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#working on the cover then prologue
mummer · 7 months
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i think im finally ready to get hurt again 😔
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ghoul-haunted · 5 months
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well, it looks like trikaranos will still launch its first chapter before the end of november but oh my god. the battlefield that went down in my folders.
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birdmenmanga · 2 years
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god I’m laughing deliriously. the production quality literally does not have to be this high. in fact more than likely CANNOT be this high. what the hell do I do
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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a little prologue before i eventually write the schmeat.
pornstar au!
f!reader
Simon retired from the adult entertainment industry at 38 years old, but he'd been in it for a decade and a half.
He left his mark, going down in history as one of the greatest of all time in pornography. Simon was a living legend, and his cock was equally legendary which even attracted the attention of famous personalities. In fact, he made sure they signed an airtight NDA just to have the privilege of having his phone number.
It eventually became dull, however, and decided it was time to call it quits. He'd had his fun and now explicitly works behind the scenes with the casting and directing.
Not for the lack of trying on his hires' part though. He cannot recall how many times he's had actors trying to entice him into bending them over the black leather couch or fuck them against the walls of their dressing rooms.
Simon had retired and meant it.
That was, until you.
A fresh face, a rookie in the business but he's completely mesmerized by the video he's watching featuring his protege, Johnny. The scene itself was nothing special, just a dad's best friend script, but you...something about you was extraordinary.
He felt his manhood stir as he watched your lips parting in a silent scream as a climax washed over you, causing your toes to curl and fingers to dig into Johnny's biceps as he split you open on top of a kitchen counter.
Your eyes clenched tightly in bliss; head thrown back in pleasure. You weren't faking it in the least, not that it was ever in question— there was a frothy, milky cream around the base of Johnny's cock, your body twitched with the aftershocks of it, and he's had more than a lifetime's worth of women and men underneath and on top of him to know what a real orgasm looked like.
You looked delectable. His mouth watered as he thought of getting a taste of you— he wanted to eat that pretty pussy of yours like it was to be his last meal, push his thick fingers into your slick hole and make you ride his hand until you hunched over and gushed arousal down his wrist and forearm.
Simon palmed himself roughly outside of his trousers and hissed when Johnny covered your mouth with his as he rubbed your slippery clit under the pad of his thumb until you broke away to let out a choked scream— another peak that Johnny takes as his.
He fucks you through it with a slow undulation of his hips, just like Simon taught him, and only when your limbs are loose, syrupy, does he finally relent and in a few thrusts, he's pulling out and covering your glistening slit with his spend.
Simon grips his phone so hard, it makes a cracking sound. He's had A-list celebrities with unrivaled beauty begging for him to see them again. He's had Aphrodite in his bed and Adonis on his knees.
And yet none compare to the sight of you, skin dewy with saliva and sweat, damp hair sticking to your forehead, and another man's cum dripping out of you.
He's enthralled.
Simon tosses his cell and briskly walks toward his kitchen island, where his laptop sits. In a matter of minutes, he's sent an email to the company you work for and told them to name their price, he'd pay anything to get you in his studio.
They readily agreed, of course. No one denies Simon anything.
Simon runs his tongue over his teeth in anticipation; he's gonna lift you to the very stars.
Ghost is about to make his long-awaited return and only for you.
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selineram3421 · 3 months
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can I make a request for an Alastor x reader? Where y/n is Husk's sibling and Alastor won't stop flirting with y/n and Husk is just not having it? (And the rest of the HH crew are just in the background shipping Alastor and y/n)
*swipes up* Cat Demon Reader!!!! FUCK YEAH!
Hissy Kitty
Prologue
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Alastor X Reader
Warnings⚠
⚠ cussing, protective older brother Husk, Alastor loves annoying your brother, italics = thoughts ⚠
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Husk was very protective of you and made sure you were taken care of. In Living and afterlife, he kept you out of his "business" to keep you safe.
Of course you surprise him by showing up at the hotel.
"What the fuck are you doing here!?"
"Surprise!", you cheered and gave your older brother a hug.
He didn't want you anywhere near his work. It was too risky. You would have been made a target. He didn't want HIM to know about you.
"Answer the question.", he grumbled but hugged you back.
"I haven't seen you in a while and I just wanted to-", you began, pulling back a bit from the hug, taking a look around the hotel lobby that was behind him.
"Look, I'll call you and tell you all about it but you need to go before-", he tried to get you to leave quickly.
"Husker!"
Shit.
He was pissed that he was too late.
"What are you doing trying to chase a guest out?", the demon in red walked over and pulled you into the hotel. "We are trying to invite them in."
"This one ain't looking to stay in the hotel!", your brother hissed and tried to pull you away from the red dressed demon.
You were suddenly spun and dipped by the man in red. It shocked you so much that you held onto the red demon tightly.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I am Alastor the facility manager.", Alastor grinned as he gazed down at you. "And who might you be?"
Such an adorable thing. He thought when seeing your ears pinned back and eyes having turned into slits, his grin widening when he noticed Husk getting angrier.
"Um..can you let me up now? This is a very weird way of greeting..", you squirmed, your tail flicking in annoyance.
After letting you go, Alastor took note of how bristled up the fur of his acquaintance was.
How interesting..
"Forgive me dear, I can get quite theatrical.", he laughed and fixed his bowtie. "And your name?"
"I'm-"
"Not staying.", Husk cut in. "They only came to see me, now back off."
"What the hell, can't I greet a demon?", you huffed.
Your brother pulls you away to speak in private.
"Not this one! This prick is someone I don't want you hanging around with.", he whispered growled, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Go home, put some wards or some shit for protection and don't come back here again!"
"Damn it Husk!", you slapped his hands away. "I came here to check up on you!"
Alastor stays where he is to enjoy the show. Glancing to the side when seeing Angel step into the lobby.
"Its been years! I haven't heard from you until two weeks ago about this place. Where have you been!? Do you know how worried I was!?"
"Psst! Smiles! Who the fuck is kitty whiskers?", the spider asks.
"Haven't the faintest idea but this argument is getting amusing.", he responds.
"I told you that I moved! That should be enough!", Husk gestured to the hotel.
"Yeah, its nice to know you're alive but you could have at least told me how you've been! Did you make any new friends? Did you drink until you blacked out again? Something else for fucks sake!", you yelled.
"I'm alive!", your brother yelled back. "I drank yesterday!", he pushed you towards the door. "I don't have friends!", he opened the door. "Now leave!"
"Tsk tsk!", Alastor tutted and used his shadows to pull you away from the door, moving you into his hold. "They are our guest, even if they are just visiting Husker~"
The Radio Demon's smile growing bigger when he saw the cat clench his fists.
"You are welcome to visit anytime to see this-", the red demon gestures to your brother. "-hissy kitty that you know."
"Ha!", you quickly covered your mouth to keep your laugh silent.
"A smile! Finally!", Alastor leaned closer to you. "I'd like to see it if you don't mind."
"Back off!", Husk pushed the red dressed demon away and took your hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."
"I can stay!?", you asked your brother.
"Only for a few hours!", he replied.
You stayed longer than a few hours.
Charlie had caught wind and was excited to meet you.
Husk drank from his bottle, watching as you talked to the Princess and Vaggie. The two were hooked on whatever story you were telling.
"So Husky~", Angel slid over.
"Don't you fucking call me that ever again.", the cat grumbled before continuing to drink.
"Who's the new cat strolling about?", the spider asked. "I've never seen you so pushy with someone before~ Are they an ex?"
"None of your business and ew. Fuck no.", Husk wiped his mouth after he finished the bottle. "Forget about them. They need to leave anyway.", he said before walking over to you.
.
"Hi Husk!", you waved as you entered the hotel.
"Fucking shit. What did you not understand about staying away!?"
You had a smug grin and pranced over to him.
"Can't really stay away from where I work~", you said and showed your employment papers.
"What.", your brother growled.
"While I was talking to the Princess during the tour, you stepped out for a bit and I told her I wanted to work here!", you beamed, cat tail swaying calmly. "So now I can't leave! Yay!"
"Are you fucking stupid!?", Husk yelled.
"Now Husker.", Alastor appeared from the shadows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "That is no way to talk to your fellow coworker."
The Radio Demon smiled cheekily when seeing the cat demon's fur bristle in anger.
"Let's show you all of the staff rooms!", he said suddenly and turned you towards the stairs. "There are quite a few closets littered about for cleaning supplies! For now that is what you'll do with Niffty until the Princess can think of where to put you."
"Is there any cleaning supplies?", you asked a little suspicious.
"Haven't a clue! But let's find out!"
You were near Alastor most of the day.
Husk actually followed you both until the "tour" ended.
"And that is all of the cleaning closets so far!", the red man grinned.
All of you were now standing in one of the many hallways. The fourth floor if you remember.
"Thank you for pointing them out.", you removed his hand from your shoulder. "Little less of that if you don't mind."
"Oh! I didn't even notice.", Alastor held his hands behind his back. "Do remind me if I slip again."
Husk quickly took you away from the red demon and walked you towards the lobby.
"Look, I'm glad you're here. Really. But its not safe for you to be around that smiling asshole.", your brother hissed.
"Husk, I'm not as clueless as you think I am.", you sigh and shook his arm off. "I'll keep myself safe.", you finish and walk away.
The cat demon stayed behind, groaning as he slides his hand down his face, feeling on edge, tired, and annoyed all at once.
"I've never seen you around a demon like them~", Alastor appears from the shadows. "And you're so protective!", he walks in front of the cat demon. "What a good older brother you are.", he leans back and spins his head to look at the demon.
"Don't you fucking try anything!", Husk threatens.
The Radio Demon laughs and stands up straight. "We'll have to go over our deal again!", he says while fixing his coat. "I hope you added their protection in."
"You piece of shit-!", Husk extends his claws and opens his wings up.
"I must be off! Who knows what trouble the guests have gotten into already!", Alastor walks away from the angry cat.
The Radio Demon hummed as he walked down the hallway, a slight skip in his step as his smile grew wider.
Oh how entertaining~
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I love cats💕 Also this is turning into a short story because Husk is gonna be hella pissed.
~Seline, the person.
Part 1
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @+?
ML for Alastor🎙 | ChL for HK😾
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astronicht · 22 days
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Okay I'm almost done with Fellowship, here's an incomplete list of shit I noticed and thought was buck fucking wild on my first ever read-thru: medieval edition.
In literally the second line of the book, Tolkien implies that Bilbo Baggins wrote a story which was preserved alongside the in-universe version of the Mabinogion (aka the best-known collection of Welsh myths; I promise this is batshit). This is because The Hobbit has been preserved, in Tolkien's AU version of our world, in a "selection of the Red Book of Westmarch" (Prologue, Concerning Hobbits). If you're a medievalist and you see something called "The Red Book of" or "The Black Book of" etc it's a Thing. In this case, a cheeky reference to the Red Book of Hergest (Llyfr Coch Hergest). There are a few Red Books, but only Hergest has stories).
not a medieval thing but i did not expect one common theory among hobbits for the death of Frodo's parents to be A RUMORED MURDER-SUICIDE.
At the beginning of the book a few hobbits report seeing a moving elm tree up on the moors, heading west (thru or past the Shire). I mentioned this in another post, but another rule: if you see an elm tree, that's a Girl Tree. In Norse creation myth, the first people were carved from driftwood by the gods. Their names were Askr (Ash, as in the tree), the first man, and Embla (debated, but likely elm tree), the first woman. A lot of ppl have I think guessed that that was an ent-wife, but like. Literally that was a GIRL. TREE.
Medieval thing: I used to read the runes on the covers of The Hobbit and LOTR for fun when I worked in a bookshop. There's a mix of Old Norse (viking) and Old English runes in use, but all the ones I've noticed so far are real and readable if you know runes.
Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you once spent months of your life researching the early medieval art of galdor, which was the use of poems or songs to do a form of word-magic, often incorporating gibberish. If you think maybe Tolkien did not base the entirety of Fellowship so far around learning and using galdor and thus the power of words and stories, that is fine I cannot force you. He did personally translate "galdor" in Beowulf as "spell" (spell, amusingly, used to mean "story"). And also he named an elf Galdor. Like he very much did name an elf Galdor.
Tom Bombadil in fact does galdor from the moment we meet him. He arrives and fights the evil galdor (song) of the willow tree ("old gray willow-man, he's a mighty singer"), which is singing the hobbits to sleep and possibly eating them, with a galdor (song) of his own. Then he wanders off still singing, incorporating gibberish. I think it was at this point that I started clawing my face.
THEN Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you've read the description of the scop's songs in Beowulf (Beowulf again, but hey, Tolkien did famously a. translate it b. write a fanfiction about it called Sellic Spell where he gave Beowulf an arguably homoerotic Best Friend). The scop (pronounched shop) is a poet who sings about deeds on earth, but also by profession must know how to sing the song or tell the story of how the cosmos itself came to be. The wise-singer who knows the deep lore of the early universe is a standard trope in Old English literature, not just Beowulf! Anyway Tom Bombadil takes everyone home and tells them THE ENTIRE STORY OF ALL THE AGES OF THE EARTH BACKWARDS UNTIL JUST BEFORE THE MOMENT OF CREATION, THE BIG BANG ITSELF and then Frodo Baggins falls asleep.
Tom Bombadil knows about plate tectonics
This is sort of a lie, Tom Bombadil describes the oceans of old being in a different place, which works as a standard visual of Old English creation, which being Christian followed vaguely Genesis lines, and vaguely Christian Genesis involves a lot of water. TOLKIEN knew about plate tectonics though.
Actually I just checked whether Tolkien knew about plate tectonics because I know the advent of plate tectonics theory took forever bc people HATED it and Alfred Wegener suffered for like 50 years. So! actually while Tolkien was writing LOTR, the scientific community was literally still not sure plate tectonics existed. Tom Bombadil knew tho.
Remember that next time you (a geologist) are forced to look at the Middle Earth map.
I'm not even done with Tom Bombadil but I'm stopping here tonight. Plate tectonics got me. There's a great early (but almost high!) medieval treatise on cosmology and also volcanoes and i wonder if tolkien read it. oh my god. i'm going to bed.
edit: part II
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alltheirdamn · 28 days
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Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)
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Chap. 1 : Your Name
Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')
Masterlist
PROLOGUE
You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.
 Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway. 
The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion. 
Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes. 
You’d never love again. 
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“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.
By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.
“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road. 
You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays. 
Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life. 
Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love. 
Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake. 
“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded. 
“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.
“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”
You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.
“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”
Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.
“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”
“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”
“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”
You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved. 
The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough. 
Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil. 
It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better. 
Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long? 
You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again. 
**
You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement. 
“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.
“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.
You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.
“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.
Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks. 
“Really, Maria. You do.”
“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.
Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.
“Is that her dad?” You asked.
He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone. 
“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”
“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.
Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.
“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”
“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.
You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled.  And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance. 
And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest. 
“What was that?” Maria chirped. 
You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you. 
“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”
“It looked like something.”
You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer. 
“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you. 
Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles. 
“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”
“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”
You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.
“Miss Smith!”
“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. 
With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes. 
“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked. 
“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it. 
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally. 
“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.
“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement. 
“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”
His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.
“Joel,” he insisted.
You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?
Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home. 
The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.
The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit. 
You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.
“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.
“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”
“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.
“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.
Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.
“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.
“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”
“It’s my fault. I can fix it.” 
You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true. 
“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”
He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before. 
“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled.
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.
“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”
Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”
His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours. 
“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”
“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”
“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”
There was a lot of harm in it. 
You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly. 
“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.
You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.
“Yes, Mr. Miller?”
“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there. 
“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.
Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous. 
“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”
“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”
His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in. 
“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.
“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.
“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.
“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”
That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.
“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”
“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch. 
“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”
“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”
“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”
Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.
It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget. 
The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.
“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”
“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk. 
“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated. 
“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”
She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents. 
“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.
“I don’t know,” you sighed.
“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”
There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.
You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out. 
The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see. 
Joel Miller.
He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here. 
“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.
You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing. 
“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”
She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip. 
“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”
“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”
“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.
You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.
Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.
You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—
“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.
“Mr. Miller,” you said.
“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased. 
“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”
Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body. 
“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.
“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips. 
“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”
“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”
“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned. 
“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer. 
“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?” 
Was he… flirting with you? 
You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment. 
“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care. 
“What other flavors do you like?” 
He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.  
“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.
Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered. 
“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered. 
“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”
“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered. 
Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency. 
Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality. 
“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”
Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away. 
“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.
“How do you know? Were you watching me?”
“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?” 
He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends. 
“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach. 
“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked. 
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.
You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.
“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.
Joel peered around you and huffed loudly. 
“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”
“He doesn’t look too happy.”
“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.
Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.
“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”
“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.
“Wait!” Joel called out.
“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”
You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built. 
You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot. 
“Fuck,” you groaned.
As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.
“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained. 
“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you. 
The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer. 
“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”
Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins. 
“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud. 
Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.
“No,” he whispered softly.
Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door. 
“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. 
The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car. 
“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear. 
“I’m—.”
“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”
He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner. 
“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck. 
“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”
You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior. 
“Get in.”
His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar. 
You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness. 
Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile. 
“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light. 
You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”
“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”
A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably. 
“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”
You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction. 
“This is me,” you sniffled. 
“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”
“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”
“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.
“It’s all formalities.”
“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”
Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.
“Can I just know one thing?” He asked. 
You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.
“What’s your name?”
Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.
608 notes · View notes
odoraful · 21 days
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Do you wanna go on a blind date?
your classmate wants to go on a blind date with your crush and asks you to organise it ! how will you navigate this tricky situation?
content: modern au, ft. genshin characters x reader, 1.3k words a/n: this felt like a cheesy shojo plotline so my imagination just started running 🏃‍♀️
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˗ˏˋ꒰ PROLOGUE ꒱ˎˊ˗
“Could you please set me up with him?”
Your classmate has their hands clasped together, their eyes pleading at you. You mentioned off-handedly how you were close with the guy given the high honour of ‘campus crush’. Since then, they’ve been hounding you to arrange a blind date. 
Trying not to show your exasperation was getting more and more difficult. Every conversation somehow ended up having him in it. It was also even harder hearing them infatuate over someone you had liked for so long. Yes, you know the way his eyes light up whenever he gets excited, and how handsome he is no matter what he wears — you get that loud and clear! However, you knew they wouldn’t stop until you had at least tried to set something up. 
“Alright!” You lift your hands in surrender. “I’ll see what I can do.” You say, resignedly. 
Your classmate tackles you with a side hug, cheering with excitement. “You’re my hero! Thank you!” 
You pat them on the arm. Perhaps this was actually a good thing.  You’ve spent too long pining after your close friend, and his popularity meant he could easily find someone to be with. It wouldn’t be hard for him to fall for someone nice and approachable like your classmate.
Staring off into the distance, you wonder just how you’re going to approach this. 
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꒰ wanderer, xiao, cyno, kazuha + ur favs ꒱
“No.” 
You barely finish the question before he abruptly answers, not even looking up from his laptop screen. The clicky noises from his typing punctuating the blunt response. You were visiting his place for the day to get some work done together. Though, you devoted more time to trying to find a way to ask the question rather than focusing on your tasks. 
Crossing your arms on the table, you lean in, trying to gauge exactly what kind of reaction he’s having to this. “Come on, you don’t even want to entertain the idea of finding a partner?” 
He sighs, fingers going still. Sensing this topic wasn’t dropping anytime soon, he closes his laptop screen halfway to get a better view of you. 
“Why would I want to meet someone new?” 
His sudden attention towards you made your thoughts scramble, and the response you had ready fizzles away. He rests his face in his hand, head tilted. Hair tousled slightly, eyes shining with curiosity — it's enough to cause your breath to stutter. You could curl up with embarrassment at how your cheeks still grew hot when he looked at you a certain way. 
Maybe I should have just texted him about this… 
“W-well it’s not just about meeting a new person, there’s the potential for falling in love as well.” 
He lets out a soft chuckle, sounding unconvinced at your words. Your heart sinks a little. Did he really not want to find a partner? It was just more evidence of your one-sided love. 
“I think I have all the people I need in my life already. And besides…” He turns his head, darting his eyes away from your gaze. “What if I already have someone I love?”
The air stills. 
Trying quickly to compose yourself, you exaggerate a gasp. “You like someone and you’ve never told me before?!”
Covering your mouth with both hands, you press your fingers together to stop them from trembling. 
He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I have for a while now.”
Now is the time for you to curl up with embarrassment. You couldn't believe it. All this time he had a crush on someone. You knew your chances were slim to begin with, but this really hammered that point home. You need something to distract you right now. 
Picking up your phone, you quickly unlock it and swipe to find your message app.
“I’ll text my classmate that you said no to the blind date for obvious reasons.” Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you jokingly say, “And then you should go and actually ask your crush out so they don't think I’m lying.”
With your eyes averted from his face, he hangs his head, exhaling a shaky breath. You're about to press send on the message when you hear him clearing his throat.
“Okay then.” Looking up, you notice an unfamiliar shyness on his face. “(Y/N),"
Realisation hits you. This had to be a dream right? Your body reacts before your thoughts can even catch up — heartrate quickening, stomach fluttering. There's no way the next words out of his mouth would be-
"Would you like to go out with me?”
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꒰ childe, lyney, wriothesley, kaeya + ur faves ꒱
His eyes go wide, before a smirk emerges on his lips. “A blind date?” He pops a spoonful of cake in his mouth, a pause for emphasis. “With who?”
You take your own spoon and tap away his one from taking another big piece. You thought the best chance to ask your question was when there was something sweet in front of him. Plus, the lively, unintelligible chatter and the whirring of the coffee machine in the café served as good background noise for any potential awkwardness on your part. You already feel a twinge of envy at how interested he seemed. 
“One of my classmates. We met at the start of this semester.”
He folds his arms, eyes narrowing at you. “Describe them for me. I need to know more about their personality before I make any hasty decisions.”
You roll your eyes. “Now doesn’t that defeat the whole ‘blind’ part of the blind date?”
“It doesn’t have to be detailed! I just wanna know what they’re like.”
Acquiescing to his wishes, you describe your classmate. You didn’t want to betray them, so you told him a faithful account of what they were like — outgoing, lively, sweet. The more you recounted details about them, the more you realised how perfect they would be with him. Once you finish your pitch, you take a piece of cake for yourself, scooping extra whipped cream from the top. Anything to make the lump in your throat go away. 
He hums in thought, then nods to himself, coming to some kind of conclusion. 
“Sorry. They don’t really sound like my type.”
Huh? You stare blankly at him.
“But they’re so nice! You would look so good together!” Your unexpected passion at defending your classmate causes him to lift a brow. “And besides, I didn’t realise you had a type.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” He says, matter of factly.
You busy yourself by aimlessly playing around with the remaining piece of cake with your spoon. Of course everyone has someone they gravitate towards. Even you, and that person was sitting right here. 
You’re almost afraid to ask this question, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “Well go on, what kind of person do you like then?” 
Almost like he was waiting for you to ask, he becomes animated as he talks. “Well, they need to be fun to hang out with, and definitely have similar interests as me.” 
He eyes your face and smiles.
“And I find it cute if they’re a little clumsy. Especially when it comes to eating cake. For example, they might have some cream in the corner of their lip right-” 
He reaches his hand towards your face. Your brain malfunctions when he lightly rests it beneath your chin and swipes a thumb over the outside of your lips. Pulling his hand back, you see remnants of the whipped cream you ate. 
Does this mean he...!? You repeat over and over in your head. The feeling of his touch lingers on your skin, tingling.
He grins at your dumbfounded expression, licking the cream off his thumb. “-here.”
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425 notes · View notes
fruitmins · 9 months
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Agust Dad—Prologue
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➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.
➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au
➭warnings: smut that includes unprotected s*x (don’t do that), cuss words, mention of alcohol and drinking, kinda rough s*x, a little dirty talk
<<next part>>
➭note: yoongi is leaving for the military so let’s make him a dad to patch up my grief☺️ Have to give credit where credit is due; this was inspired by a writer named sopebubbles. And ik it’s not clear but he is still in BTS. ⚠︎ this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. yoongi is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.
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“I think, we should make a toast, to Mr Agust D himself of course.” The head producer said over the chatter in the lobby, noticeably drunk but it just so happened that everyone else was also. Even you.
But that was the point of the pre-release party. It was to celebrate how rich everyone were about to be and that everyone could relax after several hard months.
Even though you were only at the album camp for a week, only working on one song and from a entirety different company, somehow you found yourself at the rented hotel partying like the rest of the producers.
The infamous artist groans in embarrassment and this eggs everyone on further, raising their glasses towards him and applauding. “We are never doing this again.” Yoongi slurs, a little tipsy himself as he chuckles, the alcohol starting to loosen him up a bit.
It wasn’t like Yoongi always had his guard up, at least not around his colleagues anyways. He was just incredibly professional and slightly uptight. The two of you had spoken a handful of times while at the camp, mostly focusing on the song and the two of you worked well together.
You were from a more smaller company and when the two of you first met, he said he looked up some of the other collaborations that you did and was fond of your work. It was incredibly easy working with him and his team. No one could deny that the two of you had chemistry when it came to music. If you had a thought or suggestion Yoongi would practically finish your sentence. And if he wanted to change something you would already be on it.
Most of his other producers were amazed at how fast the two of you were working and how smooth it was going, which was half of the reason they wanted you to attend the party in the first place. The first producer to make the Agust D smile while working on a song instead of being tense.
But despite everything, you two hadn’t spoken much since then, so it was a surprise to you when he had stepped up to you when you alone in the kitchen, getting yourself another drink.
The first bottle of whiskey was already run dry, so you were to busy stumbling as you stood on your tippy toes to reach the other bottle in the cabinet to notice he had walked in the kitchen and was watching you from afar.
You hadn’t realized that he stood only a couple steps away from you, watching and analyzing your every move. His eyes wandering your body and curves as you struggled to reach the desired item. He couldn’t help but stare at your ass that was covered by your tight black skirt and watched as your breasts jiggled the more you stumbled and reached for the drink.
With his own new desire in mind, Yoongi finally advanced towards you. Making his movements slow and menacing, not stopping until he was behind you and his back was almost pressed against you.
Feeling the sudden body heat you spun around, your eyes widening even further when they meet his dark brown ones. You back away slightly, trying to create some distance but move hip first into the counter behind you causing you to wince in pain.
“You should be more careful, Y/N-ah.” He spoke in a soothing low tone, suppressing a small smirk when he saw how flustered you got, your cheeks even more red now and not just from the alcohol.
“Sorry, Min Yoongi-ssi.” You mumble with a nervous chuckle trying to stay professional and not get sucked in by his expensive perfume and deep gaze. It had already been heard enough to ignore his beauty during camp.
He lets out a deep chuckle, cracking a small friendly smile that hides his true intentions. “No need to be so formal Y/N.” He says, tilting his head slightly to take in more of your features.
He had spent almost a full week with you, and of course he noticed how pretty you were but he paid no mind to it. After all, he was focused on his work and he had seen better woman before. But now he had gotten a good full look at you with more of an (hazy) open mind.
“Ah, Y/N-ah don't you know? You shouldn't apologize to me when you're in no wrong. You shouldn't lower yourself to me so much." He said his smile turning more into a smirk.
“And plus, I’d say we have gotten quite close,” he spoke, his voice getting more quiet as he leaned more into you, pinning you between the counter and his body. “Don’t you think?” He asked with a smile smirk, having gotten you right where he wanted you.
“Wow,” You breathed out, glancing around the empty kitchen as if you were imagining everything that was happening. Guiltily, you had already had some inappropriate thoughts about him before thanks to his song lyrics but you knew better not to act on them.
“I guess so...” Your voice trailed out and you think you’re being discreet about finding an exit but Yoongi notices.
He leans more against you body so that by now they are touching. He continues to focus his eyes on you before effortlessly reaching an arm above your head as he grabs the drink for you.
Your eyes light up at the drink, even though it’s clear you don’t really need any more. “Thank you Yoongi-ah~” you slur while reaching for it but he pulls his arm back and takes the bottle out of your reach much to your confusion.
He chuckles with a soft smile at the cute expression, this one being more genuine than the last. “I don’t think you need anymore of this.” He says with a smug smile as he looks down at you. Yoongi moved one of his arms down and placed his hand on your hip that bumped into the counter earlier. The other hand still on the drink. He smirked once again as he moved his face closer to yours. "I wouldn't like for you to get hurt again."
Your throat hitches as you feel his warm hand on your hip, drawing small circles into it as he spoke in a soft tone. You finally see the hint of lust in his eyes that you failed to notice before and your heart thumps.
“You’re right. I think I’ll just go back to the party.” You say with a nervous chuckle, trying to somehow squeeze past him to get to the lobby while still being trapped between him and the counter behind you.
"I wouldn't advise you to go to the party. It's noisy and loud, there'll be too many people." Yoongi subtly brought his other arm with the bottle down and placed it on the counter, blocking all of your exits.
Now knowing where this was going you lean back more into the counter. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” You whisper looking down and away from his face so you’re not tempted to do anything that could possibly put your job in jeopardy.
“Why?” He said in a confident deep tone. “You know company’s have loosened up, and we’re grown adults.” Yoongi said with a soft chuckle as he leans closer to where you could feel his breath on your shoulder, trying to sound as gentle as possible.
“We’re from different companies.” You whisper, breathing getting heavy as the tension in the room starts to get hotter. Three drinks ago you wouldn’t even be considering about this, and maybe he wouldn’t even be either. But here you were.
“That's the best part." Yoongi said in a low voice as he took two fingers to move your chin so you were looking directly at him. He brushed your hair out of your eyes before tucking it behind your ear.
"No one from your company is even here and no one of my company knows you." He states calmly, giving you his signature smile for reassurance but the look of passion in his eyes tells a different story.
Your breathing becomes hitched as the hand on your hip begins to move to caress your side. He takes a swig of the alcohol as if to say ‘fuck it’ before quickly planting a hungry kiss on your exposed neck.
You bite your bottom lip to hold in a gasp as his wet soft lips hit your skin. His grip tightens on your hip as he kisses a trail down your neck "You're so beautiful," he breathes against your skin, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
Your mind is hazy from the alcohol and his touch and suddenly all logical thinking begins to dissolve. All you can think about is how touch deprived you’ve been for years. How one of the most richest and famous person alive were telling you how beautiful you were. You can’t remember the last time you’ve let yourself let loose and release some steam.
He leans in close and presses his lips against yours, his tongue moving against them in a slow glide before pulling away. "No one has to know. Except for you and me." He says in a husky voice.
Now that he has you in his grasp, he gently takes your hand in his and leads you both out of the kitchen and upstairs to a one of the many empty hotel rooms that would soon be filled with drunk coworkers.
As soon as you step inside the room, he shuts the door behind him and locks it securely. He moves towards you again, placing a sloppy but firm kiss so you can taste the mix of alcohol on his lips while holding onto your waist tightly.
This time you return the kiss, now with your own hunger. “So pretty..” he praises again when he pulls away to catch his breath.
He starts kissing down your neck, his hand quickly moving to reach down to your blouse and unbutton it. You can feel the heat rising between you two, your breaths become shorter and quicker, your hearts racing in sync as he successfully gets your shirt off and on the ground.
You don’t have time to think as his hands move up to your breasts, feeling their weight and massaging them as he kisses you deeper. As he reaches your cleavage, he begins to undo your bra, letting go of your breasts so he could remove it completely. He holds the kiss as he does so causing your breathing to become faster and heavier at his touch. It was like an addiction, that you couldn’t get enough of.
He steps back, taking in your beautiful breasts for a moment before concluding that you needed all of your clothes off. He moves down and starts kissing all around your neck, chin, and jawline, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and uses this as an opportunity to push you towards a nearby couch.
He kicks off his shoes as you collapse on the couch and he does the honors of taking off your heels for you as you quickly get off his shirt. He leans forward, and presses another passionate kiss against yours. “I’ve waited months for this..” he mumbles into the kiss, lying right out of his teeth.
His hands start to roam again, this time he takes the waistband of your skirt and pulls it down to your legs. “Let’s make sure you’re nice and wet for me..” he says in a deep husky voice as he slips his hand through your underwear feeling your wet fabric first.
You shiver when his fingers brush against your slit and as soon as he feels how soaked you are, he smiles widely leaning in to kiss you again. “So wet..” he hums before pulling his warm fingers away to pull down your underwear completely.
So having seen and felt enough, Yoongi unbuckles his pants and lets them fall to his knees. You can see the outline of his hard cock tugging at his boxers. He finally removes his boxers and his cock springs out, precum already leaking in anticipation. If being completely sober you would be more embarrassed of the situation, but your mind is to clouded by lust and warmth that you can take in his body completely.
He moves closer towards you once more, pressing himself firmly against you so that you're able to see every inch of him pressed against your stomach. "Mmmh...you like what you see?" he asks softly, as he wraps his hand around his cock.
You nod, a little to quickly as you watch him with pleading eyes. He smirks at your needy gaze, his hips moving into his hand involuntarily as he rubs his hand over your thigh.
Feeling your heat, he leans forward and kisses you, deepening the kiss as he slides his hands up your thighs to your hips. He squeezes them tightly, holding you in place as he slowly rubs himself against your entrance. He places one hand behind your neck while the other holds your hip firmly, gently pushing his cock inside you. You gasp loudly from the sudden pressure, but Yoongi only grins widely as he begins thrusting his hips slowly.
He lets out a grunt as he slowly pushes his painfully hard cock inside you, “So tight.. So wet..” he practically growls at the feeling of your warmth.
Your eyes shut tightly as he continues to slam his cock against your walls as he grips your hip tightly with both hands. “Look at me when I fuck you, Y/N..” he says in a demanding tone making you moan loudly in response your eyes fluttering open to look at him and you can admit it’s a beautiful sight. Never had you thought you’d be getting fucked by a famous idol like this, but now that it was happening you might as well take in all the sights.
“Fuck..that’s right..” he mumbles in a rough voice as he grips your hips tightly, his muscles tensing with every thrust he makes. It doesn’t take long after that till you’re clenching around him, moaning loudly as he drives you to a much needed orgasm that fills you with ecstasy.
His breathing becomes heavy too, sweat dripping off his forehead as he continues pounding. "Good girl..." He whispers huskily before kissing you passionately again.
In one swift motion he takes both hands and grips your hips tightly, lifting you up and off of the couch so he can sit down instead and places you on top of his lap still keeping himself buried deep within you.
Once comfortable sat up against the couch, he starts to move inside of you once again, starting off slow before speeding up. His thrusts are rougher than before, his hips slamming into yours as he holds your tightly to keep you in upright on his lap.
His thrusts become more needy and sloppy, causing you to bounce back and forth across his lap as he grunts softly as he feels himself getting close. He leans forward, holding onto your waist for support as he begins moving faster and harder, driving his cock deeper and deeper inside you until he finally releasing all of his hot cum inside of you.
The two of you stay like that a for a little, his warm cock buried deep inside of you as you try to steady your breathing.
Once Yoongi sees your breathing start to slow and you begin to come down from your high, he shifts his position so his laid down on the couch and you’re on top of his chest.
Your eyes flutter close shortly after, and when they finally open back up in the morning, Yoongi is gone.
Leaving you alone with the gruesome realization of how big of a mistake you’ve made.
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st4rwon · 3 months
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enhypen followed me - prologue
synopsis - jake, being the clumsy guy he is, accidentally follows you from the official enhypen account on twitter. this leads to your life taking a full 180 and having to deal with being in the public eye.
jake laid on the couch while scrolling through twitter, he loved to see engenes posts, especially since they just had their concert in seoul a couple days ago. though one post really caught his eye, a girl who was oh so pretty, she had the brightest smile on her face, and a light blush covering her. jake didn’t know why, but he decided to click onto her profile and scroll through it, seeing a tweet of you showing off your new jake photo cards, the idol couldn’t help but feel his ego boost a bit.
“jaeyun!” heeseung called, as he approached jake’s room. the boy fumbled with his phone for a second, before properly exiting from the app. “what are you up to?” the elder asked, peaking his head from the doorframe. “n-nothing” he spoke, quietly cursing himself for stuttering. heeseung cocked his head in response, obviously noticing the flush of his members face, but he decided to leave him alone for once. “we have to film in an hour, so be ready” he stated, before walking away.
jaeyun sighed in relief, putting his phone to the side to get ready for their schedule.
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look-at-the-soul · 2 months
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Every little thing you do- Prologue
Tommy Shelby x reader (Mini series)
Summary: Y/N has been Tommy’s best friend since childhood. She had always been there for him when he needed her the most. Now as the Shelby family are in a better position, Y/N will need Tommy’s support when something she didn’t expect happens.
A/N welcome to this little new adventure! This story started as an idea @lyarr24 shared a while ago and I just stared at it for a few minutes until the ideas started “appearing” in my mind. This particular part turned somehow into a comedy show on its own 😂🤭 it was fun and light to write, but it’s going to get angsty… thank you for sharing your unique ideas as usual! It took me some time but I’m always into giving each story it’s own time. And of course @justrainandcoffee thank you for creating this beautiful moodboard for this story! You totally nailed it!
Word count: 2,196
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Arriving at the Garrison, Y/N headed straight towards the private booth where the Shelby’s were reunited.
“You should’ve seen the look in Polly’s eyes when she found out we were buying the stallion.” John cracked and threw his head back with a loud laugh.
Arthur winked at Y/N and decided to mess with his brother.
“Erm John boy.” He cleared his throat, just as Tommy gave Y/N a smirk, they were both sitting facing the door unlike John who had his back at it.
Tommy used the chance to kick his youngest brother in the shin, as a warning.
“So you think it’s fucking hilarious John Michael Shelby.” Y/N imitated Polly’s voice and mannerisms perfectly.
John’s face paled as the smile left his face and he straightened his back.
Arthur snorted and then started laughing uncontrollably as John turned around to find Y/N standing by the door.
“Shit! Y/N you scared the fuck out of me.”
“Get in here sweetheart.” Arthur called for her, making room next to him. “That was brilliant, you’ve got a talent.”
“You sound just like her.” Ada praised, leaning over the table to kiss her cheek.
“You’re late.” Tommy offered her a glass of whiskey.
Taking a sip, she nodded. “The lady I work for had a terrible day, didn’t want me to leave.” She replied titling her head to the side because Arthur was right in the middle, sandwiched between her and Tommy.
“And how did it go?” He asked over the laughs of his siblings.
“My feet are killing me, I had to walk all the way back… but I really needed a drink tonight.
“Why? Scott didn’t pick you up?” He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
Against his best judgment, he agreed to give Y/N’s boyfriend a place among the peaky men. He didn’t like or trusted him but he was doing it for Y/N and the friendship they’ve always had. Over time, he even gave Scott a car under the condition to drop and pick up Y/N from her work every day.
“We had an argument this morning, he got pissed and I asked him to not.” She lied.
She knew how protective Tommy could get, specially around Scott. They were already past the phase where Tommy would’ve to intervene and put her boyfriend in his place, then Scott would come for her arguing that she let that gangster say and do whatever he pleased.
But Tommy knew Y/N better than that, and this wasn’t the first time she lied to cover for her boyfriend’s attitude.
“What’s so funny?” Polly demanded to know as she joined them in the booth. Staring at Arthur and John’s faces she knew, so she shot Y/N a long look. “You’re imitating me again?!”
The Shelby brothers tried to hide their amusement but all of them failed.
“We wanted to mess up with John, Pol. Sorry.” Y/N looked down embarrassed for being caught.
Polly smiled down at her, it was impossible to stay angry with someone as Y/N.
“Well I hope it was a good one.” The smile grew bigger.
Ada laughed and stood for her aunt to take her place. “You should’ve seen John’s face, he went pale.” Waving at them, she left.
“Hey you need to talk to Finn, he’s getting out of hand these days” Polly warned her nephews. “I asked him to deliver a few letters and he had the audacity to answer he wasn’t a mail boy anymore.”
Tommy shook his head and after a long puff to his cigarette, he answered; “I’ll talk to him.”
Y/N’s chuckle made him look at her. “What? Are you really going to lecture the poor boy? Tom, if I remember correctly, you answered your father something similar back in the day but worse and that caused your first fight.”
Tommy shuddered at the memory. He was so done with his father demanding favors from him and his brother Arthur, so one day he told him he was done with his bullshit and Arthur Sr answered with a curse, threw a glass against the wall and pushed him, Tommy pushed him back. Luckily Arthur Jr and Y/N were close and could intervene to stop them from getting any further.
That night, Y/N stayed with him outside until Tommy had calmed, then she asked her parents, who were neighbors to the Shelby’s if he could sleep on the couch. Y/N’s mother made him some tea and offered him the comfort he wasn’t able to find next door.
They started as neighbors, then Tommy and Y/N became friends until Tommy trusted her blindly. After the war she was the only one who could understand him.
Tommy took a swing of his drink. “You’re not going to tell him that, are you? I’ve a reputation to keep.” He finally added.
“Leave him Pol, the poor boy is probably frustrated because he haven’t had a woman yet.” Arthur chuckled at his own joke.
“Hey,” Y/N called everyone in the room, “leave Finn out, you’re nothing but a bad influence.”
John shook his head and raised his hands as if saying he wasn’t part of it.
“Oh please Mr.-I-want-to-marry-Lizzie-Stark, really?” Y/N raised her eyebrow at him.
“Tommy! Why the hell did you tell her?!” John exploded against his brother, who was already laughing out loud, head thrown back.
Polly had to look twice at her nephew, his guard was down he seemed to be relaxed for once. Since the war he had changed a lot, the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“And besides, I corrected my path, married to Esme didn’t I?” John mumbled chewing on his toothpick.
Y/N nodded, deciding to leave that conversation, it’s was funny to tease John. “I better go now, it’s getting late.”
Tommy was on his feet the second she announced her plans.
“C’mon I’ll drive you.” Tommy offered his best friend.
Giving Polly a hug, she waved at the Shelby brothers goodbye.
After driving for a while, Y/N noticed Tommy took another route.
“Before you ask me,” Tommy spoke softly, “I’m going to show you something.”
She opened and closed her mouth. “You’re so mysterious.”
Tilting his head, Tommy clicked his tongue. “When you see it, you’ll understand.”
“Is it the new horse?” Y/N asked impatiently.
Tommy shook his head and passed her the cigarettes and matches to light it. “Why don’t you tell me what happened with Scott?”
“Something really stupid, he got pissed over nothing.”
“Really? Tell me something I don’t know already.”
Y/N sighed and took her time to exhale the smoke out of the window. “He asked me to ask you for some money, when I told him that he still owed you from the last time he got furious at me.”
“But you gave me the money for that loan.” Tommy’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“I did, but it wasn’t his money.” Y/N explained embarrassed after confessing Tommy the truth.
It was now time for Tommy for sigh. Eyes focused on the road, he didn’t want to be a pain and say I told you, Y/N was the only person he could trust and he wanted her to trust him the same way.
“Look this happens all the time, your Mum used to pay your dad’s bills behind his back, I just couldn’t take another one yet, he’s trying to find a better job and I think he’s going to propose soon.”
Tommy’s breath got caught up in his throat, he was trying to process the possibilities.
“So… is he the one?” He finally asked.
“Well he’s my boyfriend.” Y/N rushed to answer. “I just don’t know if he will let me keep working for Lady Winchester.”
“If you need a job, you know there’s always a spot for you at the Shelby Company Limited.” Tommy took the last puff of his cigarette and threw it outside the vehicle.
“Maybe I’ll need it later. Thank you.” Y/N felt more than grateful to have someone like Tommy around, he had always been there for her and her siblings specially after his business took off and he started to earn more money than anyone around. In her eyes, that didn’t make him change, if anything he became more generous.
But Scott on the other hand, was tender and good to her, he was fun to be around, always brought flowers to her. He wanted to have his own business one day, unfortunately life had been hard and it was taking him longer to make it.
Taking a turn, Tommy stopped in front of a huge gate, the property guarded by the gate wasn’t a house, it was a freaking mansion!
And her best friend was opening the gate as if he owned the property.
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“Wha-what are you doing?” Y/N asked looking out the window.
“Drive over here!” Encouraged Tommy with a huge smile.
Her heart started beating faster, he showed her how to drive and even let her do it when she wasn’t allowed to. But this was wrong, it felt like they were trespassing, she could feel her heart pounding as Tommy shouted for her to hurry up.
Following his instructions, Y/N parked the car next to the fountain.
“I wanted you to see this first…” His smile couldn’t get any bigger as he opened his arms wide and looked around proudly. “I bought this place.”
Her jaw dropped, she was lost for words.
“What do you think? I’ll build a place for the horses in the back.” Tommy explained, eyes shining.
“Woah… I don’t know what to say Tom.” A hand covered her mouth, still shocked to form anything coherent. This house looked bigger than Lady Winchester’s and that was a bloody mansion too! “You always said you’d get yourself a decent place and a big house, and look at how far you’ve come!” She felt genuinely happy for him, Tommy had always worked so hard, always found a way to help his people and those around him. If anyone deserved this, it was him.
“I’ll even have my fucking office here, and there’s a grand salon for parties.” He explained as he waited for her to step inside.
“Parties?!” She laughed nervously.
“A ball dance and shit.” He took a look around.
“You’ll need loads of furniture to fill this place.”
Tommy chuckled. This was unthinkable a few months ago, now it was a reality, he’d had the big place he dreamed of when he was a kid.
“You got a fireplace! In the tea room!”
He followed Y/N’s voice, she was now standing in the middle of the dining room.
“This looks like it belongs to a Lord.”
“You can call me Lord Shelby then.” He winked at her and they both laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.
“Downstairs it’s the wine cellar.” He added hiding his hands inside the pockets of his pants. “Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding me?” She nodded. “This is a dream! I’m so happy for you!” Y/N then went to give him a hug.
A bold movement for the rest of the world, but to her it was just natural, they’ve been friends since forever. She was the one comforting him when his mother passed away, the one to help him hold it together after the war.
“You’ll love the kitchen, it’s huge but they’re doing some renovations already, I’ll show you once it’s done.”
“Looks like I’ll need to make an appointment from now on.” Y/N teased him.
Tommy shook his head with a shy smile. “Of course not, specially not you.”
She knew he was busier now days that the Peaky Blinders owned the races and licenses. It was just a matter of time before he found a woman and got married, then this house would be filled with kids. Or perhaps he already had someone therefore the plans to get the big house.
Once the realization hit her, she pretended to look towards the window. A sudden lump installed in her throat and something indescribable pressed her heart.
“Should we go? It’s going to be dark soon.” Y/N asked, looking him in the eyes for a mere second.
Time flew on their way back and soon Tommy stopped his car in front of Y/N’s door.
Even before he could say goodnight, an angry voice called for her.
“I’ve been waiting hours for you, Y/N nobody knew where the heck did you go.”
“Slow down mate, that’s no way to treat her.” Tommy intervened, holding Scott’s death stare.
“Stay the fuck out of this.” Scott raised his voice.
Tommy felt his blood boiling, one stride and he’d finish the prick, but before he could move, a pair of soft hands stopped him.
“Tommy please, let me handle this.” She pleaded.
His jaw clenched as he saw the smirk of satisfaction Scott gave him. The bastard had Y/N charmed and there was nothing he could do about it.
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Part 1
Master list
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @lauren-raines-x @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a
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citrustan · 5 months
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slipping through my fingers [prologue] (myg)
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pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst, fluff, smut summary: you've always thought you had it way too easy. all of a sudden, your life seems to be taking a few unexpected turns. it's time your luck ran out. word count: 1.4k warnings: none, you're all good > : )
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The soft whirring sound of the radiator echoed through your cozy apartment.
It’s homey and comforting to hear the constant hum in the background. Sometimes, you’d leave the window open for the cold air to enter your space just so you had an excuse to use your radiator.
Still, you ought to get that fixed up before your ex-boyfriend lectures you about getting a new one already.
It was one of those days when time seemed to have slowed down. As you folded your daughter’s fresh laundry, you went over your tasks for the day.
You were in no hurry because for once, you had everything together.
The living room bathed in the sun’s golden hue.
Your daughter sat on her favourite spongy floor mat, completely absorbed in creating her new art piece. Her fingers were covered in pink, purple and white paint.
Momentarily pausing, you take note of what type of paint she used.
Acrylic.
You sigh. That would be a pain to clean off.
After putting away the laundered clothes, you remind your daughter to get into the bath.  
You stood in front of her with your hand on your hips, “Nao, do you want mommy to run you a warm bath or would you rather shower?”
She simply hums.
“Mommy needs to shower too. You better get in there…” You walk away after adding, “Before I do.”
At that, Naomi instantaneously stops and rushes into the bath.
Naomi was a lot like you. She hated using wet bathrooms, as do you. But motherhood had changed you. Now, you’d do just about anything for your daughter.
As if you just remembered, you yelp, “Hold on! Let me clean the paint off of you first.”
You didn’t want your pristine white bathroom tiles to stain.
After bathing and dressing your daughter in a sage green cotton dress that you stitched yourself, you decide to let her watch TV even though it isn’t time for that just yet.
“Is daddy coming to get me today?” Naomi’s enthusiastic voice stopped you. It’s a bittersweet moment for you. On one hand, you’re happy that your daughter’s happy, on the other, you’re reminded that Yoongi and you aren’t together anymore.
“Of course, he is. It’s Friday!” You match her tone. She perks up and resumes watching the Barbie movie you put on for her.
Naomi would be distracted for a good thirty minutes now.
That does not leave you a lot of time for your ‘everything’ shower, but you were aiming high either way.
While in the shower, you let your thoughts wander to Yoongi.
He suggested you have dinner together because he had a few things to discuss with you.
You don’t think too much of it. It’s probably something about his upcoming business trip. You’ve got everything covered either way.
Your breakup was… inevitable. It wasn’t mutual at first, but you knew it’s where you were headed to.
After five years of dating, while simultaneously parenting Naomi, you wanted to get married. Yoongi didn’t.
You yearned for the validation and commitment of marriage, while Yoongi held steadfast to his belief against it. He refused to confine himself to a traditional marriage.
When you opened up to him about your insecurities about him leaving you for someone else, he grappled to reassure and console you. It worked for about a month.
Your differences, once manageable, had now grown into impossible divides, creating a rift that stretched beyond mere disagreement.
Self-doubt and a lack of validation destroyed your relationship.
The water had almost run cold by the time you finished your shower routine.
You pick out a sage green dress for yourself, similar to Naomi’s, just longer.
In no hurry, you moisturize and blow-dry your hair.
Even though you’re broken up, you still try to dress up for him. You don’t know why.
Apart from some lingering stares, there hasn’t been any sign of a reconciliation since you broke up. Yet, you always try to look good for him.
Although, that’s just who you are. You’d dress up for anyone. But, it’s still different with Yoongi. You especially enjoy his compliments.
The doorbell rang, forcing you to hurry and spritz on the first perfume bottle you touch.
“Don’t open the door! You don’t know who it is!” You warn Naomi, but to no avail.
He’s early today.
Naomi races you to the door, “It’s daddy!” You let her win. You rush to tidy up the living room as you walk to the door.
“You’re so early!” Your daughter clings to his leg. Yoongi laughs and drags his foot in.
“How are my girls feeling?” He smirks at you. “A little troubled now that you’re here.” You bicker.
Yoongi vocalizes a groan, “Why’s mommy so mean to daddy?” He directs it to Naomi.
You smile and wait by the coat hanger stand to receive his jacket.
The apartment feels a little livelier every time he stops by.
“Why are you here so soon? I haven’t even begun cooking yet.” You walk into your kitchen to quickly gather ingredients to prepare a fresh pasta dough.
“No reason.” Yoongi cleared his throat, “Let me help you cook.” You gladly accept his help.
You assign both Nao and Yoongi to make the sauce and the salad.
Soon, your kitchen was filled with the clatter of pots and pans and laughter.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
After dinner, Naomi spends time watching TV and working on her masterpiece.
In the serene quiet of your kitchen, the clinking of dishes echoed softly as you and Yoongi worked in unison, a familiar rhythm of cleaning up after a shared meal.
The warmth of the evening meal lingered; the comforting ambiance contrasted with the weight of the impending conversation.
Yoongi sighed for the fifth time that evening before you finally asked him, “What is it you wanted to talk about? Is everything okay?”
As you wiped a bowl dry, you stole a glance at Yoongi, noticing the hint of unease in his demeanour. Your heart fluttered with a sense of foreboding, sensing something amiss.
Yoongi paused for a moment; his hands still submerged in soapy water. "I... I have something I need to tell you."
You laughed uneasily, “I know. Spit it out already. You’re worrying me.”
The air around you felt heavier.
You set down the dishcloth, turning to face him, a sense of apprehension settling in.
Yoongi stared back into your eyes.
"I... I'm getting engaged," Yoongi finally uttered, his words hanging heavily in the air.
WHAT?
The world seemed to pause for a moment as you tried to process his words.
Your chest tightened, emotions swirling within you—a mix of surprise, disbelief, and an (un)expected pang of sorrow.
You searched his eyes for reassurance, for any sign of hesitation or doubt.
"Engaged?" Your voice was barely a whisper.
You’re hoping he misspoke. Maybe he’s getting engraved or encased or embraced.
Yoongi nodded, his expression a blend of remorse and an unspoken plea for understanding. "It's been on my mind for a while."
“Has it, now?” You scoffed.
WOW, really?
You didn’t even know he was seeing someone like that.
Even though you’re broken up, you feel cheated on in some way.
“I don’t know what to say.” You deadpan.
Your conversation was interrupted by the distant sound of Naomi's laughter, a stark reminder of the delicate balance you maintained for your daughter's sake.
"I wanted you to know first," Yoongi added softly, his eyes a mosaic of regret and an unspoken apology. One that you don’t want to acknowledge or accept.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look down at your floral dishcloth.
You have a lot of questions but you don’t really want answers to all of them.
Yoongi feels ashamed of himself. But he knew he’d have to have this conversation with you someday. The sooner the better. He thoroughly beat himself up for this too.
You excused yourself promptly, “I’ll check on Nao.” Yoongi simply nodded.
Alone in the quiet of the short hallway that connects the kitchen to your living room, you leaned against the wall. A mix of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself against the ache in your chest.
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₊˚.🎧 ✩。 in my dreams by red velvet ₊˚.🎧 ✩。
note: this is a self-indulgent drabble series i'm writing, nothing is planned and i'll just write as i go
i hope u guys enjoy it!
find the series masterlist here.
850 notes · View notes
yuyu1024 · 2 months
Text
Fate
Pairings: Yoongi × y/n
Genre/tags: Arranged marriage
Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 mention of blood/violence/drugs/trafficing, trauma, mention of killing, kidnapping, gun, mention of food/eating/weight, cursing, sensual touching, making out smoking, smut (but not this chapter)
~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 5.2k
Disclaimer:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
Note:
Part 1 - Prisoner
Part 2 - Escape
Part 3 - Twilight
Part 4 - Fate
A/N: again... im really sorry for being a slow writer/update for this mini series🙏🏻 i can't help it. 😭 I do get msgs asking for updates & i feel bad... so sorry 🥹 I try my best to have time to get into the story/characters whenever i have free time. I work full time and have a 2nd job too so it takes all my energy. I'm really... really sorry.😭
But yeaah, thank you for everyone liking my yoongi fanfic. 🖤🫶🏻 thank you for the patience😭
I hope this chapter is okay ♥️
****
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(Prologue/Flashback)
"Sshh..." she covers your mouth for you to stay quiet and not make any noise. She reminds you constantly to keep it together or else they will find you. "Just a little bit more, Yoongi." She whispers. "Calm down..."
You try your best to do what she says because you want you guys to survive this. To escape. However you are a kid and you are terrified. And you can't stop yourself from shaking like a twig. Also you are rapidly breathing through your nose. Tears even start to fill your eyes as you look into her eyes.
"You'll be fine..." she says to you. "Noona, will protect you."
"I'm scared..." You whisper grabbing onto her long braided hair.
You two are a few inches apart. If she could only embrace you, she will. However there are metal bars between you two and she is.... injured.
"Me too." She wants to cry to as she must be as scared as you or maybe, more. But since she's the eldest between the two of you she have to be brave for you. "Just go to sleep... I promise... the moment you wake up...when the sun is shining after the storm tonight... we'll be safe... we'll already be at home..."
"P-promise?"
She tries her best to not break down because she knows that she's promising something that's very unrealistic in your situation right now. Both of you are held captives, kidnapped and waiting to be saved.
"I promise." She sniffs "Just hold onto this for now..." she meant her hair and then reaches her hand to you slowly even it's causing too much pain for her. "Go to sleep... Noona will be right here..." the tip of her fingers barely touched your cheek. "I will protect you..." she adds
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[Present]
The silence between you two is very deafening. Even the staffs at the mansion notices how both of you are very distant to each other.
Odd right? They should be used to this situation since Yoongi is the silent type or the one who does not talk that much especially to you.
However for you, maybe this is out of character as every one is not used to you being like this. Well THIS silent anyway.
You usually talk and greet them or make small talks with them or Yoongi even if it's just a random question to make him just...talk. You do anything to make him speak to you. You make small efforts to chase his attention just to get him look back at you per say. Like a dog.
But now, since he made sure to leave you the moment you got vulnerable with him during sex and mentioned a feeling you have, which in the first place you had no idea you have, really hurt you this time. Big time. It is a rejection that you never thought would bother you this much.
"You two are awfully quiet." Mrs. Min says as soon as she puts down her cup of coffee on the table. "You two are both quiet originally... I know... but..." she looks at you and Yoongi back and forth twice. "Did you guys had a fight?"
No one answers.
"Guessing...silence means yes?" Mrs. Min looks at us again, hoping someone will speak up. "What did you do?" She asks Yoongi.
But he didn't open his mouth to speak. He just continued on chewing on his breakfast while his eyes are glued to you.
He has been eyeing you since the two of you left the mansion. He have been silently watching you move along, react and walk from your back. You don't notice it as you are trying to achieve to ignore him completely today. And so far, you are a gold medalist at it. You don't even bat an eye on him.
"Fine... not gonna ask anymore questions..." Mrs. Min gives up. "Anyways, after this lunch... I'll have a meeting with Hannah."
Yoongi flinches, finally reacting and gets interested to whatever his mother is saying. "What for?"
"About the private resort project that she is building... she wants my opinion about what brands to use for the decorations. She have a final lists of candidates of brands and she wants to know my say to it."
"Really...."
"Yes... and as soon as it opens... she says you two can go there... and celebrate... as her gift. Since she missed going to your wedding."
"Celebrate?" You finally spoke after how many years. Even Yoongi whip his head to look at you.
"Yes dear," Mrs. Min smiles so brightly and holds your hand. "You're 2nd anniversary... next month... right?"
"Ah, yes... right." You try to smile it away. But deep inside, you are not looking forward to it.
Why would you? Last year Yoongi didn't even greeted you Happy Anniversary. He probably didn't care back then so why would he care now and celebrate this year? This marriage is nothing to him.
"Is she coming here?" Yoongi asks his mother, changing back the subject to Hannah
"No... I am meeting her at her office."
You are holding on for dear life on your gold medal for 'Ignoring my husband award'. You are so curious to look at him. To see his beautiful face, how he reacts when they talk about her. Hannah. The girl you saw more than a year ago. The girl you saw on the driveway, talking to your husband while she hooked her arms on his'. The girl that Yoongi seems interested about. The girl he seems to.... like.
"How about you guys? What are your plans today after our brunch?" Mrs. Min asks
"Hmm.." he sighs heavily and then takes his phone from the table. "Probably fuck my wife " Yoongi answers nonchalantly making you and Mrs. Min almost choke on nothing. That sentence made you even look at him with wide eyes and red cheeks.
"Omo..." Mrs. Min is too stunned to even comprehend what she just heard. "Well... okay... too much information but..." she then takes a sip of her coffee. "You do you."
"I'm sorry..." you apologize to your mother-in-law.
You are embarassed. This topic should be a private matter. Everyone in the mansion already seem to have the idea what you two do on a regular basis but you do hope that outside, no one has to know.
It's not that you are embarassed of having a sex life. It's normal. Yes. But to have to talk about it to his parents, oh dear god, no.
"Why are you apologizing?" Yoongi's face looks so damn serious. "We are husband and wife right?"
You scowl at Him. You don't like how he acts or portrays like sex is just a hobby for him and it's nothing to be embarassed about. Especially in front of his mother while you are present. He really does not treat you like you have any feelings. He is evil.
"Okay... children...children... don't fight about this... it's okay. You already have issues before we got here so... it's fine." Mrs. Min tries to sooth the situation up.
She's so nice to try. Though she does not know the real reason why there is a huge distance between you two today. It's not that simple. You don't even know if she knows how his son treats you.
***
"Sir." Mr. Kim bows as both Yoongi and you arrives at the driveway, about to leave Mrs. Min's property.
"Get in." He orders you
You glare at him then roll your eyes away. You are in no mood now. You have scowled at him earlier already so why not do it more now that he is irritating you.
"Hold on..." he suddenly grabs you by the arm, stopping you from getting in the car. "Did you just fucking roll your eyes at me?" He scoffs
You try your best to pull your arms from his grip but he is stronger than you. "Let me go." You grunt
"What are you doing?" He asks, "You've been.... acting up lately..."
"I don't know...what you're talking about..." you finally freed yourself from his grip.
"Don't act innocent on me... I know you."
"Know me?" You snap. "How? We barely talked these past two years... You only look for me when you want something done and someone to fuck...besides that, I am nothing to you. So how the fuck will you know me?"
Finally! You've said something. However you can't lie to yourself how terrified you are right now. Your legs are shaking. You have never risen your voice like this before. Not with him. Plus Yoongi is so freaking silent. There was no reaction from him not like Mr. Kim who just coughed because of the sudden tension.
Is he in shock? He must be surprised to hear you speak out after all this time. He had never heard you talk like this before. You can't even read his expression. He is just looking down at you, straight on.
"Ahm... Sir... Miss... I'll leave you two... alone." Mr. Kim finally broke the awkward silence. "Just message me if... we're going home."
You glance at him and bow. Also giving an apologetic look since the situation got a bit serious.
And as soon as Mr. Kim is gone from our sight, Yoongi takes a step forward closer to you, making you back up and your behind bumping on the car. "Is that... what you think?"
You glare up at him. "Yes."
"You think... I don't know you?"
"Yes."
He chuckles. "I know you more than you know..."
You frown. "You only see me when you are horny... you don't even talk to me unless to I ask you... unless you tell me what to do and what not to do... so, how would you know anything about me...?"
He scrunches his face. He looks irritated "I see you more than you think." He mumbles. And then he took a step back and looks at you and watch you tremble,"Do you regret it?" He asks
"W-what? Regret what?"
"The sex... do you regret it?"
"W-what? What do you mean...?"
He then puts both his hands on the car, trapping you between. "Just answer the question... do you hate and regret the sex?"
You look away. "No...."
"Do you want us to stop fucking?"
You sigh heavily. "Why are you focusing on the sex?!?" Your brows are furrowed. You are really showing your frustration. "It's not about the sex, Yoongi! There is nothing wrong with the sex... what I just want is... I just..." you look back at his face and you see an empty expression from him. Does he not get what you are saying or is he ignoring the other parts of what you told him. That the only thing he thinks about is your sex life. "Never mind..." you lower your gaze. "It's not like my opinion matter..."
"Y/N..." Yoongi begins. You look back st him waiting for whatever he's about to say. You think he was about to response to you or maybe say what is on his mind as well. (Maybe.) However, both of you got suddenly distracted by the honk of a black sedan car entering the property.
You have seen that car before. It is familiar. And then when it stops and someone steps out of the car...
"Yoongi?" The woman that came out of the passenger seat, is Hannah. "What are you doing here?"
She is smiling ear to ear. Her smile is as bright as her tear drop pear earrings that is perfectly shown under her tucked bob hair. She's... so pretty.
"Oh... Hi..." she waves at you when she finally notices you
"Hi." You try to smile as brightly as you can.
"You must be Yoongi's beautiful wife." She is sweet. She looks like a friendly and easy going person. "I'm Hannah by the way... I'm Yoongi's friend since we're... toddlers..."
"Nice to meet you." You bow
"What are you doing here? Mother said..."
"Ah... yes... we we're supposed to meet at my office but I just came from another meeting and since we will pass by the house I decided to just meet her now..." she explains
"She must be in her room now.. preparing to meet you."
"Oh. I see... well, I guess I'll just surprise her." She grins. "Are you guys leaving?"
"Yeah... we just had brunch with her..."
Fuck. What is going on?
Just a second ago, you're having a serious confrontation with your husband. You guys are about to talk about the situation between you two. Yes, it may not be the ideal 'talk' but it is a start. But then, here you are. Hannah arrived and stole his full attention. Literally, she have all his eyes and ears. You suddenly became a shadow.
Then you are also hearing Yoongi converse. You are hearing how is he when he's not alone with you. You are hearing a side of him that you are not familiar with. 'Fuck Y/N, stop it.' You say yourself
Maybe, you just need to stop. Just stop complaining about his attention and him not liking you. Maybe he is not the problem. Maybe.. it's you? They forced him to marry and got stucked with you. YOU are the problem. You are NOT the person he wanted to marry. You just got selected just because.
You are the problem. As always. Like what everybody says to you.
"I'll just email you my thoughts after..." Hannah says
"Why not discuss it now?" Yoongi suggests
"Hmm...but you're about to leave..." she glances at you
"It's okay." Yoongi then pulls out his phone and messages someone. "I asked Mr. Kim to come... wait for him... I'll be quick." He says to you
You look at him for a second before you turn your back on him. "Sure." You sound lifeless. You sounded like you've given up already.
"Y-yoongi... you're going to make her wait?" She whispers to him but you care definitely hear it
"Let's make it quick. I don't want to work over the weekend."
He's more worried of working on the weekend but not making you stay and wait all alone.
They start to walk away. You could see their reflection through the windows of the car.
They left you alone.
He left you alone.
Then as you are standing there, waiting for Mr. Kim to come back, you slightly bend over your torso, holding onto the yourself as soon as you felt a little uncomfortable feeling on your lower abdomen. It's not painful but it is a bit of discomfort.
"Fuck..." you hiss under your breathe.
You should be careful now. Atleast until it's fully confirmed. Yes, you are pregnant. Well, that's what the PT told you a few days ago.
You took the test, in your bathroom, scared and shaking like a twig. You have never felt this terrified in your life. Ever. And the freaking 3mins of waiting felt like forever whilst you are in there, sitting on the floor.
But yeah, after the torture of waiting, the test did show two lines. It was a faint but it is positive. And during that moment, your world suddenly stopped spinning. You had to gather your thoughts and emotion within the span of 30mins that you have. (Because your maid will enter your bathroom to help you get ready after 30mins). That was one other toture you had to endure. And to add more spice on this never ending problem is that you were all ALONE. You had no one to hold hands or hug for moral support.
You are, all by yourself.
After testing, you did processed the result in your mind and managed to get back right to reality and decide by yourself to be... okay. To take it as another good day. Because this is not something bad. It is a miracle. It's a life.
Though, you can't lie. It was a whirlwind of emotion. And you don't know what to feel yet about it. You are not even sure if you are able to share it with anyone, even Yoongi since you still need to see a doctor to really confirm it.
Confirmation.
You fucking need that final 'yes you are pregnant'. Because your further decisions in life will revovle around that one thing. Decisions that might affect this marriage and basically affect your whole life. So, you really have to find a way to get a doctor's appointment in secret. For now...
"Miss?" Mr. Kim arrives and sees you slouching, "Is everything alright?"
You turn around, stands up straight and smile. "Yes..."
"Are you hurt?" He asks
"I'm fine... but I just think... my stomach feels heavy a bit from eating... I did ate quite a bit." You lie.
"Okay, let me bring you home quick so you could rest." He says
"Thank you."
****
[Yoongi's side]
Yoongi can't sleep. He got home earlier just an hour after Y/N got home. He asked the maids to call her, to have dinner with him, but unfortunately Y/N was already fast asleep.
He waited for her to wake up from what he thinks is just a quick nap. But whenever he asks the maid if she's up, they just shake their head and say sorry.
They fought. He thinks. It felt like they fought. It's his first time hearing her talk to him like that. She have been always timid and her patience with him is very long. However, she finally have had it.
How can you make your wife, who is clearly showing you that she's falling in love with you, start to hate you?
Well, Yoongi knows what he did and is doing to her. He is very controlling, cold and distant. And these are the traits that can't be part of your life especially of you are married. However, this is how he is. As a child no, but ever since the incident happen fifteen years ago, the trauma and the life he had to put through made him, This.
Outsiders might call him as the devil or the punisher of the Min Family because of all the work he is doing inside the office and outside. He is a fighter and his hands are always covered with blood. Though what he's doing is not a crime. The Min's business is not illegal. They control everything that they can do end everything that is illegal in the most legal way possible. If that makes sense.
They were just a business before. A typical rich family. But yeah, since what had happened to them years ago, they changed their rules and how they do it now.
And that's why Yoongi have this cold exterior. He needs to show to everyone who's watching him that he can't falter. That no one could try to even break him like how those monsters break his father. How those monster took them and made them hostages.
10 million. That's all it takes, for some uneducated humans do the most horrendous thing in this world. To hurt and kill an innocent child. A 16yrs old girl and a 14yr old boy.
Their parents were willing to give the money and even more, just for them to surrender their children. However, the fear in them when they know that the children saw their faces, made them decide to end it all.
Yuna, his older sister, sacrificed her life to save Yoongi. She is one brave young lady. She managed to push his brother just in time to fall on the edge, to roll down small hill and get away through the woods. She got shot and died on the spot. Yoongi saw everything but didn't had the time to grieve then and there because he had to survive yet. To run.
It took two more days before he was found. How he survived? No one knows. But since that day, the happy and cheerful little boy grew up and became the cold Yoongi everyone knows now.
He knows that what he have been through is not an excuse to treat his wife so coldy like this. She was only forced the marry him. She didn't even know him. Which is his fault as well because he didn't allow her to enter his bubble. Up to now...
However, through all the times that he have been with her little by little, as per his therapist's words, 'You are slowly breaking.' She said.
She said that before, whenever she asks him about his wife. He is usually nonchalant or indifferent. Like he's just talking about someone he randomly met. But then one day, the therapists said, she saw a glimpse of change in his eyes the moment she asks about his wife. His expression is the same but his eyes started to shift like he's thinking about it more before he speaks.
'You care. You just don't know how to show it' she said to him.
At first, When Yoongi heard that from his therapist, he got worried. Not because He is starting to have this feeling for his wife. No. His wife is never and will never be a bad thing that happened to his life. He is worried because, what if he breaks his cold exterious and somewhere out there in the world takes advantage of it and what happened years ago will happen again?
That is his only concern. That is why, he added more men. That's why Y/N can't leavr a house alone. That's why he always tracks her phone wherever she is. That's why he can't sleep without know if she is fine or not.
If only... he never had these issues, these traumas from the past, maybe... it's easier.
"Please... don't quit on me..." he says out loud as he closes his eyes, imagining the smiling face of his wife. "Don't... leave me..." he mutters
****
After what it seems like a very, very long day for you you're finally home. You are so tired that the first thing you did after getting changed is sleep. It feels like this is the longest you've slept in like forever.
You keep turning and waking up every now and then but your body kept forcing you to not wake up. It's like its telling you that you needed this. After all of the worrying you have been having these past few days. This sleep is for you.
But then maybe after hour five of sleeping, you felt something cold touch your skin. It didn't sting. It oddly felt good.
Slowly opening your eyes, you see a blurred figure in front of you. He's so close that you could actually smell his scent. The smell of baby powder.
"Yoongi?" You ask softly as your eyes slowly adjusted to the little light of your lamp shade. But no one answered back. You then rub your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more. Just to be surez you saw what you saw.
No one. There's no one there.
"Did I... just dream about him?" You ask, looking at the ceiling. "But I swear..." you trail off. "How funny... even in my dream... I see him..."
But you swear you smelled his scent. Your imagination of him is getting stronger. Your memory of him is getting move vivid. Even the smell now. That's how longing you are of him.
You miss him. Even though he is there  you miss him. Oddly, you miss the time that both of you are just sitting down together in his home office and just reading. You miss casually asking him questions. You miss hearing him talk even though he's talking about his work and not to you. You miss him even though you just saw him earlier. Even though... he hurt you.
His scent. The scent you really, really like. His smell whenever you two have sex. It's not strong but it's there. Whenever you close your eyes and drift away from the high, you know you are okay as long as you could smell and hear him.
Fuck. Is this how being in love is?
Just thinking about him makes you want to cry. You are frustrated at him but at the same time frustrated to yourself as well. Why is communicating is so hard? You know that's the issue. Both of you are not good with talking nor expressing yourselves. Well, that's what Taehyun told you earlier.
Yeah, you went on a side trip earlier before going home, to meet your friend at his work. You needed someone to talk to and you know Taehyung is always there ready to listen to you.
You poured your heart out earlier, crying and all. You were sorry for disturbing him at work but you needed that cry and that hug. You had to told him your feelings about Yoongi. You have to say it out loud for you to truely understand the situation and yourself.
You needed someone's opinion to point out the obvious so it could stick in to your brain.
Growing up to a family where your opinion does not matter took a toll on you as well. Especially to an adoptive family. A family that only needed you for money.
To them, you always feel left out and does not deserve a voice. They always tell you that they only gave you a roof above your head and food to eat because you are what they needed. A piggy bank.
Your parents died in an accident years ago, when you are just 12yrs old. There was a police chase in the highway that rainy day. Every one is on high alert and giving way. But well, the criminals weren't exactly running away and trying to avoid cars. They hit quite a few vehicles during the chase and one of them was your parent's. The crash caused an explosion, killing them in an instant.
And like any drama stories on TV, yout aunt took you in because of your parent's insurance. They are not big but it is a decent amount. However, they could not actually touch it since it is saved for your education that's why the first month of you staying with them was torture. They beat you, make you work and starve you from time to time because they said, 'you don't deserve to eat unless you work for it'.
One reason why starving yourself was easy for you when you need to.
But then things changed a bit when someone knocked on the door one day and gave your adoptive parents a good amount of money. You remember the man saying 'this is for the trouble and lost we caused your family during our battle for saving our children.' You do remember you aunt, being a good actress that day, crying and all. You even saw them be in a good mood. Everyday because of that money. So since then, whenever you have a part time job or one good seasonal job, you save up and give it to them.
You do this not because you want them to be happy. You do this because you wanted peace for yourself. They will not hurt you if you give them what they need.
This is one reason too why you accepted this marriage. Even though, you know you will have trials too. But atleast you know, no one is going to hurt you physically anymore.
Though, you are having troubles now too.... it is still different. Like you said, it is the communication.
Is it all Yoongi's fault? No. Taehyung said that maybe, since I'm very submissive and him being very dominant, grew up giving orders or not listening to anyone because he is who he is, it affected the talking part in the relationship. Though he cannot say that it is a hundred percent fact. Because he explain, everyone have different stories of growing up and these affects every facet of their whole being when they get old.
Well, that's what you got from all his talk. Half of it, you are numb from all the crying and can't hear properly.
Though that talk with Taehyung,you needed that. Now all you have to do is talk to Yoongi.
If.... you have the courage too.
It is so hard to start a conversation not knowing how he feels about you. It is scary and a risk. But you are hoping it will turn out good especially now that you are expecting.
"Oh, right! The result!" You got up immediately and grab your phone.
You visited Taehyung in the hospital and he got to help you get a blood test to confirm. You forgot to talk to him about the result because you two are busy with doing friend therapy. He said, he'll just email you the result.
But then as you were scrolling scrolling through your emails your stomach growls. "I'm hungry..." you mumble and pause. "Taehyung said that if I am really pregnant... I need to eat properly now..."
And you haven't eaten dinner since you just slept since you came home. You need to eat.
Looking at the time it's pass 10pm already. Everyone must be asleep now or getting to bed so you must go and make yourself food yourself.
"Just one toast." You say as you push your blanket away. "Or two..."
You walk along the hallways as quietly as you can and then take the stairs instead of the elevator, going to the upper ground, so you could not disturb anyone.
There is still minimal light coming from the kitchen area. 'Maybe someone is still there?' You thought to yourself and hoping it is one of the maids so they could help you grab the things in the pantry. Since you don't really know how they organize it.
But then the second you turn to the corner, to enter the doorway
"Ah!" You hit your head first at something. Or at someone
Then after collecting yourself from bumping on someone, you look up to see who it was. "Sorry, I wasn't looking at--"
Fuck! It's not Yoongi nor anyone of the staff.
You tried to run back and scream but it was too late. He was quick to cover your mouth with a cloth. A scented cloth. The smell quickly pierced your nostrils and immediately made you feel dizzy and sleepy.
You are barely awake but you know he carried you over his shoulder. You could see the floor and the lights slowly to flicker. You are about to loose it.
'Help... Someone.... Yoongi... please...' You say to yourself before totally loosing consciousness.
-----
Taglist based on the replies last post 🖤
@gaby-93   @goodbyetwenty   @baechugff
@amyz78   @qeen123   @armystay89   @bangtannie7 @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @corruptedmistress @ot72025 @cheezwiz
@xkh0  @eli-deville
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moog-rt · 3 months
Text
GO TO HELL [ch. 1]
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[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]
Previous: Prologue
➨ Chapter One
Next: Chapter Two
Premise:
You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.
Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.
Warning(s): blood, gore, cannon-typical violence
If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:
Otherwise, enjoy!
♡ ♡ ♡
CHAPTER ONE
Your head throbbed, and cradling it with your hand only turned it into a piercing pain rather than dulling it.
You were careful as you worked to stand up. It was hard to grab hold of anything sturdy enough to support your weight, and upon closer inspection, it turned out you were taking a power nap in a pile of garbage. And, boy, was that shit rank.
You stumbled your way onto solid ground whilst picking gunk-covered plastic from your shirt and hair.
The surroundings that greeted you were unlike anything you could imagine. The sky appeared polluted with red smog so thick you couldn’t see the sun, though it didn’t smell like the kind of pollution you were used to. Rather than chemical, it stank of smoke and decay.
Every breath you took of this new atmosphere felt thick and raspy. You weren’t sure you could really even consider it breathable. You were probably inhaling a handful of carcinogens by the second.
From what you could see through the gap of the two buildings that made up the alley you were in, there was a city. It was as if the materials of the buildings were selected to complement the sky. Everything was a different shade of red or burgundy. The plumes of smoke that tunneled up in the distance were mildly concerning, though they didn’t seem to be an immediate threat.
It was all enough to drive a clear sense of dread through your gut. No way in Hell were you supposed to be here. You should be on your way to Devon’s place- No, you were at Devon’s place, in their living room.
And now you were…well, you didn’t really know. That was kind of the problem.
The panic only truly set in after you tripped, scraping your knees on the filthy cement. You didn’t want to know what caused that dark brown, slightly chunky stain. Turning to face the lump that caused your stumble, your stomach plummeted. Face paled.
That was a corpse. A whole not-so-human corpse. Mangled and lying motionless in a pool of blood that was beginning to dry.
In an instant, you threw yourself off of the ground, backpedaling away from the body. What on Earth could have caused their limbs to bend in so many directions? On second thought, you hoped it would stay a mystery.
You couldn’t ruminate on it for long before you felt something large grab your shoulder, hoisting you around so your back was facing the alley. You winced as the grip grew tighter and looked up to see a green-skinned man with jagged teeth protruding from his mouth. 
In that instant, it felt as if your heart had been launched a thousand feet in the air.
His pitch-black eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to your face, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move or utter a single word. His grip moved to your neck, turning your head around so he could see you from every angle. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, he brought his nose to your cheek and inhaled deeply.
“A human,” he said in a grumbly voice. You could see a corner of his lips curl into a wicked smile. “That’s a first. It’d be a shame to let you go to waste.”
Go. You had to go.
To have a freeze-response in a situation like this was a death sentence. You hadn’t the slightest clue what this man’s–this thing’s–intentions were with you, but you had an inkling that it wouldn’t be pleasant.
You had to move. Even if it was just an inch, just enough to convince yourself that you still could. You would take either fight or flight over this.
“Is that soul still living?”
Your eyes flicked over to the source of the new voice. A tall, reptilian-looking creature with eyes that seemed to be bugging out of its head. They were no more comforting than the man who was only a few inches away from strangling you.
“Fuck off! I found ‘er. She’s mine!” Apparently, the lizard-man was enough to draw your assailant’s attention away from you.
Lizard-man did not in fact fuck off. That response was the confirmation that only further drew him in. Looking around, you noticed other inhuman creatures turning their attention toward the three of you.
The lizard-man made a sudden lunge for you, digging claws into the green man’s arms. He hollered out in pain with an endless string of curses.
In that moment, you felt his grip on you loosen, and you dropped to the ground like dead weight. This was your chance. Likely your only chance before both of them pounced on you at once. Maybe more by the looks of the other creatures closing in, as well.
Relief washed over you as you slowly moved your arm to push you up. The mental confines over your body had been released, and just in time. You were able to clumsily roll out of the way as the men threw each other to the ground, and with wobbly legs, you promptly hauled ass out of there.
You could hear screams of rage and surprise as you shoved through the people on the street, apologizing occasionally. You could feel dozens of pairs of eyes burning into the back of your head, and you were almost certain that some had given chase.
The odd buildings blurred past you. You may have caught a glimpse of a shop with televisions on display and another that looked as though human limbs were hanging on meat hooks, but this was no time for window shopping. All of it caused your head to spin from both physical and emotional whiplash.
The first corner you turned revealed a massive light-up sign that towered above everything else with text saying, “Welcome to Hell.”
What kind of twisted joke was this?
You ducked into another alleyway. Nobody was around, but you could still hear yelling close behind you. Your heart felt as though it stopped for a second as you took notice of a massive barricade blocking off the only exit. The first sliver of your luck finally showed itself to you in the form of a small gap that could be just big enough for you to fit.
You were forced to slow down in order to wiggle your way through it, allowing your pursuers to catch up. Just when you thought you had cleared the blockade, that big green hand wrapped around your ankle, yanking you back.
You cried out and pulled as much as you could until your foot slid out of your sock, successfully freeing you. Padding barefoot through this wretched city wouldn’t be pleasant, but you were sure it was better than whatever those things had planned for you.
As you pushed back into a sprint, you heard the green man’s voice screaming at the others about how he wouldn’t let them through before him. That was fine by you. He was much too big to fit through that hole, and you doubted he could scale the wall completely. If he was dead set on not letting anyone pass before him, then you probably had all the time in the world. Even so, you wouldn’t feel safe until you could get as far as your legs could carry you. 
So, ignoring your burning lungs and pounding heart, you pushed forward. Through the streets that grew more and more disheveled, collapsed buildings, cracked and upheaved asphalt roads. The lack of shoes only made it that much worse as your feet were getting sore. You were slowing down, but you refused to stop until you found someplace suitable to take refuge.
After the last main row of the city, there was a hill. And on top of that hill, there was a hotel.
Or so the sign on it said. Happy Hotel.
You could tell it was probably supposed to light up, but it wasn’t on, either because it was daytime (you assumed) or the bulbs were burnt out. Both seemed equally likely. The place was massive but appeared to be a hodgepodge of things all shoved into one, a cruise ship crashed into one side, a train on top of the roof… But despite its general run-down appearance, the stained glass windows remained untouched as if they were brand new.
It would be a gamble on whether this place was inhabited or not, but at least it was out of that shit show of a city. Probably the safest thing you’d come across thus far.
Besides, it was a hotel. Maybe you still had one of your cards in your pocket. If not, there was always Apple Pay, right?
The final push up the hill really did you in, leaving you panting and covered in sweat at the front door. You were dying to sit down and rest, but you wouldn’t feel comfortable doing so until you were inside. 
Seeing the building up close left you even more confused about whether or not the place was still running. The majority of the double front doors were stained glass with an apple shape in the center of each. It was quite beautiful. But at the same time, the edges of the frame appeared chipped and rotted, showing the building’s true age.
You were just thankful when the door creaked open without a fight. You didn’t want to resort to breaking in through one of those wonderful windows. With how loud it would be, you might as well scream out your arrival.
Aside from some of the detailed woodwork and repetitive apple iconography, the inside of the hotel was a bit sad to put it frankly. Little to no furniture. Cobwebs coating everything. The chandelier holding on by a thread (maybe the cobwebs were preventing it from falling). There was a minifridge, though!
You couldn’t imagine you would be lucky enough to find a cold bottle of water in there, but you decided to check to be sure. The cool air alone, wafting out as you opened its door, alleviated some of your discomfort. Unfortunately, there was no water or any beverage, for that matter. Inside were a couple of applesauce(?) cups and a styrofoam take-out container.
The fact that there was anything at all was concerning as it was a bit of confirmation there were already inhabitants. You would need to keep looking for a safe place to stay unless they ended up being the odd few in this town that weren’t out for blood.
On cue, cool metal prodded the back of your neck as you were closing the fridge, and you froze.
“What are you doing here?” asked the person behind you. Their voice was cold and harsh, and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. So much for going unscathed.
“I was just looking for somewhere to rest. I’m sorry for intruding,” you said just above a whisper, raising your hands instinctively. 
“You want to stay here?” a chipper voice cut through the air, echoing a bit in the large, empty foyer. They sounded almost happy you were trespassing. “Vaggie, this could be our first guest!”
“Babe, the hotel isn’t even open yet,” the first voice sighed before the metal was pulled away from your skin. You took that as an invitation to turn around.
Before you stood two young women–you’d guess late teens or early twenties. They were the most human-like people you had the pleasure of coming across since waking up in a hot pile of garbage. The only thing that threw you off was their grey and porcelain white skin tones. It was as if they were pulled out of a black-and-white movie from the ‘50s.
You’d take what you could get at this point. At least they didn’t have scales.
“We’ll just have to move up our grand opening then,” the taller girl sang with a wide, sharp-toothed grin. She bounded over to you, squatting down to meet you at eye level. “Would you be interested in a shot at redemption? It doesn’t matter what you’ve stolen or who you’ve murdered. Everyone deserves a second chance!”
Was this chick for real? What did redemption have to do with a hotel? And why would you need to be redeemed?
Your mouth hung open as your eyes bobbed between the two strangers.
“Wait a second…” The shorter girl–who you realized was the one holding a fucking spear to your neck–suddenly went wide-eyed. “You’re a human. Jesus, she’s a human!”
The blonde stared at her for a moment before turning back to you with knit eyebrows.
“Really? How do you know?” she asked with a tilt of her head as her eyes darted all over you, looking for some tell-tale sign of your humanity.
In what world is it surprising to see a human? You hadn’t been shipped to Mars. That you were certain of. 
Then you came to your own realization. 
Devon must have drugged you! That was the only way this could make any sense. Was it acid? LSD? You’d have to ask them after you sobered up. Or maybe after you wring their scrawny little neck, because the therapy you’d need after this was sure to cost a fortune.
The hand that landed on your shoulder caused you to flinch. The shorter girl–Vaggie–was kneeling in front of you now. Her touch was delicate as if she was worried she’d break you if she put enough pressure. A stark contrast to the way she treated you a minute ago.
“How did you get here?” she asked in a much softer tone than earlier.
You let out a huff of air, a sorry excuse for a laugh. You smiled, shaking your head as your body slumped back against the fridge.
“I don’t even know where here is,” you laughed. “I was in my friend’s apartment one second and being hunted down by a mob of demons the next.”
The two exchanged a look before helping you to your feet. They settled you down on a couch, one of the few pieces of furniture they had, and got you a glass of water to sip on. The scrapes and cuts you had gotten during your chase, or possibly before it, were treated to, as well. The foot that lost its sock was particularly nasty.
They introduced themselves and explained that you were in Hell. You reckon you should have figured that one out from the big-ass sign you saw while running for your life.
In return, you told them the last few things you could remember before ending up here. Helping your friend with a demon-summoning ritual and getting dragged through a glowing hole in the ground as a result.
“Sounds like that backfired a bit,” Vaggie said. You couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Yeah, a bit. That’s what I get for doing my friend a solid, I guess,” you shrugged, leaning back as you gulped down more of the water. 
“Oh, don’t say that. At the end of the day, you helped a friend, and you found us! And we’ll definitely make sure you get home safe and sound,” Charlie grinned as she gently placed a hand on your knee.
You gave a small smile in return. You’re not sure how much you believed in her words, but it was sweet of her to try to reassure you. Her hope was almost infectious, and you could use as much of that as you could get.
“Also, you’re totally welcome to stay here for as long as you need! We’ve got plenty of rooms, and I’m sure we’ll start getting more furniture soon, and if there’s any food you’d like us to get, we can–”
“Baby, slow down,” Vaggie chuckled.
“Sorry…I guess I’m just really excited. You would be our first guest, and I’ve also never seen a human other than my mom before, and even she’s a special case…” Charlie said, looking off to the side as she brushed a blonde strand of hair behind her ear.
“The only humans we technically have are the ones that die and are deemed sinners,” Vaggie explained. “But they take on a new appearance. Usually, it reflects something within their soul.”
Huh.
“That’s…interesting,” you said, eyebrows tightly furrowed together. What does being a lizard man say about that dude’s soul? And what about being green? Maybe it was his favorite color? Or maybe he was green with envy. Haha.
“So what do you say?”
You looked at Charlie to see her holding her hand out to you. If the two of you were making a deal, she wasn’t really getting anything out of it. It was pure charity work…
“Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do for you in return,” you said, taking her hand.
With that, the two young women gave you a brief tour of the hotel. It was still a work in progress, but you could see Charlie’s vision. If they just cleaned it up a bit and filled in the space, it would look livable. You would be more than happy to help with that if you ended up spending enough time there, though you hoped it wouldn’t take that long.
If you weren’t back soon, your place would start getting cobwebs. You also couldn’t miss too many days of work…PTO wasn’t infinite, and you had bills to pay. Your coworkers would also have it out for you if you left them short-staffed.
What if they started putting up missing flyers? Hopefully, they wouldn’t blame the coworker you convinced to go home early. She was the last person you were spotted with in public, after all. No one knew you were going to Devon’s, so it was unlikely they’d take the blame.
Maybe the guy you had been in a situationship with for the last several months would be their suspect. Most of your friends knew all about him (primarily because you’d bitch and whine so much), and it’s not uncommon for people to point fingers at the ‘partner.’
He raised a few red flags here and there, sure, but what man hasn’t? None of them were even close to kidnap-murder level. Mostly just picking his toes in public and swearing on his life that his exes were the crazy ones, not him. Nothing necessarily surprising.
You needed to stop worrying and start embodying Charlie’s confidence in the situation. You would find a way to get back. You would not be stuck in Hell long enough to raise alarm. You just had to manifest it!
Eventually, your hosts showed you to the room you could stay in. It was one of the few furnished ones besides their room at the moment. They also gave you a change of clothes after realizing just how dirty (and smelly) yours were after waking up in a trash heap. Plus, you had two socks again!
You met back up with them in the foyer when you were finished. They wanted to discuss possible ways you could get out of Hell, which you had absolutely no problem with. The two of them brainstormed for a bit while you just sat back and listened in. Vaggie brought up that some upper-class ‘hellborns’ had ways in and out of Hell, but she didn’t have any specifics.
You felt bad not contributing, but what did you know about traveling between the living world and Hell? Jack, that’s what. 
“Do you think your dad would know? He’s probably had to get to Earth for some reason or another, yeah?” Vaggie asked, but she was met with a grumble of a response.
“I don’t know…” Charlie said with a frown, all her hopeful energy zapped away in an instant. “He’s never been super helpful with stuff like this.”
“Come on, babe. If anybody would know, it would be him,” Vaggie pressed. “He’s gotta have something we could use.”
Charlie simply groaned as she threw her upper body over the arm of the sofa and sat like that for a minute or two. It was possible that she wasn’t on very good terms with her father. Or he was just exasperating to deal with.
You sent a worried look at Vaggie, because what were you supposed to do in this situation?
“Okay, yeah. We can swing by my old house tomorrow and poke around,” Charlie said as she stood up.
“Great, but you,” Vaggie jabbed her finger in your direction. “Get ready to wake up bright and early. We’ll have to make you presentable first.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Next Chapter
427 notes · View notes
drak3n · 4 months
Text
THE LOST LOVE
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ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: two lovers who went seperate ways years ago… one of the cases we love most!
ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, age gap (reader was in college & toji in his thirties when they met), dad!toji, breakup, implied divorce, insecurities, smut, unprotected sex
bold italic quotes = letter excerpts
PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“i like to think that meeting each other was like a breath of fresh air. for both of us. wouldn’t you agree?”
wake up. go to work. get home. eat. sleep. repeat.
toji’s life was a vicious cycle, one of a middle age man with no goals in life. it was funny to him how people would actually call that a life.
the only times he truly felt like he was alive was when he was seated on the bleachers watching a good old horse race. or a boat race. or whatever it was that he had bet money on.
no one understood him.
toji knew that life rarely gifted him anything. he was no lucky man. in the many years of betting and gambling, he seldomly won. and the money he had won those few times was enough to cover the ticket and perhaps a nice dinner.
and although knowing he was probably going to leave empty-handed, he did it for the thrill. it made him feel youthful again. like he hadn’t wasted his years on useless things that aged him faster than he had hoped to. like he was still the same old teenager he had been years ago.
it wasn’t until one fated day that he found out that there were other things that could bring him back to his youth, other than doing useless crap that only burned a hole in his pocket.
said thing being you.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“the way we met wasn’t really romantic. it wasn’t like a scene out of a movie or a novel. looking back, it was quite comedic, even. i’m sure you felt the same way.”
there were a lot of terrible things that came with being a busy person, one of which you were facing right now. standing in front of a ridiculously long line at the grocery store.
you ran out of basic ingredients for cooking, it was a saturday evening, and you really did not want to order takeout again for a third time this week.
standing in front of you was a group of drunken kids — by kids you meant they were around your age, maybe in college like you — but they were different. they seemed carefree. they used their time to have fun and laugh instead of constantly grumping and punishing you with more work than you had.
you wished you could be like them, too. at least sometimes.
what made you get out of your train of thoughts was the sound of an item being placed on the conveyor belt, the rattling sounding too familiar for your liking. another person who hated cooking, so it seemed. and another person who barely had enough change to get a cup of instant noodles.
it was a man — you heard from the occasional sighs and grunts leaving his lips, and the way his cologne wafted over to invade your senses.
why did you suddenly have the urge to turn around and bond with this random stranger? perhaps hit him up with something like ‘heck, youngsters these days, right?’
absolutely not. that would be goofy as hell. and judging by how slowly the like progressed, you were likely going to stand here for at least ten more minutes. you would rather die than make a fool of yourself and then proceed to stand here for even longer afterwards.
oddly enough, the huffing stranger beat you to it. your breath hitched in your throat at the gruff voice sounding.
“s’cuse me, little lady.”
a bulky arm shot forward from behind you, making you step aside to grant him access to the side of the conveyor. you cleared your throat, turning around with an apologetic smile— and damn was he hot.
he looked quite a bit older than you, and he looked quite… distraught. sleepless, deep green eyes, unruly jet black hair that looked like he hadn’t gotten cut in a while, and a stubble gracing his jaw and chin.
you hated romanticizing people who weren’t feeling their best. so, you quickly snapped out of it.
“sorry for hogging the conveyor.” you chuckled, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere as everyone else in the line was quite angry. the man gave you a halfhearted smile, scar on the right side of his mouth stretching. you wondered how he’d gotten that scar.
“don’t worry ‘bout it,” he waved your apology off, slightly motioning at the impatient woman huffing and puffing behind him. “someone’s just very fuckin’ annoying.”
you couldn’t help but chuckle at his words. then, your eyes wandered to the conveyor, staring up to meet his again. “you can get in front of me, sir.” you offered kindly, already moving to make some space in front of you, “don’t have to wait even longer for a single item.”
the surprise in his eyes was a dead giveaway that no one had been polite or nice to him in a long time. before he could make it obvious, he shook his head, uttering, “s’fine. thanks.”
but you insisted, for some reason. it wasn’t until he was standing in front of you, cup of ramen placed in front of your groceries, and the seething woman now standing right behind you, that you were happily smiling.
the man walked off after paying for his noodles when the line finally progressed what felt like years later, not even sparing you a glance. you were barely able to contain your disappointment as you bagged your groceries and shuffled outside of the store, ready to take the train back home with full hands.
just to see the man from the line in the grocery store thumbing at the instant noodle cup’s lid, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.
his hands wordlessly approached yours to take your bags of groceries, not even frowning at the heaviness of them, as he let out a puff of cigarette smoke.
“i’ll drop ya off, little lady.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“our love was fierce. characterized by sleepless nights, stolen breaths and undying passion.”
ragged breaths filled the air of your small bedroom. it was dark, perhaps around nighttime, and the air was thick with sweat, arousals and the sinful smell of sex.
a lazy kiss was exchanged between you two with swollen, trembling lips as you settled down in each other’s arms. your eyes were shut as toji moved a little to light a cigarette.
your fingertips traced over his bare, built chest, post-orgasmic glow making his handsome face look even prettier. you were convinced he was the prettiest man you’d ever seen in your life.
“are you staying for dinner?” you asked, voice hoarse and quiet from how he had formerly railed you into your mattress. toji wasn’t a gentle lover. the word soft was very foreign to him. but you didn’t mind that. you didn’t mind him squeezing your hand too tightly whenever he held it. he didn’t know any better.
he exhaled the cigarette smoke away from you, large palm settling on the tender, bruised flesh on your hips. his thick, rough fingers traced over the softness of your skin that he had grabbed and kneaded mere minutes ago while manhandling you.
“sorry, baby,” he mumbled into your hair as you already knew what was coming, “gotta go. i’ll stay over next time, promise.”
you wanted him to stay, you really did, but with a sigh, you watched as he got dressed and left — not without pulling you into another kiss. missing the way his eyes twisted with a hint of guilt as he shut the door to your apartment behind himself.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“you weren’t a man of many words. you didn’t like talking too much about yourself. but you’d always listen to whatever i’d say. and whenever i wasn’t up to talk, we’d relish in each other’s silence. it was calming.”
“how many girlfriends have you had before me?”
the silence surrounding the air on your balcony after your question made you reconsider if it was a smart thing to ask.
it wasn’t. since when was it okay to talk about exes? you remembered it as one of the most off-putting conversation topics to ever come up with.
toji’s bare arms were propped up against the metal railing, gaze wandering from the unspectacular sight below him that consisted of old, run down buildings and sketchy streets, to you.
he knew it was too late to tell you the truth. he pressed his scarred lips together in regret, before opening his mouth to respond to your question.
“many.”
he saw the way your nose scrunched up at the ugly word — he wished it had been the truth. much better than hurting you with a fucking lie. made him wonder how you’d react to the truth.
“c’mere.” when you didn’t make a move to approach toji, he pulled you into him, dwarfing your body in his form. “you’re not mad, are you?”
“how could i ever be mad at you?”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“there was just one thing i wish you had just told me from the beginning. you know, i actually knew the entire time. i was just waiting for you to tell me.”
“dad, the show’s about to start.”
toji was now a couple of years older, about to celebrate his fourth decade of living in a few weeks. he wouldn’t admit that he was getting older. he had just plucked another gray hair from his scalp this morning, but no one had to know that.
sock-clad feet padded from the kitchen to the living room, bowl of salted popcorn in his hand as he placed it in front of his college-aged kid. toji was in awe at how the brat was becoming more of a carbon copy of himself the more years passed.
the only difference being his spiky, wild hair and blue eyes he had gotten from his mother.
“we’re not watching a match today?” toji sounded rather bored as he leaned back on the couch with a can of soda in his hand, legs finding the surface of the living room table as the younger man munched on sweets.
megumi shook his head, eyes focused on the screen that was still playing some shampoo commercial. “have you ever heard of TATMYLB?” the green-eyed man beside him narrowed his eyes at the obnoxiously long abbreviation, .
“kid. i don’t understand your language,” he grunted, “i’m headin’ out if it’s another high school rom com.” said boy only snorted as he pointed at the tv that happened to be playing a trailer of what was going to be playing next.
“reading today… TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE’s 26th letter!” toji kissed his teeth. of course it was going to be some sappy ass show. why was it so popular anyway?
he raised from the couch, scratching his belly lazily under his sweater as he pointed to the door with his thumb. “gonna check the mail,” he uttered, “we haven’t emptied our mailbox in days.”
megumi hummed, too immersed in what today’s live episode was going to be about. just as toji approached the door, curiosity got the best of him, and he found himself listening.
“unfortunately, she won’t be joining us today, but we have received a beautifully written letter by her! what a lucky man to have been loved like this.” the host spoke gleefully as the audience erupted into cheers and applause.
“our writer is a 29 year old lady from tokyo, a journalist for a very popular newspaper, which explains her splendid writing,” the co-host added, “she has met a man she refers to as her LOST LOVE nine whole years ago.”
toji set his keys down on the shoerack and walked back to the living room. megumi took notice of his dad walking back and smirked. “caught your attention, old man?” he only scowled at his son and placed his hands on the back of the couch.
the stage was beautifully built, and one could tell how much budged was spent on it all. it was a hell lot of pink, too much for toji’s liking — then again, any amount of pink was too much for his liking. the hosts were dolled up to the max, host dressed in a baby pink, frilly dress with her hair done up while the co-host was dressed in a pink suit.
“adding on to that… we have not received an answer or a reaction from the recipient.” a glum round of oh’s echoed across the studio, which made toji snort. “which doesn’t have to mean anything, of course! perhaps he’s just terrible at checking his mail.”
megumi stopped mid-chew as he side-eyed his father, who shot him a look. “old man, you don’t think—” megumi might have been young, but he had a very good memory of his father’s past lovers. especially that one woman who had changed him forever. you.
although he had never met you, he could tell it was you who had a huge impact on his father. and he figured that toji never opened up about having had a son.
“don’t be silly, bud,” toji laughed, reaching over to steal a handful of popcorn from the bowl in his son’s lap. he didn’t even like popcorn, why the hell was he eating it? it had to be the most annoying snack in the world with how the shell of the kernels always got stuck in one’s gums or throat.
you must have moved on years ago. it’s been almost a decade, for fuck’s sake. perhaps you were married already. had kids. he hated how the thought made his jaw clench. it was none of his business anymore, after all.
“mistakes. we all make them. so far, we have had a lot of letters speaking about wrongdoings,” the host clapped her hands together, “but how about keeping secrets? crucial ones?”
of course they were going to drag it on. what a bunch of clowns the audience was for eating it up. he totally wasn’t, not with the way he was clutching the couch cushions in anticipation.
he just wanted to know it wasn’t you, so he could move on in peace. because if you have moved on, then he shall do the same.
the audience was then asked to talk about their experiences with secrets in a relationship, before they started guessing what the person might have done.
eventually, an elderly woman received the mic and laughed. “it wasn’t another woman, so,” she paused, “i’d say hiding a child.”
the two hosts opened their mouths before knowingly looking at the audience, and toji cleared his throat. by now, megumi was fully facing his father, a look of disbelief on his face. before he could speak, toji raised a palm.
“i said don’t be silly,” he warned megumi, “it’s not me. jesus.” megumi shook his head before raising his palm to invite his father to a handshake, challenging him to a bet, “fifty bucks if it’s you, then.”
toji could never say no to bets. maybe he should have checked his mailbox first, though.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
the show was halfway through, currently on a commercial break as you found yourself in the kitchen to prepare yourself a cup of instant noodles. the sight of the cup still brought you back to day you had met toji.
before you could open the lid of the cup, you were halted by the sound of your doorbell ringing. leaving behind the sounds of your kettle whistling, you approached tye door to look through the—
your hand immediately flew to the handle to fling the door open. to stare right at the man you hadn’t seen in over seven years.
there was a lot both of you wanted to say. he wanted to apologize for having disappeared out of nowhere, for having abandoned you when things had been going so well between both of you; while you wanted to slap him, cuss him out and scream at him.
alas, all that came out was a choked sob on your behalf. a sound forced out of your throat, displaying the despair you had felt out of the lack of closure.
toji watched with wide eyes as you broke down in front of him. he wanted to make you happy. or get yelled at. anything but you crying. fuck, he was terrible at this.
toji was only ever good at leaving. that’s what he had done back then when his family no longer served him; that’s what megumi’s mother had spat at him before she left.
screw the past. screw all of his fears. he had waited far too long to come clean. you didn’t deserve this at all.
“i’m sorry.” he breathed, taking a step closer, now partially surrounded by the warmth of your place that hadn’t changed in the slightest. “i hid him from you because—”
you shook your head, trembling hands raising to wipe at your reddened eyes, “i don’t give a damn, toji.” he shut his mouth, because respectfully, you had all the right to be angry.
what he didn’t expect was for you to chuckle through tears. “stop looking at me like that,” you pointed at his lips, “that stupid pout of yours…” he had a habit of pursing his lips whenever he was distressed. you hadn’t forgotten about it.
when you stepped aside to welcome toji inside, he was baffled. “‘course you didn’t read the letter,” you sneered, which made him look down grimly, “if you had, you’d know that i could never be mad at you.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
you didn’t ask toji to, but he told you everything. how he had just gotten divorced when he met you, and who had fought for split custody the entire time. who couldn’t have you over at his place because of the child’s room he had.
it wasn’t like he was ashamed to have had megumi. he considered him one of the very few good things in his life. but, he couldn’t risk scaring you off. not when he had found someone as perfect for him as you.
and when things got serious, he did what he knew best. which was to bolt.
it wasn’t a surprise to him that you already knew. he had the wrong idea of you by thinking you’d push him away just because he had a son. now he knew that you could have been the best stepmother megumi could have asked for.
if he hadn’t blown it all.
“so he’s in college now?” you were smiling as you were both situated on your couch. toji feld oddly calm looking at you. you hadn’t changed much.
“this was us at his high school graduation,” he couldn’t help but smile too as he showed you his phone wallpaper. the thought that you could have been on that picture too made your smile fade for a second before you found yourself melting at how proudly he glanced down at his son in his crinkled button-down shirt, one arm lazily slung over the boy who looked at the camera with an irritated, forced smile.
you wondered if megumi would have liked you and already accepted you as his stepmother if toji hadn’t left. wondered if you two would have been married by now—
thoughts like those were useless now.
it happened so fast. like the force of two magnets attracting each other, it felt like you were pulled towards each other. a mumbled ‘i missed you’ left your lips before they planted themselves on his, both of you getting lost in the sensation of the other’s lips.
toji’s lips tasted like salt and popcorn, whereas yours tasted of the peace of candy you had popped into your mouth while waiting for the water to boil.
ah… right. the water. the kettle had stopped whistling a while ago. but both of you were busy sucking each other’s faces to notice that.
you were sat prettily on toji’s lap, hands running across his muscles hidden by his clothes. the only sign of him having aged were the tiny wrinkles on the corners of his eyes. other than that, he still looked like the 31 year-old toji you had met in the line of the grocery store.
he was the same man you had given your heart to. and you were eager to do it all again.
your clothing was shedded in a matter of minutes, hastily and in a rush. it felt like you were being intimate with each other for the first time all over again with wide eyes and shaky hands.
toji pressed you into his chest as he slid inside of you, and it seemed like the world stopped for a while. toji didn’t do soft, he wasn’t gentle. but you could swear you saw nothing but softness and adoration in his eyes in this very moment.
once he started thrusting up into you, your hands straddled his face, fingers digging into his skin as if afraid to let go. toji saw and felt the fear in your eyes, and he took both of your hands to place soft kisses on them.
“‘m not leaving again,” he grunted, relishing in the tightness and warmth he was buried inside of, “promise.”
you whimpered, nodding as you pulled him into yet another sensual, messy kiss while you worked each other through your releases. out of all the times you and toji had sex, this had to be the rawest, most intimate time.
it wasn’t fucking. it was love-making. the kind you’d never expect from a man like toji.
he stayed inside of you after both of you came, buff arms trapping you as you listened to his slowing heartbeat as both of you trembled. neither of you wanted to move, if you could, you’d stay like this forever.
toji’s lips against your temple pulled you back from your daze, and you reached for your underwear to avoid a mess, sighing softly when he pulled out of you. “shower?” he asked, to which you nodded lazily.
before he could lift and throw you over his shoulder, you placed a kiss on his collarbone.
“let’s eat instant noodles and rewatch the episode after that. since you haven’t read the letter—”
oh, toji was never going to hear the end of this.
but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
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kaysdenofchaos · 1 year
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// Battle Scars AU Masterpost //
Anything and everything BS AU related will be linked here! There is,, a lot, but I’ll prolly be dumping like two posts a day till I can get everything currently made out :3
About
BS! Tiktok Playlist (Click for more info, shitposts, & angst lol)
* @in-th3-v01d (Interactive RP Blog)
Prologue
Character Sheet/Trauma Info
Donnie & Shelldon Raph Leo: 1 2 Mikey & Void
April O’Neil Human Disguises
The Jones Liz (Mona Lisa)
Animations
Chapter 4 Animation (Cassandra causing havoc) TMNT AU Comp: Hockey Game (Turtles get clobbered)
Art Gallery
Chapter 3 Cover— Home. Chapter 4 Cover— Reunited
Kraangified [Comic] The Problem [PB+J Comic]
Turtle Tots (plus 2): 1 2 3 Don & Ozzi: 1 Donnie's Prosthetics: 1 2 Splinter & Co.: 1 2 Disaster Twins: 1 2 3 4 Angst (Donnie): 1 2
Dynamic Poses Raph, Mona, & Casey Hyena Fam: 1 K! Don
TMNT AU Comp Series: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
The Hug Archives/Ask Shenanigans: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 || Hug Wars (please catch this mf/lhj)
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Doodles: Timothy, Void Sketches, Jennika, Twins Spar, Void..?, Leon's Leo Doodles, RIP, Mikey hates L, Doodle Dump, Nightwatcher, Leo, Green
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