y/N’s amusement dropped. “What is it? Has something happened? Is everyone OK?”
“Damian had a rough night,” that was all he gave her.
“It was a…close call. He’s a bit shaken, but he’s trying not to show it.”
Y/N sighed. “Jesus,” she mumbled.
“I don’t think I should leave him alone. Everyone else is on patrol to cover for me already, and Alfred is sick.” He paused for a second. “Would you hate me if I asked you to just come here for the night?”
“Of course not,” Y/N quickly answered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
After Y/N changed into sweatpants and washed off all of her makeup, she got a cab over to Wayne Manor.
She walked in with her hands full.
Bruce quickly rushed to help her. “What’s all this?”
“That’s soup for Alfred. And pizza for you, me, and Damian.”
Bruce smirked at her, but she knew all the unsaid words behind it.
They were lounging on the couch 30 minutes later.
“Where is he?” She asked Bruce quietly.
She had hoped Damian would’ve made an appearance once he heard or smelt that there was pizza waiting for him. But he had yet to emerge.
“He hasn’t left his room since we got back,” Bruce told her.
Before Y/N could ask any more questions, Bruce’s phone started going off.
Somehow Y/N already knew it wasn’t about Wayne Enterprises. It was bat business.
Bruce quickly got up and left the room.
A few minutes later, he walked back with a frown and his brow furrowed.
“Everything OK?” Y/N asked carefully.
“It was Tim. I have to go,” he said reluctantly.
Y/N quickly stood up. “Go. I’ll make sure Alfred is OK. And I’ll be here if Damian needs anything.”
“They’ll be fine,” Bruce told her, preparing to make a full argument for why she didn’t have to stay.
But Y/N shook her head and gently grabbed Bruce’s face. “No. I’ll be here. You go do what you have to do.” Then she quickly kissed him.
But Bruce kissed her again, slower and longer this time.
“Thank you, Y/N.” He told her quietly before he disappeared to the batcave.
Y/N had a plan though.
She quickly whipped up a batch of cookies and put a few on a plate. She left them outside Damian’s door and knocked, but didn’t linger.
She decided to light a fire in the family room and watch a movie alone. It was cozier in there than the theater room, in her opinion.
An hour later, Damian appeared in the doorway. His two kittens, Tristan and Percival, basically attached to his ankles. Those two troublemakers never left the boy’s side when he was at the manor.
“Thank you for the cookies,” he told her quietly.
“You’re welcome,” Y/N smiled.
But then she fully took him in. There was a bandage on his head, his lip was split, he had a black eye, and there was a bruise so dark around his neck that Y/N could put together that someone had almost choked the boy to death.
“There’s pizza in the kitchen, too.” Y/N added.
“What’s the occasion?” Damian asked, confused by her kind gestures.
“No occasion. I just had a bad day.”
“What happened?” He asked with genuine curiosity.
Damian had very little experience with people admitting such feelings and tiny failures. “Bad days” didn’t exist in the League of Shadows – only duty and pain.
Though Y/N was playing it up, she actually did have a bad day.
Y/N sighed. “I was running late for work, so I forgot my umbrella and got completely drenched halfway through my walk to work. Someone accidentally ran into me in the kitchen and spilled their tomato soup on my favorite sweater. And my boss was just an overall asshole to me today.”
She eyed Damian who was listening to her closely. “Looks like you could’ve had a better day too…”
“I’m fine,” he answered too quickly.
Then Y/N saw her opening.
“I actually came over here to cuddle Bruce,” she chuckled, knowing it was embarrassing to admit that – especially when it involved the Dark Knight.
Damian scoffed. “Cuddle?”
Y/N nodded. “Mhmm. It helps after I have shit days.” She sat up straighter on the couch. “Did you know it’s scientifically proven that cuddling benefits your health?”
Damian didn’t respond, so she kept going.
“Cuddling gives your brain an oxytocin boost. So it lowers your stress, makes you relax, helps you sleep, and it even boosts your immune system.”
Damian seemed to be processing this information. “Then why haven’t you used father to get this oxytocin boost?”
Y/N gave him a sad smile and shrugged. “Bruce had to leave – bat business.”
Damian nodded slowly.
Y/N, having thought her little plan had failed, turned her attention back to the television and leaned back into the couch.
Imagine her surprise when a moment later, Damian sat next to her on the couch. Then he inched closer.
Before he could back out, he leaned into Y/N slowly.
She looked down at him in surprise and wondered if Bruce looked like this when he was Damian’s age.
“Perhaps I can fill in for father until he returns,” Damian answered before she could ask.
Y/N had to control her emotions, knowing if she started crying now, Damian would make a run for it and this moment would be over.
“Thank you, Damian.” She whispered as she wrapped an around his shoulder and pulled her closer into him.
Just like when Damian had hugged her that one miraculous time, Y/N felt the tension leave the boy’s body. He relaxed and his heart rate slowed.
“What about you?” Y/N asked after a few minutes. “How are you doing?”
Damian got quiet, letting the question linger. “I think I had a bad day too,” he finally confessed.
“I know you did,” Y/N muttered into his hair as she kissed the top of his head.
Imagine Bruce’s utter shock when he returned to the manor with Dick and Tim to find both Y/N and Damian passed out, and with Damian cuddled up to Y/N.
Dick opened his mouth to verbalize his astonishment, but Bruce immediately stopped him with a warning look and a finger to his lips.
So instead, Dick and Tim took a dozen photos of the adorable scene, and immediately sent them to Jason.
If Damian hadn’t been so exhausted and beat up, he immediately would’ve sensed his family’s entrance. That’s why it took him a few minutes for his sense to actually catch that he and Y/N were no longer alone.
The boy quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes awake.
Tim and Dick knew better than to tease Damian. So the two of them and Bruce just carefully waited for Damian to say something.
“I assume everything went according to plan tonight,” Damian finally said.
Everyone noticed how he asked it in a hushed tone, to assure that he didn’t wake Y/N.
“Yes. Why don’t you get to bed, Damian?” Bruce suggested.
Damian just stood up and walked past them.
But the boy paused a few feet behind them.
“Father,” he said quietly, “I like her.” And that was all the boy spoke before disappearing to his bedroom.
Bruce ignored the stares of Dick and Tim, and made his way over to Y/N. He smoothly lifted her body into his arms and headed for his bedroom, brushing past his two sons.
His walk was so even and smooth that Y/N didn’t rouse from her sleep until she felt the dip of the bed when Bruce joined her.
“Is Damian OK?” She immediately asked, realizing the last thing she remembered before falling asleep was looking down to see Damian had already passed out.
Bruce reached across the bed and cupped her cheek. “He’s doing much better…thanks to you.”
--- a continuation with Seized
I’m really, really enjoying writing for the BatFam. Let me know what you think. :)
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Pairing: Kenma x Reader
Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation
Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.
A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~
There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.
Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.
However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.
You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.
Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.
You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.
Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.
(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)
Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.
There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.
You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.
But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.
He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.
Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.
You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.
He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.
But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.
“Kozume, do you want to play-”
“Just call me Kenma.”
Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.
“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”
You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.
It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.
If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.
He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.
It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.
“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”
“Kenma not you too!!!”
His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.
“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”
There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there’s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.
“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”
You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.
It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.
It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.
“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”
There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.
But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.
He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…
Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.
“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”
He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.
But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.
Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.
“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”
It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.
It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.
It’s your rejection.
It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.
And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.
“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”
He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.
“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”
“That’s not true! They love me-”
“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”
You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.
“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”
He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.
“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”
If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.
But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.
“You really are made for this, aren’t you?”
You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.
There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.
You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.
How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?
That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.
But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.
Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.
“Kenma! No! Too much-”
You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.
You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.
But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.
He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.
There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...
Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.
You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.
Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.
“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”
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Same Old Love | Kaeya (Genshin) x Traveler!Reader
✧ Summary: Kaeya was mysterious in every way that made you wary. From the gleam in his eye to how easy it was for him to flirt, it made you wonder how much he was presenting was truly real. Not wanting to get sucked in, you swore not to fall for the Cavalry Captain. At least, that was the plan, right?
➳ Notes: Angst with a happy ending
➳ A/N: Thank you so much for the ask!! This was fun to write ((I feel like I write so much angsty/jealousy fics haha)) I’m just getting into genshin and so please feel free to send in requests for these cuties <3 @breathings-of-the-heart
You had some worries about Kaeya, dubbed “The Handsome Mr. Kaeya” by Paimon.
There was no doubt that he was attractive, his ever present smirk and exposed chest was enough to signify to anyone that even Kaeya was well aware of his looks. But he tended to wield his words like a double edged sword - using his words for an express purpose.
It was admirable, in a way. He was the loyal Cavalry Captain who looked out for Mondstadt’s best interest. And while he had misled you on this pirate treasure adventure, there was no harm really done. In fact, from the way he prattled about haircuts and eyepatches inherited from his parents, you were already sure that it was simply a tale being spun for Paimon to latch onto.
At the end of the day, Kaeya still compensated you for your time and provided you with a higher-level weapon. The criminals were caught and the Knights were credited for another arrest of an infamous Treasure Hunter. It was a win-win situation that you very quickly put behind you as another job done.
The entire quest had not really bothered you - it was not like you had not withheld anything either. You ran from clue to clue without updating Kaeya on your progress, with the express intent of snagging some of this treasure yourself.
It was a really smart move on his part and, for whatever reason, it had the inverse effect on you - it made you want to get closer to Kaeya.
Paimon grumbled for all of a day before she prattled onto something new, complaining about the returning ruin guard by the temple or the way Venti sassed her. But you often found yourself hanging around Good Hunter or Angel’s Share, wondering if you would be able to run into him again.
It was no surprise that Kaeya was always busy, Jean had mentioned before that Kaeya was the one who often wrapped up every physical incident that occurred in both the city and outer plains of Mondstadt.
And so it was easy to lose track of him, the image of Kaeya still present in your mind, just pushed back in the further recess as you continued in your struggle to find clues about your brother. When whispers on the street spoke of a Dark Knight hero, you were pleasantly surprised to see Diluc patrolling the streets from the shadows.
The last thing you had expected was to team-up with the very man who ran opposite to the Knights, but you learned how oddly sweet Diluc was in that short amount of time. His double life of fighting off the abyss army single-handedly to running the largest Winery on the continent - Diluc’s workload was no easy feat.
You were just out of the clear, Huffman gone to deal with the slimes when a resounding clap started from the dining area of the bar. Kaeya stood and approached you both, you turned to Diluc and he had the flattest, most unimpressed expression on.
You stood mostly silent in that conversation, Diluc with his arms and chin held high. Kaeya had reassured him that the secret was best kept that way, eyes glinting mischievously as they went from the winery owner to you.
You only stared right back, as if Kaeya’s face would give off exactly what he was looking for. Instead, he simply smiled at the both of you and left when Diluc said he was closing the bar. Diluc thanked you for your assistance, reassuring you that in case you need help, he was a willing hand.
When you walked out the bar then, Kaeya was still right outside, chatting casually with some of the late bar-goers that sat at the picnic table. Just as he made eye-contact with you, he bid himself goodbye from the group and fell into step with you.
“Paimon doesn’t trust blue-haired, eye-patched men anymore.” She started next to you.
“That’s good I’m a blue-haired, eye-patched handsome young man.” Kaeya shot back, to which she rolled her eyes. He then turned to you with the same open smirk as usual, “And here I was thinking I could make you my assistant.”
Was he flirting with you?
It took you a second to question this internally before Paimon scoffed, “Ugh, I’m going ahead to the inn. I don’t think I can stand watching you make kissy-faces at each other after the day we had.”
You waved a hand in her direction to smack her, but she was already flying away up and out of reach.
Turning back to the Captain, you were surprised to see that Kaeya was still looking at you, not even toward Paimon as she fled into the night.
Remembering his last statement, you shot back, “Think you could handle me?”
“Confidence, it looks very good on you.” Kaeya replied as his smile widened. He took a single step closer, lowering his voice next to your ear and continuing. “But the real question is if you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”
You stood your ground, ignoring the shiver that ran up your spine, “I always like to try new things.”
“I look forward to it.” Kaeya straightened, lightly grabbing your hand in one of his own and raising it to his lips. “Until then, traveler.”
To think that such a simple action, hardly anything scandalous, had lingered on your skin the entire night. You remembered the way his lips felt against your hand, how striking his blue eyes bore into your own. Kaeya was extremely dangerous, able to catch your attention and keep it for hours on end.
The next day you had a commission about dismantling a rising Hilichurl camp, a perfect distraction away from the eye-patched hunk that kept plaguing your thoughts. The last thing you expected was for Kaeya to see you.
“Looks like our honorary knight continues their do-good streak.”
“It’s the least I can do.” You replied back, a sassy hand on your waist.
“Why don’t I accompany you?”
You wanted to scream.
Paimon actually did groan before stating she was going to stay in the city.
And suddenly, your distraction was running exactly opposite to your intention. With Kaeya joining your party, the Cavalry Captain was making himself decidedly known you.
He led you around a cliff, showing you a higher area where you could survey the camp before bursting in guns blazing. There were six Hilichurls, some slimes scattered about and two towers already set-up in this enemy campsite.
You decided to stick together, coming in from the high ground and slamming your weapon into the ground at unsuspecting enemies. It felt nice to fight alongside someone again, oftentimes you were alone in your adventures. Paimon would yell words of encouragement, but never would she actually lift a finger to fight. But Kaeya was reliable, freezing enemies into place and shattering them where they stood.
Taking down some of the outer-rim electro Hilichurls equipped with bows, you were nearly finished with clearing the entire camp. You grabbed the pyro slimes and exploded them near the towers, taking down the camp with them. With the camp almost completely disassembled, you heard the tell-tale electronic power-up that only signified one enemy.
A ruin guard.
Hunched over, you watched as multiple missiles took aim on the nearby unsuspecting Cavalry Captain. Running the best you could, you threw decorum out the window as you all but tackled the poor man out of harm's way.
Rolling a few times, there was no surprised yelp from the man beneath you. He simply allowed you to take the wheel until you came to a stop, hovering over his body. Kaeya was undoubtedly taller than you, but you were face-to-face as he smirked beneath you.
“Wow, not that I’m against this.” Kaeya started, a quip ready. “But ask me out to dinner first.”
You flushed and stood up immediately, “I was saving you!”
“I’ll let you save me any day of the week.” Kaeya replied, earning a half-assed scowl on your behalf. He only laughed at you, calling your attempted look of intimidation only served to make a cute pout instead.
You huffed and considered leaving him with the ruin guard.
From then on there was no doubt about it - Kaeya was flirting with you.
And you were openly flirting back, if of course he decided a less obnoxious moment. In between commissions and nights at Angel’s Share, Kaeya flirtations were growing more and more brazen. It was one thing to kiss the top of your hand in greeting and another entirely for Kaeya to throw his hand across your hair, leaning in to openly bury his nose in your hair.
Diluc called you both disgusting.
Tonight, you entered Cat Tail’s semi-inconspicuously to get a drink. Paimon had long caught onto your game, saying that she surprisingly approved of Kaeya, since after all he was still a good guy in some ways.
But, she still was not exactly a fan of you too making “kissy-faces” at each other, her words. And so tonight you were flying solo, Paimon opting to annoy Amber instead tonight as they tracked down some abyss mage or other.
You tried your best to hang around the bar, looking around the tavern to see if the object of your desire was anywhere around. You meandered for a few minutes, saying greetings to other bargoers that had recognized you, before approaching the bartender if Kaeya has been around
The bartender recognized you immediately. It was hard not to place one of the few new people in Mondstadt, especially one that was crushing much of the country's enemies. Diona had mentioned before that you were a friend of Diluc’s, often more than just a customer at the rival tavern. No, you were seen running around the city with the red-head at random times.
She said the worst thing you could have ever suspected.
“I think Kaeya has a hot date tonight.”
You felt a lump in your throat form, but tried to keep your response guarded. “Oh?”
The bartender continued, “Yeah, I’m not sure if it was Paula? Or Maggie tonight? But you know the captain - always changing up his escapades.”
“Right, of course.” You replied back, words coming out before you could even register it. Instead, you kept on nursing your drink, spiteful words from the bartender marinating in your mind.
Kaeya was mysterious, yes. But was he leading you on?
… Was it right of you to trust him?
The first red flag should have been the fact that you knew nearly nothing about him personally. To think that you had spent all this time together talking and fighting alongside one another, but you could not even recall basic facts about him, let alone anything deep. You were unaware of his family history - Diluc was his brother, but it was the red-head who ended up confiding that fact to you.
Kaeya was so charming that you hadn’t even noticed he shut you out of his world.
And so there was no point in actively keeping a one-sided friendship like that. From then forth, you resolved to avoid the Cavalry Captain for the time being. You knew you had to free Dvalin together, but that did not mean you had to swoon for him in your free time.
It was almost expected of you to join him on Friday nights at Angel’s Share, but tonight you were missing. Neither Charles nor Diluc had seen you the entire day. There were probably a hundred different things you were doing - gathering resources, fighting slimes - and so Kaeya thought little of it.
But he was still disappointed not to see your face that night.
And so he thought nothing was wrong the next day when he saw you in the city square, talking to someone at the general store. He approached you and offered to join your party again, take down some enemies somewhere out in the country.
You didn’t even smile at him.
Not this time.
Just a curt no before you were leaving out the city gates.
The second time Kaeya already had enough and confronted you before you could even attempt to walk away.
He grabbed at your elbow, “Have you finally grown tired of me?”
You pulled it back, no real strength behind it as Kaeya still held you under his grip. “Kaeya, why is it that you keep reaching out to me? I have nothing of my own to offer - no money, no family - there is nothing left I can give you.”
He frowned in response but grabbed at your other hand, “I haven’t asked you for anything, have I?”
You looked away, “You don’t have to! It’s inherent, after all. Isn’t that why you asked me to team-up in the first place, to use me to find your criminals?”
Kaeya mentally recoiled, “Woah, back up. I may have guided you regarding the treasure but never have I maliciously led you on.”
You pulled at your hands to no avail, this time the captain actively trying to keep your attention on him.
“I just! I thought I meant something more to you, Kaeya.”
He smiled and tried to pull you into his chest, but you shoved off his touch this time fully.
“No! You can’t just hug me and think everything is okay. You’re supposed to be one of the good guys, one of the handful of people I can trust in Mondstadt and I know nothing about you.”
Kaeya did not reach for your hands, instead moving to stand in front of you. “I’m sorry that I hold my secrets close to my chest, but that’s what I’m used to.”
Frustrated, you replied. “Don’t you get tired? Holding the people that love you at an arm's length?”
“I’m sorry.” He repeated, this time reaching for you. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t special. Trust me, you’re the only one I’ve had eyes on ever since you landed here in Mondstadt.”
You shook your head, “But the bartender, she said -”
“Who cares what she said?” Kaeya interrupted, “They know village gossip, but they don’t know me or you.”
“I don’t really know you.” You replied.
Kaeya caressed the side of your cheek before lightly gently grabbing your hand again, “Then let’s start.”
With a hesitant smile, you closed your eyes and nodded.
You had your doubts then and it’s not like an issue of trust was fixed overnight. But, to his credit, Kaeya tried as best he could. Instead of meeting randomly at the bar, he would approach you sometime during the day and set-up a date. How he knew where you were was a mystery, but a man with that many connections surely had a way.
He had no qualms about holding your hand or openly kissing your cheek in the presence of others - proclaiming loudly to one and all in Mondstadt that you were his and he was yours.
Taking your first argument to heart, Kaeya was very keen on communication. Anything you were unsure of, he expressed that he was by no means rushing you. And when you finally shared your first kiss, for once not a single soul in front of the Lord Barbatos statue, you leaned into his touch to get many more.
Kaeya made good on his promise, slowly letting you into his world in kind. You remembered one night as the both of you sat on the edge of Mondstadt, nothing but ocean for miles in front of you. You had your head on his shoulder, describing your adventures with your brother and how you missed having family.
Kaeya had a gentle hand in your hair, rubbing soothing circles as you recalled a time long ago. Once your story finished, you two continued to stare out, wondering what the future could hold as your minds swam in an endless sea of thoughts.
He broke the silence.
“I miss my brother also.”
Diluc was not always his estranged brother, but once a friend, supporter, and sounding board. Some even mistook them as truly twins in heart and mind, defending Mondstadt and having each other’s backs for years. The Diluc you had come to know was a shell of his old self, close friends and past hidden behind years of repressed feelings.
There was no doubt wistfulness in Kaeya’s eyes as he recalled the past to you, but you continued to listen quietly.
Your relationship with the Cavalry Captain was hardly easy. Often responsibilities called you both - Kaeya was highly stationed in Mondstadt while you still had seven other countries to visit. But that did not mean the end for you both. Even when you were thousands of miles away or sat atop the highest mountain without a clue to where he was, you cherished the thought that you still shared the same sky with the love of your life.
No matter where you were in Teyvat, you had Kaeya to return to.
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I Don’t Like A Gold Rush || Jungkook
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Summary: Jungkook is the golden boy, an excellent student, the star of you college's football team. Rumor has it, there's simply nothing he can't do. The same cannot be said about you, but you've never had an issue with that. You're happy with your small group of friends and your lack of talent in sports. And then, Jin befriends Jungkook, and you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. Before you know it, you've taken an interest in him — and you're sure you shouldn't. There's no way this can end well for you... right?
Also available on Ao3.
Word count: 17.3k
Genre: College AU, strangers to lovers, slice of life, mostly fluff
Warnings & Tags: discussed insecurities, alcohol consumption, reader almost has a panic attack at some point, shy jungkook, jungkook is bad at Feelings, Reader is bad at feelings too, mutual pining kinda, Jungkook has long hair, sfw, New Year’s Day themed.
A/N: I don’t know how I would name my stories without Taylor Swift. Anyway, this is more or less centered around the New Year (it was supposed to be more and then... it didn’t happen), and I hope you’ll enjoy it! Happy New Year everyone!
The first time you hear Jungkook’s name, it’s in the sentence “Man, is there anything Jungkook can’t do?”. You look up at your friend Jin from the book you’re studying. You have no idea who Jungkook is, but that doesn’t mean anything. Jin is always complaining about how you don’t know anyone on the campus, which you think is quite unfair.
…but then you really don’t know that many people on the campus.
“What’s going on?” you ask him, because he sounds extremely annoyed, and he shows you his phone. On it, there is a score for a basketball game. You think.
Your college is famous for its basketball team… Right?
“Uh-uh,” you still say with a nod, trying to make it look like you have any idea what you’re talking about.
“This kid is crushing it at school, the girls love him, and now this!” Jin complains, a little too loud, and shushing noises come from a spot behind you. You turn around to give the group an apologetic look. “I really shouldn’t have bet against him.”
Ah, there you know what to say.
“You really need to stop making bets. You never win them.”
Jin glares at you.
“And you are a terrible friend. You’re supposed to comfort me!”
“I’ll comfort you when you stop making the worst choices imaginable,” you mutter, going back to your work. Jungkook’s name, his supposed excellence, and that basketball match — if it even is basketball — leave your mind as fast as they entered it, without leaving a trace behind.
“So the school’s won another basketball game, huh?”
You look up at Namjoon who’s just arriving to the table, holding his tray in his hands. You know he can’t possibly be talking to you about that, so you’re not surprised when Jin appears behind him. That doesn’t stop you from throwing Namjoon a disgusted look.
“Really, Joon? Sports?”
Namjoon shoots you an amused glance from behind his glasses. It’s notorious in your friends’ group that you despise conversations around that subject. You hate anything that involves objects flying around and anything that’s played in a team, and, apparently, those are the only sports that people care about. They could discuss athletics, or swimming, which you wouldn’t enjoy but you wouldn’t hate, but that never happens.
“You were right, Jin. That Jungkook guy really is impressive.”
You tune them out. You don’t care about basketball.
“You’re talking about yesterday’s game?” Yoongi asks, coming out of thin air, and you sigh. You had been hoping you would have at least one person to talk to during lunch.
“Jungkook’s friends with Hoseok,” Jin says, leaning forward conspiratorially, which does get your attention. If that’s true, then that Jungkook guy can’t be a completely terrible person. Hoseok is probably the nicest person you’ve ever met.
That being said, he might have very low standards for his friends. You know him enough to appreciate him, not to judge his tastes.
“So I’m going to become friends with him,” Jin announces triumphantly, only to be rewarded by a chorus of groans and protests.
“But why, Jin?” you ask. “Please don’t talk about popularity. This isn’t high school anymore.”
“And that stuff was already stupid back then,” Namjoon adds, and you nod. You can always count on Namjoon to support you.
“And I hate people,” Yoongi says.
“And Yoongi hates people!” Namjoon immediately picks up. “Do you really want to make him go through that?”
You grin at the question. Yoongi’s misanthropy always comes in handy. Jin, however, is not amused, but he just shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s used to the three of you teaming up against him by now. Usually, it’s on academical subjects, but he isn’t phased by it anymore regardless of that. Not that there’s much that can phase Jin anyway.
“First of all, I said I was going to be his friend, not you lowly peasants, and second, he seems like a nice guy! Do I need another reason to want to make friends?”
You tilt your head.
“He’s protesting too much,” you say.
“I agree,” Namjoon nods. “That’s suspicious.”
“Come on,” Jin rolls his eyes, “do you really think that little of me?”
“And now he’s trying to guilt-trip us. Joon, can’t you analyze that conversation and figure out what it all means?”
“You know that’s not how literary analysis works, right?” Jin asks you, but you ignore him.
“Actually, it is,” Namjoon says, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’d say you were right with your comment,” he adds, looking at you. “I’d say… this is about parties.”
“You’re not going to actually believe—”
“Thanks, Joon,” you say, and the two of you high-five without looking at each other. Yoongi lets out an appreciate whistle.
Even if Namjoon and you aren’t being serious about this, parties actually make sense. Jin… isn’t quite a social butterfly but, unlike the three of you, he does enjoy people’s company to some degree. You know first hand that he’s been to a few this year — you had accompanied him for moral support — but they were pretty tame, and you’re aware that he at least wants to try some more intense stuff. The problem was that those were harder to be invited to. Hoseok could probably do something about it, but he tends to avoid parties on campus.
“Okay, then you should go for it,” you nod.
Yoongi and Namjoon, sitting on either side of you, approve. Jin looks a little surprised at your reaction.
“That changed your mind?”
“You said you wanted ‘the full college experience’,” Namjoon explains with a shrug. “If you think that’s part of it, we wouldn’t want to hold you back.”
“We will judge you for it, though,” Yoongi warns without batting an eyelid, pokerface perfect, and you laugh. You won’t be mean about it, of course. You just might tease him a little.
“Thank you,” Jin says. “I’ll do it, then.”
Good. If you’re lucky, it will be out of his system next time you all have lunch together.
Lady luck had never been on your side, for as long as you could remember. It wasn’t like you got the worst of things either, but usually, things that could go wrong, did go wrong. Because of that, you tried your best to remove those things from your path. Sometimes, though, you just didn’t manage to identify them.
And that’s why, when you hear Jin’s voice and look up from your food, being the first at the table as always, you see he’s accompanied by two people.
One of them has fluffy, dark brown hair, falling on either side of his face and in his eyes. He’s talking and laughing, and there’s something that you can’t help but identify as mischievous in his smile. The other is slightly taller, with jet black hair held up in a bun. He’s quiet, mouth opening for silent laughs when his friend jokes. Between them, there’s Jin, and you think that they look good together. All handsome, all holding themselves with confidence.
You had realized before that Jin felt out of place in your group, from an outside point of view at least, but it’s never been as striking as it is now, as he’s walking with people he clearly belongs with.
It makes you really thankful that he’s your friend.
“Hey,” Jin says, smiling widely, “these are—”
“You’re untying your hair before eating?” you say, looking at the guy with the bun who just sat opposite from you and took off his hair tie with a sigh. He looks up at you with wide round eyes, like you just caught him red-handed — doing what, you’re not quite sure.
That is the first thing you ever say to Jeon Jungkook.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get hair in your food?”
You know people find you too blunt sometimes, think you come off as aggressive, but you almost never intend for that to happen. In that case, you just think the logic here is a bit surprising.
“That’s… a good point, actually.”
“(Y/N),” Jin sighs, “let me introduce you to Jungkook” (he points to the man who’s now tying his hair back up) “and Taehyung.” (he points to the other guy, who’s flashing you a smile.)
“Oh,” you say, looking back at Jungkook. “You play basketball.”
He lets out an awkward laugh and avoids your eyes. Instead, he grabs his fork and focuses on it, twirling it in his hand.
“Yeah, I do— I do that.”
Huh. It takes you a second to piece things together, and you think Namjoon will be of great help once he’ll be there, but for now, one conclusion comes to you.
Jungkook is shy.
“I play basketball too,” Taehyung says, leaning over the table, grinning at you, and you can tell that it’s his way of swooping in to save Jungkook. You can appreciate that.
“She hates basketball,” Jin warns.
“That’s a strong word,” you say, but only half-heartedly, because, well, you definitely don’t like it.
“I think it works.”
“You think what works?”
Jin’s face falls while you grin. If Taehyung is Jungkook’s savior, Namjoon is yours. Your friend sends you a questioning look as he sits next to you, facing Taehyung. He gives polite nods to the two basketball players, like they sit with you at lunch every week, but you notice that he doesn’t quite meet their eyes. Namjoon is not particularly shy, nor a misanthrope like Yoongi, he just isn’t too comfortable around people he’s just met.
You and Jin, well, you’re perhaps a little too comfortable. Not everyone likes it.
“He says I hate basketball.”
“But that would imply you care about basketball.”
“And you don’t.”
“Which means you don’t hate basketball. As always, you’re wrong, Jin.”
Jin looks extremely, extremely done with you, but when you and Namjoon high-five, Jungkook laughs quietly and Taehyung nods in appreciation — for the gesture, not the debate.
That is the moment when Yoongi drops his tray on the table and sends a weird glance towards Taehyung and Jungkook.
“What did I miss?” he asks. His tone is a bit dry, and you see Jin’s shoulders straightening. He knows Yoongi is going to be the most difficult one to win over. Not that you’ve been won over yet, but you’re not that difficult. Usually, people don’t like you, not the other way around. You don’t blame them. You’re not sure you’d like yourself very much if you were in their place.
“Oh,” Jungkook says spontaneously, “we had a class together last year! You’re majoring in engineering, right?”
Yoongi looks at him. His eyes are shining with suspicion, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. Knowing him, he’s definitely wondering why Jungkook would even remember him.
“Right,” he finally confirms, slowly.
There’s a moment of silence, which Namjoon breaks.
“I’m a literature major, by the way.”
“That’s really cool,” Jungkook comments honestly, with the same spontaneity he displayed earlier.
“And I’m in mathematics,” you say.
“Wow. I thought you people existed only in legends,” Taehyung says while Jungkook avoids your eyes. You decide that, yeah, you like Kim Taehyung.
“Don’t say that, I like maths,” Jungkook protests, voice soft, much to your surprise — and, judging by his reaction, Taehyung’s.
You were right, you decide. Jungkook is not a completely terrible person.
You didn’t expect it to become a routine, for Jungkook and Taehyung to eat with you guys, but it does, and as time goes on, other people join your little table. You’re not sure you like that. It’s clear that those people are orbiting around Jungkook, which, good for them, but you don’t see why you need to be there for that.
You do see that Jungkook is not completely comfortable with all of it. He’s good at handling people, good at making jokes and at laughing at the right times, you notice, but there is a stiffness in his shoulders more often than not, and it looks like he’s well-trained at it rather than enjoying it. It kind of reminds you of Jin, except Jin is not as quiet the rest of the time. Taehyung obviously does his best not to let his friend deal with things alone, which is sweet, but he can’t do everything for him.
You barely exchange a word with Jungkook during that time period. You’re usually trying to be forgotten when the table is buzzing with noise, finding refuge in Namjoon and Yoongi’s company. You thought Yoongi would be an ally in reclaiming what’s always been your spot, but it quickly becomes obvious that he has a crush on Taehyung’s friend Jimin, so he never complains about the recent invasion of the table by strangers.
You hear a lot of basketball vocabulary. More than you care for, to be honest. That’s one of the few moments when Jungkook’s face lights up and he gets truly excited, with an almost childish happiness. His demeanor changes, from shy to confident, and the transformation never ceases to amaze you. As soon as the conversation ends, his shoulders fall, he smiles awkwardly, and focuses back on his food or his phone.
You’ve met his eyes a few times in those moments, because he often looks around him like he’s afraid someone’s noticed. He averts his very quickly, though, so you’ve never said anything about it.
So, really, there’s not much that changes. You still only speak to your three friends — you think Taehyung is a good person, and you don’t think he hates you, but you don’t have anything to say to each other —, and sure, you have a little less space when you eat and more noise around you, but aside from that, it’s pretty much the same. You think that’s a relief. You’re not too fond of change.
Usually, you’re pretty decent at spotting it coming. You did miss it when Jin said he was going to become Jungkook’s friend, but other than that you’re able to do your best to avoid it. You don’t see anything coming the day Taehyung calls out your name, though. You look up at him from the book Namjoon is showing you, surprised. He has an arm slung over Jungkook’s shoulders, and Jungkook isn’t looking at you, of course.
“Do you think you could explain a maths-thing to Jungkook?”
You blink at him.
“What’s the ‘maths-thing’?”
“Does it matter?”
You raise an eyebrow, and Jungkook groans. You get the feeling that he didn’t really want Taehyung to ask you about it. He sends an annoyed glance to his friend, who is still smiling brightly at you, while pushing a lock of hair out of his face. His hair is tied, but this one traitorous lock always escapes.
“I’m struggling a little with probabilities,” he admits, glancing at you for half a second. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine once I can get my head back into it, I’ve just been training a lot recently and—”
“I can help you, if you want,” you say. “I’m not the most fond of probabilities, but it should be okay.”
“Great!” Taehyung says, patting his friend’s shoulder before Jungkook can answer. “You should do that then.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Jungkook asks, actually looking at you this time. You meet his eyes, notice that he looks worried about it. You can’t figure out why.
“I really don’t,” you shrug.
He smiles at you, a small, hesitant smile, but a smile nonetheless. Probably the first one he directs at you. It’s a nice sight, you decide, and you smile back.
Jin’s sentence “is there anything Jungkook can’t do” takes all its sense on the day you meet Jungkook at the library to study. You don’t know what you expected. You never thought Jungkook was dumb or anything, but since Taehyung asked you to help, you thought he would have some difficulties, at least. However, as it turns out, he either understands immediately when you explain something to him, or he’s already understood it. He asks for some clarifications here and there, but all in all, you feel kind of useless.
“You don’t need me at all,” you say after a little while, and Jungkook looks up from the book with the worried wide-eyed look you’ve gotten used to.
“No, no, you’re doing a great job,” he protests. “You’re really helping me out here.”
“No I’m not. It’s obvious that you could do that all on your own.”
He deflates a little at that, looks away from you.
“You help,” he mumbles. “I have a hard time focusing when I’m alone.”
That makes a lot of sense to you, actually. You’re good at focusing all of your energy on one thing, perhaps even too good, to the point where you easily get obsessed and become unable to take care of anything else, but even you need the right conditions for that.
“Okay,” you say with a nod.
Jungkook gives you an anxious look.
“So you don’t mind helping me out?” he asks, and there’s something in his voice that catches you, but you can’t tell what it is exactly. Maybe it’s the hope, or maybe it’s the fear. You don’t understand what he’d be afraid of. Worst case scenario, you would say no. That wouldn’t be the end of the world.
“We can work together,” you offer. “You can ask me if you need help for anything and I’ll just work on some other stuff.”
He seems relieved, and again, you just don’t understand it. It’s not like you’re his only option. There are plenty of people out there who could help him. Plenty of people who would jump at the opportunity of helping him. You know that, because he’s always surrounded by those people, and everybody in school seems to know him. Even when you walked into the library with him earlier, before you got to the table you’re sitting at now, a few students greeted him. You don’t see why he would attach any importance to you, specifically, helping him. You barely know each other.
“Thanks,” he says, and he gives you a small smile. For some reason, that makes you drop the subject. Instead of asking about it — which, knowing yourself, you probably would have — you shrug it off and reply with a nod.
The silence that follows feels comfortable, to you at least. You’ve never minded silence. Jin hates it, though. You get to work, watching absent-mindedly as Jungkook goes through the lesson he was working on. He does ask you a couple of questions, but it’s probably to make you feel like you’re doing something rather than because he actually needs it. You still answer them, and watch him grin, satisfied with himself, when he turns out to be right every single time.
“Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this week-end?” he asks out of the blue after about an hour.
You look up, surprised. The two of you haven’t exchanged much, and certainly have not talked about anything other than— well, other than maths. His eyes are on his notebook, as usual, and you don’t get any insight as to why he asked the question.
“I don’t know. Is Jin coming?”
“Uh, I guess? Taehyung’s probably talked to him about it.”
“Then I’m probably going.”
Jungkook mulls over your answer for a few seconds, twirling his pencil between his fingers, and you feel like you have to clarify, which is not an urge you have often. Usually, you let people decipher for themselves what you meant. That works very well with Namjoon, sometimes with Yoongi, not so great with the rest of the world. Including Jin, though Jin compensates with his impressive ability to interpret everything you say in his favor.
“We always go to parties with Jin. For moral support.”
For all that you tease him, you genuinely care for him. You know he wants you to go with him, so you do. It’s as simple as that.
Jungkook doesn’t look at you, but he still smiles at what you say, and it’s— it’s interesting. There’s something about his behavior that makes you curious, like you are when you’re trying to solve a complicated equation.
“That’s nice,” he comments.
“So… you’ll be there?” you ask. It’s taken you a long time to come up with that simple question. It often takes you a long time to find things to say to keep a conversation going. You’re pretty bad at it.
“It’s at my fraternity,” Jungkook informs you, glancing at you briefly, and you smile. This is exactly the type of party Jin wanted to go to. He’s probably happy about it. “The entire basketball team should be there.”
“That’s nice,” you say, because you have no idea what to add at this point. Jungkook simply nods, and the conversation dies an awkward death.
It’s another half an hour until Jungkook looks at his watch and starts putting his stuff back in his bag.
“I have to go to practice,” he tells you, clearly in a hurry. “Can we— Would you mind if—”
“We can do this again. If that’s what you meant.”
He gives you a bright smile, and that actually surprises you. He looks relieved that you finished his sentence for him.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely.
And just like that, he’s gone, practically running out of the library. For someone who talks as little as he does, he sure leaves a void when he goes away, you think, looking at the empty chair.
But you quickly shrug it off. You’re used to being alone. You like being alone.
Jungkook isn’t going to change that.
You realize very quickly that, while accompanying Jin to parties was never something you particularly enjoyed, going to this one was downright a mistake.
You have this unspoken rule, with your friends, that you shouldn’t stick together the entire time. You’re supposed to wander off, find something to do for yourself, maybe talk to some people. Get that college experience. You’ve never had a problem to do that, even if you ended up quietly sipping soda in a corner more often than not.
Here, though, you simply cannot shake off the fact that you don’t belong here, that this is not your scene. The people here are loud, energetic, garish. They make you feel like a black and white picture, like a silent movie. You want to run away, but you can’t. You don’t want to leave Jin, Namjoon or Yoongi behind, even if you doubt they’re having the same kind of problems you do. You’re pretty sure you saw Yoongi talking with Jimin, and last time you saw Namjoon, you think a cheerleader was holding him by the hand and leading him out of the room. You don’t know what Jin’s doing, but you’re trusting that he’s okay.
You walk around aimlessly, find Jungkook and Taehyung playing beer-pong with some people. Maybe you should be happy to see people you know, but you’re not. If anything, it only drives the point home even more to see them so comfortable: you don’t belong here. Your chest tightens, and you turn around. You need a little peace and quiet. You need to get away.
You jump at the sound of your name. No one’s said it since you’ve entered the house. No one knows you here.
Except Jungkook, who’s right behind you.
He’s more confident than usual, and you guess, based on his slightly hazy eyes, that it has a lot to do with alcohol.
“Are you having fun? How long have you been here? It’s nice to see you!”
He’s speaking fast, excitedly, and as he does, he runs his fingers through his hair, which he’s let down. It looks good on him, you decide, even as you reply to him with a tense smile.
“Hey, you should join us, we’re—”
“Do you have a closet somewhere?”
There are probably very few things that are less weird than asking a guy if he has a closet you can get into because you’re on the verge of having a panic attack and you can’t stay outside surrounded by people a second longer.
Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it, though. He just leads you through the house and opens the door to a closet for you. You get inside without giving it much more thought, and he looks at you, puzzled. He’s actually looking at you, which you decide confirms that he is drunk.
“Do you— Are you waiting for someone?”
“No,” you say. “I just need a little break.”
He thinks about your answer for a while, probably longer than needed, and nods.
And then, he gets into the closet with you and closes the door.
Inside, it’s dark, with only a ray of light coming in. You can’t see his face, which doesn’t help you understand why he just did that. The space is cramped, and you can smell alcohol coming from his breath, can feel the heat radiating from his body, but it doesn’t bother you that much. It’s still better in here than outside.
“Why did you do that?”
“I thought I would keep you company. Like you’re here to keep company to Jin, you know?”
He’s drunk, definitely, and yet you feel genuinely touched by his words. You shouldn’t, because you doubt they hold that much meaning, but you can’t help it. You don’t need company, but that’s besides the point. His intentions are what matters.
“Thank you,” you say.
“It’s not a problem. You’re helping me with my maths.”
Your first reaction is to laugh at that, because it feels completely unprompted, but then the logic of the reasoning kind of appears to you.
“I mean it!” Jungkook protests. “You haven’t talked about how I’m good at everything or how I’m the one who should help you.”
“You shouldn’t help me. You’re good at maths, but I’m better than you.”
It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh, and just like his earlier smile, it takes you completely by surprise. It’s not one of those quiet laughs that he usually has. It’s light and pleasant, and you briefly wonder what his face looks like when he laughs like that. You kind of want to see it.
“You’re a scary person,” he tells you when he’s stopped laughing. “You always say those things directly. It’s like you don’t even care.”
You’ve heard that before. Well, you haven’t been called scary until now, but people have said that you were intimidating. You, personally, believe you’re the least threatening person to have ever walked this Earth. You couldn’t hurt a fly if you wanted to.
Jungkook makes some sense here, though. Your filter is very limited, and there are a lot of things you say that feel acceptable to you, and that other people… don’t think are acceptable. You don’t mean to do it. It just happens.
“I think you’re good at a lot of things, though,” you say slowly.
Jungkook lets out a long sigh and then you hear him sliding down to the ground. You hesitate for about half a second before joining him down there. You fold your legs, holding your knees against your chest while you wait for him to say something.
“People are always saying that,” he finally mumbles. “But what if I’m not that good? What if I fail one day?”
It’s strange. You understand what he’s saying, understand the feeling of pressure, but you don’t understand the emotions that should come with it. In your case, you know that no one holds you to a higher standard than you do. It can be unhealthy, the way you can torture yourself if you don’t meet the standards you’ve set for yourself, but at least you’re the only one you have to answer to. Obviously, it’s not Jungkook’s case.
“Then you’ll try again,” you say, because that’s what you do when you fail. “Or, if you think it’s not that important, you won’t.”
“But what will they say?” he insists. “What if we lose the next game? Or the one after that? What if I fail a class? I can’t get anything done these days.”
“You’ll be fine,” you say soothingly, half-wondering how you ended up here, comforting the college’s golden boy in a closet after fighting off a panic attack. “It’s not like you’re the only one in your team. People will understand.”
You think they will. You hope they will. They should.
“You would understand.”
It’s true, but then, you really do not care for basketball, and it’s not like you have that sort of expectations for Jungkook. You wouldn’t think much of it, if he failed at something tomorrow. If it was the maths test you’ve helped him with, you would be surprised, but that’s because you saw him studying and it was obvious he had understood everything, not because you think he can inherently succeed at everything he does.
Which you guess might be the heart of the problem here.
You reach out to put your hand on his shoulder. It’s not that easy in the dark, and you wonder for a second if you’ve grabbed something else, until you feel hair tickling your skin. Yup, you were right.
“You have the right not to be good at something every once in a while,” you say softly. “No one can be on top of their game all of the time.”
You hear what sounds like a choked sob.
“I like that they’re counting on me, you know? I like that I’m helping them out by playing. I just— I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”
He said when, not if, and that breaks your heart.
Without thinking about it, you slide your hand down his arm and grab his hand. You squeeze it in yours, gently, and then you inch closer to put your head on his shoulder. You remember reading that physical touch was good for people who were in emotional pain. You hope it helps him.
“You locked yourself in here with me because you thought I needed company,” you whisper. “There’s so much more to you than just being good at sports or having good grades. And if people don’t see that, it’s their loss. Because you’re a great person.”
He hums, but the sound is quiet, and it’s then that you realize how tense he is.
Shit. You must have crossed a boundary. You start to remove your hand, but he closes his fingers around yours, keeping you in place. He’s still tense, you can feel it everywhere his body touches yours. But he doesn’t let go.
“You mean that,” he says. There are so many emotions in his voice that you can’t identify them all. Relief, happiness, amusement… You don’t know where to start.
“I usually mean what I say.”
“I’ve noticed,” he says, and you can hear the smile that’s dancing on his lips.
He’s still not letting go of your hand, but you don’t mind. Staying here, with Jungkook, in this small closet is as good a way of spending your evening as anything else you could do out there.
So you stay.
“Where did you all vanish Saturday?” Jin asks, and Namjoon, Yoongi and yourself immediately find your food a lot more interesting. You exchange panicked glances that mean ‘did none of you stay around? This was poorly coordinated’ before finally daring to look up.
“I talked to Jimin,” Yoongi says, face as inexpressive as always.
“I played some beer-pong with Taehyung,” Namjoon says.
That leaves only you.
“I talked to Jungkook,” you tell Jin. That is technically true. It omits the part where the two of you were together in a closet, but if you said that, there would be a lot of questions you don’t really want to answer to. Somehow, you think you would be more embarrassed to tell them that there was nothing going on there than if you told them you hooked up with him. You’re not sure why.
“Jungkook disappeared for a long time,” Jin says, narrowing his eyes at you.
You do your best to keep a straight face while you poke at your salad. You don’t want anyone here to have the wrong idea, and you finally manage to put your finger on what you’re afraid of. Humiliation. You’d feel humiliated at having to tell them that nothing happened and that there is nothing Jungkook could possibly see in you. They would be nice to you, of course they would, but you don’t want to see the look in their eyes.
“Did he? Maybe that was after I left. I didn’t stay that long.”
That’s a lie.
“Really?” Jin asks, clearly skeptical. “I think I saw you there pretty late.”
Maybe when you went down to get some snacks and drinks to bring back to the closet. Damn Jungkook and his stomach.
“Well, that depends what you mean by ‘late’ and ‘long’,” you say.
That’s you calling Namjoon for help, and he recognizes your SOS for what it is. From the way Jin’s face falls, so does he.
“She’s right,” Namjoon comments, so nonchalant you would almost believe he’s doing it naturally. “What is ‘late’, really? Isn’t it always—”
“Please stop,” Jin groans, burying his face in his hands. “Just because you’re a literature major doesn’t mean you’re the only one who understands words.”
“Actually it does,” you say with a nod. “That’s exactly what it means.”
You start lifting your hand for a high-five, relieved Jin’s attention is off you, but he sends the two of you a dark glare.
“You two are unbearable. Don’t do that.”
“We have to,” you protest. You would hate to miss a chance to high-five Namjoon.
“No you don’t, you—”
“Actually they do,” Yoongi says, and your jaw drops. Yoongi never intervenes, and you had always thought that if he did, it wouldn’t be in your favor. “That’s exactly how gravity works.”
Jin looks like his soul has left his body. He only comes back to himself after you, Yoongi and Namjoon have all exchanged high-fives.
“I hate you,” he says, sounding terribly tired. “I hate every single one of you.”
“Sorry Jin,” you smile warmly.
“No you’re not. You’re the worst.”
Except he sounds fond, affectionate, and you laugh before going back to your salad. You miss the quick glances your three friends exchange after that. They’ve all noticed you eluding and changing the subject. They don’t want to rush you, know you would hate it and that it’s better to drop it.
But they’ve noticed.
Working with Jungkook on Wednesday afternoons easily becomes a habit, so easily you don’t even notice it until it’s something you look forward to during the week. It adds to the time you already spend eating with him and Taehyung. Jungkook is, slowly, starting to become a part of your life. It’s a thought you refuse to dwell on, because it sounds so strange.
The Wednesdays afternoons are something special, though. You and Jungkook don’t really talk at lunch, even if he’s clearly more relaxed around you now, which you suspect is the reason why you’re ‘Taehyung-approved’. On Wednesdays, you— Well, you don’t talk much, either, but it’s different. It’s a time that only belongs to the two of you. You like that.
You slowly find out things about him, his family, his life. It’s never the main subject of conversation, but it makes you feel like you’re solving a puzzle.
“My father wanted me to focus on my classes and forget about basketball,” he comments once. “But I could do both.”
It makes you laugh, because he says it with obvious satisfaction, but it also makes you wonder if there’s more to it. Jungkook doesn’t add anything, though, and you don’t want to probe into his life, so you don’t ask. After that, small pieces of the puzzle keep falling into place.
“My high school coach told me I could train more if I didn’t work so hard for school.” But he could do both.
“My friends said I never hung out with them anymore and that I shouldn’t work so hard.” So he did both.
It’s always the same story. People telling him things, giving him opinions on what the should and shouldn’t do, and him stretching himself thinner and thinner. It’s almost a miracle he’s still doing as well as he is, honestly.
But his tone changes when he talks about his former relationships. He’s usually light and genuine, sharing with you just because. It’s clear that, as much as the stories make you frown, he doesn’t have an issue with them, and you guess that’s all that matters. The first time he says something about an ex-girlfriend of his, though, he’s guarded, almost careful. He sounds like he doesn’t want to tell you.
“My ex said I worked too much.”
He doesn’t add anything. Whatever it was she wanted, he couldn’t do it and work. Didn’t manage to do both. After that, he doesn’t look at you for the rest of the day, like he did when you first met.
You never get a name for the girlfriend. He talks about relationships again, but you don’t even know if he’s always talking about the same one. You doubt it, though, and it only makes things worse.
“My ex wanted me to attend fewer practices.”
“My ex said I didn’t care enough to make time for her.”
“My ex dumped me after I lost a game.”
That last one hurts you, because you remember him crying in the closet because of that exact fear. You want to take his hand again, but you can’t dare to.
“She’s stupid for that,” you say instead.
Jungkook looks surprised first, because you never comment on what he’s telling you, then a smile slowly forms on his lips.
“If the only reason she was with you was because you won a lot of games, you’re better off without her,” you add.
“That’s what Taehyung said.”
Jungkook goes quiet for a little while after that, to the point that you look up, worried that you might have offended him. When you do, he’s looking at you, something you can’t identify shining in his eyes.
He blinks like he’d just woken up for a dream, then nods. He doesn’t tell you that he hadn’t believed what Taehyung said — until you said it and he looked at you and thought that yeah, maybe he was better off without her indeed.
You’re surprised to run into Jungkook late one night, as you’re walking back to your dorm. It shouldn’t shock you — you do go to the same college — but you’re so used to only ever seeing him in the library or the cafeteria that meeting him outside is almost confusing. At least he seems taken aback as well, if the way his already round eyes widen is anything to go by.
Then, his surprised face morphs into a smile, and a wave of warmth hits you without a warning. You don’t get any time to think about it before he waves at you. His shyness is not completely gone, and you see him waver, hesitate, even as he’s walking up to you. You’re quick to close the gap between you, meeting him in the middle. Just in case.
“Hey,” he says, voice a little raspy. He has what you identify as a sports bag, slung over his shoulder, and you wonder what he was doing out so late. You were working at the library until it closed, which is far from being rare for you, but that obviously wasn’t his case.
“Hey,” you reply, smiling back. “Were you— training?”
Amusement flashes in his eyes at the careful way you chose your words, afraid to get it wrong. As he grew more comfortable around you, he also started making fun of you for not knowing the first thing about basketball. Strangely, you don’t mind that much.
“I was at the gym,” he says. “Practice was earlier today.”
“Oh,” is all you can muster. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Should you ask what he was doing at the gym? The answer would only leave you with more questions, you’re sure.
You’re still debating it when Jungkook clears his throat. He reaches for his ponytail and undoes it, shaking his head so the hair fall back into place. The sight is— interesting. Pretty. You’re not sure why you’re so fascinated by it.
“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” he asks, slight concern in his voice. “It’s late.”
“Is it on your way back?” you question, frowning. You would hate to be a bother.
“I’m fine, then. I do that several times a week, I’ve never had a problem.”
That was, apparently, not the thing to say. Jungkook only looks more worried now.
“Several times a week? That’s really not careful.”
“I don’t see a problem, there’s no one around.”
“That’s exactly my p—” He stops and shakes his head, but gives a look you’ve seen before. A lot. It’s a look that says ‘I can’t believe someone as smart as you can also be so stupid’, in those exact terms. “Expected value,” he then says, and your eyes widen a little. Maths! Great. You can do maths. “Let’s say there’s a 99% chance nothing happens. Your gain is still minimal.”
Well, you get to study late and enjoy a walk home alone at night, but you’re willing to humor him.
“But in the one per-cent where something bad happens…”
He doesn’t have to finish his sentence. You know exactly where this is going, and you let out a sigh. He’s not wrong. On that aspect, at least.
He grins widely.
“I just beat you at maths.”
“You didn’t beat me, I—”
“I just beat you at maths!”
You roll your eyes, choose to let him have that. It’s not going to change anything to your behavior after tonight, because the day has not come where you’ll let probabilities rule your life, but, after all, you don’t mind sharing your night walk with him.
Jungkook starts showing up to walk you home whenever he can. It’s not every time, which you’re kind of thankful for — you like his company, but you like being alone just as much, and you need a healthy dose of that every week —, but it does happen regularly. You find him sitting in front of the library, freezing cold, and you take pity on him, buying him a coffee from the vending machine inside, seconds before they lock the building.
That’s how you find out he likes his coffee tasting as little like coffee as possible.
Sometimes, he joins you later, and you hear him jogging to catch up with you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that that defeats the purpose of everything he’s doing, because it’s absolutely terrifying.
As the days turn into weeks, the air becomes colder, and you start seeing Christmas decorations appearing over the campus. You don’t know who is in charge of doing that, but they must be excited about it, because tinsel and few strings of fairy lights start appearing around the campus at the end of November. Jungkook is delighted by it, and you enjoy watching his reactions. You’re not big on Christmas, personally. You enjoy the tradition, the gift-giving, spending time with your family — you’re visiting them briefly this year — but you mostly see Christmas as an excuse for all of that. Jungkook loves it, though, and you decide that his excitement makes you like the season a little more.
“Hey, we should make a stop,” he tells you one night.
You look at him like he’s crazy. It’s the middle of December and it’s already half past nine. You’re cold, it’s dark outside, and you want to go home.
“A stop?” you repeat.
“Oh, c’mon,” he says, and he has that wide, childish grin that you’ve seen only a handful of times. You haven’t learned how to resist it yet. “C’mon!”
You sigh. But you follow.
As it turns out, he takes you just a little way off your usual trajectory. Behind a building you’ve never really paid attention to, Jungkook leads you to a small basketball court. You eye the place suspiciously. It’s empty, well lit, but you never know. A ball might come out of nowhere to hit you in the face, as they had a tendency to do when you were in high school and playing for a team that had picked you last.
By the time you turn around to tell Jungkook that, okay, you’ve seen it, let’s go home now, he’s taken off his coat and pulled a basketball out of his bag. You don’t even want to ask. His grin is even wider than earlier.
“C’mon,” he says.
“Let me show you, okay?”
You want to say no but— It can’t hurt, right? And Jungkook loves basketball, and you’re his— friend or something, so you should try to take some interest in it.
You take off your coat and let him lead you onto the court. There, you watch him as he dribbles in what you guess is an effective way (you can’t know for sure, you’re barely able to catch the ball after it’s bounced once so your standards are incredibly low), and then demonstrates his ability to score a handful of times. It’s not that you’re not impressed — again, you can’t do anything with this unpredictable, devilish round thing — but you also can’t say this is a quality you think much of.
You liked it a lot better when he convinced you to let him walk you home by talking about the expected value.
“You want to try?” he offers, holding the ball out for you.
You would rather die.
But you take the ball from his hand and eye the basket like it’s personally offended you. That makes Jungkook laugh.
“You can get closer than that,” he says.
You hold back a groan, aim and, of course, fail. It’s almost a relief. You can cross that off your list, again, just like you did as a kid first, then as a teenager. You’re bad at sports, always have been and, considering the effort you’re putting into it those days, always will be. That’s something you can count on.
Before you can say anything, Jungkook’s caught the ball and is running back towards you.
“Okay, let me show you.”
Is he going to— No, he’s just demonstrating it. You’re kind of disappointed not to get your typical ‘guy teaching girl anything sports related’ moment, disappointed that he doesn’t come to stand behind you to show you like they do in movies, but you can’t unpack that right now. You do watch with some degree of interest as he shows you how to position yourself.
“So you really aim for the line above the basket, not the basket, okay?”
“If you think that just because I aim for something I hit it…”
He chuckles, then gives the ball back to you, and you sigh. This. This is why you hate sports. It’s not the one-off failure, that would be fine on its own. It’s the constant humiliation whenever you even try it. You’re going to fail this attempt, and the next one, and the one after that. You’re a lost cause. You’re fine with it, too, but you don’t particularly want to go through that again.
You do your best, though. Not because you think it will change something, but because you kind of want to prove that this isn’t all you. That, even if you’re trying your hardest, there’s just something that refuses to let you score or do it right.
“Wait!” Jungkook walks over to you, puts his hand on your back, and you freeze. “You need to straighten yourself a little,” he says, placing his hand between your shoulder blades, and you nod. His hand is warm and large, you can feel it even over your sweatshirt. “There.”
He removes the hand, and you’re left a little off balance without him by your side. You shake your head quickly, shoot, and, without any surprise, miss.
Jungkook is on the ball just as fast as before, but you’re as quick as him to grab your coat and put it back on. You’re already feeling warm all over, though.
“You don’t want to try again?” he asks, sounding genuinely disappointed.
Of course, you take pity on him.
“Maybe next time,” you say.
He gives you a bright smile, so genuinely happy, and you know that you won’t be able to deny him next time either.
Jin is the reason you’re here, and that is the version you will stick with. No, you didn’t want to go see a basketball game, even if Jungkook is playing. No, you didn’t feel the slightest bit curious about it. No, you would not be there if Jin hadn’t asked. It’s Jin’s fault if you’re here on a Friday night instead of being, well, at your place, likely doing something equally as unproductive.
You don’t even understand what is going on in the field. There’s a lot of running and throwing the ball, that’s for sure, but then, you’ve just learned that scoring from different places in the field and at different moments will not earn the players the same amount of points.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen your friends look at you with such consternation as when they had to explain it to you.
In that situation, you can’t say that you get much from looking at the field. You definitely follow Jungkook with your eyes, cheer and clap when he scores, and let out cries of disappointment with the rest of the crowd when he doesn’t, but truly, the only way you have any idea what’s going on is by looking at the score board. And the truth is, that score is a little too close for comfort.
You hate that it has that much of an impact on you, but it stresses you out. Your leg bounces on the floor, an habit of yours Jin hates, but he’s too focused to notice, which is only more stressful. Jin always notices, and if it doesn’t, it must mean that the situation is dire.
The remaining seconds are slowly ticking down. Jungkook’s team is ahead by only one point, which means that if the other team scores, they will win. You think. You’re not entirely sure, but for your defense, you’ve just heard about it. Jungkook seems to be everywhere on the field. Taehyung is his shadow, perhaps not as noticeable or as spectacular in his actions, but certainly effective.
Again, you have no knowledge of basketball whatsoever.
Jin grabs your thigh, and only then do you realize that something’s happened. The action was so quick, so smooth, that you missed it entirely — but maybe you were also kind of thinking of something else.
Someone from the other team — you don’t even know your school’s team’s players, you’re not going to learn the other ones — just made a break for it. Based on what you can tell, Taehyung blocked his path, pushing him straight into Jungkook’s arms. In a movement you cannot begin to comprehend, Jungkook takes the ball from him, without ever stopping his run.
After that, he’s unstoppable.
He crosses the field, looking almost like he’s dancing in the way he avoids his opponents, and, of course, scores.
The time falls to zero. The crowd stands up like one man, screaming and shouting, and you yourself find yourself jumping up to hug Jin. He hugs you back, but the two of you quickly separate, patting each other’s backs awkwardly.
Jin starts talking with Namjoon and Yoongi, but you tune them out — it’s not like you understand what they’re saying anyway — to look at the field. The players have lifted Jungkook on their shoulders and he’s laughing, holding on to them so he doesn’t fall, and you grin.
“Come on,” Jin says, “let’s go congratulate him!”
That sounds like a terrible idea, you think. You won’t be the only ones, as the crowd has already invaded the field, and you doubt you’ll be able to get very close.
You still follow him. You alternate between clinging to his arm and to his shoulders so you don’t lose him, and trust him to elbow his way through the crowd. You hear him apologizing profusely in front of you, but he does not stop. Slowly, you make it down. Once you’re off the stairs, people are not as compactly gathered, and you can just walk between them. Jin grins at you, and you give him a thumbs up. Yeah, he did good here. You can give him that.
“Hey, Jungkook!” he calls out.
Jungkook was talking with some girls, but he looks up at the sound of his name, excuses himself, and jogs towards the two of you.
And it is then, in the few seconds it takes him to get to you, that it hits you. Like a ton of bricks.
You had known that Jungkook was objectively attractive, of course. There was no ignoring that. But Jin was objectively attractive, too, and that had never changed anything between the two of you. With Jungkook, right now, it does. His skin is glistening with sweat, and he wipes his chin with his shirt, and oh no, you can see his well-defined biceps and the line of his abs, and some hair is escaping from his ponytail, and he’s grinning with a happy, proud smile, and his eyes are shining and—
Jungkook is hot. That’s your realization. You had been aware of it, technically, but it’s like it only clicks for you at that exact moment.
“You came,” he tells you with a bright smile, and you can feel your entire face heating up. You pray that it’s not visible.
“Yeah,” you squeak out. “Great, um, great game?”
It sounds like an interrogation because you have no idea if it was one. It looked difficult, but maybe that was because they played terribly today. You don’t know that.
Jungkook’s smile widens a little, and you know that he has you all figured out. He knows you don’t understand the first thing about this whole thing.
“Thanks,” he still says.
His chest is still heaving quickly, and it draws your attention to his— his everything. The way he’s leaning towards you as he’s trying to catch his breath doesn’t help either. You wait for Jin to say something, to save you, but when you look around, you realize the traitor has abandoned you completely.
Okay, he hasn’t technically abandoned you, he’s just gone to congratulate Taehyung, but it’s the same difference.
You hear someone else calling Jungkook’s name before you’ve figured out what to say. He looks around, then gives you an apologetic look.
“No problem, you should— I have to go anyway.”
This is not like you. You’re an awkward person, and you struggle in social situations, but you don’t usually trip over your words like that. You kind of hate it.
“Okay, so, um, I’ll see you…?”
“Wednesday, yeah. Or— before. At lunch. If you’re there.”
This is terrible.
“Okay.” Jungkook gives you one last smile, and then he’s off, and you’re standing alone in the middle of a crowd. Your chest is heavy and it feels painful.
You hate this.
It’s only after that that you start realizing how big of a part Jungkook now plays in your life. He walks you home at night sometimes. You eat with him once or twice a week. You study together for an entire afternoon on Wednesdays. He’s just— everywhere. And it’s not that it’s a bad thing, because the feeling you get when you see him is a pleasant one, but it is disconcerting. It’s something that you have no control over whatsoever and that’s not— that’s not good for you.
You realize how much attention you were already paying to him, too, which is even more annoying. The signs were there. You should have understood this sooner. If you had, maybe you could have prevented it.
Because that’s the thing. You know the situation is ridiculous. You believe Jungkook sees you as a friend, and you’re happy with that, but there is no way he thinks of you as anything else. That is not an idea you should even begin to entertain. You can handle rejection, you’re used to it in so many aspects, though it’s rarely romantic, but you cannot take getting your hopes up only for them to be crushed.
The thing is, you can’t help it at this point, can’t force your feelings back in. There is so much to like about him. The way he plays with his hair, the quiet laughs when he’s in public, the loud ones when he’s walking you home, the sparkle in his eyes when he asks you a question in maths and it turns out he already had it right, the look on his face when he talks about basketball,… There’s so much.
You briefly consider avoiding him, but that’s not really an option. You like being his friend. You see your feelings as annoying, pesky little things that have no business being there in the first place. You don’t even hate the rush that goes through you when you see him, the way just looking at him brings a smile to your lips that you simply can’t hold back.
But you really, really hate the wishful thinking. The hope.
The feelings are fine, as long as you don’t think too hard about it. As long as he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Because that would break your heart.
And it’s only a matter of time before that happens.
You really considered declining when Jin asked you to come to this New Year’s party. Your last experience had effectively convinced you that those new parties he was getting invited to were not for you. That was fine, to each their own, but that did mean you didn’t really want to go. He clearly didn’t need you there anyway. You didn’t even know why he asked.
But he did, and he insisted, and he gave you his best puppy eyes, and that’s the thing about Jin: he’s very, very good at giving puppy eyes.
So that’s why you’re there, wearing a red dress that’s way too flashy for you, leaning against a wall and staring into the void. You feel empty and, though you’re not alone, lonely. You’re surrounded by strangers, and there are people everywhere in the house, but you don’t know them, and you can’t just start a conversation with them. It’s not something you do, it’s not even something you want.
You haven’t felt the urge to lock yourself inside a closet yet, though, so you guess that’s an improvement compared to last time.
Looking around, you can see Jimin, perched on the counter, listening to Yoongi talk with a smile on his face. Jin is somewhere else in the room and, though you can’t see him, you sometimes hear him, so you know he has his flirting voice on. Namjoon is nowhere to be seen, but that’s probably a good sign. He always get lucky at those parties. You don’t know how he does it. It’s impressive, honestly. Hoseok showed up earlier, and everyone greeted him like he was a star — which is kind of accurate, actually, at the campus’ scale.
You know, of course, that Jungkook and Taehyung, as inseparable as ever, are by the pool table. You also hate that you know it, because now your mind is constantly wondering if it’s weird that you haven’t been there yet, or if it would be weird to show up. Neither, probably, because exactly no one cares except for you, but you’re the master of torturing yourself with useless considerations.
God, you hate having a crush. It’s just so— unpractical. You also hate that you didn’t see that one coming, and that you didn’t do anything about it until it was too late. Usually, you’re pretty good at nipping those kinds of feelings in the bud. Now, you can only wait it out.
With a sigh, you push yourself away from the wall to wander aimlessly around the house. You promised Jin you’d stay until midnight, and you intend to keep that promise. It’s not like there’s anything for you to do, but still, that way you can look like you’re doing something and look a little less weird. Or maybe you don’t. It doesn’t really matter anyway.
Passing in front of the room with the pool table, you realize that Jungkook is gone. Taehyung is still there, playing with Hoseok, both looking pretty wasted, but Jungkook has vanished. That’s not good. You don’t want him to spring up on you out of nowhere like he did last time. You won’t know how to react if that happens, probably fumble for words, and it will be very unpleasant and very embarrassing for everyone.
You consider finding another closet, then decides against it. There’s just fifteen minutes left until midnight, anyway. That’s not too long. You can just wait it out.
You slowly make your way through the house. No sign of Jungkook anywhere. Maybe he left. Maybe he’s already back to the pool table and you missed him completely. Maybe he’s locked himself in a room with a girl and—
Oh you hate this. You hate feeling jealous. You hate that you have no control over it, you hate that it makes you sad, you hate that you have no right to feel like that. Jungkook isn’t yours. He’s probably even considered you for anything. You should consider yourself lucky you’re even friends with him in the first place.
You do your best to push everything out of your mind. Alcohol has never looked more tempting, but you don’t want the hangover with the morning, so you ignore the inviting bottles of beer and walk out.
It’s freezing — of course it’s freezing, it’s December you idiot, is there anything you can do right tonight — and you shiver, but you stay there. The cold is both numbing and soothing, and while you’re mentally complaining about it, you’re not thinking about anything else, so that’s good.
The door opens and closes behind you, and you guess someone is coming out to smoke. You move over to give them some space, but just as you do that, a jacket falls over your shoulders. You jump at first, and then the warmth makes you sigh in relief.
“You shouldn’t go out without a coat,” Jungkook says, because of course it’s him.
“I feel that you’ve been scolding me a lot recently,” you chuckle, glancing up at him.
He pouts, buries his hands in his pockets. He’s obviously cold as well, but at least his shirt covers his arms.
It also hugs his muscles real nice, but that’s besides the point.
“That’s because you make very poor decisions,” he mutters, looking at his feet. “You have to realize that.”
“You’re right. I could have taken my coat outside.”
“You know that walking back all alone in the middle of the night is way worse,” he protests, and then you laugh, because that’s exactly what you wanted, and he goes quiet for a second. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbles, looking away from you again.
“I’m not,” you say, and you take a step in his direction so you can bump your shoulder against his. “You shouldn’t worry that much, but I think it’s nice that you do. I was just trying to get a rise out of you.”
“That worked really well,” he says, and he sounds surprised about it. You wonder if it’s because he usually doesn’t get angry for stuff, but you can’t tell for sure. “Hey, you—”
People start shouting numbers inside, and you turn around to look at them.
“It’s midnight,” you say.
You look up at Jungkook. He’s significantly taller than you. Not as much as Namjoon, but still.
Jungkook looks back at you, smiles, and it takes your breath away. His hair looks very good like that, you think absent-mindedly, with the way it falls on either side of his face.
It’s too late to go back inside now. It would definitely be a weird thing to do. Which means you’re here, alone, with Jungkook.
Your eyes flicker to his lips. You wonder what it would be like to kiss them. You haven’t let yourself even consider it before, but right now your brain isn’t functioning all that well. Probably because of how loud your heart is beating in your chest.
You look back up and his eyes are wide and focused on you. There’s that same tension in his shoulders as when you first met him, except, back then, he couldn’t look at you, and now it seems that he can’t look away.
“Happy new year!”
You decide you shouldn’t think about your next move. You get on your tiptoes to plant a kiss at the corner of his lips, right at the border between friends and something else, but he leans forward right at that moment, and his hands cup your face, and then he’s kissing you.
It’s like an explosion. You don’t know what you should focus on. How warm he is, how soft and large his hands are, how his lips move against yours, how he tastes, or simply the fact that he’s kissing you, Jungkook is kissing you!
The door slams open, and the two of you move away in a jump.
“Happy new year Jungkook!” Taehyung shouts, obviously drunk, soon joined by several other members of the basketball team. If he’s seen what happened, he doesn’t say anything, and you doubt Taehyung would have that kind of control over himself.
Soon, Jungkook is surrounded and they start to drag him back inside. He gives you a brief, apologetic look, then follows them, laughing. You remain there, frozen, unsure of what to do. You take a hesitant step towards the door, only to see a girl planting kisses on his cheeks while he blushes. What gets to you, though, is the arm he’s wrapped around her, the way he’s tracing circles on the naked skin of her shoulder. It makes the gesture look… intimate. Personal.
You let out a brief, bitter laugh, that there is fortunately no one to hear. You feel confused, but mostly, you feel stupid.
It doesn’t take long for you to drop the jacket onto a chair and find your coat. You wish a happy new year to Namjoon, when you pass by him on your way out, and he looks a little surprised, like he hasn’t heard the shouting. You don’t want to know what he could have been up to.
You’ve kept your end of the bargain, you think as you leave. Jin won’t be able to complain to you. You feel some petty sort of satisfaction when you step outside and find yourself alone alone, finally. You like this. You like being alone. You’ve never asked for anything else.
You give one last look to the party, then vanish into the night. You’re better off on your own anyway.
“I don’t think I’ll be coming,” you say, nonchalantly, as everyone around the table is talking animatedly about a party for the next week-end.
You had hoped it would go unnoticed in the middle of the conversation, but, unfortunately, that doesn’t go as planned. Taehyung turns horrified eyes towards you, Jin, Namjoon and Yoongi all look surprised, and Jungkook… You don’t know how to read him. There’s that surprise, as well, but then he looks down before you can tell anything else. Not that that changes much. He’s barely looked at you today.
You haven’t talked to him since New Year’s Eve. You had other things on your mind, and then he didn’t show up at the library last Wednesday.
“What do you mean, you won’t be coming?” Jin asks. “You always come to parties.”
You shrug. You don’t miss the alarmed looks your friends are exchanging, and you’re sure Namjoon can see through you. Because it’s not like you to do something like that, whatever reason you may give.
“I don’t like them. They’re too loud, and I can’t say that I really enjoy standing alone for half the night.”
“You could stay with us,” Namjoon offers.
“And watch you pick up a girl every time? No thank you,” you reply with a disgusted shiver.
“You could stay with me,” Yoongi says.
You give him a look, and he grimaces, backing down immediately. Okay. He can see why you wouldn’t want that either. Plus he’s pretty sure that Jimin and him are about to get it on after weeks of flirting, so it’s probably not a great idea.
“What about me?” Jin asks. He doesn’t sound as energetic as usual, his voice almost quiet, and you realize that he probably feels bad because of what you said. He knows you come to those parties because of him, so knowing you don’t have fun at all when you’re attending — you understand that he might feel responsible.
“I think I would bore you very quickly,” you chuckle. “You’re not going to get the fun you want with me. But it’s fine, really. I tried it, and now I know it’s not for me. I can just—”
“No,” Taehyung says.
“I’m taking this personally,” he tells you, looking you dead in the eye. “You’re coming to this party and I’m going to make you enjoy yourself.”
You’ve never seen him so serious, and you can’t help it. You burst out laughing.
“Taehyung,” you say softly when you’re done. “I appreciate that, I do, but I don’t want to do that anymore.”
Taehyung opens his mouth, then winces and closes it. You’re not sure what happened there, but he gives Jungkook an offended look.
“I’m sorry,” you add. “I’m sure your parties can be great, but—”
“I get it,” he sighs. “But you owe me.”
You’re not sure why, but fine.
“And you can’t say anything bad about those parties, to anyone. Ever.” In that moment, he looks almost threatening, and you blink, confused. He can’t possibly take it that seriously, can he?
Then he yelps and rubs his leg. He gives Jungkook another annoyed look, but Jungkook doesn’t even look up from his food.
“Leave her alone,” he just mumbles.
Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t add anything. He does give you a long, pointed glance, though, before muttering under his breath something that sounds a lot like “I won’t let that slander stand,” and you think that’s hilarious too.
When you risk a glance at Jungkook, his arms are folded over his chest, and he looks deep in thought. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes focused on his meal, though he’s not touching it. It’s stupid, but the image of a child that has just been scolded flashes in your mind.
“Jungkook? Is everything alright?”
He jumps at your question, looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes meet, but it’s extremely brief, and your chest tightens. This sucks. You thought the two of you had gotten past that now, and you hate that you lost what you had. It’s not like it’s your fault. He kissed you, and then he bailed on you first chance he got. Why would he do that, why would he risk it, if he was going to react like that afterwards?
“I’m fine,” he says with a tense smile, and you doubt it’s true, but you don’t know what you should ask him to confront him about it. You don’t want to talk about the kiss ever again. You certainly don’t want to do it in front of your friends.
So you jump on the first chance you get to leave the table. You don’t ask yourself if it’s a weird thing to do. It probably is, but fuck it, you’re weird, and everyone else can deal with it. You refuse to subject yourself to something unpleasant longer than absolutely necessary.
Except the looks you get are mostly concerned ones, from Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook does look up as you walk away, eyes following you almost longingly, and then he lets out a long sigh that catches Taehyung’s attention. He doesn’t say anything, but he narrows his eyes at him.
God. He really has to get everything done here, doesn’t he?
At first, you think that this is it. Your— your whatever it was that you had with Jungkook is over. You’ll see him around every now and then, and maybe he’ll give you a polite nod, though it doesn’t look like he would even do that right now, but there won’t be anything else. You’ll go back to being basically strangers, and it will be fine, because really, nothing happened there, right? You had a crush on him, he kissed you once, and then nothing. It’s fine. You’ll be fine.
Sure, it makes you a little sad. Sure, you catch yourself looking at him while he’s surrounded by girls who are all so much better for him than you ever were, and it hurts a little. Sure, walking back home alone at night is a little more unpleasant than it used to be, but that’s the thing. It’s only a little. You would almost pat yourself on the back for it. Congrats, (Y/N). You made it out before you got too attached. You probably avoided a world of hurt.
Because you know. You know that if you had gotten in too deep, it would have hurt like hell to not have Jeon Jungkook. And sure, it hurts right now.
But only a little.
You’re good. You’re safe. You know that Namjoon and Yoongi would nod if you told them about it. They understand, in a way a lot of other people don’t. You don’t think that Jin would, for example. He would tell you to take the risk, not understanding that people like Jungkook used to pick you last for their teams when you were in high school, not understanding that as far as you’re concerned, you’ve handled more than enough rejection throughout your life. But Namjoon and Yoongi… They’re definitely more successful than you in matters of the heart, but they would still understand. Not that you’re going to tell them about it, because it’s a stupid story, because there never was anything there, and because you’d feel really dumb talking about how you thought, how you hoped that— You’re not going to tell them anything. At least everything’s okay now.
And then, Jungkook appears at your usual table at the library on a Wednesday afternoon. He drops his bag on the floor and takes a seat next to you. You’re surprised to see him when you look up, too focused on your studies to notice him approaching. He has big, wide doe eyes, and he watches your reaction carefully.
“You’re— This seat isn’t taken?”
You shake your head. No. People rarely come here, and you don’t really study with people. Well, didn’t, you suppose.
“Do you mind if I sit here?“
“The seat’s free. You can take it if you want.”
You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to react. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You never considered that Jungkook would— That he would—
“I, um, I like studying with you. It helps me focus,” he says, eyes flickering away from you. “So, if you don’t mind I’ll— Can I come back here on Wednesdays?”
You want to tell him that you can’t stop him, that he can do whatever the hell he want, but even though it’s on the tip of your tongue, you don’t.
“Of course you can,” you say instead.
Jungkook looks up long enough to flash you a smile, and you know. This isn’t over, and you’re not going to be fine. You’re probably going to feel crushed, sooner than later, and you could have stopped it all right now.
You think about Yoongi and how not like him it is to be doing what he is with Jimin. How he’s taking a risk. How it could oh so easily not have paid off.
It’s going to, of course. You just need to look at Jimin’s eyes when he’s talking to Yoongi to know that. But Jungkook doesn’t look at you like that. Jungkook doesn’t look at you at all.
And yet here you are. Taking that exact same risk.
God. You can be so stupid some times.
Jungkook glances at you quickly while you’re deep in thought, tapping your pencil against your cheek, and a small smile forms on his lips. He’s quick to glance away, because he would hate it if you caught him, of course, but the smile doesn’t fade.
He couldn’t have forced it to do so if he tried.
“You have to come to the next game.”
“Taehyung, hey, nice to see you to, I’m doing fine, I—”
“I’m serious, (Y/N). I know you hate basketball and everything that breathes, but—”
“I don’t hate you.”
“—this is really important and— Wait, really? Thank you. I feel that means a lot coming from you.”
“Is that how you see me? I don’t hate everyone, Taehyung.”
“Can you give me a list of people you don’t hate?”
“Well, you, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon…”
“…Sure. Jungkook. Why do you want me to come to the next game?”
“Because we might lose.”
“And I’m supposed to change that how?”
“You owe me, remember?”
“I— Because of the parties? Seriously? I need to sit through hours of you guys running after a ball because I don’t like parties?”
“I would really appreciate it if you could avoid describing basketball as ‘guys running after a ball’.”
“I would really appreciate not having to go watch the game.”
“Don’t you want to support your friends on the team?”
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll be there. Just— stop that thing you’re doing with your eyebrows. Why are you even doing that?”
“You’re so slow. How are you so slow? I thought you were supposed to be smart!”
“Just be there!”
“Or what, what will you— Taehyung! You can’t just run off like— Well. I guess he could.”
You hadn’t thought sitting through a basketball game could become a more painful experience to you than it already was. As it turns out, you were wrong. It was so much worse when the people you wanted to win were losing. Despite yourself, you found yourself getting invested, standing up and shouting encouragements along with Jin and Namjoon, and protesting loudly when things didn’t go your way.
You were not cut out for this. Not because you still didn’t understand half the rules — you could have by now if you had made the effort of memorizing them — but because of the stress. God, how did your friends handle that regularly? How did the players handle it? You kept looking at Jungkook. You could tell how unhappy he was with the situation, could see the disappointment settling in. He also seemed to get more nervous as time went by, which didn’t help his performance, and his words kept echoing in your mind.
”I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”
You’re half way through the game and things are not looking good when Taehyung waves you over. You run to the railway, straining to hear him, and when you finally understand what he’s saying, you regret making any effort at all.
“You can’t possibly be serious!”
But he is.
“You owe me, (Y/N)!”
“I’m already— What’s it even going to do?”
“Trust me on that one, okay?”
You glare at him, but he’s looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes, and there’s nothing you can do against that. You sigh deeply. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest just thinking about what he’s asking you to do. Maybe it’s not such a big deal for him, that sort of stuff, but for you— For you it’s downright insane to even consider.
“Kim Taehyung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, “if this goes bad, I’ll kill you and plant your head on a stick outside of my door to warn my enemies not to underestimate me.”
He has the audacity to shrug at that.
“It won’t go bad.”
You look up. Take a deep breath. And call Jungkook’s name.
The gym is insanely loud, and it takes both you and Taehyung’s efforts, as well as a lot of waving, for Jungkook to notice you. When he does, though, he runs towards you, worry obvious on his face. He’s looking directly at you for once, and the intensity of his stare almost makes you shiver.
“Is everything alright?” he asks when he gets there, eyes scanning you quickly to make sure that you’re okay.
“It’s fine, I just—”
“What are you doing here? You hate basketball. Did something happen?”
You shake your head. You don’t know how you’re supposed to do this, especially when he’s looking so puzzled and when he’s questioning your sanity for showing up at one of his games. You glance over at Taehyung who gives you a decided nod.
Ah. Fuck it.
Leaning over about as far as you can go, you cup Jungkook’s face, and as his expression turns to one of surprise, you kiss him. If people around notice or have a reaction, you can’t tell, because Jungkook pushes himself against you and buries his hand in your hair as he holds you. There’s not much space left for thinking in your mind, instead entirely consumed by thoughts of him. He’s completely sober this time, and you don’t taste alcohol on his tongue. He’s also not going as slow, almost desperately kissing you back, one strong hand supporting you so you don’t fall over, and you just melt.
It takes everything in you to push yourself away. When you do, you’re breathless, and he’s staring at you with eyes even wider than usual. You’re pretty sure Taehyung would want you to give an encouraging speech right now, but you don’t want to do that right now.
“I really don’t care if you’re winning or losing games,” you say instead. “If you’re sad, I’ll be sad with you, but it’s never going to change anything in how I see you. But I’ll be here encouraging you.”
He grabs your hand, squeezing it tight.
“Promise?” he asks, almost childishly.
You’re not sure which part he’s referring to, but they’re all true, so you nod.
He smiles, and then both him and Taehyung are running back across the field and getting yelled at by their coach, but even from where you’re standing, you can see their smiles.
You guess that means you’re not going to murder Taehyung.
“This is actually insane. How is Jungkook even doing that?” Yoongi asks in disbelief after Jungkook scored extremely impressively yet again, and you fidget in your seat. You’re very happy to see that, though you don’t how you feel about the smug looks Taehyung is sending you, but you don’t want—
“It’s the power of love,” Jin says, nodding like he just gave an essential truth to the meaning of life.
—this. You, very specifically, don’t want this.
“Jin,” you sigh, “there’s no such thing as—”
“Actually,” Namjoon interrupts you, “I think he’s right. The power of love is a thing, and I think this is a perfect demonstration of it.”
You gape at him, in shock. He betrayed you?
“Did you just—”
“Namjoon’s right,” Yoongi nods. “This is how the power of love works. You take love, and you turn it into strength.”
And then, him, Jin and Namjoon high five, and you gasp. Traitors. All of them.
But after that, Jimin says off-handedly “Maybe you should come and kiss me before my next competition” and Yoongi’s brain visibly stops functioning, so you consider yourself avenged.
After the match, you wait for Jungkook outside of the locker room. Jin insisted you should go celebrate on the field, but you had declined. It felt like the situation required something a little more private, so now you’re here, leaning against the wall, looking at your phone so you’ll seem busy, even if there’s nothing on there to occupy yourself.
You’re not the only one there, and that doesn’t help soothing your nerves. There are a lot of girls, all pretty and smiling. It makes you feel like a groupie, and you don’t like it. You’re relieved for a second when the door opens and the team comes out, but it doesn’t last long, because the girls are soon surrounding them. You remain where you were standing, watching the whole thing happen. It takes a few moments before you notice Jungkook’s bun standing out of the group, and it makes you smile.
You catch Taehyung’s eye first, and, after you’ve sent him a glare that you hope was threatening, he pushes Jungkook out of the group. At first, he seems confused, before he finally finds you. You wave at him hesitantly. He blinks a few times, his eyes wide, then walks towards you.
“Hey,” he says when he joins you. He’s towering over you. Usually, you don’t like that, and you’ve complained about having to look up at Namjoon more than once, but you don’t necessarily mind right now.
“Hey,” you reply.
Silence stretches between the two of you as you try to think of something to say. You should have prepared a speech, you know that, but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t have been able to say it either.
“Taehyung told me he told you to kiss me,” Jungkook blurts out after a while, looking away from you, and you give him a surprised glance. “So, you don’t have to—”
“No, I wanted to kiss you,” you interrupt him, a puzzled frown forming on your face.
Jungkook’s head whips back towards you, and you just stare at him in confusion.
“Do you really think I would have kissed you just because Taehyung asked me to?”
“Well you— you came to the game because he asked you to, right?”
“That’s not the same—”
“Jungkook!” someone from the team calls. “We’re going to grab a bite to celebrate, do you wanna come?”
Jungkook sighs, then gives you a sharp look.
“You wanted to kiss me,” he repeats.
You bite your lower lip, and you’re not oblivious to the way his eyes fall to your mouth when you do.
“And I’m the blunt one,” you mumble.
“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just— I wanted to kiss you because I like you. Obviously.”
Jungkook swallows, and you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He looks over his shoulder at his friends.
“You can go without me!”
There are some protests, but he ignores them to give you his entire attention. It’s… not an unpleasant feeling.
“You disappeared after I kissed you the last time,” he says.
“You left,” you protest immediately. “You kissed me, and then the second your friends arrived, you acted like nothing happened and you left.”
“I didn’t want to— I just— They’re really annoying about that stuff, you know? I thought it would probably be better if I talked to you after— ‘m sorry. I didn’t— didn’t realize it—”
You look at Jungkook, watch him fumbling for words, and it hits you like a ton of bricks, how much you do like him. Those words really don’t do it justice, and maybe you’re not quite ready to talk about love just yet, but you like him so much, so much it makes your heart swell, so much you don’t think what what he’s trying to tell you would change anything to it, and yet what he’s trying to say is exactly what prompts your realization. He didn’t want to hurt you. Wanted this to be private, for just the two of you, wanted to see how you felt about it. And maybe he went the wrong way about it, but it means everything that he was trying.
“Walk me home?” you ask.
Jungkook finally stops his rambling.
“Are you sure?”
Of course, he has to ask that now, after weeks of trying to convince him to let you walk on your own. Still, you smile and nod, and when you start walking side by side, you grab his hand. He freezes temporarily before grinning and squeezing your hand, pulling it into his pocket so you won’t be too cold, because the air of January is chilling.
“Congratulations for the game,” you say after a long, comfortable silence. You had almost forgotten about it.
“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I had some help.”
And then, he winks at you, and your heart misses a beat. That’s when you understand something you hadn’t even considered before: if Jungkook stops being shy around you, you’re done for. You’ll be the one constantly flustered.
“So,” you say, slowly, trying to keep yourself composed, “why did you kiss me?”
“Um. Same as you?” Jungkook’s confidence disappears, and he returns to his awkward self, and you see that, as much as you like it, you want him to be comfortable around you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him a little.
“What do you mean by that?” you ask innocently.
He gives you a horrified look that soon turns to an offended one when he notices you grinning widely.
“You’re so mean,” he says, but he’s smiling too, “you’re the meanest person I know.”
You’re laughing at that point, as you stop in front of your dorm.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I kissed you because I like you.”
It’s funny. You knew that was what he was going to say, knew it was coming, and yet it gets to you all the same.
“With you, I don’t feel like I have to be the school’s star, you know? I can just be— Jungkook. You don’t expect me to be anything else.”
He’s right. You like Jungkook. With his insecurities and his flaws. You don’t want him to perform for you, and you don’t care what he’s doing right and wrong. Just studying maths in the library with him makes you happy.
He eyes your dorm and takes a deep breath.
“I should go,” he says.
“Yes, it would be a really bad idea if you came up tonight.”
But you’re not letting go of his hand, and he’s close to you now, close enough that you can feel his breath catching in his throat. It makes you smile.
“You’re so mean,” he repeats.
This time, instead of laughing, you kiss him, and it’s completely different from the two previous times. There is no uncertainty in this kiss, no surprise, no pressure, no fear. It’s perfect. Jungkook’s hand comes to cup your cheek, his lips soft against your own. His long fingers gently stroke your jaw as he keeps the kiss chaste and sweet. It only makes you yearn for more and when he moves away, you can see in his eyes that he wants more as well.
You just don’t think he wants it now.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” you ask.
“I’ll meet you for lunch,” he says solemnly, and it rings like a promise, which makes you smile.
When you move away, though, he doesn’t let go of you, and a pouty expression appears on his face before he releases you.
“I— Yeah. You should go.”
“You can come up if you want to, you know?”
He hesitates, rolls his lips together.
“I want to savor this,” he admits to you in a near whisper.
“Then I’ll go.”
“Yes. Good night.”
You feel light and giddy as you walk through the door. It’s a nice and strange feeling, like you could just start floating any second.
You already can’t wait for the next day.
People are definitely weirded out by your relationship with Jungkook. Or, rather, by Jungkook’s relationship with you. You’re pretty sure most of the people who give you weird looks when you sit next to him and he wraps his arm around you, or when you walk hand in hand, wouldn’t pay attention to you if you went to class naked. But they all know who Jungkook is, and you guess it is weird to see you in conjunction with him.
They could ignore it and consider you mere part of the scenery when he ate with you, you suppose, but it is harder to do now. You’re not too fond of being the center of attention, to be honest. You don’t know how Jungkook does it.
What takes you by surprise the most is people being nice to you. That confuses you to no end, because you know for a fact they don’t care about you, not really, and you cannot fathom what they think they’re going to get out of this. You’re pretty sure there are a girl or two who are doing that to get closer to Jungkook, and some, you think, have decided to be nice to you because they think that if Jungkook likes you, you can’t be a total lost cause.
You don’t like that feeling. Not at all. You don’t like it when you’re going to class, you don’t like it during lunch, and you definitely, definitely do not like it when people rush towards you the second you get to a party.
Yeah, you’re giving Taehyung what he wanted, in the end. He said that both you and Jungkook owed him, because without him you wouldn’t be together, and you eventually gave in.
You thought it would be fine, now that you have someone to spend time with, but you understand with horror that your status has changed now. You’re not invisible anymore. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriendTM. Because of that, you spend much longer in the entrance making small talk than you would have wished to, and you’re stopped a couple of times while you’re desperately looking for your boyfriend to save you from this hell on earth.
You’re not surprised at all to find him playing beer pong with Taehyung and other guys from the team. He hasn’t gotten time to get drunk yet, so he’s quite impressive, but then again, they all are. That’s why they usually end up wasted.
The second he sees you, though, he abandons the game completely, and the smile on his face threatens to make your heart explode in your chest. Some of the guys turn around to look at you, give you a wave or a smile. Taehyung shouts a greeting.
“Hey,” Jungkook says, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your lips. He doesn’t like PDA all that much, but he never misses a chance to kiss you, and the thought makes you all giddy.
“Hey. Are you, um, having fun there?”
“It’s not that bad. Wanna play?” He waits for your expression to turn to one of horror as you try to refuse politely before laughing. “Just kidding. Don’t worry about it.”
You let out a relieved breath. You know you and Jungkook are very different people, and you’re doing your best to take an interest in the things he likes. You’ve been learning the rules of basketball, for example, and though you still don’t believe you get the point, you like the way his eyes shine when you say something right about a game.
But you don’t take part in any of that stuff. Okay, you stop at that field that’s on your way home from the library every now and again, but that doesn’t count. It’s just you and him then, and you feel good and relaxed. You’ve even scored a couple of times now.
“Come on, I want to grab a drink,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his, and you follow without protesting.
It’s probably your second mistake of the night: not realizing that getting a drink with and without Jungkook are two very different ordeals. On your way there, you get roped into several conversations. Those are fine. You can’t say you enjoy them, but they’re fine, and it’s not like those people are actually talking to you anyway.
What you genuinely dislike is that, when you’re by the table with the drinks, a girl starts openly flirting with your boyfriend. It’s not subtle, either, with the way she keeps touching his arm and how she laughs at his every word.
For a while, you just stare in disbelief. You know Jungkook is oblivious to that sort of things — probably one more reason why he likes how blunt you are — but you can’t believe her. You wouldn’t necessarily blame the girl for trying, either, if she didn’t know about you. Jungkook’s quite the catch after all, and you understand liking him better than anyone else.
No, it’s the fact that she’s doing it right in front of you, while Jungkook is holding your hand. It feels so— dismissive. So insulting. She’s not exactly saying to your face that she doesn’t take you seriously, but she might as well.
You watch incredulously when she puts her hand on his arm one more time. You don’t know how you’re supposed to handle that, so you just tug on Jungkook’s hand a little awkwardly. You’re pleased by how quickly his attention snaps to you, even while the girl is in the middle of her sentence. It’s a petty sentiment, for sure, but you can’t help it.
“Everything okay?” he asks. “Is it too loud in here?”
“Kind of, but—”
“Let’s find you a quieter place.”
He forgets about the drink he wanted to get, forgets about the girl, who he abandons there unceremoniously, gently pulling you through the room. Next thing you know, he’s carefully closing the doors of the closet he’s found for the two of you behind you.
“There,” he says, sounding satisfied with himself. “Better?”
You chuckle at that and, guessing for him in the half-light, you pull him towards you for a kiss. You press your body against his, pushing him against the back of the closet, and a groan forms in his throat. His hands tighten around you, sending shivers through your entire being, and you only lean into him more. You run your fingers over his chest, just to feel him tremble under your touch and he does, hissing with pleasure at the contact.
“Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth. “Was that— was that what you had in mind?”
You shake your head, and he’s close enough to feel it.
“That girl was flirting with you,” you tell him.
“Oh. Are you sure?”
“So… are you jealous? Because that’s kind of hot.”
You laugh softly. Truth is, you really, really don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend, but Jungkook actually sounds happy about the idea.
“You really didn’t notice?”
There’s a moment of silence.
“I didn’t. Does that— Did it bother you, that she was doing that?”
“Kind of,” you shrug. “What about you? You’re— cool with that?”
“If it bothers you I don’t like it,” he replies simply, one of his hand leaving your waist to grab yours and squeeze it gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”
That makes you chuckle.
“How didn’t you? She would have made it barely more obvious if she had started undressing herself.”
Jungkook has an awkward laugh, and you can feel his breath on your face. He starts fidgeting, but then you press a kiss right at the corner of his lips, and he calms down, if just a little.
“It’s— You have to promise you won’t make fun of me.”
He hesitates a second longer, as though he’s trying to judge your sincerity by looking at you — except, of course, he can barely see a thing in here. You kiss him again, following his jaw, and he finally gives in when you start making your way down his neck.
“When I’m with you, it’s like my vision narrows on you,” he says, voice low. “I know everything and everyone else is still there, but I just think about you. Sorry, it’s really stupid.”
“It’s not,” you say, shaking your head, wondering if he can feel your heart beating stupidly fast in your chest, all because his words make you feel like nothing else ever has before. “But I’m— I’m kind of boring. That can’t be fun.”
“You’re not boring,” he protests. “You listen to people, even when you don’t look like it. You always look like you have a thousand things on your mind but you always make time for your friends, and when you’re studying here, you play with your hair.” He twirls a lock of your hair around one of his fingers before releasing it, as if to demonstrate. “You’re a very, very interesting person to look at.”
The only thing you can do is stay there, frozen in his arms, after he’s said that. You may be blunt, but Jungkook is honest. Devastatingly so. His vulnerability always shatters the walls that you’ve built around yourself, and you still don’t know how to react when that happens.
So you push yourself on your tiptoes to kiss him again, except this time it’s slow and gentle and you’re trying to put everything he means to you into it. The tip of your fingers are on his cheeks, your mouth barely moving against his, soft noises filling the closet. Jungkook remains still, letting you in complete control, like he’s afraid he could break you if he moved.
“Thank you,” you whisper when you pull away from him.
“For what?” he asks, breathless.
“For being here with me tonight, and for coming with me at that first party.”
“Of course. Any time.”
He lets himself fall to the floor, taking you down with him and keeping you into his lap once he’s done that. You rest your head against his chest. You hear the noises of the party still going on outside, but Jungkook is your island of peace in the middle of the chaos.
“I think I’m going to stop basketball,” Jungkook blurts out without a warning, and you look at him, surprised.
“Really?” you ask.
“Yeah. Really. I just— I don’t want to be doing that anymore.”
You think about it for a few seconds, then nod.
“You probably should stop, in that case.”
“People are… not going to be happy about it.”
“I’m sure Taehyung won’t be mad at you. Well, not for too long.”
He laughs softly, but his hold on you doesn’t relax, and you know that this was hard for him to even consider. You know it’s a terrifying decision to take, too.
“Thank you,” he says. “For being here with me tonight, too.”
The truth is, you wouldn’t give that moment away for anything in the world, and something tells you Jungkook wouldn’t either. It’s not ideal, it’s not perfect, but you don’t believe there is such a thing, and you’re happy to satisfy yourself with the imperfect.
But any moment you can spend in Jungkook is as close to perfect as can be.
“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, and you think that he might feels the same way, which almost makes you burst with happiness.
“And I love you,” you whisper back.
Not perfect, perhaps. But close enough.
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member: jaehyun (hyunjae)
genre: fluff (requested)
word count: 3,120
synopsis: jaehyun has always been your rival. so when he bets that he could make you fall for him, you can’t back down and say no. but when you’re too confident, you let your guard done.
backdoor: a term used in league of legends; when you secretly attack the enemy’s nexus while they’re focused elsewhere. this is done by sneaking into the enemy base and taking them by surprise
Lee Jaehyun was the cockiest and most annoying person you had ever met. You would think that growing up as childhood “friends” would make you two close. After all, your parents were best friends with his parents.
But no, you and Jaehyun had been rivals ever since you were both enrolled into a tennis club as young children. You always had the upper hand until he suddenly hit puberty and became a lot more physically fit than you. Once he started beating you in nearly every match, he became your #1 enemy.
He had always been super competitive and made everything into a contest. Who could run to the car faster? Who could receive a higher score on the exam? Who could make the other lose their temper first?
With high school came his sudden increase in popularity. It inflamed his ego to the max, which irked you to no end.
Every Valentine’s Day, he would brag about all the gifts and confessions he received. And every White Day, he would compare the numbers to yours.
He was loved by the girls for being a casanova and admired by the guys for his athleticism and gaming skills.
You, on the other hand, could not comprehend why the entire school was infatuated with him. You had your eyes on someone else. Kim Sunwoo. He had caught your attention since the first day of freshman year. Now, as a senior, you were about to graduate without ever making a move.
You were too shy to approach him. You couldn’t even find a common interest to naturally bring up and talk about. All he ever did was make music and play League of Legends.
So you found Jacob during lunch and practically begged him to teach you how to play the game.
“Please please please?” you whined.
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t,” Jacob said apologetically. “I have basketball practice every day. Besides, I haven’t played in almost half a year. I’m rusty.”
“I just need you to teach me the basics!”
“I’m sorry, Y/n.”
Sighing, you gave up and slumped in your seat. You poked at the food in front of you with a pout.
“Did I just hear the Y/n ask Jacob to teach her how to play League?” Jaehyun suddenly popped out of nowhere.
“Fuck off,” you rolled your eyes at him as you set your chopsticks down.
“You know, I’m the highest ranked player in our school,” he said smugly. You wanted nothing but to wipe that look off his face.
You ignored him and took a sip of your water. Jacob awkwardly glanced between you and Jaehyun as he tightly held onto his spoon. He could sense another argument coming.
“I can teach you if you want,” Jaehyun offered.
“I don’t want,” you coldly rejected.
“Of course you don’t,” he scoffed. “You’re too afraid to spend time with me because you might realize that you actually like me.”
“Oh please. There are a few things in this world that will never change. The sun rising from the east, the sun setting in the west, and my hatred for you,” you said.
“Well if you hate me that much, then let’s make a bet out of it. The first one to fall for the other’s seducing loses,” he smirked.
Still stuck in the middle, Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“You don’t have to accept the challenge if you’re not confident,” Jaehyun shrugged, making you narrow your eyes at him.
A list of pros and cons was being made in your head as you contemplated the crazy suggestion. The logical part of your mind wanted nothing to do with him. You knew that stooping down to his level was childish. You had much better things to do than go along with his bet.
The competitive part of you, however, couldn’t bear to back down. You would have to deal with him flaunting over you and calling you a coward if you didn’t agree to this.
So you disregarded all rationale and crossed your arms with a curt “deal”.
The walk to school the next day was full of complaints as you whined about falling for Jaehyun’s trick and Kevin chided you for it.
“I don’t know why you thought it would be a good idea,” Kevin tsk-ed. “He makes your blood boil within seconds. How are you going to hold back from tearing him apart? Never mind flirt with him.”
“I’m already regretting it,” you groaned.
“Speaking of the devil,” Jacob coughed, nudging you.
You looked up to see Jaehyun waiting by the school gates. He was holding a bouquet of flowers and every girl who passed by whispered to their friend about it. To everyone’s shock, he walked up to you and handed you the flowers.
“So it starts now?” you stared at the roses. “You call this seducing?”
“I call this romantic,” he grinned.
Rolling your eyes, you handed Kevin the bouquet and walked away. He awkwardly chased after you as Jacob offered Jaehyun a pat on the shoulder.
“She doesn’t like roses. She thinks they’re cliché,” he said before leaving.
When the dismissal bell rang, Jaehyun was waiting for you outside of your classroom. Hushed whispers erupted again as your classmates tried to figure out why he was being so affectionate to you. It was no secret that you two never got along.
After gathering your belongings, you grabbed your backpack and left without sparing him another glance. Unfazed, he easily caught up to you and slung his arm around your shoulder.
“What? Are you wavering already?” he teased.
“Not a chance,” you scoffed.
“As a part of the bet, I can teach you how to play League. That’s what you wanted anyway. Think of it as killing two birds with one stone.”
You ignored all the incredulous looks you received with Jaehyun by your side as you left the school grounds. You didn’t realize that you weren’t headed home until you stopped in front of a PC Room. Puzzled, you stared at the building in front of you.
“I promised that I’d teach you. Our first lesson starts today,” he said as he dragged you inside.
Your brain was bombarded with a whole new world. You struggled to keep up as he rambled on about bots and gold. He was showing you a demonstration by playing a round but your inability to multitask made it difficult to understand what was going on on the screen.
“My main is Jace and I usually go jungle,” he explained and you pretended to understand by nodding. At your silence, he eyed your expression and chuckled.
“So is Sunwoo the reason why you’re suddenly interested in League?” he asked, catching you off guard.
“How did you know?” you gaped.
“You thought I wouldn’t notice your little crush on him?” he raised a brow.
You were taken aback to say the least. You didn’t think he paid much attention to you other than when he was bored and wanted to mess around.
“Anyway, he usually goes mid as Zed,” he shrugged. “To be honest, the best way for you to bond with him through the game is for him to play ADC and for you to be support.”
“As if I know what all that means,” you frowned.
At that moment, his character died and the screen went gray. You snickered, earning a light flick on your forehead.
“ADC stands for attack damage carry. It’s the champion who usually does the most attacking. They go in the bottom lane with whoever’s playing support. Supports are supposed to aid and heal the ADC. So you would follow and communicate with them.”
“Sounds complicated,” your nose wrinkled in distaste.
“Sounds fun,” he corrected before turning back to the computer.
The next day, Jaehyun surprised you with a small potted plant in front of the gates.
“Since you don’t like roses, I got you a succulent instead,” he said proudly.
Next to you, Kevin giggled and Jacob let out a soft “aww”. Slightly touched yet also slightly embarrassed, you took it from him in a hurry and stormed off.
“You’re slowly getting there,” Jacob laughed as Kevin shot him a thumbs up.
Smiling, Jaehyun watched as they ran to catch up with you. He heard you yell at them after what was probably a teasing remark. You then began to chase Kevin, who ran away shrieking.
After two weeks of spending hours at the PC Room after school, you were starting to get a hang of the game. You found Teemo, who you insisted was a dog (he’s actually a rodent), and gushed over how cute he is.
Jaehyun made fun of your champion choice and shook his head as he explained that Teemo was the most hated character.
“Why? He’s adorable!” you defended. “And I love the little eggs he plants.”
“For the nth time, those are mushrooms! Not eggs,” he exclaimed. “And that’s exactly why everyone hates him. He’s so annoying.”
“You’re annoying,” you shot back.
“Well, Teemo’s not an option right now,” he pointed out.
He was teaching you how to play Howling Abyss that day. And playing ARAM meant your champion would be randomly given.
“Oh! The cute cat is available,” you excitedly clicked.
“That’s Yuumi and that’s actually not a bad choice,” he nodded in approval. “You just have to attach onto me and heal me.”
You hated to admit that you had grown closer with Jaehyun. Only a couple of weeks had passed by since the bet and you didn’t completely despise him anymore.
He gifted you something small each morning, whether it was a plant or piece of bread. He was always waiting for you at the gates. Dating rumors were already circulating the school but you hadn’t forgotten about the bet. You were determined to win it.
Which was why you began to wake up earlier to put on makeup and even complimented him during games. It was easy to make him smile. All you needed to do was throw a lame joke in here and there and he would burst out in laughter.
It was almost suspiciously easy. He was too willing to respond to your advances and never put up a wall.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t get on your nerves. His antics still bothered you to no end.
On the way home, he insisted on feeding you ice cream instead of having you hold it yourself. Except he kept pulling the spoon back when you opened your mouth to eat it.
The first time, you gave him a dirty look. The second time, you punched his arm. The third time, you gave him the finger and walked off after a “fuck you”.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” he laughed.
Once again, you were reminded of how immature he was.
“So has there been any progress?” Kevin asked.
It was gym period and all the students were running around in the field. Jacob was playing volleyball with Jaehyun while you and Kevin were sitting on the sidelines.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged.
“It would be the best enemies-to-lovers trope if you two actually end up dating like this,” he commented.
“Never,” you snorted in disbelief.
You had seen Jaehyun ever since he was a snotty little kid. Even back then, he was a mischievous brat. There was no way you could ever see him as anything but that.
The teacher blew his whistle, signaling the end of gym class. You got up, dusted your pants, and skipped down the steps. Unfortunately, you landed wrong and felt a sharp pain in your ankle as you fell down.
After Kevin shouted your name, Jaehyun turned his head to see you on the ground. Without thinking twice, he ran towards you and asked if you were okay. When you couldn’t reply, he put you on his back with Kevin’s help and sprinted to the nurse’s office.
Your heart was beating fast but you couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why. Was it because of the pain? Or all the attention you were receiving from your classmates?
By the time you reached the office, your ankle was throbbing and swelling up. The nurse was nowhere to be seen so Jaehyun retrieved an ice pack himself and wrapped a towel around it before applying it.
You were sitting on a cot while he was bent down to tend to your wound. His forehead was wrinkled with worry and you stared at him. This was the first time he had ever treated you with such gentleness.
“I don’t think you broke anything but it’s definitely gonna hurt for at least a week,” he winced in vicarious pain.
You suddenly didn’t know how to act around him. You weren’t used to receiving sympathy from him.
“Uh that’s okay,” you coughed to cover up the awkwardness. You’d rather have him make fun of you for being clumsy. But instead, he seemed genuinely concerned for you.
“You should’ve been more careful,” he scolded.
There was something about the way he looked at you. His eyes were no longer playful but you couldn’t figure out what emotions hid behind those eyes.
Those eyes. His eyes clouded your mind. For some reason, you couldn’t get it out of your head.
You found yourself avoiding him as you struggled to organize your thoughts. Or rather, your feelings.
Wanting to distract yourself, you decided to finally talk to Sunwoo. Surely, spending time with him would help you forget about Jaehyun.
So you mustered up the courage to ask him out on a date. To your surprise, he happily agreed and suggested that you watch a movie together. There was a new romcom film that came out and that he had been wanting to watch.
The date wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. Sunwoo’s goofiness offset any nervousness and it was fun to be around him. But yet, it also wasn’t as heart fluttering as you thought it would be.
Perhaps you had idealized him too much in your imagination. Your romantic feelings for him dissipated and you saw him as a good friend. Luckily, he felt the same.
However, word about your date had already spread by the time you got to school on Monday. It had reached Jaehyun’s ears and his expression hardened when he saw you laughing with Sunwoo at lunch.
He knew what the ugly feeling in his stomach was. And he wasn’t happy about it. So he reacted in the only way he knew. By clinging to your side and pestering you.
He spent the whole day messing up your hair and being sarcastic. Eventually, you finally snapped and told him to piss off.
“I’ll consider it if you can beat me in tennis today,” he said.
You crossed your arms, wondering what was going on in his head. You hadn’t been able to defeat him since middle school.
“If you can get a single ball past me, I’ll leave you alone,” he proposed. With a huff, you reluctantly agreed. It would be faster to just get it over with.
That was how you two ended up at a tennis court after school. He never went easy on you but he was going especially hard that day. He gave you no breaks and flung the ball back at you with what felt like all his strength. Ball after ball flew past you as he grabbed another one to start again.
“What the hell, Lee Jaehyun?” you yelled across the court. “Why the fuck are you so aggressive today?”
“Are you giving up?” he taunted while bouncing the ball.
“Oh hell no,” you grumbled as you got in position.
Another half an hour passed by with him beating you again and again. You were drenched in sweat and starting to feel sore. But you refused to give him the pleasure of watching you admit defeat.
So you kept going until the ball accidentally hit your shoulder. The amount of force he put into that backhand made you yelp in pain as you dropped the racket.
Startled, Jaehyun ran over to make sure you were okay.
“You just can’t bear to see me win once, can you?” you glared as you shoved his hand away. “You turn everything into a competition and act like you’re superior over me.”
“I-I didn’t mean to do that,” his brows furrowed in guilt.
“Didn’t mean to do what? Make my childhood a living hell by ruining my favorite sport? Use my crush on Sunwoo to trick me into another stupid bet? Confuse me into thinking that you might actually not hate me?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Then why are you so clingy?”
“Because I like you!”
His words brought upon silence. The tension in the air was thick as you both stared at each other.
“You’re so dense,” he sighed. “I wanted your attention, okay? But back then, I was a kid and didn’t know how to stay by your side without annoying the hell out of you. And then I didn’t know how to transition out of that.”
He fidgeted with a loose string on his shirt and took a deep breath before continuing.
“This stupid bet was supposed to change our relationship. I was supposed to show you that I’m not as bad as you think I am. That I’m a guy too. That I’ve been in love with you for a whole decade now.”
To say you were surprised would be a massive understatement. All your life, you had been sure that Jaehyun’s purpose in life was to irritate you. So when your heart began to skip around him, you cursed yourself for giving into the hormones that made you see him in a different light. You never thought that the feelings would be reciprocated.
“You don’t feel the same way? At all?” he carefully asked.
Your mouth opened but no words came out. You couldn’t find the right words to answer his question.
“You’re not saying no,” the corners of his lips curved up.
He took a step closer to you and held your cheeks. You felt your heart race at the proximity and froze.
“For confirmation?” his lips ghosted over yours. You barely managed to nod slightly before he closed the gap between you two.
As cheesy as it sounded, you felt sparks fly the moment you had your first kiss. By the time he pulled away, you felt your cheeks heat up.
“So I guess that means I won the bet before it even began,” you joked, making him laugh.
“Yes, yes you did,” he smiled as he hugged you.
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Gavin's father - The Gland Prix
I honestly didn't expect Gavin to return so quickly (or at all). But with his return coinciding with Darius introductory episode, I think it's time I return to my theory/headcanon that he could be Gavin's father, right?
Eda's Requiem doesn't confirm nor contradict any familial relation between Gavin and Darius, beyond some superficial resemblance (that I admit could just be coincidental).
All we get is Darius complaining that "Today was supposed to be Me-Time!", which only tells us that he had plans, but doesn't exactly point to Gavin being involved.
And maybe Gavin was only in this episode because they needed some Glandus students for the race and already had his character design.
But now, let's look at everything with the assumption that Darius is Gavin's dad and see how that fits with the rest of the episode:
One big theme in this episode is clearly Parenthood, and through that lens, Gavin and Darius both appearing as antagonists makes a lot of sense.
Gavin is mainly motivated by trying to gain his father's approval and attention. That is probably why he's in this race, and there's a clear parallel to King, who is also trying to get his father's attention!
Heartbreakingly, Gavin wins the race, but his father is nowhere to be seen. King on the other hand loses, but it doesn't matter, because Eda is still there for him (and the viewers find out that he did gain someone's attention.)
On the other hand we've got Eda and Darius, who in this version are perfect foils:
Eda is the Adoptive Mother that clearly loves her children and is so afraid of losing them that she'd rather die. Out of this fear, she neglects Luz and King for most of the episode, something she realizes at the end. She runs back to them, knowing that means leaving behind Raine (someone Eda clearly is in love with) in a dangerous situation.
Darius is the Neglectful Father, who is too preoccupied with his job and himself to appreciate the son he has. Maybe he promised Gavin he would come to this race and was then asked to participate in this smoke out. Or maybe he didn't even care that much and forgot about his sons race.
In any case, while Eda is crying with her son, he is in some forest tormenting Raine for throwing mud at his cloak, once again only interested in his own problems.
All of which fits perfectly well with the episode's theme of parenthood.
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A Thousand Words
as promised, a Valentine’s Day fic 💕
Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader
TW implied dub/non-con, cheating, minor choking/abuse, nsfw(ish)
You break up with Iwaizumi two weeks before Valentine’s Day, standing in the doorway of the apartment you share with him.
And you hate that it still hurts, still tugs at the wretched, broken strings of your heart to watch that rare, beautiful smile of his fracture like glass, confusion giving way to disbelief and then finally anguish.
Iwa’s never been the best with his words, but it seems that you’ve robbed him of those too as you tell him that your relationship’s over. He just stands there, wide eyed, agonised as you shove your phone – the proof – into his face, a hoarse, strangled whisper of ‘why’ leaves his lips.
It seems that it’s all that he’s capable of.
There’s nothing for him to say anyway. You don’t want his apologies or his excuses. The pictures are evidence enough.
A boys weekend, he’d told you, and you’d trusted him. You loved him. He wasn’t like your ex, Iwa would never deliberately do anything to hurt you.
He knew what fidelity meant to you.
You’d thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with him, but those pictures are enough to show you what a fool’s dream that was. Iwa, naked in bed, wrapped around some other woman.
Sleeping so peacefully, curled up by her side, like he’d done with you a thousand times.
And it doesn’t matter whether he was drunk or not. It doesn’t matter if he knew her or paid for her or found her at some fancy fucking bar downtown. He cheated on you, he broke your heart and he doesn’t get to watch you fall apart in front of him.
You save your tears until the door swings shut, collapsing onto the floor with a heartbroken wail as the man you love walks away.
Iwaizumi doesn’t remember much of that night. He’s never been a lightweight, but the drinks they were knocking back would’ve been enough to take out the best of them. And Iwa didn’t have to worry, not when he was out with friends.
God knows they’d gotten him into so much shit when they were younger and stupider, but between the four of them they’ll stop each other from doing anything too damaging. They have careers now (most of them, anyway) and reputations to protect. And Iwa had you.
Out of everything; his career, his reputation, his livelihood, you were the one thing Iwa wouldn’t risk fucking up.
The night itself is a hazy, incomprehensible blur, but he does remember the girl. Not her name or where she came from, but he remembers her. A pretty face with a sultry smile, wearing some short, tight, shimmering dress. He remembers her sitting on Oikawa’s lap, fingers carding through his hair, red lips kissing at his jaw.
And he remembers Oikawa lounging back in his seat, barely paying the poor girl an ounce of attention, even when her hand started to run teasingly up his thigh, those same sinful lips whispering into his ear.
How the girl managed to find her way from Oikawa’s lap to his hotel bedroom is beyond him, but the pictures don’t lie. It’s his arm wrapped around her waist, her skin littered with love bites and fingerprint shaped bruises.
It was her mouth he’d woken up to, trailing a slow, teasing path up along his chest. He’d shoved her aside, snapped and snarled until the pretty thing welled up with tears and all but fled, leaving him to fall back into the sheets full of self loathing and disgust, wondering how he could possibly have fucked up this badly.
And when he threw up later, hurling until there was nothing left in his stomach, he knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d drunk.
Iwa hadn’t known that anybody knew, hadn’t thought that there was proof – not until you were shoving it in his face, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to keep your tears at bay. And what could he say?
It was a mistake?
He was drunk?
Iwa doesn’t make excuses, you deserve more than that. You deserve more than him.
He should’ve fallen to his knees and begged – begged you through tears if he had to – for you to give him a second chance. But the words stuck in his throat, because the look of absolute, utter heartbreak on your face felt like a fist driving into his gut, and he wasn’t sure if he even deserved it.
You break up with him two weeks before Valentine’s Day, entirely unaware of the ring he’s been carrying around in his pocket for almost a month now, and Iwaizumi doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.
So he does the only thing he can, and calls Oikawa.
Moving your things out of the apartment you’d spent the last year and a half sharing with your boyfriend – your ex-boyfriend – takes less time than you think. The life you’d started to build with him, packed up in nice neat little boxes in only a few hours.
And you’re grateful that he’s not there. He’d messaged you to tell you that he wouldn’t be, the only contact you’d had with him since breaking up.
It’s not the pictures on the nightstand, Iwa’s strong arms wrapped around you, a dopey little grin on his face that gets to you – it’s the World’s Best Boyfriend mug he’d bought you as a joke one day, the old hoodie of yours that was actually his, the one you’d worn half to death because it was warm and smelled like him.
It’s hard enough to do this without him hovering over you, but stupidly you’d forgotten that while Iwa had promised not to be there, he wasn’t the only one with a key to your shared apartment.
The lock clicks and the door swings open just as you’re finishing up in the bedroom and for one single, split second, your heart jumps into your throat.
But the brunette that saunters in isn’t the one you’re still in love with, and you’re quick to brush away the tears on your face before he can see.
Before he can mock you for it.
Oikawa, ever the charmer, merely grins when he catches sight of you.
“Did Iwa send you to supervise?” you say in lieu of a proper greeting, the words slightly more bitter than you intend – even for him.
He isn’t bothered by it, his grin widening just a fraction as he turns and settles down on the bed, long legs stretched out, ankles casually crossed over. He looks entirely too comfortable there and it’s an effort not to bristle.
“Well hello to you too,” he says, his voice a teasing lilt. “Are you always this fun in the mornings?”
Your brows draw together in a frown, but just as you open your mouth to snap a retort, his palms come up in a gesture of mock surrender. “No, Iwa did not send me to supervise you. He doesn’t know I’m here, actually.”
“Then why are you here? To gloat?” you spit.
Oikawa’s eyes glitter, amusement tugging at his lips. You love Iwaizumi, and for his sake you’ve spent the past few years tolerating the constant, overbearing presence of his best and oldest friend. Oikawa, on the other hand has never made all that much of an effort to hide the fact that he doesn’t exactly approve of your relationship with his friend.
Oh, he’s never outwardly rude or hurtful. He doesn’t sit there and spew abuse at you, and as far as you know he hasn’t tried to sway Iwa into leaving you since the very early days of your relationship, but Oikawa doesn’t need to be overt to make his feelings clear.
He treats you like a one night stand that hasn’t quite gotten the hint that it’s time to fix your dress and move right along.
You still haven’t forgotten the night you all went out to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday, how he’d slid into Iwa’s empty seat the moment he’d slipped out to get another round of drinks and spoken so casually, as if it was nothing but a friendly conversation. Small talk.
“You know it won’t last; you and Iwa.”
And you hadn’t said a word, not wanting to be baited into fighting – into ruining Iwa’s night. You hadn’t even scowled at him, just sat there, pretending that he didn’t exist as you waited for your boyfriend to come back to you.
“You’re cute together, I’ll give you that much,” he’d mused, swallowing the last mouthful of his beer. He’d studied you from beneath long lashes for a moment; a sharp, lingering look entirely at odds with the easy, relaxed tone of his voice. “But you two aren’t a good match. You don’t belong with him.”
You never did figure out exactly what you’d done to make him dislike you so much, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now.
Not when he’s finally proven himself to be right.
“Please,” he says with a scoff, rolling those pretty eyes of his, “as if I’d be so immature. I’m just here to make sure you don’t steal the coffee machine – it’s so much better than the one I have at home.”
He spends the next half hour trailing you from room to room, looking entirely too delighted at your misery. It’s almost a relief when you slip into the bathroom just for a moment’s fucking peace, brushing angrily away at the tears that still haven’t left you.
You almost – almost – reach for your phone to message Iwa and tell him to call off his stupid, infuriating friend, except you’d left it lying on the kitchen bench.
His head hurts. An incessant pounding, throbbing ache that makes him want to hurl.
Rationally, he’d known that the cure for the monstrous hangover he’d given himself wasn’t going out for a run at five in the morning, but he didn’t know what else to do. It was either that or keep drinking, and considering it was the alcohol that had gotten him into this fucking mess in the first place…
“I need to fix this,” he groans, dropping his head into his hands, letting his fingers roughly run through the tangles of his hair. “I need to fucking fix this.”
He looks like shit, feels like shit, but he can’t bring himself to care, not even as a solid weight drops itself onto the couch beside him.
“You need to give her space, Iwa,” Oikawa comments with a sigh, passing him a glass of water that he gratefully chugs. “Give her time to figure things out. She’s hurting, and you constantly harassing her won’t do you any favours in trying to win her back.”
He wants to see the truth in his friend’s wisdom. He knows he hurt you, he knows he fucked up, but–
You’d already moved your things out.
He’d known that, of course he had, but coming home to see every trace of you just gone was like a gut punch. He was gonna marry you, get down on one fucking knee in front of everybody and– and now you’re gone and he’s crashing in his best friend’s spare bedroom because the thought of going home without you there is too fucking painful for him to bare.
And he only has himself to blame for it.
But you’re his future, the only one he really gives a damn about, and he’s not one to just give up and walk away. Iwa doesn’t care if it takes weeks or months, he doesn’t care if he has to spend the rest of his life making this up to you; he will.
He can’t just let you go.
Oikawa continues to try and talk sense beside him, but he’s barely paying attention, only offering a small grunt of acknowledgement when he feels the brunette’s eyes studying him. He knows that he’s only trying to help, but he can’t honestly remember the last time Oikawa bothered to introduce him to one of the girls hanging off his arm. He knew as well as his friend did that there wasn’t much point – they wouldn’t be sticking around for long. Fuck, he doesn’t think that Oikawa’s ever had a serious relationship in his life, so excuse him if he’s a little hesitant to take his advice as gospel.
And Oikawa doesn’t know you like Iwaizumi does. He doesn’t understand you, doesn’t see what Iwa does when he looks at you. You’re like… sunlight. There’s no other way he can describe it. It’s cheesy and stupidly sappy, he’d rather be shot than admit it out loud, but he’s never met another person so–so… radiant. You burn bright, and Iwaizumi can’t help but be drawn to you – your warmth and your softness and everything about you. You’re beautiful and caring and you’re home and he’s terrified that if he waits too long, somebody else is gonna see that and snatch you up for themselves and he won’t even be able to blame them for it.
He knows he fucked up, knows that you probably (rightfully) hate him, but he has to try.
So he ignores the way that Oikawa huffs and rolls his eyes when he reaches for his phone, opening up your last conversation.
Please, can we talk? I know you don’t want anything to do with me right now but I’m begging you. Just ten minutes?
And his heart pounds against his ribcage so violently that he thinks he might be sick as he waits for it to send. Waits for the little ‘Read’ notification to pop up.
Error. Message failed to send.
He tries again, distinctly aware of the Oikawa’s watchful, curious gaze peering over his shoulder.
Error. Message failed to send.
There’s a sinking feeling in his gut and in his panic, he presses the call button, bringing the phone to his ear with a sick feeling in his stomach.
It doesn’t even ring, there’s just three beeps and the line disconnects.
You’ve blocked his number.
You second guess yourself with every step, but you don’t stop and you don’t turn around.
The radio silence from your ex had been a little unexpected, but you’d been the one to tell him in no uncertain terms that the two of you were done.
You were the one to make a point of moving out, keeping the few messages you’d exchanged short and to the point. Were you expecting him to fight you on it? Blow up your phone with messages and voicemails begging you to come back? Maybe show up at your door demanding that you hear him out and give him another chance.
Were you maybe just the tiniest bit disappointed that he hadn’t?
It wasn’t remotely fair to expect that of him, you know that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart had leapt into your throat the moment his message had come through after days of nothing.
Can we talk face to face? I need to see you.
Two sentences, that was it. And you’d spent the better part of an hour debating whether or not you should reply.
Because you love him still, despite it all.
The last person you’d given a second chance to had used that chance to walk all over you. He’d broken your heart, your trust, and any semblance of self worth you’d had. Iwaizumi had been the one to build you back up afterwards.
And now he’d done the same thing. Knowing what you’d gone through before, and it gutted you.
The date on the calendar hasn’t slipped your attention. It’s Valentine’s Day, and you’d spent all morning trying to forget that if things were different, you would have spent the day with Iwa. He’d been secretive about his plans, tight lipped for once in his life, and there’d been some part of you that had wondered, hoped even… but instead you’re sitting alone in a hotel room, feeling miserable for yourself.
If you were stronger, maybe, and if today were any other day, you might have ignored the message, the way those two brief sentences made your pathetic heart ache, but–
But… perhaps you had been a little too hasty when you’d broken it off. Iwa hadn’t said a word to defend himself, but you hadn’t really given him the option, had you?
Agreeing to meet with him wasn’t agreeing to brush it all under the rug. It wasn’t a promise of forgiveness, or even really an olive branch. It just meant that you would go to hear him out, that’s all.
Just to hear him out.
Yet your stomach’s twisting into knots as you walk up the familiar steps, your heart beating out an unsteady rhythm. You love him, despite it all.
You love him, but that doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you raise a fist to knock.
The smiling face that greets you when that door swings open, however, is not the one you’re expecting.
“Hey there, cutie. You’re early.”
For one single, floundering heartbeat, confusion grips you. Why was he– was Iwaizumi not coming? Had you misunderstood the message, or… or had he changed his mind, backed down at the last second and sent his friend to hammer the final nail into the coffin of your failed relationship.
You didn’t think Iwaizumi would be the type, though. He’d never been cruel, he’d never been cowardly, either.
“I don’t… understand,” you breathe, wide eyes darting around as if you’re expecting your ex to suddenly pop up behind his shoulder and shove him aside with a growl, telling him to butt out of your relationship the way he had countless times before.
Yet Oikawa offers no explanation, that same stupid, infuriating grin widening as he steps back to let you in, and you, somewhat robotically, follow him inside. Your eyes flicker from his back to the apartment around you – it’s exactly how you left it last week, not a single thing out of place.
“Iwa said–” but your voice falls silent as you realise that no, that’s not true.
The door to your bedroom is ajar, soft, flickering light spilling out from the crack, but that’s not what catches your attention. It’s the rose petals on the floor, the dulcet music playing so quietly you’d missed it entirely.
Your brow furrows, breath catching in your throat as you stare at the scene before you, utterly frozen. You don’t register Oikawa stepping closer, nor the dark hunger brewing in his eyes. None of this makes any sense, you don’t understand–
“Iwa’s not coming.” Long, delicate fingers grip your chin, tilting your face and before you can even draw breath his lips are pressing against yours. It only lasts a second, long enough for your lagging brain to register that Oikawa is kissing you, here, in the middle of the apartment you’d shared with his best friend.
Oikawa, who hates you. Who’s cupping your cheek, gazing at you with an expression so eager and wanting, so unnervingly wrong that it makes your heart clench in fear and your blood run cold.
His thumb brushes along the curve of your cheekbone, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
And then he’s grabbing at your hand, fingers entwining with yours as he tugs you towards the bedroom, and finally the shock wears off enough for reality to kick in.
“What the fu– Oikawa, get the hell off of me!” you snap, trying to wrench yourself free. But he’s stronger than he looks, and his grip merely tightens.
“Tooru,” he calls back, glancing over his shoulder with that impish, wicked little smirk. “I want you to moan it for me tonight. You can do that for me, right cutie?”
You’re not a violent person, you’ve never been the type to lash out with fists and blows, but something inside of you just snaps at his words, and before you can stop yourself, your open palm flies towards his face.
Quick as lightning, Oikawa spins, catching at your wrist and slamming you up against the living room wall. A small burst of pain radiates through your skull from the impact, your breath forced from your lungs in a pathetic squeak as he boxes you in. There’s not a moment for you to catch your breath, though, not with his forearm pressing down on your throat just hard enough so that you can feel it. He’s always been taller than you, but you’d never considered him to be intimidating – not until he’s looming over you, teeth bared in that feral smirk.
“Oh, baby. If you’re not going to play nice, I won’t either.” His fingers tighten on your wrist, squeezing until a choked whimper slips out and he kisses you once more. Not soft or sweet, but bruising, teeth clacking, nipping and biting and harshly sucking at your bottom lip until you return it.
And when he pulls away, there’s blood on his lips – yours – and he licks it away with a satisfied little hum. “I put effort into this, you know,” he says, his tone almost conversational if not for the slight pant, the shivering undercurrent that laces every word. Oikawa leans closer, and you can feel the outline of his cock, hardening already as he presses it against you, rutting his hips ever so slightly. “Set the bedroom up nice and romantic for our first time together.”
He kisses you again, a sweet, tender peck, smiling when you part.
“But if you want me to fuck you here first, up against the wall, all you had to do was say so.”
The girl had been easy enough to convince to play along, which probably should have disgusted him.
She looked like you; a cheap imitation, of course, but close enough. Oikawa could kid himself that it was for Iwaizumi’s sake, to sow the seeds of doubt in his head, but he knows as he forces her face down into the pillow, slamming his hips against her ass like a man possessed, that that’s not the whole truth.
But she served her purpose well enough, letting him fuck her, mark up that pristine skin with the same kind he’d seen littered across your neck and collarbones, your thighs–
And she’d still tried to kiss him the moment before slipping out of her robe and climbing into his best friend’s bed. Given him that playful wink, biting her bottom lip seductively as if she were anything but a means to an end for him.
As if he hadn’t forgotten her name the moment he’d gotten those pictures.
Oikawa knows all about your ex and how that asshole treated you, out of all the possible scenarios he could have engineered, this would be the one that’d hurt you the most. He’d thought that you would fly off the handle, kick Iwa out for a few days and leave the door open just wide enough for him to weasel his way in, but you’d gone one step further.
You’d left him.
Broken his heart completely, the way he’d broken yours. Oikawa couldn’t have planned it better himself, and oh what he would have killed to have been there to see it.
And it’s not that he enjoys his best friend’s pain – truly, he wants Iwa to be happy, he does.
Just not with you. Not when you’re his.
It was easy enough to bully Iwa into revealing when you’d be coming over to pick up your things. Easy enough to rile you up to the point you’d run and hide just so he wouldn’t see you shed all those pretty tears.
Leaving your phone unattended. And really, it’s your own fault for choosing such an obvious passcode – how could he possibly resist?
You were none the wiser, his poor, unsuspecting little idiot.
Yet for all your posturing and your badly concealed hurt, he’d known that you’d show up today. You’re a romantic at heart, and you’d let yourself be walked all over again if you thought it meant that somebody loved you, wouldn’t you?
You would’ve said yes when he’d gotten down on one knee, and when he’d come back to you with tears in his eyes, drowning in regret and you saw what a mess Iwaizumi was without you, you would have forgiven him – even if it meant giving him the power to break you all over again.
Oikawa honestly doesn’t know whether he should admire or pity you for it.
It hardly matters now, he supposes. Not when you’re so beautifully wrecked, lying nestled against his bare chest with those tears he adores spilling down your flushed cheeks. Every thump of your heart echoing his.
He wonders if he should send Iwaizumi a picture.
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I’ll Take Your Man(s)- Part 6
Characters: EZ Reyes x black!reader, Miguel Galindo x black!reader
Summary: The fallout after EZ catches the reader with Miguel.
Warnings: Sorry guys but its mostly angst.
Here’s my masterlist and my taglist if you want to be notified.
EZ Gif Credit: @hvitserkk
Miguel Gif Credit: @xxrouxx
With a lot of yelling and pushing, Angel was finally able to get EZ to leave your porch. Angel felt bad for the kid. EZ was so distraught that Angel was kinda scared to let him drive his bike.
When they finally got back to Angel’s, EZ kicked his couch and yelled “Son of a bitch!”
“Hey man, leave the couch alone. It didn’t do anything to you.”
“My bad. Its just ugh- how the hell did I get here?” EZ sat down on the couch with his head hanging low while he rubbed it.
Angel sat down next to him and hooked his arm around EZ’s neck for comfort. “So, when he was eating her out, did she look like she enjoyed it?”
EZ leaned back and arched one eyebrow at Angel. “Seriously Angel?”
“Yeah, dude. Like was her leg doing that little shaking thing? Did she look spent? Frazzled? Was her hands clawing onto something?”
You did all of those things and it was the worst. In his dreams, EZ always thought that he would see your looks of pleasure because of him, not Miguel. This was truly a nightmare. “Can you fucking not?”
“Oh, someone’s mad.” Angel taunted EZ with a baby tone as he pinched his cheeks.
EZ slapped his brother’s hands away. “Angel, this is serious! Y/N’s basically fucking Galindo!”
Angel went to his refrigerator and threw EZ a beer. “I know. And I was serious when I told you that you needed to lock that down before Miguel got to her but now it’s too late.”
Unacceptable. No way that was going to happen. You were his and no one else’s. “I made a mistake earlier by letting that bitch Emily play me. “
Angel’s eyes bulged at the disdain on EZ’s tongue. The most malicious he’s ever heard him talk about Emily was him ranting about how he couldn’t get her out of his head. “Um, you do realize you called Emily a bitch?”
“And what did she do to deserve that?”
EZ gave him the cliff notes version. If he went in depth he would hop on his bike, drive to Emily’s house and choke the life out of her.
Once EZ was done with the story, Angel sat there on shock. He didn’t think Emily was capable of all that. “That’s cold man. But fuck Emily, how are you going to get your girl back?” Angel believed the two of you belong together. Just because his supposedly genius brother fucked things up doesn’t mean he couldn’t get back in the game.
“I sorta got something. I just hope it works.”
Angel slapped EZ’s thigh. “Lay it on me, baby bro.” He was going to sit there and listen to give his approval or disapproval. There was no way Angel was going to let Ezekiel fuck this up further and you consequently end up with Miguel.
Even if the night turned soured towards the end, it was Miguel’s best one in some time.
Emily was in bed, reading a book awaiting his return. “You’re home late. Again.”
“Busy night.” Miguel began undressing and immediately Emily noticed the scratches on his back.
“Busy with Y/N?” She said your name with such venom when all she really wanted to do was cry. How could she lose her husband and Ezekiel to you? For God’s sake you were just a freaking bartender. Nothing special at all.
Miguel looked back at his wife and arched an eyebrow. “Busy as you are with the Prospect.”
“I’ve never slept with him!” Emily hopped out of bed and pushed against Miguel’s chest.
Besides yanking her hands off his body, he gave Emily no reaction. “Tell me wife,” he spouted off the title with disdain. “What kind of person threatens to take away the insurance of a sick man who’s almost on death’s door? At one time, I knew it couldn’t be my wife, but now I don’t know.”
“Miguel, I-,” Emily caressed his face and tried to kiss him despite the smell of another woman on his lips.
“No!” Miguel sidestepped her and went towards the door. “Stay away from Y/N, that’s an order.”
“Where are you going?” She asked when he was halfway out the door.
“To sleep in the guest room. I can’t sleep in the bed with someone I can’t trust.”
Anger coursed through Emily’s blood. First EZ and now Miguel. What? Would you take her son next? Replace her as the new Mrs. Galindo? Nope, not gonna happen. Emily had to get rid of you.
The next day was so weird for you. As soon as you woke up there was instant regrets. You told EZ your oldest secret in hopes to break his heart like he did yours. Then you went against your morals by letting a married man eat you out. Now you probably ruined the best relationship in your life.
Thankfully, Kennedy was scheduled to work today because you needed a mental health day. Most of the day consisted of you aimlessly walking around town. You were so out of it that you didn’t notice the car following behind you.
At some point you decided to get a manicure. Big mistake. The white witch was there as well. You wanted to walk out as soon as you saw her, but you wouldn’t let her have that type of hold over you.
The nail salon was quiet. They might not have known what transpired last night, but they felt the tension.
The Fates weren’t on your side today, because unfortunately you and Emily finished and left at the same time.
“Y/N,” Emily saccharinely called you.
“Yes, Mrs. Galindo?” You returned the same energy.
Emily did her best to seem intimidating as she walked up to you while you did your best to keep in your laughter. This ho wasn’t scaring anybody.
“Yes, I am Mrs. Galindo and it’s best that you remember that. Right now, your Miguel’s little fetish, his new exotic toy and just like any toy you’ll eventually get thrown away.”
Were you guilty about kinda sleeping with Miguel? Yes. But were you about to let Emily know that? No. She made it really hard to be the bigger person. Forever First Lady, Michelle Obama would just have to forgive you. She shouldn’t have put so much faith in you anyway.
“Hmm, see I don’t consider myself a toy. Ask your husband how’s the new beard moisturizer working out for him.”
This time Emily was coming at you with a closed fist. At least she was finally learning. You went to dodge the swing, but you never felt the gush of wind from it.
“Not here, Mrs. Galindo.” Nestor engulfed Emily’s fist with his hand. “You know Miguel wouldn’t approve.”
Emily took a deep breath to compose herself. “You’re right. Not in the public like this. Actually, can you take me home? I need to do some work for me and my husband.” She went for the door handle, but Nestor blocked her. “Nestor, what are you doing?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Galindo but Paco can take you home. I’m to escort Ms. Y/L/N.”
If you weren’t in shock yourself, you would’ve reveled in Emily’s confusion. This was too surreal.
“Ms. Y/L/N,” Nestor held the door open for you and gestured for you to get in. You did so you could tell Miguel that all of this could end, but Emily didn’t need to know that. While the car peeled away, you winked and blew a kiss at Emily. It was faint to the eye, but you could see her white tears and it brought you a little bit of joy. Serves her right after trying to fuck with your family.
You thought the charade would be up and Nestor would take you back to your car, but it didn’t happen. Instead, he took you to the head honcho.
As soon as you stepped through the door, Miguel had you in his arms, checking to see if you’re okay.
“Miguel, I’m fine. Its good that your thug brought me here. What happened last night will not happen again.” You winked at Nestor, who was currently sporting a frown.
Two steps forward and one step back. Miguel could never get far with you. He knew his marital status was making things difficult for you, but he was genuinely interested in you. So, maybe eating you out as delectable and amazing as it was, maybe he should’ve waited longer.
“Of course, whatever you want. Where would you like Nestor to drop you off? Home or somewhere different?”
Okay, what was that? Miguel has never been that agreeable. Maybe he just wanted to eat you out and that was it. That couldn’t be too bad. You ain’t fuck him and you still got your nut. It’s a win-win situation. “Um, somewhere else.” There was one place you’ve been meaning to go but haven’t had the time.
“Great. He’ll wait til you’re done.”
The instinct to decline the offer was on the precipice, but you didn’t want to argue with Miguel which would eventually lead to spending more time with him. “It won’t be long. You’ll have your favorite henchman with cornrows back real soon.”
Miguel kissed your temple. “How generous of you. Have a good day, Y/N.”
Kinda curtsying you gave him a head nod. “You too, Miguel.”
Leaning against his desk, Miguel watched Nestor escort you out of his house. You may have thought this was the end, but, this was only the beginning.
First, you had Nestor take you to get some tacos and then to the cemetery. Life has gotten so crazy, you haven’t made your monthly visit to your mom, but now you needed to more than ever.
“Hey, mama. I know it’s been a while. My life has been a shit show.” A warm breeze caressed your skin like a hug. “Thanks, mama. Things with Daddy is not getting easier and then there’s EZ and Miguel.”
As if she were next to you, you could clearly hear your mom ask, “Galindo? What are you doing with that man?”
“See the thing is…” Then a crack of thunder vibrated through the sky. Your mom hated when you would beat around the bush.
“Okay, lady calm down. I’m pretty sure you know everything already. But in case you don’t I kinda started flirting with Emily’s husband just to be petty and now I think he actually likes me and the crazy part is I might like him too.”
You could feel your mom’s disapproving glare from up in the sky. First thing first, she hated everything associated with the Galindo Cartel. To her they were unnecessarily cruel. She would go over to the border time to time to help out people who lost their families to the cartel. To see them suffer like that put her off the Galindo name forever, even if it was Miguel’s father and not him.
“I know, I know, but,” you sighed and you could feel yourself daydreaming about Miguel like some damn schoolgirl. “Mama, he makes me feel…wanted, desired. And its just not sexual. I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”
“What about, Ezekiel?” You could hear her say. From the moment she met him, your mom told you that EZ was your soulmate and that he would be your husband. Naturally, you blew her off and chalked it up to her being old-fashioned, since she wasn’t accustomed to seeing the opposite sex being best friends (even though way in the back of your mind, you noticed she didn’t say the same about Angel.)
“He’s got his head so far up Emily’s ass that he doesn’t even notice me. Mama I love that man so damn much it hurts.” A couple of tears fell down your face. This was the first time you admitted out loud that you loved EZ. “He doesn’t want me. I’m just his loyal best friend. Miguel on the other hand…”
A crack of thunder and a lightening strike occurred in the clear blue skies. “I was just kidding…about the Miguel thing, not EZ.”
Not wanting to dwell on the disaster you call a love life, you changed the topic. Talking about your dad wasn’t any better. At least you know when he passes, he’ll be with your mom.
“Bye, mama. I gotta go talk to Ms. Marisol.” You pressed a kiss to her tombstone and went to the other side of the cemetery.
Marisol Reyes technically wasn’t here. Mr. Felipe kept her ashes at the house, but he still bought her a tombstone.
Halfway there and you bumped into EZ, who seemed like he was going the opposite direction, where your mother was at. “Hey,” you both awkwardly greeted each other.
“Why are you here?” He questioned you.
“To talk to my mom. Is that okay with you?”
“Y/N, I’m so-,”
You held up your hand to stop him. “Not here, Ezekiel. The only reason I’m not cussing you out is because this is sacred ground.”
He wanted to fight it, but EZ knew better. If he pushed you it would only piss you off further. “Okay, give Mom a kiss for me. I’m gonna go talk to yours.”
You nodded at him and continued your trek to Marisol’s plot. “Hi, Ms. Marisol, I bet you already know all the tea.” Your mom and EZ’s mom were the best of friends. When you and EZ became friends, so did they. Sometimes they would arrange “playdates” even though you two were way pass the age for playdates.
Ten minutes later and you were done talking to Ms. Marisol. As you approached Nestor’s car, you saw Angel sitting on his bike, smoking a cigarette. “C’mon Trouble, we need to have that talk.”
“You can go back to, Miguel.” Nestor looked like he didn’t want to go, but then he remembered Miguel’s instructions. Whatever you want. “Yes, Miss. Y/N, please tell Mr. Galindo when you make it home.”
Angel got up from the bike and stomped out the cigarette. “She’s with family. She’ll be safe.” He didn’t like the implication that you were possibly in danger with him.
Nestor pushed off the SUV. “Mr. Galindo, would like to know her whereabouts.”
Angel pushed you behind him and stepped up to Nestor. “Tell him he needs to worry about his wife and not my sister.”
Not again. You stood between the two men. “That’s enough,” you pushed Angel back. “I’ll text you Nestor.” You soothed him as you got on Angel’s bike.
Angel peeled off before you could hear Nestor’s reply. Soon, the two of you were pulling into your favorite burger joint. “I already ate.”
“So?” Angel nudged your shoulder. “I’m hungry. You can watch me eat.”
“Why would I want to torture myself like that?” You shuddered at the thought. “Its gonna be the worst horror movie.”
Angel rolled his eyes and gently pushed you into the restaurant. You picked a booth while you waited for Angel to order his food.
He returned with a shake and loaded fries for you, and a shake, curly fries and burger for him. Angel began digging into his food. He didn’t say anything until he was halfway done. “Out of all the men in Santo Padre, why Galindo? You can honestly have any man you want.”
“Not any man,” you mumbled and took a sip of your shake.
Angel tilted your chin. “Yeah, that dumbass too. He loves you.”
“Like a best friend. Like a sister.” The only reason EZ was coming back crying because his heart was shattered because Emily turned out not to be the person, he thought she was. As usual, you were treated like an option. “And to answer your question, Miguel didn’t treat me like a second option. I won’t see him anymore though. Being a side chick is not for me. Maybe I’ll date Medina. Stockton isn’t bad.”
Angel threw his burger down and stared at you. “No more Mayans! And you and EZ are perfect for each other. I actually fought him about it.”
You smacked your lips and kicked him. “No way, you’re lying.”
“True story. It was right after she came to him after the whole thing at the church in Santo Madre.”
They had just gotten back to the clubhouse after that whole thing with Cole and getting that guy over the border. EZ was in a rush because he saw a text from you, and you didn’t seem okay. He needed to check on you.
“Imma clean up and then I’ll talk to Y/N.” EZ told Angel as he walked to the trailer. He knew you were inside the clubhouse waiting for him.
“Aww, you gotta get all pretty for your crush, how sweet.”
“Fuck you,” EZ shoved Angel.
As soon as Angel walked into the clubhouse, he could tell something was wrong. Angel noticed you didn’t have your usual jovial disposition. “What’s wrong killer?” Angel nudged your shoulder.
“Everything. Work, Dad, and just a bad mental health day. Where’s Boy Scout?” You craned your neck to see if EZ walked in.
“Wow, what am I? Chopped liver?” Angel threw up his hands.
“Sorry, Angelito.” You kissed his cheek.
“You’re good,” Angel patted your hand. “He’s in the trailer. I’ll go get him now.”
Angel was in for a surprise when he opened up the trailer door. He was going to kill his little brother. EZ’s over here canoodling with Emily while you needed him.
Emily said her apologies and ran out.
“What are you doing?” Angel kept EZ in the trailer.
“She came to me.”
“She’s all fucked up, Angel.”
“That’s not your worry.”
“And that’s not your call.”
“When we finish this thing with Adelita, you can go tear up all the high school pussy you want. But until then, seeing her? It’s a bad fucking idea. Don’t do it. Better yet, forget about Emily and worry about your best friend. She’s a fucking wreck and needs you. Go be a better friend.” Angel was so pissed off. It wasn’t even the whole Emily situation that had him pissed. It was EZ’s neglect of you.
The boys got into a little tiff until they bump into a family photo. Marisol wouldn’t have wanted that. She hated when they fought.
“I hear you…about Emily. I got your back Angel. No matter what.”
“I got you too hermanito. But you gotta stop being a bitch and man up. You like Y/N. You’ve liked her since fucking middle school. Ask her out. She’s gonna say yes.” He punched EZ in the shoulder.
EZ got up and punched the table. “I know! That’s the problem. Y/N, she,” EZ couldn’t stop smiling as he thought about you. Your smile, your kindness, your lame puns, your beautiful face. “She’s too good for me. Y/N deserves better. The club is great, but what is Y/N going to do with some ex-felon now turned biker? I don’t add any value to her life.”
Angel heart sunk for his brother. He knew the feeling except it was with his actual family. “You’re not doing either one of you any favors by stalling the relationship. But if you insist on being a dumbass, at the very least be there for her. Right now, I could barely see any of the light in her eyes. She’s going through it.”
Angel didn’t notice but you followed behind him. When he got to the trailer, there you saw Emily leave. She looked rough as hell. Like someone beat her up. You heard from EZ about someone kidnapping her kid. You hoped her injuries were from that and not Galindo. From what you heard about him, he was brutal. Even Emily didn’t deserve that.
“Lord give me strength.” You whispered to yourself and ran after Emily.
She cringed when she noticed it was you calling her name. “Yes?”
“You okay? I know you have a lot going on with your family. Do you need anything?” Emily better be grateful that you were trying to be a better person.
Emily sneered and backed away from you. “My family is none of your concern. Besides, what could you possibly do for me?”
Unbelievable. See this is why Michelle Obama had you fucked up with the go higher thing. You were trying to be a good person, and everything backfired. Just as you opened your mouth to say something fucked up, you felt your mother’s spirit. She calmed you down just enough. “My bad. I hope everything turns out fine for you Mrs. Galindo.”
Walking back, you saw Angel walking out of the trailer. He looked a little rough. Right behind him was EZ and he looked just as rough. They must have gotten into it. Idiots.
Angel witnessed your eyes light up when you saw EZ. Yeah, you two were perfect for each other. “Tell her, dumbass.” Angel punched him in the middle of his chest. From afar he watched the two of you interact with each other. If the two of you didn’t get together soon, he was going to have to intervene and play cupid.
EZ was afraid of you? Or more specifically afraid of not being enough for you? No way. “That’s nice Angel, but you don’t have to lie for your brother.”
Angel reached across the booth and flicked your ear. “I’m not lying. You should know better than that.”
“How’s Adelita?” Enough talk about you and your disastrous love life.
Angel threw a fry at you. “Nice try, hermanita, but we will not get off subject.”
Folding your arms on the table, you leaned forward. “That bad, huh?”
Angel threw his body back and groaned. “Yes. I’m a catch, right? Like I’m tall, cute as hell, and I would love the fuck out of that woman. Why won’t she give me a chance?”
You sat on Angel’s side of the booth, kissed him on his cheek, and took a picture of it. “There,” you handed him his phone back with the picture as his lock screen. “Maybe she just needs a little jealousy push.”
“You evil genius,” Angel kissed the side of your head. “Let’s take you home. You have work tonight?”
Angel grabbed your food and threw it away. “Cool, me and the guys-,” You glared at him, because me and the guys meant him, Coco, Gilly, and EZ. “Without EZ,” Angel corrected himself and snapped your helmet on. “Plus, I don’t want Galindo near you.”
Always the overprotective one. You kissed Angel’s cheek. “Have I told you lately that you’re my second favorite Reyes?”
“EZ’s still in first place even if you’re mad at him?” Angel shook his head at you.
“Nope, EZ has always been number 2. Mr. Felipe is always my number 1 Reyes.”
Angel nodded his head. “Fair. Now let’s go. I know you’re gonna be sleepy.”
It had been days since you seen EZ or Miguel. And honestly it was quite refreshing, but it was all coming to an end. Bishop asked if you could bartend for the night. There was supposed to be a big party with the other charters and the Sons. EZ wouldn’t be enough help.
You got there at the time asked. Bishop wanted you to see the inventory so you could see if it would be enough. Unfortunately, it was all a set-up. This was an intervention.
“Fellas, what is this?” You eyed each Mayan. Their concern was too sweet for you not to be annoyed. For some outlaw bikers they were hella cute.
As president, Bishop was the one to speak up. “Princesa, whatever is going on with the Prospect is between you and him, but Galindo we will intervene.”
You kissed each man on the cheek. “Guys, I love every one of you, but trust me nothing is going on between me and Mr. Galindo. In fact, I haven’t spoke to him in days.”
Taza held and kissed your hand. “Keep it that way.”
“Hey, can you at least say hi to the Prospect or something?” Coco blurted. “He’s steadily fucking up thinking about you.”
Between you being mad at him and Angel being mad at him as well, EZ was a wreck. Angel refused to work with him which made everything awkward and EZ was just distracted with thoughts of you. They all caught him multiple times stalking your social media, typing a comment and then deleting it to just type and delete it again.
“Not my problem, Coco Cruz.” You winked at him and went to the supply closet to check out the liquor. In there you found the one man you’ve been avoiding.
“YN,” EZ almost dropped the case of beer. You were the most beautiful sight he seen in days. “How are you doing?”
“I was having a good day and then I saw you, so there’s that.” You brushed past him and looked at all the liquor.
EZ set the case down and thought about what he could say. Nothing was coming to mind. “Baby, talk to me.”
You swung your neck towards him. “I’m not your baby, lets get that straight. And you lost the privilege to talk to me when you put that bitch before me.”
He got that. He understood your anger. This was what he deserved. He should’ve told you his true feelings all those years ago and he wouldn’t have to worry about you and Miguel. “Be mad at me all you want, but it was always you. I was just too much of a dumbass to act on it.”
“Like JoJo said, too little, too late.” You shoved him.
EZ took your wrist and pulled you against him. He could get lost in your big doe eyes forever, even if they were full of anger.
“It’s never too late. I deserve everything, but it’s never too late. I won’t give up, not on you. I’m a fucking idiot, but I will prove to you I fucking deserve you. No amount of apologies will ever make up for what I did, how I disappointed you, but I’ll show you just how sorry I am.”
“Now you want me? Why? Did Emily finally tell you to fuck of? Or you finally saw her as the evil bitch that she is?” You smacked your lips and put your chin in between your fingers as if you were thinking. “Oh, or maybe you just want to use me as your therapist because now you finally understand that she killed your baby out of vindictiveness.”
Your heart slightly broke when you saw EZ drop your wrist and grab onto his kutte. He never told you, but you being an expert in all things EZ, you knew he used that as a defense mechanism. When he felt unsafe or vulnerable, that was his go to stance. He never did that with you. If you weren’t overcome with anger, you would’ve addressed it, but at the moment you couldn’t care.
EZ nodded to himself as he took that jab. “I deserve that. I deserve everything you’re giving to me, but don’t stand here and spout facts like you know how I feel.”
“Actions speak louder than words, Ezekiel!” Your voice was now louder. There was not one fuck given about who could hear your argument.
“I fucking know that, YN!” He was yelling out of frustration more at himself than you. “I’m trying to make that shit up to you. Since middle school I’ve been in love with you. Timing just got in the way.”
It was all a trick. Those words couldn’t have came out of EZ’s mouth. Just as you were about to question him, Angel came in.
“Everything alright?” Angel kept his eyes on you. He wasn’t going to acknowledge EZ’s presence.
“Yeah, we’re good.” You brushed past Angel at the door. Your troubles with EZ was stuffy enough but add in his and Angel’s bullshit it was downright unbreathable.”
For the first time in weeks the brothers were in the same room alone. “Take the liquor to the bar, Prospect.” Angel turned his back on him but then he faced him once more. “Fix this shit with YN, because if she spills another tear over you, I’m beating your ass.”
“I will.” Angel shut the door on EZ before he could finish the sentence.
He was going to keep his word. EZ would earn your trust and love back and then he could work on his brother next.
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OMG I HAVE A IDEA can u do Osamu, kuroo, sakusa with a S/o who is drunk and when the haikyuu character tries to help her/ take care of her she’s like “I have a boyfriend” and acts defensive even tho he is her bf? (Idk if this makes sense but I think it’s so cute)
Thanks for the request babe! Totally makes sense, I promise.
You were our celebrating your promotion with your work colleagues, unfortunately Osamu had to work late at his shop and couldn't make it for the beginning, only coming in near the end. Your friends had decided to start working their way through the cocktail menu and by the time he arrived you were pretty much away with with fairies.
"Babe, why did ya drink so much? Yer gonna be hungover as hell tomorrow."
Osamu sighed as he half carried and half manoeuvred you to the car. By the time he arrived, you were on your 12th drink and he had to grab you off the table and fling you over his shoulder before you started a dance party.
"Excuse me, you... are v'ry pretty...but I have a boyfriend. He's g'na kick your butt."
Osamu snorted as you pointed your finger in his face. Your eyes were closed as you walked and you were carrying your shoes in your hand. The jacket to your suit was slung over his arm as you both walked and he held your handbag in his hand. He couldn't help but laugh as he saw you now, this morning you had looked all put together as you left for work with your hair pinned up and suit pristine. While you looked gorgeous even now, the tidy professional had been replaced with a messy drunkard.
"Really now? Well, I just wanna make sure ya safe. I'll drive ya home to yer boyfriend. Okay?"
You sighed dreamily, leaning into him as you waved your arms around. "'Samu is so lovely. So handsome... he works so... so... hard too." You straightened and pointed your finger in his face, mood now fierce. "But! He's v'ry strong too. He used to be a volleyball player. I miss him wearing those shorts. His ass looked so good."
You held one hand up in front as if squeezing something and your boyfriend couldn't help but shake his head. He had to force himself not to laugh at your words as he put you in the car. Buckling you in, he cushioned your head on your discarded jacket and stroked your hair behind your ear. Your eyes had drifted closed, head lolling on the window as he drove you both back home. As the streets drove by, he could see you from he corner of his eyes. You looked so cute and peaceful propped up on the door and he couldn't help but reach over and caress you face.
As he peered over from the corner of his eyes, he couldn't help but smile at how fierce you defended yourself. He knew you'd never stray, you weren't the type to cheat on him. You were still mumbling about your 'boyfriend' in your drunken haze when you both got home.
As he tucked you into bed, placed some painkillers and a bottle of water on your cabinet. Removing your skirt and tights, he placed them in the wash before pulling down your bra and hanging it on the wardrobe. He knew you would complain in the morning about having wires poking you in the chest. As he climbed into bed, he felt your arms curl around him as you settled onto his chest, your hands patting his ass.
"So pretty 'Samu."
It was your birthday and you were our celebrating with your friends at a local bar. The whole thing had been a surprise, with a huge cake and the venue booked out for the whole night. Between the food and cake, you had drunk your body weight in alcohol while dancing with your friends.
"Tetsuro, come and take your girlfriend home. She's falling asleep."
Glancing at you, he saw your head flop onto the bar as you sat with girlfriends. The shoes you came in had now been discarded on the floor next to you and your hair was down from the ponytail you had put it in. He walked over and scooped you up bridal style.
"Put me down!"
Your words were accompanied by a smack on his arms as he put you into his car. Kuroo laughed as you tried to struggle out his grasp, wiggling to get out.
"My boyfriend is gonna beat you up."
"I'm sure he is kitten".
"Don't call me that. Let go of me!"
Shaking his head, Kuroo opened the back door and slowly put you in, trying his hardest not to smack your head on the roof of the vehicle. Something that proved difficult when you started to move around again.
Bending down and leaning on the door, he reached across and tied your seat belt.
"Look. Let me get you home safely and you can go see your boyfriend ok? I'll even call him now."
You held your pinky finger up to him. "Promise?"
He shook his head and matched his finger to yours, curling it and touching thumbs as you always did. "Promise." Watching as you nodded your head, he closed the door and drove you home, the journey itself was interesting as you kept shouting at him. Tell him he was going the wrong way (he wasn't), telling him you were hungry (he grabbed you some fries and chicken nuggets) and then telling him he was being a pervert for looking at you in the rear view mirror (which he totally was, obviously).
Parking the car and carrying you inside, he shook his head as you started stripping off between the front door and the bedroom, complaining it was too hot. As he trailed after you, he picked up your dress and bra from the floor and put them in the washing basket. Reaching the bedroom, he saw you flat on your face passed out asleep on the bed, looking adorable as hell.
You groaned at him, swatting him away.
Rummaging through his drawers, he grabbed a t shirt and held you up to pull it over your head. While you were hot now, he was well aware that you would be cold in the middle of the night, your feet often blocks of ice as you slept in bed.
Pulling the sheet down the bed around you, he put you in bed and climbed in after you. Immediately you latched onto him, arms and legs tangled with his almost pushing him off the bed.
"Baby, we're gonna fall out the bed."
"I love you Tetsu."
"Love you too kitten."
Sakusa wasn't fond of going out much, it was too loud and everyone was drunk. He didn't like being here and really wanted to go home but you had organised a party for him celebrating his win at Nationals and he didn't want to upset you.
Most of the night had been okay, you had invited a sufficient number of people and chosen a restaurant he approved of. The dress you wore was beautiful, something you had bought with him a few weeks ago. Looking over, he couldn't help but smile seeing how your face lit up when you waved across the room at him. He knew people looked at him odd, you were the opposite of him in every way. Where he was quiet and reserved, you were bubbly and cute, something he loved about you. No matter how you were feeling, you were always positive and smiling.
By the time it got to 1am, Sakusa realised that he hadn't seen you for a while. He had been sitting with his teammates, under your explicit instructions to socialise, but he couldn't see you anywhere. Excusing himself, he walked around to see you chugging champagne from the bottle as you sat in the corner of the bar, your bare feet were swinging and you had discarded your jacket.
"Honey, you're going to be sick."
"Honey." He tried to reach over and take the bottle from you, knowing very well that you would be hungover as hell tomorrow. Champagne and you for some reason didn't end well.
"My boyfriend says it's ok."
For a second, Sakusa stopped and then realised what had happened.
"It's me, love. Kiyoomi. Your boyfriend."
You peered at him, eyes narrowed as you scanned him from head to toe. He looked like your boyfriend. Was dressed like your boyfriend. But why would he be here? Omi hated stuff like this.
"My Omi would never come here. He doesn't like places like this."
Shaking his head, he wiped his hand down his face and stepped closer to you. "Your Omi was forced to come here by his girlfriend. And unfortunately he has a huge soft spot for loud and pushy girlfriends."
You shook your head vehemently. "Nuh uh."
Sighing, Sakusa pried the bottle way from your hands and placed it on the bar away from you. Grabbing you by the hips, he tugged you down and picked up your shoes before helping you to the car. Kiyoomi hadn't drunk much, he didn't like the feeling of being out of control especially in public, so he knew he would be driving you both home.
Placing you in the car and driving you home, he helped you up the stairs and put you carefully on the sofa as he locked the doors and checked everything before opening the covers on the bed for you. When he returned back to the living room, you had fallen asleep with your head back.
"Tsk you're going to hurt your neck that way, love."
Picking you up bridal style, he placed you on the bed before having a quick shower. Not wanting to dirty the clean sheets, he took your tights and dress off before pulling one of your tops over your head. Taking your hair down, something that would annoy you otherwise, he turned off the lights and pulled you close.
"Omi..." You mumbled into his chest.
"This guy tried to hit on me. But I told him I had a boyfriend. He left me alone after that." You nuzzled closer and Kiyoomi smiled as he thought back. "Bet he knew who you were. My strong boyfriend." You patted his chest lovingly.
"Good night love."
"Night night, Omi"
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Hii! Can I pls request for tsukki, akaashi, and kenma’s fem s/o meeting the team for the first time? And like the time doesn’t know that they have an s/o? Headcanons pls! Thanks 😊
a/n: omg a haikyuu request finallyyy thank you anon, ive been wanting to write for my haikyuu boys but had no inspiration. also some feedback would be very appreciated because i’m worried that my portrayal of them might be a little ooc, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!
pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader, akaashi x fem!reader, and kenma x fem!reader
taglist: @katsushimaa @meliorist-midoriya @bbakougo @grow-a-smile-for-a-while @finndaydreams @deephasoceanmagic @nieve-blancas @bunnythepipsqueak
he tries to hide you from the team for as long as possible, not because he’s embarrassed of you
but because he knows that he’s going to get teased and also because he’s embarrassed of his teammates
specifically two teammates
everyone else only found out because you came into the gym, wondering where your boyfriend was since practice was going on for longer than usual
“excuse me do you know when practice is going to be over?” you walked in, just to ask yachi since you didn’t want to disturb everyone else
“i’m not sure sorry, but um who are you?” the poor girl is confused to why you’re asking because she doesn’t know you.
“oh i’m tsukki’s girlfriend, (y/n)! i was just waiting for him, so i’ll be outs—“
hearing the words girlfriend, and tsukki together definitely caught the attention of yachi. well actually it caught the attention of a most everyone in the gym.
the practice match they were playing literally paused, eyes wandering to you then going to the tall blonde. it continued like that for a little bit since EVERYONE was wondering how tsukishima got a girlfriend.
honestly i’m surprised too like what the hell youre so adorable and too good for him
“TSUKISHIMA I CANT BELIEVE YOU DIDNT TELL US YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!” suga(mama) was the first to break the stunned silence. as he passed by the middle blocker, going to greet you, he made sure to give the poor boy a karate chop on his side as he passed by. suga only did this because he was hurt that tsukishima never mentioned you
tsukishima was literally shocked by that karate chop because he’s never been on the receiving end of one, definitely has more respect for daichi now since he always get chopped
the next to react were none other than tanaka and nishinoya. they rushed over to the middle blocker and started to bombarde him with questions and mostly teasing
“oooo tsukishima you have a girlfriend!”
“tsukishima you can always come to your senpai if you need help with this relationship”
“how did you get such a cute girlfriend anyways?”
“-just be careful when you grab because-“
tsukishima became so annoyed, “can you both shut up, you’ve never even had another girl like you back.”
that, that definitely hurt their feelings. cue the emo music
actually that made them realize that tsukishima for a girlfriend before they did, so now they were going over to kiyoko and asking for her to be their girlfriend. poor kiyoko i swear
suga and daichi (ugh mom and dad are so cute) start to converse with you, daichi apologizing for everyone’s behavior while suga was congratulating you for being able to handle tsukishima
the only person who wasn’t surprised was yamaguchi of course, who do you think tsukishima went to when he realized he had feelings for you?
kageyama really just, didn’t care at all. if anything he was kinda annoyed because this was eating into their practice time. you had nothing to do with volleyball afterall
very rude kageyama
hinata was waiting behind daichi and suga so that he could ask you question, so when those two stepped away to go back to practice. the orange haired boy was practically bouncing in excitement, he was about to open his mouth when a hand came over it
tsukishima had come to your rescue, he noticed you were looking a bit overwhelmed with suddenly being thrust into the spotlight. honestly he didn’t like it either. “come on (y/n), let’s go.”
your tense feeling was immediately eased, you mouthed a small thank you to him then looked back to his team. “it was nice meeting you all, hopefully next time we can talk properly— ah tsukki don’t pull so hard.”
tsukishima was dragging you out of the gym because one, he was tired, and two because he never wanted to experience that again. especially suga’s karate chops
you were probably never going to show up to a practice again because it was a distraction for other, especially tsukishima, but you were always there during the games because you were one of his biggest supporters for volleyball afterall
also tsukishima only wants you to watch the games because he wants you to think he looks cool while playing volleyball, only so he can brag to you about it later or hear you fan girling about his blocks
akaashi really wants you to meet his team, because volleyball is very important to him and so are you. it only seemed fitting
however you were always busy with other things so it took a month after you guys started dating before you could come meet everyone
you arrived just as they were finishing up some drills, just before they finished for the day. akaashi saw you coming into the gym, giving you a small smile right before he set a final ball to bokuto.
akaashi started to head over to you, but bokuto didn’t want him too since he just wanted to hit one more ball. just one more perfect straight.
akaashi explained that he needed to see you, his girlfriend, so do you know that time it is?
it’s bokuto emo mode time
“fine! if you really cared about me and volleyball you’d stay, but go. leave me for all i care.” this adorable dramatic idiot i swear, i still love him though
akaashi spares his best friend a glance then just nods, jogging over to you with no hesitation. also yes bokuto knows about you, he knew if bokuto didn’t know he had a girlfriend he would be devastated for way too long
other teammates notice akaashi heading over to you which makes them confused, they’ve never seen you before.
the setter comes up to you, giving you a hug, like the adorable boyfriend he is. akaashi hit me up
if the boys weren’t confused before they were now, and just to further that confusion he took your hand and walked with you towards his teammates
oh and don’t think that he wasn’t asking you how your day was and such, he’s always going to be considerate of you. he’s really the nicest boyfriend ever
“everyone i want you to meet (y/n), she is my girlfriend.”
it now made sense to who you were, but no one was very surprised. well maybe a little surprised but, akaashi was a good person so they could see him with someone
also they all know he’s pretty so of course girls would be going after him
you politely smile and wave at everyone, “hello, i’m sorry for the intrusion but akaashi wanted me to meet you.”
konoha immediately picked up on the fact that you called akaashi, akaashi and not keiji. “akaashi you still have her call you akaashi?”
the others nodded in agreement, you guys were dating so why the formality
you smiled sheepishly, cutting in before your boyfriend could talk, since he also looked confused. “ah sorry, i just. i wasn’t sure if i should call him keiji, i wanted to be polite.”
that, that was the moment you captured everyone’s heart. you’re little embarrassed expression, just because you wanted to be polite? approval straight away
komi jumped forward, smiling as he put his hands on your shoulders. “(y/n)! you don’t need to be polite, in fact how did akaashi ask you out? or was he too shy and you made the first move?”
komi and konoha proceeded to ask you question about your relationship with akaashi. mostly curious but maybe also because they wanted to tease their setter later if they heard anything silly
when you were finally finished answering questions, you joined akaashi who was talking to bokuto
“bokuto-san please calm down, i’ll set to you more next practice.”
it seemed that akaashi was still trying to lift bokuto’s spirits from earlier, you knew about his infamous emo mode. akaashi sometimes would ask you advice for how to handle him, but it was rare since the male could handle his best friend
“bokuto, i saw your last spike, it was really amazing! if anything you need to rest too, because that’s how your muscles get stronger!”
bokuto blinked twice as he processed your words, his slightly slouched posture and sad demanour straightened up. literally.
“you really think so (y/n)?” his lips were pulled into a pout and eyes were shining like pouting puppy eyes.
“of course bokuto!”
the owl haired boy inhaled deeply as his chest swelled with pride. “you’re right! i will rest and spike even harder tomorrow!”
the ace walked off, full of pride once again, leaving just you and akaashi. he looked at you and offered you a small smile, “thank you (y/n), i’m glad everyone likes you.” he reached over, placing his hand in the top of your head to gently pat and rub your head in appreciation. you smile up at him, nodding. after that he makes sure to walk you home, giving you a sweet goodnight kiss
dang i want head pats too, also catch bokuto also asking for head pats of praise from akaashi during their next practice
kenma was wary about letting you meet his team, only because he knew it would be a whole ordeal that he was in a relationship
but a week after you guys started dating, you went to one of kenma’s games wanting to cheer him on.
so there you were on the stands, chanting with everyone else and cheering for the team and kenma as well
at the end of the game, you rushed down to the halls where the team would be after just winning their match.
as soon as you saw kenma, a wide grin spread across your face. “congratulations on winning kozume! that last dump you did was so cool!”
the stoic setter saw you, a small sigh leaving his lips because he knew that everyone would wonder who you were. so to avoid the hassle he quickly walked up to you, gently grabbed your hand and straight up walked away from the rest of his team
and as expected, he was right. everyone else just kinda stood there in shock and very confused because they had no clue who you were. they were just watching the two of you walk away, kenma mumbling to you about how he was grateful for your support, but just wanted his hand held game console back
the whole team just turned to kuroo, since he was the only one grinning during the whole situation. “did you not know? that’s kenma’s girlfriend.”
kuroo of course knew because who else would kenma turn to when he figured out he had feelings towards you? of course it would be his best friend and personal idiot
jaws just on the floor, and man did kuroo think it was funny to see everyone’s expressions
the next practice yamamoto and lev come up to kenma immediately
“KENMAA WHY DID YOU TELL US YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND?” poor kenma because he was just trying to play his game and nearly dropped it, if he did oh yamamoto would probably have been murdered
kenma’s face twisted in a look of annoyance, “i didn’t think it was important that’s all.” he brushed the topic off, not wanting to make a big deal of it because he didn’t see it as one
yamamoto was personally offended by kenma’s words because um, kenma had a girlfriend and he didn’t. “not a big deal? KENMA HOW C-“
“yamamoto, shut up.” kuroo cut in because kenma was just getting more annoyed, and also because he was just being too loud
poor yamamoto, he also wanted to know if you had cute friends. but also knowing him, he would probably run away if he met said cute friends
however it didn’t stop lev from following after kenma, “hey hey kenma, how did you even get a girlfriend?
for once kenma would rather play volleyball then answer these questions about you. it’s not like he doesn’t want to talk about you, it’s just he doesn’t feel the need to share about his relationship
luckily they stopped bugging him, but when you showed up at the end of practice, the attention was brought back to the both of yours relationship
but instead of lev or yamamoto going up to him, they went to you instead.
“hey kenma’s girlfriend, why do you like kenma? don’t you think he’s too quiet?”
“do you have any cute friends by any chance.”
“also you’re short, but maybe taller than yaku..”
lev was then immediately kicked by yaku, you think he would learn by now
you were kinda overwhelmed by the two guys, especially lev because he was well, tall. you laughed sheepishly, taking a step back from them
kenma quickly picked up on your discomfort and speed walks over to you, kuroo has only seem him walk this fast when going to the bame store
the setter stepped in between you and his two teammates, shooting them a glare and small frown. “leave (y/n) alone, she is none of your business.”
after that yaku drags away lev before he could continue pestering or start teasing, while kai leads yamamoto away to console him about wanting to also have a cute girlfriend
that left you and kenma, and wow you were kinda stunned by kenma coming to your rescue. because you know that he isn’t the most expressive or affectionate but this action threw away any possible doubts you had before
kenma made sure to walk you all the way home that day to make up for his annoying teammates. lucky for him the topic of his relationship didn’t come up again. besides he didn’t want to share all the precious moments he has with you anyways, you were all his afterall
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Hello! I hope you're having wonderful day or night! I also wanted to say I really enjoy your writing and that you are very talented!
I wanted to request a headcanon of Marco, Ace, Sabo, and Sanji catching their fem! s/o staring at a huge wedding dress display in a wedding shop on an island with a solemn smile. Because while she loves them, she wonders if they'll ever have the chance to get married and walk down the aisle like she's always dreamed of during her childhood.
I hope your night/day is wonderful too, you sweet anon! I appreciate your support and love for this blog!!
This sounds so cute! I just love soft moments like this! 🥰🥰
(am I soft blog now? Idk man, just give me those soft feels-)
Marco the Phoenix
Marco is an easy going man, he’s experienced a lot in his years as a pirate and has learned to take things at a steady pace, and that includes his relationship with you.
Despite that, he is still a human who wants human things, and that includes one day being with you in a stable relationship. He figured once someone took over for Whitebeard, he would retire, but after Whitebeard’s death, it became more staggered on if he will retire.
He knew you held no resentment towards him and that your look was nothing more than an innocent passing, he can’t help but see it though and feel his heart ache. He stops walking and looks at the dress with you, also wondering about the what-ifs.
Perhaps it was time to start thinking about his future rather than the crew’s, it was selfish in nature he knew, but he felt he had did his part and deserved this chance. Somewhere inside his brain he can feel Whitebeard’s approval, bidding him a goodbye for now and will wait to see him again.
Portgas D. Ace
Ace never though of getting married, hell he never thought he would have the opportunity to date either. Yet, here he was with you, hand in hand, staring at a wedding dress.
A slight blush graced his freckled cheeks as he asked if you wanted to try it on, shaking your head, you stated it just happened to catch your eye and nothing more, the brunet nodded and continued to walk into town with you.
Throughout the day, he couldn’t get the idea of you in a wedding dress out of his head, and if you wouldn’t try it on, he would have to find a way to get you in one. The thought made it the second time he blushed today, realizing the only way to get you in that dress is to marry you. When you asked about his flushed appearance, he only stated he found some spicy food to finally win him over.
Taking time to look around the town with you some more, his eyes perked up at seeing a small jewelry shop. Maybe he could find a way to sneak over there without your knowledge. He figured that was the easiest part, but once he had the ring, he knew he would struggle presenting it to you. Maybe he could leave it on your bedside table with a note, yeah that seemed like a safe bet.
Sabo is a busy man, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice little things that you do. Seeing your solemn expression as you looked at the dress reminded him of his childhood and his broken expectations of the world.
You both knew how insane the life of a rebel could be, as you both lived it so perfectly. Though he supposed, you looked at the dress with a perspective of what the future could look like, IF the rebels won. Maybe a happy life at the end of insanity was your motivation to keep fighting.
He takes your hand in his, and smiles slightly, reminding you to continue to think of the future if it helps, but also not to forget how important the present time can be. He hopes it’s a good enough answer for now, letting you know he does value you, but knows now isn’t the time for marriage.
He’ll do his best to distract you, showing you a sweets shop or a small store that sells figurines. Using the moment to push his belief that all that matters now is the present, you two can worry about the future another time.
Sanji was probably staring at the dress with you, both of you face each other and laugh awkwardly with matching blushes on each of your faces. He can’t help but be a helpless romantic, especially when it comes to you!
He’s planned his wedding since he was a kid, one of the few men in the show that loves the idea of being with someone for the rest of your life and finds the whole ceremony to be romantic and sentimental.
he’ll give you the puppy dog eyes and ask if you can try on dresses, he knows he shouldn’t see you in the wedding dress, but states he wants to prepare himself so when the day comes he won’t die from a nosebleed (he will still have one-). If you agree, the man will happily roam inside and check out every dress and style, wanting to see you in everything!
Hopes to have a beautiful wedding! He doesn’t care about the size, but rather the people who come! He also wants to serve the food! I can see you getting married on the Sunny for sure! He will definitely invite Zeff and tell him how lucky he is to marry such a beautiful woman!
Tag List: @chloe-nanami @musical-apple @luxiditea @macdonaldsmanager @onepieceya @undercoverweeeb @athenaportgas and whoever else wants to join in!
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You and Your Everything - Shouto Todoroki x Reader
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi
MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist
WARNINGS: Your parents being the absolute worst, a few minor curse words, a lil angsty
Requested by Anonymous:
HI i love your writing and i saw that your requests were open? i was wondering if you could do like a shoto x reader but instead y/ns parents are like the opposite of shoto and endeavor? like for an example how shoto wants nothing to do with his dad and and all y/n wants to do is please her parents or make them happy since they never pay attention to her like that? both house holds are still toxic but i feel like thatd be an interesting dynamic
A/N: This was so interesting and cool to write! Obviously, the subject matter was much angstier and sadder than a lot of the stuff I have written, but I found writing this, like, entire paragraph of dialogue of Shouto (you’ll know it when you see it) to be so entirely incredible. I just kept on writing. Thank you so much for this awesome rec!
Word Count: 1.8K
“You’ve reached the voicemail of Kana Y/L/N. Please leave a message. BEEP”
“Hi Mom, it’s me again. Just calling to remind you that third years are allowed to reserve a box for their parents in the Sports Festival arena! I saved one for you and Dad in the front row, which are the best seats in the whole place. The Festival takes place tomorrow, as I told you guys about three months ago so you could put it on your calendars. I’m, uh, looking forward to seeing you again! Love you, bye!” Pressing the red circle that represented an “end call” button, you heaved a sigh and looked through your recent calls. Nine recent calls that your mother had missed within the last three days. Ten that your father had. They’re just busy, you tell yourself, trying to ease your mind. They’re just busy right now, but they had said that they’d come. They’ll come. Your thoughts had consumed you to such a point you didn’t even register the little nudges to your side.
“.../N? Y/N?” You blinked quickly to rid your consciousness of its prior dilemma and turn your head to the side. With heterochromatic eyes blinking fondly at you matched with a slight frown of concern, your boyfriend prompts the same question that had earlier feel upon deaf ears. “Y/N, I was asking if you are alright. You seemed a little… not here when I asked you just a minute ago.” Shouto’s voice, like always, is level, however little hints of emotion always tend to slip in between the cracks of his pronunciations. Like now, for instance, you hear the traces of worry cling onto his words.
“Oh, sorry, I was just leaving a voicemail.” You say simply. The sentence that left your mouth would seem normal to any person that you were friendly with. However, Shouto knew the implications. His shoulders seemed to tense as he took your hand. You squeeze his hand to reassure him. “Don’t worry Sho, they’re just really busy people. I’m sure they definitely carved time out of their schedules to come and watch me. I just need to make sure I get into the tournament round so I don’t waste their time.” You say, laughing a little dryly. Shouto doesn’t smile at the joke you made at your own expense.
“I just don’t get it.” He says, which makes your smile drop into a frown. “Why do you try so hard for them.” Your spine straightens at his words and your grip on his hand loosens. “Y/N, they’re awful people-”
“They’re my parents and I want to make them proud.” You say swiftly, a slight grimace on your face. Silence settles between the two of you, that is, until you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Jumping up immediately and grabbing your phone, you take a glance at the caller ID. Your heart sinks as you see it’s a random telemarketer, and click decline call. You look back to your boyfriend, which was a mistake, because his eyes pooled with pity. Not feeling quite right in the space you were in, you grab your school bag and stuff your phone the furthest down it would go. “I’m going to go freshen up before dinner.” You decide, nodding towards Shouto and walking away a bit.
“Do you want me to come with you?” His suggestion on a normal basis would make your face flush and your heart beat a bit faster, however today you just wanted to be alone for a bit.
“No, it’s okay, I’ll see you at dinner.” You say quickly.
“Y/N.” His grip came softly around your wrist, tugging you back a bit to face him. “I’m… I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I just love you,” he said those last two words a bit softer than the others, “and I want to see you happy.” Butterflies took flight in the pit of your stomach as you held Shouto’s gaze, his heartfelt and earnest words weighing heavily within your heart. Your frown wobbles into a smile as you lean in to place a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Did you see me out there?!” You cheer, careening down the arena hallway towards where Shouto was waiting with open arms. You leapt directly into them and was quickly picked up and spun around in a little circle.
“I did, you were incredible.” Shouto gushes, his cheek squished against yours. You laughed joyously as you felt his arms squeeze you closer to him, your heart racing with both leftover adrenaline from your second round tournament match and the feeling of love from your boyfriend. However, your laughter and the embrace you were tucked into died down when you heard the faint clearing of a throat, causing both of you to turn towards the sound. If you were looking into a mirror, you’re sure you would see your eyes grow to the size of saucers and your jaw dropping just a tad at the sight before you. There, standing about ten paces away, were your parents. Your mother, with her hair tied back in an uncomfortable looking bun with her freshly pressed pencil skirt and matching career jacket. Your father at her side, his suit and pants looking as sharp as ever. And the expressions they held…
“M-mother? Father? You two made it?” You stammer out, dumbfounded at their appearance. “But I, uh, didn’t see either of you in the stands.” You admit, earning a nonchalant expression from both parents.
“Well, with that lackluster performance that you executed, did you really think we would want to show our faces? It’s bad enough our colleagues know of you and all your little failures that you like to categorize as triumphs. Honestly, you really thought that we would want to be on camera for the entire world to see?” Your mother’s bored tone and biting words struck you hard. You felt your spine straighten and your hands stick to your side as you bit the inside of your cheek.
“But… I won.” You said, so soft that the sound of someone’s heartbeat could overpower it. If your gaze wasn’t stuck to your parents’ forms, you would have seen Shouto’s eyebrows narrow, awaiting for the oncoming onslaught.
“Good Lord, you want to call that a win? It makes me wonder how you ever got into this school or passed any physical examination in your class.” Your father’s tone, just as bored and apathetic as your mother’s, sent trembles down your spine. You clenched your fists and jaw to try and prevent crying. But, of course, it was of no use. The tears trickled their way, one by one, down your cheek like raindrops on a car window.
“And you’re crying now. Fantastic.” Your mother retorts, turning her to your father now. “I told you we should have sent her directly to the Hero Public Safety Commission. Would’ve toughened her up in no time-”
“CAN’T YOU SEE SHE’S UPSET?!” You almost didn’t recognize his voice. The soft spoken, pensive Shouto Todoroki that you knew to be your boyfriend rarely got upset. When he did, it was almost always in the middle of a battle or fight, just as he was about to use a special move. But this time, it was pure rage and anger that clung onto his words. Your parents, now sprouting an expression of slight surprise turned their attention to the seething red-and-white haired boy at your side. “All she ever does is work to make you happy. Day and night, twenty-four seven, it’s for you. And now here you come, strutting back into her life with some agenda on how she should fight and how much of a so-called failure she is?! Well screw that! You don’t get to have an opinion when it comes to her! She has been trying to get a hold of both of you for months on end and getting no more than the same damn message from your voicemails, telling her that you’re too busy for her!” Shouto’s face was red now. His fists were balled up and the tiniest flecks of flames were flaking from his left side. “And then, you’re now finally here, and you come with this holier-than-thou attitude! Y/N L//N, your daughter, is the most incredible and capable person I have met in my entire life. The fact that a person like her can rise like a phoenix from the ashes that is your attitudes and parenting styles is a miracle, because in every way, shape and form, she will forever be a marvel. To me, to our classmates, and to the entire world. I just can’t wait to see the look on your sorry asses when the time comes for her to give her thank you speech after becoming the number one hero, and you don’t hear either of your names mentioned once.” The silence is deafening after Shouto finishes speaking. You feel your whole body trembling and can recognize that there are tears falling down past your cheeks, but nothing else. Nothing else, until that constricting feeling that you felt bound to you to your parents’ approval starts to loosen the moment Shouto takes your hand in his.
“Let’s go.” Your words, merely more than a whisper, is all it takes for Shouto to wrap and arm around your waist as he marches past your dumbstruck parents, towards a private room. The second Shouto clicks the lock shut, you let yourself break down. Sobs racked your body as you clung onto his shirt, his arm, and his love. “They’re supposed to be my parents. How… I can’t even do anything.” You hiccup into his tear-stained gym uniform, the one identical to yours (without the blotches of tears).
“Hey, shh, you’re okay. You’re fine.” Shouto says, his reassuring words grounding you. “You will get through this whole… mess, okay? I know you can. All you need to do is take it one day at a time.” You nod into his chest and let your head lie there as the tears finally started to cease from falling.
“You, uh, probably have to get ready for your match, right?” You sniff, moving one of your hands up to your face to rub at your nose.
“I’m fine here.” Shouto says, wrapping his arms around you. “Y/N, you really were incredible out there. Do not let them make you think otherwise.” You nod again as you feel Shouto begin to play lightly with your hair. “You are enough. More than, in fact. They might think otherwise, but I don’t. I love you, and your smile, and your everything.” You were too fried emotionally to say anything back, but Shouto knew. He knew that it would take time to finally break from your parents’ psychological hold over you and that he would always be there at your side.
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BSD STAGE Dead Apple Spoilers
Mainly a report on the additional scenes or scenes that hugely differ from the movie
PLS DO NOT REPOST AND SPREAD IRRESPONSIBLY
Tag spoiler posts, Credit as necessary
All photos come from the official press release
Please read these points before proceeding! ↓ ↓ ↓
Summary of the BSD Stage Dead Apple Synopsis
Under the cut for Spoilers!
The play starts with Atsushi looking for Dazai (as tasked by Kunikida to attend the ADA mtg) Differing from the movie, he doesn't find him.
Atsushi meets Shibusawa on the street instead when Shibusawa saved an elderly crossing the street, making him think that Shibusawa is a kind person.
Atsushi thinks that they have met somewhere before but can't remember it exactly.
Kyouka then meets Atsushi about the Ability Users Suicide Case.
▼Akutagawa pursues Shibusawa
Chuuya and Akutagawa are talking on the phone. Akutagawa is tasked to pursue Shibusawa as the perpetrator of the Dragon Head Conflict.
However, Akutagawa was physically attacked by Dazai from behind - he snapped Aku’s neck, then stepped on him - causing him to lose consciousness (though he recognizes Dazai before passing out).
Dazai then comes with Shibusawa.
▼Chuuya and Akutagawa scene
The day when Dazai took Akutagawa to the Port Mafia is shown. Akutagawa wakes up from the dream and remembers Dazai attacked him.
An Ability user suddenly comes out of nowhere. Akutagawa fights him and realizes that he can't use Rashomon.
Chuuya comes to save him. Apparently, it's an Ability that got separated from its user.
Chuuya then explains Shibusawa's Ability and says that the mist engulfing Yokohama is actually the breath of a dragon.
Akutagawa then asks why Chuuya's Ability doesn't separate from him.
Chuuya answers that his Ability is quite special and isn't something small that can be taken easily by this fog. And if his Ability happens to separate from him, it will be the end of Yokohama.
Chuuya gives Akutagawa a new mission - to kill Dazai, because he's the one who took Shibusawa to Yokohama.
Akutagawa laughs, saying that he doesn't believe that because the Dazai now wants peace in Yokohama.
Chuuya laughs at him. He says that he's known Dazai for 7 years and were once partners so he knows Dazai - he knows that no one can tell what Dazai is thinking. There's a monster inside Dazai that no one can understand.
Aku claims that he can understand Dazai so Chuuya asks him why Dazai left the Mafia, but Aku couldn't answer. Chuuya says that he doesn't care if Aku looks up to Dazai but as for him, he's never looked up to Dazai even once. He then tells him to his face that Aku going all "Dazai-san, Dazai-san" and accepting everything he says - is probably the reason why Dazai doesn't approve of him.
Aku gets mad and attacks him to no avail. Chuuya taunts him further saying that if he doesn't do something about this mist, he'll remain weak.
Rashomon appears in the background. Chuuya says that Rashomon is just looking at him and not attacking him as if putting Aku to a test.
Chuuya says that without his Ability, Aku can never land a single punch at him.
Aku accepts the mission and says that he will beat Chuuya right after.
▼White Trio at Mukurotoride
Dazai walks to the center. There's a voice-over of Oda when he told Dazai that the good or bad side doesn't make much difference to him.
Dazai says he's happy working with him.
Fyodor arrives saying that Shibusawa shouldn't believe Dazai. (Fyodor does a mini violin performance, talk about grand entrance lol)
It seems that Dazai didn't know beforehand that Fyodor is part of the plan.
Fyodor says that he's just a rat on the side that will help a bit.
Dazai realizes that Fyodor's role is to keep him in check.
Shibusawa says that he can actually accomplish all his plans on his own without them, but it would be boring.
Dazai agrees that it indeed wouldn't be boring because no one knows who will betray who.
▼Atsushi, Aku, Kyouka in the Mafia passage
Atsushi argues with Aku on the way, saying things that it's his fault that Kyouka suffered in the Mafia. He told them that he should never come close to Kyouka ever and talk as if he knows her.
Aku then retorts back asking Atsushi what he actually knows about Kyouka.
Atsushi says that he knows a lot stating things like Kyouka likes tofu and bunnies, and hates lightning.
Aku asks him about her past but Atsushi wasn't able to answer. Aku narrates that Kyouka's parents were killed by Demon Snow and she was picked up by the Mafia, and was then trained by a Port Mafia Executive known as the best Assassin in the world (in reference to Verlaine).
Aku then adds that he also knows that Kyouka hates flies and dogs, and likes ghosts and hydrangeas. He knows more about Kyouka so it's his win.
Unable to come up with other things about Kyouka, Atsushi resorts to bickering.
Atsushi: You're a sore loser!
Aku: Orphanage castaway!
Sushi, visibly hurt from Aku's comeback: You don't change clothes!
Aku, visibly hurt from Sushi's comeback: I wash it every time!
Sushi: Huh? Do you also wear that when sleeping?
Aku: I'm gonna kill you!
They were then stopped by Kyouka.
Before they go out of the passageway, Kyouka attempts to check if her phone can connect somewhere.
Aku gently stops her telling her that that phone is the one used to control her Ability and would be bad if it connects.
Kyouka says that there's nothing to worry about because there's no signal.
Kyouka asks him if Aku tried the Mafia's communication device and Aku says that it can't connect too.
(Note: When Aku talks to Kyouka his voice is calm and softer than usual)
Atsushi, feeling out of place, silently watches them from the side. "You two, you actually get along well, huh..."
▼Demon Snow Battle
The trio go back outside the streets and comes to face Demon Snow. They ran back to the Mafia passageway but Demon Snow just follows them and slices the door. Byakko then also appears.
Kyouka's phone rings. When she answers it, the scene flashbacks to the time when her parents died (same scene with the manga) with her mom explaining what truly happened, and then advises Kyouka how to control Demon Snow.
They were able to beat Demon Snow after and the Ability goes back to Kyouka.
▼More Aku, Atsushi, and Kyouka
Aku, Atsushi, and Kyouka continue to walk in the mist-covered street. Atsushi suggests to Kyouka that they should hold hands so they don't get separated. Kyouka agreed and held out her hand, but then asked Atsushi about Aku.
Kyouka: Should I hold his hand?
Sushi: No way!
Kyouka: Then you should hold his hand
Sushi: Ehhhh, t-there's no way I would... i-it's Akutagawa...
Sushi: Aahh, there are no other hands in here so fine!
Atsushi settles to offer the dangling part of his belt for Aku to hold on to (lol he's pointing his ass in the process because the belt is on his back like a tail). Aku reaches for it, but was taken away by Rashomon before Atsushi and Kyouka can see him
▼Aku vs Rashomon Battle
Aku uses his gun to fight against Rashomon. Just when he thought he won, he is then caught and pierced by Rashomon. At first Aku thought that Rashomon is fighting him to test if he's worth it as Rashomon's "owner", but then realized that Rashomon is actually filled with wrath - Aku's wrath towards his weak self.
Scenes flashback to Chuuya telling Aku why Dazai doesn't approve of him, of Atsushi telling him that he lost against him and is still not recognized by Dazai, and of Dazai telling him that his new subordinate is better and he doesn't need Aku.
Aku makes Rashomon remember all these, of what they went through, of what they are mad about, of what they both desire. If Aku doesn't beat Rashomon then he will be a part of Shibusawa's collection and will never get what they desire.
Before Rashomon ends Aku, he sets the bomb off and beats him eventually.
Aku returns to Atsushi and Kyouka thereafter, and Atsushi was surprised to see him covered in bruises.
▼White Trio Betrayal Scene
Fyodor sees Dazai suspiciously trying to enter the Draconia room. They went inside after Fyodor tells him that Shibusawa is not there. Dazai reveals his motives to Fyodor, and Fyodor hands him the crystals. Before Dazai can touch them Shibusawa stabs him from behind. Dazai dies. (scenes are almost the same as the movie)
After Dazai dies, Shibusawa also kills Fyodor, grabbing him on the top of his head, lifting him up, and then breaking his neck.
Shibusawa laughs (like a villain) saying that his plans succeeded.
▼More Aku, Atsushi, and Kyouka
Aku, Atsushi, and Kyouka are riding an elevator, standing side by side. Because the ride is taking quite long, Atsushi tries to make small talk to relieve the awkward atmosphere.
Sushi: Your Ability has returned to you, right? How does it feel?
Aku: None of your business.
Sushi: Looking from this angle, your nose looks nice. (literally "you have a high-bridged nose" used as a compliment in Jp)
Sushi: Aahh, with this three the talk is going nowhere..
Kyouka: *tries to narrate Momotaro (a popular Jp folklore)*
Sushi: Ah, I'm sorry Kyouka-chan, I didn't mean to force you
▼Chuuya at the Special Ability Dept
Chuuya arrives at the Special Ability Department Office. He is stopped by the guards but Chuuya beats them all (fight scenes were shown).
Chuuya arrives at the main office, but Ango is only showing up in the scene via a video screen. Tsujimura is in the office btw.
Chuuya and Ango talk about the government's involvement with Shibusawa (same with the movie).
Chuuya threatens Ango that he will kill the people in the office if Ango doesn't tell him about the case of Shibusawa now.
Shibusawa takes Dazai's Ability crystal, but realizes that it is not the one he's been looking for.
Fyodor suddenly appears from his back, shooting Shibusawa with a gun.
Apparently, the one Shibusawa killed earlier was not Fyodor himself, but his separated Ability.
Fyodor then kills Shibusawa with a knife, making him remember his death (same with the movie).
Fyodor does his poetry speech about the dragon lol
The dragon appears as animation in the background.
Deadly Drive plays as bg music after!
Ango asks Chuuya to fight the dragon, believing that only his Ability can do it just as when they fought Guivre in the past.
Chuuya complains that the government just always does nothing but order people around while not getting their hands dirty.
He accepts the mission and asks Ango's life in return.
▼Chuuya vs Dragon
Plane scene with Tsujimura is almost the same as the movie. Chuuya throws his gloves and activates Corruption.
This scene involves his actor Uechan flying in a harness, where he did flips a few times. On his background is an animation of the levitated rubbles and the building he used to throw at the dragon.
Bless Uechan's throat for all the screaming
Chuuya shouts Dazai's name, and punches him waking him up. Dazai touches his cheek to deactivate Corruption. (Same lines with the movie, yes Dazai is still Snow White)
Chuuya asks him to let go but Dazai refuses saying that the place they are in is where the mist is the most concentrated and Arahabaki will end up separating from him.
▼Atsushi reflection with Byakko
Atsushi realizes that the orphanage director must have known that he killed Shibusawa, but wondered why he never told him.
The orphanage director appears at the end saying that he hid the truth from Atsushi because he thought Atsushi wouldn't be able to accept it and would be crushed (mentally) once he knew about himself.
Bokura plays in the bg
Dazai arrives saying that Atsushi was saved because of them
Atsushi butts in saying that Dazai was the one who did
(same lines with the movie)
After Atsushi says the "more beautiful" line, Oda's voice-over plays when he told Dazai to go to the side that saves people because that's a little bit more beautiful.
Ango calls Chuuya saying that the battle is finished thanks to them, and now he's ready to give his life in return.
Chuuya just laughs at him saying that his life isn't enough to pay for this. He also tells him that he understands that Ango was just a small fry in the government six years ago so wasn't able to do anything about the Shibusawa case. Ango thanks him but still tries to insist but Chuuya hangs up.
Akutagawa shows up, but he doesn't bow at Chuuya (unlike in the movie) and just continues walking after Chuuya told him that Dazai is alive. Chuuya calls him to lend his shoulder because he can't move and gestures him to come closer.
Aku does and Chuuya laughs at how unwilling he looks and asks if Aku is still mad that Chuuya called him weak. Aku says that he's not bothered at all.
Chuuya tells him that he shouldn't worry because they're both included in Dazai's plans, which means that Dazai thinks that they are essential in beating Shibusawa.
Aku remains silent. Chuuya then tells him that as Dazai's ex-partner, he's gonna say it - that Dazai approves of Aku. At the very least, Chuuya does approve of him too.
Aku just says that he's nothing compared to Chuuya.
Atsushi and Kyouka are back at the Agency, where they wave off to everyone as they go on a new mission.
Voice-overs of the ADA stage play cast were played sending them off.
Tanizaki: Take care!
Naomi: Stay safe!
Kunikida: Don't forget your report after.
Ranpo: Get me sweets on your way home!
Yosano: If possible, go back here with injuries, okay?
Kenji: Let's eat some gyudon later!
Fukuzawa: Atsushi, Kyouka, take care and come back safely.
Chuuya talks to Mori on the phone, reporting that the mission has been accomplished.
However, he gets instructed to do the send-off or the farewell greeting to the fans on the stage.
Chuuya, angrily to the audience: What are you looking at, huh?
Send-off? *takes a sit elegantly and stares at the crowd*
Ugh, okay,, *stands up*
Be careful not to be engulfed by the mist when you go home, okay? See ya.
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