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#2 chandeliers over table
jinmark · 1 year
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Dining Room in Los Angeles
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Great room - large contemporary limestone floor great room idea with beige walls
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samconcepcion · 1 year
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Great Room in Philadelphia Great room idea with a large, modern dark wood floor and gray walls.
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wondersinwaynemanor · 3 months
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Gothamite 1: Mr. Wayne looks more tired than usual.
Gothamite 2: Must be women problems.
Gothamite 3: I heard Wayne Enterprises is going bankrupt.
Gothamite 4: He must be really sick cus he has that Timothy boy doing the work for him. Although, that kid has been gone for quite some time now.
Gothamite 5: I heard he's gay and working at a club at night.
meanwhile, Bruce is just trying to balance life as Batman and as a father while dealing with his de-aged kids.
he knew he shouldn't have brought them with him on the mission.
Young Dick, tugging a toy: I'm going to kick you in the butt if you don't give me that stuffed toy back!
Young Tim, balancing an energy drink with one hand while pulling the toy from Dick on the other: You're so selfish, Dick! It's my turn!
Young Jason: *reading a book outloud by the corner just to annoy everyone else*
Young Cass: *on the floor, trying to balance her waffles on the table, with syrup all over the area*
the whole place is littered with fruit loops and cookies, milk splattered on the floor, the curtains are torn, dirty footprints are on the couches, a cape from one of their Robin suits is hanging on the chandelier, and the flat screen is damaged.
Steph: Ooof, it's bad, B.
Damian: Tt. Is Zatara even in this planet right now, Father?
Bruce, pinches the bridge of his nose: I think she's off world right now.
Duke: I'm more worried when Alf comes back from vacation and he sees this whole mess.
Bruce: I--
then they all hurriedly move to the children when they start to tackle themselves on the floor.
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harveybwabbit92 · 3 months
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Grocery girl: Ken Sato x reader Pt. 2
You were a delivery girl who was frequently dispatched to the famous baseball player's Ken Sato residence, you were a nobody that anyone hardly paid attention to, until you found the legendary baseball passed out on his front steps looking like hell, being a bit of worry wart you help him inside and that things took a HUGE turn when you find yourself playing mommy for a giant baby dragon....
Part 1
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It had been almost a month since that strange incident with Sato. R/n tried bury it in the back of her mind but it always seem to find it's way back to the surface, it also didn't help that he was the main topic on every news outlet or at every water cooler gossip R/n has accidentally eavesdropped on. Apparently things weren't going very well for Mr. Sato's career.
Heck, even Meimei seems to have lost her earlier admiration for the baseball player as the younger girl had stopped asking R/n about him and switched to swooning and gushing over some K-pop group she fell in love with to anyone that would listen; R/n included, but that's teenagers for you they loose interest in things too easily, not that Meimei's uncle AKA the Boss was complaining he was just happy the kid was taking her job seriously now! So was R/n cos that meant Meimei would stop following her around asking about Mr. Sato every time she got back from a delivery.
Speaking of...
R/n pulled into Mr. Sato's driveway it seemed like the usual drop off situation until R/n got out of the van and nearly dropped the box of groceries at the sight that waited for her outside, R/n had to take a minute for her brain register what she was looking at first.
She thought it was a dummy left outside, before realizing it was person passed out on the steps and not just any old person. "Mr. Sato!" R/n put the box down and ran over to the downed baseball player she rolled him over to get look at his face and winced. Cripes! he looked like he'd been dragged through hell and back again!
R/n quickly tried to rouse the knocked out Sato by shaking him but that did little other making him mumble incoherently, R/n then through great struggle managed to lift him up off the stairs and was stunned at how heavy the baseball player was as his weight damn near sent them both tumbling backwards!
But R/n managed to steady them both as she pretty much dragged his limp body up the stairs. "This would be so easy for me if you'd just wake up." R/n grunted as she readjusted Ken so she could knock on his door; Hopefully his assistant was here and she could take care of him.
However when the front door opened on it's own there was no one there waiting. R/n stared nervously into the seemingly empty house, she heard nary a creak or breeze as she reluctantly took a step inside and tried not to yelp when the door suddenly shut behind her leaving the house in almost complete darkness.
Then the thoughts started creeping in and for brief moment R/n wondered if this was all possibly all a ruse and that Mr Sato was secret serial kill and that strange noises she heard last time was screams of his last victim...After all, who would suspect the famous baseball payer?!
But then R/n's more rational side reasoned how that ridiculous that was! if there was a killer on the loose there would've been some kind of news about it. R/n calmed herself down and dragged Mr. Sato to the first couch she found before getting his abandoned groceries from outside, R/n went against policy and opened them, grabbing a bottle of water and a Melon pan from it.
She left them on the coffee table for when he wakes up and was going to leave Mr. Sato for his assistant to find, But then R/n felt something off...did the floor just vibrate? Her brows furrowed as her eyes looked up at the ceiling and saw the boxy looking chandelier was swaying around; R/n shook her head. No, it wasn't her business... She got ready to leave, but then the thoughts about Mr. Sato possibly being a covert serial killer came back with a vengeance and she thought if he was hiding someone could that vibration them calling for help?
Checking to make sure Mr. Sato was still sleeping R/n cautiously crouched down low and pressed her ear to the floor only to jumped back with a gasp when she heard the same wailing from a month ago echoing from the floor below, R/n stood up and looked around the house for a way downstairs and found her only option was the large glass elevator cos of course the rich boy's got an elevator.... R/n stepped in and looked for a control button only for the elevator start moving on it own.
R/n tried to duck down in poor attempt to hide herself as it got closer to the bottom floor when it finally stopped and the delivery girl cautiously peeked out to see; well, she expected some kind of blood soaked torture room to be waiting for her, instead her eyes widened in awe at her futuristic surroundings if this was a basement it was like one she'd never seen before! The thoughts about Mr. Sato being a serial killer were quickly replaced with him possibly being a superhero fanboy.
This whole place screamed 'Batcave' as R/n stepped out of the elevator and began to wander around she wondered how much this place cost the baseball player to build? While R/n was gawking she failed to notice the large shadow slowly rising up behind her until it was too late.
R/n looked down and slowly turned around looking up as did her awe struck face slowly contorting into fear as she stared up at the beast behind her and shuddered.
"I never knew the harbinger of death would be so... pink!" 
*hours later*
Ken is woken up to by the baby squealing and his alarms going off like crazy! He looked at the time 11 pm...Oh, he missed her 9pm feeding, he wondered Mina didn't wake him up? when he spotted the water and Melon pan on the coffee table and ate and drank those as he made his way to the elevator but it was already downstairs causing him to pause.
Ken's mind was still hazy from juggling everything he couldn't remember if he'd gone downstairs earlier and went outside through the airlock to get back up into the house? Or maybe Mina brought something downstairs for the baby to use?
The answer was the last thing Ken expected as he descended into his base to find the baby playing Daruma-san (statues/red light green light for us yanks) with Mina and...Ken choked on his food when he saw his grocery girl standing in the middle of his base in posed like Hamlet (she holding Mina in the Alas poor Yorick pose) She nearly fell over when she saw Mr. Sato gawking. "What the heck is going-Oh, nonono!" When then the baby noticed him and she immediately run up to Ken and picked him up much to his protest.
While this was going on R/n used this as her attempt to escape to the elevator only for Ken to notice her sneaking away and changed into Ultraman and block her path with his hand... R/n gasped as she looked up at the silver giant completely flabbergasted. "Okay, So not a serial killer." Now it was Ultraman's turn to be confused. "What?"
Cut to R/n trapped in her own containment chamber sitting down bored as she watches a frustrated Mr. Sato pacing around his base. "Y'know, You'll go bald if you keep tugging at your hair like that" she said with a sigh the baseball player ignored her as the delivery girl tried to readjusted herself in a more comfortable position but the tube was to narrow for her legs to properly stretch out. "Couldn't you have given me a bigger tube? this one's too cramped." Mr. Sato shot her a seething glare that shut R/n up as he walked up to her tube.
"Oh, I'm sorry, maybe you should've called ahead before breaking into my house!" He sneered The delivery just rolled her eyes. "For that last time, I didn't break in I found you outside..." Ken snorted obviously not believing her. "Hey you, floating eye lady" R/n called out to Mina who floated over to them. "Doesn't this place have cameras or something" Show this knuckle head I'm telling the truth." She said crossing her arms, while Ken barked a Mina not to listen her and wait for the cops, who were taking their sweet time getting here.
"The police are not coming because I haven't called them." Ken looked at the orb in disbelief. "What? why not?!" Mina played the footage from a few hours ago showing Ken staggering up his front steps and then dropping like a sack of potatoes 15 minutes later R/n's van pulled up showed her jumping and quickly checking Ken over before picking him carrying him inside, and showed how she got into his base.
"Told ya, if this is the thanks I get for helping; then maybe I should've left you there for the birds to crap on!"
"Okay, okay... but that still doesn't mean you're off the hook."
"Oh? what are you gonna do? keep me in this tube forever?"
"No, You going to help me...With her."
Mr. Sato points at the baby Kaiju in the tube next to R/n's who babble happily and waved when he pointed at her, R/n meanwhile got this shell shocked look on her face, she thought he was joking until R/n was free from the tube; but by the next morning found herself in a moving van with her belongs hastily stuffed inside headed back towards Mr. Sato's house.
{Bonus, how R/n ended up playing with Emi: 
R/n tried to back away from the pink dragon thing that was staring her down when it took a step near her, She gasped and instinctively covered her face...But, nothing happened? The delivery girl curiously peeked between her fingers and saw Pinky was staring at her; she put her hands down.
The monster moves again R/n throws her hands back up and the monster did the oddest thing it smiled while chirping and clapping at her. R/n was very obviously bewildered by it's strange behavior as she repeated same action a few times before something clicked in her head; Peek-a-Boo.... It's thinks R/n was playing Peek-a-boo with it . "You're just a baby, aren't you?" The Kaiju tilted it's head at R/n bemused.
*Ken Sato has a baby Kaiju in his basement...what the crap?!*
The delivery girl screamed mentally as the baby Kaju chirped and covered it's face with it's hands; R/n knew what it was doing and played along "Oh no, where'd the baby go?" The delivery girl pretended to look around while side eyeing the elevator which the baby was currently blocking, The kaiju pulled it's hands away from it's face as R/n cheered "Oop, there you are!~" the baby squealed excitedly as this floating eye-ball robot suddenly appeared and started asking questions.
R/n explained herself and promised that she wouldn't tell anyone about this if the eye would let her leave. However, as soon as R/n took a step towards the elevator... The baby started sniffling and tearing up causing the delivery girl to panic. "No, no, I'm not leaving I'm not leaving, I promise, I'll stay here!" R/n said petting it on the leg and not realizing just how true those words would end up being in a few hours.
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Cross posted on my A03/Squidgeworld/Wattpad.
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sunasbon · 2 months
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you had planned this date for months expecting gojo to show up and make it special, but he was no where to be found. it was the second time he's bailed on you this week promising to take you on a proper date but failed again. was he toying with your heart? stringing your feelings along like a mere joke?. you felt confused as you sat there gawking at the luxurious atmosphere of the restaurant, you've begged gojo to take you to this since forever. the tables were all set with fine china the elegant chandelier hanging over the numerous of them, the crystal tear drops glimmered beautifully catching the light just right. dimly lit candles creating a warm cozy glow. the sound of wine glasses clicking together around you, all the couples enjoying their time. was these last few months of preparations all for nothing?
over thirty minutes passed by waiting for him to show, you felt a mixture of emotions rushing through doubt and frustration bubbling up inside of you threatening to spill over. your swiped your finger across the illuminated screen, a text notification bubble popping up at the top it was from gojo the fucking audacity of to text you at this hour? especially, being ditched twice in the same month.
"hey. . . im so sorry for running late , and I have something tell you be there in five m'kay?
*read 9 : 01 pm*
"fine. . you got five minutes or im leaving, gojo. . . '
*sent 9 : 0 2 pm*
*gojo read 9: 0 4 pm*
" im here."
exactly five minutes went had passed and you caught a glimpse of that familiar snowy white hair and tall slender figure strutting towards you in the restaurant. gojo was dressed in a slim-suit jacket that was matched with a striped tie slight undo hanging on by a thread. the white button down crinkled with the seems, the slight rip in between the fabrics wrinkled and messy. you noticed that he looked a bit roughed up, almost like he'd gotten into a dispute. his snowy hair was disheveled the strands of hair sticking to his forehead like glue as he scooted into the booth on the opposite side of you. was that lipstick on his neck in form of a kiss mark?
"-- look . . I know I've been late, but im here . . now. "
"gojo , . . . it took you almost two hours.. to get here. no phone call or anything..?!.'
" I know, I' ve messed up . . . but . . I also have a small confession."
. . . . 'what is it. . . ?'
". . . im sorry, . . I've been seeing someone else for the last few months.'
your world felt like it was suddenly coming crashing down as the realization hits you in the gut, a pang of uneasy washing over you in a instant. you sat frozen in the booth, heart ached and it felt like the entire world shattering all at once. you could believe to be betrayed by your significant other, torn apart, humiliated by infidelity. was this true his plan all along?...
you just were to blind by love to see it . . .
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a/n : was feeling angsttyyy 🥹it’s 2 am (not proof readed) there’s not part two.
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mrskokushibo · 3 months
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Forgiveness
Kokushibo x fem!reader
Sequel to Beg!
Warnings: Sex, Smut, MDNI, NSFW, 18+
Summary: You were dealt penance for you have sinned. Now, Kokushibo offers you his mercy: aftercare, sleep, food, and a relaxing, hot bath. But is this really all you need? This is part 2 of BEG !
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Masterlist
You were tucked away in bed, your body still aching from the events of last night. With eyes slowly opening, still dimmed after a deep sleep, gradually adjusting to the candle-lit room, you could barely make out what was in front of you, but after a few moments, the sight stirred your insides... Because in your clear line of sight was your lover.
Kokushibo was seated on his favourite armchair in the corner of the room next to the large futon you both shared. The chair was a big, European-style, heavily adorned piece, big enough for two, he jokingly called it his throne. And it might just as well have been exactly that, the countless times you were kneeling in front of him, worshipping his manhood.
He was lounging leisurely, wearing only a thin purple yukata that showed off more than it covered, making him look …. delicious to your starved senses. His muscular legs spread, chest partly bared, and his hair down. As always on his days off, he was reading, and he absolutely loved to immerse himself in a captivating story. Six eyes fixated on the text; he kept on sipping a dark red liquid out of a crystal glass. Wine, you presumed. He was a bit of a wine snob.
You loved his chamber, dark walls with tapestries, soft Persian rugs covering the tatami, chandeliers, and bookshelves, rows, and rows of bookshelves. Decorative cushions, soft down-filled quilts, and velvet blankets were all over the large bed.
The quiet sounds of you waking up must have registered with his heightened senses because he lifted his eyes to meet yours. Slowly putting down his book while still holding on to the glass, he leaned back in the armchair. His gaze studying you, lips twitching with the quickest and faintest of smiles. It looked like it was a struggle for him to remain serious. He took a sip of the wine and finally spoke.
‘You slept for a very long time. I assume you must be hungry.’
You nodded slowly in reply. He must have used the telepathic communication to call on a servant as within minutes one of them entered the chamber carrying a tray. With a nod of his head, Kokushibo pointed her in your direction. The servant put the tray on the bedside table while helping you sit down against the large pillows. You were sore… The tray had small fold-out legs that made it into a tray table perfect for eating in bed.  
While you were eating, he concentrated back on his reading and wine. Every now and then you were glancing his way, admiring the noble profile of his face. Oh, you were so horny. Despite the violent punishment you suffered last night, without reaching an orgasm of your own, your insides were almost literally on fire, wetness making you rub your thighs involuntarily. There was not much for you to resort to, but remain in this state until he allowed you near him again.
Once you were done with your meal, you put the tray aside and adjusted yourself down on the pillows. This action caught his attention.
‘I think a bath will do you good, don’t you think?’.
You nodded again, sheepishly. On the way to the bathroom, he walked past you and around the bed, still carrying his wine glass. He was so tall and fit; you were close to drooling. Very soon the sound of water pouring out of a tap was reaching the chamber. It always took ages to fill that tub as it was almost the size of a small pool. The sound of water was soothing and made you drift off into a short nap. Finally, the pouring of water stopped and a moment later you were woken up by Koku standing next to you.
‘Hmmm, you know, I am afraid you will have trouble walking for a day or two’.
His voice deep and soft now, was it compassion you could sense? With that, he buried his arms in the soft mattress under you and lifted you off the bed as if you weighed nothing. You rested your head on his chest and into his thick mane. This was heaven, you could stay like this forever.
Well in the bathroom, he placed you seated on the edge of the tub and gently helped you remove your yukata. You were too aroused and your thoughts too scattered to even register what was happening. Right now, you were trying to take in what he has prepared for you in the bathroom.
The whole place was lit with chandeliers, the smell of precious oils permeating the air and there was a large pillow next to where you were meant to rest your head on the side of the bathtub. Once again, he lifted you up and placed you in the warm, fragrant water, gently placing your head on the pillow. The sensation of the warmth engulfing every crevice of your body, refocused you on the needy feeling between your legs.
‘Make sure to relax now. I put some oils in the water that will help you regenerate faster.’
He was just about to leave when you decided you had enough of waiting. You reached out and grabbed his forearm and looked into the six eyes pleadingly.
‘Can you stay with me?’
He tilted his head slightly and scrunched his lips in a playful grin.
‘Are you sure you can handle, hmmm, sex when you are this battered?’
Your eyes widened at the shameless mention of what he knew was on your mind…
‘Yes, I am sure’ you whispered; your voice almost breaking.
Without taking his eyes off you, he slid out of his barely covering clothes and stepped into the tub. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arm behind your neck until your head rested on his large biceps. With his free hand, he started tracing your neck, up to your jawline, your ears, your eyes now closed in pleasure, then your cheek and the line of your brows. His delicate actions were sending small electric shocks of pleasure.
Your hand drifted towards his groin, his cock hard and large, you started stroking it gently moving on to grabbing hold of it and pumping up and down the entire length. His girth was huge and your small hand could not grab hold of it fully, so you were pumping in a snaking movement, trying to touch every part of his now twitching cock.
The action made him release a quiet sigh and lean over you and kiss your lips gently. He slowly but decisively pried your mouth open with his hungry tongue and the two of you entwined in a wet, passionate kiss, tongues caressing each other, that lasted for what felt like an eternity, his long fingers continuing to touch your face and hair.
Eventually, his hand started moving down your neck and onto one of your breasts. His large hand cupped the soft mound and started kneading it and thus sending even more pleasure impulses down to your sex. Suddenly, he pinched your nipple and persisted with this until you started arching your body as the wave of intense arousal and pleasure was hitting you senseless. It was lucky you were in water, because you were sopping wet. Your juices were literally running out of you now as you were slowly losing all control of yourself. You were moaning like a whore and your hand on his cock was gripping tighter for every wave of pleasure he was gifting you.
‘I want you inside me’ you moaned.
Without a word he lifted you off where you were sitting and placed you in his lap, his cock sliding in you causing you to cling on to him tight. He grabbed you under your ass cheeks and started bouncing you on him. The position was making his cock rub its whole length against your g-spot and you were slowly but surely becoming your arousal, your walls clamping around him and your pussy squirting all over the thick member. His tempo was steady and consistent and after a few minutes of this, you reached an orgasm so intense that your scream could be heard well outside of Kokushibo’s chamber.
When you collapsed onto him, he kept on going until his own release filled you up with his warm semen. The two of you stayed in this passionate embrace for a while, exchanging soft caresses and an occasional kiss. After a while, he pulled his head away from you and looking you straight in the eye and with a mischievous smile, said:
‘I hope you feel better now, my love.’
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Divider by @cafekitsune
Tagging: @doumadono @cursetopia2 @crescentmoontsuki @muzansfangs @horror4themasses
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I don't believe it. I just found that one of my favorite houses hasn't sold. Look at how long the grass got, I guess the owners gave up. It's a yellow brick 1889 Victorian in Milwaukee, WI w/3bds, 3ba, $494,900.
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Beautiful architecture, the front porch makes a stunning impression, especially with the original light fixture and double doors.
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Isn't this beautiful?
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The doors open to an entrance hall with an original staircase and railings.
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To the right there's a sitting room with pocket doors on both walls, a pretty center fireplace, and gorgeous floors.
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There are probably renters in it now, so can you imagine this as a beautifully decorated sitting room? Look at the original light fixtures.
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The 2nd sitting room is a beauty. It has high ceilings, gorgeous moldings, a brick fireplace and the same lovely flooring.
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Look at this high-ceiling center room. The fireplace and chimney go up to the ceiling, and there are windows to the room upstairs. Plus, pocket doors.
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Also, look at the chandelier and windows on the outer wall. It's such an unusual home.
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Then, it has a lovely dining room. The floors and all the pocket doors are incredible. Usually, you see 1 or 2 remaining pocket doors in these homes.
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The vintage kitchen is so cute. Look at how they incorporated the ovens into a piece of industrial salvage. That's very clever. I love how they used antique industrial pieces rather than new cabinets.
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The kitchen has a door to the garden. I wonder if the butler conveys. Interesting shutters on the window. You could probably fit a small everyday table in this area, too.
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Look at this- they made a cabinet for the sink in the half bath and it even has pocket doors.
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This is cool. They have a nice ceiling and an industrial light casually draped over the toilet.
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The kitchen door leads down to the garden that has a brick patio. Very nice privacy fence surrounds the property.
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This is lovely.
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I wish they would've shown more of the interior, b/c this is a huge house.
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It's in a residential neighborhood on a 4,791 sq ft lot.
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3402-W-Saint-Paul-Ave-Milwaukee-WI-53208/40470662_zpid/
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winterzsurprise · 8 days
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Change My Mind [2]
Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.
Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but what you can't do is accept the fact that they're your soulmates.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory
Words: 8.6k
I posted this a day later than the one on ao3 because I forgor :''DD
Seeing the support and comments from both website got me off my ass to fix the storyline, even made a lot of changes on the chapters I've had preserved.
this chapter got rewritten a LOT, and was longer than it initially was so I hope y'all don't mind long chapters.
[1] [2] [3] ...
__________
There's been times where your heart has truly fluttered for a man throughout your lifetime. Too many times has it been because some of your bosses (read: Jimin) flirted with you but you have never felt anything remotely giddy for anyone else outside the group.
Except for the man now sitting in front of you, flashing you a dimpled smile after handing out his card with an ease you only see in your friends and male leads in dramas. An action more attractive than any kabaedon or flexed muscles.
He's attractive but you don't like like him.
Yoo Guwon came to you as a bashful giant, rubbing the back of his head whenever he’s flustered and a constant sheepish smile featuring his deep set of dimples indented on both cheeks. He’s charming and articulate with his words just like a lawyer would be. Everything about him reminds you of another gentle and clumsy giant probably hunched over his music equipment back in the BigHit building.
It’s only been a few hours but you surprisingly covered most of the basic grounds of first meeting conversations during the short time you drove around Han River in a two seated bicycle. From the meager questions of ‘what dreams do you have?’ to the more complex and deeper ‘If the world falls into ruin, will you burn my body when I die?’. 
Too graphic for a first date but you wanted to test the waters and you concluded that he’s too perfect.
He knows the right words to say, the proper way to act and it makes you suspicious. Your mother has never recommended you to a good guy before, having a track record of ten shitty suitors who all ran their mouths about their mediocre achievements, and dared to ask you about your purity before ranting about how dirty you are for not saving yourself for your husband the moment they find out you're not a virgin anymore. Then all of a sudden, she led you to good boy Guwon.
And it makes your skin crawl.
What did that woman eat? Has your father fed her something bad this time? What is she planning? It’s scary how she has finally advocated for an actual nice guy.
After taking you to a museum you're sure Namjoon has visited once, he drove you both to the Han River to rent a double seated bike to drive around with before ending the night with a nice reservation somewhere in the Seocho district.
The place is as sophisticated as fine dining areas usually are. With an intimate lighting, marbled tabletops matched with soft cushioned seats and high ceilings to make space for modern glass chandeliers, the restaurant was no doubt expensive, the type you have to reserve a spot two months prior to be able to experience its greatness. The point was driven home when you saw the amount of zeros it cost for one can of soda. 
You asked him how he managed to get a table and he went down the rabbit hole of the many advantages he got from successful cases, ranging from a free monthly subscription to fruit baskets to a free week-long voucher to a five star hotel somewhere in Busan. 
Going back to the butterflies, while not as wild as it got when Hoseok possessively wrapped an arm thrown around your waist to pretend as your boyfriend to ward off a persistent suitor, they're there, albeit subtle.
Very subtle.
Maybe it's in the way he didn't think twice to hand out his card towards the waiter in the most suave way with the thick golden watch decorating his wrist, sleeves neatly folded up to reveal the thick cords of veins on his forearms with his hair strewn messily and a dimpled smile that made you react like that.
You ignore the voice comparing his uncannily similar traits to someone else.
Meeting Guwon wasn't like how the movies illustrated love at first sights. They talked of fireworks exploding in the background and hearing the sweet chimes of wedding bells upon eye contact but for him, it's just that. A meeting far more formal than you'd like. He has a lot of qualities that check your list of husband material traits yet instead of butterflies, you could only feel an echoing hollowness in your chest as you listen to him list out his future plans. 
It felt like surrendering to the fate the divinities had weaved out for you which is being an untethered forced to love someone you don't even feel any spark with.
He's a nice man who’s offering a comfortable future and you're just a woman who wishes to live a lavish life at home while your husband wastes his years away in the office. You might be a hopeless romantic who wished for soulmates and the like but you're not blind to the opportunity Guwon offers you.
You haven't texted the gc anything during the date other than the selfie you took before you left for the date but there's been constant vibrations in your purse and it's no doubt the guys asking for updates but for a moment you wanted to try to focus on the man before you.
Not that it wasn't hard to try with Guwon anyways.
Whenever the man spoke of his achievements and hobbies with a humble approach, he never forgot to ask you for your opinion or input on the topic. You also noted how he has never cut you off and let you speak whenever you wanted, listening with an eagerness only your friends usually show. He asked relevant questions with a genuine curiosity, eager to know more about you. 
So when he asked if you wanted to go on a second date that night, it came to no surprise for anyone when you accepted it albeit the heaviness in your heart.
It was funny how eagerly you searched for a husband you could bring to your parents' doorsteps but the moment someone with all the qualities you seeked came, it felt disappointing. Boring even.
But you can learn, this man is your ticket to living without working anymore.
It came to no one's surprise that your mother was overjoyed, she wasted no time calling you before you could even change to squeeze the memory of today out of you.
The shrill scream of victory she let out that night was unforgettable because finally, a suitor you actually liked. Your dad even congratulated her off-screen for her matchmaking achievements before telling you to bring Guwon home to meet them.
Logically, you’re aware you've won the love roulette—Guwon has it all, he checked every box on your list, yet it felt like defeat and it tasted foul, bitter on your tongue.
You couldn't tell them that it was you deciding to settle, that would break her heart.
Tapping the end call button felt like the dam breaking and all the water held onto for so long flowed out. You fall lifelessly on your bed with a heavy sigh. Taking a couple evening breaths, you finally opened the group chat with an overwhelming number of unread messages.
[Today, 08:49]
[08:49] Mimi: I'd run my bank dry to take you on dates if you'd dress so pretty like that, noona~
[08:49]Tete: We're really seeing this for free when the poor guy has to pay for it. #livingapriviledgedlife😁👍
[08:49] Hobi: Wow noona🤯
[08:50] Yoongs: 👍
[08:55] Tete: Wait, I don't think those shoes fit you, go back home and change it😁
[08:56] Jinnie: Hey, you're showing too much skin on the first date! Go back and change!
[08:57] Joonie: Ignore these haters noona, I hope you enjoy your day😊
[Today, 21:48]
[21:48] Jinnie: are you home yet? You haven't seen our messages in HOURS.
[21:48] Tete: NOONA DID YOU GET MURDERED?!😱
[21:50] Joonie: Let's be rational guys, don't jump to conclusions. The date might just be going great if she's busy enough to not check her phone😊.
[21:51] Mimi: doing great? don't scare me like that hyung😵‍💫
[21:51] Tete: BUT WHAT IF SHE GOT KIDNAPPED HYUNG????
[21:51] Hobi: please reply soon, we're worried🥲
Jungkook's absence from the conversation didn't come to you as a shock, the kid doesn't even reply to you for a week despite being one of the people who raised him. Nonetheless, you sat up from your bed to record a quick video of you giving them a thumbs up and turning the camera to show your room.
The latter was an assurance to Taehyung that no, you also didn't get kidnapped into someone else's house to be someone's housekeeper, and no, it wasn't a clone either.
The moment your message gets sent, the replies blow up your phone almost instantaneously.
[22:28] Mimi: noona you're alive!
[22:28] Joonie: How did the date go?😊
[22:28] Jinnie: how nice of you to remember to update us PEASANTS.
[22:28] Mimi: How was Guwon?
[22:29] Tete: I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE WENT WITH YOU ANYWAYS
[22:29] You: Shockingly, he's a pretty nice guy. Not too bad on the eyes, and pretty smart. I think you'd get along well with him, joon. He's a lawyer so he covered most of the expenses today😁
[22:29] You: Overall, it was great, we're gonna go on a second one. He's pretty cool.
Instantly, messages from the members, even Jungkook’s to your surprise, flooded your screen.
[22:30] Tete: Noona you've been cursed! We need to bring you to the nearest shaman to break it!!
[22:30] Mimi: don't joke with us noona
[22:30] Mimi: I just got goosebumps!
[22:30] Joonie: Congratulations are in order then? Will we be expecting him around you soon?
[22:31] Yoongs: I need to meet him, need to know if he's good enough
[22:31] Yoongs: men are trash, I need to see him for myself before I decide
[22:32] Yoongs: and you know what they say about lawyers, they LIE. I wouldn't trust him 
[22:32] Jinnie: WE need to meet the man who managed to steal your heart! I want to talk to him😊
[22:32] Mimi: don't use that emoji again, hyung
[22:32] Hobi: SCARY JWANN😱
[22:32] Joonie: Let’s not threaten anyone please.
[22:32] Joonie: But I'm really happy for you 😁.
[22:33] Tete: Those periods really scares me hyung…
[22:33] Tete: Somehow, I don't think you mean it…
[22:33] Joonie: What makes you think that, tae?😁.
[22:33] Tete: 😰
[22:34] Ggukie: a few drinks will fix you up, noona😁
[22:34]  Mimi: you'll invite me this time right?
[22:34] You: I don't know, you already used your mischief hours this week, I doubt Sejin would be so kind next time.
[22:34] Hobi: if he does that right now during practice, I also wouldn't be so kind to him😊
[22:34] Mimi: you are scaring me hyung…
[22:34] Hobi: good😊
[22:34] Tete: Hyung, are you just gonna ignore Jungkook leaving?!?!!?
The messages continued for a good five minutes, mostly consisting of holding Jimin back from leaving practice and him sending pictures of the infamous Hoseok death glare from across the room before your doorbell chime rang, making you shoot up straight.
A beat. Then it continues in three quick successions, the knocks almost in sing-song and sounded like two hands were used to produce the tune, giving you an inkling on who might be visiting you at this late hours of night.
Padding out of your room, the front door suddenly swings open without warning and you yelp. By the doorsteps stands the intruder, a tall man in a black coat with his face hidden by a mask and a cap. Your body would've frozen a thousand times over if you didn't know this stranger who's hugging two paper bags, one overflowing with snacks and the other a breeze away from tearing apart from the weight and water drenching the material of the bag.
"Hi noona!"
After today, seeing Jungkook felt like a cure, his presence alone repelling the heaviness in your shoulders and you ushered him inside and he wandered into your home with ease, approaching the coffee table to place down the shopping bags. 
Suddenly you remembered what he had scheduled prior.
"You're putting me on Hoba’s punishment rotation, what are you doing here?" 
He giggled. “We both know he won't, hyung loves you more than me.”
He falls on your couch with the ease of someone who has visited your space numerous times throughout the years, propping up his feet on the back support and folding his arms underneath his head before staring up at you, expectantly.
"Anyways, I brought us food and drinks, don't I deserve a little praise?" 
Sometimes it's easy to forget how young Jungkook really is, forced to grow and act mature to blend in with his surroundings, you've always seen him stand with pride alongside his hyungs. Seeing him awaiting for your praise so eagerly like a pup fills your heart with awe.
"Yeah yeah, good job. Now move over, let me sit down."
You tapped his arm, motioning him to move over so you could sit next to him, something he obeyed without resistance, busying himself in removing the contents from the soiled paper bag instead.
“Couldn't you have put some effort into it? At least sound grateful.” He pouts. Placing down the cluster of beer cans, you turned to him and pinched his cheeks.
“Oh my dearest darling, thank you for saving this noona of yours. Such an amazing baby I have here.”
Despite being the one who asked for it, Jungkook only rolled his eyes with a barely held back grin as he slapped your hands away, making you laugh, and turned to the bag holding the snacks he bought. You didn't miss the redness dusting his cheeks or the cheeky grin that tugged his lips wide as he spilled the contents of the last bag onto the table.
There's a significant amount of sweets and snacks laid before you, as well as stacks of canned beers and you turned to him with furrowed brows.
"Wouldn't this ruin your diet?"
He waved you off with a huff. "I work out enough to eat all of these in one sitting."
Instantly, your mind brings you back to white walls and gray furniture, faced with manager Sejin who warned you about interfering with the idols' diet at the start of your career. If it wasn't for Bang PD waving off their concerns, saying they needed to be rewarded for their hard work anyways, you would've been long booted out of the company.
It's a matter long settled yet it remains to weigh heavily in your head.
Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, Jungkook continues.
"I can show you proof of my efforts," 
He then reached down to the fabric of his shirt tucked into his jeans and tugged it up, flashing you the tightly corded muscles in forming on his abdomen and the thin happy trail you often see when patting his sweat down during concerts and you hastily pulled it back down with a yelp, cheeks growing hot while he laughed.
As he throws his head back in his mirth, you couldn't help but notice the way adulthood has taken away the fullness of his cheeks and has sharpened his features. A far cry from the sensitive young boy who cried his eyes out every time his hyungs got hurt. 
There was no denying that Jungkook had grown without you noticing and it makes your chest swell with pride knowing he's been raised well by the others, in extension, although not so much, you as well.
"Don't worry so much about me, noona. I can handle the consequences now, you leave the reprimanding to me."
Under the warm overhead light of your living room, even with the exaggerated puff of his chest and his nose turnt up high, Jungkook's shoulder had never looked sturdier, reliable, in your eyes. You smiled, reaching to pinch both his cheeks making him grin wider than he already was.
"Look at you acting so cool, when did you grow so much?"
He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands away from his cheeks and entangling it with his. “I've always been cool, you just don't pay attention to me, noona.”
Before you could reply, he's already moved to reach for the beverages on the coffee table, popping two of them open and handing you one can, immediately you take a swig.
The beer fizzled in your tongue and left a trail of burns down your throat. The sensation is refreshing nonetheless and you place it down next to him before picking up the large bags of chips and standing up.
"I'll go put these in a bowl, go put something on the tv."
"Can I play anime?"
You waved at him dismissively, unable to find it in yourself to say no to him as you head towards your kitchen to transfer the junk into a bowl when a shrill tune from your bedroom cuts through the air, someone was calling you. You look over to Jungkook, scrolling through his phone, no doubt looking for a movie online.
"Gguk, can you pick up the call for me? My hands are busy right now."
There's a shuffle of feet behind you and in a moment, your phone quietens down. Finished with filling one bowl, you turn to find Jungkook leaving your room with a deep look and your phone in hand. His jaw set tight as he stood there with furrowed brows, eyes lit with irritation.
Looking at his reaction, you asked about your mysterious caller.
"Who was it?"
When he turned to you, the tick in his jaw dispersed. All of a sudden, he's smiling at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes, the change giving you a whiplash.
"It was the others, didn’t answer their calls cause I want you for myself tonight, noona."
(Later on, you'd find yourself staring at the many unread messages and two missed calls from Guwon, wondering in your drunken state if you've muted your phone at some point earlier.)
Hearing it from his lips now, your body locks, heart stuttering in your chest and butterflies exploding in your stomach, spreading a tingly feeling throughout your body and you laugh. 
"Where did you hear that line from, brat? You just activated my fight or flight!"
"Taehyung says that and gets thanked but when I do it, I'm punished?" He pouts, stomping as he approaches the island counters and crossing his arms on the marble surface.
It reminded you of a bunny you saw from a video on the internet, angrily thumping their feet at their owner when it was being purposely ignored.
“In his defense, he does it while he’s acting like my crazy ‘exes’ and saves me from dates.”
“That’s just favoritism! I saved you once from a date!”
You threw him a deadpan stare. "Throwing me over your shoulders and kidnapping me isn’t the same as Tae and Jimin acting crazy enough to make the other guy uncomfortable to save me.”
Hoseok had your favorite troublemakers kneeled on the floor with both their hands up and facing the wall at the time, punishing them for being an hour late to their practice. He had called you in, asking if they had been accompanying you during —they weren’t. 
Long story short, you didn't risk sharing Hoseok’s wrath with the two and took Jungkook instead, a decision you quickly regretted later on in the night when instead of approaching to act like one of your exes when you gave him a signal, he hoisted you up onto his shoulder and ran away while your date only watched in terror.
“Now that’s blatant favoritism! I didn’t kidnap you, we ran away together into the sunset! It was romantic!"
"Not for the other guy, no! He was shitting bricks when he called my mom. She got me squatting the entire afternoon when we met again."
Mentioning it alone made phantom pains throb in your knees and thighs, you shivered. If torture wasn't a socially unacceptable and punishable offense in the modern world, you were sure your mother would have stripped you down to your underwear and made you squat under the sun in front of your family house instead. 
The absolute fury she unleashed on you that day is enough proof that she would've done it with no hesitation if it was lawfully appropriate.
"That's too much for a failed date."
"No reason to dwell on it. Main point is, don't take notes from dramas anymore."
With a last roll of his eye, Jungkook then picked up the bowls and brought them to the coffee table following you who had returned to your seat ahead of him. Once the two of you are situated back on the couch, he navigates through the streaming app for an interesting title before eventually settling on the romance anime he claimed to have heard amazing reviews about.
Without hesitation, Jungkook navigates himself into a familiar between your legs and leaned back on your chest, head finding his rightful space under your chin with a precision gained from doing so for years.
It goes without saying that Bangtan is affectionate. With the pressure they had during their rise to fame, it wasn't shocking that they comfortably seeked each other's comfort and spared no skinship. As one of the only staff within constant exposure that's close to their age, you too became one of their pillars of serenity. 
It was the reason you had crushes on everyone at least twice during your time as their make-up artist, not that any of the boys knew nor does it matter.
Stability and work takes precedence over something as shaky as love.
There's only so much comfort another man can offer, your mother says from years before.
Jungkook more than anyone else in the group. 
As a boy who sacrificed his childhood and time with his parents to pursue his dream, you felt more inclined to watch over him than the others who were adults by the time you joined. You were there for his first heartbreak, his first drink, his high school graduation; the point is, you were there and you held him every time he struggled with problems—mostly girl problems—he's too shy to seek his hyungs for.
But now with his growth spurt, cuddling up to you like he used to when he was younger with his gangly legs awkwardly hanging from the couch, carelessly leaning his head in between the mounds of your breast while his large hand mindlessly drew circles on your knee, you found yourself wondering about the appropriateness of it all.
A man and a woman alone in a room at night in close proximity, body leaning against each other. Society would argue they wouldn’t end the night as friends anymore after the encounter.
You paused mid-drink and grimaced.
It must be the beer talking.
"Noona."
"Yeah?"
"Wrap your arms around me, it's cold."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not though? I always keep my house warm." 
He let out an exasperated groan before reaching behind to grab your arm and roughly slinging it on his shoulders.
As time continued its cycle and episodes started to fly across the screen, the pile of opened beer cans on the table expanded. You really tried to focus on the movie but the feeling of his fingers tracing stars on your bare thigh left you oddly bothered. Jungkook has shifted his position higher at some point during the movie, his body now turned sideways, successfully squeezing himself into the small space between you and the back of the couch, legs entangling itself with yours while an arm is thrown across your body.
This position puts his nose closer to your ears and it makes you shiver. The feel of his hot breath fanning across your skin has given you more goosebumps in under an hour more than you've had throughout your life.
Even drunk, you could feel the building tension thickening around you and the will to tell him to off ebbs away with every caress of his fingers.
Gone were the innocent traces of stars and hearts on your thigh, his hand now grabbed onto your waist almost possessively, thumb rolling slow circles on your bare stomach; the motion conjuring the most unholiest of thoughts known to mankind.
When the credits started rolling, you knew you had to draw the line before you lost yourself to intoxicated thoughts and end the night with regrets.
"Time for you to go home now, your hyungs must be looking for you."
You tried prying his hand from your waist so you could reach for your phone on the table only for him to tighten around you, stopping you from moving away. He groaned, head nuzzling closer into your neck and his lips grazed your skin. 
Instantly, electric jolts shoot through your body.
"Jungkook, I need to get my phone and tell someone to fetch you from here."
"Can't I just stay the night? I'm too comfortable right now…"
The gruff in his voice and the sensation of his lips moving on your skin has your stomach fluttering and you're too drunk to address the growing heat in your abdomen but thanked the sense of professionalism seeping through the fogs of your intoxicated mind.
Managing to pry him off, you reached for your phone and opened up SMS to tell Jin to pick their youngest up.
           [01:21] You: Jwannn
           [01:21] You: can you pick up your kid from my house? He's drunk and stinkyyy
           [01:23] Jinnie: your knight in shining armor is on the way!
“Just let me stay the nighttt,” he whined into your skin.
"I don't have any more spare beds other than this couch for you to sleep in, Gguk. I turned the other room into a closet, remember?"
"I can just sleep with you on the bed, we used to do that, didn't we?"
He attempted to reach around you again but you pushed his limbs away once more before slapping his arm.
You tried not noticing how thicker and harder the muscles felt, you really did. 
"But it's different now, Gguk. Come on, go wash up and drink water, I've already told someo—"
The moment you rose to stand, his arms shot around your waist in record speed and pulled you flush to his front, nuzzling his nose on the back of your neck before he sighed. When the first hot exhale hits your skin, you flinch away but the limbs wounded tightly around your middle restrict you from moving.
You try to ignore the heat simmering under your skin but it was hard when you felt the press of his plush lips on your nape as he leans closer into your skin. 
“You always smell so nice, noona.” He whispered breathily, the sensation of his moving mouth sending shivers down your spine and you shivered.
“I-I can give you my lotion brand later, let me go so I can get it.”
“But I'm comfortable here…”
Mustering every strength left in your body, you manage to pull an arm out of the death grip he had on your body and slapped his hand. Jungkook easily ignores it.
“Come on Gguk, let me out now. This isn't appropriate.”
"How is it different now?"
The alcohol intoxicating your system loosened your grip on your inhibitions and your lips regrettably moved faster than your brain.
"You're a man now, Gguk. Honestly, we shouldn't be even doing this right now. It's inappropriate."
You try to stand once more, managing to pry him from your waist and standing up before his arms hooked around you once more and tugging you back down, this time on his lap as he burrows his head onto your back.
"Gguk?"
"Yo-you see me as a man, noona?"
As a child your mother has taught you how words could heavily influence and drastically change a situation, now as an adult, you've mastered the art of speech. But as you sit still on his thighs, body warm and inhibitions blurred by the alcohol, your loose lips have led you back to the very thing you try to avoid.
"It's hard not to think so when you've grown up this much."
In a flash, Jungkook is now hovering over your face as he places you back down on the couch, his nose a hair's width from touching yours and his hands planted on each side of your head. 
There's a feral hunger swimming in his eyes as it stared into yours, desperate and intense before it fell to the plush of your parted lips and his gaze darkens. All of a sudden, you're a prey pinned down by an apex predator who's ready to devour you at any given moment.
Fire alarms blared in your mind and you regained control over your senses.
“Jungkook.”
"Noona."
You tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use, he's stronger. "Get off of me, kid."
“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a kid anymore?”
“I'm not hearing anything out when you're acting like this, Gguk.”
He scoffed. “I just want to sleep here, in the same bed, nothing else is gonna happen. Why is it such a bad thing?”
“It's different now, Gguk. Come on, let me go.”
“How is it so different? You and Jimin hyung cuddle sometimes, I've seen you fall asleep next to Hobi hyung once, why is it different with me?”
“It's different because we're both drunk and things could happen.”
“I wouldn't mind it.” Jungkook responds with a cheeky smile. His grip on one of your wrist loosened enough that you were able to hit his arm and he giggled in response.
“But I do. It wouldn't be fair.”
Even something as small as letting one member stay at your home without the others can be the loudest announcement for the rest of the group. All those times you've rejected your friends, with reasons like ‘I don’t want to risk everything’, and ‘I don't want to hurt the others’, to turn back around to accept their youngest would be hypocritical of you.
He scoffs. "You tell us about all your stupid dates, don't you think it's more unfair for us?”
A familiar weight grows in your chest. Guilt tasted like rust on your tongue and dug into your heart with a ribbed knife. Your own late night thoughts manifesting before you and you pushed him away.
After everything, you were all friends, you trusted them more than you do with your other circle. There's not a secret left undiscussed between the eight of you so it was no surprise that you had indulged them with the details of your quest for a husband. Nobody ever raised any complaints with you sharing your days so you never thought twice about it.
It's been five years since Jin had confessed, three for Taehyung. Their eldest had confessed for the sake of him finally being able to move on after your rejection and with how he acted after, you had believed him. It was different for Taehyung who had continued to act like normal after his confession, neither dejected nor did he show signs of letting go but he did introduce a date to your group once, a year later, so you had assumed the same.
Were you wrong after all?
“Jungkook, we're drunk. Let’s talk about this tom—”
“I've never been more sober in my life than I am right now, noona.”
You didn't respond, couldn't reply.
What were you supposed to even say?
Jungkook usually obeyed you and his hyungs without hesitation, happily offering his aid whenever he could. He's the type of friend who's run himself dry just to fetch you a cup of water from the other side of the world but now as he hovers over you, he became a whole new person.
Greed has always been an irritating parasite that eats away at a person's morals but somehow in your drunken mind, you thought it looked so good on him. It fits him and his generous character the way one light clothing molds well with the dark fabrics. His familiar scent of vanilla and coconut clouded your senses, calming your panicking mind into a hush, leaving nothing but the thoughts of how his lips tasted and wondering if he’s as sweet as he smelled.
He let out a shaky exhale from through his mouth as he watched your parted lips with a rapt attention as if hypnotized by the way they subtly trembled with every breath that passed through.
In the pregnant silence of your room, his voice cuts through like a knife.
“Can I kiss you?”
He whispers against your lips, voice breaking in the middle from the weight of his request, honeyed and pleading, as if your kiss holds the answer to the problems of the world and holds the power to break him.
His hand travels up to cup your cheek oh so carefully like you're fragile china yet you feel yourself shatter under his touch.
You are losing grasp on your sober thoughts as lust starts to cloud your already compromised judgment, his request far too tempting to ignore.
Maybe a kiss wouldn’t hurt. 
But wouldn’t it be unfair for the others who have expressed their romantic intentions to you since years ago? 
It was a last ditch effort to reason with your mind and your body froze from the cold wave of realization. In the short time after his question, you recall the confessions you turned down to not ruin the relationship Bangtan has established for themselves and the bitter taste it left on your tongue.
“Jungkook… we can’t.”
Watching his expression contort into confused hurt almost made you want to take your words back, but your mind takes you to memories of apologetic and understanding smiles you’ve received throughout the years and the aches from those moments resurfaces, squeezing your heart in a tight grip.
“I-I’m sorry I can’t control my feelings, I just wanted to tell you about it… Thought that maybe after this, I could move on.” An apologetic voice whispers, the memory of premature confessions in the middle of a cleanup resurfacing.
“I can’t—I can’t do it to them, it’d be unfair.”
You pushed him back and he relented, letting himself be sat back onto the other side of the couch defeatedly. Despite it, his tight grip on your waist remained, pulling you flush to him and burying his face in your chest as if trying to hear the lie in your words through the beatings of your heart.
“I’m also seeing Guwon now.”
“Then don’t let me meet him. I-I don’t know if I can take it.”
It was heart wrenching and at the same time, left an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Jungkook never had to beg since you first met him, everything he could ever want was given to him by you and his hyungs without hesitation. Hearing him plead for you to never bring Guwon around if fate had actually paired you both, it was a different kind of pain.
It felt like thorns growing and rooting its stems of pointy ends into the deepest parts of your heart. You hated this, but you don’t want to hurt any of your boys by accepting one.
Relief comes in the form of Taehyung when he busted into your apartment while Jungkook has excused himself to your bathroom to sober up just a moment before. Seokjin trails behind him, calmer than the younger man who declared his arrival with a deep voice and a loud bang of the door. You immediately thought of the elderly couple and the new family of three living next to you and internally facepalmed.
“Noona! We’ve come to take Jungkook away!”
Kim Seokjin’s face has never been more handsome when he closed the door behind him, and you verbalized your thought, leading his ears to glow red in embarrassment.
“Am I only handsome to you when I’m closing the doors?! This face that people fawn over all over the world?!”
“It’s your true calling, door guy.”
“Oh shut it hyung, you’re making my head hurt.” Jungkook mutters as he reentered the living room, looking far better than when he left.
The tension was palpable, the effect of a rejected profession still raw and thick in the small joined space of the living room and kitchen and you caught Jin's eyes as the two youngest bickered, there’s a knowing look passed between you, an unsaid ‘let’s talk later’ hanging in the air.
“Hey, just because you got to escape Hoba’s practice without scratch doesn't mean you're hot shit, show me some respect!”
Seokjin scolds, accompanied by a playful kick to their youngest’s butt. Immediately the stuffy air dissipates and Jungkook responds in kind; by kicking him in the shin, hard enough to launch Seokjin into another lengthy nag.
It was a quick retrieval after his rant. Jungkook lets himself be towed out of your apartment by an oddly enthusiastic Taehyung who's going on about a new game trailer he saw online while Jin has offered to be left behind to clean up the mess. It was no doubt obvious, the familiar awkwardness and tenseness brought by a rejected confession lingered in the air when they arrived, it only took him one look at you and he already knew. 
The moment the door slams shut behind the boys, he immediately began:
“Did he admit it?”
His voice was soft yet it rang loudly in the pindrop silence of your living room. The sigh he let out echoed more when you nodded.
“I told him to not do it, you know? But you know how stubborn he gets.”
You didn’t reply. You simply move, walking to the trash bin to put the empty beer cans in and Jin follows close with the bowls stacked on top of each other to place in the sink. It was a brief moment of reprieve. He let the moment from earlier simmer in your stomach, let the smoke from it fill your lungs and weigh your heart till you burst.
Out of the seven boys, you've always turned to either him or Yoongi as they're older than you, so it came to nobody's shock when you break and told him.
“It just never gets better, I always feel guilty even if I didn’t choose. I’m just lucky I didn’t have to suffer through seven of these, I don’t think I could take it and just quit.”
It was a thought you’ve entertained when Taehyung came to you with his heart in his hand, giving it to you carelessly despite knowing how you’ve handled the other confessions. He was all dopey smiles and flushed cheeks, it continued even when you’ve pushed his heart back to him with an apologetic look.
Seeing the happy creases in his eyes iron out despite the huge boxy smile continuing to play on his lips, the existing pressuring guilt reawakened. Taehyung’s heart that gleamed and glowed gold, vulnerable for you to take and use from where it settled in the middle of his offering palms. You could’ve taken advantage of it all as they were rising in fame, when they were facing discrimination from the other companies and had found comfort in you but you didn’t.
Even with the attraction you've felt for them, you were nothing but a makeup artist to the company. Another asset to deploy and replace if it got annoying to handle. You couldn't risk your career on uncertainties, this is your dream job.
You loved them all equally and held them in the same regards as the others, they’re your best friends, chosen soul companions even without the marks to solidify it. 
They loved you and you loved them all but you wouldn't bet your life on an uncertain future.
“You should give us more credit, you know?” 
He says from the kitchen sink, the sound of water slowing into a halt. Seokjin didn’t move for a while. When he did, it was to place down the plates, washing his hands before turning around to face you.
“We’re grown adults now, we can handle rejection so don’t feel too bad about it. You can choose and we’d even help you keep it a secret from everyone besides us eight.”
It was genuine. Even in the haze of your intoxication, those words felt like a cool balm for your aching heart. While Namjoon’s words were cited research, formal and factual and Yoongi’s were calming droughts to ease the discomfort of sadness brought by gloomy thoughts, Seokjin speaks from the heart, true and unbiased but says it with a gentleness and care. 
Guilt sets like a boulder on your heart. Being able to feel, to experience such a privilege when all you've done is break his heart since your hunt for a husband, the weight in your chest multiplied and tears sprung from your eyes.
You wanted them but you couldn't risk your dream job, couldn't risk a friendship as precious as theirs for kisses and hugs that eventually has its ends.
You didn’t even notice it when he crossed the distance between you both and pulled you plush to his chest but you recognized the familiar sensation of plush lips pressing against your forehead.
If it lingered a few seconds past what's platonically allowed, you didn’t mention it.
Seokjin’s muted scent of freshly baked cakes brought silence to the rampaging waves of thoughts in your mind and if you pressed your nose flush to his chest to bury yourself in his fragrance, he didn’t say anything, bringing one hand behind your head protectively.
“I'm sorry to put you through this pain, Jinnie. I-I didn’t know.”
“I knew you didn’t know but I'll be fine... eventually.” He breathes out before leaning down to bury himself into the nest of your hair. "As long as you're happy, then I am too."
It was heavy, being loved and held so preciously even after you’ve turned him down, it felt cruel, sadistic even. But like the selfish woman you are, you accepted it. Soaked in his affections greedily.
“You know, he asked me to never show Guwon around you guys.”
He sighed. “I knew he would.”
“Do you want that as well?
Silence followed but you heard his answer loud and clear.
The second date happened after the first leg of the tour in Seoul.
Although planned suddenly, you appreciated the downtime after being lost in the haze of rushed outfit changes, reapplying makeup, and patting sweat from foreheads. If anything, you were thankful you could loosen up after earlier. The awkward tension didn’t go amiss, it only took Namjoon and Yoongi one look between you and Jungkook before taking charge on how the night progresses.
Yoongi didn't waste any time waving you over to ask for help for his makeup, even when he was already being prepped by one of your older colleagues, Ji hae. Thankfully, the woman lets you take over, saying she wanted a snack anyways.
The man didn't bother asking you what happened and settled comfortably in his chair but not before offering you the snack he bought earlier and was laying neglected on his lap. Yoongi asked about Guwon in a hushed voice, because while you were living in a reverse harem with most of his brothers, he was genuinely curious about your boyfriend-to-be.
Maybe it was the fact he has never admitted his affections for you that made it comfortable to discuss topics you could never talk about with the others with him, but you let your tongue a little loose.
And he listened.
Yoongi has always been a man of action not words, his love language has always been opening water bottles, blankets appearing from nowhere when you're passed out on their couch, and listening attentively. Despite what the world says about his nonchalance and silence, in your eyes, he's the sweetest guy on the roster—not that you'd tell Jimin that of course, he'd riot if he were to find out.
By the end of the concert, Guwon asks you on an impromptu date. A simple late night walk on a market nearby because there's apparently a food fair, and as usual, the expenses are on him. Hungry with a principle of never turning down free food, of course you accepted. 
Though you had a long time deciding whether to go or not with Jungkook’s confession still fresh.
Minutes later, he's waiting for you by the exit. The scene of him leaning on his Mercedes, waiting for you to reach him at the bottom of the stairs looks like it was pulled out of a kdrama.
Oddly enough, they didn’t question your lack of updates in the group chat but Jimin reached out later on and you suspect he told everyone your whereabouts instead, hopefully minus the date part to spare the others (read: Jungkook) from heartbreak.
The fair looked like a mirage of a paradise in the night hidden away in a small gently-lit up alley. The path was lightened up with gentle lanterns hung above you, the warm colors setting a more intimate scene. It wasn’t as luxurious as dinner from yesterday or as calming as the bike ride around the Han river but you appreciated it nonetheless.
You’re ready to drop dead but you pushed through, you wanted this relationship to work. Because then, maybe the monsters—your mother and her wide selection of personalities as well as aunties, her friends, trying to refer you to their horrible sons—haunting you from under your bed will finally leave you alone.
It was cruel that you’re using someone else to erase the memory of being professed to by one of your best friends.
Guwon was happy enough to take charge the whole date, leading you from food stall after food stall, ordering whatever your eyes lingered at which is half of what the fair offers. He understands your lack of responses as it is, tired from work, and talked enough for the both of you. Which you are grateful for.
He talked about his job and what happened that day, willingly telling you about the story of how he and his co-workers clicked back in College, never to part till now in the field they wanted. He spoke of his dreams, how he envisioned his dream home by the province surrounded by nature and the cat named Nabi waiting for him at home.
There's nothing more blatant of a signal than the last part, whether you accept it or not depends on you.
Normally, you would've frowned at the thought, immediately thinking of running away but as the night deepens and stalls start to close, the idea grows more and more tempting despite the logical voice in your head disagreeing. Seeking a distraction and possibly leading on a kind man is cruel, both to him and you.
But at the end of the day, it’s just an escape from the reality you're stuck in, a temporary answer to a long time problem. 
How harmful can it be? 
People had hookups before, you’ve had hookups before your mother has started a hunt for your husband this year so what are you so reluctant for? 
If this man is to be your husband, you should check your physical compatibility right?
You shivered. God, you sounded like one of those shitty guys you’ve dated before.
"Hey, the stalls just closed. Are you fine with me driving you back to your house?"
His voice cuts through your deep thoughts and you turn to him. Even in the dimly lit corner of the alley, Guwon looked attractive as ever with his dimpled smile and laid back attitude, his soft eyes gleaming under the lanterns, affections overflowing from his gaze and you. shuddered from its weight. 
Staring at the man, you wondered if you'd ever fall in love with him as he seemed right now.
Soon enough, you both arrive in front of your apartment building. However, not every plan goes through as you thought it'd go and you find two familiar figures rushing down to meet you. 
Taehyung didn't hesitate to run up to you with open arms and a wide smile. He didn't even care that you both almost toppled over if it wasn't for Guwon hand supporting you from the back.
"Wh-why are you two here? Shouldn't you guys be resting?"
Jimin shrugged but you caught the mischievous glint in his eyes as a small smile tugs his lips. "Hyung got so worried and wanted us to make sure you got home safely."
"Even a thumbs up would be great but you ignored every text and call! Jin hyung panicked and sent us out, if you didn't come home, he would've had a huge manhunt for you." Taehyung chimed in, pulling away but keeping his hands on your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes, as if trying to hypnotize you into believing them.
Jimin snickered. “Yoongi hyung was an hour away from declaring you missing so the good dongsaengs we are, we decided to camp outside your apartment.”
You would've accepted his explanation, it was logically sound yet the dark glint of mischief and something else in his eyes as his gaze bounced from you to Guwon told you a different story.
They've always had to interrupt your dates when it becomes sour but this was the first time they've confronted a potential partner outside the intentions of ruining a date because you wanted it to suck.
This was them laying their claim over their own, a silent statement. A declaration you try not to think so much about, fearing you'd dig yourself deep and fall to your death.
“These must be one of your kids?” Guwon asks from behind, reminding you of his presence and you turn to him with an apologetic look.
“Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin. I practically raised them.”
Jimin scoffs and your head snapped to him, widening your eyes in warning to which he ignored. “Just because you’re a year older, doesn’t mean you could say you raised us you know?”
“See what I deal with everyday?” 
Guwon laughs lightheartedly before patting your head to get your attention. “Since your kids are here to protect you, I should get going now.”
“Drive safely.”
“See you soon?”
“Definitely.”
Then he placed a haste kiss on the edge of your lips, catching you off guard and you froze. Guwon was already in his car by the time you realized what happened and turned to chastise him. You couldn't even knock on the passenger window when the arms coiled around your shoulders tightened and tugged you close.
Letting Guwon kiss you in front of one of the men who confessed to you once was the first mistake, second was looking up at Taehyung whose hug is starting to hurt.
Gone were the usual giddiness and child-like enthusiasm that would pour from his eyes. It was replaced by a colder glare, almost blank and emotionless as it narrowed behind you and jaw locked tight. There was something primal in the way his hand behind your head was pushing you closer to him as if he was hounding over his game from another predator.
Goosebumps prickled your skin awake.
If butterflies exploded in your stomach and ignited a molten heat in your abdomen at that very moment, it's a secret you’d take to your grave.
“Tae?”
“Noona, I think we should head inside. It's getting cold.” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded forced and you resisted the urge to look at him.
While their reaction to being challenged is obvious, you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why he should feel like that when he’s been seeing other people since his confession. From your past dates where he attended as one of your escape plans, he’s  never expressed such an intense show of displeasure so you thought his fleeting crush had passed.
Until tonight.
When Taehyung pulled away, the traces of his hostility were gone and you had to double take at how vastly different he's appearing now. He has his lower lip pushed out into a pout, eyes wide with mirth as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his warm palms heating your cold-nipped skin.
“Aigoo, you're so cold noona. Let's go in and binge that foreign show you've been following.”
With hands now intertwined, he leads you inside the building where Jimin was already standing inside and was holding the door open for you both. You were being tugged into your own home yet you couldn’t help but feel tense as Taehyung and Jimin welcomed you back in with the same dark look you saw earlier.
165 notes · View notes
earthtooz · 2 years
Note
OMG IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR FAKE PT.2 I LOVED PT 1 SM I LOVE YOU SM EHEHEH
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𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ─ when the reader receives hate ! pt 1
includes: reo mikage, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi
warnings: gn!reader, they/them prns in kaiser + isagi, 2k+ wc for reo, 1.6k for kaiser and 1k for isagi, ooc!characters, borderline panic attack in reo's, hate and negative comments, happy endings for all, let me know if i'm missing any warnings, bad wriitng LOL
a/n: ask and u shall receive ! bro why is the cover image so low quality i can't be assed to fix it - ANYWAYS ENJOY ANON !!!
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MIKAGE REO:
if there’s one thing reo is used to, it’s the amount of eyes constantly surveying his every move. there is not one aspect of his life that hasn’t been intruded by the amount of aristocratic families wondering how he’s doing. reo’s quite fed up with it himself. 
but of course, if there’s one thing dating reo mikage entails, it’s having those same eyes scrutinising your every move even harder- a fact you accepted before he asked you to be his. a fact you were starting to get used to.
despite all the glamourised smiles and ambiguous compliments of your relationship, there will always be some who aren’t afraid to voice their opinions.
which, is how you got stuck talking to some ceo’s daughter at a gala you were attending as reo’s plus one. 
“i’m not trying to be mean or anything, just honest,” she says with a particular slice of her hands, flaunting her expensive nails and jewellery. “but i don’t think you’re right for reo, and i know i am not the only one who thinks that! don’t you think it’s time you stop hogging him and y’know, return him to those who really deserve him?”
something disgusting churns within you at the way she talks of your boyfriend, as if he were some goal; a fish in a sea of hungry fishermen. the statement makes you feel violated, you can’t imagine how reo would feel being talked about like this for his entire life.
“and who might that be?” you counter, trying your best to remain calm and not give in to the storm within you.
she flares her nostrils, narrowing her perfectly painted eyes. “look around. take a good glance at the competition.”
“i won’t do that because there is no competition. reo chose me, whether you like it or not,” you firmly place your drink down on the table beside you before pointedly showing her the beautiful promise ring, encrusted with diamonds that reo himself placed on your finger. “besides, if there even was a competition in the first place, i’m afraid you’re all much too late.”
with a final sneer, she turns around with a pointed flick of her healthy, smooth hair before walking away, classy and expensive as ever.
just like everyone around you.
you, on the other hand, find it hard to breathe, and the luxurious fabric of your even more luxurious outfit is clinging to your body. before you even know it, you’re making a run for the exit, slipping past crowds of people and ignoring their looks of curiosity. 
no one would bother to look too long anyways.
you should be proud of how you managed to remain level-headed during that interaction, but you can’t help but give in to her manipulative tactics. you did take a good look of the competition and they all looked like millions upon millions of dollars. they have had their life plan sorted from the very moment of their birth, their destiny handed to them of a silver platter, and although you know to look beyond the materialism and gold, it’s hard to ignore it when you’re surrounded by marble walls and crystal chandeliers.
suddenly feeling like an imposter, you just want to hop in a cab and go home.
bolting through expansive halls with decorative arches and doors to match, you’re almost at the parking lot where the chauffeurs awaited, just a flight of stairs await your descent.
it’s not until a hand catches your wrist that you stop. 
turning around, you find no comfort in the familiarity of reo’s face which was laced with concern and worry. he’s panting, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, and his hair was all over his face. was he chasing after you?
“y/n! where are you going?” the purple-haired asks, eyebrows furrowing even more as he notices the distressed state you’re in. he grabs both your hands, manoeuvring you to look him square in the eyes. except, it’s so difficult, you’re looking everywhere but at him. “i was calling your name the entire time, did you not hear me?” 
“reo, please, leave me alone,” you request with a shaky voice, trying to get out of his grip with no success.
“i can’t, not when you’re like this,” he protests, “deep breaths, y/n, come back to me.”
a few moments of silence pass by, allowing you to return to your senses as reo holds your hands against his heart, stroking your skin with his thumb. no longer overwhelmed and suffocated by your thoughts, it’s hard to look your boyfriend in the eye, cowering away from his gaze.
“what’s the matter?” he asks gently, pressing a hand against your cheek delicately. it’s warm. you want to melt into him.
“it’s- i, i had a really- you know what, nevermind,” you murmur, shaking your head, turning your back against reo as you pull your hands away from his. 
you miss the expression of heartbreak that appears on his pretty face. 
your cold actions don’t deter him. instead, it makes him more determined to stay by your side, chasing after you even as you descend down the stairs. since your shoes were a lot more complicated than his, the soccer player catches up to you quickly to guide you by the small of your back as he mirrors your pace.
“i want to go home,” you mutter to him once you’re on the ground, trying your best not to collapse under the gaze of so many, surrounded by butlers and chauffeurs.  
he nods with a gentle gaze. “let’s go home then.”
his kindness is not enough to shield you from the scrutiny that bears into you. “no, reo, you should stay, i’ll just catch a taxi home or something.”
he looks at you in pure astonishment, slightly taken back by your weird attitude. 
“but i don’t want to. why would i want to stay if you’re not?” asks the purple-haired. 
opting to remain silent rather than answer, you try to walk towards the main road of the highway, only to be cut off by reo shoving himself in front of you.
“and why would i let you take a cab home?” your purple-haired lover questions, placing both of his hands on his cheeks so you can finally look him in the eye. “y/n, what’s going on? something happened, didn’t it?”
taking both of his hands away from your face, you take a step away; once again missing the look of astonishment and heartbreak that appears on reo’s face. “nothing happened,” you say stubbornly, rubbing your hands against your arms.
“i don’t want to go home if you’re like this, can we please just talk for a little?” he remains behind you, getting the hint that you don’t want to be provoked or touched in any way, even if it’s killing him. the soccer player’s fingers itch with the need to embrace and trace every part of you that you’ll allow, but, for the sake of your fragile state, he doesn’t.
with a small exhale, you agree. it would be unfair for you to leave reo in the dark, continually brushing off his genuine kindness due to some chick that got in your head.
he leads you towards the gardens nearby which were dimly lit, yet still very beautiful. spring was in full season, so you could only catch glimpses of the beautiful flora that aligned the path, but there was no denying that it was still breathtaking. reo walks beside you, synchronising his footsteps with yours.
eventually, you arrive at a fountain in the middle of the garden. where you take a seat on its marble ledge, reo whispers ‘one second’ to you before running off to the bushes where the red roses were. he returns quickly, jogging back to you with a singular flower in his hands. 
“for you, my love,” he declares with a small smile, bowing with an extended hand, expecting you to take his gift.
you readily do, heart warming at his silliness whilst twirling the rose in your fingers. “thank you,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he places his hand next to you so he can lean against the fountain for support. 
the promise ring you wear on your finger feels heavier than usual, especially when he smiles fondly at you, a lovesick expression on his face that is no doubt mirrored by you. 
but looking at him, you can’t help but recall the stinging reality that he lived in a world of glamour, decadence, and allure; only doubled by the fame that came with his life as a pro-soccer player. you love reo with your whole being, really, sometimes you fear that your feelings might be a little too much, but loving him with a materialistic barrier in between is difficult. 
the idea of letting him go than stealing him away from the world of mystique feels suddenly a lot kinder.
“reo,” you begin after a few minutes of simply being in each other’s presence. he looks at you with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, directing 100% of his attention towards you. with a deep inhale, you continue.
“do you ever think that… we’re not, meant to be?”
the silence is deafening.
“what do you mean?” he asks with a small stutter of disbelief, “of course we’re meant to be! you’re the one for me- you’re my soulmate!”
usually, when reo says that, it makes your insides gush and flutter, but now it riddles you with guilt and scepticism. “how can you be so sure?”
“y/n,” he sounds so very desperate. reo’s eyes have always been the window to his soul and seeing the way they shine with tears, your chest clenches with an unpleasant feeling. “why are you doubting my love for you?”
his hand goes to your ring finger, playing with the jewellery that you suddenly feel like you don’t deserve.
“you agreed, remember? you agreed to letting me love you forever and loving me in return. i put this ring on you because it’s always going to be you, no matter what circumstance, i’ll always choose you.” 
“but is choosing me the right decision?”
“yes, a thousand times yes, there will never be. anyone. but. you.” reo increases the amount of emphasis he puts into each word, now changing his position so that he stood in front of you, caging you with his build. “can you tell me what happened, beautiful? because something clearly did and soured my gorgeous y/n’s mood.”
the sudden onslaught of compliments, mixed with how close reo was, broke down your resolve easily, crumbling at his feet as you gave in to his gentle demands. 
“i met an unpleasant someone who told me i should give you up for people who deserve you more,” you whisper, throwing your arms around his neck, a gesture of equal affection and possessiveness. 
he hums, seemingly calm but you know better. the furrow of his eyebrows was one of scrutiny and distaste. you’re glad he’s trying to remain subtle, you’ve had enough of emotional responses for one night.
“and who might this unpleasant someone be?”
“i have no idea. she gave me a name but it went in one ear then out the other.”
pressing his face into the junction where your neck and shoulder meet, the soccer player revels at this chance to be close to you. 
“it was probably important though,” you reiterate, “and, well, might be able to benefit you a lot better than i ever can.” 
he scoffs into your skin, causing you to shiver. “no one’s name is as important as mine, my love, and no one can boost it more than what it’s already worth. if anything, those who have me gets the boost, i’m already the best.” 
his (rightfully deserved) cockiness makes you smile ever so slightly as you punch his shoulder. “are you implying i’m a gold digger?”
“well, you didn’t choose me, did you?” asks reo with a raise of his eyebrow. “i begged you to go on a date with me and you only agreed the fourth time i asked.”
the recollection makes a giggle slip past your lips- a sound reo dearly missed as he admires your beauty in the dim lighting of the gardens. he places a fleeting kiss on your neck before looking up at you. 
“of course, everyone else won’t know that and assume,” you point out before leaning in towards his lips, unable to resist him much longer.
“who cares?” he mutters against you before melting against you in a gentle kiss filled with love, reassurance, and promises. “they’re all irrelevant anyways, just a bunch of talkers with nothing to back up their words.”
“then what am i?”
“you’re my future. you’re the one that actually cares about me, more than my money or my soccer skills. remember the first day we met and you told me to get out of the way? back in college?”
“well you were blocking my path. i was running late to my class as well.”
reo chuckles, pulling away from you so there was a little distance between your faces. “never thought i’d want someone so bad just because they didn’t know who i was.”
“then show me,” you say with a little challenge in your tone. “screw the gala, take me home, reo.”
“thought you’d never ask.”
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MICHAEL KAISER:
“kaiser gets it in! a miracle shot, just what you’d expect from bastard münchen’s genius striker!” the announcer exclaims as the crowd shoots up in excitement, roaring and buzzing with excitement as the members of germany’s football team all swarm around the blond, cheering and celebrating. 
kaiser participates in the hype, fist bumping his teammates before running back to position, but not without sparing a look at the screen that was displaying the match. no one misses the kiss he blows in the direction of the camera and although the stadium is filled with squeals (from boys, girls, grown ups and children alike), you know something they don’t.
right before the match, kaiser made you promise that each goal of his equated to ten kisses, a deal that you readily accepted and bumped up to twenty as a way of motivating him to take the game home.
that kiss he blew was just a way of solidifying that he was thinking of you and the wink he sent straight after was just making sure you’d keep your promise.
you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world with him. 
as the match progresses, you can tell it’s going to be an easy victory, with all favours towards your lover’s team - kaiser earning another two himself. 
it’s almost scary just how effortlessly he dominates, settling the score at 3-1 for bastard münchen, once again making feats you thought were difficult look effortless. as the whistle blew announcing the end of the game, roars fill the stadium once again and you too, jump up with the crowd to cheer as loudly as you can.
repping his jersey with his name on the back, it just feels too good, especially when you bask in the afterglow of a well deserved victory.
you don’t miss the amount of glances kaiser sends your way, antsy to be able to reach you and spend some time with you because he’d rather have you congratulate him than a bunch of old, white men that just want to sponsor him. they can get in line because you’re his top priority.
you hope he sees you and the heart you make with your arms over your head just for him. 
dawdling out of the stadium always takes forever because of the amount of people that always come to see his game so when over half the people have cleared out, you make your way down to the front row, where your soccer genius boyfriend was waiting for you.
“you were incredible, my love,” you say as a greeting, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, one that he readily returns. you don’t really care that he was sweaty, too overwhelmed by how proud of him you were.
not that your opinions really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but kaiser considered it a great lucky charm, one he holds highly.
“as always,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against your cheek. you giggle at the sensation, smiling widely as he continues. “tell me more about how amazing i was.”
rolling your eyes at his arrogance, you decide to indulge him, just a little. “the best out there, greatest soccer player of all time, and you looked so handsome too, my main character,” you pinch his cheek. “done?”
“not at all,” keens kaiser, smiling at you like a cat.
“get your stuff first and then when we’re home, i’m all yours.”
“i’m holding you to your promise, pretty, that’s sixty kisses from you.”
with a final kiss on the forehead as farewell, you bid him goodbye and watch as he runs off to get changed, joining ness who was waiting for him by the exit. the magenta-haired soccer player waves at you from halfway across the field, a gesture you readily return before turning around to go outside.
passing by the security guards who give you a little nod of acknowledgement, you’re relieved to see that the audience that gathered tonight had gone off into their cars, ready to go home for the night. 
you’re about to go around to where the players exit so kaiser wouldn’t swarmed by a flurry of fans and reporters, until you’re stopped by a hand on the shoulder. the grip wasn’t strong, but demanding enough for you to turn around and greet whoever wanted to talk to you.
it was a pair of teenage girls. they were well-dressed and pampered, but the look they were giving you was less than friendly. somehow, you already knew where this conversation was going.
“can i help you?” you ask, flashing them a smile.
one of them eyes you up and down, judgement very clear in her eyes. you cringe a little. “are you kaiser’s partner?” she asks. 
you nod in affirmation. you hate the sleazy feeling developing in your gut, expanding due to the scrutiny of their gazes. one of the girls nudge the other one in an ‘i told you so’ manner, which is returned with a smirk that is mischievous in kind.
“do you need something from me?” you question, finally letting your astoundment show on your face. really, you just wanted to walk away from this conversation and find kaiser so you could go home.
“yeah, we’re just wondering why, y’know, that he’d choose you.” 
“excuse me?”
“like don’t get us wrong, you’re pretty and all, but we just think that you’re kinda bland for him,” one of them states as the other hums in agreement. 
the audacity. you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground.
“okay, cool. what do you suggest i do then since you seem to be experts in my relationship.”
“break up with him, duh?”
“and let one of you date him instead?” you scoff. “fat chance.” 
“just give him up, okay? we could love kaiser more than you probably ever could, clout chaser.”
“gold digger!”
now amused more than frustrated, you bite back the laugh that bubbles in your chest. it was entertaining seeing some sixteen year old girls try to tell you that you and your boyfriend (of two years) shouldn’t be together. 
being kaiser’s partner had its downsides sometimes, and it was mostly just the hate you receive for ‘stealing’ him off the market, especially since he was so young, some fans didn’t appreciate that he wasn’t an eligible bachelor. but, you’re used to it. so long as you get to watch him in the spotlight, you don’t really mind the darkness. 
you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “right… are we done here? because this ‘gold digger’ wants to see their partner and congratulate him.”
“what part aren’t you understanding?” one of them asks before the other one completes the sentence. “you and kaiser just don’t look good together!”
before you could answer, a heavy arm drapes itself over your shoulders. “aww, why not?” a familiar voice asks. the two girls in front of you freeze, panic evident on their faces. “what disturbances held you up from seeing me?”
then you see and hear an overload of flashes and camera clicks. kaiser must’ve caught the paparazzi on his way out and you suddenly remember that you left him waiting, feeling slightly guilty when you turn your head to meet his gaze. you wrap your arms around his torso, happier than ever to feel his warmth against your own. 
“what happened here?” kaiser asks, a question directed at you and you only. 
“they were just telling me that they didn’t like that i was a main role in your theatre,” you say, earning an eyebrow raise from your genius boyfriend. “how should we fix that?”
he hums for a moment, meeting the widened eyes of his fans.
“kick them out,” he simply declares before turning around with you still in his arms. you two pass by paparazzi, paying them little mind except from the small smiles you send their way. 
once you’re in a clearer, quieter area, your boyfriend turns to you and embraces you properly, a gesture you return eagerly as he breathes you in.
“what a way to sour such a good victory,” murmurs kaiser, voice muffled by his jersey that you were wearing. “can’t believe i had to play your knight in shining armour instead of the king that i am.”
you pinch his neck which causes him to flinch with a little shriek. always leave it to you to dumb down his narcissism.
“i was handling it myself pretty well, y’know,” you sigh, “being the michael kaiser’s partner, i’ve grown immune to the hate i receive.”
kaiser frowns, “i didn’t think it happened often,” he whispers. “i’m sorry. how many times have you had to defend yourself without me knowing?”
“it hardly matters-”
“-but it does. i don’t like when people slander you, less when it’s for no reason other than because you’re with me. you should be marvelled at and admired, just like the masterpiece you are.”
his words cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach, a feeling you mask with a playful eye roll. 
“yes but,” you counter, reaching to cup his cheek, “being with you makes up for it.” 
he smirks, contrasting the downhearted expression he wore moments earlier. kaiser’s skill of immediately recovering from whatever kicks him down truly is something to behold and at times, envy. “of course it does,” he boasts, dramatically flipping one of his bangs. 
“besides, i’m willing to fight back if it means i get to be with you.”
before he can argue back, you grab his arm and pull him towards the entrance.
“now come on, let’s talk about it another day. i believe i owe you sixty kisses.”
“make it one hundred now for leaving me waiting for so long.”
“if you get too greedy i’ll leave you on the sidewalk.”
“you’d do that to your king? how dare you!”
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ISAGI YOICHI:
“what does your mum like?” you ask a clueless isagi who simply stares at the range of perfumes that the department store had displayed.
“i have no idea,” he mutters. “i never really paid attention to what smells she used.”
“fragrances, yoichi, not smells.”
“oh. right,” the star soccer player rubs his neck awkwardly, smiling sheepishly at you after correcting his small mistake. 
he was so adorable, you wanted to pinch his cheeks.
this was the first time that isagi was buying a gift for his mother with his own money, and the first person he turned to for help was his partner: you, explaining that this had to be the best gift she’s ever received. for how much she’s done for him, and how much she’s supported his soccer career, isagi doesn’t know if he can repay it through money, but gifts are hard to deny regardless.
readily agreeing to help, you have memories of isagi’s mother welcoming you into the family with warm arms. she would tell you how beautiful you are, how excited she was to meet you, and that her son better treat you well otherwise you could always turn to her for help; a statement that made the star striker gulp.
“i mean, you could never go wrong with a few classics like carolina herrera, dior, or chanel?” you suggest, walking over to the section filled with perfumes contained in shelves, their respective brands displayed on top. isagi follows you like a lost puppy, clinging close to your side by holding your hand, squeezing it ever so often.
everything you’re saying is going in one ear and through the other, and isagi lets it show on his face. 
“don’t worry yoichi, any perfume you pick tends to be a good gift regardless, besides, we have the whole day to figure out what your mum likes,” you reason logically, just in case it might provide him with some relief in the midst of expensive, designer fragrances. 
“right,” he huffs, reaching out to read the labels of some bottles.
after a long hunt of going through the shelves, he eventually settles on a fragrance from maison francis (with a pricetag that made you gawk yet isagi was very calm about, agreeing without even thinking about it), but since the packaged version was locked in a glass cabinet, you opted to call a store attendant.
“that’s a great idea, babe, need me to go with you?” he asks, readjusting the strap of his beat-up bag, the one he’s had since high school. funny how some things don’t change for isagi, you love that about him.
you shake your head in response, telling him to ‘wait here’ before strolling off.
however, during this brief time of being without you, isagi was approached by a trio who looked like they were a family, the eldest holding a phone between his hand.
“isagi yoichi?” he asks timidly, fiddling with the phone.
the soccer player flashes a friendly smile, hoping to reduce any of the anxiety they might feel from approaching him. he was just an average, friendly guy after all. “that’s me, need anything?”
“can we take a picture?” the middle daughter asks, pressing her hands together in a pleading motion.
“of course! come on.”
the set of siblings smile eagerly before ambling to isagi’s side, who squats down so he could fit in frame. after a ‘3, 2, 1’ countdown, the photo is taken and just as the dark-haired athlete was about to stand up, a store attendant approaches.
“would you like me to take the picture?” they ask politely, gesturing to the phone.
simultaneously, everyone agrees and soon enough, the photo is taken and done, allowing isagi to high-five them before waving them off, the three of them thanking him profusely for his time.
the store attendant lingers, turning to face him with wide eyes of admiration. “wow, i didn’t think i’d ever get to meet you!” they exclaim. “i watched your match against the under-20 team like so long ago! you were amazing!”
“oh, yeah,” isagi chuckles, flustered at all this recognition, even though he’s been getting more and more of it lately, “thank you for your support.”
although he inwardly cringes at the line that he’s reused over and over again, the store helper thinks nothing of it, beaming back at him. “you’re super cute too, do you think i could get your number?”
isagi lets his shock show on his face before blurting out: “no, i have a partner already.”
the attendant’s face drops into a look of disappointment and the striker wants to run off to find you. you never should have left him alone.
“what a shame. the person that you were just with right?” isagi nods. “don’t know what you think is so special about them, i personally think you’re too good for them and should find someone better, but, it’s not up to me.”
isagi feels his vision zero in, growing red with each word. him? too good for you? what irony.
“excuse me?” he vocalised lowly- practically a growl as he eyes the employee down. “i’m giving you three seconds to get out of my sight before i-.”
he’s too preoccupied with the fury he feels to notice the way the attendant squeaks, eyes laced with fear, before scurrying off mid-sentence, fully intimidated by the striker. isagi sighs, slumping his shoulders. he’s never used that tone to anyone outside of soccer in an attempt of pre-game slander and now he just misses you.
where did you run off to?
right on queue, you materialise beside him, huffing with a pout on your face. “i couldn’t find any store attendants, that’s so weird! where’d they go?”
deciding against telling you that he just scared one away for trashing you, he simply leans his body weight on you, sighing when you embrace him tightly so he wouldn’t knock the both of you over.
“whoa, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” you ask, unable to hide the smile on your face from his sudden acts of affection. “everything okay, love?” 
“i want to go home,” he whispers against your shoulder. “spend some time with you.”
“what about the gift?”
“i’ll order it online. it can arrive in time.”
relenting, you pluck him off you with great effort. “if you’re sure then, okay, let’s go home.”
“we can get takeout from your favourite on the way home.”
“what’s the occasion?”
“thought i needed to show you how much i appreciate you.”
4K notes · View notes
koiiiji · 1 month
Note
im here for yakuza!Gun x reader smut 🤧🤧 like, you stayed at his family's mansion overnight because he introduced you to his clan for the first time and when the night came, this perv didn't care there was no soundproof system between rooms in the mansion (ofc, that's the traditional Japanese house style!!), he kept doing the deed, and even warned you to lower your voice if you didn't want anyone to hear 😏😏
ty as always bae <33
p/s: that's the idea and you can customize it however you want, just make sure that he is a meanie but soft at the same time (is it possible hm 🤔)
p/s (2): i have to send this idea right away in case you close your ask box too early lol 😂😂
author's note ; i mean Gun IS in fact yakuza, no? anyway sooo here we go! i had kinda same scenario but more rough and generally dark, like yandere, but fuck it, i think i won’t finish it anytime soon, bc i thought to add it to your request, but i don’t want to make you wait anymore. i think i was carried away a little in beginning, so its longer then expected, sorry!! 💞😮‍💨
author's note 2 ; art from pinterest, it says credits to : jongjong822 on x
tw ; f! reader, nsfw, minors, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!
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· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
to be honest, you had no plans to meet Yamazaki Gun's family tonight. it's not that you were against the idea — quite the opposite! you'd heard plenty about who his father was and what his family did. there were a lot of rumors swirling around town, and while you were a little wary, you were mostly curious. besides, you hadn’t been together for that long, so you didn’t expect Gun to introduce you to his family anytime soon.
when he told you earlier in the day to dress up for the evening, you weren’t surprised. it was just another night, another overly expensive restaurant, and another excuse to be in his company. as you sat in the passenger seat of Gun's sleek black car, you glanced out the window at the city passing by. the soft glow of the streetlights bathed the streets in a warm, golden hue, making everything feel a little more magical, a little more alive.
the atmosphere inside the car was just as enchanting. Gun had always been a man of few words, but tonight he seemed more at ease, more open. the quiet hum of the engine was accompanied by the faint sound of classical music playing through the car's speakers, creating a peaceful ambiance. you felt a sense of calm wash over you as you glanced at Gun, who was focused on the road ahead. his profile was illuminated by the soft light from the dashboard, casting shadows that only added to his already mysterious aura.
the restaurant was just as extravagant as you'd expected, with its towering marble pillars, crystal chandeliers, and tables draped in fine linen. evening went perfectly. you and Gun shared a bottle of wine, and as the evening wore on, you found yourself getting a little tipsy. it wasn’t enough to lose control, just enough to feel a pleasant buzz that made everything seem a little funnier, a little more relaxed. your laughter came more easily, and you found yourself leaning in closer to Gun, your hand occasionally brushing against his. he seemed to enjoy the relaxed version of you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he listened to your stories and responded with his own dry wit.
when the dinner finally came to an end, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. the food had been exquisite, the wine even more so, and the company... well, there was no one else you'd rather be with. so you assumed that Gun would take you back to your home now, to end the night on a sweet note with a kiss or maybe something more at your doorstep. so, when he steered the car away from the familiar streets and onto an unknown road, you raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him. the wine had left you feeling pleasantly hazy, and you were more focused on continuing your easygoing conversation than worrying about where you were headed.
“so, tell me,” you began, your words slightly slurred but still coherent, “why do you always pick these fancy places? are you still trying to impress me, Gun?”
Gun glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “maybe i just like seeing you all dressed up,” he teased, his voice as smooth as the leather seats you were sitting on.
you laughed, leaning back in your seat and looking out at the unfamiliar road ahead. “well, it’s working. but you know, you don’t have to go all out every time. i'm just as happy with oversized t-shirt, most stupidest comedy and you.”
“noted,” he said with a small nod, though there was a hint of something more serious in his tone. “but tonight is special.”
you blinked, trying to process his words through the pleasant fog in your mind. “special? how so?”
“you'll see,” was all he said, and you let it go, too relaxed and warm from the wine to press him further. conversation flowed easily between the two of you as Gun drove. night seemed endless, the road stretching out in front of you like a promise of more to come. when the car finally slowed and turned into a long, tree-lined driveway, you began to wonder just where he had brought you. the driveway was impeccably maintained, with tall, ancient trees on either side casting long shadows under the soft glow of strategically placed lights.
Gun parked the car in front of an imposing mansion, the kind you’d only seen in movies. building was grand, with tall windows that gleamed in the moonlight and a wide set of steps leading up to the front door richly decorated with mahogany. you stared up at it, your slightly inebriated mind struggling to catch up with the reality of the situation.
“Gun… where are we?” you asked, your voice tinged with awe and a hint of nervousness. he turned off the engine and looked at you, his expression unreadable. “this is my family's home,” he said simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
your heart skipped a beat. “wait… you mean… we’re meeting your family? tonight?”
he nodded, his gaze softening as he reached out to gently take your hand. “yes, tonight. i wanted you to meet them.”
panic began to bubble up in your chest, but it was quickly tempered by the warmth of his hand in yours. the wine had left you feeling too relaxed to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. Instead, you let out a soft, nervous laugh. “well, you could have given me a bit more of a warning,” you teased, squeezing his hand as you tried to keep the mood light.
“i didn’t want you to worry,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’ll be fine. they’ll love you.”
before you could respond, Gun stepped out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you. he offered you his hand, and you took it, letting him help you out of the car. as you stood there, staring up at the mansion, the reality of what was about to happen finally sank in.
you were about to meet Yamazaki Gun’s family. tonight.
you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and looked up at Gun. he was watching you with that same calm, unreadable expression, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes — something that made you feel like everything was going to be okay.
with one last squeeze of his hand, you smiled and nodded. “alright then, let's do this.”
and to be honest, everything went better than you had expected. the Yamazaki mansion was truly grand, almost overwhelming in its size and elegance. the towering shoji screens, the polished wooden floors, and the delicate tatami mats all spoke of a family with deep roots and considerable influence. people you encountered within its walls — servants, distant relatives, or perhaps close family friends — were polite, yet cold. they carried themselves with an air of reserved dignity, their words carefully chosen, their expressions unreadable.
Gun guided you through the mansion with a familiarity that showed he had once called this place home. as you walked, you couldn't help but notice how much Gun resembled his father. the elder Yamazaki was a stoic man, tall and imposing, dressed in a traditional black kimono with a hakama. he carried an aura of authority, and though his demeanor was stern, there was something in his gaze — something that hinted at a really small softness beneath his cold exterior.
Gun's mother, on the other hand, was an elegant woman, the very picture of grace and strictness, wearing a beautiful, intricately patterned kimono. her hair was pulled back in a traditional style, and her movements were precise and measured. her eyes were sharp, watching you with an intensity that made you feel as if you were being evaluated at every turn. yet, despite the coldness in her gaze, she followed every formality with exacting precision, treating you with the respect and courtesy befitting a guest in their home. she spoke little, but when she did, her words were measured and polite, though they lacked any warmth.
as the evening drew to a close, and the final course after small greeting tea ceremony was cleared away, you felt a sense of relief. it hadn’t been as daunting as you’d feared, and you were proud of how well you’d handled yourself. you expected that Gun would now take you back home, and the two of you would quietly slip away from all formalities and coldness of this house. but then Gun’s father, in his deep, commanding voice, made a suggestion that took you by surprise. “why don’t the two of you stay the night? it’s late, and it wouldn’t be wise to drive in your current state.”
you glanced at Gun, waiting for him to politely decline, but to your shock, he simply nodded. “we’ll stay.”
you blinked in surprise, a slight panic rising in your chest. you were unprepared for an overnight stay, and the idea of spending the night in Gun’s childhood home — under the same roof as his parents — was suddenly very intimidating. you opened your mouth to protest, but Gun leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “don’t worry. my father asked us to stay because he wants to discuss some business matters with me in the morning. just relax.”
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
with those words echoing in your head, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the futon, carefully prepared by the staff just a few minutes ago. the evening had been long and emotionally exhausting, but now, in the quiet of Gun’s childhood room, you felt a sense of calm begin to wash over you. after taking a shower, you had washed off the remnants of your makeup, feeling refreshed as the warm water rinsed away the day’s tension. the pleasant residue from the alcohol was still making itself felt, leaving you relaxed as you climbed into bed, where your boyfriend was already waiting for you.
Gun was lying on his back, his dark hair still damp from his own shower, his yukata loosely tied around his waist. as you slid under the covers, you immediately fell into his arms, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace. you settled comfortably against his chest, inhaling the clean, subtle scent of his shower gel, mingled with the familiar warmth of his skin. it was a scent that was unmistakably his, grounding you in the moment as you let out a contented sigh.
for a few moments, neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy of being alone together. the soft rustle of the futon as you shifted closer, the gentle rise and fall of Gun’s chest under your cheek — it all felt so peaceful, so right.
but as the silence stretched on, a small thread of anxiety began to tug at the back of your mind, and you couldn’t help but voice the question that had been lingering in your thoughts all evening. “do you think your parents liked me?”
Gun’s chest rumbled with a soft chuckle, and you felt his hand gently stroke your hair. “why do you ask? you were amazing tonight.”
“i just… i don’t know,” you murmured, feeling a little self-conscious. “your father was so serious, and your mother barely smiled. i couldn't tell what they were thinking.”
he let out another soft laugh, tilting your chin up so you could meet his eyes. “that’s just how they are. don’t take it personally. my father rarely smiles, and my mother… well, she’s always been a bit strict. but trust me, you made a good impression.”
you felt a wave of relief at his words, but you couldn’t resist teasing him a little: rolling onto your stomach, you now lay on top of him, folding your arms across his chest and resting your chin on them, you playfully asked "are you sure they're not just being polite to me?"
flicking your nose with his finger, he just laughed in response, the sound deep and genuine, and you couldn’t help but join in, the last remnants of your nerves melting away in the warmth of his laughter. but as your soft giggles subsided, the mood shifted, the lightheartedness giving way to something more intense. Gun’s eyes darkened - more, if it was even possible - as he looked at you, his playful expression fading into one of pure desire. without warning, he moved, his hands gripping your waist as he flipped you onto your back. you let out a surprised gasp, your heart skipping a beat as he loomed over you, his body pressing you into the futon. the sudden shift in his demeanor left you breathless, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as his face hovered inches from yours.
“Gun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your neck.
“mmm?” he hummed in response, his breath hot against your skin as he began to trail kisses along the curve of your throat. his hands moved with a deliberate slowness, slipping beneath the folds of your yukata to find the smooth skin of your back. you shivered at his touch, your body responding to the gentle caress of his fingers as they traced a path up and down your spine. his kisses grew more urgent, more passionate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips moving hungrily against your skin as his hands roamed freely over your body. the fabric of your yukata shifted as he explored, his touch sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.
“Gun,” you gasped again, your fingers tangling in his raven hair as you arched into him, craving more of the sensation he was drawing from you. his hands were everywhere, gliding over the curve of your back, sliding down to cup your ass cheeks before moving up again, each touch sending shivers of pleasure rippling through you.
he pulled back slightly, his breath coming in shallow pants as he gazed down at you — your hair, disheveled and slightly damp from the shower, was scattered across the pillows, your breathing was a little ragged and the fabric of your yukata, pulled to the side, opened up a beautiful view of your chest, which was slightly heaving from confusion, your cheeks were burning with excitement and still a small amount of embarrassment, while due to the alcohol you barely remembered where you both were.
with a quiet growl, Gun again clung to your collarbones, his hands moved faster, skillfully, undoing the ties of your robe with practiced ease to pull the unnecessary fabric lower. without moving away from you even for a centimeter, he caressed your neck with his lips, moved up a little higher, biting the lobe of your ear and descending in a wet path lower, again to the collarbones, this time not lingering there, but going lower to your chest, clasping it with one hand and kneading it in his large, calloused palm. with each of his movements, you moved towards him more and more, forgetting yourself and melting in his arms, moaning from his each touch.
as he skillfully make the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed beneath him, he groaned softly, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.
“you are so beautiful” he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body. right now there was only Gun, his touch, his warmth, the overwhelming passion that consumed you both.
“please” you whispered into his lips as he rose above you on his elbows again. one of his hands had already slid below your tummy, stroking your pussy with his entire palm, only fleetingly touching the sensitive bundle of nerves, pulling the first loud moan out of you.
“come on kitten, be quiet, you remember where we are” Gun's hot whisper enveloped your ear as his fingers continued to play with your wet pussy. “you know, this is a traditional old style house, the walls here are extremely thin” your boyfriend continued to whisper in your ear, enjoying your once again confused look as your cheeks flushed with renewed vigor. “you don't want anyone to hear us, do you, baby?” now one of his fingers slid up and down between your lips, smearing the moisture oozing out of you all over the entrance. he was lying on his side next to you, one of his hands reached under your neck as he place one finger in your mouth, making you suck and lick it with your tongue, while his other hand never left your pussy, now more insistently stroking and massaging your clit with one finger, while the other played with your tight entrance, pushing finger in just halfway.
time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to him, your body responding to his every caress and touch, every kiss, every whisper. the intensity of the moment, the way he made you feel cherished, desired, loved—it was all-encompassing, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.
and that's when you reached your first peak from his fingers caressing you deep inside, when your hot and wet walls tightened around him, and you could no longer stifle your moans with his fingers behind your cheek, only then Gun smiled insidiously, and with one light movement turned your softened body back onto your stomach. without wasting a second, his hands dug into the soft skin of your sides, right where he could feel the pelvic bones, and with your clouded brain you already assumed that there would be traces there in the morning. reaching for a pillow, and pushing it between your thighs and the futon, Gun hurriedly, casually stroked your pussy, passing from bottom to top, collecting all the juices of your previous orgasm, simultaneously stroking his cock, smearing mix of your saliva and his own spit along the entire length.
whimpering softly and burying your head in the pillow, in an attempt to stifle your moans, you gasped, clutching at the edges of the futon and the blanket under you, as the fat tip of his dick slowly squeezed into your tensed, gummy folds, painfully stretching you. a deep and heavy moan was heard from behind when Gun collapsed on top of you with all his weight, completely plunging his fat dick into your bosom, in one sharp movement, immediately hitting the g-spot, forcing you to arch your back, pressing your ass harder into his hips. with a satisfied purr, Gun covered your hands with his own, fastening them together into a lock, again leaning closer to you with his all body, pressing you into the thin mattress, he began to slowly move inside your warmth.
with each strong thrust, as he picked up speed, with each of his heavy breaths into your neck, it became harder for you to hold your ass higher, as well as your moans, almost drowned out by the pillow. over and over, as Gun's thick cock filled your gummy, warm walls completely, your eyelids grew heavy and your head fell back, right on his shoulder, as your jaw dropped, allowing sweet moans and whimpers to escape from your throat.
“kitten still wants the whole house to hear her, mm?” your boyfriend purrs breathlessly in your ear, mercilessly hammering into your poor pussy, forcing you to give up, and fall on the bed with your whole body, and only moan piteously when one of his arms wraps around your neck and closes your mouth, and the other one gets tangled in your hair, pulling it back just a little.
you never doubted that in the matter of bed, Gun always was a bit more wild and animalistic, but the way his hips slammed into you now, how heavy balls were beating against your clit, and the dirty sounds of squelching and slapping skin against skin, how his biceps tensed right where your cheek lay, all this made your eyes roll up to the back of your head and just whine pathetically under him and drool on his muscles.
you didn't even have the strength left, to hold still, all that helped him mercilessly hammer you into the mattress was the pillow under your hips while you lay under him and helplessly muttering incoherent words and praises. both intoxicated by the euphoria of sex, emotions and feelings, the two of you have lost your sense of time and space, just chasing your own peak and pleasure. to be honest, you didn't think much when your pussy covered Gun's twitching dick with cream, when he hitted his pink head right to the cervix, forcing you to scream and arch towards him, pressing your ass into his hips, and feel with your shoulder blades as his chest pressing you into bed.
and to be completely honest, you almost didn't remember how you both cum, the most important thing that was in front of your eyes was Gun's chest and his warm hand gently caressing your back, while he murmured something into your hair, when he covered you both with a blanket and you fell into a sweet sleep.
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
BONUS ;
the morning sunlight filtered softly through the shoji screens, casting a gentle glow over the room. you blinked awake, feeling the warmth of the futon and the lingering scent of Gun beside you. but as you turned over, reaching out to pull him closer, you found his side of the bed empty and cold. confusion washed over you as you sat up, realizing he was gone.
events of the night before came rushing back, and a deep blush crept over your cheeks. you buried your face in your hands, mortified at the thought of facing anyone after what had happened. Gun's parents, the staff — how could you possibly look them in the eye now? the thought of leaving the room made your heart race with anxiety, so you resolved to stay put, hoping to avoid any awkward encounters. minutes ticked by, each one stretching out into what felt like an eternity. you had no idea where Gun had gone or when he'd be back, leaving you in an uncomfortable solitude.
and just as you were about to retreat further under the covers, there was a soft knock at the door. your heart skipped a beat, dread pooling in your stomach. before you could respond, the door slid open, and Gun’s mother stepped inside.
she was impeccably dressed, her expression calm and composed. you immediately lowered your gaze, unable to meet her eyes, but she approached with a certain grace, her footsteps barely making a sound on the tatami mats.
“good morning,” she greeted you, her voice steady.
“m-mrs. Yamazaki,” you stammered, still unable to look up. “i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-”
“stop,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. “you have nothing to be sorry of. it’s natural.”
you finally dared to glance up at her, confusion flickering in your eyes. she took a seat beside you on the futon, her movements deliberate and serene. “you’re a woman, and you’re desired and loved. there’s nothing shameful about that. that’s just the nature of men — wild and unbridled when a woman is around. i was in your place once, and someday, you’ll be in mine.”
you blinked, taken aback by her words. was that… a blessing?
“wait,” you began hesitantly, “so… you heard everything?”
mrs. Yamazaki let out a soft sigh, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. “i’m not an idiot. from beginning i saw the way my son looks at you. and i know Yuzuru well enough, and what’s going on in his head, to prepare your bedroom far away from our own.”
your cheeks burned hotter, the mortification almost unbearable. “so… you didn’t hear?”
she paused, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “let’s say the whole mansion didn’t hear you… but maybe some part of it did.”
you swore you caught a fleeting, light, and kind laugh in her voice, and for a moment, the tension between you eased. there was a warmth in her tone that you hadn’t expected, something almost motherly and understanding.
“i...” you trailed off, still unsure of what to say.
mrs. Yamazaki reached out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “you are welcome here, as long as you make my son happy. and believe me, i haven't seen him this happy in a very long time.”
her words soothed some of the anxiety gnawing at you, and you managed a small, grateful smile. “thank you.”
she nodded, standing up gracefully. “now, come along. breakfast is ready.” as she turned to leave, you felt a sense of relief, the earlier embarrassment slowly fading.
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author's note 3 ; I FOUGHT INNER DEMONS TO FINISH IT I SWEAR!! SORRY THAT SPICY PART WASN’T THAT JUICY AND STUFF, I STILL NEED TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE PORN…HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT����😤🫶🏻
248 notes · View notes
giuseppe-yuki · 25 days
Note
I feel like Pierre's gf would be bffs with Esteban's gf and it woulf be them going on double dates and the guys going: i will pinch u if my gf doesn't notice it but she will and deprive me of fun stuff grrr
And then both of them have a heart attack when skysports show a video of snakey!gf cuddling with flying squirrel!gf
- 🐺
yessss most definitely! they absolutely refuse to be in a 2 meter radius of each other, but of course they ultimately begrudgingly give in each of their girlfriends' request to have a double date. (but not without complaining about it hours beforehand)
a lil blurb below (i altered your thought a little bit though):
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you just had about enough of your boyfriend's whining and groaning about spending time with esteban. whenever you mentioned having a double date with esteban's girlfriend, it was always, "yes, sure, mon amour! whatever you'd like!" and "sounds good to me, baby!" but when it hit the hour mark before the scheduled date, it turned to "how about we go somewhere else, just us?" and "do we really have to go?" it was exasperating, really.
when complaining didn't work, he tried to persuade you by buying you the latest designer jewelry.
"look!" he exclaims, gesturing excitedly towards his phone. "there's this brand, van cleef, that sells pretty nice bracelets! there's like a green ones and a blue ones that you can match your outfits with." pierre glances up to find you with your arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. "or i can get both?" he offers desperately.
"pierre gasly," you say, enunciating each syllable. "we are going, no matter how many van cleef bracelets you try to buy me."
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"OH MY GOD REALLY???" you gasp, clutching your chest. "no way he did that!"
"exactly!" esteban's girlfriend says, giggling. "i was shocked too!" she then takes a bite out of her bouillabaisse, and daintily taps her mouth with a pressed white napkin.
the restaurant that you had chosen was more on the fancier side, where even the water was poured out of chilled glass bottles. ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and beautiful arrangements of flowers adorned all the tables. both of you girls were dressed to the nines in fancy clothing and jewelry.
pierre and esteban sat face to face next to you both, looking out of place in more casual-type wear. they obviously looked like they didn't want to be there.
your boyfriend shoves an escargot into his mouth, all the while glaring at esteban.
you and esteban's girlfriend purposely ignore them both, continuing your conversation and sharing the latest tea.
mid-conversation, you see esteban softly start to tip his water glass in the direction of pierre. without missing a beat, his girlfriend snatches the water glass before it tips.
"esteban!" she chastises, softly placing the still-full glass away from her boyfriend. "i know you did that on purpose! if you do that again, i am returning those marvel funko pops i got you."
he huffs, crossing his arms, but stops trying to tip anymore glasses over. your boyfriend smugly smiles at his teammate.
the waiter comes by, offering some dessert options, including crème brûlée and profiteroles.
while enjoying some of the cream puffs, you see pierre reach out his hand out of the corner of your eye. it inches towards esteban's knee, ready to pinch him. you softly slap pierre's hand before it reaches its target. he jerks back, probably surprised you caught him when he was trying to be so secretive.
it is like talking to a child who doesn't listen. "keep your hands to yourself, pierre," you snap, shaking your head.
your boyfriend points at esteban, eyebrows furrowed. "he started it! he literally flicked me first- you just didn't see it!"
esteban furiously shakes his head. "i did not! he's lying!" he nudges his girlfriend, who looks annoyed at the scene playing out in front of her. "tell your bestie that pierre is lying!" he exclaims.
you and esteban's girlfriend exchange looks of pure exhaustion.
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several days later, you find yourself in esteban's girlfriend's company again. you both are snuggled on the couch with a movie playing. a bowl of fresh popped popcorn sits between you both, its scent filling your apartment.
suddenly, your phone explodes with texts. the girl next to you glances over, concerned.
"umm... is everything okay?" she asks, pausing the movie.
you flip over your phone, only to find 15 messages and 3 missed calls from pierre. clicking through your phone, you select the contact labeled "pierre 💋"
your boyfriend's voice echos out of the speakers rapidly. "whatareyoudoingwhydidyoupostthatpictureonline???"
"huh?" you say, amused. "what did you say?"
esteban's girlfriend covers her giggles with a hand in front of her mouth.
"i said, why did you post that picture online?? my girlfriend cannot be seen fraternizing with the enemy's girlfriend!"
"ohhh!!!" you exclaim, realization dawning. you and esteban's girlfriend had a little photoshoot before starting the movie, with you posing in your snake form curled protectively around your bestie's flying squirrel shapeshift form. "baby, she is not an enemy!! if you guys would just get over your feud, you would probably see that esteban is a nice person like he was back when you were kids!"
a pause comes from the other side of the phone. pierre lets out a long exhale, thinking about it.
"no!" he finally decides.
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Find me - Chapter 1
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Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader
Summary: At a ball you meet the one person you thought you would never see again, you left him once. Will you leave him again?
Word count: Currently no idea
Warnings: Some sugestiveness, angst and minor details of Azriels work as a spymaster.
Note: So this is loosely based on a dream I once had, it was heartbreaking so I thought I might as well use writing as therapy
Chapter 2
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The ballroom was huge and the light flickering from the crystal chandeliers that hung above your head made all jewels, sequin and glitter reflect the light. It was a beautiful sight.
You walked through the crowd of people, looking for no one in particular. You had no idea how or when you’d gotten here, you weren’t even quite sure who had invited you. Usually you stayed within the borders of your own court. But it seemed that you’d made an exception for once.
Everyone seemed somewhat familiar. You smiled at the friends who laughed around the tables filled with food as they filled each other goblets with fairy wine, at the couples who snuck away to find somewhere a little more secluded to steal a minute or two and at those who filled the room with laughter that echoed through the room.
As a waiter walked past you, you grabbed a flute of champagne from his tray. You sipped at the bubbly drink as you scanned the room once more, hoping to see at least one person you recognized. And then you spotted him.
He was beautiful in his black suit, it was such a stark contrast from his usual leathers and blue siphons. His wings were tucked close to him, almost as if he was afraid to take up space. His hair was combed back, revealing his forehead and the slight wrinkle he had between his brows. Your breath hitched, and you suddenly wished you were able to turn invisible at will.
You wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and ruffle his hair, once again revealing his somewhat loose curls that you’d once loved to run your fingers through in the late hours of the night. You wanted nothing more than to once again kiss his lips, to taste him.
But you had left him, that much you knew. But you just couldn’t remember why.
His shadows pooled around his feet, and indicated the constant stream of information that was always available to the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. You felt something cold around your ankle, and as you hiked up your skirt you saw the little rouge shadow that had slipped past its master. It almost looked like a puppy happy to be reunited with its owner as it twirled around you.
You giggled, which only seemed to amuse it even more.
In the hope that you could turn it away before he noticed its absence, you looked towards where he had been mere seconds before, and your eyes met his right away. The eyes you had once loved to stare into for hours at the time, the hazel pools of a man you once knew, seemed sad all of the sudden.
It was an emotion that seemed so out of character for him, and you felt your heart breaking a little at the sight of it, especially knowing that you were most likely the cause of the sadness and the purple shadows that hung underneath his eyes.
Azriel furrowed his brows at the rouge shadow as he no undoubtedly tried calling it back to him. But it seemed like it refused to listen to his quiet command. He walked towards you with a confidence that would make lesser males crumble in his presence.
You felt the blush creeping up your neck before it settled in your cheeks.
“Excuse me” he almost whispered, as he went out of his way to not meet your eyes. He bent down and physically yanked the shadow from you. You could’ve sworn it looked almost sad to leave you behind.
He stood up, and quickly turned away from you, almost fleeing. You don’t know what came over you but you grabbed his wrist and saw him stiffen as your skin came into contact with his.
“Y/N… Please, dont” it was an almost silent plea, one who broke your heart, but there was no way you were letting him walk away from you.
You pulled him towards you, forcing him to face you. He had a pained expression on his face and his eyes were closed. Despite of that you still send a small smile his way. Your other hand found his other wrist and you slowly pulled his arms around your waist.
He reacted instantly and despite not even noticing, he pulled you closer to him. “I’m so sorry” You whispered as you raised your hand to his cold cheek. He leaned into your touch as he finally looked at you, a single tear escaping his eyes. Your thumb quickly whisked it away before anyone had a chance to notice it.
The shadows swirled around the two of you desperate to give you some privacy, and even his wings seemed to be shielding the two of you from wandering eyes.
“I don’t know why I left you, I won't ever leave you again, please just give me another chance” you whispered, your voice threatened to crack, as his eyes searched your face for any sign of a deception, any sign of what you were saying, was nothing more than a lie.
“Don’t say things you might regret…”
You shook your head and sent a small smile his way, it was filled with regret and sadness. “It’s always been you and I’m here now and I promise it won't ever happen again”
But were you able to promise him that? You still couldn’t remember why or how you had left him behind, it was like a distant memory that was locked away, one you couldn’t access.
He pulled you from the ground and you couldn’t help the giggle when he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. Desperate for your scent, desperate to feel your heartbeat against his own. “You better mean it” he whispered against your exposed skin.
You pulled at his hair, ruining it even though he had most likely done his best to bend his curls to his will for the event tonight. But you didn’t care, you always liked him better with his bed head anyways.
He kissed his way from that sweet spot where your neck met your shoulder, he nibbled at your ear and kissed you from there, down your cheekbones until his lips hovered over your own. And in a blink of an eye he stole your shallow breaths from your mouth with his own. He ate every whimper and small moan, as if they all belonged to him and him alone, as if it would be the crime of the century if any other male heard it.
“You do know you’re in a public place right? Everyone can see you” the voice was teasing, but in no way cruel. Without letting you down Azriel turned towards the other winged male that now stood in front of the two of you.
Azriel laughed, and his brother realized he hadn’t heard that sound in months.
“I apologize Cass” and he felt you stiffen in his arms, and sent you a reassuring smile, before once again returning you to the ground. He was here, the Lord of Bloodshed, Cassian. But of course he was, they would all most likely be here.
“It’s all good. But Nesta is gonna hate that she skipped this ball tonight, she would’ve loved to see you take a female in front of all these fancy fae”
This time it was your time to laugh, and you flet how your muscles relaxed at his way of addressing the elephant in the room. Azriel couldn’t help but to pull you closer to his side, lips kissing the top of your head.
“So you must be the one who broke my brother's heart” Cassian said as he crossed his arms, to anyone beside you and Azriel, he would look angry, almost disappointed in the way he stood before you. But all you could see was the happiness he held for his brother.
Cassian sent you a small smile. “Don’t worry, I don’t judge, my own mate was indecisive as well”
You couldn’t help but almost wince at his words. It wasn’t that you were indecisive, or at least you didn’t think that was it…
“It’s okay. It all worked out in the end” Azriel said.
The night went on and his hand never left your hip, he pulled you as close to him as he could whenever he felt a male came too close to you. You adored his possessiveness. Now you just needed to feel like you’d earned it.
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The two of you spent almost every day together after the ball. It didn’t take him long to introduce you to the rest of his family. The inner circle of the Night Court.
Your father had told you the stories of both their power and their beauty, but despite all the stories, they were kind, welcoming and warm. You felt right at home.
At no point did you regret making contact with him the night of the ball. In fact you could feel yourself falling in love with Azriel, a little more every day.
He adored you, and he spared no expenses in showing you exactly how much you meant to him. Everytime he came home from a mission, he would bring you flowers from the given court. He would either make you homemade meals, or take you out to eat at the most beautiful restaurants in the city.
He would take you on flights over Valaris, on walks near the Sidra or just down to the nearest cafe or bakery to pick up something sweet or warm whenever you felt a little down. Apart from that he spoiled you rotten with gifts, to such a degree you almost had more diamonds than Amren.
You were however your happiest whenever you woke up to him by your side, and nothing beat the beauty that was his eyes as they reflected the morning sun. They were like liquid gold. He was beautiful, and sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all a dream.
As time went on he opened more and more up to you. He told you about his life, both the good and the bad. About his childhood, who he had become after Rhys and Cassian had found him. He told you about his role in the court as both shadowsinger and spymaster, and how he had days where he loathed who he was and what he had done, and others where he celebrated the screams he carved from the lungs of his prisoners.
And despite his fears you didn’t flee or coward when he reached out for you. You had instead held him, and whispered sweet nothing in his ear, confirming that you loved him despite all he had gone through, and that you loved him because of who he was. He had cried in your arms at your words.
You saw him, all of him and you loved both the good and the bad.
At no point had you ever expected to be with a man of his profession, but here you were. The people of Valaris were quick to catch on. They always greeted the two of you, they helped you with picking his gifts and selecting his favorite sweets at the bakery he loved to visit each sunday morning.
The fact that you got to be his in Valaris of all places, was more than enough. Being out and public to all fae, to all courts, would only paint a target on your back. One that he feared would take you from him too soon, whereas you feared that you would be used against him. You had no interest in ever letting it come to that.
After All you wanted nothing more than to protect him, to keep him safe, and he felt the same. He had given you one of his shadows, the rouge that had left his side that night of the ball. After all it seemed like it liked you more than him anyways, but this way he would know if you were ever in any kind of danger.
Nesta had told him it was a little much, especially since the two of you were basically joined at the hip, it was rare that you saw one of you without the other. You were one soul separated into two people. It was clear for all to see.
The inner circle had quickly started making bets on just when the bond would snap for the two of you. And despite the fact that you always rolled your eyes when they began speculating, you couldn’t help but hope that they were right.
Your brother had his mate, and so did Azriels brothers. It would only be right if the two of you had one too right? And if so why wouldn’t the Cauldron grant you eachother? With every fiber of your being you hoped that he was yours and that you were his.
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One morning you stood in the courtyard at the house of wind as the sun was slowly rising from its usual hiding place beneath the horizon. Azriel was circling you, wearing nothing but his boots and leather pants.
The look of his tattoos and his muscles were now covered with sweat that was glistening in the morning sun, was enough for you to skip practice and go back to bed with him. You wanted nothing more than to be entangled in him and his scent.
The sun that shone through the fine membrane of his wings made him look like a god of death and war. What a sight to see. He sent you a dazzling smirk as he saw the pure lust and adoration in your eyes. He most likely smelled it on you as well.
You smirked back and sent him a little wave. But it wasn't enough for him to lose focus on his task at hand. It rarely was.
“You look so beautiful angel,” he said. Despite what you might’ve thought he couldn’t help but adore you in the morning light either. He was mere seconds away from abandoning his workout only to throw you over your shoulder and have his way with you. Where that would be, he didn’t care. You chuckled. It was his favorite sound in the entire world, and he hoped that he would always be the one to make you laugh.
And then you felt it. It was as if the world shifted on its axis, it was like it had been so many months ago. It was the same feeling you had the first time you had left him. And as the memories came rushing back to you, you paled.
As your smile dropped and your eyes became distant, almost as if a fog now hid them from the world. “Y/N…?” You heard his fear and desperation as he said your name.
“Promise me you’ll find me, promise me” It was all you could say, you struggled with getting the words out as you felt yourself drifting from this reality. You saw him spring towards you, his wings giving him momentum.
And then everything went dark.
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When you woke up the darkness was still surrounding you. You laid there with your eyes closed for a few minutes as you tried to recall his features, his name, where you had been. But there was nothing, nothing except an ache in that place that usually held your heart.
All you remembered was the feeling of running your hands through his hair, how his lips sent electricity down your spine as he kissed that sweet spot right beneath your ear, whenever he snuck up behind you. You remember his rough hands, and a feeling of something cold that you couldn’t quite place. Everything else was a blur.
As you opened your eyes you looked towards the small clock that stood on your bedside table. 06:45. You had to get up soon, but the mere thought of leaving your bed made your head spin. It felt like you had lost something precious, it felt like you had lost your heart, and in its stead there was now only a black hole filled with nothing but emptiness and pain.
You had no idea how to start your day, it felt like you should stay right here, stay at home and mourn the loss of him.
Maybe he remembers, maybe he will be able to find me. You thought as you tried soothing the emptiness in your chest by rubbing the palm of your hand over where it ached.
But how could he? He was after all only a figment of your imagination, he was after all only a character in your dream. But he felt real, and you could nothing but hope that someone, someday would ever love you as unconditionally as he had.
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At the other end of Prythian, Azriel Shadowsinger, Spymaster of the Night Court, had woken with such pain in his chest that he for a second had been convinced he had been stabbed in his sleep. And as his dream, no his memories of you, flooded his senses he knew what he needed to do.
You had to be real, he needed you to be real. So he sent out his shadows in search of the one person who now held his heart, the one person he would never stop looking for, you, his mate.
I promise you angle, I will find you
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note: aaaaah this is my first ever acotar fic! don't be afraid to leave feedback, I would very much appreciate it! I feel like a part two would be absolutely amazing, but maybe I'll just do it as a stand alone since it's kind of heartbreaking. But we'll see!
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bettyfrommars · 8 months
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Dirty Metal Summer
a Dirty Dancing au
masterlist playlist
Part 2: The Hideout
You follow Robin over the resort property line to a place where guests are forbidden and get a glimpse of what goes on behind the scenes.
word count: 3.6k
My blog is 18+ONLY, mature themes, violence, alcohol consumption, eventual smut, fighting, mention of blood, reader is called Bird as a nickname, reader plays the cello. Reader is 21, Eddie is late 20's.
Songs for this chapter: Animal (fuck like a beast)//W.A.S.P. No one like you//Scorpions Mental Health (bang your head)//Quiet Riot Wasted Years//Iron Maiden
a/n: it has been so much fun to pull this out of the rubble and jump back into this world for a rewrite, I hope you enjoy. To my I'm on Fire peeps, there will be a scene in this chapter that feels very similar to something that happened in IOF, and that's because I originally stole it from this fic, thinking I'd never post it, lmao. Thought about changing it, but it's just too perfect. Plus, there will always be a hint of biker Eddie in all of my Eddies.
Sticking close behind Robin, you crossed the arc of a walking bridge over a creek and disappeared on a worn path through the trees.  It was only then that you could finally make out the building where the loud music was coming from.  
It had corrugated metal sides and roof, like a structure you might see on a farm that housed large equipment.  There was a picnic table out front where a few people were seated, and the shell of a vintage automobile with bullet holes in it sat in the weeds.
A little more than a city block away was a modest cabin made from actual logs with an old truck, a van, and a motorcycle parked out front.
“Who lives there?” You nudged Robin.
She stopped to see where you were looking first, and then, “oh yeah, that’s Wayne’s place.  The head maintenance guy.  This is his too,” she gestured to the metal building where the music and shouts were coming from.  “Both him and his nephew Eddie.  Have you met Eddie?”
You absolutely knew who he was, but didn’t want to come off as a stalker, so you shook your head.  
The large sliding door entrance to the building was open about a foot, letting out wafts of smoke and a hazy, golden light.  From over Robin’s shoulder, you could see quite a few bodies moving around in there, and just then came the sound of a glass breaking.  
“Ready?” She smiled back at  you, struggling to hold everything in her arms as she reached for the handle to slide the door open the rest of the way.  
“Let me?” You lurched forward.
“I got it,” she insisted, fumbling one of the guitars before catching it again with a gasp of relief.
You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting to see when she eased the door open the rest of the way, but a topless woman dancing on a table top was not one of them. 
Her hair was bleached blonde, frizzy and teased around her face.  She was tan with a prominent bikini line over her pert breasts, and it looked like she’d just pulled the top of her leopard print spandex dress down to give a little show.  
The song Animal (Fuck like a beast) by W.A.S.P. was blaring and the guys around the table cheered while the woman flipped her hair and worked her hips in a circle.  You were sure you recognized her as one of the waitresses from earlier that night. 
Metalheads of all kinds were crowded together, mingling, and you feared that you stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. Some were in leather; some wore jean vests with pins and patches all over them.  A handful had long hair that they must’ve tied back or wore under hats while they worked at the resort, but a few of them, like Steve, kept theirs short and tidy, for the most part.  Overhead string lights swayed from high wooden beams, and a chandelier that looked like it was made out of wrenches.  An old, pea green Kelvinator refrigerator and a small kitchenette was to your left, as if someone had lived there at one point, and two couches sat against the wall that were mismatched and worn.  
Most of the crowd of people seemed to be lingering together in the middle, standing there as if waiting for something.  Taking shots, smoking blunts, and making out with each other, blocking you from seeing beyond them.  
Robin signaled to follow her, and you were hesitant to start moving through the masses, holding the guitar case flush to your body, feeling like it was something to hide behind.  You noticed posters on the walls for bands like Judas Priest and Metallica, and on the concrete floor you saw smudges from white chalk markings, dark splotches the color of dried blood, but that was ridiculous.  
You pushed between a girl with a blue mohawk and a guy with a shaved head that was covered in tattoos in a hurry to keep up with your escort, and the two shot you a hard glare.  When you could finally see the far wall, there was an oval, threadbare carpet in the corner with a drum kit set up, three microphones, two amps, and some other equipment that suggested live music would soon be happening.  
“This is where they practice!” Robin shouted over the music, directing you where to put Eddie guitar down.  “We call it The Hideout.”
“'Where who practices?’ You set Eddie’s baby near the wall where she told you to.  
“Eddie and Chrissy’s band,” she motioned for you to stand over at the wall with her. 
“Oh,” you turned to look at the instruments again, heart flopping a little at the idea he would show up at any moment.  “They're playing tonight?”
There was a commotion up ahead and you both turned to look. "Later maybe! The fights are tonight,” again, yelling over the growl of the music.  Now the song was No One Like You by Scorpions, and it sounded like people were cheering at someone who’d just come through the door. 
“Fights?” You leaned in to get more information when everyone started pushing back to make room for whatever was about to happen.  You remembered that one of the guys on the porch earlier that day with Chrissy and Steve had a black eye, and you’d noticed another worker at the resort who had a busted lip, but you hadn’t paused to think that maybe they were somehow connected.
It was then that you saw Eddie appear from out of the sea of bodies, and took a sharp intake of breath, holding it in, afraid to let it out for fear you might whimper.  
He was so beautiful, it made you dizzy. You stood up straight, adjusting yourself, covertly checking to make sure you weren’t perspiring too badly.
He was wearing the tux he’d had on for the show earlier, but the tie and cummerbund were both gone, and his white shirt was unbuttoned almost to his stomach.  You caught a glimpse of tattoos on his chest, and a necklace of some sort. Someone handed him a beer and he threw back a generous gulp.  
“There’s going to be boxing? Here? Tonight?” You were trying to act casual and not stare at him the whole time, but it was hard to tear your attention away.  
“Nothing professional,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest, putting her shoulder blades against the wall.  “Just your average bare knuckle street fighting, basically. The guys were doing it to blow off steam, but then some others got involved and people started placing bets, so a whole thing started.”
Eddie unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and took it off, passing it to someone in the crowd.  Your mouth went dry at the sight of his lean muscles under the scattered ink.  He kept his hair tied back and started wrapping white tape around one of his hands while Steve said something in his ear.  
“How do they choose who fights who?” You were invested now, wringing Robin out for any information she had.  
“I don’t know how they figure it out, but the new guys usually fight each other, and then a winner challenges Eddie or Steve or Alex,” she pushed off the wall to get a better look at the center of the room. “But it looks like Eddie is up first.” And then with a smirk she added, “all of the new hotshots at the resort think they can beat Eddie.”
“Can they?” Your voice cracked, eyes locked on the scene.  A guy shorter than Eddie but muscular in a football player type of way, was also shirtless in the circle now, with taped hands and wearing a pair of sweats with the name of a university down the leg. The guy was hopping from foot to foot to keep himself hyped up, punching the air in front of him.
“No one beats Eddie,” there was pride in her voice.  “Looks like the guy he’s fighting tonight is Lance, one of the new ski instructors.  Totally full of himself.”
Steve was wearing a white wife beater and jeans, and he raked a hand through his mop of hair just before pointing in your direction.  Eddie’s gaze followed the line of his finger directly to your stunned face, and then it lingered there.
He seemed to contemplate, wetting his lips, and then he nodded to Steve and was on his way over.
He didn’t have to push people out of the way because they were all quick to part to make room for him.  It wasn’t long before he was standing right in front of you.  You tried not to let your gaze linger on the full curve of his slightly chapped lips, or the way his wavy bangs framed his cherrywood eyes.  On closer inspection, you could see that the necklace he wore was a ball chain with a guitar pick hanging from it.  
Robin opened her mouth to say something, possibly introduce you, but Eddie cut her off.  
“What the hell are you doing here, Princess?” His voice was low with an edge of irritation.  He pulled the chunky metal rings off his fingers one by one as he spoke.
Robin cleared her throat, stepping forward. “She’s with me,” she stuttered a bit nervously, knowing full well she shouldn’t have brought you there.  “She came with me, she’s cool.”
Eddie collected all of the rings in his fist and kept staring at you as if he wanted to hear it from your mouth, not Robin’s.  
Your brain short-circuited for a second and you forgot how to form words when he was so close you could see the detail of the dragon tattoo on his chest.  But then, finally, it came to you:
“I-I carried your baby.”
The second it slipped out, you knew how stupid it sounded.
Unblinking, he gave his rings to Robin, and then he was gone.
You stared at the space where he no longer stood, flushed with embarrassment.  
“I carried your baby?” You repeated in a whisper, covering your face with your hands. 
Someone turned the music down so that Steve’s voice could be heard, and he waved his arms in the air to get everyone’s attention.  
“I don’t have to explain the rules to you, because there are none,” his announcement was met with screams and cheers.  Robin tugged at your arm, signaling for the two of you to get a bit closer to the action.  “First one to hit the ground for whatever reason is the loser.  Just fists, no blades or other stupid tricks.”
At one side of the circle of bodies, Lance the ski instructor was practicing some tight punches, and at the other end, Eddie rolled his neck while Chrissy finished taping the knuckles of his other hand.  It was then that the chalk and the stains on the concrete you saw earlier made sense.  
“You two ready?” Steve put his arm up between them, waiting for their nods, and then, at their signal, he chopped his hand down between them as if he were slicing the air.  
Lance was hopping from foot to foot, trying his best to look like some fancy footwork he saw in a Rocky movie, while Eddie walked casually, giving the guy a hooded, bored stare.  
Eddie could read Lance like a book.  A fight was a lot more than just a mindless throwing of hands, there was a mental prowess and skill needed that a lot of the punks busing in from suburbia did not have.  Street smarts was one thing, and Eddie surely had that, but he’d been fighting bullies off since he was a kid, and Wayne taught him to fight like it was a game of chess.
Eddie could tell where Lance was going to go a second before he made the move. He saw the guy was amped up, letting his emotions fight for him, and that was only one of his first mistakes.
Lance charged at him and swung, but Eddie was already steps away; relaxed and agile, holding his guard up. The ski instructor came at him aggressively, again and again, until Eddie pushed him, making his opponent stumble back. 
Keeping his form, Eddie caught you standing there out of the corner of his eye.
…what were you doing there at the Hideout?
He let himself ponder that question for too long and Lance was on him again, aiming a left jab to his ribs, and Eddie absorbed the blow with a grunt, arching to the side. 
You were not supposed to be there.  What was Robin thinking?
Mostly, Brenner and Joyce stayed out of their business, as long as whatever they did was off resort property, but if they found out one of the guests was somehow involved, there would be hell to pay.  
Lance charged again and Eddie dodged, angry at himself for not being able to focus .
“C’mon Lance, stomp that freak,” someone yelled from the crowd. 
And that was all it took
For Eddie to get tired of dragging it out for betting purposes.
Lance charged forward with a cry and Eddie socked an uppercut into his unsuspecting jaw.  
The surfer boy went down
Hard. 
Saliva and blood flew from his mouth as he flailed back, arms going ragdoll.
It felt like it happened in slow motion but soon enough, Lance was splayed out like a starfish on the concrete floor.
“Goodnight sweet prince,” Steve said sarcastically as he collected bets over the ski instructor’s limp body.
Robin cheered with her hands over her head, and you gave a few slow claps, your brain barely able to register where you were or what you were seeing.
“You want a beer?” She asked as you watched Lance numbly get to his feet with the help of two friends and attempt to shake it off.  
Robin motioned for you to follow her around to the refrigerator which was stocked from top to bottom with nothing but beer cans. She handed you one and then went to lean against the side of the appliance, cracking open the tab with a hiss.
With your back to the crowd, you prepared to follow suit, listening to Steve introduce two more fighters.
But then there was someone at your side,
“Not like that,” a voice said.
Eddie had come up behind you, wearing his white shirt unbuttoned, skin still glistening with sweat. Mental Health (Bang Your Head) by Quiet Riot came over the speakers, eliciting a wave of yelps and screams from the group.  
“Wait,” he put his hand on top of yours to keep you from opening your beer while he motioned for another guy to toss him one.  You turned to seek comfort or guidance from Robin, but she was absorbed in conversation with a girl in a platinum pixie cut who’d just walked up.  
“Like this,” he brushed his bangs to the side, and winked as he fished a ring of keys out of his pocket.  He used the serrated metal edge of one to punch a hole at the bottom of the can.  
It was the wink that made your skin flush hot, and then your jaw went slack as you watched him wrap his lips around the newly made hole in the can.  He made eye contact with you one more time before tipping his head back, and cracking the tab of the beer open with his thumb so that the liquid when squirting down his throat.  
The muscles in his throat jerked as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.  
It wasn’t three seconds before he lowered his head and crushed the can in his hand to show it was empty.  He let out a refreshing, “ahhhh,” and darted his tongue out to lick a droplet from his chin.  
You were still holding your unopened beer, waiting for him, mouth dry.  “I-I’m not sure I—”
Yes, you knew what shotgunning a beer was, you’d seen it done plenty of times at college parties and in movies, but had never been tempted to try it yourself.  
Ignoring your hesitation, Eddie motioned with the crook of his finger for you to come closer.  You shuffled to be within reach of him as if your knees were locked in place.  
With a gentle touch, fingers brushing yours, he took your beer from you, wiped it off with his shirt, and then proceeded to make the same hole with his key in the aluminum.  Some of the beer sprayed up and misted your face.
“Here we go,” he tipped your chin with his finger and butterflies swarmed in your stomach as his eyes searched yours. “Just let it shoot into the back of your throat.”
You swallowed nervously to make sure your throat was working, and then wrapped your lips around the can at his instruction.
“Easy, just like that, hold it there,” Eddie was so close now that your elbow was touching his bare chest.  He put a hand on the back of your head.  “When I say, tip your head back all the way, and I’ll flip the tab for you.”
You swiped your tongue over the hole in the can, thinking about how embarrassing it would be if you messed it up and beer went shooting out of your nose.  
Robin offered a few words of encouragement and you noticed a tendril of hair clinging to the sweat on Eddie’s neck, right over the heartbeat in his throat.  
“You ready?”
You weren’t but—-
“Okay, now.”
You closed your eyes, slammed your head back, and prayed, even though you weren’t at all religious.  Some lukewarm beer leaked onto your tongue, and then Eddie pulled the tab, keeping one hand over yours to hold the can steady.  
The gush of liquid hissed and exploded down your throat, and for a second you thought you would choke, but then your swallowing reflex bolted into action and it was over so fast.  
You gasped and swiped beer from your chin when you pulled away to look at the empty can, amazed. 
Eddie cupped his warm hand around the back of your neck, and you felt him shift closer until his mouth was at your ear.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
An actual chill ran down your spine.
Robin put up her hand and you gave you a high five.  “Not bad for a first timer,” she joked.  “Now crush it on your forehead and grunt.”
“Ha. Ha.” 
You turned to Eddie, “that was fun maybe he should—”
You were about to say the two of you should do another one, 
but he was gone.  
—----
The next night, Eddie couldn’t sleep, so he decided to head to the property to finish up some work at the pool house.   
The place he shared with Wayne was close enough to walk to the Hawkins Landing property, but that night, he drove.  He wanted to roll the window down on the van and blast Wasted Years by Iron Maiden and belt out the lyrics.  
He slipped into the parking lot for visitors and employees, turning the music down so that it wouldn’t be heard by any of the nearby cabins.  There were two street lamps on, but a third one he noticed was out, and made a mental note that he’d have to get Jamie to fix it tomorrow.  The sidewalks along the manicured lawn were also lined with lights that came out of the ground like little mushrooms, and the boat dock far off to his left was lit, but other than that, he was in the dark.  
Grabbing his red toolbox from the passenger seat, he put a flashlight in his tool belt holster, and the van door creaked on its hinges just before it banged shut.  His ribs still ached from the punch he took the night before, but he only allowed himself to cringe and curse in private. Luckily, his only companions at that moment were the crickets and the lapping of the water against the bank.
It wasn’t until he was a few yards down the sidewalk, head down, lost in thought, that the din of classical music made him halt in his tracks. 
It was definitely strings, possibly a violin? No, it was too deep.  
He looked up at the main house, but the sound was much too close to be coming from way up there.
He cut to the right and up the grass.
Then he saw the attic light on in cabin #11.
He told himself not to bother, but as the passion of the playing increased, curiosity got the better of him.  
He came right up to your driveway, staying half obscured by a tree trunk, and watched you.
The cello, of course that’s what you were playing.  He was no expert on the classics, but he’d always learned music by ear and had a unique sense for identifying instruments.  
You weren’t reading from sheet music, you were just playing while you stared out at the sky.
Playing something by heart, or making it up as you went along, he wasn’t sure.  
In his mind, you were so far out of league, it was criminal.
Your attention broke when a sudden movement down on the road startled you.  
The bow zipped clumsily across the strings one last time, and you stood up to get closer to the open window.
But, your eyes must’ve been playing tricks on you. 
There was no one there.    
-----
Hi hello! thank you so much for reading! For those wondering, this fic will still be centered around music, not boxing, but the little fight club they have has a lot to do with the spin of the plot soon.
thank you all so much for the suppport! we are getting to the juicy parts now! give me those hungry eyes. comments and reblogs are cherished!! like, I live for them.
-------
taglist: @tlclick73@micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch
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compos mentis 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: ookay here we go with this guy.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The restaurant is buzzing with voices. It adds the disorienting ripple in your head. It feels like there’s something crawling over your scalp as you try to blink away the haziness. It’s just fatigue. That never goes away, only ebbs and flows. 
You sit on the leather cushion of the curled bench. The booth is lit by a small chandelier hanging above and the plucking of strings strums under the drone of patrons. The sconces against the wall are blurry and bright and the people all around are merely shadows. 
The server appears and doles out the food. You got the butternut squash soup with a French bread roll. With the weather turning chill, it sounded delicious. Besides, you don’t have the stomach for anything heavy. 
You glance over at Andy’s thick sirloin and your mother’s glazed chicken. Your hunger roars in your stomach. You shakily unwrap the cutlery from the cloth napkin and thank the server as your mother taps her glass. The man, in his pressed white shirt, smiles and pours her some more. Andy clicks his tongue but says nothing. 
“Anyone else?” The server offers. 
“We’re good,” Andy answers for both of you. 
You could laugh, if you had the energy. Anyone would look at you and know you shouldn’t be indulging. No, you have your lemon water and that’s good enough. 
“This looks delicious,” your mother chirps and takes a gulp of chardonnay, a hum at the flavour. “Oh, that is divine too.” 
“I hope you enjoy. Both of you,” Andy says. “I know you had a busy day.” 
His elbow touches yours, almost as if it’s intentionally. You look at his shoulder but no higher. You steady the spoon over the bowl and dip it into the soup. You lean forward to taste as your mouth jabs into one of the slices of grilled chicken. 
“Mm, the maple is nice but a bit much,” she complains after a sampling. 
Andy exhales slowly, measuring his breath as if to conceal his sigh. It’s strange. He seems annoyed by your mother more often than not and yet he takes her out for dinner and got her that fancy ring. You don’t understand relationships. Not past the shallow ones written onto the screen. You probably won’t ever know the real thing. 
You rest your spoon on the wide brim and take a piece of the bread. It’s still warm and it smells wonderful. You pinch off a morsel and dip it into the creamy broth. You nibble on it, resisting the urge to shovel it down. 
“You sure the soup’s enough?” Andy asks. Again. He questioned you when you ordered an appetizer over and entree. He even offered to get an appetizer for the table instead. 
“Oh, sweetie,” your mother swallows around her words. “You know she doesn’t eat very much. Her stomach is so sensitive. And look, that’s such a lot of soup. She probably won’t even finish the bread.” 
You nod. You could gobble it all down but you know better. You’ve been sick before from letting your appetite deceive your mind. She’s right. You’ll be full soon enough. Your stomach always starts to ache after a few bites. 
“Ah, sorry. I don’t mean to pester. I just want to make sure you have everything you like. If you wanted a piece of my steak, I think there’s a lot more than I need here,” he chuckles and cuts into the sirloin. 
“Oh, she can’t have red meat. Too heavy for her,” your mother tuts. “Really, Andrew, you are so sweet to offer though.” 
“Yes, thanks,” you murmur as you squish bread between your fingers. You’re suddenly very conscious of every bite you take. 
“So, any more doctor’s appointments?” He asks. “I could come along next time? Since we’re gonna be one big family. I’d like to help out if I can. All this work shouldn’t be on you, Danica.” 
“Oh, my,” your mother slurps more wine. “You really are a dream,” she touches his sleeve. “That would be wonderful. Nothing this week though. Just next month but she does need her script filled. If you don’t mind getting that, it would be a great help.” 
You want to shrink into a speck of dust. You hate it. You’re rarely ever included in conversation. Not for real. You’re only ever the topic of discussion, like you’re not even there. 
“Mom, I told you,” you insist and wipe soup from your oxygen tube. “I can go get it. It isn’t very far.” 
“No, no, no. I told you before. You cannot take the bus. It’s absolutely out of the question. You could get caught on something or worse, you could fall.” 
“Hm, that’s... she’s an adult, Danica, if she wanted to--” 
“Andrew, you don’t know the risks. I do.” 
He opens his mouth then shuts it. His lips thin as he holds back his retort. He saws into the steak. 
“Well,” he looks at you, “if you’d like to come along, I can always drive you.” 
“I can just do it myself,” your mom insists sharply. 
“Relax,” he warns. “She wants to do it herself, she can. She’s not entirely helpless, is she?” 
You chew your lip. Your mother has that look. The dangerous one. Andy’s never seen what it can truly lead to. 
“Whatever is less trouble,” you utter and focus on your soup. “Sorry.” 
“Sorry for what?” Andy challenges, “you did nothing.” 
You nod and take another spoonful. It’s really good but you can’t truly enjoy it. You just want to go home. Away from these strangers. Home where you can be alone. Where you can put some walls between you and your mom. You know you’ve already ruined her night just by being there. 
🩷
Your mother almost finishes the bottle. That’s not unusual but since she met Andy, it’s less frequent. As you leave the restaurant, she’s leaning heavily on him, her heels click unevenly as one shoe keeps slipping loose. You follow, clutching tight the handle of your tank. 
You stop by the SUV as your mother purrs and wraps her arm around Andy. She squeezes his butt and you look away, slowing as you try not to intrude. He flinches and pushes her away, clearing his throat. 
“Danica,” he girds quietly, “please, not here. You’re drunk.” 
“I’m not, I feel good,” she slurs. 
Embarrassment scalds across your chest and down your spine. You never wanted anyone else to see her like this. You know it’s not her fault. It’s yours. She’s stressed from taking care of you and gets a little carried away trying to unwind. 
“You’re all over,” Andy gets her to the passenger door as she staggers clumsily, “come on.” 
He angles her around with one arm around her back and opens the door. He gets her into the seat as she giggles and her hand flutters down his shirt. He pulls away as he catches her hand before she can get any lower. You linger by the back of the car and act like you’re not watching. 
He mutters but you can’t make out his words. He clicks the seat belt around your mom and slams the door. You wince and the wheel of your tank squeaks. He sighs and his shadow turns to you. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he opens the backdoor, “come on. I’ll get you two home.” 
You nod and come forward, head and shoulders down. “Thanks,” you drag your tank with you, “sorry.” 
“Sorry, for?” He wonders. 
You sniff and shake your head. You don’t know how to answer. How do you explain the truth to him?
“Here,” he reaches for your tank as you say nothing. “Let me help.” 
You have to keep from crying out and reach to shove him away. You’re overly protective. You have to be. That’s what keeps you going and you’re just not used to other people touching it. He lifts it as he nudges you gently. 
You grab the side of the door and haul yourself up. You heave as you fall into the seat, light-head and he fits the tank in in front of you. He reluctantly lets it go and tickles your knee. 
“You okay?” He asks. 
You watch his hand. You nod and grab the seat belt, “fine.” 
“Hmm, I should probably look into some more accessible, huh?” 
“No, no,” you protest weakly. “I manage.” 
“Well, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have to just manage. You should be comfortable. That’s why I took your case.” He brings his hand up and surprises you as he brushes your cheek. You twitch. “You like dinner?” 
“Yes, sir,” you answer and flatten yourself to the seat. “Thank you.” 
He hums and tickles your skin before he recoils. He draws back and grabs the door. He gently shuts it as his eyes cling to you. Your heart is racing. You’re breathless yet that isn’t so unusual. 
He gets in the front seat and your mother babbles and reaches for him again. He swats her back and starts the car. She mutters and slumps into the door. 
“Danica,” he says. She doesn’t respond. He repeats it louder. She snorts. He curses under his breath. You’re happy she passed out, it’s worse when she doesn’t. 
You sit in silence as Andy backs out of the space. He looms rigidly as you shrink as small as you can. Usually, he’s nice. He has this way about him that you assume comes from being a lawyer. He makes himself approachable. But not right now. He’s agitated. You can feel it fuming off of him. 
“I’m sorry,” you eke out as the tension strangles you. 
“You don’t need to apologise for her,” he insists with another sigh. 
“But... she drinks because of me. I know.” You say. “Because I’m sick.” 
He clucks and squeezes the wheel tighter. “No, that’s a bad excuse. She’s an adult.” 
You don’t argue. There’s no reason too. For once, someone isn’t blaming you. Besides, how far did it ever get you. 
He drives on and you turn to watch the dark buildings pass outside the window. The moon is a sliver above and the stars a speckle around the wisps of clouds. You stare up into the expanse, admiring the streaks of dark blue, black, and grey. 
As the car slows, you tear your eyes from the sky. You blink in confusion. You’re not at your house, but Andy’s. You’ve been there once before.  
He shuts the engine off then sits back and spreads his hand across his forehead, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I just realised I’m at the wrong house.” 
You stay silent. You thought your mom was asleep. He turns to look at you as he flicks on the compartment light. You squint at the sudden brightness. He means you. 
“Do you need anything at your house?” He asks. “Medicine or...” 
“It’s... in my pack,” you touch the belt bag across your stomach. “Tank’s mostly full.” 
He nods and looks you over, “I’m sorry. It’s been a long night. You don’t mind the guest room?” 
You shake your head. You don’t want to make his life any harder. And he should apologise to you. No one does that. They don’t owe you that. 
“Alright, again, I know it’s not easy for you. Probably a lot cozier at home,” he turns straight and shuts off the light. “Let me get your mom inside.” 
He unbuckles his seat belt and his keys jingle as he opens his door. You click the button on your belt and pull the handle. You push outward and the door is pulled from the other side. Andy appears in front of you. He helps get your tank to the ground and offers his hand. 
You don’t want to be rude so you let him help you down. You wheel around your tank as he shuts the door, the opens the passenger side. He ducks into the car and drags your mom out. He stands straight and shuts the door with his elbow. 
“Sorry to ask but could you unlock the door? Code is...” he gives you the numbers and you blink as you try to keep track of them. 
“Okay,” you nod and shuffle past him as he waits. You go up the walk and lift your tank up the low stone steps. You’re overly aware of him behind you. 
You get to the door and stare at the keypad. As you enter the numbers, you realise they’re familiar. It must be a coincidence. In a certain format, they would denote your birthday. The pad flashes green and the door clicks. 
You push down the lever and step back out of the way. 
“Go on,” he nods. 
“No, it’s okay,” you say. “Mom needs to lay down.” 
He looks down at the woman in his arms then at you. Even in the dark, you see his disappointment. Again, you can’t help but wonder why he puts up with her. You have no choice, as she has no choice in taking care of you, but he does. 
“You’re a good daughter,” he says as he slowly steps past you. 
You trail after him, your tank bouncing through the door, and you shut it behind you. You stand on the mat and roll your wheels back and forth, trying to get the excess dirty from them. Then you sit to take off your shoes. 
“You can turn on a light,” Andy chuckles as his shadow looms over you.  
You stare up at his silhouette. He’s close. He must not realise it in the dark. You turn and flip the switch.  
He smiles as he keeps a hold of your mom, “I’ll put her on the couch for now,” he says, “then I’ll get you settled.” 
You nod and bend to move your shoes onto the rack. You don’t look up again. You’re hot. Very hot, even though cool air flows from the vent just across from you. It’s just because you’re used to being at home. That’s it. 
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jo-speaks · 2 months
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dinner
in which…
Quinn and fem! reader go out to dinner!
warnings: none!
fourth date in the alphabet dates series!
“All clear?” You asked from inside the car before taking Quinn’s hand and stepping out. 
He let out a soft laugh, “Yes ma’am. No paparazzi, no fans, no nothing. Just you and me.”
“And the staff.”
“And the staff.” He parroted, shutting the passenger door of his Porche closed. 
It wasn’t a shock when Quinn told you he had set reservations for the Canadian restaurant you had been dying to try since flying out to be with him in Vancouver for the season. He didn’t understand what drew you to the place. It was overwhelming, with its rooftop seating, and its whimsical dishes. 
However, the shock came when he told you it would just be the two of you. He loved keeping your relationship decently private, with a few posted pictures here and there, but mostly keeping it between you and him. 
As much as you wanted to show off your boyfriend to the world, you knew keeping it private was best. It wasn’t like people didn’t know you were his girlfriend, but social media is a vile place. 
You and Quinn walked up the short flight of stairs toward the restaurant entrance, toothy smiles covering both of your faces the whole way up. When you reached the door, Quinn let go of your hand briefly to open the door for you, quickly re-interlacing your fingers with his the second you stepped inside. 
“Excited?” He asked, following your trail of sight as you looked up at the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling. 
“Very. Thank you.” 
He smiled widely at your response, “I should be thanking you. This view is to die for.”
You assumed he was talking about the breathtaking decor all around the restaurant, but when you flickered your eyes back to his, you realized he was looking at you. 
He eyed your lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss you right then and there. But the second he leaned in, he heard his name being called. 
“Reservation for Hughes?” The hostess asked, holding 2 menus in her hand.
Quinn pulled back, a slight red blush on his face, “Uh, yeah. That’s me.” 
The hostess smiled, “You two can follow me.” 
You laughed softly at his reaction to being caught doing, nothing really. You kissed his lips quickly before tugging his hand gently as the two of you trailed behind the hostess. 
She led you two up the staircase and onto the rooftop. The view from your table was stunning. The sun was meant to be setting in a little less than an hour, so an array of pinks and blues covered the sky. 
“A waiter will be with you in just a moment.” She smiled before walking away. 
Quinn murmured quickly, “Thank you.” before focusing back on you. He didn’t say a word as he took your hand from across the table and gently ran his thumb over the back of your hand. Your eyes met his blue ones, a smile appearing on your face as he admired your features. 
“I’m so lucky to have you, Y/N. You have no idea.” He spoke, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 
You blushed at his words, “I love you.” 
He didn’t get the chance to say it back before a waiter approached your table with a smile.
~✩~
By the time you had finished your food, the sun was practically set, most of the light in the sky coming from scattered stars. You stood up without a word, walking over to the railing. 
You always knew Vancouver was a beautiful city, but seeing it at night was like nothing you’d ever seen before.
Colourful lights all over the city, the faint sound of street music being played in the distance. Quinn snuck up behind you, his suit-covered arms wrapping around your waist. You felt a shiver in your spine, unsure if it was because of the cool Canadian air, or the feeling of being so close to your boyfriend. 
He rested his chin on your shoulder, his stubble poking at your smooth skin. He tilted his head slightly, placing a sweet kiss on the side of your neck, before turning back to continue admiring the night view with you.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, eh? You look lost in thought.” He asked, softly.
You let out a quiet sigh, “Just thinking about you. About everything I would give to stay here with you forever.”
He smiled against your shoulder as you turned your head slightly to look at him. His eyes darted towards your lips before leaning in to connect your lips for the second time that night. You turned around, holding his face in your hands as his stayed gently on your waist.
The moment could not have been more perfect.
He couldn’t be more perfect.
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dutiful-wildcraft · 4 months
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Lies and Alibis
Have this totally unedited and margarita fueled piece of mafia!au nikolai x chubby!reader.
Part 2
It had been a survival tactic really, latching onto the bear of a man in a slick black suit, the gold chain around his neck glittering under the light of the chandelier. She’d done her best, slinking around in corners with a glass of champagne in her hand, trying to play at being casual at this lavish party she’d been sent to in the russian countryside. 
She had had a hell of a time trying to hunt down a suitable partner to go to the party with her. Someone who spoke english fluently enough meet her in the middle with her piss poor russian. She understood well enough, speaking was the problem, her accent clumsy. The little language app on her phone could only do so much. She should have known better really, should have caked on more makeup, wore a wig, something. But she’d realized her error to late as one too many suspicious eyes followed her about the place, one too many familiar faces watching her just out of the periphery of her vision. 
Better to at least attempt to camouflage herself, shifting her expression to one of vague confusion and worry. She’d spotted him through the crowd, big and bulky, with gorgeous brown eyes and a warm booming laugh. Black hair coiffed back neatly, the strands tickling his neck. He looked polite enough. So she feigned eureka. Slipping through the crowd and sliding her arm in his, praying to every god in existence that he would just be tickled to have a woman on his arm. 
Nikolai only stiffened a moment, hand shifting slightly toward his belt before dropping entirely as he took in the soft thing now clinging to his arm. She flashed him a sheepish smile, eyes pleading from under long pretty lashes. She certainly didn't belong here, all luxurious curves highlighted under a soft satin dress. He had his own mission to attend to, but one look at her face had him immediately following along with whatever sidequest this young lady was about to be. 
“Privet,  Zaychonok”  He greets, returning her smile with a warm one of his own, patting her hand against his forearm. Her relief is palpable as she scrubs her fingers against the fabric of his forearm. A subtle thanks as she takes a long swig from her glass.  He snags her another as the waiter passes, easing it into her hand smoothly. 
She’s beyond grateful that this russian saint, does all of the talking. He’s honestly a great conversationalist from what she can gather. He glosses over her arrival completely and continues casually, holding a glass of amber liquid in his free hand and keeping her hand tucked snuggly in the crook of his arm. She was supposed to be listening out for some sort of smuggling details, weapons, she was told, all she needed was a destination and that would be good enough. Naturally no such destinations are even mentioned, and when she ponders giving up, feigning a visit to the bathroom and shimmying out the door the large russian snakes an arm around her waist, guiding her along beside him as the group moves along. His palm is warm, and she can feel the rough edge of calluses through the thin satin fabric of her dress. 
Nikolai, she would come to learn, was up to as much good as she was. Of course he would be, she was at a fucking fancy dinner party for the god damn russian underground. Everyone here was either a politician or criminal, as if those things were different. It was both a worry and relief as Nikolai kept a firm hand against her side. As the group navigated toward a table, Nikolai pulled out her chair, sliding it close beside his own and taking her hand, guiding her down into seat like a gentleman before taking his seat beside her, unbuttoning his waist coat before settling. He leaned back,  draping an arm around her shoulders, settling an ankle against his knee as his fingers toyed with the strap of her dress. They looked like a regular couple, and she found herself a bit lost in the fantasy of it. Fake or not it had been some time since a man had held her this way, protective and possessive, with such nonchalance that it didn't feel suffocating. She didnt feel lesser next to this stranger, but cared for, watched over, with the underlying current that the man beside her can and most certainly has killed for less noble causes. 
The thought of it made something in her silly little brain purr and she leans against him, relaxing enough to play along just a bit more. For the bit of course. 
So much into the bit that she doesn't catch the conversation happening in her direction. Only blinks a bit owlishly as Nikolai looks at her with amusement. 
“Da, malyshka?” he asks with a chuckle. 
“Da” she chirps without delay, mustering up enough acting skills to at least repeat the simple affirmative with the correct lilt. 
Nikolai looks proud as he slides his fingers along her shoulder, cupping her neck in large palm, thumb petting along the baby hairs of her neck as he pulls her closer to his side in affectionate embrace. However rather than pull away, she stays there, cheek resting against his shoulder as he continues his petting. She feels warm against the man’s arm, safe and borderline sleepy, no longer concerned with the suspicious eyes that had followed her in the beginning of the night. Brave enough to legitimately excuse herself the the ladies room, she murmurs what she thinks is the correct phrase and he eases his arm away enough for her to wriggle out of the nest of his side. 
She’s washing her hands, listening to the soft music play through the corridor before an eerie silence has her freezing. The music stops, and all that can be heard is very angry sounding russian being barked across the music hall. She moves slowly, peering through the gap in the door to find her very saint throwing hands with far too many men to be a fair fight. Her bear sized knight crumpling to the floor when the butt of a rifle connects with his face.
Another man barks orders, pointing his finger across the hall. 
Nikolai was the first. And she was certainly next.
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