#I think when he said 'fight' he meant 'I've asked politely then just picked him out by his tail and stared at him until he gave up'
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ndostairlyrium · 1 month ago
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Cassandra: Cole, I found a locket on my pillow earlier... Cole: It was Anthony's. Cassandra: It was my grandmother's, actually, but it had Anthony's portrait inside. I thought I'd lost it. Cole: You did lose it. I had to fight a rat for it. Cassandra: Oh? Thank you. Cole: He wasn't a very big rat.
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...I'm feeling very normal about this exchange
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shaisuki · 4 months ago
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Could I request Kaiser with reader. The two of them are partners for a project when he offers her a brownie he made, (one that he drugged), she was hesitant but took it, once she felt a little intoxicated, he took advantage of her, despite her trying to push him off, her state made her weaker and unable to push him off as he did what he wanted with her. At the end, he blackmailed her with the recording he took of him taking advantage of her
contested cravings
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PAIRING. MICHAEL KAISER X CHUBBY READER
CONTENT WARNINGS. noncon + drugging, nonconsensual recording + groping and touching + kissing + blackmail + sabotage + penetrative sex + manipulation + cunnilingus.
SYNOPSIS. michael's is the bad news with his good looks and talent and the reason why you avoided him.
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class projects aren't bad not until you're paired with michael kaiser. the school's star athlete and the resident asshole if you must add. have a bad habit of belittling others that pisses most of the whole student body and only hangs out with alexis ness. whom may have developed an unhealthy obsession with the school's golden boy. following him like a lost pup and would skedaddle if kaiser shooed him off.
you found the dynamic between them unsettling and how could ness accepted being treated like that. you guess is just how they express their feeling or to make the other feel good about themselves and you kind of really don't care, not when michael is your partner. his blonde hair is streaked with baby blue highlights on the tips and that haircut that suits him.
you instantly averted your gaze when you see him walking towards you and pretends that you didn't notice him. feigning interest in a book that you have read over and over.
“at my place?” he asks, smoothing his blonde locks. “s-sure.” you answered him. a little worriedly than you have liked and it looks like you were hesitant and regretting your action towards him.
michael paid it no mind. people acted around him like he was a real total assholes and he is and you were no different from the reactions people have shown him. he just gave you a smile and left you to your own devices.
of course, he have a room for himself. he's the school's star athlete and it comes with privilege including personal spaces. you texted him earlier and there he is. opening his door for you to come in. you gave him a curt greeting. “can we start now?” you asked him. the sooner this project is done the better. you really don't want to be alone with michael. “does my presence annoys you that much?” he smirks, eyeing you in such lazy manner that your eyes widen at what he was saying. kaiser chuckles at your reaction. “just kidding. don't want to waste more than time. make yourself comfortable then.” pointing at his work table. the books and papers and pens are neatly arranged. you didn't took him to be the studious type regarding how he acts in the general but you have judged him too early and mentally slapped yourself for thinking that way and you were still suspicious that he is too polite to you.
“what?” pursing your lips in thin line. you shaked your head. “nothing, michael.” he ignores you and sat beside you. already grabbing the needed materials and you both began in silence.
working with michael isn't so bad. he wasn't his usual asshole self who picks fight at school and insults someone for how they look and their skill. michael's behavior placed you in a dangerous situation with him and interactions with him meant to break what little self-confidence you have. opposite he was. he was so good at following up instructions and have studied in advance. it looks like it was better that you should both have split the workload.
“oh i forgot, i would be a bad host if i didn't you offer you some food. i've gotten brownies in that newly opened bakery.” he said, taking off his round glasses he was wearing while you both worked. michael screams like he comes from old money from how he acts and it was totally out of character for him to offer you some refreshments.
he placed a tray of food in the table. consisting of various sweet treats and some drinks. “pick what you want, sweets.” the nickname made you cringed cause michael is really acting nice to you. something's very off at this whole situation. looking at the assortment of sweets in the tray. you hesitated but the look michael is giving you told you otherwise. so you grabbed one and took a bite. “good choice.” he praises you before grabbing a treat for himself.
the brownie's good. the chocolatey goodness melting in your mouth, bursting with flavor. you hum in delight to show your appreciation for the good food and michael nods. smiling a bit and slowly chews. you just only ate one. afraid that he'll comment something and you would rather die than have him say something. it took awhile before you both decided to pick up what's left of the work.
strangely, you have never been feeling so lightheaded before followed by a strange pounding on your head. you grasp the pencil you were holding and it only rolls away from you. you try grabbing it again and it feels like you were holding air. “is something wrong, (y/n)?” you follow the sound of the direction of the voice. why was kaiser is blurry to your vision. did h-he? you were unable to finish your muddled thoughts and even in such state you feel his lips to yours.
your lips is what he imagined to be. soft and plump with the right touch of sweetness. thanks to the brownies. heh. it wasn't really he brought. he put an effort to it just to have what's in front of him. the drug that ness brought him did work just like how he wanted it. you were still conscious and a bit aware of everything but is unable to do anything but he is quite surprised that you were still able to move a bit even it was just an attempt to push him off.
“i can't have you pushing me. i really worked for this.” is what you heard before you are being pushed slowly in his bed.
when you laid there in his bed. michael admires you like he was a painter of his greatest masterpiece. looking like some baroque period painting coming to life while your body's is temporarily incapacitated. his efforts have bore results and he's about to sow.
he begins to strip you. quite annoyed from the layers of clothing you wore. he knows it was fully intentional. not wanting to be called a slut nor a prude by him. he knows his harsh and he likes people when they cry and you were no exception of it. he could have bullied you. break you and pull you apart until you were left nothing but michael withstood all the desires of it cause he wanted you like this. helpless and needing of him.
his palms slowly glides through the expanse of skin. you were the definition of what he deemed perfection in his eyes. your perfectly fit in his and he was about to mold you from his very own hands. he can see the tears pricking in your eyes. glistening as you helplessly watch him defile you.
kaiser never liked giving and receiving. he only takes but what's between your legs leaves him hungry for it. the plushness of your fat pussy drooling with slick is enough to drive him crazy so he did what he did. giving your fat pussy a lick and he was hooked immediately. he continued to devour your pussy until he was satisfied besides his cock is really needing some relief and it was painful. he just found the right place to stick it on.
it was only the tiniest of moans and gasps coming from you but he sure enjoyed it. a symphony being composed and is a music to his hears he won't get tired of listening to. he grabbed and bite whatever his hands and mouth can get to. you were so fucking supple and divine. fitting for an emperor like him. the way your body jiggles and ripples with his very thrusts leaving him grunting and growling for more. your fat pussy is deliciously wrapped around his fat cock that it leaves a drooling mess to your cunt. he already has cummed many times and it squelches with every thrust along with your pussy. his cum being deposited inside of you.
michael glances at the clock. the night is still young and he was going savor all of it until the morning comes. he continues to assault your abused cunt. smiling to himself at the direction of where his phone is currently placed. he needs to commemorate this special occasion.
you were sore. your body screaming in pain while you grab the pieces of your clothing besides you. the tears uncontrollably running down your cheeks while you scramble to get your things and leave this hell hole that was michael's room. “why are you crying?” he asks, sipping a cup of coffee. dressed in his robe and his reading glasses resting in the tip of his nose. “fuck you, michael.” you seethed at the blonde. michael chuckles. “strong words coming from you.” he added.
you were about to grab the last belonging of yours before he interrupts you. “i believe you have a favor to ask me.” your eyes widens. he shows you a video of him repeatedly fucking you. putting you in different positions. “don't you dare, michael.” you warned him. “you fucking raped me, you son of a bitch.” michael didn't really like the tone of your voice and it just triggered something to him. he stands up and made his way to you. grasping your soft jaw in a tight manner. he forces a smile. “oh, i really am.” he taunts you. his blue eyes is filled with storm inside them. “defy me and you're getting this video leaked.”
“what the fuck you want?”
“watch your tone.” he warns before smiling.
“be mine and i'll let this thing disappear like it didn't happen.”
“fuck no.”
“oh really, such a shame. you were enjoying it. see?” he really made it look like you were having the best night of your life. he wipes the tears on your round cheeks.
“good.” he whispers. seeing the look in your face and it left him triumphant.
“don't leave. we really ain't done. i am still starting to enjoy it.”
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zmb1eslut · 7 months ago
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Never healing wounds.
I heard footsteps that sounded like mine,
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word count: 1,4K
synopsis: Whatever his mother knew, she knew her. A part of Luke wished he would never have to, yet there she was crawling in the forest.
A/N: Luke Castellan's POV
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Her name. It echoed in my mind like I was trapped in an empty and narrow space, as if I was being held down against my will to hear it over and over again. 
But it was just me, she was just there, with a smile on her face introducing herself. 
It wasn't even her voice the one I heard, but that question. The question that came almost every day when I came from school. 'How is your friend doing?' to then speak about a girl I've never even met. At one point, I just played along and said she was okay. Made up fake stories or lied about real ones. For my mother every girl looked like her. And for me, it was all the same. 
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I already knew about her. About a girl being here, I mean.
We were finishing a Senior Council Reunion and Chiron pulled Lee to the side and... maybe they didn't go far enough to avoid some prying ears to come by. And they were speaking about her, about an unstable girl they found in the forest without a protector. About how much discretion was needed to avoid exposing her to the rest of camp, just for everyone's safety. 
I had heard about her, so I didn't quite expect to discover a girl so polite, small in demeanor... frail. Her every step was muted, her every sound was raspy, coarse, deprived. Somehow it felt like she was untrained at being alive.
To make sure I don't make her come across as weak, let it be clear, the instincts of any prey would freeze or hide if finding itself under her gaze. Strange. I could only label her as that, maybe unnerving as well.
Getting back to the start, I was told to go pick up a new camper and take them into the cabin, and somewhow it didn't clicked for me at the start. It wasn't Chiron the one in the room when I stepped into it, but Lee Fletcher. It took me off for a moment and he surely could tell, without me having to make the second effort of shooting a subtle glance of questions. But I did either way. He politely nodded and got close to me before whispering "I had to take care of her for a while so I'm doing formalities to not overwhelm her much.
I found that information remarkable in a way, but before I could think of an answer she cleared her throat to get our attention. My eyes then fixed on her figure all the way across the tiny room. Her presence was small but she was clearly fighting to take up some space, sitting with her chin up, her weight resting on her fists as far as possible from her hips. A knowing, resigned, almost self-pitying smile as she looked at him. 
“People say It’s rude to whisper in front of others”. Her voice was taunting and soft, and if you ask me I suspect that was meant as a joke. Neither of us laughed, though. And I wasn’t sure if she was supposed to stand up, if I was supposed to get close. Every action I could take felt like stepping out of my place, she wasn’t even looking at me.
“My bad." He nodded uncomfortable before getting back closer to her. It was awkward, an awkward really different to the few I was used to. An awkward in which all of us knew we wanted things to be better yet we just didn’t know how to start it all over. He helped her get up and only then a saving, fake chuckle filled the room when they paused looking at each other, and I looked at them silently, designing the right smile on my face as I inserted myself on the conversation. She finally acknowledged my presence. She looked me up and down with a smile. 
“So he's the one showing me around?” I could catch some of her factions, the work she seemed to put on her posture, knots on her hair I could picture her fighting each morning, deep wounds on her body, bloodshot eyes, and a putrid smell that hadn't gone away after what were probably so many baths. And I answered before Fletcher could.
“Yeah that’s me.” Extending my hand at her with a challenging warmth. “Luke Castellan”.  And she nodded with a gleam in her eyes.
“I’ll make sure to remember that”. Was her answer as she delicately shook my hand. Her tired and joyous eyes met mine, and then she introduced herself and my stomach turned, and the world went colorful in a horrible way. Everything started to look out of place. Suddenly I hated that she smiled with her teeth, they seemed too big, and her eyes were liveless in an eccentric way. Was her skin going gray? Was she inside my head? I felt her hands strangling me yet she was so far away. She was close to me. And my fucking mom’s voice was resounding in my brain. I felt like the world was layered and suddenly Lee was too far, and my camp duty was escaping my grip, the room becoming small and then there was her. Who the fuck was her? 
I breathed deeply to calm myself, hiding the fact with a playful sigh. She was just a girl. I was okay. I looked around to convince myself the place looked the same.  
“You’re ready to walk? This place is immense.” I asked half genuinely, half teasingly, looking at her unsure stance, she then stared at the Apollo counselor who just nodded amused at her curious expression. She went back to me.
“Okay. I'll…  do my best.”
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"Is it like... always like this?" I knew what she meant, as she insisted on walking under the shadow of the trees, the sun and heat didn't seem like her favorite thing. I laughed, she was really going to need to get used to that.
"All year 'round" I shouted affirmatively. And I was met with a whine in response.
She lazily followed my step around camp, exploring the space with her eyes, her hands, one foot in front of the other, discovering the buildings almost like a new land. She nodded to every new face around, and most nodded back.
It was almost alluring just how fast she decided to fit in, just how few questions she bothered to ask. I wondered if maybe she already knew what she was going to find...
"Hey so, I don't wanna be rude-"
"But?" She asked with a mischievous smile.
"How... Did you get here exactly? What's your story if it's not... you know... too much."
"Oh!" She looked at me surprised and thought for a couple seconds. "I just walked."
"You... walked? Care to elaborate?" I was almost annoyed at her vagueness. She laughed.
"Like this" And she proceeded to just stump ahead.
"Alone?"
"Alone." She turned around and nodded. So I had to be specific with my questions, I guessed.
"How did you not get lost?"
"I did. I wasn't planning on getting here. I was just... clearing my mind and... suddenly I didn't see the point of going back."
"You ran from home then?"
"Just walked." I actually laughed at that. "I..." Her tone became just a little bit more reflective, yet she didn't really seem affected much. "Wasn't planning on running because I wasn't planning on escaping at all, but suddenly time made no sense and, what the fuck was I even doing on the same always nonsensical noise tying me down? Who cares, you know?" I stayed silent processing before she frowned a bit. "Actually probably someone did but it's not like it feels like it matters. 'cause it didn't matter either when they didn't. Does that make sense?" I chuckled.
"Not at all" I looked at her before adding in a softer tone "but I totally get it".
"Most people here I guess". So she did actually understand this place.
"Exactly" We kept walking until we arrived at the path of the cabins and I remembered to ask. "So... huh... you got... any idea who your godly parent might be?" And she smiled.
"Not at all"
"Well... okay. It's not like it matters until you get claimed."
"And... when does that happen?"
"Whenever they feel like it"
"Great" We kept walking silently as a satyr passed past us. I only noticed cause he kept looking at her, she almost ignored him in exchange. She still had no questions about anything at all... It made some sense as she was already older than most kids coming to camp. But that was actually the strangest thing. If she knew so much, why hadn't she come earlier? And why didn't she know who her parent was?
"Do you have any suspicion though?"
"What are my options?" She asked and... maybe she actually didn't know that much.
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sweaterkittensahoy · 3 months ago
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JackHarding - meant to be a prompt answer but went another direction
Four days after V-E Day–the first day anyone on base is even anything close to mostly sober since they heard Churchill's speech–Jack sits at his desk in his office and wonders what the hell an Air Exec does when an air war's over. He doesn't know. So, he does what he's always done when he doesn't know. He stands up and walks to Chick's office. 
"Good morning, Colonel, go on in. He's free," say's Chick's secretary, Lieutenant Babich, not even looking up from her typing. 
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Jack replies, thinking of how she'd terrified him in the early days before he and Chick had gotten to know each other. She's been with Chick through two other assignments, and she guards his door with the tenacity of the best-trained pilots. The first time she'd casually waved Jack through, he'd tripped over his own feet. She'd pretended not to notice. 
Chick's behind his desk, coffee at his right hand. He looks up when Jack comes in, and the polite interest on his face turns into a warm smile. "Bored?" he greets as he stands. 
Jack shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. "What does an Air Exec do when there's no mission to plan?" he asks. "I've got all the mechanical reports signed off, and I've double-checked everyone's points. I've got other things I can do, but I feel like I'm missing something."
Chick snorts. "What have you ever missed?"
Jack thinks about how long he didn't realize Chick wanted to be with him. How he'd been shocked to get the letter from the hospital that made it clear. 
I've never had such affection for an Air Exec like I have for you, Jack. I hope you're willing to trust me as your CO again.
"I occasionally miss things," Jack replies, and he reads the knowing amusement in Chick's eyes.
 "Come here," Chick says, and he pulls at Jack's blouse until Jack bends down and kisses him. 
Jack keeps it brief for the propriety of where they are, and when he pulls away, Chick takes a step back but doesn't drop his hands from Jack's waist.
"You relax, Jack," Chick says. "You relax and be glad it's over." He takes another step and turns, picking up a stack of papers from his desk. "You relax and review the pilot pairings for sending our boys home."
Jack takes the list. "How do you already have this?" It's on his to-do list, after confirming final training hours for the newest replacements.
"Babich, as usual," Chick says. "How do I ever have anything?" 
Jack chuckles at that. He sits on Chick's couch and looks at the list. "Rosie wants to go to the Pacific," he says because Rosie's listed first. 
"He can want it as much as he wants. No way in hell am I sending that man back into combat," Chick says. 
"He'll fight you."
"No, he won't. I shuffled a few things around. Check page three for full crews."
Jack flips to page three and laughs. "Lemmons as flight engineer? That's cheating."
"Wait until you get to the end of the list," Chick replies, sitting on the couch with his coffee and crossing his legs. "That's my proudest moment." 
Jack cuts him a glance, but Chick's face gives away nothing. He just sips his coffee and reads over Jack's shoulder. 
Jack's tempted to read the list line-by-line just to make Chick wait him out, but the way Chick is being so carefully neutral makes him give in. He flips to the second page. There are four pairs of pilots. Buck and Bucky are no surprise. Brady and a replacement are also no surprise. But Blakely with a replacement, that gives Jack a moment's pause. He'd planned to try and fly home with Blakely himself, close the circle on being each other's first pilot partner. 
But then he sees the last set of names, and it makes sense. Jack stares at his name next to Chick's. "Oh," he says. He looks at Chick, and the neutrality is gone. He's simply looking at Jack, smiling, his body language easy, but there's the barest hint of nerves in his eyes. Worried that he's said too much with the gesture, possibly.
"Hope you don't mind that I suggested it to Babich," Chick says. "I thought maybe I'd fly home with the one sure thing I got from this whole war."
Jack puts the list down on the coffee table and scoots to Chick, taking the mug from his hand and putting it on the table as well. He places a hand on Chick's knee. "I know we agreed this was serious, and we wanted to keep it up after the war, but flying me in like a war bride?" He can't stop the smile in his voice or on his face. 
"Flying you in like the man I love," Chick says, covering Jack's hand with his own. "My fellow pilot. My equal."
Jack kisses him, cups the back of Chick's head and slides his other hand from Chick's thigh to his waist. Chick slides his hands around Jack's back and leans back against the cushions, letting Jack take control. 
When they pull away from each other, Jack is certain Chick's as pink as he feels. "I've never had such affection for a Colonel," he says, knowing it'll make Chick laugh. 
Chick does. He thumbs the gold oak leaves on Jack's collar. "Funny," he says. "Neither have I."
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago
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i've been keeping a list of possible prompts for you and there's one i have no memory of adding that just says "courtesan nmj????" so i guess that's the prompt you're getting lmao
What Does the Fox Say - ao3
“Second Madame Nie!” a disciple shouted, rushing into her little garden. She didn’t recognize him, but he was solidly built and well-muscled like most of the others – truly, the Unclean Realm was a rapturous feast for one with eyes to see it. Yum, yum. “Second Madame Nie, I have bad news!”
Boo. She hated bad news: bad news meant she’d have to do something, usually, and right now she was seated very comfortably in a pleasant piece of sun in the garden path that’d been made up just for her and to her preferences, with her feet up on a chair and a full plate of fruit from the kitchen on the table in front of her just begging to be devoured, morsel by delicious morsel.
Her schedule was packed!
“I regret to tell you, but your husband has been killed!”
“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly. “Has he? How obnoxious of him.”
How unreliable. Men.
She sighed.
“Second Madame – Second Madame – you don’t understand!” The disciple was all red-eyed and weepy, which was a look she liked, especially in big, stout men like this. The salt added a bit of spice to the whole thing. “You must flee at once! He was killed by Sect Leader Wen in an act of outright aggression – Sect Leader Wen has declared war – the Wen sect is invading!”
She nodded and picked up another lychee to start peeling it. She’d get around to fleeing in her own time. As long as this Wen sect or whatnot was being led by a man, she wasn’t terribly concerned.
“They intend to wipe out the inheritance of Qinghe Nie! They will rip out the child in your belly!”
She hummed noncommittally. Really, how attached was she to having a child of her own? Really?
“They will slaughter civilians – execute Nie-gongzi –”
Her hands stilled.
“What,” she said, and the disciple took a step back automatically, proving that he, at least, had something more of a survival instinct than her late husband did. “Hurt my little meat bun? My darling rice roll? My savory zongzi?”
She stood up, diminutive height and over-large belly and frilly clothing doing absolutely nothing to diminish the vaguely menacing aura that darkened the sky around her. She bared her teeth.
“Who does this upstart Wen dog think he is?!”
The disciple blinked owlishly, but nodded, seeming relieved that she’d finally accepted his concern, though she could see on his face that he was thinking that her reasoning was – characteristically – a little strange. But then again, and she could see this thought process on his far too honest face, it was well known that the second Madame Nie been quite strange ever since Sect Leader Nie had found her in some lonesome place with no family or background and brought her back to be his new wife nevertheless.
Such a charming man. Pity about his loss, really.
“You have to flee at once, we can’t possibly fight so many people,” the disciple said once more, and this time she nodded in agreement. “We can escort you to a hidden exit –”
“No!” a little voice called. “We can’t go.”
She turned to look, and there was the little pork-and-shrimp dumpling himself, chubby-cheeked and earnest-eyed, looking as delicious as always.
“What do you mean, fish cake?” she asked. “Of course we have to go. Didn’t you hear what this strapping young man said? This Wen person wants to kill you!”
“If Father is dead, then I’m the sect leader,” her stepson said. He was serious and solemn in a way that made her want to pinch his cheeks and bury her face into his belly to blow raspberries, and also possibly to eat him right up, flesh and marrow and gristle and all. “That means it’s my responsibility to preserve the Nie sect.”
“Nie-gongzi, no!” the disciple cried, throwing himself to his knees in a dramatic display of loyalty. “You would only die – far better for you to run, and live!”
“Then isn’t the same true for everyone else?” the tasty little dish asked, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Possibly he was trying to put on a fierce expression, maybe, she couldn’t quite tell sometimes. He was so cute. “Why should I live, and them not? I refuse to buy my life with their deaths!”
“But – Nie-gongzi –”
Her charming little honey cake shook his head and held up a hand to stop the disciple, turning to look at her instead.
“Second Mother,” he said, and he had that wholesome trusting expression again that was such a perfect little one-shot-kill to the heart, ugh. “You always said you’re the best at hiding. The best in the world, no one better among all the gods or demons!”
She was, too. She couldn’t help but preen a little, proud.
“– can’t you do something?”
“Oh, darling cabbage bun,” she said, not without fondness. “I can hide myself from even the net of Heaven itself if I so choose, from gods and demons alike, and I can most certainly hide a small group from any mortal eyes that dare to look, if you don’t mind being a little tiny bit dishonorable about the business. But an entire sect? That’s a bit much, even for someone as talented and skilled as me.”
Her stepson looked up at her, all straight-steel sincerity and upright righteousness wrapped into a perfectly edible little snack-sized package. “If we split them up, the sect could be small groups,” he said eagerly. “Couldn’t you do something then?”
He was so cute, and he trusted her. He trusted her, believed in her, felt that she could perform miracles with a wave of her sleeve if only she so wished.
It was awful.
She couldn’t bear it.
“Oh all right, you nummy little slice of roast pork belly,” she said, yielding. “But I’m telling you now, it won’t be the least bit honorable! There’s only so many excuses you can come up with for having a lot of strong men with wide shoulders and women with thick thighs hanging around, and not a single one of them has the slightest bit to do with what you people consider to be appropriate.”
“That’s all right. Preserving human life comes first, always.”
The disciple looked between them, clearly completely confused. Clearly all his effort had been spent on developing the muscles in his arms (quite nice) rather than his brain (quite slow).
“What?” he said. “What’s happening?”
“We’re saving the sect,” Nie Mingjue announced happily, clapping his hands together. Too precious, too precious entirely; she’d have to make sure no one else even thought about going near her darling little snackling. “Tell everyone to prepare to evacuate.”
“That will take too long,” she said, and smiled, with teeth. “Let me call some friends to help.”
-
When the Wen sect arrived at the Unclean Realm, they found the gate open.
That was unexpected enough, but when they entered, they found that the entire place had emptied out – not just of people, but of everything else, too. There wasn’t a single intact chair or table in the entire place, not a scrap of cloth nor a bit of food, like it’d been swept clean by locusts or wild monkeys come to pilfer whatever they could.
Even the paving stones where arrays had been laid out by the Nie sect’s ancestors had been pried up and carted away.
Sect Leader Wen ordered a search, but there wasn’t any trace of it – of the people, of the stuff, anything.
No one ever found out what happened.
-
Jin Guangyao despised social events, he’d found.
It was one thing when it was something he’d planned himself, where the work was interesting enough to distract him, but when he was an honored guest for someone else…miserable. Utterly miserable.
The only thing more miserable was when the host was his erstwhile father, from whom he’d forcefully extracted recognition. With Wen Ruohan as his backer, indulging his favorite torturer as if a beloved pet, there wasn’t much Jin Guangshan could do to refuse, and neither could he force Jin Guangyao to do anything on his behalf, either. And so Jin Guangyao, sitting as always by Wen Ruohan’s side, right beneath his sons, was now an honored guest at his father’s house, getting offered his pick of prostitutes as if the man had no notion of the irony.
Maybe he didn’t. Jin Guangyao couldn’t quite tell if his father had just forgotten his origins, thinking his bastard son too unimportant to remember the details of, or whether it was meant as a deliberate insult – who could tell?
“Oh, right,” the simpering idiot in front of him, a nephew or cousin of some sort to the sect leader, said. “Our dear Jin Guangyao is known not to like the gentle flower queens, even when they come from the finest houses in Lanling. Isn’t that right, cousin?”
Jin Guangyao’s fists clenched. A deliberate insult, then.
Despite that, his face remained neutral. Instead, he chuckled and said, “The appeal is limited. After all, I have seen the best of them.”
Beside him, Wen Ruohan nodded and smirked. He appreciated Jin Guangyao’s devotion to his mother, though Jin Guangyao suspected it was because he thought it funny that Jin Guangyao would bother to honor such a lowly woman – but what he thought didn’t matter, not really. All that mattered was that he let Jin Guangyao pay his respects to her to his heart’s content.
“Well, you’re in luck!” the idiot Jin Zixun said, looking absurdly smug. “We have something of a different flavor than the usual tonight – we’ve invited entertainment from the local branch of Splendid Spring.”
Jin Guangyao barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.
The Splendid Spring Palace was a series of brothels that had popped up fully formed just about everywhere some years back, with madams and girls and musicians and bodyguards of all sorts. It was so patently a political move that Jin Guangyao had barely bothered to pay attention to it once he’d become actually powerful, and Wen Ruohan hadn’t paid attention to it at all. After all, in the unlikely event that the business really was backed by a cultivation sect that didn’t care about its face any longer, anyone who needed to use such a façade to gather power was clearly beneath notice.
Jin Guangyao had paid only very little attention, but to different and unusual aspects of the place: by all accounts, they were surprisingly decent employers as far as places like that went. They didn’t steal girls or accept unwilling goods – they had some connection with the merchant caravans, or at least one of the companies that helped coordinate routes and provide protection to such things, and they were as meticulous about checking things over as they were about seeking refunds if they were dissatisfied – and they did accept married girls fleeing unhappy marriages, which not everyone did. They did buy up all the girls in the local markets wherever they were, but they swept them away and brought them back transformed, even the ones that wouldn’t sell because they were too ugly; Jin Guangyao assumed that meant they had people who were talented in make-up and clothing, since the usual rumors of the girls being blessed with a yao’s enchantment were obviously ridiculous and nothing more than the usual marketing gimmicks that brothels since time immemorial had tried.
Even once they had the girls in hand, the places were pretty decent: they had physicians on staff to help with the usual side effects of the business, made sure their girls were clean and healthy, and were said to even limit the number of customers a girl would be obliged to take on in a given evening…honestly, knowing as he did the brothel business, Jin Guangyao sometimes wondered how they’d managed to bespell enough people to even make money in the early days. At any rate, whatever they’d done, it’d worked, because by now they had a solid enough reputation to trade on.
In short: a decent enough place, far better than the usual run of the mill. Once he’d had the ability to do so, he’d even pulled a few strings and arranged for the better of his mother’s old compatriots to end up there, since he couldn’t convince them to leave their old professions behind entirely.
Anyway, if they also seemed to have a sideline in information brokering and assassinations, well, let them. In the cultivation world, where the only thing that mattered was strength, real strength.
A little thing like that wouldn’t make any real difference.
Or so Jin Guangyao had thought.
He found himself re-thinking that, though, when the entertainment in question came out. There were the usual set of attractive (albeit in a wider variety of shapes and sizes than usually seen) dancers, dressed up in silks that seemed actually high quality, and plenty of strapping young men carrying sabers – dancers as well, once assumed, to provide some spice to the entertainment, and implicitly on the offer for men who cut their sleeves or women with more flexibility, like widows or ones with especially permissive husbands. Wen Ruohan’s wives were in that latter category, and they were already whispering to each other excitedly, looking at them.
They’d even brought in the local madame, who was…
Well, she was actually breathtaking, even by Jin Guangyao’s extremely jaded standards. She had hair that fell almost all the way to her ankles, shimmering in the light, and dark eyes shining with liveliness, a smooth and ageless face that simultaneously suggested youth and health but also winked at knowable experience, the features characteristic of what his mother’s employers had called the ‘fox-face’. As if to emphasize that, the lady was wrapped in fox-fur and draped in embroidered brocade, with little stylized foxes running up and down the hems of her clothing and along the gazy silk draped on her shoulders.
It ought to have looked absurd, looked gaudy and overwrought and overdone, but it didn’t.
She was a thousand dreams of wealth and beauty and power and sex appeal all wrapped up in one, and even Jin Guangyao – who was in his personal preferences quite firmly a cutsleeve – couldn’t help but intrigued by her, wondering what it might be like to touch the hem of such a glorious creature.
And next to her…
The lady was accompanied by two men that seemed completely different from each other. One was a slender and winsome young man, fluttering his eyelashes from behind a fan with a charming smile, emanating the appeal of softness and weakness, ready to be indulged. While the other…
Jin Guangyao swallowed.
He was the exact opposite of the first man. Clearly strong, muscular and powerful, and tall to the point of towering, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, a chest that you could lean your head against and an ass that begged to have someone’s hands on it – and there were his hands, big and broad, perfect for holding someone down or up if they so wished and of a size that was very promising as to what was only hinted at under his clothes. His face was hidden behind a veil as if he were a woman, marking him, like his comrade, as one of the available courtesans of the Splendid Spring, but his body was visible under clothing clearly cut to put it to the best advantage.
And oh, what advantages it had…!
“It seems we found something to the tastes of dear cousin Guangyao after all,” the idiot said mockingly, sniggering and snorting like the pig he was, and for once Jin Guangyao didn’t even care.
“Who’s the woman in front?” Wen Ruohan asked, ignoring their interplay. He seemed utterly fascinated, almost spellbound, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him one bit. If this woman had been at the same brothel as his mother, there wouldn’t have even been room for jealousy or shame; his mother would have gone straight up to her to ask for some tips. “She seems…familiar, somehow.”
“That’s the madame of the Splendid Spring,” Jin Zixun said proudly, as if he’d done anything at all in relation to this – nonsense, of course. Everyone know which brothels were backed by the Jin sect, and Splendid Spring wasn’t one of them. He was acting as if he deserve a pat on the back just for the introduction! “That means she’s not for sale.”
His smile faded a little, twisting in a small bit of bitterness. “Or so she told my uncle, anyway…although I’m sure if it were Sect Leader Wen asking, the answer would undoubtedly be different.”
Probably because Jin Guangshan couldn’t slaughter prostitutes with impunity if they said no to him, whereas no one could stop Wen Ruohan from doing any damn thing he pleased.
Wen Ruohan grunted, pleased by the answer – he was a possessive man, in the rare events that he did exert himself in the realm of women, and there had been more than one instance where he’d stolen away some girl his sons had been eyeing first just for the joy of having had her first – and raised a hand, catching the lady’s eye and gesturing for her to come over, which she did.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She laughed. “You can call me Hu Jiuwei. With the ‘Hu’ being the character for fox.”
Jin Guangyao tried not to choke. There were false names and then there were false names – the lady’s theme was already clearly related to foxes, given her fox-face and fox-fur lining and the foxes embroidered onto her robes. Was the over-the-top name really necessary?
“It’s a fake name,” she added, unnecessarily.
“I see,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding a little choked himself. Possibly it was the woman calling herself ‘Foxy Ninetails’ and then kindly reassuring them all that the name was false as if she thought them too dumb to figure it out that was tripping him up a little. Jin Guangyao couldn’t tell if she was doing it deliberately in order to make her frankly inhuman beauty a little less frightening, or maybe she was blessed with so much beauty that she hadn’t bothered to cultivate her brain at all. “Are you our entertainment for the evening?”
She smiled, and any complaints Jin Guangyao (or indeed Wen Ruohan) might have had about her intelligence faded away at once.
It was that type of smile.
You could wreck nations with that type of smile. Jin Guangyao couldn’t help but wonder: how had a woman this extraordinary ended up in a brothel, of all places? How had no one snatched her up to keep her all for himself before now?
“My sons and I –” she gestured at the two behind her, “– would be more than happy to provide you with all the entertainment you could possibly want.”
Her smile widened.
“We’ve been hoping for an opportunity like this for a long time.”
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helloalycia · 4 years ago
Text
teenage dirtbag [four] // wanda maximoff
summary: Things finally explode between you and Nate, and Pietro decides to get to the bottom of whatever is going on between you and Wanda, though in usual Pietro fashion AKA not subtly at all
warning/s: none.
author's note: this is very beefy, i must admit, but i think you'll all enjoy the outcome 😂💘
part one | part two | part three | part five | masterlist | wattpad
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Dinner with the Maximoffs wasn't as strange as I envisioned. Her parents were sweet and the twins did their best to make me feel comfortable. Wanda still seemed mildly frustrated whenever Pietro and I would talk though, and I figured she may have thought I was lying when I told her I didn't like him like that. I hoped that wasn't the case.
After dinner, Wanda took me upstairs to show me her bedroom. I'm not sure how to describe it other than it seemed so Wanda.
"I'm guessing red is your favourite colour," I said when I saw the hints of scarlet in her bedroom. On her walls, in her bedding, on her pillows. Just like her car and her jacket, they were all bright and very her.
"Great observation, Sherlock," she teased with a sly smile.
I returned the smile, sticking my tongue out at her playfully, before having a walk around and coming across her massive CD collection and CD player. Her music taste was actually quite similar to mine, which I definitely didn't expect. It just made her ten times more attractive to me which wasn't good, but oh well. I was here for a good time, not a long time. And my crush on Wanda Maximoff would surely be the death of me.
"D'you have any CDs at all?" she asked, joining my side when she noticed me staring at the shelf.
I crossed my arms, glancing at her. "Don't get me wrong. I'd love to collect them, but it's just so much easier to have Spotify, y'know?"
My intention wasn't to make her laugh, but God I was glad I did when her eyes crinkled and the sound rang around the room, making my heart pinch with adoration.
After giving me some of her pyjamas, the two of us got ready and brushed our teeth before I realised she wanted me to share bed with her.
"You wanna watch some TV before bed?" she asked, clearly not registering my hesitance to slide into her Queen-sized bed.
I swallowed hard. "S-sure."
She turned on the TV at the end of her bed as I slipped in beside her, still a bit rigid as I kept a fair distance from her.
"What you feeling? Comedy? Drama? Horror?"
"Anything is fine with me," I said, still tense.
She hummed in acknowledgement before leaning down on her pile of pillows behind her, edging closer to me. My heart was hammering in my chest as her hair tickled my arm from where she was laying.
"You comfortable?" she checked in, leaning backwards so her head was upside down to see me. "I have more pillows if you need them."
I offered her a small smile, hoping it disguised my nerves. "I'm good."
She nodded before flicking through the channels and eventually settling on reruns of The Office. It took time, but I eventually overcame my initial shock of sharing bed with the girl I had a major crush on and instead relaxed, getting comfortable under the covers.
After watching some TV, we called it a night and fell asleep quite quickly, the day taking its toll on us. For once, I wasn't panicking about doing something stupid. I simply fell asleep, trying to ignore the heat she emanated from beside me.
It was a peaceful night – her bed was super comfortable – and I woke up to the sound of Wanda moving about in her bedroom.
"Shoot, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked when she saw me moving about under the blankets. I tried to blink away the sleep as she continued, "I was gonna wake you soon. School starts in an hour."
I rubbed my eyes, yawning, before sitting up and seeing she was practically already dressed. That meant she would have been up for a while, meaning she would have seen me fast asleep. God, I hated when people saw me sleeping. It always felt so weird.
"It's okay," I got out tiredly, before running a hand through my hair.
"You sleep well?" she asked, spinning around in her chair, her makeup half done. "I tried my very best not to use you as a teddy bear."
She was joking, but I felt my neck grow warm at the thought and damn, it was just way too early to be flustered.
"Yeah, I slept great," I settled, feeling her gaze on me. "Thanks again for having me over."
"Anytime," she said, and something told me it wasn't just a friendly response but that she actually meant it. Maybe it was the kind smile on her lips as she said so. "Just like last night, if you wanna use anything in the bathroom, go for it."
I gave her a thumbs up, taking a moment to wake myself up a little more, before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I returned to Wanda's room, I saw she'd already made the bed and had laid my clothes on top of it.
"I've got a shirt you can borrow," she said when I grabbed my jeans.
"Oh, I can just wear the same thing again, it's no biggie," I told her, already grabbing my shirt.
She pouted before grabbing a shirt from her closet. "Just hold on. You'll love it."
In no time, she came out from her closet and held out a Paramore tee shirt on a hanger towards me.
"I got it from the last concert I went to," she explained. "I thought you'd like it."
I couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Wow, Wanda. Really? You don't mind?"
She nodded, shaking the shirt as emphasis for me to take it. I did, having a look over it and smiling to myself.
"I'll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow," I promised, taking it off the hanger and holding it with my jeans. "Thanks."
"You can keep it," she said, scratching the back of her head apprehensively. "I've got loads."
"Oh, no, I can't do that," I began to deny, but she shook her head.
"It's fine, I'm giving it to you," she said, before smiling sweetly. "I'm sure you'll look better in it anyway."
Again with the warmth spreading up my neck...
"I doubt that," I quipped with a small smile.
"Go! Go get changed," she said, already pushing me towards the door. "I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast."
I snickered, letting her shove me into the hallway, before heading into the bathroom to get ready. The shirt was oversized, so there was no need to be worried it wouldn't fit. It was actually really nice, plus I liked it that extra bit more knowing Wanda gave it to me. Though I knew I wouldn't keep it. It was hers and she was just being nice.
When I finished making myself look presentable, I headed downstairs and found the twins at the kitchen counter, chatting between themselves. Their chatter ceased when I walked in, with Wanda biting her lip and looking me up and down with satisfaction.
"I was right," was all she said, making me nervous. "You do look better in it than me."
The day after that, I did as I said I would and returned Wanda's shirt to her, washed, folded and ironed. Knowing she wouldn't accept it without a fight, I left it in her bag when she wasn't looking during class.
I should have expected her to approach me at my locker afterwards.
"It was supposed to be a gift," she said, and I saw her pretty face reflected in the mirror hung inside my locker.
I turned around, already knowing what she was talking about.
"I told you I couldn't accept," I said politely, giving her a small smile. "I appreciate it though." She seemed disappointed which obviously didn't help with my feelings for her, so I took a leap and added, "Maybe I can get my own at their next concert. In the summer, right?"
She picked up on what I meant and smiled, stifling a laugh. Running a hand through her hair, she met my gaze and I found myself frozen in place as always, unable to look away. I wondered if she knew what she was doing when she did that, knew that she was giving me heart palpitations every time her lips turned into a playful smirk and dark eyes studied me curiously.
My eyes drifted to her lips subconsciously and she must have put on some lip balm or something, prior to finding me just now, as they looked shiny and pink and just so damn kissable. Nate was one lucky guy.
Having faced issues with Nate three times now (AKA the three times he happened to launch a football at my head), I'd figured I wouldn't be seeing the last of him. He was a dick, meaning he had a natural inclination to piss people off, particularly me. But I never thought he'd go for Y/BF/N.
We were chilling by our lockers, chatting about his film project, when his books suddenly got knocked out of his hands and he was shoved against the lockers. I straightened up when I saw it was Nate, looking pissed off as he had Y/BF/N's shirt bundled in his fist.
"What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, trying to shove him off, but he merely pushed me back.
"This isn't your business," he said to me before glaring at Y/BF/N, who was quiet with panic. "You. You've been hanging around my girlfriend and I don't like it."
The colour drained from Y/BF/N's face as Nate slammed his hand to the lockers beside his head, startling him.
"I want you to stay the fuck away from Wanda!" he ordered, and students were starting to pick up on the fight that was clearly about to break out. "You fucking hear me, you nerd? Stay the fuck away!"
Poor Y/BF/N nodded his head, eyes avoiding Nate's. Meanwhile, I was angrier than Nate probably was. Y/BF/N had done nothing wrong. Maybe Nate had just seen Wanda hanging with me and because Y/BF/N was always with me, assumed the worst. Either way, this was no way to handle the situation and I was not gonna let this dick threaten my friend.
"Get the fuck away from him, Nate," I said through gritted teeth, glaring a hole into the side of his head.
Nate barely glanced my way. "I told you this isn't your business, honey."
"Five seconds," I said, standing behind him as a crowd began to form. "You've got five seconds or I'm gonna kick you."
He seemed to ignore me as he tightened his grip on Y/BF/N's shirt, only pissing me off more.
"Five," I began to count down, the grip on my books tightening with nerves and anger. "Four."
He still didn't look my way, just kept slapping Y/BF/N's face to scare him.
"Three, two, one," I said quickly, tired of giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Without waiting anymore, I kicked him between the legs with full force, watching as he instantly let go of Y/BF/N and doubled over. Everybody began to laugh, some making 'ooh' noises, but the consensus was clear – it definitely sucked to be Nate right now.
I tried not to laugh as I watched his face scrunch with pain, turning red. I was starting to appreciate my choice of wearing my doc marten boots today.
"No more balls for the guy who keeps throwing them at my fucking head," I got out, jaw clenching.
He looked up, his face crossing with realisation as he recognised me. In response, he glared in my direction, but it didn't faze me.
"Come on, Y/BF/N," I said, looking to my startled friend. "Let's go."
"What on Earth is going on over here?!" a teacher's voice rang out in the distance, and I groaned internally.
When I turned to leave, I heard Nate from behind me, grunting with dissatisfaction.
"Fuckin' dyke," he mumbled under his breath, and I paused, clenching my fists.
"Y/N, don't–" Y/BF/N tried to stop me, but I was too pissed to care.
I spun around and punched Nate square in the face, feeling good as his smirking face scrunched in pain and his back hit the lockers from the impact.
"Woah!" a teacher came out of nowhere, shoving herself between us and pushing me away from him. "What the hell is going on here?!"
I shook my hand to ease the pain on my knuckles, though the pain couldn't stop the grin on my lips as Nate raised his hands to his face, holding his busted nose. Students were going crazy, egged on by the potential fight, and for once, I didn't mind the attention. Nate had that coming for a while now.
"Everybody back to class! Now!" the teacher yelled, glaring all around her, before her eyes settled on Nate and I. "You two. Nurse's office now."
Nate glared at me behind his bloody nose and, once again, I tried not to laugh. Y/BF/N patted my back, amazement written on his face, before letting me leave with the teacher and an unusually silent Nate.
Kicking Nate in the groin and punching him in the face wasn't something I did to get attention, yet that's exactly what happened. Word of the incident spread around the school quite quickly, so much in fact that even students from other grades became aware of the situation and were approaching me to tell me how awesome I was. The whole thing was definitely strange, but I could tolerate it.
What I couldn't tolerate was having Chemistry after lunch and wondering if Wanda knew.
Would she hate me for punching her boyfriend? I wasn't sure. I just knew that when she walked into class and sat next to me, I felt everyone's eyes subtly watching us as if waiting for her to explode at me.
I'd been given an ice pack for my bruised hand after my visit to the nurse's office earlier whilst Nate had been treated for his broken nose (the fact that I'd broken it was hilarious to me, since I knew I wasn't even that strong). The principal had a very angry yell at us both in his office, neither of us willing to reveal the premise of our fight, before giving us detention every day after school for two weeks straight as punishment. Of course, Nate got his two weeks at a different time to mine for fear I'd punch him again (he definitely didn't like that, but he couldn't exactly say that to to principal).
I didn't bother using the ice pack in Chemistry for fear Wanda may ask what was up. I successfully managed to hide my hand and as a second surprise of the day, Wanda mentioned nothing about the incident. Not one thing about her boyfriend, about Y/BF/N, about any of it. I thought she might hint at it, trying to get me to bring it up. But she didn't which made me think she actually had no idea it even happened. Had anyone told her? Had he told her? Nah, probably not. His fragile masculinity probably caused him to change the story to something else so he didn't look like a wimp in front of his girlfriend.
Whatever it was, I was safe for now.
Thinking I'd got away with a confrontation from Wanda, I went about the rest of my day as usual. Well, that was until I was replacing some books in my locker at the end of the day and saw Wanda at her locker behind me, arguing with– yep, you guessed it. Nate.
Y/BF/N was collecting some books from his own locker beside me and we both exchanged looks as we saw the two lovebirds in a heated argument. Just when we were about to leave, someone cleared their throat from behind us, making us turn around.
Wanda was stood there, backpack hanging from her shoulder, beside Nate, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here.
"Hi," he started quietly, making Wanda clear her throat. He glanced at her before looking to Y/BF/N. "Look, man, I'm really sorry about earlier. I was wrong about what I said. We cool?"
I tried not to laugh at the way Nate was being forced to apologise by his girlfriend. Y/BF/N glanced to me with questioning eyes, so I simply shrugged.
"I guess...," he finally answered Nate, still a little awkward.
Nate nodded before looking to me. He still had his reservations, judging from the twitch in his expression, but for Wanda's sake, he kept his cool.
"I'm sorry for treating you badly," he said reluctantly. "With the football and just generally."
God, it was so hard not to laugh in his face right now. His nose had gauze taped to it and it made him look like an idiot. I fake coughed to disguise my smile, before meeting his gaze.
"It's, er, cool," I said, not in the mood to be an arsehole to him, even though he deserved it. I'd punched him – I think we were equal for now.
He nodded, before staying quiet. Glancing to Wanda, he waited for her to say something. She rolled her eyes and nodded for him to leave. When he was gone, she sighed tiredly.
"I only heard about what happened after Chem class," she said, mainly to me, a guilty expression on her lips. "I'm so sorry he acted like a jerk."
I chewed my lip, unsure what to say.
"It's okay, Y/N here took care of it," Y/BF/N said, smiling with amusement at me. Okay, well now she definitely knew.
"Yeah, sorry you felt you had to do that," she said with a grimace. "I guess he deserved it though."
"Kind of," I agreed, before noticing the regretful frown on her lips. "He apologised though. It's already happened. I kinda broke his nose... No point in dwelling on it."
She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah..." Her eyes fell to my bruised hand before lifting it gently. I winced at the ache, but let her hold it, studying the purple bruise painted across my knuckles. "That looks bad."
It felt good punching him though, but I wasn't about to say that since it was her boyfriend I was talking about.
"It's alright," I said dismissively, shrugging. "Nate kind of got it worse. I'll live."
The pad of her thumb stroked the bruise gently and I held my breath, the feeling of her hands holding mine sending shivers up my arm. Her eyes flickered to mine, softened with guilt, before she let go of my hand.
"I should head home," she said after a pause. "I'll see you both tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," Y/BF/N said for both of us, sensing my loss of words.
Wanda held my gaze once more, eyes half lidded as they glanced down. Before I could even question what she was looking at, she waved goodbye and left.
"She's either starting to realise what a dick her boyfriend is or she's just really into you," Y/BF/N said, patting me on the back. "Maybe both, who knows?"
"You definitely cheated," I told Y/BF/N once we finished yet another round of air hockey. "Nobody wins six times in a row like that!"
He laughed at my expression. "Tell me, dear Y/N. How would I cheat? The concept of the game is simple, really. It's not my fault you're terrible."
I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Seventh time's the charm. C'mon."
He chuckled, about to put more money in the machine, before his eyes got distracted by something behind me. "Well, would you look at that. The Maximoff twins are here."
"Very funny," I said with a knowing look. "You can't throw me off like that. We've established I'm already terrible. Now c'mon. Let's go!"
"I wish I was joking," he said, shaking his head.
I scoffed, not believing him, and turned around to prove him wrong, but I was surprised when I saw Wanda and Pietro walking into the arcade we were in. They seemed to spot us instantly, waving in our direction before approaching us.
"Fancy seeing you here," Pietro teased with a smile as they stopped before us.
I cracked a smile as Y/BF/N joined my side. "We're hanging out. And you?"
Wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulder, he tugged Wanda close to him. "Sibling bonding time."
Wanda rolled her eyes at his childishness, but I could tell she found it endearing all the same.
"Well, if you want, you can hang with us," Y/BF/N offered, and we all looked to him, myself raising a brow his way. He seemed to sense my reluctance, it egging him on as he grinned at them. "Y/N doesn't mind. Do you, Y/N?"
I swallowed hard as I looked between the twins. "'Course not."
And that's how I found myself playing arcade games with the Maximoff twins that Saturday afternoon. It was actually pretty fun, with Pietro being as competitive as I was and Wanda being the sweetest loser with everything she played. It was so adorable, but I ended up letting her win some games of skee-ball just so I could see that cute nose scrunch of hers as she realised she'd won.
"You gonna let me win like that, too?" Pietro caught on as he took his sister's place in playing against me. He had a mischievous grin on his lips and I felt my mouth go dry at what he was implying.
"You wish," I said, playing it cool, though I wondered if he cared that I clearly let Wanda win. He wouldn't read into it, right?
Pietro took his go as he spoke. "So, I heard what happened with you and Nate at school last week."
I closed my eyes, cringing at the reminder. Pietro merely laughed.
"You kicked him super hard, right?" he asked excitedly. "I heard his face went so red with anger that you could fry an egg on it! And don't forget that punch, goddamn what I would pay to have seen that!"
"Pietro!" Wanda scolded from behind us as her and Y/BF/N played air hockey. "Don't be a tool!"
I felt my face heat up with embarrassment as Pietro continued to laugh. Y/BF/N joined in whilst Wanda tried to hide the smile dancing on her lips.
"You're not even together anymore," Pietro called to Wanda between laughter. Wait, did I hear that right?
"You and Nate broke up?" Y/BF/N asked with disbelief. "Our grade's 'it' couple broke up?"
Wanda ran a hand through her hair to distract from her flittering eyes. "He treated you horribly last week. Both of you." She glanced my way before looking at her shoes. "He was a jerk. It was long overdue... Also, I would have broken up with him there and then had I known what he'd said to you. I'm sorry he said what he did."
She stared at me with apologetic eyes and I wasn't sure what to say or do other than nod awkwardly and look away. The fact that she'd broken up with him put a smile on my face though.
"I just think it's awesome," Pietro admitted, before saluting playfully to me. "Thank you for your service. I knew you were awesome, but this is a whole new level."
I sighed, attempting to hide my smile, before straightening up to play. Pietro and I played some skee-ball before I decided to have a go at the claw machine. Wanda was at the one beside me, attempting to win herself a fluffy black cat plush toy. She'd had three goes before giving up, admitting to defeat.
"Typical Wanda," Pietro teased. "Giving up when the going gets tough."
She punched him in the arm, making him jump and rub it. That elicited a smile from her, making me laugh at their immaturity.
"How about Wanda and I go and get a table in the diner next door whilst you finish up winning whatever it is you're trying to win?" Y/BF/N asked, looking to me, as if assigning blame.
"I already told you, I'm not leaving this machine until I win at least one thing," I stated stubbornly.
"The amount of money you've put into the machine won't make up for whatever you win," Y/BF/N teased with amusement.
"Just go," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "I'll be there soon."
"I'll wait with her," Pietro said, resting a hand on my shoulder, making me shrug him off jokingly. "See you soon," he added with a laugh, to his sister and Y/BF/N.
When they left, I looked to Pietro with an amused smile. "I don't need you to look after me, y'know."
He shrugged and looked through the glass of the claw machine. "I know. But I stayed to give you some advice, princess."
"Oh, really? And what advice is that?" I asked, before putting some coins in the machine to have another go.
"People usually tend to win these things for people they like, right?" he asked, nodding to the plush toys in the machine.
"Or for themselves," I corrected with a curious smile. "Take Wanda for example. How badly did she want that cat?"
He crossed his arms, smiling with amusement. "You could win it for her, y'know."
"What?" I asked, half paying attention as I attempted to grab a teddy bear.
"Win the cat for my sister and give it to her?"
I ended up dropping the teddy from the claw as I looked to Pietro with shock. He laughed at my expression, leaning against the machine.
"You do like her, right? Otherwise this is awkward," he added as an afterthought, looking down and smiling to himself.
My jaw hung open. "I– er– I never really– I don't–"
"She must definitely like you," Pietro noted, glancing at me.
I licked my lips as I found my words. "Did she," I cleared my throat, "did she say something?"
"Well, no," he said, "but she looks like she wants to murder me every time I hang out with you."
"That's just a coincidence," I said, shaking my head and looking back to the machine. "She's not–" I thought about, before shaking my head again. "No."
I appreciated Pietro's help, but Wanda definitely didn't like me like that. She was just protective of her brother and friendly to me. It didn't mean anything.
"Look, you don't have to listen to me," he said, straightening up and looking at the machine as I slotted another coin in. "But you could give it a shot. See what happens."
I glanced at him, his blue eyes watching me knowingly, a matching smirk on his lips.
"Fine," I gave in, hoping it wouldn't backfire. "Let's see what happens..."
615 notes · View notes
get-shiggy-with-it · 4 years ago
Text
Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)
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✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader
✧ word count: 9.9k
✧ ao3 mirror
✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me
✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.
✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3
Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.
But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.
What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.
But he held out.
If only for you.
Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…
'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.
He did a lot of watching.
Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.
So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—
Yeah.
It was a lot.
But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?
If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.
He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.
Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.
Not at all.
But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—
What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.
And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.
Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.
It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.
Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.
If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.
And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.
In a completely platonic and not freaky way.
So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.
If only for that.
He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.
If only for that.
Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—
Yeah.
That was enough.
***
It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.
Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.
“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”
Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.
But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.
He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.
So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.
It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.
Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.
“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.
Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.
Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?
“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.
“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”
Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.
“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”
“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.
“You’re just figuring that out now?”
Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.
“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”
Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”
“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.
“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”
“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”
Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.
“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.
“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”
“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner���s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”
Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.
Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.
“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”
“Your gaming club thing?”
“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”
Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.
Needless to say, he’d refused every time.
It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.
They just weren’t his jam most of the time.
“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.
Still empty.
He sighed.
Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.
Wow.
Meta.
“Jin?”
The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.
“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.
He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.
Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.
“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.
He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.
Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.
“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.
Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.
Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.
It was harder to look.
Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.
Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—
But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?
Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.
You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.
He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.
Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.
It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.
Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.
Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.
It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.
He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.
Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.
Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.
But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.
And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.
And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.
Because it was you.
You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.
The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.
But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.
And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.
Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.
“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.
“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.
“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”
“You sure about that?”
Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.
Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.
“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”
“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.
But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).
“No, really. That would be weird, right?”
Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.
Yeah it was weird.
Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.
But he knew you.
Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.
And you were crying and he had to do something.
“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”
You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.
Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.
“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.
“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.
“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.
Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.
“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”
You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.
“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”
Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.
You were weird too.
For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.
Well.
No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.
Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.
It was almost as comforting as your smile.
“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.
You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”
And you were funny.
He was gonna fucking combust.
“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”
“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.
And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.
The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.
“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.
“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.
Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.
“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”
You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.
Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.
“Seriously?”
The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.
Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.
He hated this job but he needed it.
Were you worth the risk?
Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.
You were everything.
“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”
“Are you always this nice?”
Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.
“Not always…”
“Should I feel special then?”
If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.
“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.
He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.
“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”
“Oh, no you don’t actually—”
You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.
“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”
God you were fucking perfect.
“Can’t argue with that.”
***
Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.
Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.
The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.
Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.
The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.
The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.
On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”
The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.
So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.
— HEY IT’S JIN!
— from the library
— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps
— n e way….
— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good
Most perfect fucking human being to…
Oh my god thank you so much!!!—
Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—
Also send me your order—
so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—
Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—
Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.
Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.
The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.
He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.
Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.
When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.
Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.
“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”
“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.
“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”
He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.
“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”
Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.
“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”
Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”
“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.
“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”
His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.
How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?
Other people were such a mystery to him.
To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.
“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.
“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”
“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”
Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.
“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”
“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”
Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.
“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”
“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”
“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”
***
Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.
He was fine.
He was fine.
Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.
Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.
It was a little overwhelming to say the least.
His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.
But it was fine.
Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.
Like, really fucking easy.
It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.
After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.
“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”
“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”
He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.
Jin.exe has stopped working.
“...What?”
You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”
He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.
“You think I’m cute…?”
He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”
“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”
“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”
“So wait is this a date?”
Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!
“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”
“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.
It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.
Filled with potential.
Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.
It was you that struck the match.
“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”
Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.
Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.
When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’
It was exactly what he’d hoped.
You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.
It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies
But what if he did it wrong?
What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?
He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.
“You think too much for your own good.”
And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.
Should he lean down now?
Tilt left or right?
What if he clacked your teeth together?
What if—
Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.
His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.
He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.
Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.
Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.
Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”
“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.
“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”
For once Jin had nothing more to add.
And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.
***
“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.
Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.
He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.
The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.
His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.
“Jin, fuck please-”
You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.
“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.
He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.
Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.
He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.
“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.
“Are you fucking serious?”
He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.
In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—
Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.
Wanting him.
What a concept.
He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.
And for once, he finally had the words to do it.
After all, he’d had months to prepare.
It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.
“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.
“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”
You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.
“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”
“What?”
Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.
“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”
You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.
“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”
“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”
The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.
“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”
“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”
His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.
Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.
There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.
“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.
He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.
The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.
He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.
The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.
You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.
Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.
He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.
And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.
Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.
“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”
“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”
You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”
“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”
Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.
“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”
“Ha, yeah….”
A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.
It was such a rare commodity.
But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.
“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.
Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.
That you didn’t want him to leave.
“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.
“Good,” you sighed.
He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.
But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.
He didn’t need to now.
You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.
No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.
Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.
So there was no more need for sleep.
And no need for dreams.
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rogue-durin-16 · 4 years ago
Text
THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part VII/VII)
"apart"
Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Genre: angst
Tags:
Suggested by: @crispykittywitch
George Weasley: @meph1stophelian
Things never go as planned: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @sunshineandshadows @missmulti @accioweaslcy @andreaareynoso @georgeweasley16 @dianarte @skarlettmikaelson
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality
Warnings: language (?) Angst
A/N: P L E A S E DON'T MURDER ME YET THERE'S AN EPILOGUE OKAY?! OKAY now enjoy <3
Prologue: the aftermath
Part I: sleepless nights
Part II: candy floss
Part III: shock therapy
Part VI: wrong name
Part V: the perfect excuse
Part VI: the downfall
Epilogue: I still love you
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
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Since the Amortentia incident, Y/n had barely looked at me; not in the way I had avoided her after New Year, though, this time, it was different. She didn't seem to be doing it accidentally, rather than on purpose; she appeared to be too lost into her turmoil of thoughts to realise what she was doing, which scared me more.
I had figured the Amortentia would have had something to do with it, but it took me two days to pick up on it.
Undoubtedly, Y/n had smelled Fred's scent on it, and it dawned on her how twisted what we were doing was.
I cried myself to sleep the night that my mind stumbled upon that information. I let myself sob violently, pouring out as much pain as I could, wanting to wash away the recurrent thoughts that creeped on my mind, thoughts that were not unfounded.
That was it— I had lost both a friend and the woman I loved.
Once the tears seem to die out, a new thought appeared in my mind; maybe I was meant to be alone. I could barely function alone, how was I supposed to function with another person?
Perhaps I had always be meant to be alone.
I was going to be alone forever.
I was alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
READER'S P. O. V.
It took my careless arse a hot minute to be aware of how obvious my emotional rollercoaster was from the outside; George had been getting visibly upset by it —I'd dare to reckon he even cried the past night because of it—, and I had to stop that, but how?
I knew it was always best to tell the truth, but where would that take us? Nowhere good. I couldn't just tell George I was in love with him and expect us not to fall apart even harder.
He would think I'm lying, or that I'm using him as a second option —I couldn't let him think that—, but again, his mind had probably gone to those thoughts due to my radio silence.
I had to tell him the truth, and face the consequences.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sound of our front door's lock opening snapped me out of my own mind, and even made me jump a bit in the couch I sat. I had been waiting for George to arrive for a good couple of hours, weighing on how I could approach the topic, but I didn't seem to come up with anything remotely good.
He stepped into the flat with his eyes casted down, so it took him a moment to acknowledge my presence. "I—" his now dull eyes observed me with confusion, as if he wasn't expecting to see me in my own flat. "what are you doing awake?"
"Waiting for you." He closed the door, scrutinising me with furrowed brows. "I— well—" I cleared my throat and got up, causing his shoulders to tense up. "I wanted to tell you something."
I thought I would have to fight his childish behavior and convince him not to dodge the subject, but he only leaned on the door, his hands behind his back and his eyes casted down. "I... I wanted to tell you something too."
"You go first." I prompted him, planning on using those extra seconds to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to say —as if I hadn't been trying to mentally prepare myself for two hours already.
He peeked at me and sighed, his eyes coming back to his shoes before speaking. "I don't know how to say this— I" he pursed his lips and I could see the struggle irradiating from him. "I think you should move out." Now I knew why he refused to meet my gaze. "We— we need time away y'know— Fleur offered to help you look for an apartment. I'll go back to the Burrow until you find one— and I'm not firing you but I would appreciate if you didn't attend the clients if I'm there."
I should have spoken first, I scolded myself.
"Why?"
"What why?"
"Why you should've spoken first?"
"I— well, so you see," I tugged on my sleeves; it was my turn to avoid his look. "W-when I spilled the Amortentia— well I— I smelled—"
"I know."
"You... Do?"
"Yeah, that's... That's why I think we need some time away."
I had never in my life had my heart shattered in so many pieces in such a short span of time. The pain was so immense that I wasn't able to shed a single tear. Out of every outcome, this was the least expected.
"O-okay." We kept sneaking glances at each other in a dreadful silence until our eyes accidentally met. "I think—"
"I should—"
Another best of silence fell among us after we simultaneously spoke.
"I should go pick some things up." He muttered, passing by my side as fast as he could.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning I caught him, as I expected, sneaking out of the flat with one of the bags he had carried in months ago.
He was already exiting when I jogged out of my room, managing to catch his hand.
I could see the goosebumps in his arm, and I thanked Merlin he couldn't hear my heart threatening to leaving my chest to go with him.
"I'm really sorry, George." I whispered, squeezing his hand. Although I had a tiny bit of hope that he would change his mind and step back into our home if I said those words, it was more of a goodbye.
He just shook his head, letting me know there was no need for an apology, and squeezed my hand back before pulling away.
His fingers slipping away from mines was such an emptying feeling, as if my connection with him slept away from my grasp forever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I went to sleep that night hoping George's parting would have been a nightmare, and I cried the morning after when my brain took in that it was, in fact, very much real.
A heavily pregnant Fleur showed up that afternoon; she made me dinner and tried to cheer me up a little before making me get dressed so she could drag me out to look for flats in the Diagon Alley. It was an unsuccessful trip, but the Triwizard Tournament Champion wasn't about to give up so easily, so she came the next day, and the following, and on and on for a week.
As if summoned by the woman's will to find me a new home, we found a cheap, acceptable apartment near the shop.
I purchased it instantly, and soon enough I was moving out my things with Bill's help, to stop his wife from helping me herself.
"That's the last one, right?" Bill questioned, nodding at the bag laying on the couch with a box in his hands.
"Yup." I pulled it up and hung it on my shoulder.
"Need anything else?" I shook my head no. "Alright then I'll leave this at your place and apparate back home." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "I know it's none of my business but... Whatever happened between you two— it's fixable, believe me."
"I really don't think so." I muttered, gripping the bag's strap.
"It is," he repeated, adjusting the box in his arms. "just don't give up." He gave me a small, reassuring smile and disapparated.
Maybe he was right, maybe it was fixable. Taking a look around the now emptier apartment, I thought it surely didn't seem like it, but hope is the last thing you lose, right?
In a final attempt of getting him back, I grabbed a notebook from the bag and teared a page off it; I left the bag besides me as I knelt down and reached for a pencil forgotten over the coffee table.
Three Days Later
GEORGE'S P. O. V.
I entered the apartment— it was quiet, similar to a cemetery, just like the first time I stepped on the apartment after the war.
This time, it was empty, though.
Y/n didn't rush to the door when I opened it.
She didn't catch me when I fell on my knees and broke down to tears.
I was alone.
After Godric knows how long I managed to get myself back to my feet. I passed Y/n's old room as fast as I had first passed Fred's room months ago.
Once I got to my room and lay down on my bed, my mind cleared up enough for me to realise that I would be seeing Y/n the next day —at least once— at the shop.
"Fuck." I muttered, burying my face on my pillow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
READER'S P. O. V.
He had asked me not to leave the office while he was in the shop.
He had explicitly asked me not to, but I needed to know if he had read my letter— no, I need to know if I had taken a step in the right direction by writing the letter.
So there I was, descending the stairs in his direction, and taking my time to do so since he was talking with a couple of clients.
"Y/n!" Verity rushed to me with what seemed a defective portable swamp. "I need your help with this," My eyes, still on George, caught the way his head snapped in my direction with sheer fear on it. "I've got a woman there threatening with suing us because the swamp send one of her children to St. Mungo!" The girl managed to get my attention with her anxious rambling.
"She can't do that." George, who had probably caught on Verity's words, spoke before I could. "She agreed on our shop policy." He reminded her, walking to stand by my side.
"I already told her that Mister Weasley, but she said she's 'not taking the words of a pipsqueak'." She replied in a whisper.
"She said what?" George questioned in disbelief.
"I'm gonna shove that lawsuit up her arse." I spoke, spotting the completely out of place middle aged woman who stood in front of Verity's till. "Send her to the office." Verity looked at me and then at George for confirmation, who simply gave her a nod.
Once Verity left, I turned to the ginger, whose warm eyes were already fixed on me. "How are you?" He inquired in a way that let me see it was out of politeness, which made my hopes die a little.
"Been better." I replied, ready to somehow test the waters. "How about you?"
"Same, I suppose." George didn't even try to put on a happy face, and I started to get anxious; there was no way he would have missed the note —I left it on the kitchen table— so that meant he had read it and- "You should go back to the office."
My heart attempted to hold onto the possibility of him not having read the note, but my brain knew better than that. "Alright." I nodded and went back to my workplace; I would deal with that woman and after that, I would prepare a resignation letter.
George was right, we needed to be apart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It wasn't that bad, I lied to myself, sitting down on the sofa while undoing the tie's knot.
My mind was about to begin the overthinking of Y/n's words when my stomach growled. Without noticing, I had gone without a single meal for the entire day.
I listened to my body and moved to the kitchen to prepare myself something. While the stove heated up, I turned around and took a look at the kitchen; just like the rest of the rooms, it seemed gloomier without Y/n lighting up the apartment.
Stop thinking about her.
My eyes landed on a piece of paper with one of Y/n's rings over it. Before properly realising it, I was sitting down on one of the chairs and reading what had been written in the scrapped page.
Dear George,
I know what happened is on both of us, but I can't help but blame myself, as selfish as it might sound.
You don't know this, but while at Hogwarts, I found you and Fred rather annoying— I didn't understand why everyone seemed to fancy you so much. Then, you hired me to work in this amazing shop, and I understood.
During these past two years I had the pleasure and honour to call you my friend; you made my life much better, I'd like to think I did the same.
I wanted to apologise for everything I've done since New Year. I'm so very sorry for falling in love with you. Though it was something so easy to happen, I never thought it would go this far.
I don't know what is this letter (a proper goodbye? I don't know), but I want need you to know that I never wanted to harm you nor our friendship, and that I'm still going to be here for you, feelings aside.
Love,
Y/n.
I re-read the fourth paragraph at least five times before taking it in.
She had fallen in love with me.
That's what she had meant to say when she spoke to me about the Amortentia— that she had smelled my scent— Oh no.
My reply— she probably thought it was unrequited; she probably thought I had kicked her out because she was in love with me and not quite the opposite.
Without thinking twice, I ran down to the office with the letter clutched in my hand; she had to be there, she was always the last one to leave.
She had to be there.
I was so focused on reaching the office on time that I missed Y/b's figure exiting the shop.
I slammed the door open, just to find the table's surface, which used to be full of Y/n's things, clean in its entirety, aside from an envelope which had written on it 'resignation'.
"No."
READER'S P. O. V.
I had just left the small box with my things over the coffee table, and was taking off my shoes when an apparition noise followed by a couple of bangs on my front door made me jolt.
Out of a sad habit I, among the rest of the Order, had gotten during the war, I grabbed my wand and approached the door.
My arm fell limply on my side while I stared into George's eyes, which seemed to hold back a storm of mixed emotions.
"C-can we talk?" My gaze then fell on the paper his hand was gripping, and that I assumed was my resignation.
"George, listen, I can't—"
"I'm in love with you."
Words had stumbled out of his mouth in panic, and the only thing I could reply was, "What?"
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smeraldos · 4 years ago
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Love by Daylight (1/2)
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➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader
➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l
➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known
➸ words: 2K+
➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)
>> PART 2
When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.
He lifts his face.
The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.
Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.
Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?
You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”
“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.
“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”
“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”
“I didn't have a choice.”
“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”
He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”
“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."
Agust doesn't reply.
At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."
Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.
Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."
"My mother?"
"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”
The next morning, you head to school on time.
Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.
Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.
A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.
The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.
“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”
You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.
“Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”
“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.
Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"
After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.
“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.
She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”
You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.
Just like you are now.
Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.
"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."
"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.
"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."
Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"
"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."
You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.
But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.
So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"
"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."
"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.
Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."
"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.
"Good?" He asks.
"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.
"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."
"Really?"
He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"
You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.
"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.
"I hate how perceptive you are."
He laughs. "You're just predictable."
"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.
"Are you sure you want me to do that?"
You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"
"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."
You sigh.
"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"
Jimin laughs. If only he knew.
"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."
Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.
"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."
"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."
"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"
"I never said he was a jerk."
"But you said he was a pest."
"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."
"Did you talk to him?"
"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"
"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."
"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."
"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"
"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."
"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."
When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"
"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"
You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"
"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.
"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"
>> NEXT
...
note:
*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon
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dreamiesdotcom · 4 years ago
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you've been fooled! | p.js
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Summary: There's something about coffee, breathless moments, and watching memories of the many April 1st you've shared that makes it so hard to resist.
Word Count: 2.1k
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You've always been fine with being alone. Being alone afforded you silence, and that's all that you need to have the illusion of peace of mind. That's why months before entering this school, you considered it your mission to not get too much attention on you — if possible, none at all.
Only that it fails the moment you step in, an angel-faced boy asking you if God sent you to this school to guide him.
'No, my parents are the one who sent me here and it's so that I can get an education, not babysit kids.' You politely said, and now you can't even count how many people keep on praising you for doing that! How rare is it to see someone tell others to leave them alone? You swore that one more person trying to talk to you when you're trying to have a sandwich and you're —
"New kid?" a voice rings from behind you, and you turn your head back a little so you could see who's speaking. He grimaces a bit. "Oh, Y/N from the rival school, huh. I've heard fun things about you."
...perfect. Now, you can forget your mission and die.
Your day instantly glooms, and you turn back to your meal. All your plans of starting fresh has just been washed away, and you take an angry bite off your sandwich before someone completely ruins lunch for you.
"If it's about that video, leave me alone."
Silence.
"Donghyuck! Oh God, I'm so sorry..." suddenly comes another boy, slightly panting as he pats the mean one's shoulder a little too harshly. His eye-smile makes it a little better.
"Hyuck's not trying to be mean, he just speaks like that. 'm so sorry!!!"
You squint at him, skeptical.
"Oh, I meant when you told Jaemin to back off when he tried to flirt with you on the hallways." Ah, that. What a fresh start, huh?
Said Donghyuck scratches his nape, looking sheepish as he takes the seat beside you. "Did I sound like I was picking a fight again?"
You chuckle to yourself. That probably explains the cut on his lips pretty well.
"Yeah, you kinda did. Sorry, bro, but I would've slapped you."
"What a way to spend your first day, then." He rolls his eyes, motions for his friends to move tables, who does with little hesitation, "Welcome to this hell hole! It's not the best, but it's as good as Satan's den could be."
You laugh, but you quickly notice curious stares directed at you. The person in front of you smiles shyly and looks away when you meet gazes, and honestly, you don't know how you went from there to a year later, Park Jisung shamelessly holding out a drink at your direction.
"Just drink it, it's iced chocolate! I made it myself!"
"That's nice, Sung... but I only drink coffee." you warily smile, "I don't like sweet things."
The sly smirk Renjun sends you from the other side of the table only encourages your little act, and it takes you all the self-control you could muster to not crack up then and there. Of course, you know what day it is. Of course, you're not gonna fall for his antics, nor the kicked-puppy expression he wears as he insists, "Liar! You live for sweets!"
But, you must admit that it did make you waver.
"No? I like strongly flavored stuff, Sungie," you point out with a grimace. Just for show, you point to Jaemin's cup beside you. "Like this: Nana's coffee, really bitter and strong. This is what I like."
Chenle holds in his laughter. "Since you made it yourself, why don't you just drink it?"
Jisung's eyes widen, "What? No!"
"Drink, Sungie!" comes in chants, alongside multiple repeated versions of 'Jisung! Jisung!' seems to hit something much like his pride, and he lifts it with an expression not suitable for the situation; he looked way too afraid of the chocolate drink. Everyone's holding in their giggles as they watch Jisung grimace and take a gulp out of the cup, trying to play cool even though he chokes not even moments later. Your smile widens.
The salt must be a nice twist.
What a classic, huh? Donghyuck grins, Cheshire and smug, and then he claps.
"Happy April Fool's day, everyone! Park Jisung has fooled himself!"
###
No way in the world are the only words circulating in your head as you pace around, and it's not at all helping. You heave a big sigh only to hiss at him, "What do you mean 'no pranks this year'?"
He shrugs and flops down his bed, "You know we're running out of ideas since Christmas."
"Oh," you widen your eyes, dropping down next to him with your palms covering your face in disappointment. You peek through your fingers, "This is bad."
The plastic stars you've plastered on his ceiling together with Renjun look sickly green at the moment and everything feels out of place. After all, what is April 1st without pranks? What's gonna happen now? You thrash around the bed. You muffle a scream and just hope that he'd open his mouth and come up with something.
"Hey, what about we go on a date as a prank?"
And as usual, his mouth is better off closed.
"Is this your way of flirting, or is this your way of asking me out?"
Jisung makes a confused sound, "What? It's gonna make them freak out, what do you mean?"
"Are you acting out on your feelings or do you actually think that's a good idea?" you take your hands off your face, sitting up and then shrugging at him, "Lines blurred."
"Err. Could be a prank, I guess..." he follows suit, sitting cross-legged in front of you. He smiles, "Unless... you want it to be a real date?'
"Dude, I don't know. When did you get this confidence? Years ago you were stuttering around me." You huff, not knowing where this conversation is going, but a flush creeps on your cheeks. You look down on your fingers as you mumble out the next words, "But if it is... well, sure. I'll go on a real date with you."
You didn't know what falling in love felt like, but in the middle of his room, something felt way too raw and surreal. What is it that says so much about him? Is it the plastic stars? The globe laying on his desk? The map taped at the side of the room? The way dull blue paints his walls, or the way constellations speckle his eyes? Maybe it's the yellow hoodie he's wearing? You don't know which, but right now, something feels strange — something in the scent of cinnamon and cocoa and shades of yellows and blues just feels unabashedly Jisung, and somehow, you just thought that it must be like this.
It should be legal to feel this good.
"Ha! You're kissing, aren't you— oh..."
You both startle to look at where the door swings open, everyone in your friend group standing behind an accusing Jaemin, each one of them looking at him with the eyes of murder. You crack up a laugh, falling over the bed laughing; alone is slightly less entertaining of a thought when you have friends.
"Aish, Na Jaemin —" Jisung groans, standing up while clapping at the older. "Happy April Fool's,  you've fooled yourself."
###
Knees pressed together, head down low, eyes closed, mind empty. Anguished and cold.
"But I've tried my best...." you dejectedly whisper, holding the paper in your hands that said 'Second' in silver delicate swirls. You look up to her with hopeful eyes, "All I need is a chance, mom. You see, Renjun's really good at that subject, he could help me—"
"Those friends again! 'You see', this is why you didn't make it as top of your class!"
"It's... it's one subject, mom. If I try harder, I can —"  you scramble to explain, chasing after her as she moves up the stairs. "You're... mom, you're not taking me away, aren't you?"
The despair in your tone doesn't even shake her. "One day. Go have your fun, and then we'll leave. I'll ask your brother to focus on you more."
"Mom, no! We said that if I study well here, I won't have to leave!"  you reason out. "I really like it here, and I have important people here, and I'm trying hard. We agreed that I'd get to stay if I don't cause trouble, and mom— mom, no, listen!"
"That's my choice. It's for the betterment of your academics—"
"But what about the betterment of my life? What about my choice, mom?"  you hate the way you feel so weak and your voice cracks, but through the blur of fears and your unshed tears, you croak out, "What about me?"
Anguished and cold. So cold, freezing. So loved and all on your own.
"Last time you made a choice, you shamed yourself and this family. You don't deserve your freedom, Y/N." She grimaces. The memory fills your gut with guilt, "And look at you, answering back at your own mother! It's those friends, isn't? They've ruined you more than you've already ruined yourself!"
Quickly enough, the remorse is gone and anger floods you. How dare she?! You look up to her in disbelief, "This is about you ruining my trust, mother. Not them."
"The boy, then." she muses, and it's where you decide that there's no changing her mind. "Love, Y/N, will get you nowhere at the moment."
But it's what kept me alive until now.
You inhale sharply at your thoughts. How does one make forever out of a day?
Maybe you can walk every street, every corner. That date you and Jisung never got to go to, you could do that too because heaven knows how much you wanted that. Maybe you can go take them anywhere, somewhere, and waste away. Maybe you could fall asleep staring at the stars, sharing your dreams, and maybe, just maybe, time wouldn't matter. Better yet, maybe you can change your mother's mind.
Maybe if you just try again, this time much fiercer although you've always been the fiercest, it might be possi—it's impossible. You realize it's impossible as you look out the car windows, watching the city change landscapes in blurs.
Maybe it's really just a different kind of heartbreak to be doing all that you could and still not get the results you wanted. More than it proved that now is not your time again, it also made you feel like a failure. Like you're lacking, insufficient. Never enough.
But you really, really thought you could stay. You hoped.
"Happy April Fool's..." you whispered to no one but yourself, meeting your mother's gaze as she smiles at you through the rearview mirror. You lean your head to the glass, eyes closed and mumbling under your breath, smiling on your own, "I've fooled myself."
And just like that, you were alone again.
###
"Good Morning, may I take your order?"
You press your lips in a thin line as you hear the muffled voice, phone in between your shoulders and ear as you search for your pouch somewhere around your bag. Hurriedly, you muster up your words, "Oh, yes, good Morning too! Just one Iced Americano, please—"
That voice... who?
Looking up, your heartbeat halts, and you try not to look so stunned, something you miserably failed. At least, that's what you read in his amused expression. You stay in silence as you wait for him to finish up your drink, carefully pushing your card towards him as you take your drink from his hold.
"I... I see you're still helping Yongie, huh?" you smile softly, hesitant. "Thank you, Jisung."
Flashbacks, sweet smiles, children at play every day of the year no matter how old — free. When was the last time you've missed such freedom?
He returns the favor, that saccharine expression, and you drag yourself out of the place before you decide to do something stupid. Why is it so easy to see the past years when you're watching it flash by through his eyes?
Standing outside the Cafe wistfully, you look at your cup, tracing over his messy handwriting of your name, basking on the nostalgia of seeing the same hastily written letters that somewhere in time occupied most of your cards, notebooks, and journals. A fond chuckle leaves your lips as you read the post-it note attached.
Happy April Fool's day!
I thought I'd give you hell once you come back for leaving, but well, Park Jisung's fooled himself, huh? My number's still the same. Let's talk sometime soon.
I missed you.
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degenerate-otaku · 3 years ago
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Another one shot of Future Gohan and Trunks for yall
https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13896221/1/Before-the-Rain
(Links in case you prefer)
In the times that had followed the androids' destruction, younger generations were highly protected, as they were the earth's only hope. The government set up an initiative to get more children out of dangerous cities that housed gangs and violence.
Children and any family they had would move to countryside camps, wherein they would receive food, safety and education in return for doing manual labour such as farming and sewing, as well as taking care of the sick.
Trunks somewhat hated this, as it meant that many children in West City, including his own friends often moved away when things got too difficult, leaving him isolated, in terms of having friends his own age.
Sure, sometimes he'd visit, taking the underground railway system, or by hopping on the nimbus, or even flying when he had learnt to do so, but it felt like an arduous task.
However, when Gohan decided to volunteer as a teacher, Trunks thought it would be a good idea to attend full time, as the pair could go together. Trunks was surprised when the day before Gohan revealed he was rather nervous about it.
“C'mon, you're an amazing teacher to me, so I'm sure you'll be able to teach more kids!” Trunks reassured him, snuggling into bed. He always loved when Gohan would stay over at his house, it was so comforting to know he was right there beside him.
“Yeah...but that's you...and I've known you since you were born...and there's a lot of kids!” Gohan hung up his smart looking outfit, which Trunks remarked as being nerdy, on a hanger, before sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Trust me, they aren't as annoying as me. You'll be fine...Good night.” Trunks smiled at him before switching off his light and pretending to be asleep before Gohan could worry further.
Gohan sighed and tucked the boy in a little more before heading to sleep himself.
The next day, the pair flew to the makeshift school building, and landed away from sight before coming in together.
To keep Gohan distracted from his nerves, which Trunks viewed as highly irrational, considering Gohan was also "The Golden Warrior", he inquired,
“Doesn't your mom cook for the kids here a lot? My friends said that a lady called Miss Son is the most amazing lunch lady ever.”
“Huh? Oh...yeah,” Gohan laughed, lifting his head from the book held in his hands.
“I mean...she's used to cooking in massive quantities for me and for when my dad was around...it's a chance for her to share her...motherly-ness.” He smiled, then stopped at the door, listening to the sound of children chattering inside.
“You can do this!” Trunks grinned, taking his bag off his shoulder as he stepped in, Gohan following, the class immediately silenced, intrigued by the smart young man, that was clearly strong looking, his muscles bulging even in his clothes.
“Uh...Good morning class!” He began, picking up a pen and writing his name on the board.
“My name is Mr Son...and I will be your new teacher!” He smiled politely, awaiting a response.
“Oh my god, are you married to the lunch lady?!” A girl exclaimed.
Gohan frantically shook his head, “N-no, she's my mom!” His face had gone red as the class giggled, but he soon regained composure, laughing it off.
“Gosh, she cooks like that for you all the time?!” Another kid chimed in and he scratched the back of his head,
“Yeah...I guess so! I just hope she doesn't come in and embarrass me!” He answered.
Trunks gazed up at him from where he was sitting. He was glad to see his best friend adapting so well to his new job.
“Alright! Our first task is going to be a written task, which I'll get you to read aloud at the end.” He instructed them, handing out some paper, taking a look at every one of his new students.
“I want you all to write about what you did during your summer. Which programs did you volunteer in? Did you visit anywhere?”
He returned to his position at the front and passionately spoke, “I really wanna know about you guys! Oh...maybe I should take the register to learn your names...tell me if I mispronounce any!”
Gohan sat down, getting out the list of names and calling them out, one by one, receiving a pleasant "Good morning, Mr Son“ each time. It was strange to hear Trunks call him that, and by the sound of it, the title was strange for the boy to speak aloud too. The two just had to pretend as if they didn't know each other, Gohan made it a priority not to show favouritism towards him, but he knew it would be difficult.
He loved that boy unconditionally.
”Sir, how long do we have?“ A girl named Cherri, who he knew to be Trunks' friend that used to live not far from Capsule Corp, asked.
”Oh...right, I forgot to tell you that! Uh...you have until half past.“ He answered, before scribbling down more lesson ideas in his book.
The truth was that he had no clue about what he was doing. He was planning his lessons as he went along.
The time passed quickly, and Gohan decided to pick out random students to read out what they had wrote. A few passed, and he made some notes about them in his book.
”Alright, last but not least is Trunks.“ Gohan called out to him, snapping the boy out of a daydream.
”Oh, ok...“ He reluctantly stood and read from the paper, ”Last summer, I mostly stayed at home, played video games and studied. I went to the beach with my mom a few times....uhh I watched TV and...uh yeah.“ He sat back down.
”...that's it? That's all you wrote?“ Gohan glared at his student, hoping he had a good response.
”Yeah.“ Trunks replied, thinking nothing of it.
”Trunks, you had half an hour and you wrote 3 sentences.“ Gohan sounded stern and the class silently watched.
”Well, you already know what I did last summer, Gohan-“ Trunks gasped and the class was confused.
”Wait, is he your brother?“ The boy next to Trunks, who was also his good friend asked and the whole class started chatting.
Gohan cleared his throat and sighed,
”Yes...well...I am very close to Trunks, our families are too...but this does not mean I favour him over any of you.“ He calmed the situation, then spoke directly to Trunks,
”I need you to show the same level of respect to me as everyone else in here, too, ok? It is the morning of the first day, so I will let this slide, but please give more effort.“
Trunks nodded, but rolled his eyes, slumping back in his chair, when Gohan turned to the whiteboard and wrote down the title of the next lesson, before collecting in the students' essays and handing out exercise books.
The next lesson would be a boring maths lesson, which Trunks sat through. He was ahead of his peers in scientific and mathematical subjects, thanks to his master's teaching, so sitting through a recap of something he found so simple was like watching paint dry.
Whenever Trunks raised his hand, he felt like Gohan always asked someone else. He didn't like being ignored.
He knew the answers to everything, it was incredibly annoying to hear someone who clearly didn't know something harder than expanding brackets in algebra, try to solve the equation on the board that Trunks could do in his head.
Gohan was encouraging and made sure the students felt no shame in making mistakes.
”Alright, Cherri, so now you need to get the unknowns on one side of the equation.“ Gohan advised her, writing on the board the step she just explained with his help.
The girl stammered, her face going a little red from the attention.
”The answer is 4!“ Trunks, finally fed up, called out the answer.
”Well, yes, that is correct, but I wasn't asking you, I was asking Cherri.“ Gohan put down his pen and his serious tone returned.
”She obviously didn't know!“ Trunks folded his arms, determined to not apologise for doing what he thought was right.
”It's rude to interrupt, regardless.“ Gohan told him, before moving on.
Finally, it was time for break and when Trunks decided he was going to talk to Gohan, he was surprised to find girls in his class talking to him instead, asking him tons of questions.
”So, you work out?“ One asked, taking a look at his arms.
”Of course he does, just look at him!“ Her friend cut in and Gohan blushed and nodded, explaining his reasons, which Trunks knew to be false.
”Oh, hey, Trunks!“ Gohan spotted him and took his opportunity to get out of that conversation.
”I wanted to have a chat about before.“ He approached his pupil, who was causing him some concern.
”Oh...same.“ Trunks fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper, something he always did when he was nervous, which Gohan took notice of.
”Why did you feel like you could do that?“ Gohan's voice was calm; it always made Trunks feel more at ease.
”I dunno...it just felt like...you were ignoring me. I just got a bit fed up...because I already knew the stuff and you weren't asking me.“ The teen shrugged his shoulders, not meeting his eye.
”Trunks,“ Gohan placed his hand on his shoulder, making the boy glance up at him.
”I just want to know what the others know. I know you're able to do this, but most of them aren't.“
Gohan did make sense, but Trunks was stubborn. His mother said it was a trait of his father, though she was stubborn too.
”I spend a lot of time with you...and I love spending time with you...but it's not fair to give you all my focus...
You know I really love you, right?“
That was enough to make Trunks smile.
”I know...thanks, Gohan...I mean Mr Son.“ Trunks giggled before running off.
Gohan watched as the other kids played together gleefully. It was heartwarming to see them be actual kids and enjoy their disrupted youth. It only made him more determined to fight for their safety and teach them well.
'I might be an even better teacher than you, Mr Piccolo...'
He smirked, hoping Piccolo could hear him somewhere, feeling proud of him.
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amethystpath-writes · 4 years ago
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Power Fatigue
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Original Work
Power Fatigue
@badthingshappenbingo
Short Description: Hero abandoned Sidekick, but Villain saved them. They go to Hero to confront him.
******
There was heavy breathing on the other line of the phone call. Villain smiled. "Such wrath, Hero." The other end went silent. He almost laughed. Hero had muted herself.
Looking at his phone for a moment, he shrugged, clicking the 'hang up' button before pocketing the device. Then, he turned the handle in front of him, pushing the heavy back-entrance door open. "Herooo? You in here?"
Hero's base was an old school, one that had supposedly shut down because of mass amounts of mold, rats scurrying about, and bed bugs in clinic beds. This was far from the truth though. Sidekick told Villain as much. Hero bribed the school to sell to him, then bought the school. He podged up the outside, made the rumour look true, and decorated the inside to be a lovely base and home.
Villain beat a fist against a locker, continuing down the hall. "Hero, I don't feel like playing hide and seek today. We do it often enough with your always running away." There was no answer, and no movement.
Okay, screw it. If Hero wanted to pretend like he didn't hear, then Villain would make himself loud enough that he couldn't be ignored.
Walking to the still makeshift office, Villain picked up a phone at the front desk, pushing a button that simply said 'All'. A radio noise sounded before there was a click. "Did you ever watch the movie Singing in the Rain?" Perhaps a bit cheesily, Villain began singing into the intercom. He could vaguely hear his own voice in the speakers. "I'm singing in the schoolhouse! I'm singing in the schoolhouse!" He sighed. "You ought to put me out of my misery, Hero. I have a fear of singing in public."
"You shouldn't. I always thought you had a lovely voice."
Villain turned hearing Sidekick's voice. He smiled, but it quickly faltered. "You need to leave. You know how to get into my home. Go- before our little hero learns what you've done." His voice wasn't panicked, but it had a cautionary and strategic tone.
"I'm not afraid of him, Villain."
He shook his head. "I didn't say- nor ask if- you were. But you know what he's capable of, and I don't want you in the mix of it."
Sidekick was stubborn, saying, "I'm just as capable as either of you." She crossed her arms. "I can take him, especially if you're at my side. Let me stay with you." She came closer, taking Villain's hands in her own and rubbing her thumbs across his skin. "I've been fighting against you all this time. I want to fight with you now."
"And I'm telling you no." Villain stole his hands away. "Let me take care of this. I'll have him wrapped like a present when I come home, okay? I know you want to help, but it's not necessary. Hero's going to know you're working with me either way, and he's going to be pissed either way, but if he sees you here...Sidekick, I don't want you getting hurt. Please, please just go home."
Now it was Sidekick who shook her head and Villain knew not to argue anymore. There was no point because if Sidekick weren't so stubborn, they'd be dead. It was her stubbornness that saved her life before. Maybe it would keep her alive today.
A phone rang behind the desk and Villain eyed it with caution.
"It'll be Hero calling from another room."
"Do you guys seriously pay for all of these phones still? That's gotta cost a fortune."
Sidekick gave a small laugh. "It's more like an advanced walkie talkie system. We don't- I don't- he doesn't-" She took a deep breath. "No one pays for service."
Villain said, "You're nervous."
"I'm not. Pick up the phone or else I will. It'll ring three- two- more times."
He shook his head, but obliged, not wanting the reveal to happen a moment sooner than...well, Villain wasn't sure when Hero would put two and two together. Either way, the later he knew Sidekick betrayed him, the better.
Picking up the phone, Villain answered gloriously, as if he weren't terrified of something happening to Sidekick. "Villain speaking! Who is in due pleasure of speaking to me?"
"Room 202." The audio clicked then remained in a long fuzz. Villain dropped the phone into its spot.
Villain swallowed his fear. It was Hero's anger that he was afraid of, but Villain was capable of the same anger. On a normal day, he was stronger than Hero, which meant that if both he and Villain were fueled by anger today, then it would be like any other day. Nothing would happen to Sidekick. Villain wouldn't allow it.
Still, Villain asked, "You're sure you want to face him?"
Sidekick nodded.
"Alright. Room 202 we go. Feel free to lead the way."
She squinted. Shook her head. "Call 202's extension- there's a list in the top right drawer that will tell you what to punch in. Tell Hero you'll meet in the Gymnasium. If he tries to direct you back to Room 202, say you'll only meet in the gym, auditorium, or music room- which is Room 126."
Fear was still clutching onto Villain. He kept trying to convince himself that everything would be okay, and that he had this, but... Gee, he'd never been afraid of Hero, and he couldn't say that he was afraid of him now. There was just this growing pit in Villain's stomach that told him something would go wrong- that Sidekick would get hurt, or worse, be killed.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this."
Sidekick was taken back by surprise. "Are you serious?" He looked her dead in the eye, silent. "You are." She sighed and walked to him, taking his hands all over again. "We're fine, Villain. Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise."
Her hands were warm, meaning her blood was rushing, heart beating quickly. She was either excited or as equally scared as Villain was. He knew it was the latter. Sidekick had stuttered so much earlier and changed the subject when he mentioned the possibility of her being nervous. Her hot hands confirmed what he already knew.
"We should do this when we're both ready. Right now, neither of us are in the right frame of mind to fight," Villain explained.
"You'd rather wait for him to surprise attack us?"
"Well, no, but-"
"We have the advantage right now, Villain. I know the base inside and out. There's two of us and one of him. We know when we'll attack. He doesn't. We're fine, okay?" She raised her brows. "We have this."
Villain closed his eyes, focused on the hands holding his own. He nodded. "Okay." He nodded a second time, and with an exhale, said again, "Okay." Villain let his hands fall from Sidekick's before he picked up the phone and opened the drawer sidekick mentioned before.
He made his call, though he had to confide with Sidekick in quiet whispers and mouthing words in order to remember all of the numbers she'd mentioned. In the end, they agreed to meet in the music room.
Agreed was a polite term when you considered how they were meeting to beat one another.
Sidekick interrupted at one point to tell Villain not to use the Gymnasium because there was an upper level where there was a weight room. She also advised against the auditorium because of a catwalk above. The safest place, really, was the music room. Truly, the safest place was outside, in the open, but Sidekick made it clear that she wouldn't put others in danger.
***
While on their way to the designated room, Villain said, "Glad you thought of his vantage points."
"Yeah, I'm- uh- sorry I didn't realize sooner."
He grabbed her swaying hand as they walked. How odd they were. A hero and a villain, walking with hands held between them, about to fight another hero because he'd become a villain. The scenario was all kinds of whacked up and Villain couldn't quite remember how all of it had played out. Falling in love with Sidekick had been gradual, he knew, but he wished he remembered the exact moment he knew he loved her.
"You could have not said anything at all. It's not like you would have been betraying me- me being a villain and all." He nudged her shoulder lightly, and tilted his head to see the smirk he proudly painted on her face.
"You're not a villain," she said.
"I never thought I was one either."
She turned her head to look at him, eyes squinted. Before she could ask anything further, they came to the door of the music room. Room 126.
Villain asked quietly, "If the problem with the gym is that he can unexpectedly attack from above...why don't we open this door now, and then head to the gym. He'll have to look for us, and we'll have enough time to prepare ourselves."
Sidekick agreed, and so they opened the door to the music room, knowing Hero would be waiting for them to walk in. When they didn't, he'd be forced to look for them.
***
Sidekick stood at one door while Villain stood at the other. Same wall, but different sides of the room. Villain wanted to look at her, to just see her and feel that she was safe in her gaze, but he knew he needed to look forward, watch for Hero instead.
Villain needed to be prepared, but how could he when his heart was beating so thunderously against his chest? It even felt like it was beating in Sidekick's direction, trying to bring him closer to her.
"Remind me again why we're spread this far apart?"
Sidekick answered, "Larger range between targets. If we were glued at the hip like you want, he'd take us out easily."
Villain nodded, said no more, kept his eyes on the opening on either side of the opposite wall. He also watched the railing above them both- a weight room just like Sidekick said.
There were a few doors in the center. A set of double doors that apparently led to a storage room for things like basketballs, dodgeballs, and hula hoops. A door to the left which was a girl's locker room, but was now used to display trophies Sidekick had won in high school. The door to the right of the storage room was the boy's locker room and did the same for Hero that it did Sidekick. And there was one last door to the right of the boy's room, which used to serve as an office, but was now used as a computer room. Villain tried not to think of how much information was in that room, stored on various flash drives and SD cards.
"Sidekick?"
Villain's attention snapped to the left of the room, where Hero stood. The fear Villain felt before was replaced with a stone-hard fury. He wanted nothing more than to launch himself at the self-proclaimed hero and tackle him to the ground.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's me." Sidekick said, and Villain could tell that she was still frightened. He didn't dare look at her for fear that Hero might take it as an opportunity to strike at her.
"What are you-" Hero turned his head, peering at Villain. Almost immediately, Villain could tell he tensed up. "He's forcing you to be here, isn't he?" Hero's eyes darted to Sidekick, but mostly remained on Villain. "Has he used mind control?"
Villain huffed a laugh and smiled. "You're still trying to pull that lie?" He could feel Sidekick look over at him. She hadn't known who Hero was until he left her to die. She still didn't know him, it seemed.
Hero's eyes flickered between potential exits. There weren't so many that Villain or Sidekick couldn't reach in time to catch him. It turned out the gym had been the best place after all.
"Look," Villain began, and he took several steps forward, crossing his arms. Would it be easy to throw a punch in this position? No, it wouldn't be, but Hero was easily intimidated by crossed arms and confidence. Hero wouldn't attack as long as Villain didn't falter. "I promised Sidekick that I would avoid kicking your ass, but even she knows that it might be necessary."
"You make it sound like I can negotiate." Hero was still tensed, but he relaxed just a tad at the possibility of getting out of this unscathed.
Villain smiled. "Not exactly."
He watched Hero's eyes dart over to Sidekick again and again. He was still piecing it together. He knew Villain didn't have mind control; that was a lie he created so that the media would despise Villain, and therefore consider Hero a true hero. The only other consideration to make was that Sidekick betrayed him. How long until the idea was confirmed in his mind?
"I want you to turn yourself over to the local news coverage. Tell them who you are. And before you do that," Villain had the confidence now to look at Sidekick and hold a gesturing hand out to her. "I want you to tell your partner who you are. She knows your a deserter already, but she deserves to know the rest. You want to talk about mind control, how about you tell her how you've manipulated everyone in the nearby communities?"
Now it was Sidekick who spoke up. "Villain?" Her eyes switched between Hero and Villain both. "Hero?" Someone needed to speak up. What was both sides hiding?
"Hero, are you going to talk? Or do I need to take action like I said I would avoid?" He glanced at Sidekick. "I know this is different from the plan, but I believe this will be more beneficial." He returned a smirk to Hero.
"I don't think I'm the one who needs to explain myself," Hero said. "Sidekick, your with Villain. You want to tell me about that?"
Sidekick flustered, no doubt feeling a sort of guilt. This was exactly why Villain wanted Hero to tell her what all he'd done. So that when this conversation- about her betraying him- she wouldn't feel awfully.
"I fought for you to get out," Sidekick said after taking a deep breath. "I. Fought. For. You. And I nearly killed myself doing so. You made it out." She paused. "You made it out and you never came back to help me. You knew it took all of my power to get you out, to keep all of that debris above the ground so you could crawl out. I couldn't move, Hero. You knew I wouldn't make it out, and yet, even after you were safe, you never even tried to get help, to get me out. You left me to die."
There it is, Villain thought. There's her anger. He was proud of her- for stomping down the fear she felt. He knew how hard it was. He'd done it himself at least five times in the last three hours.
Before Hero could defend himself, Sidekick continued. "Villain saved me. Not you, not the man they praise on TV as being selfless and caring and generous. Villain saved me. And he has cared for me sense. When I was still exhausted from exerting myself, he carried me to his home. He bandaged me. He fed me. He gave me a bed to sleep on. And what were you doing?"
Now's the time.
"I- well..." Hero glanced nervously at Villain, whose arms were still crossed. "You told me to leave, Sidekick. You told me to get out of there, so I did. You can't be angry at me for that. You see, he has tampered with your mind."
Villain sighed. "Hero, you grasping onto that concept like it's your lifeline. It can't protect you forever." He rose a brow when the supposed hero didn't respond. "Still not going to talk? Alright." Villain looked to Sidekick. "He ever let you in that computer room you told me about?" He pointed to the door, not waiting for an answer before speaking because he already knew the answer.
"When Hero and I were friends in high school, he used to journal on his desktop about all the guilty things he'd done. Things like stealing cookies off of unaware kids' trays, getting that one solo instead of the only freshman in our choir, stuff like that." Villain chuckled. "He didn't used to step on people until it was time for college applications. He realized he was only good enough for the mediocre schools. Hero always aspired to be someone great, but he lost faith in himself. Guess I was the easiest person to make a target out of. Isn't that right, Hero?"
He hadn't spoken this whole time, only bit his tongue. Hero nodded now, lips pressed tight.
"Wait. What are you saying?" Sidekick asked, but the question was more directed at Hero than Villain.
"I became a villain when he pointed fingers, started making massive claims making me out to be a horrible person."
Despite having already nodded, Sidekick asked Hero, "Is he telling the truth?"
"This isn't- but he- Sidekick, how could you even consider being on his side? I know I left you, but it's because you told me to go."
Villain interjected, "Or he only cared to save himself."
"I didn't tell you to never come back for me! You were safe as soon as you got out. Meanwhile I was being crushed because I used every ounce of my abilities so that you didn't get crushed!" Sidekick breathed so heavily that Villain and Hero could both hear her. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. What did you think happened to me when you didn't see me for so long after the accident?"
Hero shrugged. "I thought you died."
"And is that what you told the reporters?"
"More or less."
"What did you say to them?" Sidekick demanded.
Villain felt completely foolish for ever thinking Hero's anger would overcome them. He supposed he wasn't thinking from Hero's perspective at all, but his own. Because if he truly saw Hero as a villain and his partner suddenly revealed themselves to be said villain's new partner, he'd be furious. Villain would fight like hell to get to a partner that betrayed him like that. But, Villain acknowledged, Hero has known all along that I'm the good guy between us. Hero couldn't possibly be mad at Sidekick for a false scenario.
"I told them that you sacrificed your life for mine." Hero took subtle steps backward, but not settle enough. Villain was far enough away that he could see Hero's whole body, and therefore could see every move he made. Villain held his hand up threateningly, stopping Hero in his tracks.
"I want to see your desktop," Sidekick declared. She didn't wait to start sauntering toward the door she needed.
***
Villain stood in the doorway, watching to make sure Hero didn't do anything out of sorts. He didn't think his old friend would kill anyone to maintain his false identity, but he wasn't sure. The stuff that he pinned on Villain was worthy of death, so he might as well have killed him.
Something for Villain to be somewhat happy, and yet also severely disappointed, about was the number of pages written about him. Every moment Hero considered undermining Villain, every time he did undermine him, or pin him, blame him, accuse him. There were also various pages detailing how badly he'd deceived Sidekick.
Speaking of Sidekick, after about two hours of reading and asking questions, she slammed the mouse on the table before standing and walking briskly out of the room. "I'm ready to leave. Damn whatever happens to him. I don't want to see or hear of him ever again," she said on her way out- or rather yelled.
Villain followed her out of the room, but stopped halfway through the gymnasium. He said to Hero, "I don't have the patience to deal with you right now, but just know that if you don't come out about all of this yourself, I won't hesitate to actually become your villain. Understood?"
Hero swallowed with a nod, and Villain took his leave.
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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years ago
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Unbelievable || Dustin H. x Fem!Reader
Requested: @im-eating-rn Hi!hello!May I request? A little Dustin x reader where nobody of Dustin's friends believe that he got a girlfriend who goes to a different school but he actually does? they always meet in the arcade? And then maybe Dustin finally set up a meet up with his friends and his little gf at a party? And everybody is start asking since when and how? And Dustin's mother (bless her sweet soul I love her) is just like "oh yeah they are together since idk... hi y/n sweetheart!" I just love them.
A//N: this prompt is absolutely freaking adorable and I love it but I apologize in advance if any of the interactions between reader and Dustin seem forced. I'm so used to writing the reader as Dustin's sibling so this was tricky to write😂
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"Come on, Dustin! I bet they're just teasing you. They're your friends, I'm sure they believe you," You rubbed your boyfriend's back soothingly, trying to comfort him.
"You'd think so," he sighed, putting his head in his hands. "But I know those assholes and I can tell when they're teasing and this is not it."
You continued tracing circles in his back, falling silent but still offering your support.
He took his head out of his hands and smiled, looking at you.
"Then again, I can't say I blame them."
"What do you mean, hun?" You asked, brow furrowed.
"You are pretty unbelievable"
You blushed furiously and you felt your chest grow warm.
"Oh, Dustin." You smiled brightly and leaned in giving him a tender kiss.
The two of you pulled away, and you intertwined your fingers with his and rested your head on his shoulder.
"So why don't we set something up?" You said simply. "A little get together at your house. You can invite your friends over. And I can swing by and meet them. Besides some homework I gotta get done, I'm free Friday. What do you say?"
He looked at you adoringly, as usual, and smiled.
"That sounds perfect. Have I ever told you how awesome you are?"
Your face scrunched up in a playful manner, you peered up at him. "Not today, you haven't."
Your head moved with his shoulders as he chuckled. "You are unbelievably awesome."
You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you smiled as your eyes focused on a random spot on the wall.
"I can't wait for you to meet them" he said contently. "And for you to wipe those smug smiles off their faces."
You giggled picturing the sight. You couldn't wait either.
+++
"No offence Dustin, but do you want to head to the arcade or something?" Will asked timidly. "There's not exactly a lot to do here,"
Dustin, whose eyes kept flickering to the door, something his friends picked up on, brushed off the comment.
"Uh yeah, maybe later though" his voice sounded distant, he was distracted.
"Dude, what is up with you?" Lucas asked.
"Oh, it's nothing," Dustin mumbled.
He shook his head briefly, taking his eyes off the front door and stood up. "I'm gonna get something to drink, does anyone want anything? I've got cola,"
"I'm good," Mike shrugged.
"Same here," Lucas said.
"I'll have a cola," Will said.
Dustin nodded and retreated to the kitchen, leaving the three boys who looked at one another.
"Something's not right, man." Lucas whispered.
"Yeah something's definitely up," Will said.
The boys fell silent when they heard footsteps approaching and sure enough Dustin emerged holding two cans of cola. He handed the can to Will who mumbled a thanks.
Dustin made his way to the couch and just before he could sit, the doorbell rang. He jumped up quickly and scrambled to the door, his friends sharing weary looks.
"I think you guys will find my guest very interesting." He said smugly, over his shoulder.
He grasped the doorknob and swung the door open, Dustin spoke confidently. "Hello, my lo-"
In front of him stood a very confused mailman holding a package.
Lucas and Mike stifled their laughter and Will was having difficulties keeping the amused grin off his face. He hid behind his drink and took a sip.
"Um, package for Mrs. Henderson?"
"Great, thanks, okay bye." Dustin took the package swiftly and reached for the door to close it but the man spoke up.
"Sir, you have to sign for it."
Letting out a weak chuckle, Dustin quickly grabbed the clipboard and scribbled his signature with the attached pen on a chain, and shoved the clipboard back into the man's hands and hurriedly shut the door.
Sighing, he leaned against the door, thankful that the exchange was over with. But when he saw the peculiar look on his friends faces he knew what was coming.
"Just save it alright?" He grumbled.
He trudged back to the couch and landed on the cushions and let himself sink into the pillows.
"You were saying?" Lucas quipped, quirking an eyebrow and smirking.
"Shut it, Sinclair."
Lucas chuckled and Mike got up and took a seat next Dustin on the couch.
"You wanna tell us what all that was all about?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Before he could answer, a brief series of rhythmic and gentle knocks came from the front door.
Dustin, who recognized your pattern of knocks - something he picked up on somewhere along the way - and he knew this was Y/n.
Plastering on a smug smile, he looked to Mike.
"Why don't you find out yourself?"
Mike frowned, and looked over his shoulder to the door, briefly making eye contact with Will and Lucas before looking back to Dustin.
"Please, be my guest." He urged.
Dustin gestured to the front door and Mike stood, making his way over to answer it.
Mike had no idea what to expect, but when he opened the door he was still surprised to see a girl their age, standing on the front porch. You looked as if you were just as confused to see Mike as he was to see you.
You recognized him almost immediately from the pictures you had seen. It was just odd having someone else answer the door that wasn't Dustin.
He always answered the door when he was expecting you. Even the times where you could hear Mrs. Henderson call out to you that she would get it, it would usually be followed by a muffled thud and a slew of curses as Dustin scrambled to get there first.
You smiled politely. You recognized Mike from the pictures around Dustin's house and you figured they had been giving him crap or something and that's why Mike answered the door.
"Hi, you're Mike right? I'm Y/n," you stuck our your hand out for him to shake and in his confused daze he shook your hand as if he was on autopilot. "Where's Dustin?"
"Over here, Y/n/n." Dustin called wistfully.
You smiled, and rather than wait for Mike to let you in - it didn't look like the thought ever occurred to him - you stepped passed him, knowing you were invited anyway.
You stepped into the front room and you noted the delayed sound of Mike closing the door behind you and he wandered past you and back to his seat.
You looked at each of the boys, Will and Lucas gaping at you as well.
"Hi there," You met Will's eye and smiled. "You must be Will and that would make you Lucas?"
They each nodded respectively and Dustin got up, joining your side. He gently put his arm around you, a gesture you welcomed.
"Gentlemen, this is Y/n," He wore a beaming smile, looking at you fondly before looking back to his friends. "My girlfriend"
"Wait, seriously?" Lucas asked, dumbfounded.
Your smile grew brighter, albeit a bit smug, and you nodded proudly. "It's true. We've been together for some time now."
"So," Will spoke up. "You're the Y/n?"
"The one and only. And it's my understanding that you guys have been a bit "skeptical", you made air quotes as you said this, but out of politeness you kept them hidden at your sides. "about me and Dustin?"
Lucas opened his mouth to speak but the words seemed to have died on his tongue.
The guys did believe you existed of course. You and Dustin had met at the arcade, fighting over who got to play dig dug first. You had both gotten to the machine at the same time, but fought over it.
Dustin didn't argue that much, and gave the machine up to you. Not that he thought you couldn't win on your own or anything, but because he was more than fine waiting his turn for it if it meant having a reason to spend more time with you. A fact he had kept to himself. You two ended up taking turns on the game, each of you trying to beat each other's scores. Dustin had caught his friends up the next day at school, inadvertently gushing about the awesome girl he met at the arcade the previous day.
This adoration for you continued for weeks, the guys quickly lost interest and got fairly annoyed. He would find a way to bring you up in any conversation. "Y/n said the funniest thing today," and "I wish Y/n was here, she'd know just what to do," or "It's funny you say that, Y/n was just telling me about..." Eventually, one of them snapped one day, making some comment about he needed to get over her and Dustin retorted that as a matter of fact, he asked you out for a lunch date and you said yes.
A mixture of bad timing and irritation from the guys' side is what caused their disbelief. That and how highly he spoke of you. Surely no one was that perfect.
Any time he mentioned you from then on, something you did or said, anything involving you his girlfriend, they just assumed he didn't want to be caught in an embarrassing lie and kept up the act. For the sake of his dignity.
Yet they still couldn't quite shake the doubt that had taken root in their minds. Small parts in the back of their brian fed them alternate scenarios, any suggestion that could possible make sense all because if they admitted they were wrong they knew they had been bad friends.
Maybe you were just doing Dustin a favor by coming here and saying these things. Hell, maybe you found out he liked you and you didn't recproacte the feeling and as an act of pity, you agreed to lying for him just to shut them up. It was a definite stretch, but it was possible right?
No matter the doubt, however crazy the scenario, it didn't do anything to help the guilt that settled heavily on their concious. But in the whirlwind of it all, their attention was pulled to the front door for the third time that day to see Mrs. Henderson walk through the door, coat on, groceries and her keys in her hands.
She smiled brightly and greeted the boys, who politely greeted her back and when she saw you her lips stretched into a big grin.
"Y/n, honey! What a lovely surprise!" She set down the grocery bag and walked over to you.
She enveloped you with her signature mama bear hug and you gladly accepted the familiar embrace.
Pulling back, she inspected you, plucking a few cat hairs from your shoulder that had attached themselves to you during her hug. You were not fazed by this, you had gotten quite familiar with her motherly behavior. She went nuts for you when you met her and everytime you were around she doted on you more than she did Dustin if at at possible.
"Oh, how have you been sweetheart?"
You smiled warmly. "I'm great thank you. How are you?"
She gushed. "Oh I'm just fine, thank you sweetie. So tell me, what are you kids up to? Dusty, have you offered your friends a drink yet?"
"Yes mom," he said, a hint of impatience in his tone. "I was just introducing them to Y/n,"
Dustin made firm eye contact with each of his friends, reveling in the fact that they were finally listening.
"In fact, we were just clearing up some questions they had." He smiled smugly at his friends and they struggled maintaining eye contact.
"Oh, I remember when Dusty here was so excited when he first told me you guys had finally planned a first date. Gosh, he could not stop talking about you honey," Her loving gaze shifted from you to the other boys. "He was so nervous too."
"Mom!"
"It was so adorable," She giggled. "Hard to believe it's been almost a whole year now, isn't it?"
When they heard this from Mrs. Henderson, that was the final confirmation. Lucas, Mike and Will all felt immediately crushed by guilt and sent their friend many apologetic looks and apologized profusely the rest of the night.
In fact, it took them a very long time before they finally stopped apologizing. Even a scattered one here and there months after it happened.
Of course, that may or may not have had something to do with the fact that you never let them forget it.
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it-me-ari · 4 years ago
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Some fluffy Gabriel stuff idk
Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I've decided to try this thingie called "selfshipping" or something idk man. Anyway, this is me writing about me and Gabriel, it's gonna be cringey pls don't judge. (Also please note that my english is not the best so there will be mistakes)
At the risk of angering Crowley by stealing his line, I entered the room with a casual, very british "Hello boys" to Sam and Dean, who just came back from a hunt. Both of them looked up and smiled tiredly and greeted me with warm hugs, which was much appreciated by me, I love hugs. After they told me everything about the hunt, while eating the chilli I made them, I sent them to shower and get some rest. When they were finally asleep I went up to my room in the bunker and looked at the photos at the wall, that showed me and my old friends during happier times.
I've been hunting with the Winchesters for almost a year now and somehow we became family, after all they're all I've got now. They picked me up after a pack of werewolves killed my friends during our first vacation without our parents. I only survived because I could hide long enough for Sam and Dean to arrive and kill them all. After they explained everything I was determined to became a hunter too and begged the brothers to teach me, they agreed after I used my puppy eyes. I was never exactly close to my parents so I didn't bother telling them that I went hunting monsters with two strangers, it's not like they would notice my disappearance anyway.
On the following evening I heard the boys talking to an unfamiliar voice coming in library when I returned from grocery shopping. I was very curious to see who they were talking to but I turned to the kitchen first and refilled our stocks. Then I went to the library, where I found Sam and Dean talking to a man with blonde hair, wearing an old jean combined with a leather jacket, that was all I noticed, since he had his back turned to me. And also he wasn't very tall. Before I could say anything Sam looked up and smiled: "Hey Angel." They called me 'Angel', like some of my friends used to, because my real name was too long for them. The stranger turned around and eyed me curiously. Damn he was handsome, I didn't expect this. "And who is this cutie?" he asked the brothers with a playful smile, while he kept looking at me. I was probably supposed to blush or giggle in a cute way, like girls always did when a good looking guy made them a compliment. Instead I just smiled akwardly and looked away. "Thanks" I murmured and left the introductions to the Winchesters. Not that I wasn't flattered or happy that pretty boy thought I was cute, I just didn't know how the react properly, since I wasn't really used to being complimented. The moment unknown dude called me 'cute' a frown appeared on Dean's forehead and he was about to put the stranger in his place when Sam stepped in with a polite smile to avoid a fight. "Angel, this is the archangel Gabriel, he's a friend. Gabriel, this is Angel, she's family." Before anyone could say something Dean interrupted: "which means you are not allowed to call her cute or try anything funny under my watch! Do we understand each other?!" he growled, narrowing his eyes. Gabriel was unfaced by the thread, instead he threw a sassy grin at him. "What if you're not watching? I could arrange that, if you want?" Dean rolled his eyes and moved a little closer to me. "You know how I meant that." That was all he said, it wasn't necessary to say more. "Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you, Angel." Gabriel finally said and gave me his hand with an adorable smile.
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"Nice to meet ya too." I answered shyly and shook his hand, I couldn't look hin in the eyes for more than a few seconds. Finally he turned away from me and sat down on one of the armchairs standing around. The brothers and I sat down on the large couch, standing next to the chair. Somehow I ended up between Sam and Dean, with Dean still throwing threatening glances at Gabriel, who didn't seem to care or was even amused by that. "Then let's get back to business, shall we? I am here for a reason after all." Gabriel asked in a cheerful voice and beamed at the rest of us. The next few minutes he explained the details of a possible case near Washington DC. I was quiet most of the time while the boys discussed the case, I just threw in a few facts every now and then. Finally we decided to let the topic rest until the next day and Dean pulled out a bottle of whisky from god knows where, to fill our glasses. The rest of the evening was spent with casual conversation. To my surprise I got along with Gabriel, or Gabe (as he insisted I should call him), very well. After my second glass of strong scottish whisky I finally found the courage to talk to him and didn't stop. Luckily one of us was responsible *coughs* Sam *coughs* and took away my glass before I got too drunk. This way it was a very nice evening that got me a new friend. "I think I'll go to sleep now" I finally said, unable to stop myself from yawing every five minutes. I got up without staggering (I was almost sober after all but still, it was an accomplishment) and looked around with a tired smile. "I'll escort you to bed, if that's okay?" Offered Gabriel perfectly polite and with another adorable smile. Dean didn't look too happy about it but he let it slide, thanks to Sam whispering something in his ear. Meanwhile I looked at Gabe with a confused expression. "Uhhh sure.." I finally answered and nodded slowly, not sure what exactly was going on. Gabriel just smiled and took my arm, together we walked to my bedroom. "You stay outside while I change." I ordered hin with a stern gaze. "Of course! What do you think of me?!" Gabe responded, fake offended and with a mischievous spark in his eyes. I just rolled my eyes playfully and shut the door to change into my night gown. When I was finished I sat down on my bed, ready to sleep, as a wild idea crossed my mind. "Gabe?" I called, hoping the angel would still stand in front of my door. "Yes?" Was the immediate response, followed by Gabriel sticking his head through a half opened door. "Would you mind staying with me while I sleep? Like in my bed?" I asked and blushed like, embarrassed with myself. He actually looking a tad surprised at my request at first but that only lasted a few seconds, then he smiled gently. "Like cuddeling?" He asked in a low voice and came closer to me. I just nodded, still embarrassed, I felt very needy, asking a man I met only a couple of hours ago to cuddle. Gabriel's smile broadened as he layed down beside me, wrapping his arms around me. Very carefully I layed my head on his chest and listened to the beat of his heart until I fell asleep.
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skzluvs · 5 years ago
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Wish you were gay; Hwang Hyunjin
Genre: Pure Fluff! Little bit of Angst
Warnings: None
Word count: 1.5 K
A/N: This is just a small filler since I’m currently working on a Felix Au! but I hope you guys really like it.
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“Oh Hwang Hyunjin how much I wish you were gay
Your lack of interest it's been killing me inside
And I can’t stand another day with A growing pain inside my chest
You are cold hearted
Always living up to your title "Ice prince"
I'm the only one who knows you aren't as ruthless as you pretend to be
I have the ability to see right through your persona
But you continuously keep on pushing me away
Despite all of your attempts to avoid my feelings
I'm still here trying to make you understand that my love for you is genuine
Only if one day you were able to see that I'm here
That I've been trying to make you feel okay
As you seem to ignore all of my efforts
I wish you were gay so I could feel less miserable at your indifference”
Who’s not yours but dreams to be sincerely Y/N.
You walked through the corridor holding the little pink notebook which held the unaddressed letters as you were never able to deliver them. They were meant to say all of those unwanted thoughts that lately became loud in your head. You wondered if one day you were going to be able to say all those things to Hyunjin face to face.
Impossible, you thought as you shoved the book into your matching pastel pink backpack. You took a seat at the back of the classroom. Because you knew he liked to seat there. Where he couldn’t be bothered by the rest of the students.
You waited impatiently for his entrance. As usual he will be early because he hated the unnecessary attention. Nonetheless he already got enough for being the most popular student on the whole school.
You tapped your pencil into the desk in exasperation as you heard steps coming your way. You bit your lip trying to suppress the smile that was slowly creeping into your face. There he was wearing a simple white hoodie along with his denim jeans. Casual but still dazzling.
And the truth is that Hwang Hyunjin would make anything look good.
- Hyun...”- you tried to call him but as he walked passed you he didn’t even spared to look your way and continued his tracks to his own seat.
Your smile suddenly became a frown. It was not a novelty that you were being ignored by him but it still hurts to be treated so cruelly.
The bell rang announcing the end of the period
You tried to gather your things slowly as people ran their ways to the door excited for Lunch time. You didn’t mind staying a little longer to be alone with Hyunjin you knew how much he avoided crowds specially the ones involving frenetic students forming during lunch.
When the classroom was empty he stood up from his desk and walked with his hand on his front pockets. Always giving off that cool unapproachable vibe.
You were always mesmerized by his beauty but what attracted you was simply that stubbornness he tried so hard to maintain.
You didn’t tried to hold a conversation with him this time because you weren’t ready to be rejected twice in the span of an hour. Therefore you let him go as you watch him from behind.
After you have gotten your lunch you sat down in one of the tables that were outside the lunchroom. were everything seemed more quiet and reserved just like hyunjin liked. You knew his usual spot was just a few tables away from yours near the big blossom tree.
Pulling out your notebook you wrote
“You are colder than the winter but with a gaze that can melt
Open your heart to me and I’ll never let it freeze
Let me be the sunshine that warms your feelings up when it’s under 0 degrees”
And there he was eating his food in such a tranquil way that it even made you feel contented at the peaceful sight. Some girls approached him breaking the harmonious atmosphere.
You observed carefully as he send them death stares from disturbing him but they didn’t seemed to care as they sat down trying to caught his attention. You knew hyunjin couldn’t stand people following him and trying to talk to him just because of his popularity. So you thought about helping him even if he treated you as harshly as he treated the rest.
You made your way to the table. The girls were obnoxiously giggling and hyunjin kept on looking uncomfortably at the cold food that rested on his plate.
He was more of ignoring them than actually telling people off he acted heartless but he definitely wasn’t rude.
“Hey Ladies aren’t you supposed to have somewhere else to be” you said clearing your throat to make yourself noticed.
“Y/N don’t you have books to read go back to dreamland and mind your own business” The leader spoke, looking at you in disbelief.
Your knees shakes a little what were you doing standing up for the boy who didn’t even acknowledge your existence. It seemed stupid but you were surely not going to regret this.
“Books actually increase your intellect you should try reading some one of these days I mean there’s still lots of space in that empty head of yours” You backfired with confidence.
“ Are you trying to pick up a fight with me” she said defying me.
“certainly not, but hyunjin and I have things to discuss so I’m politely asking you all to leave”
“Hyunjin doesn’t have time to waste on someone like you Y/N stop saying nonsense and get lost”
“ Well it seems like he doesn’t want any of you here since you basically invited yourselves he’s just nice enough to not tell you that you are bothersome but I am not that nice so why don’t you go and trouble someone else’s lunch time” You smile sarcastically at them and they walked off not before telling Hyunjin they’ll talk later.
After they left silence filled out the whole entire ambience. You were about to speak but he turned his head looking the other way with his cold face. You weren’t expecting a thank you or anything but it seemed like your presence wasn’t too pleasant for hyunjin either.
knowing you were never going to be able to reach someone so highly illustrious as him you lowered your head. Thinking how stupid was for you to keep on trying you seemed like a push over that’s probably what he thinks of you YN- you said as a whisper before you pulled your bag from the table and threw it on your shoulder walking off with nothing but shame.
Back in the classroom you were writing math notes when a sudden thought came across your mind.
Today you had been ignored multiple times and you needed you pour all those sad thoughts into your confident. Scanning your bag the pink covered book was nowhere to be found and desperation was all you could feel.
You excused yourself from the classroom as you tried to search for that such important diary everywhere. At the lunchroom, at the tables, at the restroom, the hallways, your own locker everywhere.
You were about to go insane those pages held more than your immense admiration for hyunjin it held the pain of an unrequited love. If someone was to read your letters you were screwed.
What if the girls stole it and they tell hyunjin what if you become the biggest joke of the school and everyone laughs at how pathetic you truly are.
You were terrified to say the least you ran to the cherry blossom tree and slide yourself holding your knees as the tears started to fall off your face.
You felt a slight tap on your shoulder as you were Uncontrollably sobbing. You tried wiping your tears away trying to focus on the person in front of you with blurry vision you were still able to recognize his beautiful face.
“Y/N don’t cry” He said offering you a tissue.
He knew your name you were in a state of shock.
He always pretended not to see you what was he doing now.
When you calmed down a little he offered you a hand so you could stand up.
“Do you really wish I was gay?” he asked confused hiding a big authentic smile.
“What?” you asked even more confused than him until your brain clicked.
He knew
You went speechless your mouth went dry and all You wanted was crying again and hide forever the embarrassment of your worst nightmare.
“How-... I-” you said stumbling down your own words
He lifted a pastel pink covered book that he has been hiding all this time behind his back.
God you wanted to deny it all but you were into deep now. He had all the proof in his own hands.
“I don’t really think you meant it tho” he said getting closer to your face.
“You don’t really wish I was gay because if I was I wouldn’t be able to kiss you” He said almost brushing your pink lips with his own plump ones.
You closed your eyes hoping to close the proximity between them but they felt empty as he rapidly ran from you smiling
“You can kiss me if you can catch me” he said teasing me while holding the book.
I ran behind him giggling at his childish attitude.
For the first time You got to experience the real Hyunjin and You certainly couldn’t be more in love with him.
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memesiders · 5 years ago
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Part 1
Death x OC Office AU
(I'm still obsessed with the Office AU created by @notesz-b so I started writing a little something. It's not the best but I'm proud of it so yeah... Any suggestions for a title or critiques are welcome. Just please be gentle lol)
My eyes flicked to the clock on the wall for what felt like the hundredth time in the past forty five minutes. How much longer would I have to wait? It wasn't like there were a bunch of people here; when I'd arrived there had only been three people in the waiting area. Now, only I remained. Well, me and the woman sitting behind her desk, tapping away at her keyboard. Amber, I think her name was. I flicked my eyes down to her, admiring her long platinum hair that was pulled into a tight ponytail.
Very Ariana Grande of her. Did she get migraines often from the strain on her scalp?
She looked up at me suddenly, cool eyes studying me while one of her perfect brows arched curiously. I smiled awkwardly, embarrassed by being caught for looking too long. She let out a long breath and picked up the phone on the desk, putting it to her ear and hitting a button. My smile dropped and I looked away quickly, nervously tugging at the few loose strands of hair that fell into my face.
"Hello, sir," Amber said, breaking the silence. "Yes, still here..." I cut my eyes back to her. "Yes... Okay. Do you want me to tell her to leave?" My heart dropped into my stomach. Oh no, I was not going to leave here without getting my interview. I shot up and adjusted my bag, walking over to her desk. She hung up as I reached it and turned to me. "I'm sorry, but we have to reschedule your interview. Something's come up and-"
"I need this interview," I cut in, feeling slight guilt at interrupting her. "Please, I really, really need this interview. I've been waiting for almost an hour and-"
"I apologize." Her voice was louder and less kind than it had been. "But the boss is not up to interviewing any potential-"
"Oh, fuck that," I muttered under my breath, walking to the two large office doors. Amber yelled at me to stop but I ignored her, grabbing one of the sleek handles and twisting it. Something hard hit my back and I fell forward, the door swinging open. All I could do was yelp before my face hit the ground and I was being subdued by Office Barbie. I grunted and struggled against her, kicking my legs and swinging back to try and hit her. She grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. I hissed at the action and tried to pull my arm free to no avail; how could someone so tiny be so strong?
"Amber, enough," a deep voice ordered. The weight on top of me disappeared seconds after the command and I pushed myself onto my knees, hugging my throbbing arm to my chest. I glared up at the woman who wasn't even looking at me.
"Should I remove her from the premises, sir?" she asked, the expression on her face clearly saying she wanted the speaker to say yes.
"That won't be necessary," the man sighed. He sounded tired, exhausted even. I turned my head to look at the speaker, my breath escaping me. There was something about him that was almost ethereal. I couldn't tell if it was the pale skin, the long raven hair, or the eyes that seemed to burn like hot embers. Maybe it was none of that and was, instead, the muscles that flexed under the dark suit he wore. One thing was for certain though; he wasn't human.
He wasn't an angel either, nor a demon, the lack of wings proved that. I could practically hear my older sister yelling at me what he was. I should've paid attention to what she told me. Something about ancient beings and being the last of their kind or something like that. Fuck, why hadn't I paid attention?
He cleared his throat and I jumped, shaking off the cloud that had formed around me. I shakily got to my feet and brushed off my skirt and tights, combing a quick hand through my hair. He lazily waved his hand and Amber moved from my side, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Goosebumps rose on my arms as I realized I was now alone with him, and that my first impression was probably the worst that could've happened. "Well?" I jumped again, noting the irritation in his voice. I stared at him with wide eyes, afraid to move for some reason.
He rolled his eyes and sat up straight in his chair, clasping his hands together. "You barge into my office for an interview I canceled and now you have nothing to say?" I made a strangled sound and squeezed the strap of my bag tightly.
"I- I'm, uh, I'm sorry," I managed to choke out, wishing I'd just left instead of bulldozing my way forward. Death scoffed and rubbed his temples, a vein in his neck popping out as he clenched his jaw. I had to do this right before he changed his mind and had Amber throw me out on my ass. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, walking over to his desk with confidence I could only fake at the moment.
"My name is Aziza Banks," I said, offering him my hand. He stared at it for a good minute before finally taking it. We shook and I couldn't help but notice how large his hand was compared to mine, and how cold his skin felt against my palm. I nearly yanked my hand away from the icy touch. He gestured for me to take a seat and I nodded in appreciation, sitting down in one of the nice leather chairs and setting my bag in the other. I pulled out my resumé and placed it in the dark desk, sliding it across to him. "I'm here about the part time receptionist opening."
He nodded but made no move to pick up my resumé. I shifted nervously and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to bounce my leg. I did that whenever I was anxious, and it was taking everything in my to not give in. "What are your qualifications? Experience?"
"If you look inside you'll find-"
"I want to hear them from you." I bit my tongue, holding back the string of curses I wanted to throw his way. He had made me wait an hour, tried to cancel the interview, and now he wanted me to tell him what was so easily accessible to him? God, what a prick.
"It's in my resumé, which I thought you read," I said calmly, adding a bite to my words. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly and he grabbed the folder, flipping through it without looking at it. Instead, he stared at a small bird statue on his desk. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he looked through the file.
"Twenty Four, graduated with a bachelor's in art & design." He snorted quietly and continued down, one of his brows arching. "What is this?" He held up a photograph and I knew my face was redder than a tomato. It was a photo of my younger sister and I wearing fedoras and flipping off the camera. I had my tongue sticking out. Oh God.
"Goddammit, Neema," I muttered under my breath, covering my face with a hand. "I'm so sorry; I think my little sister slipped it in. She's always playing jokes and trying to embarrass me." I dropped my hand and sighed. "I am so, so sorry." He gave me what seemed like a sympathetic look and tucked the picture back into the folder.
"Siblings can be... irritating," he replied, squinting his eyes slightly as he continued to look through my file.
"That's putting it mildly." The corner of his mouth twitched slightly and I fought back a small smile of my own. Silence fell over us after that. I turned my attention to the room we were in, studying everything. There was a couch and a few chairs in one of the corners of the large office, a coffee table in the center of the circle of furniture. Two plants rested in different corners and two large ornate scythes were displayed on a wall, one crossing over the other. Shelves hung on a different wall with books stacked neatly on them and a picture frame with four people in it.
I couldn't make them all out from where I was sitting but I was almost certain the one on the inner left was Death. Underneath The shelves was a bar with a mini fridge and crystal glasses neatly displayed on the countertop. The office, for how large it was, was mostly bare; the man was definitely a minimalist.
I finished looking around and finally turned my attention back to Death, who had been watching me. For how long, I didn't know, but I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw those amber eyes staring at me. I straightened up and gave him a small smile, nodding at my resumé. "There anything else you'd like to know that isn't in there?" I asked politely. He closed the folder and slid it back to me, shaking his head.
"No, thank you." He cleared his throat and clasped his hands together. "I'm sorry, Miss Banks, but I don't think you'd be a right fit." My heart sank and I completely deflated, shoulders dropping.
"What? Why not?" I asked, sounding more pathetic than I'd meant to. Death shrugged.
"I don't see anything in your resumé that suggest that you'd be right for the job. Your degree is in arts & design, not business, communications, or anything that could be useful to my office." I opened my mouth to speak but he continued. "I'm interested in people who can contribute something valuable to me and the company; you have nothing to offer. I'm sorry for wasting your time, have a nice day." With that, he turned his attention to his computer screen. Something started to bubble inside of me, something hot and anxious. I was mad- no, pissed. How could I not be a good fit? How could I not have something valuable to contribute? I could definitely contribute patience; that was evident by the hour I waited outside his fucking office. I slammed my hands down on his desk and stood, scoffing loudly. He looked back at me.
"Are you serious right now?" I laughed, but it wasn't because I was amused. "I spent a chunk of my time in your waiting room while you were in here doing God knows what, only getting a meeting with you after running past and being taken down by your attack dog, only so you can turn me down because you think I can't contribute anything to the office? That I'm not a valuable asset or have something worthy for you?" The bubbling had turned into a fire in the pit of my stomach and I could feel tears pricking the corners of my eyes. Fuck, why did I always cry when I was pissed off? "That's absolute bullshit!" Death regarded me coolly and stood, now towering over me. He was well over 6'0, that was for sure, because I was about that height and I seemed tiny now in comparison. His height didn't discourage me though; I was too angry for that.
"Honestly, you're not making the situation any better for yourself," he replied calmly, as if we were both having a normal conversation. "Do you think you deserve a job here because I made you wait? Or maybe because you got past my 'attack dog'?" I blinked, taken aback.
"Wha- No, of course not!" He was really pissing me off now. He leaned down to me, his face nearly touching mine. I could smell a hint of alcohol on his breath, and something else I couldn't quite place.
"Then why?" Death asked, voice low. He was trying to intimidate me, I knew it. He wasn't going to get that satisfaction; no one ever had and no one ever would. I rocked forward onto my toes, pushing myself up so that our noses brushed. The loose strands of his hair brushed against my cheek, tickling my skin and catching my eyelashes.
"Because I'm qualified and I'm pretty sure I'm the only applicant who hasn't bailed on you because of how long you avoided them," I answered, my voice unable to stay calm. "I can take anything you throw at me and get it done perfectly. I busted my ass getting here and if you give me a chance, I'll show you that I deserve to be here. That I have something of value to bring to the table." Silence fell back over us, our eyes locked in a silent battle. I wasn't about to back down, and I knew he definitely wouldn't; he didn't seem like the type of man to back down from a fight.
I heard a light knock on the door, followed by the sound of it being opened, but my gaze never wavered. "Sir," I heard Amber say. "You brother is waiting for you." Death's eyes burned holes into me but I didn't dare look away. Angels and demons had had their fair share of trying to intimidate me and had failed, this guy wouldn't be the first to break me.
"Which one?" he growled, refusing to drop eye contact. There was a loud bang and I couldn't help but jump and subsequently look over my shoulder. Standing next to Amber was a man about the same height as Death, with dark skin and disheveled hair that fell back over his head and ended in little spikes. It reminded me of a character in some anime Neema tried getting me to watch.
"Brother," he exclaimed, a shit eating grin on his face. "Good to see you!" Death groaned and fell back into his seat.
"Strife," he muttered. Strife sauntered in, holding his arms out.
"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by just to say hi, maybe catch up."
"You live on the other side of town!" I looked between them, suddenly feeling awkward. Death dragged a hand down his face and stared at his brother, the bags under his eyes seeming to deepen. "What do you really want?" Strife clutched his heart and frowned.
"Why, big brother, what do you mean? Can't I just be here for a nice visit with my sibling?"
"No," he replied before Strife could even finish.
"Should I remove him from the premises, sir?" Amber asked, cracking her knuckles. Death and Strife stared at each other, Strife's eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. The building tension in the room made me want to shiver, but instead I fell back into my seat just as Death answered,
"No, thank you, Amber. It'll be fine." She nodded and left, closing the door behind her, but not before casting me a curious glance. Strife continued over and pulled back a chair, sweeping my bag off of the seat without a care to ask me to move it. My purse hit the floor, contents spilling out all over. I sucked in a sharp breath and glared at the man as he plopped down, ignoring me completely.
"Nice manners, asshole," I muttered, scooting out of my seat to pick up my things. I grabbed the dumped items- gum, a pen, my wallet, and an empty candy bar wrapper- and tossed the items back into my bag. As I went to pick it up, a boot came down on the purse strap. I snapped my head up, scowling at him. He smirked and reached for his sunglasses, tipping them up slightly to reveal two intense yellow eyes. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of them; absolutely beautiful.
"Do you know who I am, little girl?" he asked, his tone vaguely threatening. I frowned, yanking the purse strap out from under his boot.
"Yeah," I said, settling back into my seat. "You're the biggest asshole in the city; nice to finally meet you." He stared at me for a few seconds and I wondered if, perhaps, I should have kept my mouth shut. After all, this was the brother of the man I was trying to get to hire me, and he was pretty important himself. He let his glasses fall back over his eyes and, to my surprise, started to laugh. He tipped his head back as he snickered, his body shaking from the laughter. My frown deepened as I watched him; this was definitely not what I'd expected.
"Oh, Creator, that was good," he wheezed out after a few more moments of giggling. He looked to his brother. "Death, where did you find this one? Can I have her?"
"She's not mine," Death hissed, sitting back and rubbing his temples.
"Yes I am," I snapped. I wasn't about to leave here after waiting for an hour without a job.
"Really," Strife sang, turning his attention to me. He leaned on the arm of his chair, resting his chin on his fist as he regarded me. "So how long have you been banging my brother?" My eyes widened at his question. What? I wasn't- how did he think- "He never told me he had a lovely little human on his arm."
"Strife," Death growled, getting no reaction from his sibling other than a smirk.
"I'm not his like that!" I finally sputtered out. My face was warm and I could only imagine how red my cheeks were. "I just meant-"
"You're not mine in any way, shape, or form!" I shot a glare at Death, ready to enter another round of arguing with him, when Strife cut in.
"If he's not gonna give you a job, I'll happily take you in," he purred, a mischievous grin on his face. I rolled my eyes at his offer and sighed, shaking my head.
"You'll do no such thing," Death stated, narrowing his eyes at the other man. Strife's grin only grew and he turned to his brother.
"You're not the boss of either of us, big brother. I'd be more than welcome to take the little human in." The two stared at each other silently, the tension in the air only growing. I was sure one of them was going to throw the first punch at any minute. Suddenly, Death spoke.
"Amber!" In less than five seconds the blonde was at the door, her eyes trained on Strife like a guard dog waiting for her owner to give the command. "Please, escort Miss Banks out of my office. I need to speak to my brother, alone." I frowned, my hands curling into fists.
"What?" I spat, glaring at him. "No, we're not finished here!" He met my gaze and the air around me seemed to chill. I wanted to recoil, but I couldn't back down.
"Yes, I believe we are. I am sorry, Miss Banks, but you do not have the job." I stood quickly, nearly knocking back the chair, and slammed my hands down on the desk.
"No, I'm not leaving. You can't just-"
"Please come with me or else I'll have to use force," Amber said, appearing next to me. I disregarded her.
"I came here for a job and I'm not leaving until I get one, you pompous, stuck up ba-" Before I could finish tearing him a new one, Amber had my arm twisted behind my back and was pushing me to the exit, my bag in her hand. "Wait!"
"Have a nice day, Miss Banks," Death called as I was shoved out. I tossed a glance over my shoulder and I could've sworn I saw a smirk on his face. Son of a bitch. Amber didn't let go of me until I was in the elevator.
"I'm sorry the interview didn't go your way," she said, sounding and looking sincere. "Don't take what he said personally; he's is in a mood today. Something to do with his siblings, I'd assume." The anger seemes to drain out of me as she talked, not because I felt bad for the guy, but because the reality of what had just happened was settling in. I suddenly felt ashamed of myself; my actions weren't something I was entirely proud of. I'd never been so upset by an interview before. I'd had plenty of them, and had been turned down more times than I cared to admit, so why had I lost it at this one? Maybe it was the looming reminder of failure hanging over me. Whatever it was, it was inexcusable of me to behave like that. I almost felt like I owed Death an apology.
Almost.
"It's alright," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I took my bag from her hand, my frown deepening. "I shouldn't have behaved like a crazy bitch. That probably didn't help my case." Amber cracked a small smile and nodded, stepping back. I hit the lobby button and leaned against the elevator wall. "It was nice meeting you, Amber."
"Same to you, Aziza," she replied as the elevator doors came to a close. I let my head fall back and sighed, closing my eyes as tears started to build.
What a fucking failure.
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