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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 2 years ago

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Faerie the hatchet

Rule number 6: Do not, under any circumstances, make a deal with them. They will ALWAYS get the upper hand.

It was the longest, and therefore likely the most important. The one that you were supposed to listen to. The one that, if nothing else, you should make sure to follow.

This had been defaced.

Or: Fae!Bruce is lonely, but then a newly orphaned boy stumbles into his clearing asking for a deal. It’s Free Son.

Dick Grayson squinted at the rules on the piece of paper that he clutched in careful hands as he made his way through the forest.

They were simple.

2) Do not tell them your name.

3) Do not eat their food.

4) Do not step into any mushroom rings.

5) Do not insult them.

Now, rule number 1 was “Do not go into the forest unless absolutely necessary”, but Dick was disregarding that. It laid at the top of the paper, scratched out so harshly that the paper had ripped under the force of his quill.

And then there was rule number 6: Do not, under any circumstances, make a deal with them. They will ALWAYS get the upper hand.

It was the longest, and therefore likely the most important. The one that you were supposed to listen to. The one that, if nothing else, you should make sure to follow.

This, too, had been defaced.

Tiny feet scrambled along the path, weaving away from stray patches of poison ivy, careful not to trip over any roots or rocks that happened to be there, hesitant to trample any plants.

His eyes caught on a berry bush and almost instantly his mouth began to water. The berries looked juicer than any he had ever seen around town, and god knows he hadn’t eaten in a couple of days. The gnawing sensation in his stomach that had faded out after day three came back with a vengeance. The nausea he had been suffering from since he had been stuffed in a cupboard and forced to stay quiet as his parents were brutally murdered seemed to fade away into nothing but a mere memory. He was nearly bowled over by just how much he wanted them.

It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? A voice murmured in the back of his head. They can wait just a few minutes more. I have time. And I’m just so hungry.

Something crinkled underfoot and he jumped nearly a foot in the air in surprise, looking down at the paper he had accidentally stepped on. He had dropped it at some point. A dirty shoemark now helped marr the paper, making it even harder to read than it had been before.

He swallowed thickly, looking determinedly away from the berries.

Do not eat their food.

He was getting close.

He kept his eyes on the ground as he made his way further along the beaten path. Partially so he wouldn’t be tempted again, partially so he couldn’t stray, but mostly to look out for the dreaded ring that was rumored to lay at the end of it. Maybe, had he been older, been wiser, he would have wondered why there was a path at all. Whether there had been another person (or perhaps even people) like him that had gone this way so often that they had felt that making a path in the dirt was necessary, or whether the forest itself was leading him there.

But alas. Dick Grayson is eight. A smart eight year old, perhaps, but an eight year old nonetheless. And a grieving one at that.

Hence why he is here. Being both grieving and a child is a terrible mix when otherworldly beings that prey on humanity’s collective stupidity and lack of rationality when it comes to emotions are involved, but again: stupidity and lack of rationality when it comes to emotions.

So, he continues to look at the ground. He can’t risk stepping into the circle, not when his soul – or whatever it was the fae wanted from the humans they stole away – was his only bargaining chip here. But he also can’t miss it, because a deal with the fae is his only shot at bringing his parents back to life.

Of course, he couldn’t have missed it if he tried.

For a musical voice chimed: “Over here, little one.”

He jerked to look, his eyes wide in a mix of terror and pure, unadulterated hope. His gaze fell upon the most beautiful man to ever exist.

Though, maybe, calling him a man was the wrong thing to do, for he was certainly not human. A pair of bat wings hung from his back, his skin was just a smidge too pale, and his teeth were sharp enough to shred through a person without dulling in the slightest.

His shoulders sank. “Oh. I was looking for a fae, not a vampire. I apologize for inconveniencing you,” he said carefully. He made a short, aborted motion, because he had been about to bow and then promptly realized that exposing the back of his neck to a vampire was decidedly not a good idea. After a couple of moments of deliberation, every thought shown plainly on his face as if he were attempting to convey it to an audience that did not exist, he opted for pressing his hand to his heart in apology.

The not-human laughed, a pleasant sound that shouldn’t have reminded him of crickets chirping in the night and yet did for some strange reason, wiping an almost definitely fake tear from his eyes.

“I’m a fae,” he informed Dick, and Dick hesitated to give him the mildly dubious look his brain told him he should. If the man really was a fae, that might be seen as impolite. “After all, would a vampire be in one of these?”

And then he motioned to the ground.

Dick cast his eyes downward and found a ring of mushrooms, flowers, and shiny rocks that he swore hadn’t been there before. After all, he would have noticed the way the moonlight seemed to catch on each little pebble, right?

He swallowed thickly, seeing just how close his foot was to the edge of the ring. If the fae moved fast enough, he might just be able to grab Dick and drag him into the ring, and if he did then he would lose.

He wasn’t quite sure what you were supposed to lose. He just knew that, if you did, you weren’t allowed to come back.

“So, little one, what has led you here? To me?” The fae said, leaning closer. It really was too big, towering over the child even when it kneels and leaving him to shiver in his shadow.

It took everything in him to not back away. The rules flickered in his mind’s eyes. He couldn’t be impolite. If you wouldn’t do it to a guest in your home, then you certainly shouldn’t do it to a fae.

“I don’t think I’m that little,” he said carefully. “I think you might just be tall. Cause of all the – uh – fae-ness.” He tacked on a quick “Sir” for good measure.

The man laughed lightly. This one sounded different from the first, more breathless, like water rolling over rocks in a stream. He wondered, idly, which one was the true laugh.

“I suppose we can agree to disagree on that. But, if you don’t want me to keep calling you ‘little one’, then may I have your name instead?”

He opened his mouth, but then forced it closed again. “You may not. You… you can call me Robin, instead,” he decided, even if it hurt a little to say it. His mom had called him that. But it was the only thing he knew he would respond to immediately.

The man’s smile didn’t waver, but something akin to frustration flickered behind his eyes.

“What should I call you?” Dick said after a few moments’ silence, fighting the urge to wring his hands.

The fae blinked at him. Too-blue eyes scrutinized him for a long moment. And then he tipped his head to the side. His neck curved just a little too far to look natural, and certainly seemed uncomfortable, but he didn’t seem to realize. “Most of the humans I meet call me Batman.”

“Seems a little on the nose, don’t you think?” He blurted, only to slap his hands over his mouth.

But the fae just laughed again, and it was the chirpy one. Dick decided this one was the real one. After all, the fae tipped his head back to laugh, so fast that he probably would have fallen over if he were human, but instead he simply hung there in midair, a brilliant smile on his face. He didn’t think that kind of amusement could be faked. Exaggerated, maybe, but not fake.

“Maybe!” He agreed once he was done with his maybe-surprised-maybe-maniacal laughter. “Would you suggest something different?”

Dick blushed. He really couldn’t think of something that wasn’t about the bat wings on his back, actually, now that he thought about it. He hardly knew the guy, he had almost nothing to go off of. He cleared his throat awkwardly to give himself time to think, but all he could come up with in the moment was: “B. I’ll call you B.”

He got a wide grin from the faerie, but there was no malice lurking behind his eyes. “What does the B stand for?”

“I’m afraid that is between me and God,” Dick said solemnly. He didn’t want to admit that he had just cut off the ‘atman’ part of his fake name, even if it was kind of obvious… or was it? Shoot, what if B thought he was actually trying to hide that he was calling him a ‘female dog’? “Wait! It’s nothing bad, though, don’t worry!”

“Oh? It’s not? Then would you like to explain why won’t you tell me?” B said, resting his hands on his hips.

He opened his mouth to explain himself, only to find out that B was teasing him. He snapped his mouth shut so he wouldn’t be tempted to stick his tongue out at the fae. He still crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, though.

This seemed to endlessly amuse B, because he let the silence go without any contest.“Alright. I grant you permission to call me B, then. Now, Robin, you never answered me. What brings you here?”

Dick’s mouth went dry. Probably to make up for the wetness that began to prickle at the corners of his eyes. “I want to make a deal with you.”

The fae’s perfectly-manicured eyebrows shot into his hair. “A deal?” He repeated, cautiously.

And Dick realized he was being given an out.

But he couldn’t. He nodded firmly. “I want my parents back. And I want revenge on the guy that killed them.”

B looked at him for a long moment, considering, before a smile spread across his face. “That’s quite a high ask for such a little bird. What do you offer in return?”

He gnawed his bottom lip nervously. It was interested, that much was clear, but… he didn’t know if that was more of a ‘wow, the gall of this human’ kind of thing or because he was actually considering helping him. It didn’t matter either way, of course, he had already started it, there was no going back, so he steeled his shoulders and forced himself to look the fae in the eyes. “Me.”

The fae hummed consideringly, and the sound buzzed in his ears in a way that made goosebumps rise on his arms.

But it was nothing compared to the way his hair stood on end when the fae smiled down at him and said:

“Two souls for two souls. I can work with that.”

The fae held out a hand to shake. Dick’s eyes caught on the way the tips of his fingers looked like they had been stretched into pointy claws.

Feeling distinctly like he was making a terrible mistake, he reached out a tiny hand.

B smiled a little too wide as their hands clasped.

And then he didn’t let go.

He started backing up, dragging Dick closer to the edge of the circle, step by step.

Dick yelped and dug in his heels, trying to make his stupid shoes gain traction, but the fae was so much stronger than him and the nails were digging into his skin enough to draw blood and it hurt and he could barely think but he knew that everything had gone wrong.

“Waitwaitwait!” He yelped.

Surprisingly, the fae stopped, but he didn’t let go of Dick’s hand. Didn’t allow him to twist his hand from his grip. “Yes?”

“I didn’t mean now!” He said quickly. “I still want to spend time with my parents! What’s the point otherwise?”

The fae snickered quietly and leaned closer. Until their noses were merely an inch apart. “I suppose you should have clarified more before you agreed, then.”

Dick screamed as his feet left the ground.

“But don’t worry, little Robin, I’ll make sure you get your wishes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pt2

All Fae-n And Games Masterlist

#fae au #faerie the hatchet #batman #dc #dc comics #lmao thats literally detective comics comics #faerie #fae folk #fae #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #bruce wayne #this one is a lil fucked up #as all fae aus tend to be #but it shouldnt be that bad lol #still. kid gets kidnapped. yike

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terrible-twst-oc-ideas · 1 year ago

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3 Terrible Three Questions - Unique Magic Edition

Question 1: What is your Unique Magic, and what does it do?

🌰 “It’s called ‘Lover’s Favor.’ I can take any object – let’s say, oh, a hairbrush– and give it to someone, with the instruction that it be returned to me by a certain time. This can be a vague time period, like two weeks from now, or more specific, like Monday the 15th at 4:30PM. No matter what date I set though, the object will always find its way back to me on that deadline – usually through the person it was given to. The affected objects radiate a passive, compulsory force, making the assigned person want to return them by the date. Though, that’s not always the case – the spell does have a failsafe, where if not delivered to me, they’ll simply reappear, usually on my doorstep or in my bag. It’s always a shame when that happens, especially when I cast it specifically in the hopes of meeting someone again, but, alas. No good relationship was ever perfectly engineered.”

🎶 “I call it ‘Enthralling Lament’. Whenever I play music, and whenever I wish for it to come into effect, it causes anyone who hears my playing to become fully entranced by the song. No talking, no distractions, not even other thoughts: their full attention becomes wholly placed on me and my music. While someone is within this trance, they’re also put into a more heightened state of suggestion, allowing me to somewhat influence their thoughts and actions, however vaguely. I… may have used this power to convince the dorm head to let me practice during late-night hours once or twice. But as far as you know, that’s hearsay.”

🏹 “Mine’s called ‘Golden Pelt’. When I fire it up, it not only makes me even stronger and more resilient than normal, but it also protects me from physical attacks and damage. Bruises, scratches, even broken bones– can’t get a thing while it’s active! Though, it only works for a minute tops, and I gotta wait for all the blot to dry up before I can use it again. I guess fate decided a Unique Magic as great as mine needed a serious handicap.”

Question 2: How did you discover your Unique Magic?

🌰 “It was during middle school. There was this… guy, I was seeing at the time, but he told me he lived a good way’s away. I was worried about being able to see him again, so, I steadily crafted my Unique Magic to guarantee that I would always have a way to draw him back to me – without outright forcing it, of course. There’s no romance in that. Though, by the time I finally perfected it… well… let’s just say, the romance fell apart. Of course, my Unique Magic has its uses outside of why it was created, but it still upsets me that I haven’t yet used it for its intended purpose.”

🎶 “It was honestly a bit of a surprise. No one in my family was a mage, and since I wasn’t born with the ability to use it, I initially believed I was incapable of performing magic altogether. That was, until I composed my first actual performance piece, a wonderfully haunting lament. I had spent weeks perfecting it, and I wanted everyone who heard it to be as enthralled by it as I was. Only, when I played it… I found that my audience was all quite literally enthralled. I experimented some more, and discovered that I could induce this state with any song I played, so long as I desired it to happen. It was around this time that one of my teachers realized I was a mage, and recommended me for magic school. I’ve refined it further since then, and gave it the name “Enthralling Lament” in honor of its origin.

🏹 “It was during a bout of wrestling as a kid. The neighborhood kids had turned it into a contest, and I really wanted to win. Unfortunately, there was this one kid who liked to claw people to win, and he’d argue the rules so much it was easier to just let him have his way. It came down to me and him, and when he started clawing at me, all I could think about was pushing through the pain and coming out on top– and suddenly, I felt this huge rush of adrenaline. His claws felt like nothing, and I pinned him like it was nothing too. Didn’t realize it was magic until I got home, and couldn’t find any scratch marks on me. Man, I was so excited to tell my folks about it… well. At least the other kids treated me like royalty for a week.”

Question 3: Does your Unique Magic have any special conditions or quirks?

🌰 “My Unique Magic only works if I kiss the object it’s casted on first. It acts as a sort of indicator – a clear mark of what object should receive the enchantment. Although, it does limit what objects I can cast it on. I’m not willing to put my mouth on everything.”

🎶 “I can only use my Unique Magic while playing music. That’s somewhat of a given considering its nature, though it does limit its versatility. I should also note that, while it does produce a heightened state of suggestibility, this is not true hypnosis or mind control. I can more easily persuade someone to act a certain way, but I can not force them to do anything. In fact, I’ve observed that quite a few people are actively resistant to my attempts at coercion.”

🏹 “It can’t protect me from other spells. Believe me, I’ve tried, but I’ve never been able to pull it off. I guess even the greatest abilities still can’t be perfect…”

As you can see, your faithful mod’s been thinking a lot about the Terrible Three’s Unique Magics lately, so I also decided to include some additional trivia and their incantations as well!

Trivia:

-Delano’s magic was inspired by depictions of courtly love in various Arthurian legends. In particular, there was a trope of a lady giving an object to her favorite knight before he set out on a journey or fought in a battle, with the promise that it would return unharmed – and, by implication, that he would return safely as well.

-Lionel’s magic of course comes from the Nemean Lion’s famous golden fur, which was impervious to all forms of attack. Fun fact, this is also why Lionel has so much arrow-shaped jewelry and is into archery: in the original myth, Hercules initially tried and failed to kill the lion with arrows.

-Piper’s magic isn’t directly based on any one ability of Forte’s, but more so the idea of those abilities: manipulating people into wanting to stay and appreciate his musical talents – and by extension, him – for as long as possible. Also, I couldn’t settle on any exact rules for how the music-based semi-tangible illusions Forte uses in the movie would work as a Unique Magic, so I decided to go for something more symbolic instead.

Incantations:

🌰 “My beloved, heed my wish. Take this object, and keep it well. Promise it will return unscathed. Lover’s Favor.”

🏹 “My gold will never tarnish! Victory is mine! Golden Pelt!”

🎶 “Let your troubles fade away. Let your sorrows be soothed by my song. Let my music become your heart’s very keeper! Enthralling Lament!”

#terrible three

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johnhardinsawyer · 4 months ago

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Living Faith

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

9 / 1 / 24 – Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost[1]

James 1:17-27

“Living Faith”

(Quick to Listen, Slow to Speak)

Eight years ago, this summer, my wife and I were invited to a dinner party with some friends. The only issue was, we had a newborn baby. “Well, bring the baby,” our gracious hosts said. So, we packed up our entire house and carried it over to their house.

When we got there, we unpacked all the stuff from our house – including the baby – and we had dinner. It was fun! Everyone was having a good time – talking about children, and music, and telling funny stories. And then, out of the blue, one sweet woman asked, “So, who do you think is going to win the election?”

You know the thing that happens in movies or TV, where there is a sound like a needle scratching on a record player and suddenly everything goes quiet? Well, it was like that.

“So, who do you think it’s going to be?” she asked, again, into a veritable chasm of awkward silence. She was, of course referring to the very contentious Presidential election that was underway at the time – an election that had people (even people around the table in that kitchen) divided. Looking around the table, it was as if we were all checking our memories to see whether or not there had been a pre-approved list of possible dinnertime topics and – if there was a list – if this particular topic was that list.

“So, who do you think it’s going to be?” she asked, again. And then one person said something – trying to answer her question – and another person said something, and it went downhill from there. I mean, people were civil – we were all friends – but there was a palpable tension that had been introduced into the room. . . a tension that didn’t necessarily go away, even after we all left at the end of the evening. Amy and I packed up all the stuff from our house and carried it back to our house, and all we could say as we drove home was, “Well, that was uncomfortable!”

I’d like to say that over the past eight years, all of the world’s problems have been resolved and nothing is ever awkward or uncomfortable, but. . . alas. . . this is not the case. And, I’d like to say that most of you have likely never been in a situation in which somebody says something and then things get oddly difficult, but chances are you have had – or will have – moments like this. . . maybe even this week, maybe even with people you know and love.

So, what are we supposed to do? Because things don’t seem to be getting easier in this regard. The truth is, they never were easy.

In today’s passage from the Letter of James, we read, “You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger. . .” (James 1:19) This is scriptural exhortation that doesn’t come naturally to very many of us.

Now, we’ll get to this verse in just a moment. But first, you should know that the Letter of James almost didn’t make it into what we call the “canon” of writings that make up Bible that we have come to know.

Even though this letter – which is Jewish in origin and has been traditionally attributed to James, the brother of Jesus – was considered to be holy scripture as early as the third century, by the time of the Protestant Reformation, people like Martin Luther didn’t really like James all that much. Not only does James not refer to Jesus very much (only twice!)[2], the way that Luther read the letter, it seemed to Luther that James contradicts the Apostle Paul’s emphasis on justification by faith.[3] James is concerned with people’s behavior and how acting in a moral – ethical – way is good, while Paul is concerned with people’s faith, and how faith is not linked to works. Luther was very much against the idea that people can earn their way into heaven by how they act. Instead, it is our faith in God that makes us right with God, not how we act. So, when Luther made his list of “approved” books of the Bible, James almost didn’t make it into the Protestant version of the Bible.

The Letter of James did make it in, though, because how we act as people of faith is important. For James, faith does matter, but what we do – how we live out our faith in Christ – matters very much, too. James encourages us to be “doers of the word, and not merely hearers [of the word.]” (1:22) If Jesus has come into our lives and if we seek to follow Jesus in what we do and say, then the Letter of James gives us some practical behaviors that we can adopt and seek to live by. In doing so, we might just offer the world a glimpse of what the love of Jesus looks like.

Over the next few weeks, we will be spending some time with the Letter of James, talking about how we live out our faith – especially when it comes to showing the incarnational and invitational love of Jesus to others.

Today’s passage provides any number of possibilities for sermons about giving and living faithfully, but when it comes to being “quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger” James wants us to make a connection between our actions and God’s action. It would seem that our actions will often distract us (and others) from God’s action. Not only does our inability to be good listeners get in the way of our relationships with other people. It also impedes our relationship with God. When John Calvin writes about this passage, he says that,

. . . inasmuch as we do not calmly hear God speaking to us, when we seem to ourselves to be very wise, but by our haste interrupt [God] when [God] is addressing us, the Apostle requires us to be slow to speak. And, doubtless, no one can be a true disciple of God, except [they] hear [God] in silence.[4]

Calvin is writing about prayer, here, and how our prayers could (and perhaps should) include just as much time for listening as talking. But, in a plain reading of the text, this also applies to our interactions with other people. In both prayer and interactions with other people, God will often show up and speak in surprising ways.

A friend of mine was telling me about a recent conversation they had with someone who had a completely different view of the world, and politics, and science, and even facts. At the beginning of this conversation, all my friend could think was, “Boy, I can’t wait to start yelling at this person and tell them how ridiculous they are.” But, in the not-so-simple and oh-so-difficult act of being quick to listen and slow to speak, my friend began to hear just how afraid their ideological enemy was and, all of a sudden, my friend’s anger began to dissipate, and they started feeling these strange feelings of compassion and empathy for a fellow human being and child of God who was so afraid. In other words, in the act of listening, God showed up and taught my friend how to better love their neighbor. “Wow,” my friend heard themselves saying, “it all sounds so frightening! Is there anything else you need to share?” Can you imagine: not just letting someone with whom you differ speak without you interrupting them, but inviting them to share even more?

Finally, the person who had shared so many their fears, because they had been given the space to do so, said, “It feels good, just having someone listen.” This is an act of living our faith – one way of learning how to live out what we claim Jesus teaches us – providing space for someone to share the burdens of their heart.

Now, I know that there are some arguments that we may feel need to be had – conversations to convince other people that they should change their minds – or, at the very least, hear us out. But most of these hard conversations that we think will miraculously end with some kind of radical conversion – a change of mind and heart – don’t just happen out of the blue. There has to be some mutual trust built and some compassion present. The hard ground of people’s hearts and minds needs to be lovingly tilled up and prepared for the Spirit to plant something new there.

This takes hard work. And oftentimes the first step in this hard work is to be honest with ourselves about our own stuff – preconceived notions, deeply held prejudices, ironclad (and yet sometimes-flawed) logic. Just like Amy and I packing up all the stuff from our house only to take it to someone else’s house, there is a whole lot of emotional, spiritual, and ideological stuff – baggage we all carry with us. And sometimes, this stuff can get in the way of us being truly present and able to listen to someone.

Thankfully, we have some help. Our own Presbyterian tradition gives us permission to disagree – to have freedom of conscience – but also the challenge of learning to bear with one another. The old-timey language that we find in our Book of Order is that we practice “mutual forbearance.”[5] If, as the Apostle Paul once wrote, “[love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, [and] endures all things,” (1 Corinthians 13:7) then the practice of bearing with one another is an act of love.

So, we have our Presbyterian tradition and a scriptural mandate. We also have this Table, to which Jesus invites us – no matter who we are; no matter how we vote; no matter what we feel makes us tick, morally and ethically. At this Table, all of us are one in Christ Jesus and at this Table we are invited to set aside whatever extra stuff we might be carrying so that God will make us new.

We are made new by the One who forgives us and sets us free. We are made new by the Spirit, who grants us all that we need to go out from this place – ready to love and serve the Lord by loving and serving our neighbors. We are made new in ways that we might not fully realize until the moment the Holy is revealed in our midst. It can happen at any moment – in surprising ways – but it can happen even to you and to me.

May it happen today. May it happen to us, and for us, and through us. And may the Spirit be at work in our lives, helping us to live our faith in ways that are overflowing with grace.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

[1] Year B, Proper 17.

[2] See James 1:1 and 2:1.

[3] Wayne E. Meeks, ed., HarperCollins Study Bible (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, Inc., 1993) 2269. Sophie Laws, “Introduction to the Letter of James.”

[4] John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries – Vol. XXII – Hebrews-Jude (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2009) 294.

[5] Book of Order of the Presbyterian Church (USA) – F-3.0105.

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etrangersvoyageant · 2 years ago

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Rewire, day 3

Third and final day, head’s still a little weird, but I set out to catch a few more performances.

First off Tim Hecker & Vincent De Belleval. I came in late, just off the train, so I found myself in the back with other latecomers and people who needed to their phone to either communicate with another or update their social media profile, because either way they were making and sharing pictures of the performance.

Now describing said performance is a little tricky, I think mood plays a big role in this. Imagine a dark room, a beam of blue light appears, smoke follows and engulfs the first 5-7 rows. Over time the beam changes patterns, then characters and finally colours. At some point, I expected the words Los Angeles 2019 to appear, but alas no words materialized in the string of code.

Music wise, there’s noise, it builds up. Following the smoke, it engulfs the audience, this time the whole audience. It may sound boring, yes. Even if nothing happens, something happens. I’d say this performance borders between music and art in a minimalist sense. Like I said it’s about mood, it’s an experience. Hecker is great at turning/elevating noise into art.

That also means to me that if you commit to sit down, you’re committing for the whole thing. Of course, this is a festival, so people did leave, but generally speaking: the only way out is through. If I’d have left halfway, I might still wonder what would have happened…

After about an hour I and many with me emerged from the temporal tomb with a story, more of sound than of actual words.

Next up: Patrick Belaga, Asma Maroof & Tapiwa Svosve. This performance was the coming together of saxophone and flute player (Svosve), a cellist (Belaga) and electronic producer (Maroof, of Nuzunguzu fame). There were no visuals, but all wore red in their own respective styles (Belaga had wooden clogs on), with white, yellow and red light shining down upon them. It was a great collaboration to witness and listen to. The lack of visuals weren’t the problem, but some people in the back valuing their conversation over the performance were.

(Free suggestion: have something to share in a moment like this? Either leave or send each other messages with the notification sound off. Thank you!)

Fortunately, at times, the music was intense enough, that by concentrating on it, you could to dive in deep. When they were done, the players were visibly relieved and happy, especially Maroof appeared glad to have pulled it off.

With an empty hour, Sunday’s programme was rather weak, ahead of me, I decided, I wanted to check out a venue I hadn’t visited until now. By accident, I ended up at a séance with a dead rainforest in the catacombs of a church (-insert whippy comment here, if you like-). The attendees were witness of Vivian Caccuri & Thiago Lanis creating a rainforest in sound (and occasionally light). Especially Lanis was impressive, creating animal sounds with his voice: mosquitoes, various monkeys, a tiger already passed us… Yeah, a bit odd, but not bad. After the applause, they briefly spoke about their project, mentioning spending a month to create the project from scratch.

Then, I wanted to check if I could see Ana Roxanne, but the queue was long. It went through the venue’s lounge and into the street. Thus, I walked around, letting my thoughts wander, the night air was good for the head anyway.

After a while, I went to the last venue and caught the end of Zebra ‘And what the fuck do you know about that?!’ Katz’ performance and it seemed like a lot of fun, people were cheering a lot.

About 40 mins waiting and presided by a group cheer backstage, Kelela appeared upon a stage. It was just her and 4 units/pillars of light.

Beforehand I wondered if she’d fit at a festival like this, in my mind she’s a pretty big rnb star… I imagine she graces larger stages. And offence to Rewire, but no venue is exceptionally big. Funnily enough, a few songs in Kelela remarked how intimate the room was. Anyway, more importantly, she was great. Opening with ‘Washed Away’, followed by more off ‘Raven’ and calling her show a dance party with live vocals, brought cheers and applause. But there was more, ever so often she stopped to talk about things that matter to her. Nothing sermon-like, she led her songs do the talking, but just addressing male stoicism, emotional stuntedness and being emotionally available was important. Though, as an introvert, I’m not sure I can comment. Really though, I thought it was great, she said she felt the world is unkind enough already.

She also did some older songs, which was great. To watch her sing ‘Rewind’(?) under 2 white spotlights while being engulfed in smoke was simple yet outstanding. Plus, hearing the ‘Bank Head’ brought me back to the time I listened to Hallucinogen and a few select Boiler Room sets, while editing my thesis.

Finally, because all things must come to an end, she did ‘All the Way Down’ in a flurry of light and sound. (Testing my vampire eyes once more, I’ve been working inside too much.) Making her performance a great closing act to a solid festival.

It’s a shame it was over, but I wouldn’t have it any other way: Friday should be good, Saturday amazing and Sunday ends alright. That way you get closure. If Sunday ends with a bang, you may end up wandering for more while the festival has nothing left to give.

#live music diary #rewire #Kelela #Asma Maroof #Patrick Belaga #Tapiwa Svosve #Vincent De Belleval #Tim Hecker

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

Note

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead. “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy.

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.

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katsukikitten · 3 years ago

Text

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader

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jameui · 3 years ago

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MOVIE DATE

PAIRING: Hwang Hyunjin x Manager!M!Reader

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNING: Hyunjin being a jerk

SUMMARY: You boyfriend, Hyunjin took you out on a date to watch your favorite movie.

You sighed in exhaustion and as if the world was trying to test you, a fast running bicycle came your way causing you to jump to the side, so fast that you forgot about the takeouts you had in your hands and at a blink of an eye the neatly boxed items fell to the ground, all the food now spilled on the floor with your eyes widening in fear. "Shit!" You yelled out and tried to get back to the restaurant again, but as soon as you got there the line was already long and it'd take you ages to get to the counter to order, again.

You were at your way to your work with your phone squeezed in between your shoulder and ear as you talked to your co-manager on the other line who seemed agitated for your tardiness, while you tried to balance the foods you were made to order. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure that won't happen again." You told the male before the call was cut short when he decided to hang up all of a sudden.

Looking around, you saw a chinese restaurant that had the smallest line, so you went there and bought the food there, even though the orders of the group was not exactly what they wanted for you to buy. You just couldn't go back empty handed.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the venue of the fansign event and got there just in time before Stray Kids were called to the stage for their activity to be done, but the moment you got there you saw that the people present were already eating their food away. They noticed your presence entering the room whilst their head turned to look at you. "I... Good morning, everyone." You greeted them. 'Guess their manager got their food delivered.'

You didn't get a reply, except from the group who was more than happy to see that you had food on your hands. "Hyung! Thank God. I was starving." The group's youngest, Jeongin said as he helped you put the foods down on the table. "You're seriously a life saver."

You smiled at him giving him a muttered thanks that earned you a smile from Jeongin. Honestly speaking, Jeongin was the second best person you ever liked in the group, the first being Lee Felix since he was the only person to ever approach you on your first day since he was able to see how much you were so nervous. Felix was also one of the members who taught you korean, the other being Bang Chan. You had always knew the group back then, and now and you were damn thankful that you got the opportunity to be in their circle.

Knowing how young you were to be working for them, they treated you nicely, not because they needed to, rather cause it was in their nature to be caring. Well, at least except one person. You were the closest to Felix who treated you like his personal manager and a friend as well, going out on friendly dates with you to the park, dog cafés, just anywhere Felix would find interesting to visit.

Who's the person that seemed irritated whenever you were around you ask? Why, the one and only visual king, Hwang Hyunjin. He doesn't actually treat you bad, but the way his eyes would always turn dark or displeased when you show up in his line of sight made you feel so small and felt totally unwelcomed. That was then, apparently, since today the male looked a little too quiet and didn't even bother to look at you. Believe me or not that's actually the kindest thing he's done to you.

You would try to go to him to try and talk to him, worried by his silence. You just furrowed your brows and sighed completely aware that no matter how much you try to talk to him he won't even dare to acknowledge you being there for him.

"M/n, are you just gonna stand there? Come and eat." Chan told you, but you just politely declined his offer with the shake of your head before telling him that you had just taken your breakfast and that you were full, more and you feel like your stomach's gonna burst. "Hm, suit yourself, but I'll be leaving mine untouched, so you can eat it when you get hungry, yeah?"

"You're so kind, Chan." You gave him a smile that got Chan smiling also showing his deep dimples that you could just dive in it anytime soon.

"Hey, hey, hey! We've known each other the longest. Why do I still have to call you 'hyung' and M/n doesn't?" Jisung, one of the group's rapper, pouted with folded arms as Chan chuckled before ruffling the kid's hair that Jisung angrily shook off.

"Well, since he's not that spoiled, unlike you." Chan answered Jisung who gasped dramatically. "And he also gained my permission, so—"

"Whenever or not he's around, is he the only person that ever comes into your mind?" That all too familiar voice spoke out, all your heads turning towards the person. He scoffed and stood up with a smirk on his face, probably in disbelief that the whole group was talking to you and always thought about you. "I mean, come on. There's gotta be something else to talk about other than this... person." You felt his eyes look at you while your eyes stared at him with rising anger. "There's sports, other artists, songs, music, so many and you chose to pick him as the topic of your talk."

"Hyunjin, that is very disrespectful." Chan gritted out, but Hyunjin knew better than to listen or to even stop.

"I'm really not, hyung." Hyunjin's smirk grew wider eyeing you with a suspicious look on his eyes. An idea popped in his head as he opened his mouth to talk. "But, if you want to, I could show you how disrespectful I can get." Without any warning, he took the take-out container and bottled drink in his hand and gave you no second to react as he poured all of its contents onto your head with a loud gasp coming out of you. "There. I'll call it a masterpiece even."

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Bang Chan's voice boomed through the whole room a still smirking Hyunjin turning around to face the older male who was fuming with anger. "You—"

"Chan!" You called out to him before things got a little out of hand. For pete's sake their going to just fight because Hyunjin had made a mess of you? You were not even worth the fight. "No. I'm fine. I can just quickly change, that's all. I'll be right back and I better get no reports about you two fighting." You told the two, Chan rolling his eyes.

You got out of the room and ran as fast as you can to the nearest restroom, cleaning yourself as soon as you arrived. Times like this you would immediately bawl your eyes out, but with the constant behavior that Hyunjin showed to you, you grew used to it. Heck, you even sometimes feel that the other boys only act like they liked you being there and when you weren't, they'd stab you behind your back. "Goodness, why won't this get off."

"Need help?" A raspy voice came from the entrance of the restroom, turning your head around to see Felix leaning himself on the door frame with his arms crossed, then untangled them to let his hands rest inside his pockets and stepped inside as you smiled at him. "Do you need more tissue?"

You shook your head at him, your attention back on your stained favorite shirt wiping them clean with the tissues the place's restroom owned. "Nah, there's plenty here. Besides, I'm all dried up now." You said and showed yourself to him, Felix knitting his brows in worry.

He seeped air through his teeth and cocked his head to the side, unsure if you should be wearing that now dirty shirt when you'd be with them during the activity the whole time. "I don't think you should be wearing that."

"Why? It's my favorite sweater." You chuckled half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I know, M/n, but it's dirty. Plus, I think it gets pretty uncomfortable seeing that stain on your shirt and it gets sticky. Yeugh." Felix pretended to barf which got you laughing softly. Felix, though not trying to be funny, whatever he does it always seemed so funny to you.

"Fine, fine. I'll go change, the problem though is that I didn't bring an extra shirt with me today." You told Felix scratching your nape.

"Really? Well, I guess we have to borrow from one of the group's." Felix suggested, but your eyes grew sizes bigger upon hearing that and waved your hands.

"No way, Felix! I have already done enough damage, I can't afford to borrow a shirt from one of the members, or to you even." You told him, but it all fell on deaf ears as Felix refused to listen. "I'm just trouble, Felix. You don't have to worry about me."

Felix hummed with two fingers pinching his chin gently. "Yeah, I don't think so." He took your wrist and started to drag you back to the dressing room. "Come on, I know there's someone willing to let you borrow a shirt." You just sighed, knowing that Felix won't even dare to change his mind when he had already set them on something.

Alas, as you two got there, none of the members even had a spare shirt to let you borrow. They were very willing and even tried to look around if there was anything, but to no avail. Although, there was one last person you didn't ask. "Hyunjin. You were the cause of this mess, you let him borrow your shirt." Felix sternly told the older male who pilled his brows together.

"What?! No way! Are you telling me I'd offer to do something for that guy? No!" Hyunjin retorted making Felix growl.

Felix was so ready to throw punches at the male who didn't seem to be bothered by the situation, but you just put a hand on Felix's shoulder and assured him. "That's alright, Felix. My sweater was thick enough to not get my undershirt wet. Although, I'm grateful for your effort." You smiled at him and sighed.

Just in time, you heard a call from one of your co-manager that the group was already being requested to be at the stage right now. You gave them an encouraging smile as they all did the same. "Alright boys. It's time to go out there and meet millions of your fans."

The group all shouted, excluding Hyunjin, hurray and hurried out to get on stage, you following behind after you were able to discard your sweater, leaving you only on your black t-shirt. You shivered at the cold now that you were left with a thin clothing that wasn't appropriate for the type of weather you were having and not mention that the place was fully air-conditioned.

Your shaking was not too evident, but one of the members, Seungmin, was able to notice it. Feeling pity he made his way to Hyunjin and tried to convince him. "Jinnie, M/n's cold. Please lend him your jacket, at least. He'll get sick if he continues to get exposed to the cold."

"Better for him."

"Hyunjin, please... Besides, you're already wearing thick layers of clothes why not let M/n borrow." Seungmin reasoned out and solemnly knitted his brows to persuade the male, Hyunjin rolling his eyes at his bestfriend and huffed before taking his jacket off of him and handed it over to Seungmin who silently squeaked. "Thanks, Hyunjin." Hyunjin brushed it off with a 'whatever', the younger of the two jogging his way towards you and gave you the jacket he got from Hyunjin. "I noticed your shivering, so I want you to take this jacket and no, you can't say you can't accept it."

You nodded your head at him and took the jacket from his hands. "Thank you, Seungmin."

"My pleasure." He smiled at you with those puppy dog like smile. He skipped back to reunite with his group while you put on the jacket that Seungmin offered you. You were still in thought though how Seungmin was able to convince Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket. You knew Hyunjin owned the jacket since he wouldn't let them go since the moment you arrived.

You noticed how the jacket was too big for you, since the sleeves of the piece of clothing only let your fingers peek out through the holes while the flaps reached further down your hips, but it totally felt cozy and smelled like... Hyunjin. How do you explain it? You don't even know where to begin. It was him. The reason why you wanted to work with Stray Kids. You didn't want to look like you were some type of stalker, but all you ever wanted was to befriend Hyunjin.

The befriending process didn't go the way you actually thought it would go. Everytime his eyes met yours or you heard his voice you'd get all flustered and so nervous that your tongue always gets tied, the words you want to tell him gets trapped inside your mouth. It all started to be just an admiration towards the slightly older male until your determination to become his friend gradually became an unknown feeling towards Hyunjin, until realizing later that you actually liked the group's rapper, despite all his bad treatment towards you.

Back to reality, you hugged yourself and took in the wonderful scent the artist gave off until one of your co-worker nudged you. "Hey, stop sniffing the clothes. You totally look like a sasaeng."

"W-what? I wasn't sniffing anything." You denied it earning an eye roll. Later, you heard the whole place bursted into shouts of joy and excitement as Stray Kids made their appearance on the stage greeting all their fans inside and outside of the place. They all took their turns taking the mic to express their happiness and gratefulness to their ocean of fans that filled up the whole place.

Soon, the group was seated at a long rectangular table that was a perfect fit letting all the members seat on their respective seats. There were chairs as well settled in front of the table with each settled across a specific member.

You were appointed to keep guard and stand behind Hyunjin, in any case of fans throwing shade at him or any forms of harm or hate towards the member who had just been caught up in a supposed bullying rumor.

The line started to form as people who were present inside the place took their turns to talk to each member and get a sign from them. So far, you could only wonder how paranoid the company was to keep you on guard of Hyunjin when all these people here are Stays and they wouldn't do such thing to throw hate to any members in the group. Right?

The line was still too long to be gone in just minutes making you sigh, hearing your tummy rumble hoping that no one heard that. You now finally regret not eating that noodles that Chan offered you, the hunger finally hitting your system as your tummy continued to grumble. You pursed your lips and forced your eyes closed while you brought your head down in embarrassment. 'Fuck... why now?'

After a short while, the line was starting to get shorter and shorter, you thanking the heavens for the fast passing by of the time. But, the moment you least expected to happen happened. You felt a harsh tap on your legs and another and another after it finally took your attention, getting a little shocked that the action was done by the person who hated you the worst. "Take it before I change my mind." He told you. You complied and bowed at him politely as he tuts his tongue. "Who would even think of going to work on an empty stomach?"

'You... poured it on me?' You thought then shrugging it off before you looked at the treat offered to you by Hyunjin. You wondered what type of bread it was and hesitated, although Hyunjin's back was facing you he was able to sense your hard time on trying to eat what he gave you.

"It's not poisoned, M/n." He whispered as he signed the album that had his photo on it, then looking up at the fan who would like to talk to him.

Their talk wasn't audible to you, but you opened the packaging of the nicely wrapped pastry and bit on it with your body facing the wall so your back was turned against the people to cover yourself while you ate. One of your co-manager did notice your unwanted behavior and stomped his way to you and took the baked good from your hands and threw it to the ground to step on it and crush it good. "What do you think you're doing, L/n?! You're being inappropriate right now." He gritted out to you with a small voice almost like a whisper so no one else would hear you two. You bowed your head subtly before a hand was placed right below your chin as you looked up at him confused. "Spit." He ordered, referring to the food you were chewing.

You nod your head and spit out the food that was in your mouth into his hand while he picked up the wasted food and left, then threw it all at a trash can. "Fuck." You sighed as you held your chest and slowly turned around to face the non-existent line, the group now interacting with their fans.

Just looking at them now, you were able to remember when you were the one who was there seated at the chairs shouting out the name of the person you would call as your bias, which is no other than Kim Seungmin. At least, when you still didn't take the job to be one of the group's manager. Usually, it would only take one manager to manage the group, but why did this group require another one? You questioned yourself. It was all unexplained to you, but all you gotta do was to just be glad that you get to be friends with the people you see as your role models.

"Hyunjin-ah! When did you start trading jackets with your manager?" The question came out as a shout that got everyone laughing, including the group. You were only able to chuckle knowing that it was Seungmin who convinced Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket.

Hyunjin didn't get to answer the question, when another fan spoke from the crowd that got every fans' attention. "Are rumors true that you don't treat Manager L/n well?"

Chan furrowed his brows and picked up his microphone. "Where did you get this story?" He chuckled trying to make it sound that it wasn't true and just pure bluff. Chan looked at Hyunjin with the face that told Hyunjin that he should start treating you well if he didn't want the netizens to know about his treatment towards you. "Anyways, it's seriously not true."

-----------

A few minutes later and the event was finally finished and the group was bidding their goodbyes to their fans as they started to walk backstage. You waited for them at their waiting room with a handful of bottled waters for the boys to pick up once they get inside. The door soon opened revealing the group with a tense atmosphere following them that got you so confused. "Hey—"

"Hyunjin. If word gets out about your mistreatment to M/n, that would be a serious damage to our image and to M/n as well, 'cause he's obviously in pain because of you!" Chan yelled at the trouble causing male who only rolled his eyes paying no heed to his warning.

"Atleast, I never went too far as to really hurt him physically." Hyunjin deadpanned Chan growling at his response. Your eyes flickered to Hyunjin, then to Chan not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You are seriously being a jerk right now, Hyunjin." Chan fumed in anger while Hyunjin just continued to act deaf and played on his phone. Chan, giving up, sighed and plopped down on his seat. "Ayayay."

They took turns in getting your glances as you thought of a way to calm the atmosphere. You had already been their manager for a over a year now and this was the only time that Hyunjin ever spoke up to Chan and, to top it off, with sass and without the slightest feeling of being bothered. That was the moment you felt like you had enough. You've had enough with all these things. You were tired of yourself to even think that Hyunjin would finally soften up to you and be his friend. You were wrong to even apply for this kind of job. The group wouldn't be fighting if it hadn't been for you appearing in their lives all so suddenly. "Guys... let him do as he pleases. I'll be the one to take of whatever the netizens hear."

Chan raised his eyes up at you with furrowed brows. "What do you plan on doing? Whatever it is don't do it."

You smiled and nodded. "I won't, Chan." You held up the bottles in your hands and turned on a toothy smile. "Water? Anyone?" They all sighed in relief and got their turns in picking their own bottled water, the last one not being picked up by Hyunjin, so you decided to give it to him. You brought the cold drink to his face making him flinch as he looked up at you. "Thank you for the bread, by the way." You told him and giggled. "I've already packed your jacket in your bag." You informed him and patted his back.

The once crazily terrifying atmosphere now turned into a more comfortable one, the one you always would want to see. You didn't know what got you the courage to speak or blurt out whatever you had in your mind, but you looked at Hyunjin and said: "Hyunjin, can I talk to you privately?" Thankfully, their loud voices was able to distract themselves from hearing your request to Hyunjin who sighed and nodded his head. He stood up from his seat and started to move outside of the room. You followed behind closely, feeling intimidated by the month older's tall figure. "Hyunjin..."

"Cut to the chase, M/n. I don't have much time." He told you as you nod your head in understanding and fiddled with your fingers.

"I know, you'd probably like hearing this, but could I have the permission to quit as your group's manager?" You asked him, his forehead creasing that made him pull his brows together. "I was able to notice what the group had become the moment I became your manager—"

"And do you think quitting would change it?" Hyunjin asked you with a raised brow. "If anything, it'd probably—no, it would break their hearts to know that you quitted. If you do so, you're not only quitting as a manager, but as their friend as well."

"And you're able to say that after you purposely tried to have me fired or suspended from work by offering me that bread?" You sarcastically answered, Hyunjin clearing his throat.

"Well... that wasn't my intention. I didn't even know it'd get you fired." Hyunjin replied making you chuckle.

"Yeah..." You replied with a sad smile. "But, I don't wanna be the reason why you and Chan would always fight. Stray Kids is Stray Kids because they're fun and loving, caring. And I don't want to change that by being around the group." Hyunjin never replied anymore and you sighed. "I'm heading back now." You said and as you started to walk back inside, Hyunjin spoke.

"I wish you never entered our life, at all, M/n." He told you that got your heart broken into pieces. Sure, you admitted that he never liked you even just a bit, but him saying it so bluntly to you, it's like he does really mean it and could only care less. You were about to speak when Hyunjin beat you to it. "If so, I wouldn't be able to garner these undeniable feelings I have for you."

You froze. Were you hearing right? You just cleaned your ears this morning, well you do it everyday. Is your ear trying to play with you? "W-what?"

"DAMN! WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT?!" You gasped with your mouth full of popcorn, your boyfriend, Hyunjin seated beside you at the movie theater. He smiled at you admiring how cute you looked with your shocked expression that was being illuminated by the big screen. "Jinnie! Look, they're gonna kiss! AH!!" As the two actors in the movie was about to kiss, one of the movie's cast bursted out of the door cutting the kiss and earned a few 'oh's and 'I hate you, Chan's. "Chan is such a cock blocker."

"Watch your mouth, babe." Hyunjin told you making you pout.

"It's true, though!" You retorted and Hyunjin could only laugh at your cuteness and honest opinions.

#hwang hyunjin x male reader #bottom male reader #x male reader #bxb #male reader #idol x male reader #kpop #fanfiction #stray kids x male reader #skz x male reader #stray kids #boy group #angsty #skz #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years ago

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Chocolate and Night Caps: College! AU Yuzuha Shiba x Reader

synopsis: written by @thehypestdeano for our 3K Universitas Collab! (BRO Y'ALL BETTER HYPE THIS SHIT UP, THIS IS HER FIRST TIME WRITING FOR US OMG) Prompt #8: Character A baking cookies in the communal kitchen at 3am, and Character B is angry… but also really hungry.

wc: 2.8k

tw: fluff

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The sorority house kitchen is quiet (save for a phone’s speakers playing low volume music) and warm, due to a preheating oven. In these small hours of the night, Alpha Theta’s residents should be tucked tight into bed, resting up for new days and early classes. Alas… you had wanted cookies.

Any and all attempts to stave off the midnight craving soon turned to bargaining after the first hour, where it had been decided that tiptoeing downstairs to make some sweet snacks would be a better use of time than lying awake, pretending you could wait until morning. Besides, you were positive that everyone in the house would appreciate fresh cookies - and that was just the perfect, made-up, selfless excuse you needed to justify 2AM baking.

So you went to work, being as careful as you could not to make noise while pulling out ingredients and placing down parchment paper. Slow-moving and sleepy, but steadily, you rolled dough into little balls between your palms before placing them in neat rows on a baking sheet, introducing mix-ins like chocolate chips or colored sprinkles every now and again for extra sweetness.

Ignoring how tired you were, your focus was completely centered on the task in front of you - so determined to taste that crisp, toasty, chewy goodness before bed that you almost didn’t notice that you weren’t the only member of the house who was up and about at this time of night. The soft shuffling of slippers across the floor was just barely audible over your music. When your dulled, sluggish ears picked up the sound, you looked over to see someone who somehow seemed even more sluggish than you.

With eyes drooping and brow quirked, a pajama-clad Yuzuha peered around the corner into the kitchen to see you awake and hard at work. Her head tilted in curiosity; fly-away hairs from her messy bun falling to one side before she realized what it was that you were working on, and then let out an amused snort.

“A little late night baking?” She’d asked, voice low while entering the room and walking up to the counter beside you, claiming a sizable handful of chocolate chips for herself.

“Just a little.” Two whole trays of cookies made from scratch might be more than what some people would consider ‘a little’, but it’s what the craving had called for. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Yuzuha shook her head and sighed. You watched as she popped a couple of candies into her mouth and then spoke around them - “I haven’t gone to sleep yet. I just finished the project I was working on.”

“Just?? I thought you said you were close to completing it in the afternoon?”

“I was. And I would have had it done before evening, if my phone hadn’t been blowing up since I got out of class. You never know how popular you are until everyone you know tries to talk to you all at once.”

“Well that just means you’re everybody’s favorite, right?” Her eyes narrow at you briefly as she chews her chocolate chips. You can’t help but chuckle at Yuzuha’s expression before sliding the bowl of toppings over to her, inviting her to take more and continue talking while you scoop more cookie dough into your hands.

“If this is what I get for being a favorite, I’m just going to start being a huge bitch to everyone and see how they like me then.”

“I think you should do it, honestly, that sounds hot.” Her eyes are rolling, now, and her tongue clicks but she can’t stop the smirk from forming on her face. “Besides, you’re my favorite too, and being my favorite gets you perfectly timed late night snacks, doesn’t it?”

Yuzuha hums, pondering the trade off as she picks out a few more sugary morsels and tosses them back. She brushes her hands off on the fabric of her shorts and crosses her arms over her chest, leaning a hip against the counter, seemingly satisfied to watch you work. Still, you’d been able to hear it in her voice - despite how quietly you both had been talking - she sounded drained, and it wasn’t just from a need to sleep.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” You offer, placing the last bit of dough down on the tray to be baked.

Her eyebrows furrow, and she frowns. It’s obvious to you that a part of her doesn’t want to, or that she feels like she shouldn’t complain too much. But all it took was a subtle elbow nudge before she started to spill.

“It’s just annoying. I had it set in my mind that I’d finish this project today and have time to spare. The deadline isn’t even until Monday, so I had no need to stay up this late - I just had to finish it out of spite. And we made plans for this weekend, I had to finish it tonight,” she groaned, head thrown back while you washed and dried your hands at the sink.

After sliding both trays into the hot oven, you thought to yourself, ‘That’s true, we did make plans.’ Aside from a few small sorority activities that had been scheduled, you and Yuzuha had a date planned for the nearest instance of overlapping free time you shared. Knowing her tendencies to stay busy, though, it made sense as to why she was trying so hard to stick to her own plans, lest something come up to get in the way.

It also stirred your heart a bit, knowing you were part of the reason she had been pushing herself. With clean hands, you moved to stand in front of her and unfold her arms, trailing fingers down to interlock with hers and show that she had your full attention.

“I’m serious, I might just silence my phone tomorrow. Everybody simultaneously wants to talk to me when I’m in the middle of doing things, I need to start making them take a number or queue up.”

“Was something going on today? Everyone okay?”

“They’re all fine; none of it was anything important,” she sighs, shaking her head. “My brother is having one of his little crush conundrums, and felt the need to Facetime me every ten minutes. I swear, he’s with this guy near constantly, and every time they’re not together he’s going right to his phone to cry to me how much he misses him.’”

“Wait, which brother is this?”

“Hakkai,” she said plainly, turning slightly towards the counter for more chocolate. “There’s no way Taiju would come to me with any of his romance problems. Which, honestly, I’m grateful I don’t ever have to hear about.”

“Yeah, you say that, but I know you wouldn’t turn him down if he actually asked.” Your free hand joins hers in the bowl, digging for the chips that your sixth sense is telling you will taste better than the others. You have half a mind to help her finish them off while you stand and talk in hushed tones, but the other half says the completed confections will be far superior once the bake is done.

‘Just need a bit of patience.’

“Well we’ll never know if it never happens.” A sly, sideways glance is cast as she makes sure her evasive response stands, and you concede with a shrug. “Oh, but you wanna know what he did ask me today?”

Taking chocolate chips between your lips, you chuckle at her sudden comfort in offering up complaints. “What’s that?”

“He goes, ‘Yuzuha–’” Her deep-voiced imitation of her brother could have made you choke. Noticing that as your hand covers your mouth, it was hard to keep a grin away from her own. “‘Yuzuha, find out if you guys need help for that game night thing.’ And I got pissed off! It’s such a simple thing and I got more mad than I should have, but seriously? I’m not the event organizer here. I can’t figure out why he hadn’t asked Akane; I know he has her number, they’ve talked about these house leader logistical things before.”

“Maybe they’re having a presidential spat or something.”

“Ugh.” Yuzuha grimaced. “I’m gonna have to ask her about it later. More food on my plate…”

“Nooo, no more food; look - chocolate,” you suggested, pulling some chips up from the bowl and motioning for her to open her mouth.

Readily, she parted her lips to accept the sweets on her tongue, allowing them to melt along with the last remnants of her fading irritation. Such a late night, but the overwhelming nature of the day had just finally started to fall away from her features. Her brow smoothed out, and her stance visibly untensed after these meager offerings of attentiveness and sugar.

You get a split second to appreciate the shift before the timer on your phone starts to buzz.

Cookies are done.

“You’ll never guess what the worst part was–” Despite her grievances still being aired, her tone had lightened and it made you smile. “And it was actually also the only entertaining thing to happen today.”

“I’m listening,” you affirmed, albeit pulling away to prepare yourself with oven mitts. Yuzuha wiped invisible crumbs off on her pajamas a second time, moving to turn the cellular alarm off for you before resuming.

“The entire time I was on speakerphone with Taiju, Ran kept spam texting me emojis because I wasn’t answering him. So while my brother was trying to argue with me, I kept getting pop-ups of clowns and eggplants and random stuff - some of it read like reaction commentary.”

As the hot air from the oven hit you square in the face, you huffed out a laugh, easily able to picture both how annoyed Yuzuha would have been about Ran’s hieroglyphic nonsense messages, and how amusing it might have been to see an eyes & lips combo appear while Taiju was trying to talk about something seriously. Still, you attempted to feign indignation at what was said.

“This guy’s got some nerve to be harassing my favorite girl with his eggplant emojis. Who does he think he is?” You faked a fussy expression while you examined your cookies and put them up onto the counter.

“He thinks he’s funny, apparently. Rindou, too; they both were messaging me, trying to get me to go to the Iota Kappa party tonight.” She sidles up to peek at the perfectly crisped disks with much more interest than she’d spoken about the aforementioned frat party. “I’d almost consider it harassment if I wasn’t friends with them. I couldn’t explain why I’m friends with either of the Haitanis, though.”

“The only things Haitanis do is be bisexual, dye they hair, eat ass, and lie.”

Yuzuha reeled behind you and cried out as quietly as she could, shielding her mouth yet unable to stifle the sudden surge of giggles. “Oh my god…! I have to tell Ran you said that, he’s going to get a kick out of it,” she snickered.

“Well, as long as you also got a kick out of it, that’s all that matters to me,” you said, triumphant in earning a laugh. Giving her a moment to collect herself and permitting the cookies a chance to cool, you turned off the oven and started on cleaning up the kitchen.

Not long now… The little golden-browned delicacies you had yearned for are finally within reach, and soon they would be in your stomach. That joy doubled with the burst of energy you got watching Yuzuha fan her face after laughing.

“Ahh, alright, I’m okay,” she sighed, catching her breath. “Damn, these cookies smell way too good… My original plan in coming down here was just to get some wine before bed, but you got me talking and now I’ve become tempted with chocolate.”

“Help yourself, just be careful, they’re still hot,” you warned, replacing dry ingredients in the pantry. “And if you do get some wine then pour me a glass too. Akane would be clutching her pearls if she knew you were drinking alone in the middle of the night. She’d call a house meeting and everything.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not alone then.” With your back turned, you missed the soft smile that had been aimed your way, but by the time you faced her again, she was facing the liquor cabinet.

After all the mess had been cleaned up, the two of you stood together in front of the absolute tastiest-looking midnight snack your tired eyes ever did see, each with your own glass filled a little more than halfway with one of the white wines that was saved for house dinners and celebrations. You had toasted to Yuzuha’s finished project - it’s completion signaling that your respective weekends would allow you to spend a little bit more quiet time together, hopefully more than what you’d had tonight. Nonetheless, it was all time well spent.

About two-thirds of that went unsaid, however, as you were too busy stuffing your mouth with baked goods.

“I really needed this. I haven’t had cookies this good since the ones you made for the last big bake sale,” she professed, radiating bliss as she took another bite. “And I was starving.”

“Did you not eat dinner?” A well-timed sip and her averted eyes afforded her a second to think of a sufficient, not untruthful response.

“Define dinner? A bunch of chocolate chips and two cookies counts, right?”

“I’m telling Akane.” The finger you felt jabbed into your side tickled more than it hurt, and almost made you spill your wine.

“It’ll be okay, I’m going to finish this one glass of wine and brush my teeth, then it’s straight to bed. I’ll eat a real breakfast before I leave in the morning.”

You gazed at her from over your glass before putting it down on the counter, eyeing her suspiciously as you scanned her face for signs of a bluff but only found stray crumbs and a sleepy smile. ‘She’s too cute like this.’

“Do you promise?”

“I do.” She said so earnestly - you could tell she sincerely didn’t want to cause you any worry.

Content with her answer and too charmed by her in the moment, your hand moves up to smooth over the skin of her cheek. Your thumb sweeps a spot of chocolate away from the corner of her mouth before you decide to press your lips to hers. It was a chaste kiss, but it was held long enough to seal the significance.

When you pulled away, you could see her tongue slip along the seam of her lips, seeking out any remaining traces of you but catching only the flavors of your shared snack and wine. It took her a second to come back to herself - if you’d tried to tease her about it, she’d blame being tired, but both of you would know that wasn’t the case so she was glad you didn’t bring it up.

“Thank you, for all of this,” were her first words after finding her voice. “For listening and everything.”

You leave her with another warm kiss on the cheek opposite the one being held in your palm, pressing hard enough from both sides to squish her face just the tiniest bit, just enough to elicit a giggle. “No thanks necessary. As long as you feel better.”

“I do. I feel a lot better than I did.”

“Good, because your head is going to be killing you when you wake up.”

The mere thought had Yuzuha groaning already, suddenly remembering what time it was and how few hours she had to sleep before she would be getting up again. She swallowed down the rest of her glass of wine.

“Alright go on upstairs,” you started, giving her one last good smooch on the lips. “Go get some rest.” Two more kisses on her cheek and jaw before you released her face and turned away, stopping yourself from keeping her there until daybreak. “I’m going to clean up and find containers for all this, then I’ll head up too.”

“My room?” If she wasn’t as exhausted as she was, the question might have come with a little more suggestiveness than none at all, and you might have shot back a flirty look if you weren’t equally as tired. ‘Meet you there’ was the most you could manage.

“If you pass out before I get there, then goodnight, Yuzuha.”

“Goodnight~” And with that, she’d retreated up the stairs, climbing as carefully as she could - a modest effort with how heavy her feet felt.

It might have been too much wine in her glass. Definitely too much sugar before bed. But Yuzuha was grateful for the sour taste of her evening to have been exchanged for something sweeter. Whether it was warmth from the oven, or the alcohol, or the heat in her face lingering after those last few fast kisses, a sudden coziness had overtaken her, alongside hopes of her dreams to be just as sweet.

And you definitely got your cookies.

#yuzuha shiba #yuzuha shiba x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #universitascollab

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