#and the kid stomp running is annoying but it's also kind of silly so like whatever
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kneworder · 6 months ago
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i live in a duplex and last night our downstairs neighbors had the most heinous argument we've ever heard them have it went on for three hours you could hear them yelling all over our house including the second floor. from what we could tell by shamelessly eavesdropping it seems there were cheating accusations on both sides. they also have a toddler who must be running around in lead boots at all times because you can hear him thumping about concerningly late into the night. tonight they have been blasting music so loud it was audible upstairs. not their favorite just dance songs like usual -- they're big fans of todrick hall apparently, we hear the nails hair hips heels beat through the floor constantly -- but just plain old bass boosted music. it is 2:30 in the morning. need you to know that my incredibly brave housemate (a college student living off campus in a house with friends) marched down there to ask very politely that our neighbors (a couple in their early 30s with a toddler) please please please turn the music down because we're trying to sleep and got an "................okay...." in response. i feel so fucking bad for that kid and honestly for that couple too (especially the woman, that argument was brutal) because they're CLEARLY going through something but like. i also want to go to bed.
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hallowxiu · 4 years ago
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A Chance Meeting
pairing: human!mammon/demon!gn!mc
word count: 5.6k
summary: Never one for fate, you run into Mammon for a second time, albeit in a less than ideal scenario.
a/n: tw: there are mentions of pocket knives and mugging in this one shot.
part two of the demon!mc and human!mammon series. 
part one
“Wow,” Satan comments as he steps into the kitchen, looking around at the disarray of all the dishes on the counters and in the sink. “This is the eighth day in a row you’ve been on cooking duty. And for all meals too, what did you do to piss off Lucifer so bad?” A sheepish smile formed on your lips and you can hear more footsteps coming towards the kitchen. 
“You’re on cooking duty again? I miss Lucifer’s cooking!” Asmodeus stomps his foot and there’s a pout on his lips. You roll your eyes in response, but you didn’t exactly blame your younger brother. Your cooking wasn’t… the best. It certainly wasn’t the worst by any means, but it also wasn’t something you’d want for a week straight. 
“Ah, well, you better get used to my cooking for the next several months. It’s my punishment.” You felt like crying on the spot. Too much cooking, way too much cooking. And to keep Beelzebub fed for so many days? That within itself was a punishment. Satan quirked an eyebrow at your news. 
“What in the Devildom did you possibly do?”
“I uh, well, you see…” You didn’t want to explain this to your brothers, especially the two of them. They were quite ruthless when it came to gossip. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be our role model? No wonder he’s stricter with the punishments.” There’s a cheeky grin on Asmodeus’ face and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he tries to piece together what you must’ve done. 
“Then again, he favors you most, so your punishments aren’t that bad in comparison to ours.” Satan chimes in where Asmodeus left off. With a sigh, you decide to tell them. You knew they’d never leave you alone if you didn’t.
“I snuck off to the human realm.” 
Silence.
Yeah, you should have expected that. In fact, you were. “Oh, well, yeah, that’ll do it.” Is all Asmodeus says before leaving the room. “Make something good tonight! I’m hungry, but don’t make it so oily this time! My skin is starting to suffer because of you!” You shake your head at Asmodeus, though you make the mental note anyway. One less person angry with you would be ideal, after all. You pause when you notice Satan still lingering by the entryway of the kitchen. 
“What’s up?” You ask while you open the fridge, your eyes scanning for potential ingredients. You had no idea what to make; you exhausted your options after the second day. It’s a miracle you’ve managed to make it this long already. 
“Why do you want to go to the human realm? To my understanding, you were never the type before that showed any particular interest in humans. I was told that it was Lilith and Belphegor’s route of interest.” Leave it to Satan to be the most curious. You were hardly surprised, after all, Satan was the only one who was never an angel, the only one who never met Lilith, and the only one who never experienced first hand the shit show that went down the day leading to everyone falling. You knew the other brothers rarely talked to him about their previous life, and you wondered if that ever upset him. However, being the doting older sibling, you didn’t like the idea of Satan feeling left out. If anything, he got all the details from you. 
“I wanted to know what Lilith liked about humans so much, why she was willing to put everything on the line for one.” You answer your brother honestly. “Belphegor as well, I was hoping maybe that’d help me get closer with him. I know you don’t know from experience, but he wasn’t always this hostile and bitter. I’m not sure if the others told you, but he also adored humans just as much as Lilith. The two of them frequented the human realm together all the time.”
Satan seems to be soaking in the information like a sponge. You’re sure he’s grateful for the new information and while you knew he’d never tell you, he hated feeling left out with everyone. Maybe this would help him feel closer with the others. “I did not know that, although I suppose that would make sense. Beelzebub tells me a bit about Lilith and Belphegor every now and then. He always looks a little depressed when talking about them, so I assumed Belphegor changed compared to before.” You nod your head to Satan’s conclusion. “Did you find what you were looking for?” Images of the white-haired man suddenly flood your brain and you fight off a creeping blush that threatens to spread on your face. Did you find what you were looking for? You found something, but that doesn’t exactly answer the question. 
“I don’t know.” You answer honestly once again. “I had only been down twice when Lucifer busted my ass. You know how he can be.” You sigh while putting containers of various ingredients on the counter. “Honestly, this is a pretty mild punishment for what I did.” Satan scoffs in response. You knew he’d disagree with anything having to do with the eldest brother. “That being said, I would like to go back.” Satan’s green eyes look at you in curiosity. You? The second eldest going against Lucifer? Now that’s something you don’t see every day. “I met a human there,” you try to tread carefully, “and we didn’t get off on the best foot.” 
“So?” The blond looks at you with a head tilt. “Why would you care whether or not you got off on the wrong foot with a human?” You supposed it was hard for a demon to understand why this would matter. Then again, you were a demon and you didn’t even understand why this mattered to you. “Please don’t tell me you don’t know again.” He groans from your silence. “This is hardly interesting at this point. If you’re going to get in trouble with Lucifer, you might as well make it something good.”
“Sorry my life is too boring for your standards.” You snort while prying off a lid. “But it’s the truth. He was nice enough for a human.” Cute too, but Satan didn’t need to know that. 
“Well.” a sigh leaves your brother, “keep me updated if you end up going back. Not that I find this interesting or anything. I just like pissing off Lucifer.” You chuckle to yourself once the other leaves. You thought his thinly veiled attempts of keeping track of your personal life was cute, even if he’d rather die than admit it. A sigh leaves you once you bring your attention back to the dilemma in front of you. Right, you’d have to get through this first. 
You’re on your bed, fingers drumming along the back of your D.D.D case. You were bored out of your mind and done with cooking duty for the day. It was late into the night and most of your brothers would be asleep by now, so why weren’t you? An annoyed breath of air escapes you and you turn on your side. You can’t get that damned kid out of your head. Had he put some kind of curse on you? You thought the thought was nothing but that at first, a silly thought, but now that you can’t even sleep because of this mere human, your sleep-deprived state thinks it might be a little more serious than a passing thought. 
You push yourself to sit up. You rub at your eyes groggily and you internally debate whether or not you should return to the human realm. The odds of Mammon being out and about were extremely slim, especially since the hour over there would also be ungodly. You were anxious for some reason, your body wanting to get up and start the day despite it being only a quarter past three in the morning. You were never one to believe in fate or get worked up over it, but your body was in panic mode and you had little to no idea why. You weren’t the type to get anxious over nothing either, and you thought you knew your body well enough as it was, but it seems you were mistaken. With a sigh, you close your eyes and prepare yourself for the future lecture you’d be sure to get. You already knew where you planned to go. 
The air was cold, biting at your skin as you found yourself standing in the middle of the empty streets. You were back in the city you had visited the last two times, though something seemed… off. You couldn’t place as to what, but it was enough to send alarms throughout your body. You walked down the streets, for once regretting that you didn’t bring a jacket. Did demons tend to become more sensitive with each time they traveled to the human realm? You never remembered being this cold before. 
Your eyes scanned over the closed stores, not a single soul out on the streets. You didn’t realize that even the city got this empty at night; you were expecting at least a few people here and there. It’s when you’d been walking for about ten minutes that you heard a commotion from one of the back alleys. Your eyebrow quirked and you paused in place. Should you get involved? As a demon, you didn’t want to meddle with humans too much, not if they weren’t Mammon or if you weren’t needed. Besides, what would your reputation turn to if you were caught helping humans in need whenever they were in trouble? Just keep going, that’s what you ended up telling yourself. 
“Oi, whaddya think you’re doin’? Get your dirty hands off me!”
Okay, fuck that. Scratch every single thought that was previously in your head; it’s up in flames now. You found yourself rushing towards the source of the noise with your eyes blown wide as you frantically searched for the human you hoped wasn’t the one in trouble. “Mammon?” You shouted into the night. Every nerve was going off and you were just barely keeping your demon form back. You heard Mammon calling out for you and it kicked you into overdrive. You’re by his side in a second, pulling him away from a group of three men. “What the hell is going on here?” 
“These annoyin’ assholes are tryna steal my money! A man can’t even walk home in peace without gettin’ mugged! Can ya believe that shit?” Still, you didn’t miss the way he inched closer to you as he anxiously glanced between the three of them. 
“I thought your job closed in the evening?” You asked incredulously as you managed to put space between Mammon and the strangers. 
“I have two jobs! Ya ever tried livin’ in a city? Do we even need to be discussin’ this right now?” Your eyes caught a glimpse of something shining and you abruptly moved in front of Mammon when noticing it was a pocket knife. 
“We only planned on roughing him up a bit.” The man with the weapon explained, a smirk on his lips as he took a step closer. “But since he got his friend involved to make things more complicated, I think we’ll have to do a bit more than that.” You weren’t the least bit scared, but you needed to keep in mind that Mammon was a human and that the boy could easily get hurt if things went wrong. 
“Get a job like him and you won’t need to mug people for the holidays.” You deadpan, Mammon gasping behind you.
“Are ya tryna get us killed? God, ya shoulda just kept walkin’!” Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance but you choose to ignore him for the time being. Did humans always have to be so ungrateful when they were in the middle of being aided? 
Realistically, there were a few ways to go about this. The obvious and easiest one involved you shifting into your demon form, but then you’d have to kill three humans and scar Mammon. The cons were outweighing the pros, no matter how fast the situation would be resolved. The second option would be to fight them in your current form, which wouldn’t be too much of a problem as your strength wasn’t in question, but you’d still more than likely end up killing the three humans and traumatizing Mammon. He’d also probably want to call the police. Too much of a hassle for you. 
Finally, you could just… scare them. They’d run away, Mammon would be safe, and no one would end up dead. The only con would be if Mammon ended up seeing how you planned on scaring them, but that was your last option and you didn’t have a ton of time to come up with any others on the spot. “Mammon,” you turned your head slightly so that you could see him, “stay where you are, okay? Don’t move and don’t get in front of me.” If you could do this with him standing behind you, that would be the ideal situation. When he nodded his head in confirmation, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh. The three men were advancing slowly, thrown off by your calm demeanor. It’s when you opened your eyes again that you could feel your face begin to shift and transform into something else, a form a demon only takes when their aim was, to put it bluntly, to scare the shit out of humans. 
Naturally, when seeing your face, the three men dropped their weapons and ran, yelling and screaming the entire way until you were sure they were gone. Just as fast as you had transformed your face, you averted it back to its original form, turning around to face Mammon. “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Now that you could properly analyze him, you had noticed he was covered with dirt and scratches, but other than that he seemed to be free of any major injuries. The man’s dazed as you looked him over, your hands pulling at his clothes and running through his hair to make sure you didn’t accidentally miss anything fatal. 
“They just roughed me up a little, that’s all. Ya know, grabbin’ my hair and shit and throwin’ me on the ground. All that fun stuff.” You could tell he was shaken up, but other than that your human seemed to be in good health. 
Wait. Your human? Why did you think that? It’s fine, just ignore it, it was probably just a slip-up. You’re panicked, after all, there’s no need to worry-
“How’d ya scare them off like that anyway?” 
“Uh, I showed them a bigger pocket knife.” It was a lame excuse, but it’s what you had to work with. 
“Oh, okay.” You’re thanking everything in the universe that he didn’t question you further on that. At the same time though… 
“You really should question things more. Who knows what could gobble you up out here. How’d you even end up in this situation? Did they tell you to follow them?” You couldn’t help but mother hen him. Even though he admitted to being alright, and that it checked out, you were still worried over this fragile little human that needed your help and protection at all costs. Yes, that’s it. You were being generous with your time and helping a human out, that was all it was. He would owe you, that was for sure. 
“What-- are you seriously grillin’ me right now? What happened to not victim blamin’ and shit, huh? They didn’t say shit to me! They just came up on me like I was a plate of steak and they were all starved dogs!” Interesting comparison, you note duly. “Next thing I know, I’m gettin’ dragged into some shady ass alley and they’re tryna steal all my shit! The joke’s on them, I’m flat broke anyway. They would have killed me and still walked away with jackshit.” That did little to ease your concerns. It amplified them. 
“How are you still alive?” It was a question for yourself, but based on Mammon’s facial expression, you said it out loud. 
“I’ll have ya know I’m great at self-defense! I didn’t need ya runnin’ to my aid like I was some damsel in distress or somethin’.” There was a red tint to his cheeks, but you weren’t sure if that was because of what just happened. 
“Right.” You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. You glanced at the time on your D.D.D, ignoring the fact that Mammon was sending your phone a glare. Right, probably because I made up that lie the other day. You needed to get back home; should Lucifer find out you left yet again, he would have your head on a stick. At the same time, however, you didn’t feel comfortable leaving Mammon alone after he nearly got mugged. “Where do you live?” Consequences be damned, you weren’t letting anything else happen to this human. 
“Huh?”
“Where do you live?” You repeated yourself as if it were a normal question to ask someone outside in an alley past three in the morning. “You don’t think I’m letting you walk home alone after all that, do you?” There’s a sly grin on your lips when Mammon begins to practically have a temper tantrum over your words. “Why are you so upset? I’m trying to make sure you don’t get mugged again. You could at least thank me.” Why were humans so ungrateful and complicated? “The quicker you stop throwing a complete fit, the sooner we get you back home.”
“I am not a child!” 
“I never said you were.”
“You’re implyin’ it!”
“I’m doing no such thing.” 
You decided to dial back the teasing in case he pops a blood vessel. With a sigh, you turned around on your heels. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you alone now. Just be careful and keep your guard up.” There was no way in hell you were going to leave him alone. If anything you’d just follow him in the shadows until you knew he was safe and sound. Stalkerish? Yes, possibly, but the right intentions were there.
As you began to walk away, a timid hand reached out and grabbed at your wrist. “Alright, fine. You can come with me, but don’t misunderstand. I’m not scared or nothin’, I’m just doin’ this simply so you’ll leave me alone.” A lopsided grin forms on your face when you look at his cute expression. Yeah, you were in trouble. 
The walk was mostly filled with silence, the two of you strolling along side-by-side as you kept an eye out for any more potential threats. Mammon seemed less anxious now that you were with him, and that put a part of you at ease. The walking came to an abrupt stop and you looked up from the ground to view an apartment complex that you assumed Mammon lived in. “This your place?” It looked like you’d be able to get home before Lucifer found anything out after all.
“Yeah.” He’s rubbing at his arms awkwardly as he lingers outside. “Uh, thanks for, uh, helpin’ me out and whatnot.” 
“Of course.” You knew there was something he was holding back based on his posture. “What’s wrong? Did someone follow us?” You turned around to quickly scan the area, though nothing came up. 
“What? No! I just, I was wonderin’, if-- look, it’s late out, yeah? And it’s cold as fuck and ya don’t have a jacket on, so, I don’t know, did ya maybe want to, possibly spend the night?” You froze in place, a look of pure shock on your face as you stared at the human. “It’s nothin’ sexual!” He practically cried out in embarrassment. “It’s just to repay ya for helpin’ me out! I swear!” 
You rub at the back of your neck shyly as you glanced around. “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” So much for getting back home early. 
You slip your shoes off once you walked inside before awkwardly standing in the middle of his living room. What were you supposed to do now? You swore in all of your life you’ve never been so awkward before, and not around a human either. “Feel free to sit on the couch if you’d like.” Mammon offers as he quickly grabbed the trash from the coffee table. “I’ll get ya some blankets from the closet, pillows too.” You do as you're told and you sit down to avoid feeling awkward. You look around the room once he’s gone. It wasn’t… bad. Sure, it was nowhere near the size of the House of Lamentation, but it wasn’t awful, either. Pictures of him and his friends were framed on the walls, empty pizza boxes were stacked on the kitchen counter, and empty water bottles filled the recycling bin to the rim. He was a little messy, but then again he wasn’t expecting company, so you decided not to judge him for it. Not too much, anyway. There was a small television held up by a cardboard box across from the coffee table. You had to give him credit for creativity. 
“Sorry that the place is a dump.” Mammon reenters the room with blankets piled up in his arms, as well as a change of clothes for you. “I usually clean up when company comes over, but obviously…” His voice trails off as you take the blankets and clothes from him. 
“Thank you.” You smiled up at him and the red tint to his cheeks return. 
“You’re welcome.” He huffed under his breath before disappearing once again. “Let me find ya some pillows. I have a few extra ones around here somewhere.” He calls out from down the hall. You look down at the clothes he gave you. A baggy plain shirt and a pair of sweatpants. It was better than sleeping in your clothes you supposed. You began to pull your shirt over your head so that you could properly change before Mammon came stumbling back into the room. “I found some- oh god! Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you’d be changin’-- I have a bathroom, ya know. What the fuck am I even apologizin’ for? Who changes in the middle of someone’s livin’ room anyway?” You blink and looked over at a beet red Mammon who’s gripping onto the pillows for dear life, his eyes looking anywhere but at you. You didn’t understand the big deal, but then again, humans tended to react strangely to others who were naked or in the process of changing. 
You slowly pulled your shirt back down and looked over at him again. “Sorry.” Is all you have to offer him. 
“I,” it took him a second to recollect his bearings, “ya really aren’t from here, are ya?” 
“No, I’m really not.” 
“Right then…” He shifts on his feet uncomfortably before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I brought you some pillows.” He dumps them into your lap before storming down the hall. “I’m goin’ to bed; don’t steal anythin’ or I’ll kick ya to the curb!” You rolled your eyes at his empty threat before grabbing your clothes and pillows. This would count as one of the strangest nights of your life.
You woke up to the sun shining in your face, something you weren’t accustomed to. You rubbed at your eyes sleepily before pausing. No, as odd as it may be to you, the sun was not the thing that woke you up. A sharp poke to your side makes you look over.
Yes, that’s what woke you up. 
You look over from where you were lying on the couch to see Mammon’s foot more or less kicking your side. He wasn’t putting any force behind the kick, but it nonetheless made you raise an eyebrow. “Are you kicking me?” The man paused his ministrations when realizing you were awake. 
“I thought you were dead.”
“What?”
“I don’t know; sometimes people die in their sleep. Was makin’ sure ya weren’t one of them? How would I explain that to the police?” You stared at Mammon in disbelief, the white-haired man growing red in response to your judgmental glare.
“Ya don’t need to be so rude.” He finally huffs out in response and turned around with his arms crossed over his chest. “Listen, I was just wakin’ ya up because I need to get goin’ to work soon and I can’t have ya stayin’ around unsupervised in case ya steal all of my shit and I come back to a cleaned out apartment.” Well, he was certainly blunt with what he was thinking. 
You slowly sit up and grab your D.D.D. You figured it was still early in the morning since Mammon had once mentioned that he worked at the crack of dawn. If you were lucky, you could make it back home before Lucifer would notice. 
And that’s when you remembered that you saw sunshine when you woke up.
With immediate panic, you unlock your phone to look at the time. To your horror, it was nearly eleven in the morning. Lucifer was awake and speaking of the devil himself, you had several missed calls and messages from your brothers, specifically from Lucifer. You bolted from where you were previously resting as Mammon watched before he stumbled back from your sudden movements. “What’s goin’ on?”
“I gotta go.” You quickly said as you scooped up your clothes and rushed towards the door. Clumsily slipping on your shoes, you turned back to him. “I’ll return your clothes to you another day. Make sure you don’t get mugged again on your way home. If you need to, buy some mace or pepper spray or something.” Before he could respond to your advice, you’re out his front door and running down the hall. You were so so screwed.
Screwed hadn’t even begun to cover it. You showed up in the clothes a human lent you, reeking of a human, still drowsy as you had just woken up not long ago, and just overall completely disheveled. On top of that, you knew Lucifer was awake, but you had hoped to arrive home at a time where he was out with Diavolo and you’d be able to shower and change before your inevitable lecture, which might have gotten you off a little easier.
Except that’s not what happened, as before you even unlocked the front door Lucifer swung it open. Now you were sitting in his office as Lucifer silently paced around his room. This had been going on for thirty minutes. You could tell your brothers were waiting on the other side of the door, trying to see if they could hear anything. You wanted to tell them not to hold their breath, but you were too nervous to move and unable to take your eyes off your eldest brother. 
“I thought I told you not to go back to the human realm.” You quickly looked away when Lucifer locked on to your gaze. “Look at me when I’m talking to you; I will not repeat myself.” Hesitantly, you found yourself looking back over at him. “Answer me.” His tone was that of a warning, and you knew at that moment you were on thin ice.
“You did.”
“And yet I found your room empty last night, and your D.D.D nearly unreachable.” You opened your mouth to speak, but Lucifer raises a hand to keep you silent. “And then I found myself thinking, that out of all my siblings, you couldn’t have been that stupid to return to the human realm after I told you to stop.” You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, and you lean back against the couch you were sitting on. You tried to shrink yourself, but that didn’t make Lucifer any less intimidating. “And then I thought, ‘Lucifer, don’t be so hard on them, maybe they needed a fresh breath of air. You can’t accuse your siblings of being up to something whenever they’re out of your sight. Surely they aren’t that bad.’” He quickened his pace as he circled the room. “But then after two hours you didn’t return, and something told me you yet again disobeyed me and returned to the very place I warned you not to go. Tell me, was watching Lilith and Belphegor suffer because humans not good enough for you? You were never a sibling I had to worry about before. You always listened to me and you helped me keep everyone in line. Why is it that now I have to keep my eye on you?” He stopped abruptly and rubbed at his temples. 
You felt irritation stir deep inside you, though you bit back what you wanted to say. You knew Lucifer was getting worked up, and if you started an argument now, it wouldn’t end well for anyone involved. “I’m sorry.” Keeping the peace seemed like a better option for you at the moment. You knew what battles to pick, and this was not one of them. “I shouldn’t have lied to you and snuck out--”
“You came back in the clothes of a human.” Lucifer seethed. “You smelled like a human. Do you have a human lover? Are you seeing a human?” He looks at you with wide eyes, the demon looking like he was on the brink of insanity. “I will not watch someone I love fall because of humans. Not again. If you’re seeing a human then forget about it. It’s over.” 
“I’m not involved with a human, Lucifer.”
“Then why are you wearing their clothes? Why do you smell more human than a demon? You were gone for an entire night!” You flinch when he raised his voice and he noticed, the demon then trying to dial it back somewhat. He never liked arguing with you even when you were the one in the wrong. Perhaps it was one of the perks of being the favorite? “If you were hunting humans you wouldn’t be gone all night. If you were just looking around you wouldn’t be gone all night! Tell me, what were you doing? Who were you with?” You swallow nervously and averted your gaze. Getting Mammon in trouble, and with Lucifer of all people, was not what you wanted to do. “I will not repeat myself. Who--”
“I’m not telling you who I was with.” This wasn’t usual for you. You didn’t talk back to Lucifer, you didn’t tell him no, and you certainly didn’t argue with him. But you knew if you gave him Mammon’s information, the human that you tried so desperately to save last night might be put in danger once again, but this time by your brother. It wasn’t a situation you wanted to get involved in, so you’d try and prevent it as best as possible. 
“Pardon?” There’s a look of shock on his face, and you could almost hear one of your brother’s gasps from outside the door. 
“I’m not going to tell you who I was with last night. Why would I? So you can kill him?” If looks could kill, you’d be dead right now. 
“So it’s a man.” 
You groaned at your brother’s response. Typical Lucifer. “Lucifer, I already apologized for going without your permission, but I’m an adult, and I’m not going to give you every little detail of what I did when I was in the human realm.”
“It’s the way you think that that suffices as an apology.” He states in disbelief. “You need to learn to stay in your place.”
“And where’s my place?”
“If you were smart, you’d learn quickly.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to ask again. Who is he?”
“I’m still not going to tell you.” You knew Lucifer would go to any length to protect those closest to him, and if he deemed Mammon as a threat it would most likely end with the human getting wiped from existence. You could see the anger just barely restrained behind his eyes, the demon shifting into his demon form without even realizing it. 
“If that’s how you want to play, then we will play it your way. You are forbidden from ever attending the human realm again.” You blink several times before rising from your seat. 
“And who are you to make that decision?”
“Along with that, you are to stay in my sight until I decide you can be trusted on your own again. Lord Diavolo doesn’t approve of random trips to the human realm, and when he finds out that you’ve been making day trips there, you’ll suddenly find yourself with lots of free time on your hands.” You paused. You hadn’t thought of that. You knew, although Diavolo was pushing for realms to reach peace with one another, that he wouldn’t approve of a demon taking unauthorized trips to the human realm. 
“But--”
“No. We’re finished here; there’s nothing further to discuss.” You knew his words held truth by the expression on his face. You watch wordlessly as Lucifer leaves his study, leaving you alone in the room with just your thoughts.
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planetsano · 4 years ago
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sugar rush!
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prompt: a very studious s/o relying on a sugar rush to make it through the day after staying up all night to study for an exam.
pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader, kirishima eijirou x reader if you squint (he's so cute I couldn't help myself)
tag(s): college!au, aged up, domestic, fluff, candy, facetime, energy crashing, weed
warning(s): drug references, cursing
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su·gar rush
Noun
A sugar rush is an experience of high energy after eating or drinking a considerable amount of sugar in a short period of time, often associated with hyperactive children.
Bakugou told you to go to bed when you facetimed him last night at 2 am. You woke him fully out of his sleep and asked to keep you company while you studied.
“What the fuck do you want?” Bakugou rubbed at his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden brightness from his phone. His eyes were extra sensitive waking up from his slumber. You were lucky because if it was anyone else he would have let the phone ring and went back to bed.
“Did I wake you? I'm sorry.” You puffed your cheeks out holding your phone closer to your face. The angle wasn't flattering, but Bakugou and you were past that point in your relationship. You were 100% positive he’s screenshotted and taken at least 1,000 ugly pictures of you. You have some of him but they always seem to magically disappear. You should really put a lock on your phone.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Bakugou was in full view now. Head propped against his pillows, hair messy, and muscles exposed from wearing a black tank top. His room was dark but his face was illuminated from the brightness of his phone. His looks never failed to make your tummy do flips. How did you land a hottie like this?
“Yeah.. I know it's late, but I want company! I feel like I'm gonna fall asleep but I have to study more.” You propped your phone against some books giving him a full view of your set up. Papers, notebooks, colorful pens and highlighters seemingly scattered randomly throughout your desk. You sat in your chair with one leg to your chest and the other planted on the ground making your chair spin from side to side. He thought you looked cute like this. Pajamas, messy hair, and glasses falling off the bridge of your nose.
“You need to sleep.” He sighed. You just rolled your eyes and picked up a textbook that was out of frame.
“I'll sleep when I'm dead.” You said nonchalantly as you opened the book and started flipping through the pages.
“I'm serious. You're going to have zero energy for tomorrow. Go to bed.” Bakugou chastised you and you sighed heavily.
“Ugh, fine. You're no fun anyway.”
Knowing you, he should have known you weren't going to listen to him last night. He thought that maybe he should've blown up your door to see if you were okay. It became the morning routine for the both of you when you first started dating. He’d knock on your door to walk you to class and you’d greet him with a sweet smile and a kiss. Everyday it was somewhere different. One day it's his lips, then the next it could be on the cheek, and his personal favorite is when you stand on your tippy toes to try to kiss his forehead. But that didn't happen today because you didn't answer.
So it was safe to say that Bakugou was a little peeved when he got to class without you by his side. He entered the classroom to see some extras idly chatting with their peers and some doing homework at the last minute. Denki and Mina were chatting towards the back of the classroom. Mina noticed the angry blond and waved him over. Bakugou walked up and greeted them both with a low hum.
“Where's (Name)?” Mina asked, tilting her head to the side. It was odd seeing Bakugou by himself.
“Don't know.” Bakugou answered bluntly.
“Aw, don't tell me you've gone and made her mad.” Mina teased. Bakugou rolled his eyes and mumbled a low “shut up.”
“Now that I think of it, where's Kirishima? I didn't see him this morning either.” Denki added.
The three continued to chat but Bakugou wasn't paying attention at all. All their talking was background noise at this point being washed out by his thoughts. He was becoming more and more anxious as the minutes went by. Class was starting soon and most of everyone had already come into the lecture room.
Were you okay?
Are you sick?
Did you need help?
Were just a couple thoughts running through his mind so you could only imagine the relief and annoyance he felt when he saw you bop into the classroom with Kirishima. He had to do a double take because not only was weird hair giving you a piggyback ride, you were pouring three pixy stix in your mouth.
Bakugou watched you hop off Kirishima’s back and happily greet your friends (which was practically the entire classroom) like an energized puppy. You went to Izuku and happily squeezed his cheeks together between your dainty hands. He didn't mind, he thought your high energy was amazing.
“Good morning, Midoriya!” You smiled at him.
“G-ood mornin-g, (Name)!” His voice was somewhat muffled as he spoke but nonetheless he had a smile on his face.
“You’re so squishy just like a mochi!.” You continued to squeeze his chubby cheeks together as the three watched on.
“(Name) is being kind of..” Denki trailed off.
Hyper was the word he was looking for. You were hyper and practically bouncing off the walls like one of those tiny rainbow balls kids got out of the candy machine for 50 cents.
“Annoying? Yeah.” Bakugou said in his usual harsh tone and started to walk over to you. He was sure to give Kirishima a death glare as he walked past him to get to Mina and Denki.
“What'd I do?” A confused Kirishima asked Denki and Mina. He knew he was going to get an earful from his friend later.
All three of them watched the irritated blond tap your shoulder. You looked excited to see him and waved Izuku goodbye while Bakugou took you to another quiet corner of the lecture hall.
“What's with you?” Bakugou asked, looking down at you.
“Whaddya mean?” You looked down at your fingers and started twiddling them together under his stare.
“You're boppin’ around like you just did 80 lines of coke.” He said.
“Am not!” You looked up at him with furrowed brows, crossed your arms then stomped your foot childishly. You weren't scaring him if that's what you thought. He also noticed that your tongue was stained blue.
“You are.” He squeezed your nose gently. “What's got you so wired?”
“I didn't sleep at all last night so Kiri brought me some candy and a slushie this morning.” You answered.
“Candy?”
“Yeah!”
“Ever heard of coffee?”
“I don't like coffee.”
“You're going to crash, you know that right?” Bakugou asked.
“It's okay ‘cause you're going to catch me, right, handsome?” You kissed his cheek and on cue the bell rang.
Throughout the entire exam Bakugou couldn't help but to keep glancing at you in your seat. Your foot was tapping rapidly against the floor as you focused on your test. Every now and again he would see you sneak some form of candy into your mouth. Your eyes never left your test when your hand slid into your bag pulling out a gummy worm. It was such a contracting sight, being incredibly focused on the exam in front of you all while chewing on something as silly as a gummy worm. Eventually class ended and exams were turned in. You were pretty confident.
By the time lunch came around, you were completely drained. In the middle of your third class your energy plummeted and all you wanted to do was sleep. You could barely keep your head lifted without slipping into sleep. You were so happy lunch came around in hopes some food would pull you through the rest of the day.
When you walked into the cafe Mina spotted you and waved you over to the table. Everyone greeted you and soon you sat next to Bakugou who had saved a seat for you.
“Hey guys.” You smiled putting your bag on the table in front of you.
“So, (Name)! We were all thinking we should hang out tonight.” Mina smiled at you with an eager smile.
“Oh, yeah? What’s the plan?” You yawned and rested your head on Bakugou’s shoulder and wrapped your arms around his bicep.
“Game night!” Kiri exclaimed.
“And a hot box.” Denki added and high-fived Kiri.
The table continued to converse about the later plans and that's when Bakugou leaned over to whisper to you.
“You gonna eat?” He asked.
“No, ‘m not hungry..” You said quietly feeling your eyes start to droop. Soon enough you were
“So how does that sound (Name)? (Na-) Oh, she's asleep.” Mina laughed at the sight. You were fully asleep, still holding onto Bakugou’s arm like it was your pillow.
“I told her to go to sleep last night but she's fucking hardheaded.” Bakugou shook his head looking at you as you were fast asleep.
“Man! I thought the candy was working!” Kirishima frowned that his plan didn't work.
“I mean, it was for a little bit.” Denki said.
“I'm gonna take her back to the dorms so she can rest.” Bakugou said and gently shook you awake.
“Wah- Was I asleep?” You asked dazedly.
“Get up dummy, I'm taking you to your room.” He said.
He spent the rest of the afternoon with you, napping the afternoon away.
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iamkidfish · 3 years ago
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some things we can’t get back (i miss the way we used to be)
Read it here!
Ian hears of a party happening this weekend from Taz Nguyen as they’re walking to class and tells Leah during their shared lunch break, sitting on a table in the quad. It’s something she’s been doing all semester, all of high school really, but there’s a weird sense of deja vu that hits Leah when Fatin, on the other side of the quad, walks by surrounded by a flock of people.
After a year, after the island, the bunker, some things stay the same: Fatin doesn’t even look at her.
or: after the island, Fatin retreats back to her old ways and Leah tries to help
Pair: Leah/Fatin
Wordcount: 2.7k of the most leatin angst I have ever written hehe
Read it on ao3 or under the cut
Leah knows something is wrong with Fatin pretty quickly after they return back to Berkeley, but it takes her months to pinpoint exactly what it is, and even longer to track her down on the weekends. It's harder than it should be, especially with Ian and Dot helping her, but then Fatin avoids eye contact with her in the hallway as Leah is walking to fourth period (like she has done all semester) and the realization hits her like a punch to the face: Fatin is running again, just like before except this time, (and it jolts sharply in Leah’s chest) she’s not just leaving out of spite, Fatin is running away from her.
It’s like she’s back in those fucking woods, muddied and exhausted, and fear is buzzing a warning in her chest that’s making her question her instincts instead of the suburbs of Berkeley, where her life should be going back to normal, but fuck, Leah will trudge through the woods until she sees Fatin again, even if she doesn’t want to be found.
Operation: Find Fatin (or O.F.F. as Ian writes it on a whiteboard in an empty classroom during their lunch break one day in October, after Leah explains the whole situation to him and embarrassingly, her feelings) starts with recon, both Leah and Ian trying to find what parties are happening and which ones Fatin is going to. That’s the hard part: determining which of her classmates Fatin would deem cool enough to party with and finding them. Once she asks, they’re more than willing to give her addresses, dates, and times, anything to get one of the members of the Unsinkable Eight to go to their party.
Ian hears of a party happening this weekend from Taz Nguyen as they’re walking to class and tells Leah during their shared lunch break, sitting on a table in the quad. It’s something she’s been doing all semester, all of high school really, but there’s a weird sense of deja vu that hits Leah when Fatin, on the other side of the quad, walks by surrounded by a flock of people.
After a year, after the island, the bunker, some things stay the same: Fatin doesn’t even look at her.
Whatever they meant to each other on the island is gone now and it still leaves the sharp acidity of disappointment in Leah’s mouth.
The information Taz gives them turns out to be fake or Fatin doesn’t show, either way it’s kind of a disaster. Both of them get healthily shitfaced off of green apple vodka that burns the back of Leah’s throat and Ian helps himself to the wine cellar in the basement, which obviously Leah needs to make fun of him for his preference for expensive white wine. Whoever’s house it is, it’s fucking ginormous, enough for Ian to air out his (long) list of drunken grievances off the top balcony, overlooking the Bay below. He shouts it like he’s the king of the world, confident and stumbling all at once, and Leah’s too drunk to stop him. If their lives were a movie then maybe Ian would try to kiss her again and maybe if they were different people then Leah would let him, but luckily, that part of their lives has passed; instead, they both lean over the railing in silence.
Later when they’re back around people, she overhears info about another party with an address that’s close enough to Uber (because there’s no fucking way either of them are driving right now) without having to justify spending too much money on tracking Fatin down—even though she’s worth it—so Leah drags Ian away from the girl he’s talking to and they scramble outside.
The autumn air is cool and welcome on her burning face. As they’re waiting for the Uber, Ian stumbles around like the drunk idiot he is and Leah can’t help but laugh at him. Their car pulls up and then she’s shoving him inside, all of their limbs flailing awkwardly. The guy driving is nice, at least; he really doesn’t talk except to tell them goodbye. Even in her inebriated state, Leah’s still coherent enough to give him a five star review. The walk up the cobblestone driveway is a long one, especially since Ian keeps wandering off onto the perfectly manicured lawn, and she’s not a complete asshole but she’s also not perfect, so she pulls Ian back onto the driveway but not before he can stomp through some flower beds. She might as well have to buy one of those child backpacks that doubles as a leash.
Just as the alcohol is wearing off enough to make her reconsider walking basically the San Francisco Marathon to get to this house party, the house comes into view. Of course it’s fucking huge, just like the last one. There’s four giant stone columns, maybe about twenty feet tall, connecting from the top of the hours to the base of the porch, and Leah has to laugh because who the fuck would ever be pretentious enough to model their house after the Parthenon.
And it hits her, because she knows exactly the type of family who lives here, the one that buys thousand dollar waterproof suitcases and sends their eldest daughter off knowing fully what’s going to happen to her, and still somehow not giving a shit, the one that cares more about appearances rather than the wellness of their own children.
Vaguely, Leah remembers Fatin mentioning her mom being a real estate agent and yeah, by the look of their house, that checks out. The next time Ian goes ambling around, Leah doesn’t stop him from ‘accidentally’ knocking over a few potted plants along the stone walkway up to the front door, spilling soil behind him like a trail of breadcrumbs. The closer they get to the house, the louder it becomes—not just with music, omnipresent bass blasting out of what’s sure to be a state of the art sound system, enough to rattle Leah’s teeth, but people, singing or yelling, trying to be heard above the music—and the whole house swells and throbs with the cacophony of it all, a whole ecosystem behind the front doors.
Her plan is simple: grab a drink or two with Ian and then start wandering the house, looking for Fatin. Leah’s got a pretty good idea that Fatin has to be around here somewhere; she’s not the type to go ghost at her own party. Automatically, the plan becomes more complicated when Ian sees some of his friends right when they walk through the front door and they motion for him to come smoke with them. Leah lets him go and watches as Ian walks away, pulling a joint from behind his ear, where it rests against that silly arrow tattoo he has.
Now she’s alone, standing in the entryway and picking at the hem of her dress, and it’s not what she imagined her first time stepping into Fatin Jadmani’s house would be like. At the very least, she thought she’d meet Fatin’s brothers (remembers how fondly Fatin would talk about them, would swap stories with Shelby about their younger siblings) or maybe even her mother, obviously not in a romantic way (Leah doesn’t allow herself that much hope, even in daydreams), but meeting her family all of the same. Meeting her father is very much obviously out of the question, for the things he did of course, but more because Leah might punch him the second she sees him for making Fatin cry all those times on the island, after dark when she thought no one else was awake. And it would be during the day, not at what Leah considers Fatin’s attempt at the most successful rager on this side of the west coast
There’s really only one logical fix for this: she needs a drink.
Briefly, Leah does wonder where the rest of Fatin’s family is, if they’re aware this party is happening, as she maneuvers past the throngs of people settled in the living room, lying on the couches and floor like it’s their own house. As suspected, the kitchen—where all the drinks are—is even worse. Leah has half a mind to tell the people who are raiding the panty to have a little self respect, but the drunk part of her brain concedes there’s probably some great snacks on the shelves.
She grabs a hard seltzer from the fridge—she should slow down anyway—and settles in one of the chairs adjacent to the ridiculously large kitchen island complete with granite countertops. At least it’s a little less crowded here, people tend to grab their drinks and keep migrating to other parts of the house. Leah looks around, trying to find if she knows anyone else here, which she spots a few kids from school who look vaguely familiar, maybe they’re in the instrumental performance concentration, but it’s hard to tell because everyone is dressed differently (thighs and midriffs on display, unbuttoned shirts revealing surprisingly toned chests and stomachs ) honestly, most of their time is spent holed up in the practices rooms anyway. The majority of the people here she doesn't know and whether they’re from the local public high schools or UC Berkeley or have some other connection to Fatin she doesn’t know about, pretty much everyone is loud, annoying, and drunk.
So is Fatin, who Leah sees parading around the backyard, but she’s also soaking wet. And wearing one of the smallest bikinis Leah’s ever seen, which is impressive because she knows Fatin’s wardrobe. Maybe she lets her eyes linger a second longer on the shadow of Fatin’s exposed hip bones than she would if she was sober. Leah looks around the kitchen and the few other people sitting near her have also stopped drinking or talking or whatever they were doing to watch Fatin walk and talk to the posse of conveniently very attractive people who are surrounding her.
Now she knows, the Jadmani’s have a pool. And apparently Fatin likes to go swimming at nearly 1 a.m, effectively shutting down all coherent thoughts in Leah’s brain. She needs to get out of there before Fatin can get to the kitchen and notice her leaning against the countertops so Leah grabs the nearest liquor bottle, dumps a truly potent amount into her can, and slips out to the living room.
But then, not less than five minutes later, when she’s inspecting a piece of artwork hanging on the wall—
“Leah”
And she turns—
Fatin looks as surprised to see her as Leah feels, standing in Fatin’s living room and holding a can filled with a liquid she wouldn’t voluntarily drink even if her life depended on it, and there’s a moment where they just look at each other. Something like recognition flashes in Fatin’s eyes and Leah tries to say something, starts to open her mouth, but then Fatin’s jaw clenches tight (and she looks at Leah like how she did on the beach, blood on her hands, menacing) and she’s turning around to the people who surround her, loudly introducing Leah to them as her ‘friend’—like they didn’t spend almost three months surviving on a deserted island together, didn’t sleep next to her almost every night, didn’t hold Leah in her arms after she ran into the ocean, like all of these people don’t already recognize her—and the small, selfish part of Leah can’t hate her, but every other part of her body does.
The crowd of people, much larger now that two members of the Unsinkable Eight are in attendance together, cheers as Fatin makes her way over to Leah. She puts an arm around Leah, who’s so surprised by the physical contact she stumbles a bit, and the crowd roars louder. Then, Fatin kisses Leah’s cheek, hard and sloppy, and Leah can feel the hot alcohol on her breath and it’s nothing like the last time Fatin had kissed her, all slow and sweet and full of timid promise, as they watched the sun set over the island, but she stands there, allows herself be guided by Fatin, the cup in her hand shaking from the rattle of the bass and bodies pounding the floor.
Fatin kisses Leah’s cheek and it burns.
And it’s only after Fatin removes her arm from around her shoulders that Leah takes her cup, throws it back and downs the entire contents in one swallow.
Fuck, it’s not fair and she realizes how desperate and needy it’ll sound if she asks why Fatin’s been ignoring her at school, how pathetic it’ll sound, especially in front of a whole crowd of people who wouldn’t give her the time of the day if she wasn’t stuck on that island. And this plan was doomed from the start anyway so Leah lets herself be pushed around, Fatin holding her wrist and tugging her along, introducing Leah to all of her new ‘friends’, and reassuring them Leah is ‘chill’ (a laugh bites and claws its way out of her throat).
The night continues and Leah can’t stand it: the polarization of Fatin’s behavior, the way she’s gone from completely ignoring Leah’s existence to showing her off like a prop, the way the others talk Fatin into rolling up hundreds and brushing them through lines of God-knows-what on the coffee table, the way Fatin looks at her, once, after she’s brushed the drugs off her nose the second time, and her eyes are hazy but looking at Leah like she remembers, like she still cares.
Leah looks away first and Fatin goes right back to being the life of the party. Or maybe she’s always been like this and Leah’s just been disillusioned this whole time.
Somewhere between getting to the house and her fourth drink, Leah stumbles away to find the bathroom. Only when she opens a door, it opens up to a bed and not a toilet, and there’s two people making out on said bed.
And one of them is Fatin.
The other is a girl, which doesn’t surprise Leah but makes her do a double take when she realizes the girl has blue eyes. Blonde hair, pulled back into space buns, but blue eyes, just like hers. There’s a hickey, too, fresh on the girl’s neck.
Yeah, she needs to get out of here.
Leah pulls Fatin off of the bed with a mild grunt and suddenly they’re face to face, standing just outside of the doorway. Fatin is staring at her, freshly-kissed and beautiful, and her life is a goddamn tragedy because Leah’s experienced this before, on an island thousands of miles away, and well, it doesn’t look like she’ll experience it again anytime soon. Maybe Fatin remembers it too or maybe she just takes pity on Leah, but she’s always been too good at reading Leah’s feelings and she offers a quiet, too-sincere, “you can join if you want, a spot in the action,” and for one blissful, magnificent second, Leah considers it. Lets herself indulge and really looks at Fatin for the first time tonight, eyes roving over Fatin’s body and noticing her sunburn hasn’t totally healed right near her temple (even after months) and the mottled skin of her left thigh, the white scar there, from the first few days on the island, too high on her leg that Leah can’t look at it without getting dizzy.
She’s drunk enough to look Fatin directly in the eyes and stupid enough to think her offer means more than it does. And Leah realizes she just wants Fatin to be fucking serious for once, so she doesn’t break Leah’s heart while she’s drunk and high and fucking laughing about it, realizes bitterly that Fatin’s first direct sentence she’s spoken to her since the bunker, since everything, was about a threesome and how fucking fitting that is and what a goddamn full circle that is, and she realizes this isn’t going to work for them, not now, not like this.
So she does what the others wanted her to do that first week when they were searching in the woods, she stops looking, and leaves.
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ateezmakemeweep · 5 years ago
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badboy!yeosang
word count: 18k
angst, fluff, smut
to this day, no one exactly knows what sparked the rivalry between the north side high school and south side high school. it seemed as if something that was just always present in the small town, with your parents and their parents and maybe even their parent's parents dealing with the tension had the two buildings been around back then.
whether it was between students personally, sports teams winning streaks, or academic scores, the two schools, centered in the same town only a few blocks away from one another, were always neck and neck. and it made socializing somewhat troublesome, always running into enemies and rivals you didn't even have a solid reason for disliking.
it was even more troublesome when brave students looked passed the silly, unknown rivalry, merging friend groups from north and south into one cohesive friend group. this isn't something you had ever done personally, sticking with the north side boys and girls you had known since elementary school.
but then one friday night party held at a friendly 'northerns' house changed everything, you and your friends walking in to see lots of unfamiliar faces.
"don't tell me she invited those scumbags," you friend bites harshly, immediately eyeing anyone and everyone she didn't recognize. 
"of course she did, she's like best friend's with all of them," your other friend scoffs, eyes roaming for the host so she can ask her what the hell she was thinking inviting this many people.
"why does it even matter?" you ask quietly. because while you've never set out to make friends with people from the other school, you also wouldn't be opposed. because until someone gives you a reason to dislike them, you're not gonna base your opinion off a group of people on some nonsensical history of hate.
"you're joking, right?" you hear your friend's high pitched voice whine, "they're literal scum. they come to our parties and try to fight everyone! they trash their school and talk back to the teachers! they're delinquents! do you know how many people get kicked out of that school a year?"
you eye the entire bottle of vodka in her hand, knowing all too well she also has a stash of weed she stole from her sister in her backpack. "delinquents, huh?"
her eyes narrow at your sarcasm, pushing your arm lightly. "okay, sorry we're all not goody too shoes like you mrs. i would never drink or smoke," she says mockingly.
you can't help the smirk that crosses your face at her bitter, snappy tone until it quickly falls when you catch a familiar pair of eyes across the room.
"oh, fuck my life..."
your older brother (but barely, you're less than a year apart for gods sake) catches your gaze and nods his head at you. you can't help but laugh internally at the irony of your friend calling the south side students delinquents when that boy right there attends your school.
because you had never met a more problematic person, always ready to pick a fight or start drama for no other reason than he just loves the thrill of it. loves the repartee back and forth before an abrupt, chaotic brawl of fists and kicks sends people into a panic.
he even loved it when you were kids, always pulling your hair and littering you in bruises that left your skin covered purple and blue more often than not; but it only got worse as he got older - luckily he had learned to spare you and other females.
it had gotten to the point where your parents almost insist you now go to every party and outing he's at, hoping that he'll curb his behavior in front of his little sister.
but no such luck because only an hour into it and you see him eyeing a group of south side boys, making his way up to them causing all of their stances to immediately stiffen. everyone has shifted into slight defense, narrowed eyes and snarled lips and a part of you watches in hopes that it'll die down.
but then you see two boys push their way forward, standing toe to toe with your brother and his friend before you stomp over.
"changbin," you growl lowly, arms folded over your chest in an attempt to look threatening. but it only causes him to laugh slightly, the boys behind you falling silent at your arrival.
"what do you want, y/n?"
"don't talk to me like that," you snap. because he's notorious for being extra snippy with you in front of his friends, like he's cool for being mean to you when you're almost always there to babysit him.
"yeah, don't talk to her like that," one of the south side boys says mockingly. you don't even bother turning around to shoot him a dirty look, grabbing changbin roughly by the arm and over to the less crowded corner.
"what is your problem?" the boy laughs out, knocking into you playfully.
"what do you think my problem is?" you ask him dully. "i know you're trying to start shit with them."
"me? start shit?" he quips sarcastically, "never."
you roll your eyes, not at all amused by him. because it's a miracle you haven't gotten hit or punched yourself from the amount of times you've broken up one of his many fights. and he doesn't even see that that's an issue.
"changbin, i'm serious!" you tell him adamently, "if i have to split up another fight-"
"okay, well, who the hell said you have to do that in the first place?" he asks, the slightest hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.
"mom and dad will get mad at both of us," you spit, "especially dad. and i don't need that." because afterall, changbin's anger and love of fighting didn't just fall out of the sky.
"whatever," he says, "just stay out of it. i'll tell them you tried, how 'bout that? so they don't get mad at their perfect little daughter."
you narrow your eyes at him, swallowing down the desire to tell him to fuck off before he cockily saunters back over to his friends. you stand there and watch him for a few seconds, the boy who mocked you peering over at you. your eyes linger on each other for a few seconds, his curious gaze roaming your face and body before a smirk plays at his lips. you rip your eyes away, escaping the loud voices and tension-filled stares in the safety of the bathroom.
you don't even know why you come to these parties anymore. you never really had fun at them, being surrounded by your drunken classmates who make out right in front of you after swearing they'd never do it again. and anytime your brother was in attendance, it added a whole new level of irritation.
because why should you watch him and keep him from being an idiot? put yourself in danger to stop his stupid, childish outbursts? you grip the sink in frustration, peering at our own reflection and wanting to laugh at how unhinged you look.
you take a few deep breaths, flushing the toilet and letting the faucet run so it at least seemed as if you were using the bathroom and not on the verge of a mental breakdown.
and thank god you did because you take three steps before you're cornered by the mysterious mocking boy with curious eyes. he blocks your path with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest as his gaze pierces down at you.
you look up at him and raise your eyebrow when he doesn't speak, just stands there and holds your eye contact.
"can i help you?" you ask, not being able to hold back the irritation that drips in your tone.
"your boyfriend's a bit of a dick, huh?"
a look of confusion crosses your face causing his head to turn ever so slightly. you haven't had a boyfriend a day in your life but you're as hell not about the to tell this strange boy that. "what are you talking about?"
his neck cranes back and nods toward changbin who you see thankfully has gone back over to his corner before looking back at you. "changbin. i think that's what you said his name was?"
a gag leaves your mouth as you shake your head frantically. "oh god, no! that's- that's my brother."
"ah, your brother," he hums, like he's genuinely fascinated by that revelation. "so what, you hang around and make sure he doesn't get in trouble?"
the condescending way in which poses the question causes your eyes to narrow, now matching his stance with folded arms and an overall cold demeanor.
"yeah because trouble always seems to start when you people come around." and even though you hadn't believed it an hour ago, there's something about this boy that's making you incredibly defensive and annoyed.
a breathy chuckle leaves his mouth as he takes a step closer to you, your eyes widening slightly when your back hits the wall. he stares down at you with a dark look in his eye, the teasing glint the only thing not making you feel nervous.
"us people?" he hums lowly, "and what kind of people is that?"
"i don't know, i hear you guys start a lot of shit," you say boldly despite being trapped, "deliquents, was the word used. and i see there might be some truth to that."
"that's funny, babe, because your brother was the one who approached us," he says calmly.
you purse your lips to the side, breaking the incessant eye contact to search for your friends. but of course, both of them are already lip-locked with their newest prospects of the night and not at all concerned about your whereabouts; which they shouldn't be, you suppose, but you could really use some assistance right now.
his throat clearing above causes you to look up at him again, pushing yourself further back into the wall.
"well, if he starts something," you say, voice changing into something unnaturally soft and sweet, "can you guys just ignore him? please?"
an amused look crosses his face, a sarcastic smile on his pretty, red lips. "oh? please?" he hums, "so you're gonna be nice, now?"
an annoyed huff leaves your mouth, reluctantly bringing your hands to this stranger's chest and pushing him back. "no, i'll be leaving you now," you say and leave you do, not once turning around to look at him as you make your way over to the other side of the room.
he watches you take a bottle of water out of the cooler before plopping down on the couch, phone in hand as you tap the screen. it lights up your face in the dimly lit room and he hates to admit that you really are pretty, a girl he'd typically seek out at a party like this and hope to end up making out with. he hums curiously before making his way back to his friends, seonghwa's eyes catching his.
"who were you talking to?"
"that loser's sister," he says quietly which causes hongjoong's head to perk up. "sister?" him and seonghwa both say at the same time; they had all really assumed you were his girlfriend.
"yup," he says, looking up to see you haven't changed positions. "she's...feisty."
"yeosang..." seonghwa says warningly, knowing all too well how the boy uses his smoldering looks and unique charm to reel girl's in.
"what," he chuckles out, meeting his friend's gaze. "i didn't do anything."
"that doesn't mean you won't," seonghwa mumbles, shaking his head at the boy.
"you know me too well, hwa," he says, patting his arm roughly before he meets changbin's glare. "you know me too well."
tense gazes and snarls only heightened throughout the night, the north side boys shouting from across the room while the south side boys just stood around quietly, plotting and preparing for a phyical fight if it was going to come down to it.
and of course, it did. you had watched it all unfold, watched your brother's friends make the first move when they got wind that a south side boy by the name of jongho started talking to one of the girls.
she was there one minute, flirting and talking friendly before the boy slightly pushed her out of the way upon seeing them charge forward, screams of profanities in one another's faces that were far too dramatic for the circumstances.
it was all just a pissing contest really, each side of boys trying to prove who was tougher and cooler when really they both just looked like fools. but you suppose you were the biggest fool, watching changbin barrel his way through the crowd and getting in the face of the black-haired boy.
"so you're the little bitch, huh?" you hear his voice bite, shooting up from your spot on the couch immediately. "i really think you guys are forgetting-"
"changbin, stop," you say lowly, going up behind him to grab the back of his shirt. but it's like you're a ghost, he doesn't even feel your presence or touch, just continues to talk shit to the boy until he draws his arm back and punches him square in the face.
"changbin!" you shout over the crowd of oohs and ahhs, onlookers with their phones out and only a few other people trying to split it up. he gets in three more punches, loud cracks while his friend's fight off the other boys and try to help you in getting your brother away from him.
"get the fuck away from me, y/n," he growls, drawing his arm back to push you backwards. his hand meets your stomach probably a bit harsher than he intended, your body stumbling back causing you to nearly fall onto the glass table.
you watch in a daze as the boy you talked to before stomps his way over to changbin, gripping him by collar and picking him off his bloody friend.
"don't touch my friend or your sister like that," he growls, tightening his hold on the boy's shirt before pushing him away from them.
"how 'bout you don't tell me what-"
"stop!" you screech, grabbing him roughly by the arm and making your way toward the front door. "just stop already, changbin!"
you throw him down in the front seat of your car before promptly locking him in, telling him you're going to get your stuff and that he better not leave the car. you run back in to the chaos, the group of south side boys huddled around the injured boy you've gathered is jongho.
you grab your bag before making your way over, kneeling down to see the boy's blooded face.
"i'm so sorry about him," you tell him quietly, wincing as you see the blood trickle down to his mouth.
"just get away from us," one of them says.
"wooyoung, she didn't-"
"no, san, this is their fault," he growls, helping jongho to his feet and dapping at his face. you can only sigh, offering one last quiet apology before making your way back outside.
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"i can't believe them, that crazy asshole," jongho snaps, eyeing himself in the mirror of hongjoong's basement apartment.
his parents had made the space for him when he started high school, first just to get him out of their hair and allow them a good night's rest away from his long nights of playing guitar or typing on his computer. but then it quickly transformed into basically housing the seven other boys, beds littered in the ample amount of rooms down there so the group of eight best friends could live together almost 24/7.
"we'll get them back," wooyoung says from the couch, leg still bouncing from the adrenaline. "they can't get away with this."
"his sister tried to apologize," san points out softly, bringing over band-aids and alcohol.
"that was just to save face," yeosang says near the open window, his lit cigarette hanging outside, "she was quick to call us out for being quote-unquote 'delinquents.'"
"oh jesus christ," hongjoong grumbles, "i mean seriously, what is their problem? we're all the same."
"he started it in the first place," mingi snaps before yunho adds, "exactly. and apparently, that kid fights everyone."
jongho hisses when seonghwa accidentally grazes the bruise on his face, all the boys heads snapping toward him with sympathy in their eyes. "well he's a little psycho who needs to be humbled," the bruised, bloody boy says.
yeosang listens to his friends conversation silently as he inhales the smoke, holding it and letting it burn as he tries to concoct a plan. because it'd be easy to get revenge on changbin himself, jump him at the next party with their fists and stomping feet the way they always do to people who deserve it.
but where's the fun in that when he has a feisty little sister who's already peeked his interest?
yeosang exhales, the smoke swirling out of the window before he puts the cigarette out in the dirt. "i have an idea," he says, the seven other boys turning their attention to the smirking boy with an all too familiar look in his eye.
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ironically enough, your part-time job at a small bakery is where you find the most solace. there's no stress from annoying teachers or piles of schoolwork like at school or fighting parents and an obnoxious brother at home.
instead, it's just the fresh smell of pastries and bread, the occasional ding of the bell welcoming in customers and the soft hum of 50s music playing through the speakers. your boss is also the owner, a tiny but incredibly sweet woman who has yet to tell you her age but you have to assume is in her early 70s.
"thank you for coming!" you chirp happily, eyeing the little girl who you slipped in an extra chocolate chip cookie for, "enjoy!"
the mother and daughter walk out, your eyes following them as the little girl eagerly clings to her mom for the dessert. you smile softly before sighing, going over to wipe off the few tables by the front window.
you hum along to elvis presley's version of hound dog, bobbing your head side to side as you wipe down tables and push in chairs. your hips begin to wiggle slightly as the guitar solo starts and unbeknownst to you, someone had been watching you from the window; you hear the familiar ding of the door opening a few seconds later.
"i'll be with you in a second," you call out, wiping down the last table before turning around; your friendly, customer-service smile falls immediately upon seeing a familiar pair of teasing, brown eyes.
"hello again," he says, looking over your uniform that is a pastel pink apron with smiling cupcakes plastered over it. "how cute."
"what- what are you doing here?" you stutter out, standing a few feet away from him. he smirks upon hearing your nervousness, taking three steps closer to you so he can properly look at you.
"isn't it obvious? i'm looking for something... sweet," he says, the smirk crossing his face as he looks at you causing your eyes to roll. this guy can not be serious.
you ignore his stupid words, pushing passed him and behind the register to take his order. "then what can i get you?"
"hmm, well i don't know," his deep voice hums, looking over the glass counter before meeting your gaze. "what do you recommend?"
you bite your tongue, figuring a yelp review of 'the girl behind the register suggested a foot up the ass' would be bad for business; so you smile through gritted teeth as you tell him the chocolate mousse cake is a customer favorite.
"but what do you like?" he asks, propping his elbow on the counter and smiling cockily at you. because he really couldn't believe his luck, that he just happened to pass your workplace the day after the party. he figured it was gonna take time, having to wait to see you next weekend or ask around at school.
"i don't like sweets," is all you say. because it's not a lie. and if you did, you certainly wouldn't work at a bakery.
"not at all?" he asks.
"not at all."
"well then what would you recommend to someone healing from a fight?" he asks, "because, you know, my friend got pretty messed up last night."
your face falls upon the mention of the boy, your heart tugging a bit because you always feel bad for the people you have to pull your brother away from. and last night wasn't the first time someone has gotten mad at you for it.
"is he okay?" you ask quietly, the soft concerned way in which you ask almost making him think you're genuine.
"he'll be fine," is all he says before that flirty, conniving look is back on his face. "so c'mon, babe, help a guy out here."
you sharply inhale so you don't start yelling at him, thinking to yourself before picking up a small white box and tray. yeosang watches you move around the bakery with ease, opening the small blue fridge before turning on a chocolate fountain.  
a few minutes later, you bring him a box with six chocolate-covered strawberries. "how's this?" you ask him, the sweet sarcasm dripping in your tone. he looks down at the fresh strawberries drizzled carefully in warm chocolate.
"now that is nice," he hums lowly.
"yeah, they're really good," you tell him, trying to act like he's any normal customer and not the boy from last night.
"oh?" he says, fumbling with the back of his jeans to grab his wallet. "i thought you didn't like sweets?"
"i don't but i like chocolate covered fruit," you mumble before telling him the price. he hands you a ten dollar bill, winking to keep the change before he turns to leave.
you almost let out a sigh of relief when he turns back around. "i don't think i ever got your name."
"that's because i didn't tell you," you snap sassily, his boyish chuckle filling the empty space.
"well, i'm yeosang," he says, walking back over to the register with his hand outstretched. you look down at it, ignoring the protruding veins and black rings adorned on his fingers, before your eyes meet again.
"that's nice."
his lips turn into a handsome smirk, licking his lips in a way that has your eyes quickly falling behind him to the people entering the store. "well, have a nice day, i hope you enjoy your-" you try to say when you meet his gaze again but he shakes his head.
"what's your name?"
"i have other customers," you mumble lowly, looking at him with wide eyes and a hot, fire growing in them.
"then i guess i'm just gonna have to call you babe," he says before his voice raises an octave. "it was nice seeing you again, babe! i hope to see you again ba-
"y/n," you snap, "my name's y/n."
"y/n," he repeats in his deep voice, letting it flow off his tongue. "that's pretty."
you narrow your eyes at him, eyeing the people behind him before he finally gets the hint. "i'll see you soon, y/n."
your eyes follow him out the door and catch his when he passes the window, smirking at you through the glass and throwing you a wink. he misses the sneer that crosses your face, letting out a sigh of relief when he's finally out of sight. you really hoping you won't be seeing him anytime soon.
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much to your dismay, yeosang came in the next three saturdays. walking in with that stupid smirk on his face, clad in a leather jacket and boots making you shake your head at him.
"what are you doing here?" you asked again, similiar to the last week you had seen him. he had smiled slyly at you, insisting that the chocolate covered strawberries were so good, he couldn't help but get another batch.
"but this time, can i have ten?" you eye him wordlessly before drizzling ten strawberries, wrapping them nicely in a box for him.
"oh no, to stay," he says, "i was hoping you could help me eat them."
"excuse me?" you mutter. because he's more absurd than you thought if you really thinks you're gonna entertain his company and-
"eat them with me."
you looked at the boy in shock, shaking your head at his commanding tone as a scoff leaves your mouth.
"i'm working."
"you don't get a break?" he asks lowly.
"had it already," you respond, bending down to arrange the desserts you've fiddled with a hundred times already today.
"then eat with me later tonight."
your head nearly smacks into the display case in shock, eyebrows furrowed together before you jump up to see him with a serious expression.
"what?"
"go on a date with me."
a strangled laugh bubbles out of your mouth as you shake your head at him in bewilderment.
"and why on earth would i do that?" you ask him, "you don't even know me."
"but i want to," he says quietly, eyes roaming over your face in a way that makes you feel incredibly nervous. "and that's typically how people do it, right?"
you can only stare at him blankly, brain racing because where the hell did this come from? you barely know the kid, quite frankly find him rather irritating, and now he's here asking you on a date?
"i-i...why?"
"you....intrigue me," he says, "you follow around your asshole brother but you're actually a nice girl. you care about people even though you pretend to be all...feisty and jaded."
"wow, you got all that in our two meetings? impressive," you quip sarcastically, feeling far too exposed at his analysis. "and it probably isn't the best idea to call someone jaded when you're trying to ask them out on a date."
his laugh echoes through the pastel bakery, his eyes peering into yours with an unreadable expression. "see," he says, "and you make me laugh. i definitely wanna go on a date with you."
your eyes search his face for any hint of mockery or joking, very wary of this boy and the way he talks to you. because parts of you are screaming to go for it, that there's obviously something pulling you towards the boy just a little bit. that he gets you worked up and sometimes unable to meet his you gaze.
but you also barely know him and see behind his handsome smirk and piercing eyes that he's someone who could easily have you under his control.
so you're about to utter a no when a loud group of kids and adults come through the door, ripping you from his gaze and causing you to swallow the nervous lump in your throat.
"leave," you whisper to him before plastering on a smile, welcoming the new customers without a second glance back at yeosang who maybe finally got the hint when he retreats to the door.
but no such luck. because the saturday after that, he came in and ordered another ten strawberries to stay.
"i'm not gonna eat them with you," you mumble before the door behind you flies open, your little boss barely visible over the counter.
"y/n have you seen the- oh, hi, young man," she says to yeosang, a small smile on her face. he waves at her, a polite smile on his face that transforms him into a boy who looks like he belongs in church or on a school's debate team.
"hello. are you y/n's boss?" you hear him ask, causing your eyes to widen.
"why yes i am," she quips with a smile, patting you on the shoulder lovingly before she looks back at him. "why? she giving you trouble?"
"not at all, she's great," he says with a chuckle. "she even recommended the chocolate covered strawberries and they're delicious. but...i was kind of hoping to share them with her."
your eyes narrow at him, silently mouthing 'stop it' when a humming leaves the little old lady's mouth. "oh really? well, i don't believe she's taken her break yet. y/n, why don't you join him?"
"i took it before," you lie, keeping your cold gaze on yeosang so you miss the way the woman next to you is already trapped under his spell. the dejected smile on his face is what does her over, insisting you take a 20-minute break and share the delicious treats with him.
"i couldn't, mrs.-"
"you can and you will," she says before bringing her mouth to your ear. "or i will and i don't think he or my husband wants that."
you press yours lips together to surpress the laugh from bubbling out of your mouth, side eyeing her with an unsure expression as she quickly takes the apron off you. "go, go," she says, "i'll be on the register."
and so that's how you end up sitting across the table from yeosang, a box of strawberries between you both as you sit there with your arms crossed.
"are you happy now?" you ask him lowly, rolling your eyes as you watch him bite into the chocolate.
"very," he says, smirking when he sees you roll your eyes. "you know, i don't think i've given you a reason to dislike me so much."
you raise your eyebrow as your lips purse to the side, swallowing down the need to become defensive.
"oh no? this is the third saturday you've harassed me at work," you say, thinking about when he came in last week asking for samples, so many samples you ran out of spoons, before he just decided on the very dessert he's chowing down on now.
"visited," he gently corrects, biting his lip to hide his smile when an exasperated look crosses your face.
"okay, then what's it gonna take you for you to stop 'visiting' me? is this all you wanted?" you ask, gesturing between you both.
"no," he says, "i still want to go on a date with you."
you put your head in your hands frustratedly, rubbing over your eyes before looking right into his. and you can just tell from that, that he's not gonna be the type to let up. that he'll keep coming in every single saturday and spending $10 on fruit and chocolate until you agree.
so it's why you let out a sigh, pluck a strawberry from the box and bite into it before you grunt out "fine."
his eyebrows raise in surprise, tongue peeking out to lick over his lip. "really?"
"yes. one date," you say with finality, "and then you stop visiting me."
"deal," he says with a smirk before his eyes fall to your mouth. you swallow nervously at his gaze, watching his hand reach out before his thumb brushes over the corner of your lip.
he looks back at you, smirk still planted on his face when he sees the look on your face. "chocolate," he mumbles, "you work friday?"
you can only find it in yourself to nod your head, "till 8," you squeak out.
he smiles at you before standing up, pushing the box toward you before winking. "see you then," he says, waving goodbye to your boss who's been trying (but failing) to not make her staring too obvious.
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you really, really hate to admit it but you were having fun. and that's saying a lot considering yeosang (and fine, maybe you too) just promptly got you guys kicked out of your date location. he had been outside your work place at 7:55, the loud tremble of his motorcycle whipping down the small street and alerting you of his arrival.
he walked in looking like the stereotypical bad boy, clad in usual leather but the singular pink rose in his hand a sharp contrast. your mouth dropped open in surprise, an awkwad giggle leaving your mouth because you hadn't expected that at all; in fact, you were half expecting him to forget all about it.
but you were really happy he didn't. you guys had a late dinner at a resturant a few blocks away, walking side-by-side in the cool night as you tell him about your shift and how long you've been working there.
he tells you that he lives with his seven friends in one of their basements, his boyish chuckle ringing in your ears over and over as he talks about them. he broke down your cold, slightly guarded exterior within the first hour and a half, now the both of you at an arcade as you try to beat each other at skee ball.
because you had been unbeatable at air hockey. at first, you both surely thought it was beginners luck but after four games, it really seemed as if it was you had a truly remarkable talent. one that he seems to have at skee ball.
"you're a cheater!" you squeal, hitting him in the arm playfully watching his ball swoop into the 10,000 points slot for the sixth time in a row.
"i'm not," he laughs out, looking down and smiling at the determination on your face as you stand in front of the board. you side-eye him before taking the ball in your hand, swinging your arm back and attempting to line it up directly with the top right side.
but just like every other time, it tips off the slot and clatters down to showcase a measly 1,000 points on the screen proudly. an annoyed groan leaves your mouth, the boy's chuckle next to you only making you look up in frustration.
"stop it," you whine. the pout on your face causes him to pop his neck nervously, a thought rushing to his mind to distract him before he quickly moves his eyes around the room.
"what're you doing?" you ask, watching his eyes roam suspiciously around the room.
"shh," he says, putting a finger to his lips before it twists into a smile. his arm wraps around your waist suddenly, causing a surprised squeal to leave your mouth when you feel your feet lift off the ground and onto the runway of the skee ball machine.
"yeosang!" you whisper-yell, like your figure standing tall in the machine isn't obvious enough.
"sh," he laughs out, placing a ball in your hand before tapping your hip. "go."
you look at him with wide eyes before they scan the room quickly, turning around and scurrying up the platform to throw the ball directly into the 10,000 point slot.
you run back with a smile, clapping your hands like you aren't the biggest cheater in this place and giggling when he plops you back down on the ground by your hips.
"there, we're even now," he says, looking at you with amusement in his light, brown eyes.
"so you were cheating!" you yelp, poking his chest lightly and feeling your heart stutter when his hand grabs it.
"no," he mumbles, "but i guess anything to keep you-"
"i saw that," a grouchy old worker tells you, her hair gray and thinning a sure sign this is the last place she wants to work. "do that again and you're out."
"sorry," you wince while yeosang begins to justify your actions. but you quickly elbow him, smiling politely at the lady before dragging him away from the skee ball machines.
"you weren't seriously gonna fight that lady," you say, voice laced with teasing and amusement.
"she interupted our date," he says lowly causing your eyes to roll as you lead him back toward the air hockey table. "it's annoying when people interrupt you when you're busy, huh? like at work, per se."
"oh shut up," he mumbles, squeezing his hand in yours that you had completely forgotten about. "because it doesn't seem like you'd mind now, hm?"
you rip your hand away quickly, mumbling "shut up" as heat rises to your cheeks. he grabs you again by the waist before you can leave, turning you in his hold to get a good look at the shy, flustered look on your face.
"look how pink you are," he says, hand grazing your cheek with a smile.
"stop it and let me go!" you squeak out, even more embarrassed as you wriggle in his hold.
"what if i don't want to?" he mumbles, words whispered as he brings his mouth to your ear. "what if i like seeing you a little flustered and blushing for me?"
you swallow down the lump that's quickly formed in your throat, giving yourself a few seconds to calm down and forget about his breath fanning over your skin before you push him away.
"then that's unfortunate for you," you snap, "now let's play."
his loud cackle booms through the noisy arcade, shaking his head before he confesses he let you win the whole time. you let out a scoff, the two of you arguing back and forth as you play which is what, you're convinced, led you to lose.
so you play four more games, all of them neck and neck until he easily scores the winning shot every single time. but the last game had really gotten to you, causing you in a fit of competetive rage to throw yourself on the table with a yelp of "no!"
he watches in amusement as your arm stretches to grab his puck, teasingly moving it back and forth in his hand as all of your internal organs slowly get crushed. you grumble pleas to "stop" and "give it to you" to which he smirks and promises he will one day.
and who comes around the corner at that moment other than the old lady from thirty minutes ago, narrowing her eyes at you guys before stomping over.
"i warned you," she spit, arms folded as she taps her foot at the both of you. "now get out."
you quickly scurry off the table and give her a small, apologetic smile. "i'm sorry, ma'am! i got too competitive! i promise it won't happen-"
"no. i said get out," she says roughly.
"but-"
"out!" she yells, her loud tone causing you to naturally jump back. you hit yeosang's hard body, his hand moving to squeeze your waist reassuringly.
"god, you're a bitch," he mumbles causing your eyes to widen.
"yeosang," you whisper.
her face twists into one of absolute rage, stomping over to you and going off about his lack of respect and asking if that's how his parents raised him.
"they told me to respect people who deserve it, not to respect people just because they're an old hag," he says, gripping your hand tightly and pulling you next to him. "you screaming in her face doesn't warrant shit."
he turns around when she starts to yell again, the both of you charging out of the arcade with a horrified look on your face.
"yeosang! i- you just called that woman an old hag! to her face!"
"and?" he says, interlacing your fingers as you scurry through the parking lot.
"that is....that was.... that was so mean!" you finally get out, covering your mouth with your hand as a shameful laugh bubbles out of it.
"oh yeah?" he quips, teasing in his tone as you stand in front of his motorcycle.  "because you're laughing right now."
"stop, i can't help it," you giggle, biting your lip so a huge smile doesn't cross your face. "i guess that makes me as bad as you, right?"
his eyes roam your face, eyes full of a light and a giant smile that almost had him forgetting why he asked you out in the first place. why he has to keep up his acts of bringing you flowers and holding your hand and whispering in your ear.
why he's gently tucking your hair behind your ear, looking at you with the softest expression he can muster on his face.
"no," he mumbles into the cold air, "you're much better than me, y/n."
there's something about the way he says it that has your eyebrows knitting together, lips pursing to the side before you open your mouth to speak. but he's quick to place his black helmet on your head, snapping the buckle under your chin before revving up his motorcycle.
you sit on the back, your arms tightly wrapped around his abdomen as the wind whips past you and thoughts swarm in your head that maybe, if given the opportunity, you wouldn't mind going on a second date with him.
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and lucky for you, many more opportunities came.
the next three weekends consist of dates with yeosang, fridays either going to new dinner spots or (disastrously) trying out rollerblading while on saturdays he came in to order his ten chocolate covered strawberries and waited around for the break you now save for his arrival.
tonight's date was at the movie theater, planning to see a horror movie despite your pleas to watch literally anything else. but yeosang was quick to snag you guys a seat in the back, guiding you in by the small of your back as he held the biggest tub of popcorn you'd ever seen.
the date started out normal, the two of you quietly chatting and laughing through the previews as your slightly greasy hands collided ever so often; he earned a small piece of popcorn being thrown at him when he commented on your butter fingers.
it was when the movie was about forty minutes in, proving to be as boring and slow as most horror movies were nowadays, that things took a turn. at first you thought nothing of it, his elbow hitting yours as he rested his arm on your armrest.
you tried to focus, keep your eyes on the screen and not turn to look at the boy you've really grown to like over this past month.
because while he was still a bit obnoxious and out of line sometimes, there was sometimes a glimmer in his soft eyes and smile that made your heart jump in your chest. and then towards the end of your days together, something else took over. a deeper, darker look that made your stomach tighten and palms sweat, his whispered words ghosting over your ear or the feel of his strong hands on your waist.
your focus wavers when you feel his hand fall to the top of your thigh, his pointer finger reaching down to graze your exposed skin ever so slightly. because you typically don't wear skirts but on your last dinner date, you had noticed yeosang's lingering gaze on your legs and you'd be lying if you said it didn't make feel happy and excited. (but, of course, if he had called you out on it, you'd insist you wore it because it was pretty and new).
you look down at it and bite your lip, turning to squint your eyes at him. but his are trained on the screen, an unreadable expression on his face like he can't feel your gaze penetrating his face.
you look back and swallow nervously, trying to ignore the feeling of his finger itching its way up your thigh slowly, almost painfully, like his skin is burning yours. he continues this for the next few minutes, dragging his finger up and down your thigh lightly before he suddenly palms it, squeezing lightly and causing you to harshly inhale.
"what-what are you doing?" you whisper to him lowly, his fingers resting on your inner thigh.
"nothing," he mumbles, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. "what are you doing?"
"i'm trying to watch this movie but you're-"
the distinct sound of someone shushing you from a few rows down causes you to stop talking, side-eyeing him but making no move to take his hand off your leg. and maybe that's cause every week, the desire's been creeping up on you. and now sitting here with him, in the dark, surrounded by a bunch of unsuspecting people, isn't exactly helping that feeling.
because would someone really notice if he-
you feel his fingers trail closer to the innermost part of your thigh, feeling a familiar searing sensation rip through your core causing you to grab his palm. at first he thinks he's fucked up, made you incredibly uncomfortable and drew a line that not even he would pass. but then he sees your heated gaze, your teeth sunken into your lip as your feet press into the floor.
"yeosang," you say warningly.
"y/n."
"what are you doing?" you repeat through your choked whisper.
"i'm bored, y/n," he whispers lowly before leaning closer to your ear. "and i've been wanting to play with this pretty pussy of yours for weeks now."
your mouth drops open at his words, a strangled laugh threatening to leave at his absurdity if the desire and clenching between your legs didn't completely overwhelm your entire being. so instead, a shaky exhale leaves your mouth as you squirm in your seat at the feel of wetness pooling.
"and you thought now would be the appropriate time?" you get out, voice strangled and clearly bothered but still with that underlying attitude it always seem to hold with him.
his breathy laugh fans over your ear, warm breath ghosting over your burning skin. "yeah," his deep voice mumbles out, "it's dark. and we're pretty spaced out." there were only a few other couples and groups in the movie theater, all of them near the front or middle.
"do you not want me to?" he asks, moving his hand out of your grasp to continue its assault on your inner thigh. "say the word and i'll take my hand away right now."
you meet his penetrative gaze, seduction and teasing in his brown eyes as a knowing smirk spreads over his lips.
it makes you absolutely hate that you can't say it, that your body is screaming to keep your mouth shut and not rob it of recieving any sort of relief. you only stare up into his cocky, teasy gaze, his tongue coming out to lick his lips when he sees the tightness in your glossy eyes.
"now let's see just how wet you are for me," he mumbles, your teeth digging into your own lip now so a tiny whine doesn't leave your mouth.
you attempt to control your ragged breathing when you feel his hand slip under your skirt, rubbing you slowly through your wet thong that causes quiet, synchronized curses to leave your mouths. him because he loves feeling just how much his touches effect you and you because his hands are finally on you.
"that's good, baby," he mumbles lowly, "you're doing really good for me. but i'm gonna need you to stay quiet, okay?"  
your head lolls to the side, looking up at him and nodding before your eyes roll back when his hand moves your underwear to the side and his finger grazes over your clit. you whisper his name but it only causes his other hand to cover your mouth, slowly moving over you faster causing you to wriggle in the seat. your quiet moan is muffled by his hand and he smiles into the darkness, speeding up his finger's pace.
"you like this, pretty girl? does that feel good?"
too embarrassed to speak, your eyes shut as you welcome the pleasure his fingers are giving you. but then, like in some sick form of punishment for not acknowledging him, he pushes his finger into your dripping opening.
his eyes immediately widen when he feels just how tight you are around it, the tiny grimace on your face at the foreign feeling causing him to rip his hand out of your skirt.
"wait-are you a virgin?" he asks, his voice one of disbelief; he hadn't even considered that.
your eyes pop open as you nod your head, your lips turned into a pout at the feeling of being empty and wet. "why-why did you do that?"
the whine in your voice causes him to smirk, looking down at your legs where your skirt is rumpled at your thighs. "i thought i hurt you," he hums, "but you still want more?"
heat rushes to your cheeks as you nod your head, feeling like every bit of pride and dignity you had was momentarily stripped from you. but the sensation between your legs and dripping down your thighs is almost too much to handle.
"do you want my fingers in you?" he asks lowly, bringing the hand that was just inside you to your lips, his thumb threatening to slip between them. "or how 'bout my mouth? something tells me you probably taste-"
a jump scare in the movie seems to bring both of you back to your surroundings, remembering you're very much still in public and surrounded by people. so when your glossy eyes meet, your own full of arousal as his remain dark and teasing, he takes your hand and out the door to his motorcycle.
you both slip into his bedroom fifteen minutes later, your hand still in his as he slams the door shut and locks it. the ache between your legs hasn't even subsided a little; if anything, it only grew more with your body straddled over his motorcyle as you clung on to his hard stomach.
so you just about die when he pushes you back on the bed and falls to his knees, exposing your wet core when he drags your underwear down your quivering legs. you crane your neck up to see him already looking at you, a sinister smile on his face just as his hand disappers under your skirt again.
"you're still wet for me, right?" he asks, his tone almost condescending but proving to make your arousal grow stronger.
you nod your head, a strangled plea to touch you falling from your lips. you feel the breath from his laugh fan onto you, your eyes shutting as his finger barely grazes over you.
"just a few more seconds, baby," he teases, "you can wait, can't you?" and even though he's getting off on the fact that you're desperate for him, face pinched into one of frustration and arousal as you wriggle underneath him, he feels himself grow hard looking at your wet pussy.
"yeosang," you whine, bucking your hips up in hopes that it'll give you some relief. any relief. just something other than the borderline painful throbbing shooting through you. because it's bad enough that you're stripped here, half naked for a boy you couldn't stand but are begging to get you off.
and he must take pity on you because of that, his small chuckle followed by the sound of your loud, abrupt moan when his tongue swipes over your slit. your head falls back onto the mattress when he licks up to your clit, lapping over it skillfully as your hands start gripping the sheets.
you hadn't felt anything like this before, his tongue licking and sucking every part of you as his own content hums and moans vibrate against you. he hears your breathing turn ragged as you choke on moans, trying to surpress the urge to scream out when he slowly slips a finger in you.
"moan for me, baby, it's okay," he assures in his deep voice, "let me hear you."
and hear you he does, high-pitched moans and a mantra of his name over and over again as he drills his two fingers into your wetnes and eats you out like a man starved. you feel yourself on the brink of coming when he suddenly stops like some sort of sadist, your head shooting up to see him taking off his own jeans and underwear. and that's when you realize just how hard he is, his veiny cock springing from his boxers as he pants pool at his feet.
"i'm sorry, baby, it was about to fall off," he laughs out, the sounds of your moans and the taste of you getting to him. "you're gonna come on my tongue, don't worry."
but before he dives back in, you place your hand on his forehead and move back on the bed, guiding him up with your hand.
"what?" he asks, eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out what you want. but being this forward causes your cheeks to warm, suddenly consumed by an unsure feeling. because you've never done anything like this before. you have no idea what you're doing and here you are-
"hey, what happened?" he asks, noticing your slight change in demeanor. his hand rests on your cheek as he slips into that soft voice that makes your heart flutter.
"i just...don't you wanna come too?" you ask quietly, eyes nervously filtering around the room.
he smiles down at you, moving his thumb over your skin as he shakes his head. "i mean, of course i do," he laughs out, "but this was about you. i wasn't gonna...expect anything from you."
but then the unanimous decision that 69 would be best case scenario won, your warnings that you've never done this before and might be awful calmed by his assurance that as long as your pussy is in his mouth and your lips are wrapped around his cock, nothing could be that awful.
you take your time learning by listening to his reactions, licking around his tip and feeling him groan against you before you take him in your mouth. you bob your head up and down, spitting down him like he suggested and then finding a motion that only seemed to spur him on above.
his tongue dove into your opening with an eagerness that had you moaning against his cock, planting yourself harder on his face as he lapped up your wetness and played with your clit.
you came with a loud moan around his cock soon after, the vibrations causing him to buck his hips further into your mouth and making you to gag. he was quick to pull you off him and lay you down, placing a kiss on your sweaty head before taking his own dick in his hand and jerking off until he released onto your stomach.
you'd probably be a little disgusted by the sight of his semen if you weren't so blissed out, eyes heavy and heart racing as you lay there in a post orgasm daze. after cleaning you and himself up, he lays down beside you and smiles seeing you in your tired state.
"how was that, baby?" he hums lowly. already exposed and vulnerable, you roll over to rest your head on his chest, mumbling something that sounds like a mix of "so good" and "amazing" into his skin.
he chuckles before pulling the blanket up and around you both, his hand running through your sweaty, slighty-knotted hair until he hears your steady, even breaths of sleep. he lays there for a few moments and allows himself this bliss. the bliss he absolutely doesn't deserve. somewhere deep inside his chest reminding him, screaming at him in guilt and horror.
he rips himself away from you and pulls on a pair of sweatpants before quietly leaving the room, being met with the disappointed faces of san and hongjoong who were mindlessly watching tv.
"hey," he says quietly, padding his way over and plopping down on the couch. it's no secret they had gotten a good idea of what just happened, hearing the muffled moans and calls of yeosang's name.
it's a few minutes of tense, slightly awkward silence until san breaks it.
"you went too far, yeosang," his friend says, shaking his head as he looks at the bedroom door.
"what're you talking about?" he asks, the sinking feeling in his heart and stomach proving he knows exactly what the boy's talking about.
yeosang watches the smoke swirl out of the window as he puts his cigarette out in the dirt. "i have an idea," he says, the seven other boys turning their attention to the smirking boy with an all too familiar look in his eye.
"oh god, i know that look," san says cautiously, "what sadistic shit did your brain just conjure up?"
"not sadistic," yeosang assures, placing his arm on the back of the couch. "rather juvenile. but i think it'd work a lot better than the alternative."
jongho's eyebrow raises, dapping at his face with antiseptic cream as he looks in the mirror. "what're you going on about?"
"i figured we have two options," he explains, going over his plan that, of course, they could go after changbin. punch and kick and fight him until his face looks ten times worse than jongho's.
but why not target someone he loves? someone that he finds himself responsible for, no matter how poorly he may treat them. someone that peeked his interest just enough for him to devise this sort of twisted plan: get to know you, date you, 'fall in love' with you just for him to end things in the name of changbin and his hatred toward him and his friends.
"you're not honestly considering this,"  san says to yeosang when he's done talking, "you can't play with someone's heart like that!  that's fucked up, even for you."
"it's perfect!" wooyoung says, ignoring san's words as he claps his hands together. "jevenile, you're right. but perfect. nothing like using someone's sister for revenge. ooooh do you know how pissed he'll be too when he finds out his own sister is dating you, of all people?"
the boys look at each other warily, parts of them thinking it'll be harmless fun while others are thinking this could quite possibly be their friend's worst idea yet.
"i'm with san, i don't like it either," hongjoong says, "she was nice to us and apologized. i dont't think she deserves to be dragged into this."
"she dragged herself in when she inserted herself into her brother's fights," wooyoung says, not being able to get passed his anger and bitterness at watching jongho getting injured. "she also probably thinks of us the same way he does."
the boys bicker back and forth about the plan, yeosang remaining silent as he toys with the  cigarette in his pocket. but hongjoong can see the boy has already made up his mind, that he's narrowed himself in on you and plans to carry out whatever else he's concocted in that brain of his.
"he's gonna do whatever he wants, guys," hongjoong says, halting the boy's voices as he looks at yeosang. "whatever we say isn't even gonna matter, is it?"
"probably not," he says with a smirk because his friend really does know him well. "besides, she was a fiesty little thing. she might end up being more trouble than she's worth."
"you said date her, not bring her to the house and fuck her," san spits angrily, not at all liking how this little plan of his is playing out.
"i didn't fuck her, she's a- she hasn't done that before."
hongjoong and san's eyes widen, the latter boy running a hand through his hair in frustration; that makes everything worse.
"yeosang..." hongjoong says warningly.
"i know what i'm doing," he snaps, "jeez, it's not that big of a deal."
"not that big of a deal?" san says, voice raising as he shakes his head. "you're using her to get back at her asshole of a brother! how is that not-"
"shut the fuck up, san," yeosang growls lowly, shooting up from the couch and over to his friend, "she's sleeping."
"maybe i should wake her up then," san says, standing up and going over to the boy, "let her know what an asshole you're being right now and tell her the truth."
"like you being a little bitch is any better," yeosang spits, "you don't even know the whole truth so stop rubbing your mouth." hongjoong sees the exact moment san considers punching him in the face, his small fists bawled before he jumps up and throws his body between the two boys.
"stop. both of you."
and because hongjoong's word is final, the two boys stare at one another before yeosang scoffs. he makes it a point to bump into san's shoulder roughly, pretending that the angry brewing in him is aimed at the boy and not himself.
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a feeling of deja vu hits you when you walk into your classmate's house and your eyes collide with yeosang, a small smile on your face as he nods his head at you.
you guys have been seeing each other for a little over two months now, texting when you can during the week and spending every friday and saturday together. it was concerning how fast you let your guard down with him and it only proved to deepen your feelings, both your emotional nd physical bond getting stronger and stronger everyday.
it's why you guys can barely keep your eyes off each other, gazes meeting and smiles spreading across your face before you nervously look away or get called out by your friend.
"why does he keep smiling at you?" your friend asks.
"yeah," the other girl goes, "you keep looking at him too! do you guys know each other?"
you can only nod your head, informing them that he sometimes comes into your bakery since it's technically not a lie, afterall. they look at him with a grimace before rolling their eyes, dragging you away so you're out of his view. "we can't have you associating with him," they said.
so you could only imagine how surprised they were when an hour later, you waltzed right up to yeosang and placed a kiss on his cheek.
"finally," he mumbles in your ear, resting his hand on your hip and squeezing it lightly. "i've been waiting for you."
"they kept ushering me away," you tell him over the blaring music, "didn't want me around a bunch of deliquents."
you suddenly hear a loud deep voice booming the words to the song, turning around to see yeosang's two large friends dropping their asses to the floor.
"a elle le gusta la gasolina!" the red-haired one sings, beer in the air shortly followed by the other's "dame mas gasolina!"
you can't help but burst out laughing, snapping your head to yeosang who watches them with a blank expression. "yeah, cause that's what are. deliquents," he says dryly.
you hadn't really gotten to know his friends very well, just exchanged polite hi's and bye's when you happen to see them when you visit their house. they all seemed nice enough, though you did find it strange that none of them could really look you in the eye. you figured it was because of changbin's antics, who you made sure to apologize again for when you saw jongho.
"they're good," you comment, giggling when the one yeosang introduced as yunho winks playfully at you.
he drags you in front of him by your hip, pushing your body back into his crotch and causing your eyes to widen. what the hell is he- "but i'm sure you're better," he hums in your ear, moving his body against yours ever so slightly and causing you to snort.
"stop it," you giggle, pushing yourself back into him harshly. "i went my whole high school career not grinding at a sleazy party and i'd like to keep it that way."
he turns you in his hold so your chests are flush against one another, his arms wrapped around your waist as you splay your fingers across his chest.
"i thought that was because you never had anyone to grind with," he mumbles in your ear, smiling into your hair when he hears you scoff.
"not technically, no.... but i probably could've if i wanted to," you whine, cheeks warming as he calls out your lack of experience.
"but you didn't," he says, voice dropped the way it always is when you're behind his closed bedroom door. "and now you have me."
you crane your neck back to look at him, eyes wide and curious as you bite your lip to hide your smile. because you suppose this is the closest you two have come to putting an official title on whatever you two have been doing. going on dates and holding hands and fumbling under his warm comforter while you swallow each other's moans.
"oh...really?" you squeak and your voice sounds so hopeful and happy that it makes his heart tug for more than one reason. but he smiles through it, pecks a kiss right onto your lips in front of everyone.
"of course, baby," he chuckles out, "what'd you think we were doing?"
"i don't know," you blush again, a shy smile making it's way on your face. "i don't know the proper procedure."
"proper procedure?" he asks, raising an eyebrow teasingly causing you to giggle into your palm and smack his chest lightly.
"stop making fun of me!"
"i'm sorry, you're just so cute," he says, reaching his hand up to pinch your cheek causing your nose to scrunch in distaste. but then his voice drops again, eyes falling to the lips as a sinister, teasing smirk crosses his face. "even when you're gagging on my cock, you're still so-"
"what. the. fuck," you hear a familiar voice behind you, jumping around with flushed cheeks and wide eyes to see changbin staring at the both of you with fire in his eyes. at yeosang's hands on your hips and your bodies pressed flush against each other.
you can only stare blankly, eyes wide and mouth agape because how the hell could you have forgotten your brother was here? and now he's so angry looking at the both of you comfortably pressed up against one another, the familiar twinge of anxiety and nervousness creeping it's way into your bones when you're around a pissed off changbin ready to fight.
"changbin, if you would just-"
"get your hands off her. now," your brother demands, jaw clenched and body advancing forward like he's about to snatch you out of yeosang's arms. but the boy's quick to turn you around, angle your body to the side to ensure no one's taking you away from him.
"i don't think i will," yeosang says cooly, evenly, like an eerie calmness before a storm.
"you're really out of your fucking mi-"
"she's my girl and brother or not, you won't tell me what to do," yeosang snaps, watching his jaw tick and face turn to one of absolute rage. "especially when you're so angry."
"your gir- y/n, you're dating him? what the fuck is wrong with you!" he screams, the people around you falling silent as they side-eye you.
"don't yell at me, changbin, it's none of your business," you snap, trying to get yourself out of yeosang's hold.
"how do you figure, little sister," he spits sarcastically, "you're making us look so stupid, don't you know that? you look like the biggest idiot."
"i suggest you shut your fucking mouth," yeosang growls, watching as changbin's harsh gaze turns from you to him.
"what, you're too big a pussy to go after me so you target my sister?" he asks. you feel yeosang's hold let go out of you and advance toward your brother who's collar is quickly grabbed again.
"what gave you the impression i'm a pussy?" he asks, tightening his hold on his shirt and turning his neck to the side. "like i won't fuck you up right now."
"then do it and see what happens, see how fast my sister leaves you," changbin snaps before smikring, "not like you really give a shit about her anyway, right?"
one of yeosang's friends, sporting soft brown eyes and a dimply smiles tries to guide you away from them when he sees you watching them in a panic. but you're quick to jump in the middle of them, pull yeosang back by the shirt who immediately releases your brother when he feels your touch.
and because you know your brother, you're quick to jump around to the middle and drag him out the door into the cold, outside air.
"what is your problem?!" you ask, voice raising and threatning to wobble. "why do you always have to start shit?"
"you can't be serious, y/n. you really can't be that fucking stupid!"
your face drops when as he yells harshly in your face, pressing your lips into one another so you don't scream or cry. but it doesn't stop your brother from shaking his head and continuing to give you a reality check. because he's a boy, a mean one at that, and it's abundantly clear to him what yeosang is doing.
"he's using you to get back at me, y/n. for punching his little coconut head friend," he says, your eyes narrowing at his petty insult. "how do you not see that?"
"you're so full of yourself, changbin," you spit, in disbelief that someone could actually have an ego this inflated. because it's bad enough your own parents make you surround your weekend with his nonsense but now he really has the balls to think he's able to have that effect on other people as well? that the only reason a boy would talk and interact and show an interest in you was because of him?
"maybe he just likes me for me. would that be so hard to believe?"
but he only rolls his eyes at your dramatics, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head at you. "whatever, y/n. just don't come crying to me when you discover i was right." he pushes passed you and disappears back into the house, the door slamming behind him and causing you to exhale shakily.
you plop down on the steps and put your head in your hands, frustrated and hurt and annoyed at him; changbin's never been there for you ever. you can't think of a time he was ever nice to you or stuck up for you, not when people used to bully you at school or when your parents on the daily yell at you for nonsense.
and now the one time you finally get a boy that likes you, he can't even do the big brother thing and be happy for you. he has to assume the worse case scenario and make everything about him.
you sit there in the cold for a few minutes, rubbing over your pounding temples and shivering when a cold breeze tickles your skin. you hear the door open behind you, moving down a step with a small apology until yeosang is crouched down below you. a small smile appears on his face upon seeing your red, cold cheeks.
"it's cold out here, babe," he mumbles, placing his warm hands on your cheeks causing your eyes to drop into your lap.
"i-i don't wanna go back in there," you tell him quietly, for some reason feeling embarrassed that changbin made those accusations about him. "i just can't believe him," you mumble, "he's such an asshole. how could he say that-"
"it's okay," he grunts out, voice tight and strained and you imagine it's because another harsh whip of wind hits you both in the face. "he doesn't matter."
you look up at him, heart and stomach fluttering when you see something twinged in his brown eyes that you've never seen before. it's an emotion you can't quite pinpoint, his eyes roaming your face as his thumbs gently start to stroke your cheeks.
"how 'bout we just go?" he says softly, "we can go back to my room and just hang out. or i can bring you home." but you're quick to shake your head, a small shy smile when you tell him you wanna stay with him.
so he pecks your cheek, interlaces your fingers and drags you over to his motorcycle. he plops his helmet on your head the way he always does, snapping it under your chin before bringing your arms around his waist.
you spend the night in his bed, feet tangled as you talk and giggle and kiss until he slips his fingers between your legs and moans ring throughout his room.
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the knot in yeosang's stomach only grew over the past two weeks, changbin's words and the way he couldn't even assure you that they weren't true eating him alive. because he'll admit it started that way, he didn't have any intention of actually coming to have feelings for you. but ever since that night, he can't stop wracking his brain over how wrong he's been. how stupid and mean and childish the idea was in the first place and that now maybe he deserves all the guilt and anxiety ridding his body.
because it didn't take him long to realize he geninely loves your company, loves the way you smile at him and laugh and chastise him when he gets a little too out of line. and if all of that didn't make it clear to him that you were the real deal for him, seeing you with tears in your eyes outside of the bakery surely did the trick.
he had come to pick you up for your friday night date when he saw you and an older man talking animately to each other, both your faces pinched in anger though yours hold the slightest hint of fear and frustration.
"because i have plans with my friend, dad!" you screech, resisting the urge to stomp your foot. and to anyone else walking by, it would look like you were a bratty teenage girl disobeying your father. "why should i have to go and babysit him? he's a 17-year-old boy!"
"really, y/n," he spats, his eyes burning into yours and you know it's taking everything in him to not put his fist through the glass window. "i give you everything you could possibly need and you can't do this one thing for me?"
you resist the urge to roll your eyes because that's always his line. throwing it in your face that he provides you with food and shelter and clothing when really, that's what he signed up for when he decided to have kids. because you work this job for your own money, never asking him for a cent and even offering to pay for your own phone bill.
"because it's not fair," you whine, "i should be able to do my own things without having to follow my older brother around. i don't understand why you even enable this be-"
"who do you think you're talking to!" he shouts, your body retracting at the sound as a squeal leaves your mouth. "you should just do the things i tell you to do."
"well why can't changbin do things you tell him! like not to get into fights like a child."
yeosang listens from across the street, his legs itching to go over and help you but thinking it might do more harm than good. but once he sees the familiar twitch of your dad's hand moving up, more shouts leaving his mouth, he's quick to rev his motorcycle.
your head snaps to the side, looking at the boy's figure covered by his black helmet and tears spring to your eyes because you just wanna be with him, far away from your dad and brother and family who do nothing but harass you.
"i don't know what's gotten into you but-"
"i left my sweatshirt inside," you suddenly snap, "and my friend's gonna be here soon. i'm not going, dad. i'm done watching over your grown son."
and with that, shoulders flinching up to your ears because there's a 50% chance you're about to get smacked, you pull open the door to the bakery and wait behind the register until you see your father stomp towards his car. you shakily exhale, grasping the counter to reign yourself in. you're happy you were able to stand up for yourself, finally tell your father just how absurd it is that he's been making you enable changbin's behavior; but that doesn't mean it had been easy.
because that was only half the battle, now you'll have to deal with more backlash from him and your mom and maybe even changbin himself if he ever decides to talk to you again.
and the thought of having to do that sends you into a nervous panic, not wanting to deal with the hostile environment and the fighting and the-
the ding of the bell rips you from your frazzled, panicked thoughts, your mouth opening to stutter out an apology that you're closed until your glossy eyes meet yeosang's. a small smile rests on his face as he makes his way up to the counter, tucking your hair behind your ear gently.
"am i still able to get chocolate-covered strawberries?" he asks, his eyes and tone teasing, "i know you're closing but have a date tonight and i really think she'd like them."
a small, half-hearted giggle leaves your mouth as you nod your head getting ready to grab a box and tray before his arm reaches out and grabs your wrist. "hey, i was kidding," he says softly with warm, brown eyes to match.
"oh," you squeak, your cheeks warming at the way he's looking at you. "sorry."
his eyes narrow at you, tongue poking out to swipe across his lip contemplatively. "c'mere," he suddenly mumbles, fingers moving in a curved motion. you raise your eyebrow but obey nonetheless, walking out from around the counter before his arms reach out and wrap around you in a hug.
you close your eyes the second your head hits his chest, letting out a sigh of relief you didn't realize you needed when his arms close around your body and he hums lowly in your ear. "what happened?"
tears prick your eyes as you think back to the encounter with your dad, swallowing the lump in your throat and basking in the familiar scent of cigarettes and cologne. his hand toys with the end strands of your hair, patiently waiting for you to answer until he hears your breathing start to labor.
"y/n?" he mumbles, pulling back to take your face in his hands. you watch his expression fall as his eyes roam over your face, the concern laced in them causing your lip to tremble.
"please don't cry," he begs, his stomach plummeting when he reaches up to wipe a stray tear that's escaped your eye.
"i'm sorry," you say, voice breaking as you shake your head. "i'm just so... frustrated."
"was that your dad?"
"yes," you grunt out, sadness and frustration quickly being replaced by anger at the mere mention of him. "he wanted me to go out with changbin and got mad when i said i had other plans. why-why should i have to do that, yeosang?" you yelp, tears still gathering but voice getting louder and more exasperated. "he's a grown man! they completely enable the behavior and then they yell at me like i'm the asshole here."
"i know," he says softly, rubbing his hand over your hair soothingly. "it's really not fa-"
"you're right, it's not fair!" you interupt in your heat of passion and venting, "because then i feel bad and now when i go back home, the house is gonna be tense and awkward and oh, my god i'm gonna-"
his lips on yours stop the words from leaving your mouth, his arm tightning around your waist as he pushes you back into the counter. you meet his kiss with fevor, parting your lips and allowing his tongue to slip in your mouth. you moan at the intrusion, bringing your hands to the back of his head and pulling on the honey blonde strands of his hair.
your mouths break apart as he rests his forehead on yours, looking into your wide, glossy eyes. "i'm sorry," he mumbles, "but you needed to-"
"shut up," you say, jumping up on the counter and pulling him back down to your lips. he chuckles into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your neck as he pulls you closer to him. desire builds between your legs the more you kiss, his tongue slipping easily into your mouth and groaning when your own meets his.
he lets it slide the first time, knowing you're in a pissed off state but when you do it three more times, he's quick to pull away. his hand follows to your throat, wrapping around it and causing your eyes to widen.
"careful, baby," he mumbles lowly, his thumb rubbing over your rapid pulse point. "i know you're troubled but remember who's in charge here, hm?"
and at that point, you're almost sure you're gonna let him fuck you on the counter you work at every weekend. but the small part of your brain not completely absorbed by desire and lust screams at you about how unsanitary that is, how you can't allow your little boss's business to succumb to a place you lose your virginity.
"can we- can we go back to your place?"
he pulls back to look at you, hand still wrapped around your neck as he sees the growing desire and fire in your eyes that match his. but he had every intention of bringing you out on a real date, to dinner and maybe another movie that wouldn't end with his hand under your skirt.
"i thought maybe we'd go to dinner or-"
"no," you whine, shaking your head as you feel your thighs clench together. "i wanna go to your house."
his eyebrow raises, trying to calm down the excitement brewing in his lower half. because after everything that's happened, he thinks this might be the worst possible thing to do.
but he's aware of his geuine feelings for you, knows since the first date ended that his stupid little plan was never gonna be a thing and that what he feels for you is real.
so that's why he does what you ask and brings you to his house, locking the door to his room and stripping you down before licking up the arousal between your legs and planting his mouth on your clit. he slides two fingers in with ease, curling them up and relishing in the way you scream out his name.
"more," you begged, hands pulling and twisting and tugging at his hair so hard he's almost sure it's about to fall out.
"you want a third?" he mumbles from between your legs, "can your tight little pussy take that?"
"no, your cock," you say and the words falling from your mouth cause his already aching dick to grow harder. because you've always been so compliant, only moans of yes or his name echoing through his room.
"baby..." he says warningly. because no matter how hard he is, he knows it's your first time. and a part of him feels like it isn't right, given the day you've had.
"yeosang, please," you beg, on the verge of tears again by how wrecked and aroused you feel. "i'm-i'm ready."
he abandons his spot between your legs to lean over you, his face over your flushed one as he stares straight into your glossy eyes. "baby, i want too. believe me, i do," he says, bringing his hand into you hair again. "but i think after everything, maybe we shouldn't- i don't wanna-"
in a lust-induced daze, you take his hand and put it between your legs letting him feel just how wet and ready you are for him. "i'm ready and i need you," you whine, moving your hips so your pussy drags against his hand. "i need you to fuck me."
he swallows down the lump in his throat, never once feeling his cock ache the way it did upon hearing you say that. his takes your jaw between his hand, squeezing ever so slightly so your faces are nearly pressed together.
"you sure?" he asks, watching your face as he slips a finger back into you. you moan out at the feeling, your legs shaking as you spread them further.
"yes," you say, repeating the words over and over until he silences you with his lips. he kisses you as he aligns himself between your legs, rubbing his tip against your slit teasingly and chuckling when you pull your lips away to whine his name.
"alright, baby, it might sting, okay?"
but you're pleasantly surprised when you don't feel much pain at all. he's slow and inches his way in further and further until your walls adjust around his length, only the first two thrusts rather uncomfortable until the third smacks you with a feeling of finally.
your moans ring out over and over, his hard length moving in and out of you causing your eyes to roll back. yeosang has to control himself from not busting right away, your tight clenching and fucked out expression nearly bringing him over the edge everytime he looked at you.
"how's that feel, baby?" he grunts out, voice deep and guttural. but you can only moan in response, moving your hips to meet his steady thrusts. "do you know how happy it makes me to know i'm the only one who's fucked you?"
his hand comes down to toy with your clit, rubbing and tweaking it gently as he continues to pound into you. "you're mine and this pussy's mine now. you know that?"
you chest heaves up and down as your breathing picks up, his words and thrusts and fingers causing the familiar tightening in your stomach to be the most intense you've ever felt. "yeosang, holyshit, holy fuck, i'm gonna-"
loud, squeaky moans leave your mouth when your first orgasm hits, followed by longer deeper ones when his thrusts becomes more sporadic, movements sloppy as he chases after his own high. his brain reminds him to pull out just before he comes, releasing on your stomach with low, deep groans.
you lay there with your eyes closed, feeling boneless as he wipes your stomach and legs before placing a kiss on your forehead. you hear him move around the room before crawling back in next to you, gently moving you until you're both under his comforter. you turn your head to look at him, eyes lazily opening as a shy, satisfied smile crosses your face.
"are you good?" he asks, "you feel okay?"
"i feel like...i wanna do that again in ten minutes," you say honestly, a blush creeping up on your face when he bursts out laughing and pulls you into him.
"i think i'll be able to make that happen, love," he says, pecking your cheek with multiple, loud kisses before trailing his lips down your neck.
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it takes you a few seconds to remember where you are when your eyes pop open the next morning, looking around at the walls and comforter before realizing you're in yeosang's bed. the very same bed you spent hours in last night, exploring every surface of each other's bodies with your mouths and hands.
you sit up and stretch your arms up with a tiny groan, feeling a bit of soreness between your legs when you start to move around the room for a pair of pants. but as you put on the t-shirt and sweatpants he left on his dresser, you know every bit of it was worth it. because he truly is a talented man, you think any of his personality faults could be made up with by the sheer power and skill his fingers have.
except, maybe, when you open the door to his bedroom and hear him and his friend seonghwa talking in the kitchen area.
"you have to tell her," seonghwa says quietly. "tell her that your feelings changed and that you regret ever even thinking like that."
" but what if- i can't even think about-"
"she has to know, yeosang," the boy says adamantly, "it wouldn't be right if you kept it from her."
your stomach drops as you listen to the boy's words, hearing yeosang sigh heavily.
"i know. but what the fuck," he says, the frustration and fear in his tone obvious. "how do i tell her something like that? i can't just be like hey, y/n, your brother was actually right, i was just using you to get back at him but now i'm-"
you can't even stop the broken "what?" from escaping your mouth as your chest caves in.
yeosang and seonghwa's heads immediately snap up to you, both of their faces falling before the blonde boy charges to you. "y/n, wait..."
your eyes sting and chest burns as you go back in the room, slamming his own door shut as you frantically start looking for your clothes.
because how fucking stupid could you have been. how could you not have seen that he'd been faking everything? was he that good of an actor? or were you really just an absolute idiot blinded by a hot guy in a leather jacket?
yeosang comes barreling in the room less than a second later, face frantic and panicked.
"y/n, you have to listen to me."
a maniac laugh falls from your lips as you shake your head frantically, taking his shirt off as you back yourself into the opposite side of his room.
"fuck you."
"baby, i know that sounded bad but you have-"
"don't call me that!" you screech, throwing his shirt across the room as you quickly slip on yours. "you're disgusting, you're so fucking disgusting, oh my god."
"y/n, i said that stupid shit the first night i met you because we were all pissed at what changbin did and i-"
"stop!" you screech, fumbling to take off his pants as you slip on your jeans, "stop talking. i-i don't wanna hear anything you have to say."
"i regret even saying that after our first date because i could tell i was really gonna like you, that i wanted-"
"shut up," you snap, getting your bag from his dresser and making your way to his bedroom door. he grabs you gently by the arm and brings you into him, disgust making its way up your throat as he holds you in his arms.
"baby, please," he begs, voice wavering and fearful, "just give me five minutes to-"
"i said don't fucking call me that!" you yell, placing your hands on his chest and forcefully pushing him back. your eyes meet his and you feel the humiliation and embarassment flood through you. because you're still so stupid and blinded, thinking there's actual hurt swirling in his eyes as he looks at you on the verge of a breakdown.
"we had sex," you blurt out, tears swarming in your eyes that start to leak down your cheeks. "i-i gave you my-" you can't even get the words out before a humorless laugh slips out of your mouth. "you fucking lied about everything, yeosang. you lied straight to my face and took me on dates and had fucking sex with me."
"i didn't lie, i never lied," he says, making his way over to you as he holds out his hands . "i like you, y/n, i like you so fucking much and i regretted saying that stupid shit the second i-"
"i never wanna see you again, do you understand me?" you say, voice breaking as you look in his eyes one last time. "don't ever talk to me again."
"y/n, please-" but you quickly turn around and make your way out the door with your head hung low, scurrying past the seven boys on the couch who are trying to act like they hadn't just heard everything.
yeosang runs out of his room the second the upstairs door slams shut, the seven pairs of eyes going from the staircase to the dishevled, broken boy standing in the doorway.
"yeosang," hongjoong says tentatively, unable to gauge if the boy's about to cry or punch a hole in the wall. but he himself isn't too sure what he's gonna do, walking over to the couch and sinking into it as his head falls into his hands.
"i fucked up," he grumbles, voice wet and wobbling, "i fucked up so bad."
"i told you," san's voice says sadly after a few moments of silence, the other boys looking at him with wide eyes because now is so not the time for i told you so. but yeosang can only look at him, watery eyes on the boy as he nods his head.
"i know you did," he says and the whole room can hear how devastated he is. how his mind is already screaming at him, fearful that it just ruined one of the best things he's ever had.
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the car ride back to your house is silent, changbin's grip on the wheel tight as he listens to you cry into your hands. he knows you both have your issues, that you fight and dislike each other more often than not, but seeing you cry is something he'll always consider to be one of his least favorite things.
"are you gonna tell me what happened, y/n?" he asks, tone surprisingly calm and even.
"no changbin," you spit, "i already told you 500 times that i don't wanna talk about it."
the car stops a few minutes later and you figure you're at a red light until you feel him put it in park. your teary eyes shoot up to look at him, lips pursing together so a loud sob doesn't leave them.
"if you don't tell me, i'm turning around and asking him myself."
and that's when you break down even further, lips trembling as ugly, horrific sobs start to leave you. he can only stare blankly for a few moments before awkwardly reaching his hand out to place it on your shoulder, shock quickly replacing his face when you harshly knock it off.
"don't touch me!" you scream, "this is your fault in the first place!"
his eyebrows furrow together at your outburst, turning his head to look at you. "what? what are you talking about?"
"you were right, okay," you say, voice considerably more weak and saddended from just seconds ago. "he-he was using me. because of what you did to his friend. and i was so fucking stupid and didn't see it and you were right all along and-"
"okay, wait, wait, slow down," he says, "what happened? how did you find this out?"
"why the hell does that matter," you squeak, "all that matters is he fucking lied to me and i never wanna see him again!"
changbin's eye remain narrowed as his brain wracks itself over a conversation, his mouth opening to speak before you beat him to it.
"can we just go home, please," you beg, "i just wanna go to sleep."
he looks over to see your face wet and eyes puffy, body and soul completely drained and in need of sleep. so he spares you for now, driving you home where you end up not leaving your room for three straight days.
by the fourth day of you missing school, telling your parents your stomach still doesn't feel right and you're gonna vomit, he's had enough.
changbin charges into your room before he leaves for school, plopping down on your bed and smacking your head with one of your many decor pillows.
"leave me alone, changbin," you whine, moving your head to bury it in your sheets.
"no," he says, crawling over your legs to sit on the other side. "you've wallowed enough. now you have to sit up so i can tell you something."
"i don't care," you dramatically whine, "i don't wanna hear anything you have to tell me."
"what if i tell you yeosang told me himself that he was using you?"
your head snaps up immediately, unwashed knotty hair a mess as you stare at him with wide eyes and an empty feeling in your chest.
"what?"
"maybe he just likes me for me. would that be so hard to believe?"
changbin can only roll his eyes at your dramatics, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head at you. "whatever, y/n. just don't come crying to me when you discover i was right." he pushes passed you and into the house, bumping into the shoulder of a familiar leather jacket.
"oops, sor-" the deep male voice says until his head snaps up. "oh."
changbin's head snaps up, eyes narrowing at the boy and resisting the urge to punch him int he face.
"yeah, oh," he says sarcastically, pushing the boy back roughly. "stay the hell away from my sister."
"what part of she's my girl didn't you understand?" the boy says back daringly, looking at him with such determination and sureness he'd respect him if they were in any other circumstances.
"you're fucking nuts, you know that?" changbin laughs out, pushing him again until he hits the back of the wall. "our issues are with each other. so why go after her, huh? are you that scared of me?"
"i'm not scared of you at all actually," yeosang snaps back, "if i was, would i straight up be telling you that was initially my plan?"
it takes a second for changbin to register what the boy actually just told him, his eyebrows furrowed together. because there was no way he just admitted to his face that he was going to-
"i was gonna do that at first, use her to get even and have you pissed off," he says, "but that plan went to shit right after our first date when i realized i would end up having feelings for her."
"wow, how romantic," changbin bites sarcastically, "is that supposed to earn you my approval, you twisted fuck?"
"no, because i'm not asking for your approval. i just want you to know my feelings for her are genuine."
changbin's eyebrow raises at his comment, the intensity in his eyes and tone telling him the kid is telling the truth.
"you know, you give her a lot of unnecessary stress with your petty bullshit and fighting. she cares about you a lot and you take advantage of that."
changbin's neck tenses up and he pops it to the side, taking a step closer to the boy as his voice drops threateningly. "you don't know anything so i suggest you-”
"i'm not trying to start shit with you," yeosang says, rolling his eyes and pushing him back slightly because this idiot totally missed the point. "but if you can't stop being an asshole for yourself, then at least do it for her. because she feels obligated to you and your parents even though she shouldn't."
and with that, changbin watches him walk past him and open the front door. he sees your figure hunched over, head in your hands as you sit out in the cold and something about that image mixed with yeosang's words causes his stomach to sink.
you remain speechless after changbin tells you about his and yeosang's conversation, teeth digging into your lip as you mull over the this new information. because parts of it make you feel a little bit better, that he was honest to you about the timeline and did truly have feelings for you.
but he still lied to you. still based your relationship off lies and negativity and made you feel so incredibly humiliate during those first few moments of finding out.
"i'm not saying what he did was right and i still don't particularly like him," changbin says, "but i think any malicious intent he had lasted for about three seconds. you seem to have the guy pretty whipped."
a humorless laugh leaves your mouth as you shake your head, pursing your lips to the side in thought. "but he still lied to me," you say quietly, "he started our whole relationship off on a lie to get stupid revenge on you."
changbin's hand comes up to pat your head like you're a little lap dop, your nose scrunching up at him in distaste before a small smile crosses his face. "it's obviously gonna be your decision, y/n, i was just saying my thoughts."
and with that, he gets up and heads toward your door. you watch him turn in the doorway, looking at you cuddled up in bed and looking so much like the little sister he used to torment. "i'm also gonna tell dad to lay off you about being my babysitter," he says teasingly, "i'm getting kind of old, right?"
"kind of?" you quip sarcastically, a smile tugging at your lips when he throws his middle finger up at you and slams your door shut. your first laugh in days bubbles out of your mouth before you roll over in bed, staring at the ceiling as you mule over everything in your head.
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the next time you see yeosang, it's the first time you ever get drunk. another party with only 'northerners' left it without incident, changbin not only friendly and cordial but also sober to keep a watchful eye on you.
which by the end of the night, was absolutely needed. because four shots and two beers would've been a decent amount for any high school girl but especially one who hadn't drank before.
and with a week to think over your situation with yeosang, it was clear drunk you had finally come to a consensus as you dial up his number; he had respected your wishes and hadn't once contacted you, a sinking feeling in you that maybe it's actually because he didn't care enough to try.
but then he answered one the first ring, a frantic "hello?" spoken into the phone that was met with your drunk, girlish giggle.
"i-i've missed your voice, wow," you stutter, the deep, gruffness something all too desirable. "what are youuu doing."
"are you drunk?" he asks, the sound of him moving in the background getting lost in your ringing ears.
"are- are you drunk?" you gasp, "oh no, how are-are you gonna get me on your coooool motorcycle bad boy yeosang."
he'd laugh at you in other circumstance but right now, he has no idea where you are or if you're in a safe space or if you're about to remember what he did and hang up on him.
"where are you? is changbin with you?"
"changbin?" you squeak, the boy snapping his head to look at you. "he's right next to me! he-he told me you guys talked, ya know. k-kind of saved your ass, if i'm being honest."
"can i talk to him?"
you hand the phone to changbin as you tiredly lean against the wall, shutting your eyes as your body starts to feel boneless and warm. you hear the sound of changbin's voice and even a strangled chuckle before he hangs up the phone, guiding you toward the corner of your room where your bag is.
"where-where are we going?"
"yeosang's gonna come pick you up. is that okay?" changbin asks softly.
"he is?" you squeal happily, "tha-that's okay. i've missed him. i-i want to see him."
"okay, good," changbin says, "because he's coming. let's go wait for him."
he guides you up the stairs and out the door carefully, holding on to your arm and trying not to laugh when you almost face-plant several times. your eyes stay trained on the street looking for a familiar black motorcycle that you miss the white car pulling up completely, yeosang getting out and walking around the hood as he races toward the house.
"hi changbin," he says, looking at the boy who gives him a nod before his eyes land on your glassy ones. "hey, you."
"oh-oh, my god, he forgot my name already," you whisper to changbin, "what an asshole!"
"i don't think he forgot your name," he assures with a smile, yeosang biting his lip to hide his own.
"i could never forget your name, y/n," he says teasingly, holding his hand out for you to grab.
you look at it with a smile before quickly taking it, intertwining your fingers and feeling your heart warm at the familiar sensation of his hand in yours. the whole time to his house, you complain that you really expected his arrival on the motorcycle.
"th-this car is fine, i guess," you say, "but a motorcycle is like sexy, you know. even though you're only a teenager. hey, are you-are you even old enough to ride a motorcycle? di-did you break the rules just so you can have a bad boy agenda?"
he snorts when he pulls up to his house, assuring you he had all the proper training and licensing to ride a motorcycle before guiding you carefully into his house. the seven boys are sprawled out on the couch, looking at your stumbling figure with a wary look but a smile nonetheless.
"i-i'm not stupid, i promise, you guys," you tell them, causing them to fall silent. "i-i think he actually likes me." only a few beats of silence pass before they burst out laughing, yeosang's cheeks warming because if anyone knows how much he likes you, it's them.
"i think you're right," mingi says, thinking back to how sulky and miserable the boy's been all week. "actually, i know you're right."
"really!" you squeal, clapping your hands together before you recongize his bright red hair. "hey! you're the one who was dancing to gasol-"
"okay, let's go, c'mon," yeosang says, ushering you into his room quickly because he knows just how fast a grind line could start if that song comes on in the presence of his friends.
he lays out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for you before he leaves to get you water, your eyes lighting up the second you see comfortable clothes and his bed. he comes back in a few minutes later to see your clothes in a ball, your body sprawled out on his bed.
"sooo comfy..." you hum, shutting your tired eyes and letting yourself melt into the warm comforter.
"y/n..." he says, placing the glass on his bedside table before sitting next to you. "i need to tell you how fucking sorry-"
"sh," you say, bringing your finger to his lips and pulling him down next to you. "we'll talk tomorrow, mmkay? i just want to sleep with you right now."
he roams over your sleepy face softly, your eyes shut and face relaxed as your head nods off side to side. you feel him place a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger before he pulls you under the covers and guides your head to his chest.
you're about to fall asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat when you hear his deep voice mutter, "i missed you, baby. i'm sorry."
the second your eyes open, there's a pain pounding in your head so severe you think you're about to die. you slowly sit up, wincing at the seering sensation that shoots through your temple before a hand carefully guides your back to sit up.
you jump at the feeling, turning your head frantically to the side before your face drops when you see yeosang. it takes a few seconds for the hazy memories to come back, all the meanwhile he's staring at you with such fear and sadness in his eyes.
because he thinks you're regretting all of this: calling him and coming home with him in the first place, giving him a second chance he probably doesn't deserve but is gonna make sure he proves worthy of. he knows that the next words you speak could potentially shatter him, make him cry and beg on the spot and completely show you just how whipped you really made him in three months.
but instead, you quietly get out "hi," and he thinks that's probably an okay start.
"how you feeling?" he asks, running his fingers through your hair.
"horrible," you blunty speak causing a small laugh to bubble out of his chest.
"you'll feel better after you eat. i'll make you something, okay?" he says gently, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek. "there's water right there."
you nod your head, gulping down the cold liquid before laying back down as he pads out of the bedroom. you don't know how long you fall back asleep for until yeosang comes back into his room, placing the plate on the bed before he gently stirs you awake.
"food, love," he mumbles lowly, causing your eyes to pop open. you let him feed you small bites of an omlette and gulp down another glass of water before you feel slightly human, curling back up into his bed in fetal position.
he rests his back on the headboard as he looks down at you, looking over your figure with such a soft, gentle look it causes your eyes to narrow. "what?"
he swallows the lump in his throat, his adams apple bobbing as he tries to gather himself.
"i'm sorry, y/n," he rushes out, "i-i've felt so shitty this past week and i don't deserve to have you hear me out but i swear to you, i swear i only had that stupid idea in my head for a second and then after our-"
"first date," you finish with closed eyes, "changbin told me about your conversation."
he's shocked and a little thrown off by the calmness in your tone, thinking and knowing he deserves to have his ass handed to him. "oh."
"i'm still mad at you," you tell him, "and you're gonna have a lot of making up to do."
"i know," he says, "believe me, i know, and i'm ready. more than ready."
"and we have to be honest from here on out about everything. like we always should've been."
he nods his head quickly, "i know, yes. i agree. i completely agree."
"okay," you say simply, wanting so bad to smile at the shocked look on his face. "then...i'll forgive you."
the look on his face causes your heart to soar, his lips pressing into one another as his eyes gloss over.
"unless you cry," you say, the teasing in your tone causing him to smile. "you're supposed to be a bad boy and bad boys don't cry."
his deep chuckle booms through his room as he shakes his head, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. "there's that bad boy, talk, again," he says, "do you remember calling me out on my, what was the phrase, bad boy agenda?"
you giggle against his chest as you nod your head, shutting your eyes contently as you snuggle against his warm chest. he tightens his hold around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head when you suddenly blurt out, "some bad boy you are, liking me after the first date," you tease playfully, "i didn't even like you until after the third."
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Text
Found Diary...
This is 100% based on a TikTok I legit just saw by yoongi.xd so full credit to them for the idea :)
R/F/N = Random Female Name R/M/N = Random Male Name
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Fluff, angst(?), lemon(not really)
Au: Non-Idol au, High School au, Gender neutral! Reader, it's 2019, Yoongi is 17
Song: Bubblegum Bitch by Marina and the Diamonds
Word Count
Warnings: swearing,
Pov: alternating
POV - Y/n's First Person
High school... I hate it. I've always hated it. I feared going into high school since I was little. The only reason why I had any bit of motivation is that I got to see my best friend Yoongi.
Min Yoongi. The introvert who can do literally anything. It's crazy. I don't know how we ended up becoming friends, but we did. He's always been a tough cookie and had a hard exterior. Though it didn't take long for me to break into it.
It apparently took less amount of time for this bitch named R/f/n. They met about two months ago, and they're already sucking faces.
Which is what's happening right now.
"Can you guys like not to do that while I'm trying to eat?" I look at Yoongi and R/f/n and they pull away.
"No." R/f/n scoffs trying to pull Yoongi back in for a... I can't even call it a kiss. "No, R/f/n, it's okay. We can continue later, Okay?" R/f/n pouts and nods her head, making me fake a gag.
"Okay, Yoongi-Baby. I should probably get going then. I love you." She stands up giving him another kiss. "I love you too, R/f/n." They wave to each other and she exits the cafeteria.
"Fucking finally. I thought that you'd be stuck there forever." My comment makes Yoongi chuckle. "Yeah, she's really touchy. It's okay though. I like her a lot." He looks down with a shy smile on his face.
"Yeah, I know you like her a lot. And I'm so happy that you've finally found someone that makes you happy." He looks up at me and I smile at him. "What do you mean? You make me happy? You're my friend." The legendary words that make any fool break.
Being friends with him is great and all but I think I would prefer to be more. "You know what I mean, Yoongi. We're friends, not lovers. She makes you happy in a romantic way." I stick my spoon in the pudding of my school lunch and stir it around before deciding that there is no way in Hell am I going to eat it.
"Thank god you're not about to eat that. I probably would've thrown up if you did." Yoongi says chuckling before drinking the chocolate milk in a cardboard box. "It's chunky." He continues after setting the milk down.
I look at the pudding and pull a face of disgust. "Yeah, it's very chunky." I throw the spoon on the tray and look over at the clock on the wall. "We have 10 minutes to get to class... Do you wanna start heading there now?" Yoongi nods and we both stand up and throw our shit away.
As we exit the Cafeteria, this stupid fucking bitch, R/m/n, throws a basketball at me. I hate guys. "Yo Yoongi! You gonna play later? Also sorry..." He stops for a moment and looks at me. "You." He then looks back at Yoongi.
"Nah, I promised Y/n that I'd help them with their homework." R/m/n nods and walks away. I completely forgot that I had asked him to help me.
"Thank fucking god it's Friday. I literally don't wanna have to deal with these fuckers for much longer." Yoongi says wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
~ After School~
"Do you really need help? It seems as if you just wanted to hang out?" Yoongi drops the notebook onto his bed and looking at me. Obviously, I lied. I look away in shame, and he chuckles. "If you wanted to hang out, you could've just asked. We're friends after all."
"But it seems as if we've been so distant." He lets out a long sigh and he rubs his eyes.
"Is this about R/f/n?" Yoongi raises his voice a little bit, making me jump.
"No, it isn't about R/f/n. I mean it kind of is bu-" Yoongi lets out a long irritated sigh.
"Why do you hate her so much? What the fuck did she do to you?" He yells at me.
"I never said I hated her!" Even though I do despise her, I would never admit that, especially to Yoongi. "What the fuck is your problem? Why are you getting so mad at me?" Suddenly, I'm angry. All I wanted was to hang out with Yoongi outside of school after what seems like the first time in months, and he's getting angry with me for no reason? Oh hell no.
"Recently all you've been doing is complaining about the fact that we're never with each other, but you're forgetting that we literally go to the same school and that we have most of the same classes! It's so fucking annoying!" I'm furious now. I stand up and start packing up my stuff with tears in my eyes.
I'm not crying because I'm sad, I'm crying because I'm angry. I run out of his room and get my shoes on at his door. "Y/n... I didn't mean to-" He calmly states as he stands at the top of the stairs.
"No. Fuck you Min Yoongi." I finally walk out of his house wanting nothing more than to lay in my bed. I want nothing more than to be at home, in my own room, with my headphones in, curled up under my blankets. I stomp down the street speedily, I turn around and see Yoongi standing outside his house.
"Yeah... fuck you Min Yoongi," I mutter looking forward again.
~
Lunchtime... It used to be my favourite subject in school because that's when I got to see Yoongi. It's been about a week since our fight. It was such a silly fight as well. I also haven't felt like eating out in public, so I haven't been buying any lunch.
Yoongi seems happy. He's been with the basketball players, their girlfriends, and R/f/n. He's acting as if nothing happened, as if he didn't freak out at me. I only have two other friends other than him, and one of them, Tara, doesn't have the same lunch as me.
"Hello~ Earth to Y/n!" Tommy says, waving his hand in front of my face. Tommy and Tara are twins, and they both happen to my two other friends. Convenient, I know. "You've been staring at Yoongi for the past ten minutes." Tommy continues before taking a big bite of his sandwich.
A sandwich that includes turkey, bologna, provolone cheese, mayo, and tofurkey. For some reason, he likes the smokey flavour of the fake meat mixed with the real meat. "Yeah, I'm aware I've been staring at him." I roll my eyes, playfully making Tommy laugh.
Tommy. Twin brother of Tara. Both are seventeen and from America. He has messy brown hair and greenish-brown eyes that look green in the right lighting, and in another lighting, looks brown. Cheap warm-tones cafeteria lighting makes his eyes the in-between colour of hazel. He has pale skin with natural red cheeks, along with freckles across his nose. He's not unattractive but he's definitely not on most people's level of beauty.
"How are you after the fight?" He says nonchalantly, peeling the crust off of part of the sandwich he's about to bite into.
"I wouldn't necessarily call it a fight. More of a 'he flipped and I didn't wanna deal with it' situation." I pick at my nails anxiously. I don't wanna talk about this. Tara knows that, but I guess she didn't tell Tommy.
"Yeah... Right." He says squinting his eyes at me to show he doesn't fully believe me. "Anyway, you wanna hang out after school? My biological dad sent a new video game if you wanna try it with me." I look at him with wide eyes, making him chuckle a little.
"Fuck yeah! What time?" He stops and thinks for a moment.
"Four-Thirty? I have theatre club after school."
I also have stuff after school to do. Not like a club, I mean I guess you can call it that, but I just go and chill out in the Library, reading a book with a group of other students. It's not a club where you have to sign up to be in, but more of a free-range. It's fun and relaxing, especially since I don't have to talk to anyone there unless the leader really wants us to, which she's an introvert and doesn't want to.
~
Alas, the school day is over. It's two-fifteen, the bell has rung indicating that we can now leave, but I head over to the library. Oh, I'm the first one here. I take a deep breath as I sit in the comfortable cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the Library. This area is very isolated, which is why we sit over here. It's quiet and away from other students who are wanting to come in here and study or something.
Though it's isolated, in the seat I am in, I have the perfect view of the door, which is open from Seven-thirty to two-fifteen, and then after, the Librarian, Mr Kim, who isn't too much older than us, closes the door but it remains unlocked.
It's now two-thirty, most of the kids that usually show up are here reading their books, there are a few new students who just wanted an escape, and-
"Ayo Yoongi pass the ball!" I look over at the door and see a dude, I recognize as R/m/n catching the brownish-red ball from a shorter boy with dark hair, I can obviously notice is Yoongi, especially since R/m/n called his name. I whine slightly as I slump into my chair. I hear the girls who are misogynistic for their boyfriend's validation giggle as they watch the guys.
Please God... don't let them see me.
Luckily they didn't, and I continue reading until I finish the book. Then I packed up my stuff and decided that it was better off that I leave early.
POV- Yoongi's First Person
"Hey, Yoongi~" R/f/b comes strutting over with her friends with a notebook in her hand. That looks like Y/n's notebook... she never let anyone touch it.
"I found Y/n's diary." She smiles mischievously.
"Let's read it!" R/m/n says, and the others agree. "But Yoongi should be the one to read it." R/f/n rolls her eyes before handing it to me.
I don't really wanna have to do this...
"Dear Diary, I will be writing all of my important accomplishments or just important things in general here. So starting with today, we have a new kid. He's really cute, I'm afraid to talk to him though."
"Boring! Skip forward!" One of R/f/n friends say. I nod and skip a few pages. October tenth two-thousand thirteen... that's when Y/n and I met.
"Today is October 10, 2013. Oh, dear Diary, I met a boy. He made my dull heart light up with joy. He's shy and kind of mean, but I think I can become his friend. I'm gonna keep trying."  Oh god... I continue reading every few pages until the most recent...
"Dear Diary... we fell apart. He yelled at me and called me annoying. I had lied to him, saying I needed help with homework, when in reality, I just wanted to be with him. I wanted to be with him outside of school, with no interruptions from his basketball friends who always push me around when he's not there, with no interruptions from his snobby girlfriend to told me to go kill myself and to stay away from him. Just him and I. But when he noticed that I didn't actually need help, he flipped. I don't know what I did wrong... maybe it was because I kept it a secret that his friends are so shitty. At least I still have Tommy and Tara. They're the only ones I need. Oh, who am I kidding? I miss him so much. I love him." My heart stops as I continue reading. I look up at the people around me who just stare at me awkwardly and apologetically.
"Did you guys really do that to them?" I take them not answering as a yes. I look down at my watch to see it only just hit four o'clock. I have to go see y/n...
I put their diary in my bag and swing it over my shoulder before running out of the library. Everything seems to have turned in slow motion. My heart is pounding My friends are yelling after me, but all I want is to see y/n. I want to see their beautiful smile again. They like me... They like me. I was so blind to notice, but now I think about it, it was so obvious. I smile while running as I think about all the moments I have had with Y/n.
I finally arrived at Y/n's house, I'm out of breath and my legs sting. I walk up to the front door...
POV- Y/n's First Person
It's currently Four twenty-five, so I should probably start heading out to Tommy and Tara's house. Just as I open the door, I am greeted by someone I really don't wanna see. Yoongi.
"Y/n..." He lets out a long sigh and a small smile. "I'm so sorry. I fucked up. I don't even know why I freaked out as I did." I just stand there. I don't know what to say to him. I miss him... I miss being with him. I open my mouth to say something, but my mouth is dry and I can't say anything. Yoongi steps closer. My heart pounds out of my chest. His hand makes contact with my hip hand and...
The world around us has stopped. Nothing else is important. Min Yoongi is standing in my doorway kissing me. His single hand on my waist, slides around to my back, pulling me closer. We can't...
I push him away. "Yoongi..." I whisper. I didn't mean for it to come out so quietly, but with how nervous I am I can't help it. I want to kiss him. I've always wanted to... but now that it's actually happening-
"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much. I'm so sorry... please I need you back in my life... I never realized your feelings for me until just recently, and because I finally realized, that made me rethink everything. I never truly liked R/f/n... I never felt the way I do when I'm with you. You make me happy." He pants, pulling me toward my living room couch. I comply and sit next to him.
"Yoongi... I really like you. I always have. But you never liked me, why has that suddenly changed?" I want to cry. I feel so overwhelmed by everything. He shrugs before placing his hand on my cheek.
"Can I kiss you again... please?" I don't even care anymore. I nod and he pulls me towards him. His soft upturned lips make contact with mine. I move his silky hands from my cheek to my waist, and I hold onto his face. Yoongi's tongue tries to enter my mouth, but I allow it. I suck on his tongue as his lips are still pressed to mine.
Knock Knock Knock Knock
We pull away quickly. He laughs at the string of spit connecting us before I stand up and go over to the door.
"Hey, Tommy."
"It's five o'clock... is everything okay?" I look at my phone and my eyes widen. Has it really been thirty minutes since Yoongi got here?
"Yeah everything's fine, I'll be over in a minute though, okay? I might need to even wait until my mom gets home so she can drive me over since it's getting dark." Tommy nods and smiles. He waves and walks away, so I quickly shut the door and walk back over to Yoongi. "My room, now," I say softly and we both run up the stairs and into my room.
It's been a while since he's been in my room. I never told her, but my mom knew I liked Yoongi and as much as she trusted him, she felt afraid that he would do something.
Yoongi tackles me onto my bed after locking my door. His hands are on either side of my head. He dips down and starts leaving small kisses up my neck to my mouth, once he reaches my mouth he just barely touches it. "Yoongi... please..." I whine and he chuckles. I tangle my fingers in his hair.
Oh god, his beautiful dark hair. People wouldn't consider his hair curly, but it has some natural texture to it. So silky and soft. So healthy... every damn thing about Yoongi is perfect. His soft lips trail from my mouth to the soft dimple on my cheek, down my neck. He lingers at my neck for a little while, allowing me to feel how perfect even his lips are. So good at kissing, I guess that watching him and R/f/n make out had to lead me to think otherwise... R/f/n.
"Wait... Yoongi." He pulls away with a hum and looks at me. His dark lust-filled eyes have now turned into precious puppy dog eyes. They're glossed over and widened, as his lips are in a pout. "What about R/f/n?" He chuckles, making me embarrassed for asking.
"I'm done with her. Don't think about her, or Tommy, or R/m/n, or Tara, or Mr. Kim, or Ms. Jung. Think about us." I nod and he leans down to kiss me again, but before he can, someone knocks on my door.
"Y/n, I'm home." My mom says on the other side of the door.
"Okay, hi mom!" I call out, Yoongi flops softly onto the space next to me and wraps his arms around me.
~
"Tommy give me my phone!" I yell as Tommy and I run around my living room. Yoongi and Tara laugh at us, and I finally grabbed my phone from him and stuff it in my pants.
"Do you really think that'll stop me?" He says reaching towards me, but stops when Yoongi lets out a cough. "Sorry, Yoongi. Didn't mean that in a creepy way." He awkwardly apologizes and we sit down on the couch. I drape the blanket over Yoongi and I, as Tommy and Tara fight over who gets to hold the popcorn.
"I thought this was gonna be a calm movie night," Yoongi whispers in my ear with a smile. I let out a soft laugh and look over at the two twins.
"At least Tara isn't threatening to shove her fist up his ass again." Just as I say that, Tara then yells she was gonna shove her fist up Tommy's ass.
"I don't want anything else than to be here with you guys," Yoongi whispers again, placing a kiss on my nose. "I love you."
"I love you more."
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loveandfictionforall · 4 years ago
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I am as fine as a daisy
Hey guys, I thought maybe you would like to read it here too :) I posted it also on fanfction.net. It is just the first chapter :) 
Humming quietly to herself, Beth was standing in the kitchen of the Gilbert house. Today was the first day after the summer break and she wanted to make sure that she got everything ready for her younger siblings. The last months were hard and she was quite often overwhelmed as she was appointed as the legal guardian of Elena and Jeremy. Stricken with grief she had to pull herself together to be able to support both of them, even though she thought she was failing throughout. 
With quick fingers, she picked the water heater up and poured the hot, steaming water in a large pot which had a filter filled with fresh and dried herbs in it. After filling the water up to the brim of the pot, she laid the water heater down and began making the best sandwiches of the whole town! Giggling she shook her head, a large smile showing some of her teeth as she praised herself. Nevertheless, she knew that the Grill made the best sandwiches but someday she would be as good as them! 
With nimble fingers Beth she put on the toast some cheese, ham, potatoes, and cucumbers. Quickly she cut them into those silly triangles and narrowly missed her fingertips.
“Oh, fuck. That was close.”, she grinned to herself and rolled her shoulders as a small sign of discomfort. She hated wounds on her fingers. They hurt more than any other wounds. Deliberately slow the young woman wrapped the sandwiches and laid them next to two thermoses. Throwing a quick look at the pot she noticed how well the tea was processed. Taking a deep breath she could smell faintly the different herbs which mixed together, shuddering slightly as she thought of the delicious taste of her own special tea. Carefully she picked the pot up, the tea swapping against the brim and running down at the outside of the pot. Annoyed with herself she rolled her eyes and turned to the thermoses to fill them. 
Just as she finished filling the thermoses she could hear a door closing upstairs before a pair of feet began running down the stairs. 
“Good morning, sister.”, greeted Elena as she leaned against the fridge while she watched with amused eyes how her big sister was scurrying around, trying to get everything together and ready to go. 
“Greetings.”, Beth replied as she turned towards her sister, her big smile like always in place. “How’s it going?”, she asked at a fast pace, her tone as always light while she wiggled her eyebrows and made Elena crack a smile.  
“It…”, the smaller girl began, then trailed off and looked on the floor, watching the bare feet of her sister tapping a rhythm she didn’t know. “I will try my best. I will be happy again and reply to everyone asking that I am better.”, she said, trying to be determined. 
“I know you will.”, pulled Beth her out of her dark thoughts. “It just takes some time.”, she added and her smile shrank a bit. A small silence began as both girls were getting lost a little in their thought. 
“Oh, by the way.”, Elena spoke up again, a small smile pulling her lips up and making her eyes sparkle a bit. “Bonnie will drive me to school.” As an answer, the brunette began nodding rapidly. 
“And Jeremy?” Hardly her words had left her mouth Beth and Elena could hear someone stomping down the stairs. With a crooked smile and his backpack just thrown on one shoulder, Jeremy walked into the kitchen and began putting his thermos and sandwiches in his open backpack. 
“I will walk.”, Jeremy casually said and walked then towards the door, just stopping to put his shoes on. “Bye.”, he gave them a small wave and disappeared.
“Well, that answers my question.”, Beth off-handly said and turned towards the pot in the sink to begin filling it with cold water. Elena looked at her with wide eyes.
“Doesn’t it bother you?”, she asked and Beth instantly knew that Elena was triggered by her casual comment. Sighing to herself and with a small roll of her eyes, she turned her head towards her sister. “Duh, of course not but what should I do, hm? I will talk with him after work.”, the woman responded with her light voice but without a smile. 
“Speaking of work,”, Beth added as she turned towards the pot again, deliberately ignoring her sister’s disapproving stare while watching the water run into the pot, “I will be home late today. Can you order some pizza before I get home? My work ends at 7.” 
Huffing Elena crossed her arms before her chest before she nodded. Without further talking, she began picking up her lunch. 
“I will go now, Bonni is probably waiting now.”, she shortly announced. Beth didn’t respond and as she heard the door fall shut, she let out a loud groan while rolling her shoulders annoyed. 
“Why did I agree to be their legal guardian?”, she asked herself, pissed off with the whole situation. “As if Elena would handle Jeremy better.”, she added bitterly.
After some deep breaths, Beth pulled herself together and put on her large smile. With fast steps, she left the house too and got into her car to drive to the cemetery. 
Just as always Beth first tended to all the graves and other patches of grass and flowers. It took her some hours to work through everything and after her break, she was finally finished. With a smile and sparkling eyes, she walked towards her very own special place in the cemetery. Here she was growing all kinds of herbs and flowers for her daily use. While she always watered her plants, she noticed how some of them were ready to be harvested. Again she began to quietly hum to herself as she kneeled down and gently pulled them out. One by one she filled the vervain herb in her small, braided basket.  She took more than enough vervain so she would be able to give some to the Council. A small annoyed huff left her mouth as she thought about the Council. She still couldn’t understand how they would only want vervain while there were other herbs just as useful as it. Pushing these thoughts away she also harvested some more plants like Basil, Angelica, Clove, and Marjoram. All of them covered the vervain. 
After she put them all in her small basket, Beth began taking a casual stroll through the graveyard while looking out for some tasks she could give herself until the end of her shift. It didn't take long until she noticed the person standing before some graves. Not recognizing him she walked towards him, set on introducing herself. 
“Hello stranger.”, she said as she was directly behind him, just mere inches before his back. Surprised by the closeness the young man quickly turned and looked with wide eyes down to the smaller woman, standing right in his personal space. With her large, bright smile and her sparkling eyes, she didn’t look like a threat. 
“Uh, hi.”, he responded uncomfortably and leaned a bit back. 
“Who are you? I don’t know you and I know everybody.”, she chirped as she stared at him without blinking. The young man before her began scratching his head. 
“I am new here. I lived here as a kid and now I am back. I am Stefan Salvatore.”, he answered her and she hummed quietly. 
“Salvatore, huh? Well, I am Elisabeth Gilbert. Nice to meet you!”, she introduced herself while she looked up and down at him, noticing the lapis lazuli ring on his finger. “Hope to see you again sometime.”, added and waved before she walked away, silently thinking to add more vervain into the food and water for her siblings and her. 
Stretching as much as she could until her bones popped, Beth let herself flop down on the couch where her sister sat with the pizza. 
“How was school?”, she asked while she pulled a pizza box onto her lap and inspected the pizza in it. It took some seconds until Elena responded.
“We have a new guy at school.”, she began and Beth gave her a wicked smile while wiggling her eyebrows. Snorting, Elena hit her sister against her arm and rolled her eyes. 
“And does he have a name?”, she asked curiously even though she had an assumption. 
“Stefan.”, Elena answered shortly and took a quick bite from her pizza to avoid talking too much about him. Beth’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ as she stared at her sister who tried to ignore it. Nodding she agreed to finish this topic and move on. 
“Oh, tomorrow there will be a bonfire.”, the younger sister added after she finished her pizza. “I think I will go.”
“Sure you do.”, replied Beth and stood up. Taking her pizza box with the last slices she turned to the stairs and began her way to Jeremy’s room. 
Gently she knocked on his door and waited until he yelled “Enter!”. 
“Hey, Jer.”, she greeted her young brother and walked to his bed where he laid, leaning against the headboard. Putting the pizza box on his bedside table, she sat down on the edge of his bed and watched him silently for some seconds. She noticed his slightly red eyes which were locked firmly on his phone while he ignored her stare. 
“Jer..”, she began but he interrupted her. 
“Don’t say anything if you want to lecture me or are trying to be a ‘sensible parent’”, he said annoyed and looked at his sister who closed her mouth again. After some awkward seconds, she sighed. 
“How about some cool material arts classes? Or some painting classes? Some self-defense classes? Just you and me.”, she suggested and ignored the sting in her heart as he rolled his eyes and scoffed. 
“Just go.”, he replied shortly and looked down on his phone again. Beth didn’t know what she should do. 
“Okay.”, she whispered, her typical smile vanished as she looked sadly at her younger brother. She felt so helpless as she couldn’t help him with his grieving. He was slipping. And that fast. 
Quietly she left his room and went into her own, undressing and taking a shot of water mixed with some vervain. Tomorrow she would deliver the vervain to Liz and repaint the threshold with water and mix it with some of her herbs.
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emocean-is-trash · 5 years ago
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hey!! i was really excited to post this oneshot for the prompt “Time Passing” today. i worked super hard on this one and i’m very proud of how it turned out.
you can also find this on my ao3 @emocean_is_trash
if you’d like to request a prompt (the list is on ao3 in chapter 1) you can send me a comment there or message me here~ :) i’ll get to your prompts as soon as i can. thanks!!
~~~~~~~
“Alright children, it’s time for recess.”
A chorus of cheers erupted from the several young children sitting in their desks as they stood up and raced towards the classroom door. One of the students in that frenzy was Yang Xiao Long, who was definitely one of the more “fearless” kids in her elementary school. She was the kind of child who would stand up for anyone, sometimes getting into fights if she had to. She always wore her heart on her sleeve and fought for what she deemed right.
But today wasn’t one of those days. The usual bullies in her school weren’t giving anyone a hard time. It was a nice change of pace. Her teacher, Ms. Glynda, led her class to the playground, opening the metal doors and letting the kids enjoy their hour of free time. Yang grinned from ear to ear and sprinted towards the jungle gym, her pigtails getting rustled from the physical activity. As soon as she reached the top of the structure, she pretended to be looking through a telephone and scanned the rest of the playground to see what everyone else was doing.
Cardin and Sky were playing tag with each other and running in the grass instead of picking on other kids. Weiss was sitting on the bench singing to herself; she never was very social. Ren and Nora were playing hide and seek, Nora stomping around the wood chips while Ren managed to hide under the slide. Jaune was crying like usual, the reasoning not important in the slightest.
But as Yang’s gaze passed over the swing-sets, she realized that there was a girl that she didn’t recognize. And she was crying! Yang immediately climbed down the jungle gym and rushed over to the dark-haired girl who was sitting on the ground next to the swing, clutching a scraped knee.
“Are you okay? Here, I have a bandaid you can use!” Yang grinned and held out the bandage for the girl to take. The girl sniffled and took it from Yang, putting it on and smiling back at her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome! I’m Yang! What’s your name? Are you new?”
“I’m Blake, I moved here from Menagerie. You talk a lot.” Blake replied bluntly and looked up at Yang.
“Yeah, that’s what my mom and dad say! It’s nice to meet you! Wanna be friends?” Yang giggled as she held out her hand for Blake to take.
“Okay.” Blake replied as she took Yang’s hand and stood up, dusting the wood chips off of her legs.
From that day forward, they were practically inseparable.
~~~~~
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Aw come on, that’s boring Blakey!” Yang hollered as she turned to look at Blake, who was braiding Yang’s hair. She was the only person who was allowed to touch it, and honestly the only person Yang wanted to touch her hair besides her dad and sister.
“You know that I’m boring, Yang.” Blake responded as she finished Yang’s hair off with two hair ties and moved to sit on Yang’s bed next to her.
“Of course you’re not boring, you’re my best friend. Oh! I have a good question. Do you have a crush on anyone at Signal?”
“Oh, well I guess that Adam kid is pretty cool.” Blake admitted as she looked out the window into Yang’s backyard and blushed slightly.
“Ohhhh, Blake has a crush! Blake has a crush!” Yang teased as she made a silly face and ran around the room.
“Stop it!” Blake shouted as she chased Yang around the room before they both fell on the floor laughing hysterically.
“What about you Yang? That guy Junior seems to like you..” Blake asked after catching her breath, turning over and looking into Yang’s eyes.
“Junior? Nah, he’s just a friend. I don’t...I don’t really like anyone.” Yang hesitated and stared up at the ceiling.
“I always know when you’re lying, silly. Who do you like?”
“Ugh fine, I’ll tell you. The truth is...I’ve never really liked boys. I think I like girls.” Yang sighed and felt her face heating up. She wasn’t sure how Blake was going to respond to this revelation. She’d known for a few months, but wasn’t sure how to bring it up to her.
“Oh really? I think that’s cool. Adam is really handsome, but Pyrrha is also very pretty.” Blake smiled at Yang and grabbed her hand, squeezing lightly.
“Ah, the transfer girl from Argus Middle School? Yeah, I guess so. Wait what did you just say?” Yang sat up and looked at Blake. She stared down at Blake’s hand and squeezed back, grinning at the dark-haired girl next to her.
“I understand Yang. We might only be 13 years old, but this is when we figure out who we are. I’ll always support you.” Blake smiled gently and wrapped Yang in a hug.
“I’ll always be here for you too.”
~~~~~
“He broke up with me.”
“Oh Blake, come here.”
Outside of Yang’s home was a teary-eyed Blake shivering in the cold. Yang pulled Blake inside and wrapped the girl in a tight hug. Blake sobbed into Yang’s shoulder for what seemed to be hours until she was finally calm enough to talk in full sentences.
“Do you want to go up to my room?”
Blake nodded. Yang grabbed Blake’s hand and took her upstairs into her room, closing the door and locking it. They sat down on Yang’s bed and continued to hold hands. Blake clearly wanted reassurance that Yang would stay.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“There..isn’t much to say. He texted me saying that he wanted a break this morning. Adam was never one for confrontation unless it really mattered, so I guess that I was never that important to him in the first place.” Blake sighed as she looked at the ground.
“Of course you're important Blake. You’re the most important person to me out of anyone. Well, you and Ruby are tied, but you know what I mean. Adam was always a piece of shit.” Yang responded by wrapping her arm around Blake’s shoulders and looking her in the eyes. She wiped away the tears on Blake’s cheeks with her thumb and smiled at her.
“Oh..thank you. Yang...I—” Blake started before pausing and cutting off her train of thought. No, this wasn’t right. They were in high school together, and they were best friends, but that’s all that they could ever be. Wishing for something more was pure stupidity.
“What is it Blakey? Do you need something from me?”
“Yang…” Blake shook her head and decided that actions were better than words in this moment. Before she could seriously think it through, Blake caressed Yang’s cheek and placed her hand on the side of Yang’s jaw, pulling her in for a kiss.
After the immediate shock of the situation wore off, Yang put her arms around Blake’s neck and kissed her back gently. Embers crackled to life in Yang’s chest, her heart beating incredibly fast and her stomach filling with butterflies. It was as if their two souls had melded into one during that raw, exposed moment. Running her hand through Blake’s hair, Yang sighed and kissed Blake again like it was the last thing she would ever do.
It was Blake. It had always been Blake. Blake was the one she was meant to be with. Adam was just some obstacle that had stood in the way of what was real.
It was after a few minutes of lapsed judgement that Yang finally pulled away, leaning her forehead against Blake’s and catching her breath.
“Blake...That was...wow.”
“Yeah.”
“I just…” Yang started, inhaling and exhaling a few times while deciding upon what needed to be said.
“Listen Blake. You’re really vulnerable right now, and I’m so sorry that I took advantage of you like that. If this is...If this is what you really want, then in three weeks, come talk to me. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Blake looked into Yang’s eyes and nodded after a minute of silence.
“Yeah. Yeah okay.”
A few minutes later, Blake left Yang’s house and Yang finally exited her bedroom, plopping onto the couch and staring out the window in solace. When she heard Ruby padding around the kitchen most likely looking for some cookies, she turned to face her with a solemn look on her face.
“You love her don’t you? You’re in love with Blake.”
“Ruby I...It’s complicated. You and Weiss were able to figure things out, and now you’re dating. Blake isn’t there yet. She might not ever get there. But yeah, I think..I think I do. Love her.”
Ruby walked over to Yang and wrapped her into a hug.
~~~~~
“Honey, I’m home!”
“Do you really have to do that every time you walk into our apartment?”
“Of course I do! What do you take me for?” Yang responded lightheartedly and walked over to her girlfriend who was standing in the doorway of their bedroom, grasping her face and giving her a swift kiss on the lips.
“You know you love me Blakey.”
“Yes, unfortunately I do.” Blake sighed sarcastically and wrapped Yang in a hug, nuzzling against her collarbone.
“I missed you.”
“Aw, I missed you too baby. Ruby and Weiss are taking extra long to decide on what movie to bring, but they should be here soon.”
“Can’t we just cancel? I wanna spend time with you.” Blake mumbled as she inhaled Yang’s calming scent of citrus and firewood.
“It’s so adorable when you’re clingy. Sorry kitten, it’s too late to cancel now. They‘re probably on their way by now.” Yang whispered as she kissed Blake on the top of the head and hugged her closer.
“I am not clingy. But can we at least cuddle during the movie?”
“Yes you are.” Yang chuckled to herself. “And of course we can snuggle, it’s one of the best things to do during a movie!”
“Oh? And what exactly is better than that?”
“Pranking Ruby and the Ice Queen of course! They fall asleep almost every time, I have so many pictures to blackmail them with.”
“I can’t believe you still call her that.”
“Watching Weiss get annoyed by something so unimportant never grows old.”
“You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, but I’m your dork.”
The doorbell rang and Ruby and Weiss walked into the apartment, interrupting their train of thought. Ruby ran straight to the living room and popped the movie into the DVD player while Weiss followed behind her, setting her things next to the coffee table.
“What’s up Rubes? Ice queen. Good to see you.”
“Hey! Stop calling me that!”
“Hi Yang! Hey Blake! I brought Nightmare Zombie Town 5!”
“Haven’t we watched this movie like twenty times?” Yang asked as she and her girlfriend moved towards the living room, still holding hands. After Yang gave Ruby her usual noogie, her and Blake sat on the couch and huddled close to each other, the two of them almost constantly inhabiting the same space.
“That’s what I told her, but Ruby insisted.” Weiss sighed as she grabbed Ruby’s hand. “She can be quite persuasive though.”
Yang purposely pretended to gag at Weiss’ admission and kissed Blake’s cheek, settling in to watch the film for the hundredth time.
“How are your classes going Weiss? Have you made any progress on your thesis?” Blake asked Weiss genuinely; she did like hearing about how her friends were doing.
“Classes are fine. My thesis is almost complete, but I need to send it to Ozpin for his approval. What about you two? How are things?” Weiss replied with the utmost sincerity she could give.
“Being an engineering major is rough!” Yang interrupted and laid her hand on Blake’s thigh.
“Yes Yang, engineering is difficult when you sleep in class every day. Anyway, literature has been really enjoyable lately. We’re writing a short story this week.” Blake continued, placing her hand on top of Yang’s. Yang scoffed at her and pretended to pout.
“That’s good to hear. Well, shall we get started?” Weiss offered as she wrapped an arm around Ruby on the floor.
“Yes finally! I’ve been looking forward to this for hours!” Ruby announced, moving closer to Weiss and grinning from ear to ear.
A few hours had passed when Blake finally spoke again, despite Yang’s goofy comments and constant touching throughout the entire movie. Ruby and Weiss had passed out on the floor together, surrounded by a pile of blankets and pillows. However, Blake and Yang were still awake, holding each other closely.
“You know, I’m so glad that you offered to help me that day when we were kids. If not, then I never would’ve met you. I never would’ve fallen for you. You’re my best friend, the one person I would dare to call my soulmate even. I’m so happy that I met you.” Blake whispered, a genuine smile on her face.
“Me too Blake. If it weren’t for you, I may have lived my whole life thinking I was happy. But now I know the truth. You make me feel at home. And that will never change.” Yang whispered in Blake’s ear, bringing her girlfriend into a slow intoxicating kiss that was completely different from every single one before then. This one screamed pure love and adoration, stronger than ever before.
Many more words could’ve been exchanged in that moment, but all that mattered was that they were here, together. Their entire lives had led up to this very moment, hearts beating as one, emotions raw and real. Yang knew that Blake would always be with her. No one needed to tell her that. Blake knew that Yang was the one all along. No one needed to tell her that either. They may not ever get to have a moment like this again, huddled close together with their true emotions revealed and their hearts bared on their chests.
They were okay with that.
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aurodontdoit · 4 years ago
Text
Sabo X Reader: Chapter 2:
The next day, Y/n woke up to the sound of her mother putting more herbs in a jar, placing yet another medicine basket together. 
"Hmmm where did I put the- oh good morning, Y/n." She warmly greeted her. 
"Morning, mum. Whatcha doin'?" Y/n chirped happily. 
"Oh just putting another basket together for Dadan. She's been needing a lot of medicine as of late. I hope everything's okay." She stated concerned. 
Y/n felt a wave of panic wash over her. "What happened when I parted ways from Sabo and Ace? Did they get hurt? " She shook her head out of it and smiled. 
"Could you deliver this basket for me? I'd ask Rhi, but they're sick today." She asked softly. 
"Absolutely." She agreed with a determined smile. 
"You're a love!" She smiled while squeezing Y/n in a hug and kissing her temple. "thank you, so much sweetheart. If you could deliver the goods before noon, that would be awesome." She smiled. Y/n nodded once again before going into her room, and putting on a pair of blue shorts, and a simple tank top, she did her hair tied back into a ponytail as she slipped her sandals on and grabbed the basket before running out to Dadans hut. 
(_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-)
Once Y/n arrived, she knocked on the door of the hut.
Y/n could hear rustling and shouting from the other side before a tall woman with long curly red hair opened the door. 
"What do you- oh hello there what can I help you with?" She asked nicely. 
The smaller girl gulped "hello miss Dadan… My name is Y/n, and I'm Keely's daughter… I was asked to bring you some medicine." She spoke. 
Dadan smiled "thank you sweetheart, tell Keely I say hi, and-"
"Whoa! is that Y/n?" Sabo asked while smiling and peeking from behind Dadan. 
Ace smiled too "hey! Y/n good to see you! You look different!" 
"Yeah she's not wearing that frilly dress her aunt makes her wear." Sabo grinned. 
Y/n blushed at this and began to feel a little insecure. 
"Oh god does Sabo think I look weird like this? Wait, what? Why do I care?" 
"She doesn't need to be bothered by you right now, little brats." Dadan barked. 
"Please do come in. Your mom has told me much about you and Rhi. It's been a while, I haven't seen her since our glory days as the mountain bandits. I guess marrying and settling down does that, huh?." She spoke sweetly to me. 
Y/n nodded, not questioning it before stepping in, and handing her the basket. 
Upon stepping inside, she saw a third boy sitting at a table, eating copious amounts of meat. 
"Oh ghhj mmvhjmmbhj!" He spoke with his mouth full. 
"Luffy! Don't talk with your mouth full!" Dadan scolded. 
Luffy swallowed his food and smiled "shishishi my bad! Hi there! I'm Monkey D. Luffy!" He smiled. 
Upon seeing the small child Y/n smiled happily 
"Hello there you precious angel bean, I will now die for you!"  
"nice to meet you, Luffy. My name is Y/n." She introduced politely with a sweet smile.
"So Y/n.. your mom tells me you're a healer and herbalist intraining is that true?" Dadan asked. 
"I sure am. I'm hoping to become a medic someday." She smiled proudly. 
Dadan chuckled "big dreams. Keep at it, kiddo. So how old are you now?" She asked. 
"I'm 12. Gonna be 13 soon." She stated before hearing the boys practically spit out their drinks. 
"You're 12!?!" Ace and Sabo stated in unison. 
"Whoa you're practically an adult." Luffy blinked. 
"Wait does that mean you're super strong like my brothers?!" Luffy asked excitedly. 
"Well-" Y/n started only to be cut off by Ace
"Hardly! She needed our help yesterday!" Ace scoffed. 
"Ease up on her Ace. They had knives, she was unarmed." Sabo justified. 
"Sabo you're a freaking saint!" 
"So? We've beaten bigger men with bigger swords! Being so weak where you need help from two 10 year olds? Pathetic!" Ace shook his head. 
"Oh you're that motherfucker." 
Before Y/n could say anything, Dadan thumped Ace across the head "be nice!" 
"Ow why the hell should I be nice?!?" 
"Because she brought medicine for you guys since you three little Fuckheads always come back injured!" 
Sabo blinked before looking at Y/n "you brought this for us?" 
Y/n blushed softly before gulping and holding the basket to him "y-yes… p-please accept this as a token of my gratitude for saving me!" She stammered nervously, holding the basket out while bowing slightly to hide her rosy cheeks. 
Sabo blinked and blushed before smiling and accepting the basket "thanks, Y/n! That's really kind of you." He chuckled. 
She looked up and blushed before smiling. 
Ace watched in annoyance "geez it's like watching a love confession." He groaned while his pinky was knuckle deep up his nose, digging for gold.
"So Y/n, would you like to stay for dinner? I invited your family too for a get together since it's been a while." Dadan asked. 
She smiled up at the lady "is that really okay? I don't wanna impose or nothin'" 
Dadan smiled softly "absolutely! You're such a sweet kid!" She then pulled the smaller girl into a bone crushing hug. 
She laughed while being hugged tightly. "Okay!" 
"Yay!!! New Nakama!!!" Luffy cheered. 
"Yeah…. Whoohoo…. " Ace groaned. 
"So in order for dinner to happen, you guys need to hunt. Got it?" 
Ace, Sabo, and Luffy smiled and nodded. 
"We're on it!" the trio cheered in unison.
"Take Y/n with you, too." Dadan requested. 
Ace sighed and frowned. 
Luffy smiled happily while cheering and proceeded to latch himself onto me. 
"What are you doing, little Monkey?" I giggled.
"Piggyback ride!" He smiled. 
"Alright but I gotta warn you… I go pretty fast!" She then proceeded to quickly Sprint outside as Luffy laughed. "WHOOOOHOOO!" he cheered. 
"You gotta admit, it's kinda nice how she brought us medicine and is getting along with Luffy." Sabo smiled with a dreamy look in his eyes. 
"Yeah I know. She's awesome." Ace stated. 
"Then why are you annoyed?" Sabo asked. 
"Because since you met her yesterday, you've been acting like a lovesick boob!" Ace defended. 
"I have not!" Sabo defended and blushed
"Oh yeah?" Ace challenged before proceeding to imitate Sabo in a mocking fashion. 
"She was so cool! Her hair was so pretty! I feel weird when she smiles! I hope I see her again! Ohhh Y/n, marry me~" Ace mocked. 
Sabo frowned while blushing "okay dude! Not cool! I never said marry me!" 
"You might as well have said that, with how obsessively you've been talking about her! And I bet you're just so excited to show off your manly hunting skills!" Ace retorted with a smirk. 
Sabo rolled his eyes "whatever bro, let's just go catch up before they get lost or worse." 
Ace nodded and shrugged while smirking "you're right… oh wait do you hear that?" Ace asked before stopping in his tracks. 
"What?" Sabo questioned also proceeding to halt his stroll.  
"Y/n and Sabo sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!" Ace sang teasingly before Sabo began stomping off. 
"What? I'm just messing with you! Isn't she like the first girl you like?" 
"Yeah and what about it?" 
"....how's it feel to have the hots for an older woman?" Ace smirked. 
Sabos' eye twitched 
"How's it feel to have no teeth?" the blonde sneered
"I dunno." Ace shrugged
"Keep talking and you'll find out, brother dearest." Sabo sneered. 
"Whoa! Easy killer! I was just playing." Ace raised his arms defensively. 
"I'm sorry… I just.. I dunno.." Sabo sighed. 
"It's fine, bro. I know you like her, and that's fine. I mean dude, you practically begged me to help you save her from those goons." He smiled. 
"I know those guys… their parents allow them to run around hurting people… I couldn't let her get-" 
"Hey guys, everything okay?" 
"Ack! Y/n, how long have you been standing there?!?" Sabo practically shrieked with shock. 
She blinked at his odd behavior before giggling "not too long. Why? Did ya' miss me?" She asked with a slight teasing tone and a smirk. 
Sabo blushed harder before stepping back "uhh n-no, I mean yes- wait why are you teasing me, and where's Luffy?" He changed the subject. 
Real smooth, Sabo.
"Here I am!" Luffy cheered before tackling Sabo with a hug. Sabo caught him. "Sabo! Y/n's amazing! She found a bunch of herbs we can use for dinner! Plus, she's super fast too!" Luffy grinned. 
I smiled and held up the herbs with a grin. "So about the hunt… what do you guys normally look for?" I ask. 
"Usually whatever is around, not really anything-" 
"We ate a huge boar once!" Luffy interrupted Ace. 
Her eyes widened "whoa! Really? That's so cool!" I smiled. 
"Shishishi! Ace and Sabo helped me kill it. They're super strong, and brave! I'm gonna be just like them when I'm 10!" Luffy smiled 
"I'm sure they are, they gotta protect such a sweet little brother. I'm sure you'll be just as strong as them." Y/n smiled. 
Ace groaned "oh brother give me a break…" 
"Sabo beat up this big tiger that attacked me!" Luffy bragged again. 
"Oh wow! That's so cool." I smiled. 
Sabo blushed. "Luffy what are you-" 
"He also took care of me when I got hurt! He shares food with me too. He's really strong and nice!" Luffy continued. 
I giggled at his eagerness to boast about his amazing brothers. 
"Well, I don't know them very well, but I can say this. They are by far the kindest boys I've met…" Y/n smiled warmly at them. 
"Aww what about me?" Luffy whined. 
"What do you mean what about you? You're first on that list, silly!" I giggled and hugged him. 
Sabo watched as Luffy hugged Y/n It was like watching a big sister hugging her precious little brother. 
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queen-of-deans-booty · 6 years ago
Text
Just You
Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester
Word Count: 1,965
Warnings: none
Summary: You and Dean won’t face the feelings you have for one another until the dam breaks and it’s flooding everything.
Squared Filled: Mutual Pining
Author’s Note: I know some of you have requested fics, and I promise I will get to them. I just need to finish these bingos before the deadline in June/July of this year. I am also trying to post daily again so bear with me. This is for @spngenrebingo and this is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.
Feedback the glue that holds my writing together
Tags at the bottom
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No matter what anyone says, not matter what they believe, you do not have a thing for Dean Winchester. Well, that’s what you made everyone believe. Truth is, you liked the guy so much that he has consumed every one of your thoughts, feelings, and actions. Everything you did, you always had him in mind when you did it.
Would Dean like this new outfit? Would Dean appreciate you taking initiative on the newest hunt? Would Dean appreciate a car wash? Would Dean like this, would Dean like that? It was getting kind of exhausting trying to please him all the time, but it’s like your body willed it. It’s as if nothing would give it more pleasure than to see Dean Winchester pleased.
It makes things harder when you tried to hide these thoughts and feelings whenever he was in the room. You liked him a lot, but he always finds some way to irritate you. The way he sticks a pen in his mouth to chew while reading, how he licks his lips right before he chugs down his beer, how tight his Henleys look late at night when it’s just the two of you. It makes things a whole lot harder around here.
It’s not like you don’t irritate him as well. He can not count how many times he wanted to jump over a table and strangle you for the things you do. Like, for instance, how you scrunch your nose up right before you sneeze, or how your tongue peeks out when you’re in deep concentration, and especially your short pajama shorts because it’s just too damn hot to wear pants. You drive him absolutely nuts.
No, he doesn’t like you, or he would never admit it to you. The only person who knew of his silly little crush is Sam and that was only because he caught him staring at you from across the room. Sam had said something crazy like how he would “take Baby on a joy ride in the desert and give her a good scratching” and Dean just said “okay” because he just wasn’t listening.
For weeks, Sam was getting sick and tired of seeing you two eye fuck each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Maybe if feelings were confessed, you two would have a wild night in the sheets and things could go back to normal. Although, after hearing what Dean gets up to in the showers early in the morning has scarred him for life. He doesn’t think he could ever come back from that.
All you could do now is just sit back and pine after the man who you have no chance with. Dating and potentially sleeping with another hunter, much less one that lives with you, is treading on dangerous waters. You don’t think you’re prepared to take a swim just yet. You might end up drowning.
The morning after a really rough hunt, Sam had been the first one to get up and go on his run. He only made coffee for two and since you were the next one to be up, you figured you could take the other cup and make some more before Dean woke up. Just as you were pouring your cup, Dean walked into the room.
“God,” he scoffed, already annoyed with you.
“What is it this time, Winchester?” you sighed.
“You took the last of the coffee!” he exclaimed as if you had just murdered someone in cold blood.
“Sorry, I’ll make another one.”
“Forget it. Too late anyway,” he scoffed once more before leaving the kitchen in a huff. He had been really short with you lately and it’s starting to get on your nerves.
“Strike one, Winchester,” you muttered to yourself as you sipped the warm beverage.
One of the things you absolutely needed to do after a hunt is take a shower. Thanks to the Men of Letters shower room, all three of you were able to take showers at the same time. Stalls separated each shower head, but the brothers refused to go in when you were in there. Something about respecting your privacy or some shit.
Whatever, it means more alone time for you. This is something you had developed over the years, stemming from when you were a kid, but you always left your towels on the floor of the bathroom when you were done with it. Don’t worry, you’d pick it up when you were done getting ready for the day. However, that first instance that you’d throw your towel on the floor is when Dean quite literally lost his mind.
He was scheduled to take a shower next, but when he spotted your towel on the floor, spoke would come out of his ears if it could. He snatched the towel up before stomping to the living room where you and Sam were watching a movie. It didn’t really bother him that a towel was on the flood since he wasn’t the most tidiest person, but the fact that it was you who put it there. Everything you do drove him crazy.
“What the hell is this?” Dean snapped.
“What are you going on about now?” you sighed, pausing the movie to look at him. Whoops, you must have forgotten to put the towel on the rack when you were done. Your mother always got mad at you for that. Something about how wet towels can grow mold or whatever. You just thought Dean didn't mind all that much.
“You left your towel on the floor, again.”
“I’m sorry, Dean. I forgot to pick it up. I’ll remember next time, okay?” you asked, giving him those big doe eyes of yours. You weren't doing it on purpose, but you stirred something in him that he needed to get out.
“Sam, a word please?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, following his big brother down the hall where they can talk in privacy.
“Strike two, Winchester,” you muttered to yourself as the brothers left.
“I am going nuts here man!”
“It’s just a towel.”
“Yeah, today it’s just a towel. But tomorrow, she could be leaving her… panties everywhere,” he sighed.
“Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”
“How I feel? Oh I feel very annoyed, maybe she might like that.”
“Dean, you know what I mean.”
“Forget it,” he shook his head, throwing the towel into the bathroom before storming off to his room. Sam really hated being in the middle of all this.
“I could really use a wingman, Sammy,” Dean grinned as he put on his jacket.
“No thanks,” he chuckled, taking a look at you. Arms crossed with the attitude, lips pouted. Dean was going out yet again to see if he could get some score for the night while you sit in with Sam doing God knows what.
“Y/N, you sure you don’t want to come?” he asked, looking at you.
“No, go have fun Dean,” you said with a tight-lipped smile.
“Okay. Don’t wait up for me!” he snickered as he left. You couldn’t believe he was actually going out and having fun with single ladies looking for a hookup. Yeah, he was single too, but he was blind if he couldn’t see what he was doing to you.
“You okay, Y/N?” Sam asked.
“Fine, why wouldn’t I be?” The room was filled with silence once more, but you couldn’t control the words that were coming out of your mouth. “I don’t understand why Dean would just go out when he has two perfectly good company right in front of him. All those women are just predators marking their territory. He’s being used, that’s what’s happening and he’s fucking blind.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t… like Dean do you?” he asked with a grin.
“Psh, you’re out of your mind if you think I’ll like a man like him. No, I bet he has fun with those sluts in tight dresses with their boobs falling out. I hope he has a great time,” you put, your tone suggesting otherwise.
“Right,” Sam smirked, minding his own business, or at least, trying to.
“Okay, I’m off for the night. I won’t be back until tomorrow morning,” Sam said as he slung his laptop bag over his shoulder.
“Have fun,” you muttered, your eyes not leaving the book in front of you.
“Don’t burn down the place,” he sighed as he left. Once the metal door closed, you looked at Dean whose focus was solely on the notebook in front of him. His pen rested on his full bottom lip. The way he clicked it against his lip got you thinking of all sorts of things. He seemed to not know what he was doing, but if he looked over at you he would see it plastered all over his face.
Yes, you had a thing for him, a serious thing, but he could never know that. Normally, you would have ignored him, but this was the going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Click. Click. Click. Click-click.
Screw this. He was doing this to you on purpose whether he realized it or not. When you got out of your chair, it scraped against the floor loudly. Dean looked up from his book as he watched you march right over to him. He thought this was going to be another fight about something stupid he was doing, but you only had one thing on your mind.
As soon as you were within touching distance from him, you slapped the pen out of his hand, grabbed his cheeks, and pulled you to him. Planting your lips firmly on his, you kissed him with every ounce of passion within you. As soon as you were going to pull away from him, he grabbed your hips and kept you there as he kissed you back.
With his hunter strength, he pulled you into his lap, fitting your legs around him. He kept you to his lips because now that he’s gotten a taste of you, he doesn’t ever want to taste anything else ever again.
Just you.
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toastscraps · 6 years ago
Text
A Kind of Symphony
An attempt at humor, but somehow got infected by angst. Inspired by @jojo56830​ ’s @linkeduniverse​. An answer to the Discord prompt, “Music.”
I also hit some of the bonuses, but not all.
- 3k+ words: Yes, I only doubled it this time.
- Sing, Sing, Sing!:  Sort of; I made up my own lyrics to a silly song, and one of the characters sings it.
- Tiptoe Through the Tulips: No.
- Lose Yourself to Dance: Not quite. I’ll just allude to it in a brief sentence. :)
Warnings: Magic, minor Bullying, gruesome masks?
Other Warnings: My take on River Zoras, a stupid made up song, made up magical item, two non-cannon invented song titles, lazy research, personal head cannons implied as fact for the sake of plot, side character OCs
Summary: Warriors isn’t like the others; but maybe that’s OK.
Characters owned by Nintendo, given life by JoJo, ruined by me.
               Hyrule’s land is one of peace and quiet, they have discovered. The big-bads have been vanquished and the Shadow has yet to taint the smaller ones. They fought some keese and zols earlier, but they were few in number and now that it is night they are lounging around the campfire enjoying themselves. Warriors is watching as Twilight and Wild play-wrestle, the others cheering on the two as one tries to knock the other out of the circle they’ve drawn in the dirt. Warriors believes Twilight will win, as he is the stronger of the two, but Legend’s money is on Wild. Why he thinks the smaller stands a chance, Warriors doesn’t know.
               “C’mon, Twilight! Push him out!” he cheers. Twilight is doing an admirable job at just that, Wild’s deer-skin boots digging small furrows in the ground as he fights to keep his position. Twilight himself is barefoot, not wanting an “unfair advantage”. Wild has yet to protest the arrangement, and Warriors suspects he is the kind to take any quarter. Wild is a survivalist, and if he can exploit a weakness, he will.
               But ultimately Twilight is stronger. Brute force and taking things down are what he is built for.
               In a move Warriors would never have calculated, Wild ducks under Twilight’s arm and twists behind him. Then with a shove he uses his mentor’s own momentum against him to push him toward the outside of the circle. The whole crowd gasps, Warriors included, but Twilight is able to stop his toes just before they leave the boundaries. Twilight gives a low, gravelly growl and whips around just as Wild moves forward to give him another push. He stands his ground, widening his stance and grabbing Wild around his waist, slinging him over his shoulder. Wild yelps and tries to find purchase anywhere where he can either free himself, or even better switch their positions. He ends up digging his fingers into Twilight’s sides. The elder Link releases him with a howl of laughter, but quickly recovers and blocks Wild’s attempt to ram him out of the ring.
               “It’s nice to see them in a friendly competition,” Four says quietly beside him, nearly scaring Warriors out of his skin. He’s never figured out how he can move so silently. “Things were getting a bit tense there for a while.”
               Twilight and Wild have been on the outs ever since Wild jumped in front of an arrow for him a week ago. Twilight has been upset that his protégé felt the need to protect him, and Wild has been miffed that Twilight was trying to make decisions for him, especially when it was his job to protect people.
               Sometime between then and arriving in Hyrule’s world they have come to an agreement, and are once again palling around like nothing has happened.
               “You’re telling me,” Legend snorts, watching on with folded arms. He is the most excited about Twilight’s almost-foul. “It’s about time those guys made up.”
               There is a sudden cheer as Twilight pins Wild to the ground, his shoulder landing outside their boundary. Warriors grins and holds his palm out to Legend, who grudgingly gives over the fifteen rupees they bet on. Warriors pockets the jewels and turns to see Twilight giving Wild a hand up. Everyone laughs and smiles and Wind jumps up on a boulder, his face glowing in the light of the fire.
               “Now I must sing a pirate cheer for the winner,” he crows.
                                 Ho! The champ has the glory,
                               Whose enemies he’s victor’d o’er,
                               Who’s beaten them sorely,
                               And scared them to the shore,
                               Who’s blown down their captain,
                               Thrown the skipper o’erboard,
                               Crimped all the crew an’
                               Then became their lord!
                 Everyone laughs and claps along with Wind’s song. Warriors joins in, being able to keep the beat as long as everyone else is, too. Wind spins around and raises his knees high, stomping and smiling the whole time. When he is done, the claps scatter and Twilight bumps shoulders with Wild teasingly. Wind sits down and Sky pulls out a lyre. That seems to be some sort of signal as Time and Legend both dig into their bags and pull out ocarinas.
               “Hyrule has a flute, too,” Four calls out. Hyrule sends him a mild glare.
               “It’s just a recorder. And Four has an ocarina,” Hyrule accuses. “Maybe he should play it.”
               “You don’t have to get out an instrument if you don’t want to,” Legend says smugly. “Just leave this to the professionals.”
               Warriors almost sighs. Now Hyrule has taken that as a challenge and is removing the not-flute from his shoulder bag. His fingers are awkward on the instrument, as if he is unfamiliar with the handling. Four still refuses to get his out.
               “No, you have fun,” he says. “I’ll listen.”
               “You guys know the Overworld March?” Time asks.
               “Ooh! I do!” Wind says, “But I don’t have my flute, so I’ll just sing!”
               “I don’t know it, but I can probably pick it out,” Sky admits. “Chords are pretty easy.”
               “I’ll sing with Wind,” Twilight offers. “And Wild can, too. He’ll help us keep a beat.”
               “I don’t…know the words,” Wild hesitates.
               “It’s not hard,” Four says quietly. “I can sing, too.”
               Their conversation continues, and Warriors relaxes and begins to drown it out. He instead concentrates on the light shining on their faces, and how happy they look to be with each other and to be making music together. He doesn’t realize Sky has been trying to get his attention until Legend nudges him.
               “What?”
               “Do you play anything?” Sky asks.
               “Oh, no. I never learned.” Warriors isn’t too sorry he’s never learned. He’s never had the time, and has always been more interested in tactics and fighting techniques. And appearances, of course.
               “Maybe you can help keep a beat,” Hyrule suggests.
               “Oh, no. I’d probably mess you up,” Warriors smiles good-naturedly. “I’ll just listen.”
               “Come on, you can at least sing. If I have to keep the rhythm, you can at least help with the words.”
               “Nah, you don’t want me singing.”
               “Oh, come on.”
               “Coward.”
               “Really?”
               “Why not?” Wind whines.
               Warriors shrugs and jokes, “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”
               Everyone is silent; the atmosphere has become tense. All Hylians have a natural tendency to be good at music, and if not with an instrument, then at least they can all sing. There isn’t much more they can say to convince him to join in.
               “…But, no one can carry a tune in a bucket. That’s impossible…”
               “It’s an idiom, Sky.”
               “You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to.” Time cradles his ocarina. Everything has gotten quiet and awkward.
               “Guys! Go ahead and play!” Warriors says, exasperated. “I enjoy just listening.”
               The others look at each other, and then Time quietly blows a couple notes into his ocarina, Legend joining in with the harmony. Sky soon picks up on the cords and Wind and Twilight are starting in with lyrics. Hyrule is playing a few notes, struggling to keep up with Time, and wincing to himself whenever he misses a cue. Wild is singing, too, and hitting a couple of stout branches against the hollow log he’s sitting on. Soon a beat rises up, and those who don’t have a wind instrument are smiling and joining in.
               Warriors doesn’t mind. He likes to watch the glow of his friends’ faces, and even though he has trouble hearing what is making Legend wince as they play, he picks up a little on the melody and the tempo and taps his foot to Wild’s rhythm. It becomes its own kind of symphony. He is sure to make his humming as quiet as possible. He doesn’t want to mess anything up.
                 Warriors is a tiny little thing, standing a half a head shorter than the rest of his class, even as a first year student. As such, he tries to make up for his stature by being as loud and obnoxious as possible. The need to be seen, to be recognized, overrides his teacher’s exasperated commands to be “quiet or you’ll be sweeping the floor tonight.” Warriors has become quite adept at using a broom.
               He has “friends,” but they are mostly amused at him, and not really friends. He takes being the butt of their jokes in stride; he doesn’t mind as long as he gets some attention. He tends to get noticed by adults more than by other kids. He’s such a cute kid, and has such beautiful blue eyes. He’s such an annoying brat, always talking loud and being disruptive in class.
               It is springtime, and the king will be riding in with his daughter, Zelda, to inspect their town. Warriors is excited, because he has heard stories about the bravery of the king in battle from his father, and his mother has told him that Princess Zelda is his age. He can’t wait to meet her.
               As is customary, the students of the school have to learn “Saluting Zelda”, Hyrule’s national anthem. The choir is made up of all the children in the class, and each class has to sing a different part. Warriors is particularly excited. 
               Their teacher has them memorize the words line by line. Warriors sets to committing it to his mind as soon as he gets his copy, running home with it to his mother and using his evenings to pour over the lyrics. He knows them better than anyone in his class.
               One day his teacher brings out a strange instrument called an accordion. She starts off with the first couple notes, telling the children to wait until the intro finishes playing before they join in. Warriors starts too early, and all the kids laugh at him. The next time she starts, he’s sure to watch from his periphery for the intake of breath the other students take before they begin.
               But somehow that goes wrong, too. The teacher tells him to behave and sing properly, or he’s getting detention. Warriors tries, he really does. He has the words down, and he doesn’t think he’s singing wrong, but somehow he finds himself sitting in the classroom after school with his head on the table, waiting for his mother to come and pick him up. He’s never cried in school before, but he’s close to it today. He feels so humiliated. He would rather not be seen by everybody, now.
               His mother takes him home, and Warriors doesn’t tell her what’s wrong. He stays in his room through supper and bed time, only emerging the next morning to go back to school. He is quieter in school that day, and ends up just letting the other children talk and laugh around him. The end of the day draws close, and he dreads what is coming.
               His teacher begins to play again, and again he waits for the children to take a breath before he starts (though he is beginning to get the timing down, now). He can now hear the melody, the notes, and the cacophony of his own voice against them. He thinks maybe, if he can adjust his voice, he can sing properly.
               It doesn’t work, and the teacher gets after him particularly harshly. Warriors bursts into tears, and yells that he’s trying, he just can’t get it to match. His teacher takes him by the shoulders, looks him in the face, and sighs.
               “It’s too bad,” she says. “Such a pretty face. I still want you standing in the front, but don’t sing. Just mouth the words.”
               And so Warriors does. He spends the rest of the practices mouthing words he’s memorized by heart, and trying to hum quietly to the tune when the others are practicing a particular detail over and over and over again. He thinks maybe if he can get it right, he can sing. But he never does, so he doesn’t.
               The day comes shining bright and glorious, as is befitting a king and his daughter. Warriors is still in the front, but it is no longer just his class. They are lined up along their main roadway and Warriors panics when he realizes his teacher isn’t carrying her accordion. One of the older students informs him that they have to wait for the sound of trumpets to start. He calms when he sees the others beginning to heave in a breath. He does so as well. Just as in practice, he mouths the words.
               The crowd roars and Warriors jumps, not expecting the sudden noise. People cheer as the knights come in first on their stallions, waving to the crowd. Warriors beams when his father rides by, careful to keep his mouth moving. His dad gives him a wink, his blue eyes sparkling and bright smile flashing, and then is gone. People start going down on their knees, and Warriors just barely remembers to do so, too, keeping his lips moving the entire time. The king comes in on a great chestnut stallion. Warriors can’t see much of him except his boots and the bottom of his red beard. A chariot follows after, and he catches a glimpse of pointed ears and corn-yellow hair between drawn lace curtains, and then it too is gone.
               It is so fast, Warriors is almost shocked out of singing (mouthing). That’s it? He isn’t going to be able to hear the king give a speech, or ask Zelda what it’s like to live in a palace? He tries not to let his disappointment show.
               Masking his feelings becomes something that Warriors grows adept at.
                 Hyrule splashes Wild as they “fish” with their hands in a calm, shallow section of the river. Somehow it has turned into a war, the two scaring more fish than they are catching. Upstream, well away from their antics, Time, Legend, and Twilight fish with actual poles. Wind is tending a fire not far away, Sky helping him smoke their catch so far. Warriors is laying in the sun, working on his tan, and Four is dozing nearby. Warriors considers joining him in dreamland.
               Their day is progressing much the same way as their night before did. It’s actually- really nice. Warriors wouldn’t mind it being like this all the time. He closes his eyes and stretches his arms back, trying to get the soft white underside that he hardly ever exposes, because it’s too vulnerable of a position. He can see the red of the sunlight, even behind his eyelids, and revels in the warmth soaking through. Birds are singing their melodies to the noon sun, and laughs and conversations drift up from the banks of the river.
               Suddenly there is an explosion, interrupting the peaceful quiet. Warriors cracks an eye open and glances downstream, expecting to see dead fish raining from the sky and Wild and Hyrule somehow in the middle of it all. What he doesn’t expect is Wild and Hyrule thrown back on the ground, not far from where Four is now jumping to his feet. What he doesn’t expect are giant creatures with decapitated reptile heads covering their faces rising from the water. He definitely doesn’t expect a hag clothed in seaweed to rise as well and push out a wave of magic with a blue aura.
               He doesn’t expect to fall asleep without any warning.
                 There are excited voices when Warriors gains consciousness. Some of them sound familiar, and more upset than happy. He blinks a couple of times, watching as scaly giants with lizard head masks come toward their… well, box. Hyrule and… Legend? … are already up, the latter spewing foul language and the former trying to negotiate with their captors and jabbing Legend in the ribs with his elbow for instigating rather than helping. One of the creatures lifts a lithe tube up to its mask and blows on the end. Something small comes out as a blur and flies through the blue barrier, hitting Legend in the neck. He falls to his knees and begins to mumble the same curses, but more quietly.
               “That was uncalled for!” Hyrule shouts. Warriors groans. He did not want to wake up to this.
               Warriors pushes himself up onto his knees and shuffles over to where Legend has already pulled the dart out of his neck and is trying to fight sleep.
               “If you don’t calm down,” the monster says from within the gruesome mask, “you’re going to get one too.” Warriors finds himself somewhat surprised that it can even talk; by the sound of it, it is a “she”.
               “Enough, Mantah,” the hag says, her features obscured by a mask of green. “We want them all awake when the Queen arrives.” Warriors doesn’t know who this “queen” is, and he doesn’t particularly want to find out. If she’s as hideous as these creatures, there’s no way he will ever want to see her.
               As they wait, Warriors sits down next to Legend, who is holding his head groggily. Hyrule is trying to wake up the others, shaking them and earning sleepy mutters of “what?” and from Sky a “five more minutes.” Several of the giants that caught them are off to the side, conversing quietly and pointing at them as if gleeful of the novelty of it all. Warriors barely catches, “Hylians! Can you believe it?” They seem quite excited about their prey. The captives are locked in a magical energy field of some kind, down in an impression in the stone. There is what appears to be a large throne carved out of the rock, larger than any of the giants present. A set of stairs leads up to its dais, a path of tile spreading out from its base. They are in a large cavern, conversations and sounds echoing and amplifying in its rotunda.
               Suddenly all other sound is drowned out by a blast of strings. They are far louder than any natural stringed instruments Warriors has ever heard, and by the time the ringing dies down, he notices that all of the water creatures have dropped to their knees. There is a procession of a dozen or so guards, similar to the ones that captured them, and then there is a group of unarmed footmen carrying a giant litter with what appears to be an enormous… sea slug, with tiny arms and legs, and wearing flowing robes.
               The others are awake by now, Time and Hyrule up by the front of the cage, glaring out at the monsters. Warriors tries to drag Legend further back (he somehow hasn’t fallen asleep again), but even in his groggy state he is able to slap Warriors’s hand away and insists that he’s, “not gonna let some demon fish intimidate” him. Warriors huffs and readjusts his hold to pull him behind Sky, who is just now getting to his feet. He ignores Legend’s struggles and sits with him on the floor next to Wind, who is blinking sleepily. Wild is also groaning; his joints popping as he stretches and rises, Twilight hovering anxiously nearby.
               “They’ve taken our weapons,” Four informs quietly, his hands twitching as he looks anxiously at the pile of sharp metal and heavy armor on the stone not far from them. Warriors feels his stomach drop. They are in more trouble than he’d originally thought. The master sword glows angrily from where she has been thrust into the pile, her indignation nearly audible as a low buzz.
               The sound is drowned out by a crier, whose face is bare of a mask. Warriors starts in surprise as he realizes that the monsters are actually Zoras, just with horrific headpieces. These merpeople aren’t nearly as friendly as the one he met due to Cia’s meddling.
               “All hail the Ruler of the Zora, her Majesty Queen Scallopa. All hail the Queen!”
               “All hail!” A myriad of voices fills the room just as the litter bearers crest the top of the stairs, straining under the weight of their burden. Warriors realizes that this must be the Queen. He has to squint and turn his head to even recognize something Zoran about her.
               A small eternity seems to pass as she is maneuvered onto her throne, and Warriors (almost) feels bad for the poor Zoras now arranging themselves to stand at attention by her sides. There is absolute silence through the hall. Then, a sudden booming voice comes from the Queen. “What have you brought me, Kelpit?”
               “Oh Queen Scallopa, may you live evermore,” the hag bows, her seaweed-covered head tilting back to reveal the sharp nose and dark eyes characteristic of the Zora. “I have brought you these fine young Hylians, to sacrifice their voices and abilities for your harp.”
               “Ah yes; Hylia’s people, who have all inherited her talent for music,” the Queen’s face shifts slightly, and Warriors realizes she is trying to tilt her head. “Very well. You cannot go wrong with them. Bring out my greatest creation; bring out the Harp of Spirits!”
               “Kelpit” seems strangely pleased with this answer, and a low rumble can be heard as a large, ornate harp is pulled in on a wooden cart. It is at least as tall as the tallest Zora there, excepting the colossal Queen, and has a dark blue color, similar to Time’s ocarina. Intricate gold swirls decorate it, and even Warriors, unskilled as he is in the ways of magic, can practically smell the stench of it coming off of the instrument. Hyrule’s nose is wrinkled, and he’s looking at the thing in apprehension, palms pressed on the blue barrier.
               The plain hero yelps as the surface below his hands is lost. He falls forward rapidly, Time reaching out as if to grab him and keep him from face planting, but his hand is blocked by a blue shield replacing the one that was lost. Instead, Hyrule is left trapped in a bubble of the blue stuff, where he is brought closer to the hag. The harp is finally pulled to rest in front of their enclosure, more Zoras carefully lifting it from its rolling platform and setting it down into a groove cut in the floor. The bubble around Hyrule coalesces to form a set of cuffs at his wrists, forcing his arms behind his back and trapping them there. He is shoved to his knees before the harp, and the witch raises her hand.
               “He has a flute in his belongings,” Mantah says, and Warriors barely hears Hyrule correct her:
               “It’s a recorder.”
               The witch grabs Hyrule’s face and examines it closely. Warriors thinks he hears Wild growl to his left, but he can’t be certain. Mantah hands the witch the recorder at her request. She releases her grip on the teen’s face, and the wind instrument lights up with a blue glow, which connects via a faint string of light to Hyrule’s fingertips. Their light is even duller.
               “No, he is not skilled enough with it. I will not sully the harp with his greenness. His voice will have to do.”
               Hyrule’s mouth opens without his control, and the harp begins vibrating. His eyes widen and a scale of sound starting (somewhat) low and increasing in pitch is forced out. Warriors may not be able to hear melodies correctly until the fourth or fifth time around, but even he can tell that Hyrule’s voice is beautiful: not a crack, not a hesitation. The harp glows greedily, sucking in the sound and leaving Hyrule winded. The witch carelessly flicks her wrist and Hyrule is thrown back into the cage where he is left gasping for air. Sky helps him up and the younger hero tries to speak, but nothing comes out. Hyrule pales, his hand flying to his throat. The Queen seems pleased, and requests that the harp play. The strings move expertly, guided by invisible fingers, and a haunting melody pours out, the cries of several dozen voices that were taken from their bodies too early.
               Warriors shouts and abandons Legend on the ground as Wind is ripped from them next, struggling and pulling at the magic shackles as he’s lifted toward the harp. He swears, young voice cursing up a storm of words he must have learned from the pirates he was always telling stories about. The witch doesn’t even try to ask for any skill this time. “He’s too young,” she scratches out, “any skill he has is not fully developed. We can try again another time, after he’s been trained. His voice, though, will be sweet and tender; a beautiful addition to our collection.” She lifts her hand. Warriors rams his shoulder into the barrier in hopes of breaking it, and can feel Time and Twilight doing the same not far from him, but he can do nothing as Wind’s voice, high and beautiful without the depth of maturity to age it, is stolen from him and stored in the harp. Instead, he moves to catch his little brother as he’s tossed back in like a ragdoll. Wind’s eyes are wide and his body trembling. All Warriors can do is hold him closer as the monster takes her next victim.
                 Warriors’s mother finds him crying in his room. He is lying on his little bed, holding his pillow close to his face. “What’s wrong, my bairn?” The bed dips as she sits on it, her fingers resting on his scalp to comb through wavy gold locks.
               “I don’t know!” Warriors wails, burying his face deeper.
               “There’s always a reason,” his mother pauses. “Is this about the parade?” Warriors doesn’t answer. He feels shame rise in him. He’d been so excited, even after he was told not to sing. But now he was just tired.
               “Your papa was there,” she says. “Weren’t you happy to see him?” Warriors nods.
               “Yeah,” his voice comes out shaky, but his sniffles are dying down. “He winked at me.” He’d almost forgotten that, how his father had left decorum to show some warmth toward his son. Appearances are incredibly important to his dad.
               “That was something good, then,” she says. Warriors rolls over to look at her and she removes her hand. Her brown hair is tied up in a loose bun and she’s smiling at him tenderly. He sits up to scoot closer and be welcomed into her embrace. “Let me guess; the king and princess weren’t as amazing as you were hoping they’d be.”
               Warriors’s eyes widen. He has no idea how she knows. He voices it as a question.
               “It’s not that hard to figure out,” she laughs, the sound bubbling from her throat. “I’ve been to a couple of them myself.”              
               “We’ve been practicing every day for weeks,” he says. “I memorized every word; I still remember all of them.”
               “I know.”
               “It was over so fast! They just rode by, like it was nothing!”
               “I know.”
               He pouts, his arms crossed. “I didn’t get to sing. I just had to stand there and mouth the words and ‘look pretty’.” His mother’s arm stiffens and she bends to look him in the face.
               “So that’s why you’ve been so down the last couple a’ weeks.”
               He looks away from her, ashamed. “Everyone else sings,” he says sullenly.
               His mother sighs and pulls him onto her lap. “I’m afraid you’ve inherited your mother’s musical abilities,” she says.
               He sniffs and wipes his eyes. “What do you mean?”
               His mother smiles ruefully. “Hylians are all able to sing. They are naturally musically inclined. They can pick apart the inconsistencies in tone and pitch, and can quickly adjust accordingly. A lot of humans can, too, though not to the skill level of Hylians. But some humans have a harder time with music. It’s a genetic thing, and sometimes it can be trained out with a lot of hard work. You have to ask yourself, though, if it is worth it.”
               “What do you mean?”
               “What’s important to you? If you want to teach yourself to sing or play an instrument when it’s incredibly difficult for you, then great, you can do that. But so can every Hylian that lives in Hyrule, and to them it comes naturally. But you aren’t everyone else; you’re your own individual. It might seem like a good idea to be like everyone else, especially when they prize something you don’t have, but in the end it just steals your life from you. You work hard for something that may never measure up to their standards, and your hard work doesn’t end up paying off. You become miserable rather than liked. And you end up disliking yourself.
               “What’s important to you, Link? What do you want to spend your time doing?”
               Warriors smiles. That’s easy. “I want to spend time with you!” he exclaims. His mother laughs. Warriors loves his mother’s laugh. Her brown eyes smile.
               “You are quite the wee flatterer, aren’t you? C’mon, help me get dinner ready for your papa. He’ll be hungrier than a bear when he gets home tonight.”
                 Warriors is the only one left by the time the witch gets to him. All the others are silent, their voices having been taken, and in certain cases their skills as well. Wind has (mostly) recovered, and is sitting tensely nearby. Legend is extremely pale, like the harp took out an enormous chunk of his soul. He’s shuddering and glaring at the others in an obvious, “stay away” fashion, but Sky has somehow been able to break through his barrier and is resting a hand on his shoulder. The others appear dour as well, though Wild doesn’t look nearly as heartbroken. He’s signing something to Time. Warriors has no idea what, though.
               Four is thrown back in, landing with a thump on the floor. Wind goes forward to console him, (though he looks fairly well put together) and Warriors feels the tug of energy on his body. He is yanked forward, and the Queen is sitting in complete bliss as she listens to the harp hum with the lost voices of his friends. To him, it doesn’t sound beautiful: it just sounds like they are in pain.
               “Last one,” Kelpit murmurs, and his hands are locked behind his back. “No instrument, Mantah?” she asks. Mantah replies to the negative, and the hag looks at him curiously. “Odd. I would have thought that by now one as old as you would have at least tried something. Very well. He is a Hylian; I suppose his voice will have to do.”
               “I can’t sing,” Warriors says quickly. There is a moment of complete silence, and then the entire court erupts in laughter. The hag’s shoulders shake, too, a twisted grin showing broken teeth.
               “I have to admit, I haven’t heard that one before. You’re funny. Perhaps, if I had let you keep your voice, you would have made an excellent jester. But we’ll never know.” Warriors feels the tug of magic on his vocal chords, and he suddenly understands why the others were so distraught. Sounds begin to leave his throat, and even he can tell that something’s not right. The harp, rather than humming in pleasure, is trembling as if withstanding an awful gale that is shaking its very foundation.
               “Stop!” the Queen commands. “Stop it this instant!”
               “I’m trying,” Kelpit is weaving her hands through the air frantically as if there is an elusive fairy she has to catch.
               There is a loud crack which echoes through the room. Strings break and snap under the weight of Warriors’s sound. He can’t stop it, and at this point he doesn’t want to. Something like pleased retribution rises in his gut as the Queen’s greatest achievement becomes nothing more than a frame with broken wires and splintered wood. There is the briefest moment of silence as Warriors’s dissonance tapers off and the harp still stands, albeit decrepitly. The whole room seems to hold its breath. Suddenly there is an explosion of blue light and a hundred screams louder than the crashing of many thunders. Warriors turns his face to the side and covers his eyes as it blasts throughout the room, its boom making little rumbles in his chest. When the dust clears, the hag has been knocked on her back and Warriors has been freed. He glances over his shoulder at the others who have left the enclosure and are now going to their weapons.
               The Queen seems particularly distraught. “My harp! My glorious harp!”
               “I did warn you,” Warriors says, pleased to have his voice back.
               “You!” she seethes, turning toward him. “You’ve ruined everything with that awful thing you call a voice. I’m going to rip out your vocal chords and feed them to the Dodongos!”
               “No, you won’t.” Time moves forward with his sword in his hand. Without their witch, the others are able to take down the Zoras easily. The guards aren’t prepared to shoot darts out, and many of them are lying stunned on the ground from the harp’s explosion. The litter-bearers aren’t warriors, and scattered the moment the heroes got their hands on their weapons.
               The Queen screams in frustration, commanding her guards to wake up and recapture their prisoners, but it’s too late. Time and Hyrule are grinning as they hold their swords to her fat chin. Legend has finished off his foes and is stomping on the remains of the harp, as if rendering it to dust will somehow sate his rage.
               “You pathetic rodents, how could you? You destroyed a masterpiece of art! A legacy that would have been passed down to generations of Royalty!”
               “I’d be quiet if I were you,” Sky says from where he’s tying up stunned guards.
               The monster’s pale grey eyes turn to him, and Warriors feels the weight of her stare. Oh well. He’s used to stares. “It’s impossible! How - I don’t understand! You’re Hylian! How could you be so horrible!??”
               “I’m half human, you giant ugly sea-slug,” Warriors gloats. “Some of us have notoriously bad voices. Your time on the stage is over; I think it’s time for you to take a bow.”
               Four comes up beside Warriors and puts a hand on his arm. “As much as I’d love to dethrone this tyrant, we have to be mindful of the power gap that may be left behind. Zoras have a strict line of succession, and –” he is cut off as the Regent’s eyes widen and her blob-like form tips forward. She screeches as she rolls down the steps, leaving behind Wild and Legend, who high-five.
               “How’s that for a dethroning?” Legend trumpets.
               “Help me! Help me up!” She’s relied so long on the servitude of the smaller Zoras that she no longer can raise herself.
               “Help yourself,” Hyrule mutters, and sheaths his sword. They are done.
                 Warriors is walking with the others back to their camp, which had been left in disarray. Twilight quietly pads beside him and watches the others run and laugh as they approach the clearing where their fish had been left to dry in the sun. Warriors feels warm and light. Being with the others is something he will never take for granted.
               “You can sing with us, you know,” Twilight says suddenly to his right. Warriors looks at him from the corner of his eye. “None of us care how you sound.”
               Warriors can feel the surprise on his face. “You heard me; you heard how horrible I was!”
               Twilight shrugs. “Not really. I’ve heard worse. I grew up in a village of humans, I know horrible singing.” He grins and turns to Warriors. “Though, you are pretty bad…”
               Warriors gasps and holds a hand to his chest dramatically. “How dare you!”
               “I wouldn’t lie to you,” Twilight grins. Warriors shoves at him with his shoulder. The sturdy farmhand isn’t fazed a bit, and Warriors ends up bouncing back the way he came. Twilight’s laugh is low and gravelly, and Warriors is surprised to find it isn’t much different from his singing.
               “But seriously,” he continues after his chuckles have died off, “you don’t need to be ashamed of your voice. Don’t ever feel that way. Everyone should be able to enjoy singing, whether or not they are the best at it.”
               “I’m not sure the others will feel that way,” Warriors says dryly. “Legend seems a bit persnickety when it comes to music.”
               “He’ll get over it. If he doesn’t, I’ll wrestle him into the ground.” Twilight smiles, but Warriors gets the feeling he’s serious.
               “Thanks,” because no Hylian but his father has ever given him quarter when it comes to his pipes.
               “Now,” Twilight claps his hands, “let’s get back to the others. I overheard Wild talking about a fish daikon stew, and I can’t wait to try it!”
               As Twilight jogs to catch up, Warriors smiles. He has a hard time with melody, it’s true. Today has only cemented that fact more firmly in his mind. But he isn’t deaf to beauty. His friends laughing, talking with and enjoying one another, that is music to his ears. As he hurries to catch up to their group he chuckles to himself. He is more than ready for that kind of symphony.
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bottled-bliss · 6 years ago
Text
AOP
This can be read as a kind of sequel to "Walking Back Home In The Mud" but it's fine on its own too. Enjoy! Or not, I can’t force you.
A peculiar smell drifts in through the open windows- dewberry. It’s sweet and light and totally out of place. She shouldn’t be able to smell it at all, not with the overpowering stench of fresh paint burning her nostrils. She hasn’t caught a sniff of it since Vermont, except maybe in some perfume shop at one point or another, but artificial smells are different. They don’t have the same time traveling abilities, the power of launching you back into your childhood bedroom like you never left. It makes her think of her mother, how much she misses her and how she’d love to have her here, to help with the alien being that she’s growing inside her, just under her heart.
“Frank,” she shouts and hears him promptly stomp down the stairs. “Can you smell that?”
“Can’t smell anything but the goddamn paint. I left the windows open, hope it helps,” he grumbles. “What is it? Something burning?”
“No, nothing like that.” She eases herself down onto the couch and twists just enough to stretch her legs on it as well. Movement is becoming increasingly difficult these days, as her belly keeps expanding. “Maybe I imagined it,” she shrugs.
“Like the garlic bread last week?” Frank chuckles. He gently grips her ankles, lifts up her legs and sits down beside her, as he grabs a throw pillow to place on his lap, under her feet. “Gotta keep them elevated,” he reminds her and starts giving her feet a much needed massage, smiling when she lets out a moan. He looks a bit silly with the mint green smudges on his face, on his clothes -all over him actually. Silly and laid-back and gorgeous. The past month has taught her she shouldn’t even try to bend forward, but if she could, she would be kissing him right now.
“You don’t know how good this feels,” Karen purrs before getting down to business. “So, are you finished painting the nursery? I want to have the crib set up by the end of the week. The changing table too and it wouldn’t hurt to have some drawers in there and-”
“Slow down,” Frank says, his thumb kneading the arch of her left foot as she wiggles her toes. “I’ll set up everything, stop being so stressed. You didn’t take the week off so you could nag me the whole time, did you?”
Karen gives him a snort full of disapproval. “I don’t nag.”
He raises one eyebrow and cocks his head, lips curling into an amused smile. “Baby, you nag.”
She kicks his hand away playfully while trying to hide her own smile. “If I do, it’s because this little hell spawn of yours is giving me a hard time,” she huffs and places a protective hand on her belly. “Would it kill you to sit still for one moment?” she addresses the baby and then turns to Frank. “I could swear it already hates me.”
“Might be because you’re still calling it ‘it’,” he says, running his palm over her leg.
“It’s mine, I’ll call it what I like,” she tells him.
Frank leans to the side, lowering his head towards her stomach and rubbing his cheek against it. “What are you doing in there that’s got her so mad, kid?” he says in a low voice, like he and the baby are having a private conversation, and then jolts up, surprised. “Christ, that was one mean kick!”  
“No kidding.” Karen exhales slowly. “I’ve developed this theory that the baby is actually trying to kick its way out of me. And at this rate, it will probably succeed.”
He places a tender hand over hers, worry obvious in his eyes. “Does it hurt?”
“Not really, but I’m not enjoying it either.” She hisses as the imprint of a tiny foot appears, pushing against the stretched flesh of her belly. She’s about to start telling the kid off, when she notices Frank’s hypnotized stare. Without saying a word, she takes his hand and presses it down, hoping her estimation of the baby’s next target is correct. “There,” she says when the kick lands. “You felt that, right?”
“Yeah,” he gives her a teary-eyed look. “Yeah, I felt it.”
Her fingers wrap around his in an affectionate squeeze as he pretends to examine the living room walls. “You’ve already painted those,” Karen remarks kindly.
Not bothering to deny he got caught, Frank lets out a quiet, soft laugh. “Can’t hide from you, can I?” He continues rubbing her leg lazily, his eyes rolling to the side as he tries either to recall something or avoid her gaze.
“Frank.”
“Hmm?”
“What did you do?”
When he turns to her, he’s holding a breath that he lets out slowly, very slowly, buying time for himself. “What makes you think I did anything?” he says finally. It’s just a game they play. He likes to tease her but he always spills the beans without much effort from her part. Karen’s brow shoots up and he knows that he shouldn’t drag it out this time. “I may or may not have called your doctor while you were in the bathroom earlier.”
“Frank, come on,” she whines. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“And it will be, for you,” he assures her. Her disbelieving glare makes him want to laugh, but he manages to stifle it. “You don’t trust me to keep my mouth shut? I will, cross my heart and all that.”
Karen moves forward with a grunt and slaps his arm. “Why couldn’t you wait?”
“Because I hate surprises, you know,” he says. “And I was thinking about that form you showed me the other day. Child’s name goes on top. We haven’t even started talking about names yet. What are we going to tell the notary public? Give us a week to decide?”
“I have half a mind to call it Matthew even if it’s a girl, just to annoy you,” she grumbles and Frank roars with laughter.
“Don’t you dare.” He grabs her hand and brings it to his lips.
“Matthew David has a nice ring to it too,” she smirks.
“You wouldn’t be that cruel to the father of your child,” he says before kissing her palm and placing it on his cheek. “I’ll be good from now on, I swear.”
The baby delivers a little pop of a kick, as though asking her to take pity on daddy, and Karen rubs the stubbly cheek under her palm. “I could do worse but I’m going to let this one slide. It seems that you two are teaming up against me.”
“It,” he stresses the word, “knows what’s right.”  
“Oh, getting cocky, are we?” She leans closer to her belly and casts him a smile that is all threat, as she whispers to the baby. “Are you comfortable in there, Matthew David?” Frank raises his hands in surrender and the baby stays suspiciously still. She counts that as a win. “Both are good names though.”
“No way in hell,” he laughs again. “I can’t handle more than one David and one Matthew in our life. We’re covered on that front.”
“So it’s a boy,” Karen exclaims. She expected to be a bit disappointed at finding out now instead of later, but she really isn’t. A little nervous, maybe, because she doesn’t know the first thing about raising a boy. But also excited.
“Didn’t say that,” Frank cuts her excitement short.
“A girl?” She realizes she doesn’t know the first thing about raising a girl either. What was she thinking, that she would magically have all the insight necessary to bring up a person, simply because they happened to be of the same gender? Frank presses his lips together in response, refusing to give up the secret. “That’s not fair,” Karen frowns.
“I thought you didn’t want to know,” he quirks an eyebrow. “If you’ve changed your mind…”
“I haven’t,” says Karen and turns her head away, pouting in mock annoyance.
“Okay then.”
Placing an arm behind her knees, Frank lifts up her legs and gets up, setting the pillow on a different angle, making sure the position is up to his standards before gently laying her feet on it. As he stands there rubbing the back of his neck, Karen follows his gaze across the room, to the kitchen table where the printed AOP form lies. She wonders if the same thing that bothers her, bothers him too. “Have you thought of any names?” she asks.
“Don’t expect anything creative from me,” he chuckles, distracted momentarily. “Jane and John are the first names that came to mind.”
“Jane Castiglione,” she says, inclining her head to the side as though seriously considering it. “It doesn’t sound bad.”
“It sounds terrible. Same goes for John Castiglione,” he replies as he bends down to kiss her forehead. “We could go with Penelope, if it’s a girl. If you…”
Karen reaches up to stroke his cheek. “It’s very sweet of you to suggest it, but as much as I loved my mom, I don’t want to force that name on a child. It’s not very… us, don’t you think?” Her eyes widen, sparkling with an idea. “What about your mom’s name?”
“Louisa? You like that?”
Yes, she really does and the more she thinks about it, the more fitting it seems. “Louisa Castiglione. Yeah, I like it. Do you? Or is it too much like…”
“A little bit,” Frank admits with a tightness in his tone. “We have time to come up with something. No rush.”
Karen nods. “And if it’s a boy?”
He hesitates for a split second, maybe even less than that, looking confused, which tells Karen a lot more than he’d planned. “Uh, I don’t know,” he replies. “We agree that both Paxton and Mario are shit names, right?”
“Oh, definitely.” A bright smile starts forming on her lips, as something like joy stirs in her stomach, prompting the baby to begin moving again as well. Joy, she thinks and puts the name down in the mental list of potential names for their daughter. “But we won’t be needing any boys’ names, I take it?”
Frank throws his hands up and then cradles her face in them, leaning in to kiss her. “How the hell do you do that?”
“You’re too easy to read, Castle,” Karen giggles and throws her arm over the back of the couch, slanting backwards. “A little girl, huh?”
“Yeah,” he beams at her, taking a deep breath.
“Well, I hope she likes green because that room isn’t getting repainted for a long time.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again, if she doesn’t like it,” Frank tells her, eyes narrowed with a smile.
Great, Karen thinks, the kid isn’t even out yet and he’s already set on spoiling her. “Jane Castiglione is really not a bad name.” Frank pulls a seriously displeased face. “Is it the Castiglione part that bothers you?”
“No, why would it? I’ll sign the paper as Pete Castiglione and I’ll be proud to do it. But it bothers you.”
“Just a tiny little bit,” she confesses.
“It’s just a name, Karen.” He shrugs and his eyes gleam with mischief. “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”
“You know, continuing to quote Shakespeare in spite of me asking you to stop, is grounds for divorce,” Karen says, tapping her finger on the couch while holding his gaze.
“You’ll have to marry me before you can file for divorce,” he chuckles as he makes his way towards the stairs, probably going to add some finishing touches to the nursery before jumping in the shower.
“Well, you haven’t asked me yet.”
Frank freezes in his tracks and for a moment, Karen considers if that’s too much pressure for him. There’s no reason why it should be; they’ve been living together for some time, they’re expecting a baby, for god’s sake, and while she doesn’t need a ring on her finger to feel secure in her relationship, she’s going to smack him if he freaks out on her. When he turns around to face her, his features are soft and calm and Karen is glad that she doesn’t have to resort to violence, especially because she’d have to get up to do it. “I will,” he tells her simply and goes off to finish his chores.
Frank planted two large rose bushes in the flower beds of their front yard just last week, but despite their size, they haven’t made their presence known until now, as a mild breeze carries their scent inside the house and spreads it around the living room. Karen inhales deeply, not letting the smell drag her back to the past, but have her glimpse into the future instead. She knows enough about genetics to understand the chances of the kid looking like her are slim, but she’s perfectly okay with that. The only flaw she can imagine in a child that looks like Frank is that she’ll have two sets of those dark, puppy eyes melting her heart. “I won’t allow you to be spoiled, you hear me?” she speaks softly, rubbing her belly. ‘Your father will be a constant foil to my plans, but you’re not going to become some obnoxious brat that nobody likes. And you’d better love mint green, we’re done with painting for at least five years. Well, maybe if you’d like a bit of yellow, I’d consider it. I don’t know, stop being so spoiled already,” she smiles as her daughter finally settles down to sleep. 
AO3
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chu-ni · 6 years ago
Text
candy jar -- ldh.
pairing: haechan x reader
genre: enemies to lovers?? yeah?? with some fluff?
warnings: swearing. so if you’re not into that,,,sad times :(
word count: 5.8k
a/n: in case u didn’t know this is based off the netflix film candy jar!! i got real inspired by it!!
also this is my first fic on this blog so like. please be nice sksk
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“Look at him. Look at that smug look on his smug face,” you grumble under your breath, eyes shooting daggers at the boy currently sitting across from you. Ever since kindergarten, you and Lee Donghyuck (or Haechan, as he preferred to be called) have had a vendetta, of sorts.
It all started when he upstaged your speech on butterflies (which was very well written, if you said so yourself) back in kindergarten by singing a song about bees, bees, of all things! He even smiled at you as he did it. Since then, it seemed as though he’d made it his life’s mission to beat you at absolutely everything. You’d had a passion for debate as soon as you’d entered high school, and, lo and behold, your lifetime enemy had a passion for debate too. Now juniors, the both of you admittedly put a little less time into arguing with each other,and more into your studies, but after the previous captain of debate club had graduated last year, a kind upperclassman named Mark, the two of you were the top (and only willing) candidates to take his place. Your constant arguments about who should take over had resulted in the two of you currently being forced to spend some time in the counselor’s office.
“I don’t think you understand, Miss Johnson. I’m clearly more level headed and responsible than him, so I deserve the title of captain, obviously-”
“Obviously? Obviously a four time state qualifier like me deserves the title, and, when you consider the numerous contributions my parents have made to the debate club-”
“Here we go again, Donghyuck, always using your precious rich kid privilege to get what you want. Can’t you ever work for something you want like the rest of us?”
“If by ‘the rest of us’ you mean the likes of peasants, like you, then the answer is most definitely a solid no-”
“Oh my God, you’re so annoying!” You say, throwing your hands up in frustration.
“See? This is why I can’t work with her. How do you expect us to co-captain when she’s like this?”
Eyes narrowed, glaring at him, you snarl. “When I’m like what, Donghyuck?”
Pinching her nose bridge, the counsellor interrupts you two.
“Quiet, the both of you!”
You sink into your seat, cowed.
“Honestly. I asked the two of you to jointly run a group because I thought you’d be mature enough to set aside your differences– however silly they were– and work effectively. But clearly, my expectations were too high. The both of you can leave my office and return when you can speak to each other with some kind of civility.”
“But-” Haechan interjects.
“Out!” She snaps. “I wonder if the two of you are even human sometimes,” she mutters.
And with that, the two of you leave, shoving each other on your way out.
If it wasn’t bad enough that the two of you were forced to share a club together, it was even worse that the two of you were forced into sharing every class together, as well. As the bell rings, signifying an hour of sheer boredom with the one person you’d be happy to go the rest of your life without, you begin dragging yourself to your lesson when his voice pipes up.
“You know, that meeting would’ve gone a lot better if you’d just admitted the truth.”
Sighing, you look at him, already done with the conversation. “And what truth is that, Haechan? Please do enlighten me,”
“That I should be captain of the debate club. You can be my deputy, of course, that’s something you’re better suited to. But I would suit the position of captain a lot better than you. The sooner you accept that, the easier things will be.”
Your eyes narrow once more, and you honestly don’t know whether to be angry or just plain shocked that people– no– Donghyuck, can come up with such bullshit on a daily basis.
“And why would I suit the position of deputy more than being a captain, Haechan? Are you saying that because you’re a man, you’re better suited to positions of leadership? Or that I’m just supposed to sit down and accept all the bullshit you spew in an inferior position because that pea-brain of yours can’t wrap itself around the fact that a girl may be better qualified to lead than you?” He opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off, having had enough. “The amount of stupidity that you allow to leave your mouth astounds me, Lee Haechan, and unfortunately for you, I’m tired of listening to it.” With that, you stomp away from him, unbelievably irritated.
The rest of the day passes by in a blur, and honestly, in between studying for upcoming tests and finishing off projects for various classes, so does the rest of the week, thankfully, with no further interaction with Donghyuck….which is what would’ve happened had it not been for the absolute bombshell dropped on you on Friday.
“The two of you are going to represent us in the state qualifiers for the youth debate prize!” Your principal, a portly man with a receding hairline and a suit that was way too tight on him squeals in joy.
You, in comparison are far from excited. In all honesty, you’d rather fling yourself from the nearest rooftop than work with him after your last full conversation with him, which, still makes your blood boil. However, luckily, your soon to be partner, the one and only Lee Donghyuck, feels the same way you do, judging from his thunderous expression. You watch as he inhales deeply, most likely preparing a long winded speech as to why he just cannot possibly work with you, but to your surprise, you hear a simple, concise,
“Fine.”
In a daze, you nod along, and are rushed out of the principal’s office. He doesn’t say a word to you after that, choosing to run ahead to his car, making his way home. Shaking your head, you also rush home, preparing some ideas on what points to make for the set topic the next time you see him. Hopefully, you think to yourself, the next time would be a lot more bearable.
The next time you see him is completely unbearable. 
He refuses to listen, tries to one-up you at every turn, which is impossible considering you’re in a team, and his non stop snide remarks have you /this close/ to punching him in the balls.
“Donghyuck,” you hiss.
He stops whatever it is he’s doing with his cue cards for all of one, blissful second, and then promptly returns to being overall annoying.
“Donghyuck,” you snarl.
He turns to look at you this time, as though you were stopping him from doing something incredibly important. “Listen,” you start, “we aren’t getting anywhere like this.” at that, he scoffs. “You’re damn right about that.” Anger rises within you, but you push it down just so you can finish this conversation and go home already. “I think we should take a break and try again tomorrow, don’t you?” He’s silent for a few beats, and you think you’ve gotten through to him, that maybe you’ve found something to mutually agree on.
“How about we just do the work separately? I’ll plan the whole thing, and you can debate it on the day.” Of all the things you would’ve expected him to say (something more along the lines of “Thank God, I can’t wait to be as far away from you as possible!” or maybe a “Yes!”), you never thought he’d be the kind of person to say something like that. But, considering his opinion on being captain of the debate club, it begins to make sense.
“How about we actually try and work together? You agreed to us being a pair, so why don’t we at least try and share the work evenly, yeah?” You were surprising yourself with your suggestions, but you didn’t like the idea of leaving him to his own devices. “I know this may be hard for you to believe, Y/N,” he starts, “But newsflash! I don’t trust leaving you alone with something like this.” Breathing a heavy sigh, you try to get through to him, “Do I have to spell this out for you or something? We have accomplished nothing in the 2 hours we’ve been in this empty ass library, because you seem to have made it your daily mission to get under my skin. So could you be 10% less dickish for 5 minutes? Please?”
He looks deep in thought, before speaking, his blasé drawl already setting you on edge. “Hmm, maybe not.”
“Why? Why is listening to me so unbelievably hard for you?” You explode, exasperated.
“Let me spell things out for you, Y/N. Listening to you does absolutely nothing for me. I reap no rewards whatsoever, and I know your brain isn’t,” he pauses to double tap your forehead, “all there, but I thought you would’ve realised throughout this whole enemy thing that I am entirely self-serving. To put it bluntly, I don’t care.” 
Maybe Donghyuck felt a little bit bad when he saw your eyes flash with something that was less anger and more hurt, but for some odd reason whenever it came to speaking with you, his mouth tended to have a mind of its own. Maybe it was rooted in the fact that he wanted his revenge from the last time the two of you said more than 2 words to each other, or maybe he took joy in seeing you angry around him. Actually, scratch that last one. Donghyuck was many things, but a sadist was not one of them.
“Do this whole thing by yourself then. As if I could ever work with an arrogant jerk like you,” you growl, voice ice cold, before leaving the library, trying (and failing) to slam the door behind you.
Walking, and then gradually running, out of school grounds, you cursed as a single tear rolled down your cheek. You’d never let anything he’d said get to you before, so why had it gotten to you now? And over a stupid joint project, of all things. Your heart knew why, obviously- you cared about his opinion of you, even if it was generally mutually pretty shit. Your mind, on the other hand– while still trying to figure out how to stop crying, as well as the root cause of Donghyuck’s extra dose of dickishness– was coming up blank.
For the next couple of weeks, you don’t speak to him. You don’t work on your upcoming debate for the state qualifiers, you don’t look at him in debate club, and you refuse to even acknowledge his existence, both in and out of school.
That is, until homecoming rolls around.
For most of your high school career, you’d been focused on your studies. After all, you were the first generation in your family to become a college student, so why not do even better and get into a good one–no, a great one. Why not try for Harvard? That had been your philosophy since you’d graduated middle school and so you’d thrown yourself into constant studying, extracurriculars, (90% of which you’d dropped during your first month) anything to boost your college application. It was never too early to be prepared, in your eyes. As a side effect of this, you were kind of, hopeless in the friendship department. To put it nicely, you were a loner. To put it bluntly, you had no friends.
You weren’t planning on going to the homecoming dance anyway, but your mom seemed hell-bent on giving you a life that didn’t revolve around studying and bickering with a certain arrogant 18 year old asshole, and so you ended up donning a modest red dress with some heels and saying goodbye to your mom the night of.
“You’re staying over at a friends house after the party, right?”
“Yes, mom. I’ll probably come home, anyway.”
“No! I want you to have some fun, for once! Live a little, huh?”
Looking her in the eyes, you whisper your assent, and turn to go, waving at her until you’re sure she’s gone inside. Once she is, you change your direction to your local movie theatre, ready for a nice night of movies and popcorn. It wasn’t like you hated homecoming, or dances in general, you just didn’t see the point of being a sweaty gym hall surrounded by hormonal teenagers and shitty music from the top 40.
You buy your first round of snacks and settle in to watch some throwaway rom-com with an mildly interesting plot. It’s okay, but you definitely could’ve chosen a better film to waste your time with, as you found your eyes fluttering shut at some parts. You head back out into the lobby and choose a more action packed film to watch, and as you finish paying for your second round of snacks, this time consisting of more chocolates and candy than popcorn, you come face to face with the one person you’d been avoiding so well for the past couple of weeks. The two of you make awkward eye contact, which you instantly break, by the way, upon discovery that he cleans up kind of.….nice.
Really nice, actually. Could it be that Donghyuck was actually kind of…hot?
You erase that thought the second it pops into your head. You absolutely refuse to see this boy, the bane of your existence for the past decade, as anything other than the arrogant ass he is. And yet, he really does look good in the plain white suit that seems to accentuate his lean figure. You’re brought out of your thoughts by him, currently looking a strange mix of shocked and confused.
“Uh…theatre two?”
You blink, before realising.
“Oh. oh! right, I’m gonna…go..now.”
You turn and run into the theatre, but this film seems to be even worse than the last one, the shitty CGI and cardboard acting sending you halfway to sleep in the first 30 minutes. You want to get up and leave, but you don’t want to go home too early and you don’t like the idea of having wasted all that money on a film you couldn’t even finish. So you force yourself to sit through the rest of it, focusing on finishing your snacks and trying to get interested in the film.
You breathe a sigh of relief as the film ends, and you leave the cinema, ready to go home and prepare a few lines about how fun homecoming was for your mom to hear when you bump into him.
Again.
You awkwardly smile at him before beginning to walk in your house’s direction, when he breaks the silence, speaking up. “You know, I never pegged you for the lonely type.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and seeing it makes you get a special kind of angry.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Donghyuck. Least of all with you.” you reply, already feeling irritation boil in your chest.
You begin to walk away once more, when the heel on your shoe just so happens to break, and you curse to yourself, wondering why this had to happen now of all times as you attempt (horribly) to fix your shoe.
“Uh, do you need- do you need a ride home?”
You freeze.
He’d never sounded so shy, so quiet, so, not him in the 15 years you’d known him. “Why would you wanna give me a ride?” you ask, apprehensive.
“I may not like you all that much, but even i was raised better than to leave a girl to walk home alone, y/n.” Gone was the timid tone from a few seconds ago – the caustic, teasing lilt you’d become accustomed to had returned. And somehow, that comforted you. Made you feel a lot more at ease than the almost nice version of Donghyuck you’d heard a few seconds earlier. You thought about his proposition for a little longer. Could you really trust him, of all people?
Yes. Yes you could.
“…..You’ll take me straight home?”
You swore you saw his eyes light up a little, but you put it to the back of your mind.
“This isn’t home, Hyuck.”
His heart speeds up a little at the nickname you’d used, and he hopes you don’t notice the surprise in his eyes as he turns away from the collection point at the drive-thru to face you.
“Your observational skills continue to amaze me, Y/N. Tell me, how do you do it?” you can feel the sarcasm dripping from his words, but refuse to deign him with a reply. “Besides, milkshakes and fries are a great combination. And you look like you need it.” You curl your lip in disgust as he hands you your meal. “This kind of stuff ruins your organs! It’s a recipe for type 2 diabetes, Hyuck, I’m telling you,” “I’m here for a good time, not a long time, babe!” he laughs as he starts the engine and begins to drive. “Where are we going now?” You ask, groaning in annoyance. “You’d be so much better looking if you didn’t talk so much, you know that? Just relax for once, yeah?” You stiffen at the first part of his sentence, but put it to the back of your mind as you stare out the car window, aloof. The rest of the ride thankfully passes by in silence, allowing you to get lost in your own thoughts. As much as you disliked Donghyuck, you had to appreciate the (albeit unexpected) gesture that he was making for you. the experience at the cinema earlier had kind of cemented the fact that you were kind of a loner, and hyuck had made you feel…not alone. You definitely wouldn’t call him a friend, but he was most definitely less of an enemy. You slide your eyes over to look at him, bored with the view from the window. You’d never noticed it before, but his profile was actually really beautiful. The moles dotted across his cheek and neck, the slope of his nose and his even, warm skin tone that seemed to radiate the sun, and the way his full lips settled into a natural pout…
Donghyuck was not a bad looking guy.
And for all his very many faults, being ugly was very much not one of them. So why had it taken you this long to notice?
“We’re here, dumbass.” You jump, shaken and you inwardly hope he hadn’t caught you staring-
“And stop staring at me. it’s creepy.”
With that, you clearly realised why it had taken that long to notice anything about Donghyuck aside from his annoyingly big stupid mouth that never seemed to shut up.
“I wasn’t staring at you, dumbass.”
“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, sure.”
Following him to the peak of the hill he’d taken you to, you gasp. In front of you both laid the rest of the city in all of its glory. The lights dotted all over, showing a kaleidoscope of colour, the lake in the far distance, the trees within the various neighborhoods and green spaces….it was basic, but it took your breath away. Because you were so separate from it all, it gave you space to breathe, away from the hustle and bustle of your town.
“Woah,” you breathe.
“I know. Woah,” he replies, grinning. You didn’t know it, but taking you up here had been his way of apologising for how he’d treated you the last time you’d met. Hyuck was never the kind of person to apologize outright though, so this was the best you were going to get.
“This is…something else,”
As you got lost in the view below, it became Donghyuck’s turn to stare at you. Unlike you, he could actually get past the fact that you never stopped talking.
The first time he’d noticed you were somewhat beautiful was the beginning of sophomore year. You were both in the same classes for everything, but it was during a creative writing segment in English class that he’d realised you weren’t that bad. You were reading out a poem you’d written, shyly laughing to yourself when you’d made a small mistake and he’d thought you were actually kind of….cute. Of course, Hyuck would rather die than ever say that to your face, seeing as you’d never let him live it down, but it was nice to admire, wasn’t it?
“….Stop staring at me, it’s creepy!” you say, mocking his earlier tone. He should’ve been annoyed at that, but to his own surprise, he found it somewhat endearing.
“Why would I want to stare at someone like you?” He scoffed, looking away.
“If thats what helps you sleep at night, sure, Donghyuck. Sure.” You crooned, patting his head, to which he flinched away from in mock disgust.
“Ew.”
Dipping his now somewhat cold fry into his milkshake, he held it towards you. “Anyway, try this.” You looked back and forth between the fry and him for a few seconds, noticing his impatience, and snatched the fry out of his hand, taking a tentative bite. Chewing slowly, you smiled a little in acknowledgment. It actually wasn’t that bad. Doing the same thing with your own fries and milkshake, you found it was better than not bad. It was addicting, as you made a little noise of pleasure upon your third fry.
Watching you eat was probably the greatest thing Hyuck had ever had the pleasure of seeing, and the warm feeling he got when you smiled was something he was just going to have to address another day. Maybe he liked you, he thought. Maybe. But he’d sooner die than say that out loud, so for now he just enjoyed the food with you.
“I told you it was amazing,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow and you knew he was right, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“Eh. they were okay, I guess.”
Jaw dropped and eyebrows raised, he gaped at you in confusion.
“Okay!? This is the best combination known to man, I’ll have you know!”
You shrugged. “Maybe to you. The real best combination is and always will be, fries with ice cream of course,”
“You literally said that was a recipe for type 3 diabetes.”
“I said it was a recipe for type 2 diabetes, dimwit. Type 3 doesn’t even exist!”
The two of you continue to bicker like that for a couple of hours, before you both notice the time and rush to head home, stomachs full and a newfound understanding between you. As the both of you arrive outside your house, the air is clearly thick with unsaid words.
You’re the first to break the silence.
“I…I really enjoyed it.”
Taking a deep breath, you continue,
“This whole thing, I mean. So… thanks, I guess.”
Hyuck nods, saying a few words of his own.
“I'm….happy I bumped into you tonight.”
Stuttering, he continues,
“And-and I wouldn’t mind if you’d want- if you’d want to do this again, sometime?” He sounded unsure and shy, and of all things, Donghyuck hated sounding unsure, and he hated sounding anything less than confident, but you understood him all the same.
You whisper, “I think I’d like that too.”
You stare at each other a little while longer, before you break the trance by shaking your head. Clearing your throat, you make your way out of the car and move to go inside, turning around one last time.
The two of you make brief eye contact, to which you both smile, and only when you’ve finally gone inside do you hear the rumble of his car driving off.
Monday arrives, and the other members of your debate club, which consist of two loud sophomores named Jisung and Chenle, another stuck-up senior named Nancy, and a quiet freshman named Herin, are surprised to see that you and Donghyuck aren’t arguing with each other today. The dirty looks and snide comments are gone, instead replaced with a quiet respect for each other. You’re surprised as well, to see that you can actually hold a conversation with the guy without wanting to rip your hair out for the first time in, well, ever.
He stops you after debate club ends, and for once you don’t automatically feel angry.
“Do you wanna…maybe….try again with the whole project thing?” He’s quiet, and you had to strain to hear him a little, but you found his sudden shyness charming, to say the least. You were beginning to see Haechan as less of an arrogant jerk and more of a…tolerable acquaintance. Who was also kinda cute, and kinda nice. At times.
“Do you promise to listen to me this time?” You look at him expectantly.
“Yes, I promise. I’ll even tone down the dickishness!” He grins for good measure, and you’d be lying if you said his smile didn’t make your heart do flips.
You raise an eyebrow.
“I’ll stop the dickishness,” he grumbles, looking up at you through his eyelashes, which, you realised, were actually pretty long, and pretty adorable, and pretty… pretty.
Hold up.
Since when had you begun using the same adjectives to describe something? You were going to have to do something about this sudden onslaught of feelings, but it felt nice to like someone, even if that someone was Lee Donghyuck.
“So shall we start planning at mine tomorrow?” You snap out of your blatant staring (to which Donghyuck notices, but doesn’t bring up to spare you the embarrassment) in time to catch that final question, and you hum in agreement. He smiles at you again, before waving goodbye and heading off.
You make your own way home as well, a skip in your step and a grin on your face. You spend the rest of your day organising files and the like and preparing things to bring for tomorrow, which you are more than excited about, for some reason. School passes by fairly quickly the next day. You have a pop quiz you think you did okay on, you turn in homework you know you did great on, and you try your best to focus in class, but your mind keeps wandering to him. And a small part of you is kicking, screaming, and outright yelling at you to stop liking him, that you aren’t supposed to like him, that he’s just an arrogant jerk– but the larger part of you is just going with the flow and enjoying the moment while it lasts. You don’t want to like him, but you don’t have the energy to fight against your own feelings when, for once, you don’t have anything to despise him for.
The bell rings at the end of your final lesson, and you find him waiting outside for you, something that already makes your heart flutter. He grabs your hand and almost drags you to his car, a light blue convertible, and you try not to stutter at the feeling of his warm hand and how perfectly it fits into yours.
“Of course you’d have a car like this, Hyuck.” He smiles softly at the nickname, before processing the rest of what you just said. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” He splutters, indignant. “Whatever you want it to mean, I guess,” you sigh, relaxed. Donghyuck’s eyes widen. He wasn’t used to not arguing over anything and everything with you, but the silence between you two becomes a comfortable one for the rest of the ride.
You pull up by his house, and you gasp upon entering. A chandelier hangs in the entry lobby, the walls are decorated with modern art, and a white and gold colour scheme occurs throughout the house. After removing your shoes, Haechan signals you to follow him up the stairs, and you go into his room, which looks as average as any other teenage boy’s room. The colour scheme in here is different to the rest of the house, the walls painted a warm orange. There are a few t-shirts strewn across the floor, a desk in one corner with a laptop and various folders, books and stationery piled onto it. Posters of famous films like pulp fiction, kill bill, and the like decorate the walls, and by his bed you notice a stack of records with music from artists like Michael Jackson and Prince that’s dangerously close to toppling over. The room’s kind of messy, but it’s distinctly Donghyuck, so it doesn’t bother you.
You watch as he flings himself onto his bed, huffing a sigh of tranquility. “Do you wanna get started? I can go downstairs and get us some snacks, if you want,” he says, pulling himself up into a sitting position. “I’d like that,” you smile, and begin to set up your various point cards and cue cards in preparation for your upcoming debate. You’re going over a positive of your proposed argument (which discusses how beneficial a college education is, by the way) when Haechan returns with cookies that smell absolutely heavenly. He offers you one, and you bite into it, moaning in contentment. “These are great,” you giggle. “Who made them?” You ask. “I did, actually.” He mumbles. You pause your happy chewing to look at him. A light dust of pink had settled on his cheeks, and he’d begun fiddling with the edge of one of his cue cards, clearly a little embarrassed. “You- You’re a great baker, Haechan.” You whisper, lightly breaking the silence. He looks up at you, still a little red in the face, then looks off to one side once he notices your sincerity. “Th-thanks,” he mutters. “You know,” he begins, substantially louder and more confident than before, “that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” a knowing grin settles onto his face as he looks at you, and as you meet his stare, you suddenly take note of how close he’s gotten. “Could it be,” he murmurs, voice having dropped an octave, “that you like me?” Your eyes flit back and forth from his lips to his eyes, and you don’t even have time to reply before his lips are on yours.
You freeze, unsure of what to do.
At your lack of response, he begins to pull away, but you pull him back into you, moving your lips against his. He feels soft, billowy, and like everything you’ve ever wanted. If your heart went any faster than it already was you’d probably get some kind of heart problem, but you’d happily suffer cardiac arrest if it meant always being able to kiss him like this. Your eyes are shut, meaning you can’t see anything, obviously, but somehow there’s still an explosion of colour behind them. You tingle, from your head to your toes and you wonder why the hell it took you two this long to do anything like this. You sigh when his hands pull you closer by your waist, and it’s then when he pulls away. Subconsciously, you follow his lips, your eyes opening at the sound of his laugh.
“Was I that amazing?” He giggles, lips slightly reddened.
“Don’t say it like that, dumbass.”, You grumble, “It makes it sound weird.”
“Just admit it, Y/N. You like me,” he croons in a sing-song voice. Part of you wants to punch him, but you roll your eyes and look him dead in the eye instead.
“Maybe I do. What about it, Donghyuck?”
He feels a shudder down his spine at your use of his first name, but he likes it. All throughout middle and high school, he’d made everybody call him by his middle name, Haechan, because he thought it sounded better. But he found himself thoroughly enjoying the fact that you were the one who said his first name to him. Why he suddenly enjoyed it moreso in this situation than all the other times you’d called him by his first name, he did’nt know. Probably because all the other times you were growling, snarling and hissing it at him, and this time you sounded kind of..normal.
“Nothing. Just say my name again, please?”
“Don’t tell me that’s your kink.” You deadpan.
“Only when you say it, babe,”
“God, I hate you,” You growl, trying to get away from him, but he holds you in place, grinning at you.
“You know, you were a lot more bearable when you were kissing me,” you pout.
“Then make me bearable,” he says, staring directly at your lips.
And you do, leaning into him again, feeling content, happy, and just right.
The two of you begin a thing, after that day. Not quite dating, but not quite single either. For now, you’re both content just hanging out in his car and making out at various intervals and going on study dates that always end with no work done, but you don’t mind it. You aren’t really sure you mind anything, when he’s around.
The day of the debate qualifiers comes and goes without a hitch. As a pair, the both of you do well enough to make it to the finals, but you lose to a pair who seemed a lot more emotionally invested in the argument, and although you lost, you didn’t feel all that disappointed, because you won in a different way. You won an okay looking, nice enough, somewhat-boyfriend-who-wasn’t-a-boyfriend-yet, and you were happy with that. As the two of you leave the competition hall, ready to hop in Donghyuck’s car and go home, you ask him a question.
“When did you realise you liked me?”
He hums in thought, “Hmm….I liked you since sophomore year, but I think I only realised it when I took you on our first date.”
“You mean when you stopped me from going home and forcibly kept me with you as you fed me milkshakes and fries? That date?”
“Yes, that date.” He sighed in exhaustion. He liked you, a lot. Maybe even loved you. But absolutely nobody knew how to get on his nerves the way you did. And that would’ve angered him, if not for the fact that he could do the exact same thing to you.
You arrive at his car, and as you both strap yourselves in, you decide to ask another question.
“I- I am your girlfriend, right?”
Donghyuck slowly turned to look at you, face blank.
“Of course not,” he begins, “I just make out with you and take you on dates and bake you food for all of no reason, Y/N.”
You crossed your arms and looked out the window, just for an excuse to look away from him.
“You’re so mean,”
“But you love me anyway!” He beamed, and maybe, maybe just maybe, you did.
“Just kiss me, idiot,”
“My pleasure, dumbass.”
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bakudekuficlibrary · 6 years ago
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Ok I'm 100% convinced all my asks have been eaten by Tumblr. Do you have a list of fics set in the fantasy AU? I need them W I T H O U T the rxpe and under age warnings please, both those things are a tr/gger for me. Thank you.
Hello there, I gotcha! Here’s a mini-list of fantasy au works without mentions of either. 
- Jack
12 Works 
Reparations by Merrywetherweather ( T |  25,716+ | 11/? )
When Izuku was a child, he was told to never enter the woods. But being in possession of the shortest attention span a four year old is capable of, he ignores his mother’s warnings and stumbles after a very pretty butterfly. What he finds, instead, is a friend. His first and only friend.
Izuku is in his twenties now and he no longer runs to meet with the childhood friend who pushed him away so long ago. His mother and their village are on edge because he’s way past his presenting years and he still hasn’t had his first heat. He’s defective. An omega who can’t present can’t find a mate or have kids, not like he’s ever been inclined to find someone or have children. After leaving the confines of his small minded human village and wandering out into the woods once again, in search of a better life, that all changes when he runs into the one person he hoped to meet but never thought he’d see again.
Handful of Courage by ChestnutPatronus14 ( M |  5,035 | 2/? )
Izuku Midoriya is one of the rare few who cannot use magic, but he had always wanted to travel. Ever since he was little he was always exploring, and when he is finally able to travel to the capital city, he is beyond excited. His plans are thrown away when he meets the prince of the Dragon Lands, Katsuki Bakugo, laying injured by the side of the road.
Izuku makes him a promise, that he would get him home no matter what, but Bakugo is having a hard time trusting an outsider. What neither of them expects, is what happens once they return to the Dragon Lands.
be my good luck charm by writedeku ( T |  6,785 | 1/1 )
See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.
(Or the AU in which Izuku’s the world’s unluckiest travelling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)
How to Fulfill a Promise That Nobody Wanted but Pretended They Did by Seatrix ( T | 14,747+ | 6/? )
Midoriya Izuku stumbled upon an unwanted discovery one day, and to fulfill a promise he’d made to a certain red-eyes tamer years ago, he embarks on a journey to find his childhood friend.
It would’ve been easy, you know, if the land wasn’t swarming with demons and if his childhood friend didn’t live in the part where the friggin Demon King took over.
Oh yeah, he’s also clumsy.
Izuku really doesn’t think he’ll survive this.
fantasy au by hoedogg ( T | 5,434+ | 3/? )
What do you do when you and your dragon friend find a group of losers wandering the woods? Mug them, obviously
Day 3: Swap/Fantasy AU – Come Fly With Me by a_genderfluid_otter ( T |  5,075 | 1/1 )
“And go where and do what?” Ochako pursed her lips slightly. “As much as I despise this town, and I do, It’s not like we’re going to be any better in another town. What do we have to offer?”
True, their formal training was limited, since both of them had stopped going to school as soon as they were old enough to help water and weed and plant. And, alright, neither of them had the training to be anything more. Ochako’s family, just like Izuku’s family, were all farmers and farming wasn’t exactly in hot demand closer to the capital.
“I think that I’d honestly rather be homeless in a large city than comfy here.” Ochako stared at Izuku like he had three heads and he shrugged. “At least things happen there. Nothing happens here.”
The Knight of Roses by Mikalua ( G | 1,608 | 1/1 )
Bakugou was about four when he meets the green haired dork with the fluffiest hair he has ever seen, and that was the moment he realized that he was in love.Bakugou was about eight years old when he punched the idiot that spilled his crushes ice cream into the floor and stomped on it to make him cry. Standing up, he walks off with a knowing smirk, without a word as Izuku watches in silent admiration.Bakugou was about nine when Izuku throws white daisies onto his face and starts avoiding him.
For Years and Years… by Shadowolven( G |  1,447 | 1/1 )
Ever since Katsuki first laid his eyes on Izuku, laid eyes on that blinding, innocent smile, Katsuki felt an odd connection to the other. Even if Izuku was the plainest one out of the entire village with no notable qualities to speak of, there was still something about him that tugged at Katsuki’s heartstrings—at his very soul.
They soon became friends and made fond memories together, but then Katsuki began to recall fragments of memories from a different time, from another life.
When Sings the Soul by SurelyHeavenWaits ( E | 7,275+ | ½  )
Ever since he was a tiny child, Izuku has heard the call- the song of his soulmate that beckons to him, no matter the distance. He doesn’t know who they are, or where they are but he does know that he’ll search for them for as long it takes, until he finds them.
Two Sides of the Same Coin by LocalTrashBin ( T | 82,009+ | 10/? )
Dangerous missions across the continent are one thing but dangerous missions across the continent with zero experience, a cursed bracelet and accompanied only by a difficult, hot-headed protector is a whole other story.
Dandelion Snapdragon by Justanotherorange ( T | 9,631+ | 4/? )
The story of a boy who went looking for flowers, and found a dragon instead.
Dragon’s Mark by ellie_mae ( M | 29,556+ | 9/? )
Katsuki Bakugou has been living on his own for many years, accompanied by a very annoying red dragon named Kirishima. They are the last of their kind, unknown to humans. At least, that was how it used to be until a shy boy by the name of Izuku Midoriya enters the picture.
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littlemisskookie · 6 years ago
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Banter
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Banter Ship: Superhero!Jungkook | Supervillain!Reader Description: Roommates!AU, Super!AU. Ironically, some of your best moments are with your archnemesis, the man who you literally fight every other day. But the two of you might be closer than you originally thought. Warnings: Intercourse, Fluff, Small Angst, Oral, Dirty Talk, Orgasm Denial, Dry Humping, Grinding, Kind of Cracky Word Count: 10,861
The government in your world definitely worked in strange ways. A rare gene let people activate powers hidden within oneself- no other having the same. That meant that if someone had flight, no one else had it. Though it was so rare, that it was such a slim chance of seeing someone have that power.
Some people decided to use their powers for their own advantages- these were the supervillains.
Such a cliche, right?
The difference was how the government dealt with it.
Instead of putting these people in jail, they'd simply have the superheroes foil their plans. Odd, right? Well, those who didn't wish to do evil typically volunteered to use their powers- since one couldn't exactly blend or fit into society with the powers they were born with. Therefore, the government assigned them to a known supervillain with powers equal to theirs so that they'd essentially cancel each other out. Neither would be able to kill one another, but the superhero could ruin the plan for the supervillain, but wouldn't be able to capture them and send them to jail.
The reason for this system was as a way to keep both parties rather busy. The villains running away and the heroes chasing after them. It was, in this case, the government could ensure the heroes would be too busy to turn against them, and the villain would be too focused on their archnemesis to focus on the actual government. It kept the supers in a completely different world from them, in a sense where they didn't have to be involved and they'd solve their own problems.
Your power was telekinesis. Your super name was Circe, after the Greek Goddess of magic and witchcraft. Mainly because the first time you displayed your telekinesis, you were thought to be a witch. The first time you did it for your own personal gain was when you were using it at the bank, chatting up one of the workers while the safe was unlocking behind him, and he was none the wiser. It was brilliant- and was one of the best parts of being a villain.
But unfortunately, it was your enemy who foiled your plans.
You practically seethed when you thought to your archnemesis, the other side of your coin, Coder. Oh, how you loathed him. He was essentially a 'glitch' of the real world, able to transport to new and impossible places within the blink of an eye, and all you could see were his pixelated remains before he was right by your side. It was sort of like transportation- but not quite. Transportation was always different. Besides, you remembered how different it was in the beginning- he had accidentally glitched himself to be partially stuck with a plant at his side and had to glitch his way out. You figured it was just nerves since he was the most recently released superhero, only a few weeks after you started your 'rampage', but you never failed to joke about it just to get under his skin mid-duel.
Coder got far better though, and soon enough you were actually beginning to put up a fight. He had a good build- and something was so oddly familiar about him it made your mind hazy.
Supers had a thing where whenever they slipped into their 'true' identities, as many often called it, and out of their aliases, they'd have a sort of haze or charm that hid their face from anyone elses' perception. Sure, you could sense cocky smiles or twinkling eyes- but when it came down to it their identity was hidden, and it was impossible to recognize them. That was unless they revealed it to you. That was known to happen once or twice, once supers had retired or those very rare cases. The moment they announce the news to the world, everyone can recognize them.
They could also tell a friend, but even if the friend told, the spell wouldn't be broken to the new informant. It was weird- but just another part of the gene you supposed.
Besides, it was far better than those ugly masks.
At the moment you were doing something very super villainy- holding the principal of a nearby high school over the roof, dangling him by his ankle over the ledge. Truth was, you were just having a really bad day at the moment, and this asshole spilled coffee all over you at the cafe you were visiting and didn't bother apologizing, instead treating you as though you were the nuisance to his day. So you followed them to work, which happened to be the school, not one you used to go to, thank god. And then you simply barged into the school, stomping through the hallways as the path cleared before you, and dragged the man by his ankles as the two of you floated to the roof. You were face to face with him, and he was begging for mercy, wondering what he possibly could've done. You were tempted to tell him you were the waitress at the cafe that he treated so rudely- but of course, you weren't an idiot.
"Why can't you be like most villains who tell the heroes their plans before they actually do them?" a familiar voice chastizes behind you.
You stop your mid-scolding to turn to Coder, a grin stretching across your face. Despite how annoying and irritating Coder could be, you were especially fond of him. Probably to the point where if some other villain tried to hurt him you'd destroy them, reminding them how it was your job. Heroes and villains had a complicated relationship, sure. On the line between friends and enemies- since they did spend most of their time together. Yet the other could be a complete nuisance.
You were confident Coder felt equally as reluctantly-fond of you as you did him.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," you chuckle, turning around to face him. His suit was black and silver, tight in that way that clung to his body. You might not be able to decipher his familiar face, but you definitely knew that beneath the skin-tight suit he was positively ripped. It made you laugh at the string bean he used to be back in the old days.
"Doesn't answer my question," Coder grins, stepping forward. Silly how he does that, especially when he could simply glitch his way over to you.
"What? I'm not like those other cliche villains you know," you laugh. "I'm just treating this jerk a lesson."
"By killing him?" Coder pouts. "Hasn't anyone taught you about the justice system?"
"There's no justice in this world," you say. "That's why us villains put it in our own hands while you heroes try to stop us like the goody-two-shoes you all are."
"Funny," he snorts with derision. "If you guys were doing the right thing, how come you're called villains?"
"Well, maybe not all of us. But I for one am-"
"Oh, for Christ's sake, can you two stop your flirty bantering and get me down?!" the principal screams, his voice throaty.
Irritated, you turn to him, your gaze piercing and boring into his red face. He gulps as you give the false pretense of a smile. "Sure thing," you grin, releasing your telekinetic grip on his ankle.
He screeched, falling three stories. You tapped your foot, yawning as you stared below as the crowd stepped away from the falling body, Coder glitching below to catch the man.
"You're saved, sir," he said, setting the man down and onto his feet.
"You should've been here five minutes ago!" the principal scolded. "If you were one of my kids here, I'd-"
You floated down behind him, crossing your arms as you stared at the back of his head. The students and staff before the man gulped, staring at you with fear as they pointed to you with shaky fingers. The principal froze, and you didn't need to see his face to know that all the blood drained from it.
"She's behind me, isn't she?"
"Yup," you said, holding your arm out. "And I don't think you're treating the heroes of our city very kindly, do you?"
"C-C-Coder?" the principal stammered, looking to the young man for help.
Coder clearly wasn't feeling so friendly at the moment. "Uh- y'know, I'm kind of already late for a lunch at the moment, and since you already scolded me for my poor timing, I'd figure I shouldn't make that same mistake again. Don't want it to become a habit, do we?"
You flung your arm back, the principal's body flinging through the window of the school and into the classroom. People around you screamed and rushed to the window, careful not to step onto the glass.
You step closer to Coder while the citizens were preoccupied. "Someone's getting a bit less goody-two-shoes, huh?"
He rolls his eyes, giving you a snort. "Yeah right- I actually have a lunch to go to."
"Well, I've got someplace to go right now too. See ya later, Code?" you wink, holding your hand to your forehead as you salute him, waving your hand away quickly.
"Only this once!" he says, reminding you that this was a one-time thing of letting you off the hook so easily. Only because the guy was a jerk, of course.
You roll your eyes, waving goodbye as he glitches away.
Shit, you had to get back to your apartment to meet with your roommate. The two of you were getting Chinese food.
You scrambled to change into your civilian outfit and catch a bus, calling the Chinese restaurant on the way as you finally made it to your apartment complex. You got to the apartment, Jungkook waiting for you on the couch. He always looks so adorable, with his round glasses and bunny eyes. So adorable!
"You're late," he says with a click of the tongue.
"Sorry, sorry!" you say. "But don't worry, I've already called Cass to tell us to get our usuals and that we'd be there soon!"
"You got my favorite, right?"
"Jungkook, it's literally lo mein. It's nothing special."
He gives you a playful pout, eyes like a puppy's. "You always have to make me feel small, huh?"
"No no no!" you say, hopping onto the couch to pinch his cheeks, making him blush and slap your hands away as the two of you laugh. "I'd never want the baby boy to feel small!"
"I'm like three times bigger than you!"
"You're still younger."
"By like, two months!"
"Is that any way to treat your elder?" you chastise.
"Y/N!" he whines, tackling you into the couch. The two of you wrestle, and soon enough he's tickling you, knowing your weakness. You're crying from laughter, begging for him to stop until he finally gives mercy.
"You're evil," you say, wheezing as you try to catch your breath.
"Yeah, but you love it," he says, crinkling his nose.
You try to annoy the fluttering in your chest. The truth was you were in love with him- completely in love with him. But feelings between him and Coder were always tugging at your heartstrings, and you didn't know which to choose. There was one night where you just needed some fresh air, got into your outfit and floated to a nearby building.
Somehow Coder had found you, and for one brief night instead of simply having your usual fights, he sat next to you, wrapping his arm around you as you sobbed into your knees.
"Bad day, huh?"
"I'm just... It's hard, balancing two lives at once, y'know? I know you wouldn't understand since one of my lives is 'bad' and all that so I should choose the good one, but..."
"No, I get it," Coder said softly, rubbing your shoulder as he looked at you, understanding your confession. "Really, I do. Kind of like being two people. Good or bad, it's hard to balance. It's hard to see which one is really you."
"Exactly," you breathed, surprised by how well he understood.
The two of you were in a peaceful silence, neither of you saying anything for quite a while until you finally parted ways, you thanking him as the tears dried on your cheeks. He had glitched away, an embarrassed expression on his face as he left, and you were unable to look at it as a simple, friendly rivalry anymore.
So you were tugged between the snarky Coder and the sweetheart that was Jungkook. Fitting that two lives had two crushes.
You and Jungkook walked outside, walking to the Chinese restaurant since it was nearby to your building. You walked by the nearby Super Store.
And no, it wasn't just some big store. It was literally where they sold merch on the supers. True enough, you guys had fans, and somehow you got merch money from all of the stuff of you that was sold. Probably from the government or something, but you never really questioned how they knew your identity. It was just sort of how those things worked- and you got enough to pay for rent and food and other expenses- so you were fine with it.
"Oh my God- JUNGKOOK!" you say, yanking on his sleeve.
"What? What?" he said, turning towards the window.
There, you saw a fan art poster of you- er, Circe, and Coder. The two of you were were in each other's arms, smiling at each other. As sweet as it was you couldn't help but grimace at how overly lovey-dovey it was. Totally not you and Coder.
"Wait... people are shipping Circe and Coder?" Jungkook asked with widened eyes, gawking at it.
"I know w-they're the most popular anti-duo at the moment but," you gulped. "What?"
Jungkook grinned, looking at you. "Want to get it?"
"Jeon Jungkook, are you insane?"
"C'mon, I know you're a total Coder fangirl."
"Am not!"
"Are too! I saw you drooling over him last time you saw him on the news," Jungkook laughed.
"Absolutely not! He's just a snarky bastard and has a stick up his ass," you huff. "Circe is way cooler- villains always are. She's got telekinesis- mind powers, Jungkook! Mind. Powers."
"You just like her because she's a girl," he accused, chuckling.
"You like her too- I saw you staring at her on the TV as well," you said, snickering. "You looked like you were about to have a hard-on."
"You take that back!"
"When you take back that I'm a Coder fangirl."
"Never!"
"Then I'll just assume you jack off to Circe," you laughed.
The two of you ended up getting the poster.
Jungkook scrambled to put on his Coder outfit, cursing himself. Did he hide it in the wrong drawer again?
He and Circe had an important interview to go to. The first time in recorded history the two would appear on TV together, peacefully, no fighting. Which was fine- they had their peaceful moments away from the public eye. But this would be the first time the public would truly see them not really doing their typical super ways.
The two of them were celebrities anyway, and so it was typical for them to go on separate interviews, getting support from fans and such. Even Circe, since most admired how cool she was and how she'd often stand up to those were generally assholes. Though she'd be overly dramatic and take things to the extreme, putting them in near-death situations. That's where Jungkook- or, Coder, had to step in.
"Uh- Jungkook, I've gotta go to a friends house," you called from the other side of the door. "I'll... see you in a few hours?"
"What? Oh, yeah, yeah," Jungkook said hastily, finally getting his silver and black suit. "See you then!"
"Ok, cool," you said. Jungkook listened to your footsteps and finally the door slam, and let out a breath of relief. He slipped into the costume, making sure everything was alright before, with a snap of his fingers, he glitched over to the TV set.
The TV host jumped, letting out a startled shriek. Coder instantly tried to calm her, patting her shoulder. "Sorry to startle you," he said, an assuring smile on his face. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I guess it was silly of me to think you'd step into the room when you can practically teleport."
"I should've given a heads up," Coder laughed. "Is Circe here yet?"
"No, not yet. But you are ten minutes early. Why don't you have a seat? We'll have cameras rolling as soon as she walks in."
"Don't mind if I do," Coder smiled, going to the couch he supposed Circe and he would have to share. True enough, Circe walked in, her devious smile plastered over her face.
"Guess you're not making the mistake of being late again, huh?" she snickered, taking her seat beside him, leaning back on the couch.
"Well, unlike you, some people actually give me a heads up," Coder smiled, making Circe roll her eyes.
"Where's the fun in that?" she asked. She had a point.
"Oh, this is perfect, guys, get the cameras rolling already!" the host urgently requested, sitting down in the seat adjacent to the couch and smoothing her hair and clothes. Soon enough the red light of the camera was on, and she had her 10,000-watt smile on.
"Now, Coder and Circe! How wonderful it is to have you two as guests on our program," the host grinned. Probably because she knew ratings would go through the roof.
"We're happy to be here," Coder grinned.
"Yeah, it's good not having to rob a bank or mug a dude for a day," Circe jokes, causing Coder to roll his eyes.
The host laughed. "Now, as we're sure you must know, you two are very popular heroes. Any clue as to why you're so popular?"
"My charm probably," Circe grinned. "Though I don't know what it is for him."
"Very funny," Coder groaned, though the smile was still evident on his face.
"Actually, recently I visited the Super Store nearby- I was so surprised to see so much merch and such. I had no clue we were so well received," Circe said. "In all honesty, though, I'd say it'd be from our usual banter. Despite trying to lunge at each other's throats every other day- especially when we first began our careers, I'd say we're close." Even Coder was surprised by your honesty.
The host's eyes lit up at that. "Close you say? And how close?"
"How close are you thinking?" Coder raised a brow.
"Knowing each other's secret identities, by any chance?"
The two supers stiffened at that.
Circe waves her arms, laughing it off. "Oh, definitely not. Simply as we're the only ones who we can properly interact within our true, super identities I mean. I mean, you can interact with anyone normally under the guise of a typical citizen, but definitely not in the case of having powers. So I guess that's what we share in common- especially being the only supers in the area since there're so few of us scattered about."
Coder nodded along, agreeing with every word she said. "She's right. It's exactly like that."
"So, you'd say by that, the two of you have a bond?" the host guessed.
"Call it more of frienemies," Coder clarified.
"Alright, are you aware that many people wish for the two of you to become a couple?"
The two were tense again, rubbing their napes as they blushed.
"I'm... vaguely aware of it," Circe chuckles nervously. "Though I can't speculate as to why."
"I am as well. I've also seen a bit of it at the Super Store," Coder coughed. "It's strange."
"Well, let's check out a bit of what they've got for the two of you, shall we?" The hostess had a grin more malevolent than Circe's as she turned to the TV screen behind them.
Circe and Coder blushed heavily, looking at the provocative fanart of the two of them, sharing a passionate kiss, bodies molded together. It flipped to another picture, one where the two were in their underwear.
Circe burst out laughing. "Oh my God- I'd just like to thank whoever made my body look that good. Really, it's flattering."
"That's what you're commenting on?!" Coder guffawed at. "I'm just glad they made me look realistic."
"You totally aren't that beefy!"
"How would you know!"
"Please, when I first met you, you were basically one of those dancing things in front of car washes."
"I was new!"
"You had the noodle arms of Mr. Potato."
"You guys are so cute!" the host gushed, looking at the two adoringly. "No wonder over 500K voted for you two as a top couple."
"I'm sorry, what?!" Coder gawked.
"Wow, can like, every one of those people donate a dollar to me? That'd be appreciated," Circe grinned. "Hey guys, pay me enough and I'll kiss him!"
"Isn't that prostitution?" Coder turned to her.
Circe shrugged. "I'm a villain- my job is to literally not care about the law."
"Alright, for the final piece we'll have the two of you read a bit of fanfiction written by your fans," the host said, interrupting the usual banter. Two staff members walk up to them, handing the two sheets of paper.
"Oh God, I regret coming up here," Coder said, burying his face. "I just wanted to save the world."
"Um, I don't think your thing is nearly as big as these writers are suggesting," Circe laughed, aiming to embarrass the man on television.
He cocked a brow, providing a smug smirk. "Care to take a bet on that, sweetheart?"
She could do no more than gulp at that, and the host clapped her hands, her way of telling them to begin.
"Should I be the narrator?" Circe asked. "It seems to be from my point of view."
"I want to bleach my eyes," was all Coder could manage to say.
"Alright, guess I'm narrating. You just say your dialogue," Circe laughed. She managed to put on a serious face, although it was beet red. As calm and collected she tried to remain, she still seemed rather embarrassed. "My hands ran over his defined thighs, creeping up to his tight abs and rippling pectorals- wait, isn't that last bit from Hercules?"
"Shh, keep going!" the host encouraged. Circe began to suspect she was the one who wrote this.
"You like what you see, baby?" Coder stammered, burying his head in his hands.
"I-It's so- pppfh, oh God- It's so big," Circe nervously giggled, trying to contain her laughter. "I didn't even know what to do with it- Ok, can I say for the record that I am not a virgin? Just want to make that clear. I know what to do with a- wait a minute is this even appropriate enough for television?"
"It has no curse words- so it's fine," the host assured. "I mean, Fifty Shades of Grey was read aloud, and other fanfiction, on television. So, continue."
"Oh baby, I'll treat you like a queen," Coder's voice continued, more stable than before.
"Coder, I- hey can someone please shoot me- Coder, I need you inside me now," Circe said.
The two exchanged one look, and then burst into laughter, spilling over themselves as they began to cry from having to read this ridiculous piece of work. It was so embarrassing and awkward, and yet something about it made it so, horribly hilarious.
"Alright, I think that's enough for now," Coder said, wiping away tears.
"Can I just say if anyone's the virgin between the two of us, it's him," Circe jabbed a thumb to him as she slapped the paper down.
"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night," Coder rolled his eyes.
"Well, I'm not doing another interview for another thousand years," Circe laughed. "I look forward to fighting you tomorrow to blow off steam and embarrassment."
"Oh, definitely!" Coder groaned, glitching out.
"Wait, wait!" the host said, scrambling out of her seat. Unfortunately, Coder was already gone, and it was just Circe and her left. She looked at Circe, sorrowful. "Was it that bad?"
"No, it really wasn't," Circe assured her. "But uh- I highly doubt it's got the girth of a tree trunk- let's just say that.
You and Jungkook were currently eating popcorn, watching the horrible interview that just aired. You still couldn't believe they had made you and Coder read that dirty fanfiction- though you definitely read it on the bus ride home.
You rewound to the moment of the fan art, a cocky grin on your face as you stared at how they drew Coder. "Hey, Jungkook- you know, I'm more of a Circe girl, but damn, Coder's got more muscle than you!" you joke, jabbing him in the rib with your elbow.
Jungkook sputtered, choking on his water. "Oh dear God- I thought you totally weren't into Coder?"
"We've got a pic of him and Circe hanging in our living room," you remind him, nodding back to what hung right behind you. "So I definitely don't hate him."
"So suddenly you think Coder's sexy?" Jungkook asked, quirking a brow.
"Sure, but I've seen better," you shrug, playing the clip again.
"Really?" Jungkook said, unbelieving. "Who?"
"You're pretty hot," you admit.
Jungkook's silent for a few seconds and you sense a thicker amount of tension between you and your roommate. "You think I'm hot?" he questions.
"I... I think you're a lot of things," you say quietly, unable to look him in the eye. Why was it you were more flustered now than you were in the interview with Coder? You didn't think it was possible to be more embarrassed than you were yesterday.
"Like?"
"I mean, I think you're cute, funny, sweet- more than just looks," you admit bashfully. You reluctantly turn to him, and he seems pale, unable to look at you. Your heart sinks. "I... You know what? Forget I said anything."
"Y/N, do you like me?"
"What? That's ridiculous. You're my roommate," you huff, turning up the volume of the TV. You and Coder were reading the fanfiction now.
"Y/N, you aren't answering the question."
"I'm gonna get some fresh air!" You quickly stand up abruptly, marching to your room. You quickly pack your suit into your small bag, feeling embarrassed and angry and a whole tornado of emotions that you didn't want to deal with at the moment.
You couldn't look Jungkook in the eye as you quickly walked out, knowing your cheeks were a burning shade of red. "Don't wait up for me!" was all you could manage to say, squeaking out the words as you slam the door shut behind you.
Tears are streaming down your face as you quickly slipped your suit on, floating above the city to perch onto a skyscraper. You were the wet kind of mad, where you were furious but couldn't get the words out properly through the tears.
You had accidentally confessed to your crush, and he looked so mortified he couldn't even meet you in the eye.
You hadn't felt this angry since you were, what, a teen? Your adolescence had your mind spinning, and though you hadn't started your villainous career, your powers leapt out in dangerous ways. To the point where you caused a tree to fall and collapse into a house.
And now you felt crushed. It was a stupid crush, but it was so much more. Jungkook was like your best friend, and now you had ruined everything. Things wouldn't go back to being the same, even you knew that. But you had to be just so stupid!
You leapt across to land on the rooftop of a building, too forceful to where some of it crushed beneath your feet, leaving cracks in the cement. You didn't care. You felt as though a fire was coursing through your veins, and all you wanted to do was hit something.
You knew where to go immediately, and you found yourself in the nearby junkyard. Scraps of metal and broken cars. Yeah, this is where you could go to blow off some steam.
"Aye! Lady! You can't be here!" one of the junkyard workers said, marching up to you.
You rolled your eyes, quickly getting one of the long sheets of metal, having it bend before you and slam into the man, trapping him against the fence of the junkyard. He screamed in his makeshift prison, the small dome keeping him captive.
"Shh," you say, hitting your head with both fists. "God, can you please shut up? I'm having a bad day!"
"You know, I was joking a bit about fighting today," Coder's voice immediately sounds behind you, only irritating you further. "But I'm curious as to what villainous plan this leads up to."
"Oh my God, you're the last person I need to see right now!" you say, frustrated. You toss a car to him, and he glitches out of the way, and you attempt to swing it back towards him, only to miss again.
"Woah, a bit more murderous today?" he guessed, surprised by your more furious tendencies. "You want to talk about it?"
"Talking is the last thing I want to do right now!" you seethe, using quite a bit of effort as you lifted another car, an old red Chevy, flinging it to him, he quickly ducked down, the machine flying over his head.
"But that's typically your favorite part of this!"
"Not today, fucker," you curse, flying up to launch yourself foot first, aiming towards his chest. He doesn't even bother to glitch out of the way, instead ducking to the side and grabbing you by the leg and swinging you in the other direction. You land in rubble, your mind dizzy as he steps forward.
"You're forgetting- powers or no powers, I'm stronger than you," he reminds you, his smirk cocky.
"I'm more of a brain over brawn's type of girl," you roll your eyes, ignoring his flexing as you flicked him over to crash into a bulldozer.
"Alright, I'm done going easy," he said, the serious injury taking place. You threw him way harder than usual- you haven't been this rough with him since your very first encounters. But you were too pissed to care.
"You know, if you had just left me alone I would've been fine! I wasn't planning on doing anything bad today," you grumble as he glitches before you, and you have to duck to avoid his punch.
"You're already holding a civilian hostage!" Coder reminds you, gesturing to the makeshift metal cage.
"Oh please, I was going to let him out once I'm finished! He was just annoying me because I was trespassing," you say, sliding to the side as you avoid how he launched himself to you.
He shakes his head. "Yeah, because you were- are, breaking the law!"
"Coder, just shut the fuck up!" you say, exasperated and not in the mood to fight verbally anymore. You stand up, and he takes the opportunity to lay down, launching himself to kick both feet into your chest, sending you flying back to crash into the metal cage, leaving a dent.
He's prepared to launch himself back at you, running forward and lunging. You flip the metal scrap from behind you, switching it in front of you for Coder to land in, trapping him. The civilian you had trapped scrambled away, running as far as he could.
You launched the metal as far as you could, hurtling it to the other side of the junkyard, piles of metal between the two of you.
He glitched before you, and before you know it he's holding you up by your throat, slamming your body against the metal fence. His glare is intense, and he looks pissed. "You're really lucky I'm the good guy here," Coder growls as you gasp for breath, gripping his steely fist. "That I, of all people, was assigned to you."
You manage to crack a mischevious smile. "Why? G-Got a soft spot, Coder?"
His jaw clenches, and he drops you, leaving you to gasp for breath at his feet. "If I didn't, you'd be dead a long time ago," Coder reminds you. "There've been plenty of instances where I let you go when I could've easily turned you in or killed you."
"You're forgetting I've done the same for you," you sputter. "We're equal- asshat. Don't act so high and mighty."
"You know, some people go to counseling to deal with their issues. Not trap someone and destroy a junkyard," Coder says, gesturing to the rubble that had scattered around you, as well as numerous dents.
"Some people also don't have powers," you spit, glaring at him.
"What the hell has you got so pissed anyway? You're usually not nearly this much of a lunatic," Coder hisses.
"Fuck off, why do you care? We're enemies," you remind him.
"No, we're not. We're friends. Or frenemies- whatever it is preteen girls say," Coder sighs. "You and I both know what we are."
"And what's that?" you ask coyly, quirking a brow.
"Cut the shit, Circe," Coder spits.
"Ooh, seems like goody two shoes is getting a foul mouth. Mommy should shove a bar of soap down his throat," you chuckle. "Bet you'd deep throat that shit, huh, Code?"
"Bet you deepthroat worse shit on the daily," he grits his teeth. "Now answer the question. What, did some guy reject you or something? Is that why you're acting like some prepubescent teen?"
You freeze at that, and you feel tense. "Coder- just shut the fuck up. I'm under no obligation to tell you what happens in my civilian life."
"So what- you still want to fight? Round two?" he asks.
"I'm too tired- give me five minutes," you pant, slumping over.
Coder sighs, sitting down next to you as you take a break. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.
"I'm... I'm sorry I'm such a bitch today. I'm not myself- I've just... I made a big mistake today."
"I'm sure it can be fixed," Coder assures you, catching his breath as he leans back into the fence. "I'm sure it's not that bad."
"Oh, it's bad," you clarify. "Bad as in I may have to make new living arrangements."
"...That does sound pretty bad."
"Yeah," you sigh. "So I'm frustrated."
"I'm sure you'll figure it out. You just tend to act first, think later."
"That sounds like the toned down version of shoot first, ask questions after."
"I feel like you'd do that too," Coder chuckles.
"I've never touched a gun in my life," you confess, laughing for no reason at all.
"Really? I mean I have."
"Oh? How come? Saving some civilians from a robber before your career even started?"
"No, it was for hunting. My dad used to take me out into the woods to hunt."
"Oh, my friend's dad used to do the same thing. I guess it's a typical father-son thing to do."
"Mhm," he hums. "I think five minutes passed. Want to fight again?"
"Ugh, do we have to?"
"It's up to you."
"Y'know I've got major plans on kidnapping a senator or mayor- some politician later this week. I've got to conserve my energy," you grumble.
"Are you actually confessing your plan in advance? What happened to not being a cliche?" Coder laughed.
"Shh, I'm tired," you groaned. "And it's the one who basically voted for more kids to get shot in school. Agreed with that lady that porn was the problem."
"Oh, that's the senator."
"Thanks," you say.
"I'll give you a five minutes head start."
"Very much appreciated." Your eyes are squeezed shut, and you're about to doze off until you hear the sounds of cars pull up, and cameras snapping.
"There they are!" A voice cries. You and Coder jump up in surprise, seeing the flock of cameramen and reporters going to you, questions spilling out about the 'secret date' the two of you were on.
"Uh oh," you hiss, looking back to Coder in fear. The tabloids would have a field day with this.
"Later this week?" he questioned.
"Remember you promised a five minutes head start!" you remind him. He glitches out, and you give a flirty wink to the cameras before floating away, quickly heading to the comforts of your apartment. It was the dead of night, so Jungkook was probably asleep already.
You hide in the shadows as you crawl into your window, thankful you left the hatch unlocked. You remembered one time when Jungkook locked it unknowingly, and you had to sleep on the roof because you left your spare civilian clothes inside.
You crawled inside, immediately going to the comforts of your bed, changing into PJs and falling into a blissful sleep.
You're making yourself a bowl of cereal when Jungkook steps out, and you drop the bowl as you see him. You scream, horrified. He's got a bruise on his jaw and a fading black eye. There's a deep scratch along his hairline.
"Oh my God!" you say, eyes wide. "What happened to you?"
"I went outside to look for you, and I ended up running into some thugs," Jungkook explained immediately, as though he were waiting for you to ask.
"What kind of idiot are you? In the big city- Jungkook you're so stupid!" you scolded, rushing to him to brush your fingers along his bruises, examining the injuries. "They really did a number on you- but it seems to be healing already."
"Yeah, they do that," he assured you, taking your hands off his face. "Y/N, we need to talk."
"Let me get the first aid kit. Then we can talk," you huff, grumbling to yourself about how the younger should be old enough to know better by now. You return, immediately putting the ointment on the injuries.
"So can we talk?" Jungkook asks hesitantly.
"Whatever, kid. Go ahead," you huff, already dreading the conversation. Though you were a lot calmer about the situation after the conversation with Coder.
"I know you like me," Jungkook said.
"Thought we got over that bit last night," you huff, not even denying it.
"Well, yeah. But I won't force you to answer. I mean, I already know now but- uh, yeah," Jungkook said.
"Stay still, kid. You want to heal or not?" you scold, trying to hold his face in place. "Yeah yeah, I've got a crush on an infant. It's no big deal."
"I'm not that much younger than you!" Jungkook pouts.
You grin despite yourself. "Shh, Jungkook. Mommy's got to heal your bruises so that you can play on the playground with all your little friends again, ok?"
Jungkook groaned, rolling his eyes, causing you to laugh. "My point is, I do like you back..."
You stop your moments, eyes wide as you stare at him. "You what?"
He looks at you hesitantly. "But I like someone else."
"Oh."
"Yeah..." he sighs. "Trust me, I'd be with you but- I don't know, I'm so conflicted and she's so-"
"Jungkook, I get it," you say, your heart sinking to know he found someone better than you. "So, who is she?"
"Uh... She's a coworker of mine."
"At that engineering company you work at?"
"Yeah, sure," Jungkook coughed.
"Well, I wish you two the best of luck," you gulp. "But if she hurts my little boy, Mommy's gonna whoop her ass."
Jungkook rolled his eyes at that, mumbling, "Sure you could." But you were deadly serious. You'd beat that bitch's brains out, then Coder really would have a reason to send you to jail.
"So, when are you going to see her? Y'know, ask her out and all that?" you ask, finished with his injuries. You were glad you tended to your own this morning, though most of the bruises you had were on your neck and back. Coder didn't leave any on your face.
"Well, I probably won't be able to. At least not for a while. But I'm willing to take my time," he says.
"Mhm," you hum. You quickly change the subject. "Oh, did you see the news! That same reporter lady from that interview did a segment. Apparently, she caught Coder and Circe on a secret date or whatever, which is ridiculous."
"Oh God, that woman's obsessed," Jungkook groaned.
"She's got her own fan account on Twitter. She just made a poll on who's the top between the two."
"Easy, Coder."
"No way, Circe!"
"Let's agree to disagree."
"No way, punk! Coder's a whole ass baby boy, just like you."
"Bull fucking shit! Circe probably couldn't dom to save her life," Jungkook challenged.
"Oh, sure thing, kid. What would you know, you're too young to have that much experience," you grinned.
"You're! Only! Two! Months! Older!" Jungkook said, tackling you as the two of you wrestled on the couch. You laughed, glad that things were completely, and totally, back to normal.
"So you think that some top-notch playboy on the shelf of a local Kroger that a twelve-year-old most likely wouldn't even be allowed to purchase is the reason why we've got mass shootings every weekend?" you question the senator. He was curently very tightly bound in metal bars- you'd like to see Coder's incredible strength beat that.
Where were you? On a skyscraper where you had tied the asshole senator to. Really, you'd take his place in the government if you didn't hate the damn government.
"M-Miss C-Circe, I-"
"Oh, don't call me Miss Circe. That's my mother. Just Circe will do," you grin. That was a lie. Your mother's name was Priscilla. "Or is it because two consenting adults who happen to want to cum? That's why high schoolers have to fear for their lives?"
"Well, that BDSM nonsense isn't suitable for children-"
"That's not my point, senator!" you scold. "I really do wish I had charmspeak or something- but then my name would be Vixen instead of Circe, wouldn't it? Say, that's a pretty neato name if I do say so myself. My point is you can't blame porn for mass shootings. Hell, I can partially understand why some people would say 'people kill people' and that whole stance- but saying porn is the cause is absolutely ridiculous. And so I need to make sure you don't continue spreading that bullshit- because, y'know, as a person who believes sex shouldn't be so taboo- you're kinda pushing it further back. So, like, can you stop please?"
He guffawed at you, and then a beaming smile of relief showed. "Oh, thank God! Coder, sir! Thank goodness you're here to rescue me!"
"I'm only here because kidnapping and blackmail- or threatening a politician, is illegal," Coder says. "Personally I disagree with your views severely."
You stomp your foot childishly, glaring at him. "You said you'd give me five minutes!"
Coder's jaw drops. "I did give you five minutes!"
"No you didn't," you say, whipping out your phone, showing the timer. "You gave me four minutes and forty-seven seconds!"
"What, you want thirteen more seconds to scold him?"
"No, no, the moment's ruined already, there's no point," you huffed, turning away from him.
"Hey, tell you what, I'll give you an extra thirteen seconds next time to make it up to you. Ok?" Jungkook says.
"I doubt I'll be kidnapping another politician next time."
"Well make it a good one then," Coder shrugged. "Now, I've got to rescue this old man because he looks like he's about to have a heart attack."
"Oh please, he's fine!" you say, wrapping a hand around to swing to the other side, your foot landing on his chest as you kicked him off the skyscraper. The politician beside you let out a ghoulish scream as Coder fell, and you rolled your eyes at how dramatic the senator was. As expected, Coder glitched out of midair, and you smiled, turning around to see him glitch before you.
"Should've seen that coming," he said.
"You're getting rusty," you chastised.
"Mhm, sure," he said, stepping behind the senator to bend the metal bars out of shape, loosening their tight hold.
"Hold up! Last time I checked you didn't have super strength!" you say, watching as he undid the senator's bindings.
"I work out- and this metal isn't exactly the best," Coder chuckles, letting the metal fall below as the senator was now free, though clinging onto whatever he could out of deathly fear of falling.
"Sorry I'm not an expert on metal," you huff, flipping your hand with a wave to pry the man off the skyscraper, dangling him over the busy street. You drop him, hearing his shrill shriek as he plummeted down. You and Coder watched as he tumbled down, fumbling, his limbs flying out wildly as though it would slow his falling.
"Spread your limbs, don't curl into a ball!" Coder shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.
"Aren't you going to rescue him?" you ask quizzically.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it. I told you I didn't like him either," Coder says. He glitches away, and you watch as he glitches above the man's body, wrapping his arms around the old man's waist right when he was about to hit a car, and he glitched away. You saw them reappear on the side of the street.
You decided to go home already- confident that the senator would take heed of the multiple warnings you gave him before Coder showed up, and you made your way to your apartment. You quickly float into the window once you get there, beginning to change, half of your costume off already.
"Hey, Y/N are you still in the sho-" Jungkook was frozen.
You didn't even hear his footsteps or the door open or shut- but you definitely spied the all too familiar pixels that appeared around him. And he caught you, your Circe logo still splayed over your chest.
You two stared each other in the eye, putting two and two together quickly at your grave mistakes.
"Oh," you said, your face paling.
"My." His eyes widened.
"Fuuuuuck!" you say, scrambling into your restroom.
"That's not what I was going with!" Jungkook shouts.
"Why the fuck did you just enter my room!"
"I thought you were still in the shower, I heard the shower water on!"
"That's the recording I left for you to think I was still in there!" you say. "So you just glitched into my room?"
"Would you walk places when you can teleport and think no one's looking?"
"Jung-Code- Ah fuck!" you grumbled, quickly changing into civilian clothes as you looked at him. "Are you fucking serious?"
"Any chance you are just dressed up as Circe for an early Halloween costume?" Jungkook gulped.
"GET OUT!" You fling him away, his feet dragging as the door opens and shuts. It locks, and though you know he could easily glitch back in, you keep it that way.
"So I take that as a no?"
It had been two weeks since your last fight as Circe and Coder. And at the moment, the public was freaking out. Whether Coder- their shining knight in white armor- was missing, or perhaps you were actually coming up with a truly devious plan that took so much time to craft. They were worrying over nothing, but two weeks of nothing has them paranoid.
Man, couldn't you have a vacation once in a while?
You sighed, putting down the piece of bread you were eating. Jungkook was watching the news, your fangirl-host fretting over the disappearance of you two.
You got changed, seeing Jungkook's wide eyes at your costume change.
"I'll see you there soon," you say, still unable to look at him. The two of you still hadn't properly talked about it yet.
You quickly made your way to the news station, breaking into the set and in front of the camera. You shoved the hostess aside, who gave a shriek as you went to the camera. "Is this thing on?" you said, tapping against it, the red light blinking. You look to the cameraman for confirmation, and he nods. "Ok, great. Uh- Coder, you big... I can't cuss, right? Coder, you big... idiot. Get here or I'll, uh. blow up the newsroom."
"WHAT?" someone shouts.
You throw your arms up in defeat. "I don't do anything and you guys freak out- I do something and you freak out- honestly there's nothing I can do to please you people!" You sigh, turning back to the camera. "Anyways, Coder come over here. I know you can see this so get over here."
"You're not actually going to blow up the news place," Coder says, glitching into the room, his arms crossed.
"Well, we'll see about that Code- oh what the fuck!" You slap your mouth for cursing on air, but the fact you could actually see Jungkook- er, Coder's face, was so odd. You were so used to it being hazed out in your mind that now you didn't know what to feel. "Oh my God, it's so weird."
"Circe, seriously?" Coder deadpanned. "You couldn't have put more thought into this?"
"It's not my fault all of the people here get so scared when we take a break for a few weeks!" You turn to the host, her legs shaking. "You're the one hyping it up the most- seriously I'm not sure if we have vacation days or not, but we definitely should! I mean, seriously!"
"You just threatened to blow up a news station, Circe. Of course, they're going to be paranoid," Coder rolled his eyes.
"You know, you should've come up with a plan then!" you say.
"Let's go home already," he groaned. "This was a failure."
You swat his arms, eyes wide. You didn't want the people to catch on that you two lived together. Catching on, he coughs awkwardly and crumbles at your feet. "Oh no, you've defeated me! But you won't get the best of me! Come with me, you- er, villain!" He grabs onto your ankle, and the two of you glitch into your apartment.
You're dizzy, stumbling around the room. "How can you do that every other day without passing out? I feel hungover."
"That's because you don't have the power- I got used to it. And don't pull a stunt like that again!" he scolds.
"Yeah yeah, whatever Coder-Jungkook- fuck I don't know what to call you anymore!" you say, groaning to yourself. "By the way, that was horrible acting."
"You know, it's kind of hard to get into the act when your roommates face is plastered all over the mystery girl you've known for years," he says.
"Ok, ok, let's get changed or whatever. It's weird talking to you as Jungkook when you're dressed as Coder," you say. He glitches away, to his room, you presume, and you get changed into your pajamas.
Ten minutes later the two of you are watching The Princess Bride, an awkward silence between the two of you. Both of you were drinking wine. Jungkook from a plastic cup, and you from the bottle.
"Want to talk about it?" he finally asks.
You take a swig from the bottle. "Nope."
He waits a few more seconds. "What about now?"
"Nah," you say, crinkling your nose.
"You know we probably should."
"Or not."
"Or should."
"Damn, you're annoying in both versions."
"Does this mean you will?"
"Sure," you sigh, putting down the bottle. "You shoot the first question as we decipher how we unknowingly lived with the person we beat the crap out of at least once a week."
"So... Have you ever suspected?" he asks, taking a nervous glance towards you.
"What? Never. Coder's a cocky guy and you're like a kid!" you say.
"I'm only two months younger than you!" Jungkook groans.
"And apparently Coder is, too," you say, taking another swig of wine. "What about you? Did you ever suspect?"
"No- but I guess the way it masks our identity is also what keeps us from suspecting. Trust me- I suspected a lot of people, and practically interrogated them trying to break them into confessing. It never even crossed my mind you'd be Circe," he says.
"God, I feel like an idiot," you grumble, burying your face in your hands.
"That's because you are."
You glare at him, flicking his forehead. "Respect your elders, kid!"
"I literally beat your ass like twice a week!"
"Oh please, you fucking wish. I just went easy on you because you're so young," you grumble.
"You just found out Coder was younger than you like two weeks ago!" Jungkook huffs.
"Yeah yeah, whatever," you say. "Ugh, now I know what kind of porn Coder watches."
"When did you find out what kind of porn I watched?"
"Remember that time you borrowed my laptop and it ended up getting a virus?" you questioned.
"It got a virus?" Jungkook asked, perplex.
"Seriously, Jungkook, PornHub's free. But yeah. It explains when Coder choked me in the junkyard," you snickered. "Didn't think you were into that sort of thing."
"Don't make it so weird!" Jungkook said, his face flushing red. "Why can't you be normal for five minutes?"
"You teleport, I have telekinesis, we've been fighting and living together for years- I'm sorry, but what bit of that is normal?" you question.
"So, that day we were in the junkyard, it was because..."
"I..." Your mind traces back to that moment. "Yeah, that's why."
"I'm sorry I made you so upset," Jungkook apologized.
"It's alright. You have nothing to apologize for. You're allowed to feel however you feel. I guess I was scared of our friendship being jeopardized and I was angry at myself for allowing it to happen," you clarified.
"So you trapped a civilian in a junkyard and started flinging cars left and right?" Jungkook quirked a brow.
"I... You should know first hand how bad I am at making decisions," you grumble. "And I was really upset that day, alright?"
"I should know- you fucking wrecked me! You're lucky the super genes or whatever allow me to heal fast," Jungkook laughs.
"I'm sorry about that!" you say, "I really didn't mean that I swear!"
"You hadn't been so rough on me since the early days," Jungkook grinned.
"That was before I had a soft spot for you," you smiled fondly. "And you were such a string bean back then."
"I had just begun my career, you can't blame me," Jungkook huffed. "Although, I don't think your boobs even fully grew out at that point."
"You did not!"
"What? I'm a guy, I notice things like that."
"Jeon Jungkook, you fucking pervert!"
"Technically it was Coder who was looking," Jungkook grinned cheekily.
You tackle him, tickling his sides as he squirms beneath you. "Take that! And that!" you laugh, grinning mischievously as he begs for mercy, swatting at your wriggling hands. At some point, he bucks his hips up, almost as though to knock you off, and you fall forward, gripping onto his shirt for purchase, your faces centimeters apart.
The two of you are deathly silent, realizing what situation the two of you were in.
"I..." you say, slowly getting up, your cheeks burning. "Sorry, I-"
He grabs onto the sides of your face, crushing your mouth against his. You don't protest, pressing your lips against his own hotly, your mouths molding together. He wraps his arms around you at the moment you sneak your tongue in, and your shirt begins to ride up.
In a moment of boldness, you sit up, much to his protest. You ignore him as he tries to reach your lips again, and tug your shirt above your head. He stills beneath you, eyes wide as he licks his lips, hands settling at your sides. "How about we take this to the bedroom?" he suggests quietly.
"What's wrong with here?" you ask.
"Well, for one there's fanart of us right there," he says. Both of you instinctively glance to the drawing that hung in your living room.
"Y'know... the more I think about it, the weirder it is that we've got fanart of ourselves right there," you mumble.
"Yeah... it kind of backfired," Jungkook admitted. He grips you tightly as he sits up on the couch, and walks to the bedroom, carrying you to his bedroom. Your back hits the mattress, and he crawls back on top of you.
"Wait- why's it in your room? My bed is so much comfier!" you say.
"Your bed squeaks," Jungkook murmurs, ignoring your whining as he grins into you, one hand curled into your locks as he licks a stripe up your neck.
You shiver beneath him, mewling at the sensation. "S-Squeaking is sexy."
"Who the fuck says shit like that?"
"Me, duh."
"Fine, if you want I'll fuck you hard enough to make my bed squeak," he murmurs. You feel pressure in the pit of your stomach at that, biting your lip as he started slipping your pajama pants down your legs.
"You need to get naked too, you know," you pout.
He doesn't protest, quickly stripping his shirt off. You can't help but gawk at his rippled muscles, and how fit he was. Instinctively you begin to cover yourself, but he sees your actions and pins both of your arms on either side of your head.
"No fair! You're making me feel insecure! Fanart me was so much hotter," you say. "Can't you gain three pounds or something?"
"Not in three seconds," Jungkook chuckles, delivering a thrust from his covered crotch to yours. You gasp at the sensation, and he gives you that cocky Coder grin. "But if you really want to exercise, I have a suggestion."
"That is so stupid." You roll your eyes. "Now get your pants off already."
He laughs, slipping them down his legs and pushing you further up the bed to press himself against you. You feel his erection a bit better, and you can tell already how big he is. Your eyes widen, and you turn to Jungkook.
"Jungkook," you whisper. "I was just reminded of something."
"What?" he asked, brows furrowed.
"You really don't want to hear it."
"Just tell me already."
"The fanfiction," you admit.
"Oh my God, I'm going flaccid already," Jungkook groans.
You grin deviously, whispering in his ear, "Coder, you're so big."
"You know, under different circumstances that would've been sexy- but then I'm reminded that I'm dealing with you," he says, rolling off of you.
"I thought you were joking when you said you were going flaccid!" you say. "C'mon, Jungkook, I won't do it again."
"Good," he says, lowering himself on your body. You watch as he curls his fingers into the waistband of your panties, yanking them off and hooking his arms under your legs to drag you forward. You moan at the feeling of him licking a stripe up your slit.
He laps at your juices, and you curl your fingers into the boy's locks, spreading your legs wider as he attaches his lips to your clit. He sucks tenderly, and you groan his name at the sensation of him slipping two digits inside of you. You were so wet that they slipped in without any resistance, and you arched your back as he began pumping them into you, curling them into the rough spot as he found your g-spot.
"Fuck, Jungkook you feel so good," you say. He hums against you, and you squeeze your thighs around his head, as though this was how you'd finally get rid of your archnemesis- crushing his big head between your thighs like a watermelon. You feel the vibrations go throughout you, and you throw your head back.
Your orgasm is quickly approaching, and you put on a sly smirk. "That's right, treat your elders, Jungkook."
He slips out of you, and you whine that your prank backfired. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Oh c'mon, Jungkook, I was so close to cumming!" you whine, pouting at him.
He growls, chucking his boxers off as he crawls back on top of you. "You can cum on my dick."
You roll your eyes. "Now you're really sounding like that fanfiction."
"You actually read that entire thing?"
"I told you I found Coder sexy. And hell, I ended up masturbating to it later- the girl's grammar was impeccable!"
"I can't believe you," he chuckles, taking his girth in his hand to run along your folds. You shivered at the sensation as he teased you, and your clit was throbbing and sensitive from when he ate you out earlier. "So what'd I do after I said that, hm?"
You raised your hips enticingly. "Easy: you fucked me."
He cursed under his breath, grabbing your thighs to pry them apart, thrusting into you. You yelp, squeezing around his dick as both of you groaned and hissed at the sensation.
"You're so tight," Jungkook groaned. "Oh, f-fuck."
"Hurry up and fuck me, Jungkook," you urge, squeezing around his dick. "You're younger, you should have more stamina."
You feel him growl against the curvature of your neck as he snaps and twists his hips against yours, making you cling to him as he begins fucking into you. "You're only two months older," he hisses, a grunt and thrust at each syllable.
"Fuck," you say, throwing your head back. True to his word, he was fucking into you so hard that the rocking bed was beginning to squeak at his movements.
"W-Wait, Jungkook, I need to ask you something," you say.
"What is it," he asks, slowing down his movements.
"When you said the other girl you liked, your coworker, was she me? As in Circe me?" you questioned.
"I- what? Yeah, that's her. I mean you. I liked both of you and I couldn't choose between you guys."
"Does that mean you like me?" you grin.
He blinks at you. "Y/N, my dick is literally inside you right now. Shouldn't you know the answer to that?"
You shrugged. "Just making sure."
He sighs, slipping a hand between your bodies to play with your clit, causing you to moan again. "I swear, you're so weird sometimes." He rocks his hips again, and you chant his name again.
You're squeezing and spasming around his dick, causing him to clench his jaw and grit his teeth. "Shit- I'm close. Are you still on the pill?" he asked.
"Yeah. Fuck, I'm so close, Jungkook. Don't stop!" You bit down on your lip, holding onto his shoulders as you tried to stabilize yourself.
"Look at me," he breathed. You opened your eyes, looking at his piercing gaze as he slowed his thrusts to be less sloppy, hitting your sweet spot. He slams his lips back to yours, a sloppy kiss as you come undone. He follows after you shortly, and soon enough he's collapsed on top of you, cock still half plunged into you.
You're both panting, breathing heavily.
"Jungkook, you're heavy," you groan.
"Mm, are you calling me fat?" he asks.
You laugh at that, and force him off of you, rolling him off using your amazing capabilities. He pouts, propping himself on one elbow to stare at you. "That's unfair."
"You're lucky I didn't use my powers for something else. I read one fic where we were meeting your parents and I jacked you off using my mind powers," you laughed.
"How many of those did you read?"
"I dunno. It was a long bus ride."
"You know what power I'd rather have, honestly?"
"A super dick?" you ask, skeptical.
"Already got that," he grinned, collapsing next to you to wrap his arm around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "But that would be pretty genius."
"Ugh, forget it, I don't want to know," you laugh, twirling your fingers in the strands of his hair.
"I'd probably want telekinesis. I'm sure it's useful," Jungkook mumbles.
"Well I can't exactly use it as often as I'd like in my day to day life," you say. "But it can be useful at times."
"What about you, what'd you like?"
"On, invisibility. It'd be so much easier to sneak around places, and I wouldn't have to constantly change in dark alleys or closets. Could you imagine how people would react to see Circe just walking around in her outfit? It's exhausting," you groan.
"I wonder if our kid is gonna have powers," he hums.
"One, it's too soon to start thinking about kids. Two, we already clarified I'm on birth control."
He hummed, climbing back on top of you where your noses touch. "Hey, Y/N, guess what?"
"What?"
"I've got a secret."
"Bigger than you being a superhero?" You raise your brows.
He nods, grinning that bunny smile you adore.
"Well, what is it?"
"I love you."
Your heart flutters, and you wrap your arms around his neck, offering a chaste kiss as you give him an equally cheeky grin. "I love you too, kid."
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aloha-cowgirl · 6 years ago
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I posted a thing! For your entertainment, please enjoy the beginning (but not the entirety) of Chapter 1 just under the cut.
Two years ago, Sam and Jess made the decision to break up after graduation. Though they had planned on going to Stanford together, Sam reluctantly decided to stay in Lawrence after graduation at his father’s behest, and after a year of trying, they decided that neither wanted the pressure of a long distance relationship hanging over them fresh into their college years. They decided that parting on good terms would be better than the slow suffering.
The moment that he said goodbye to Jess, he began to regret his decision to put Stanford on hold. He felt as though his life no longer had direction. The images he’d had of his future all hinged on graduating from Stanford Law, marrying Jess, and starting a family. Instead, Sam spent the last three years studying part time at the local community college while helping out on his free days with the family business, restoring classic cars at John & Bobby’s garage. He had also taken to casually dating girls that were as different from Jess as he could find and he outright refused to talk about Stanford.
 “Come on, Dean. Please?” Sam pleaded.
“Dude, I am NOT going on some blind date just so you can hook up with Ruby,” Dean answered with distaste. Sam’s latest fling was definitely Dean’s least favorite so far. Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“It’s not a date, Dean; it’s a group thing. And yeah, Ruby’s bringing her sister, but Jo’s working tonight and Charlie said she’ll be there too, and I told her I’d bring you. And if I don’t--” Sam frowned at the thought. “She’s like… a really angry kitten. With sharp claws.” He curled his fingers like a cat for emphasis.
Sam knew that Dean wouldn’t have plans, even though it was Friday night. Unlike himself, Dean hadn’t had much of a social life since he and Lisa broke up last year. The split was amicable and the two remained friends, but something seemed different about Dean lately. In fact, he and Sam had somehow changed roles, with Sam now being the Winchester more likely to bring home a random waitress than his once infamously womanizing older brother.
He gave Dean his best sad puppy eyes, knowing that his brother really had no excuse to turn down the offer anyway.
“Fine,” Dean relented, “but you’re paying the tab.”
“Deal,” Sam breathed in relief.
***
Sam slammed the heavy passenger door of Dean’s ’67 Impala as soon as they were parked in the lot beside The Roadhouse. He stomped off toward the door, clearly relieved to have finally escaped the confines of the vehicle.
“Hey! Manners!” Dean yelled after him with false indignation, failing to hide a smirk as he stroked his hand over the car’s roof soothingly. “He didn’t mean it, Baby.”
Dean might have used the 20-minute drive to the bar to amuse himself by mercilessly annoying his younger brother. He’d managed to cover an impressive array of topics in the short time, concluding with Sam’s steadily lowering standards when it came to dating.
“Jerk!” Sam yelled back before swinging open the green wooden door and disappearing inside.
“Bitch!” Dean shouted back, followed by a smug grin.
A neatly dressed man sitting alone on a bench beside the entrance chuckled at the exchange. Pleased with the fact that even a perfect stranger could see the amusement in his brother’s annoyance, Dean called over to the man as he closed his own door and headed toward the entrance, “No respect for a classic!”
“Kids these days,” the man responded with a solemn shake of his head, and a flash of a smile just as Dean threw his head back in laughter and passed through the door to enter the bar, his mood lightened.
Inside, he waved a greeting to Jo Harvelle, the pretty blonde behind the bar, before making his way to one of the booths that lined the wall. Sam, still pouting a bit, sat facing away from the door with the wall on his left side with Ruby at his right, so Dean slid onto the bench opposite. His pleasant mood was enough that he even greeted Ruby with a polite smile as he settled into his seat.
“So, uh, where’s the rest of this group thing?” Dean asked, just as Jo reached the end of their table with a bucket of ice that held six beers.
“Charlie said she’s running late,” Jo commented offhandedly. Sam and Dean both eyed her with suspicion as her cheeks and ears turned pink.
“Well, hi there, Jo,” Dean greeted with exaggerated cheerfulness. “Something you wanna share with the class?”
 “Nope,” Jo answered, quickly turning on her heel and ducking back behind the bar before she could be asked any further questions.
The Winchesters thought of Jo like family, along with her mother, owner of The Roadhouse, Ellen. Dean couldn’t remember exactly when Ellen had first appeared at their Uncle Bobby’s side, but he’d been a young teen. It seemed like she was an instant fit and she’d been around ever since. She and Jo were two of a kind, sweet but tough, and afraid of nothing.
Charlie had been patiently pursuing Jo for weeks now, but as far as they knew, her attempts had so far been unsuccessful and the pair’s interactions had gone no further than friendly chatting at the bar.
“I think Charlie’s persistence is finally paying off,” Sam laughed, picking up his bottle and taking a draw, the annoyance from earlier finally melting from his face.
“Meg’s on her way. Her date’s meeting her here,” Ruby stated without looking up from the text she was reading. Her face twisted with disapproval as she scrolled on. “Castiel,” she read. “Stupid name.”
“I like it,” Dean challenged with a glare, his tolerance for Ruby dipping dangerously low, “It’s different.  Better than some douchebag name like Brady.” Sam huffed a laugh; Brady had been Sam's best friend until he tried hooking up with Jess behind his back and Dean had nearly beaten him to a pulp when he found out. Ruby glanced up, but said nothing. “Date, though? I thought this was just a casual group thing,” he added, recounting Sam’s words from earlier in the day.
Ruby looked up from her phone, one eyebrow quirked upward. “What do you care? You interested? I could probably still make it happen, you know.” She held up her phone up to imply that she could easily arrange such a tryst between he and Meg with a simple text.
“What? Hell, no! I just meant--” Dean stammered. He hadn’t even met this Meg girl yet, but he already knew that he was not even remotely interested.
“Dude, chill. I’m just messing with you.” Ruby laughed, though Dean suspected that hadn’t been joking at all about making that arrangement if he were really interested. “I didn’t know she was bringing a date,” she shrugged, “but that’s Meg. She likes ‘em rich and pretty. Unless they’re really rich. Then pretty is negotiable.”
Dean frowned, deciding that he was going to like this Meg even less than Ruby. Sam had carefully averted his eyes, avoiding the glare that Dean was now burning into his forehead for dragging him out tonight. Dean briefly considered bailing to the parking lot, but decided that once Charlie arrived, he’d be able to ignore Ruby for the rest of the night if he had to.
After a few more minutes of painful small talk, the infamous Meg finally walked through the door. Much like her sister, she was small and dark haired, with a sullen look about her. Just behind Meg stood the man that Dean had shared a laugh with in the parking lot. He had apparently been waiting in the late November chill for Meg this whole time and that already made Dean like her even less.
Dean didn’t know if the guy was rich, but now that he could see him properly, he thought he definitely fell into the pretty category. Castiel was close to Dean’s height, tanned with dark messy hair and hypnotic blue eyes. He had just the right amount of stubble and was currently pulling off a slim-fitting leather jacket, revealing broad shoulders under a white button-down shirt. It wasn’t until Dean’s eyes had tracked from the man’s lips to where he was rolling up his sleeves to bare strong forearms and then to his well-fitted jeans that he realized he was practically ogling the guy. He turned back to focus on his beer, hoping that no one had noticed.
As Meg and Castiel approached the table, Ruby slid out of her seat to greet them, tugging her sister away by the wrist and off toward the bar, leaving Castiel standing awkwardly abandoned at the end of the table.
“Kids these days, right?” Dean commented with an amused smile, resulting in a laugh from Castiel. Dean held up one of the full beers and sat it down on his side of the table, inviting the man to sit.
Sam looked between his brother and the newcomer with slight confusion before asking, “Have you two met?”
The man gave a noncommittal shrug as he slid into the seat beside Dean, smiling briefly at both, “Not officially.”
“Dean Winchester," Dean offered, shaking Castiel’s hand in greeting, “and this sasquatch here is my little brother, Sammy.” The man’s hands were strong, but gentle, and Dean felt silly for thinking such a thing.
“Just Sam, actually,” Sam added, shaking Castiel’s hand in turn. “You must be Castiel.”
“Castiel Novak,” he confirmed. “It’s nice to meet you both.” His voice was deep and his eyes were such an electric blue that Dean could barely tear his own green eyes away.
And damn it, if Dean didn’t have a crush on this guy already.
He shook away the thought, going over all the reasons that made the idea ridiculous. First of all, they’d only just met, and Dean was not some kind of Disney princess falling for the guy at first sight. Secondly, this man was here on a date with Meg, and Dean had no reason to assume that he was even attracted to men. And, most importantly, Dean had absolutely zero experience with dating men anyway. He’d finally come to terms about his own interest in men after realizing the attraction about 3 years ago, but he had never actually acted upon it, nor had he mentioned his revelation to anyone else.
The first time he’d realized that he felt attracted to a man, he had panicked, diving headlong into his first and only long-term relationship with the first woman he met. Things were going well with Lisa and her young son Ben at first but the chemistry just wasn’t there, and after almost 2 years, Lisa finally called it quits.
“So, Cas,” Dean began, “First date?” The three men glanced toward the bar to see Jo pouring Meg and Ruby each a shot of some dark liquid.
Castiel looked apprehensive, hesitating a moment before answering. “I guess you could say that. Actually, I wasn’t given much choice in the matter. Meg works on another floor of the hospital where I work. She cornered me in the cafeteria and told me to meet her here at 8 o’clock because we had a date. I agreed before I even knew what was going on.” He ran his hands through his hair sheepishly, effectively making it stand up even more than it already did. The bedhead look suited him, Dean thought.
“Wow,” Sam remarked with a small laugh. Dean threw an annoyed glance at Meg who was now flirting with a stout man in an expensive suit.
“Yep.” Castiel nodded, “Now I just have to figure out how to tell her I’m gay.”
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