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sirensmojo · 3 years ago

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"KINDRED",6 - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Plot(s), Tommy & Reader being bitches

Summary: You're a reconverted ex war-nurse and join forces with Thomas Shelby to cut the head of the Fascist serpent, Oswald Mosley.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: This is the end of the Serie guys... The next part is the epilogue. II Gina's family is totally OC & It's Tommy POV.

*Masterlist*

❰ Previous Chapter

“I dreamt about a black cat,” Tommy went to sit down next to you, he was so close to you that your shoulders were touching, to his greatest pleasure.

After Polly left him, he stayed in his office for what seemed to be hours. It was his thirst for whiskey that hurried him to leave the room, and after he wandered in Small Heath’s streets & pubs, he conceded to do what he wanted to do since Pol left his office, see Y/N.

She was now in front of him, intently looking into his blue iris while remaining silent, a sign that she was waiting for him to continue.

“Thought it was Michael,” he raised a brow, “You told me it was Gina.” He pointed to her with his hand that was holding his cup of whiskey.

“Now Polly resigned.” He scoffed to himself. He couldn’t believe it was true that she left the company. And the worst part was that she was leaving to be on his enemy's side, Michael’s.

“Resigned?” Y/N raised her brows, quite surprised by the revelation.

Tommy didn’t answer, too occupied looking at the void in front of him. The woman didn’t know the Shelby family for quite long, but they seemed close. It was hard for her to understand the actual situation, and it’s in her head that she was making the additions to fill in the blanks in Thomas’s speech.

“She joined with Michael?” She concluded fast enough to catch Tommy desperately looking at her. It wasn’t simple to read his face, but she was used to him now, and their intimacy made it easier for her to see that Tommy was truly hurt by the event.

Y/N was seated on her knees, turned toward the Peaky head with one elbow at the top of the sofa and her chin in her palm. Her free hand was fidgeting with the tassels of her dress.

It was what Tommy firstly saw when she got out of the car ten minutes ago.

They arrived at her manor at the same time, both of their vehicles facing the other. Tommy got one hand onto his gun that was in his shoulder holster under his suit and Y/N was holding a rifle she kept on the passenger seat.

It was only when they turned off the headlights and that their stare connected that their bodies relaxed, the tension being replaced by the desire to possess the other.

Once out of the car, Tom couldn’t look at anything else other than the dress the Y/E/C eyed woman was wearing, it was a form-hugging grey satin one that reached her knees with a split on one of her legs, revealing some more skin.

At each of her actions, the tassels would move to accompany her figure, which mesmerized Tommy who forgot the reason for his coming.

She lifted her hand to Tom’s arm, squeezing it gently to reassure him. She didn’t want to use words as she knew he didn’t admit to himself that he was hurt. Y/N remained silent a little more before an idea crossed her mind.

“There is going to be a meeting, Tommy. A last one.”

He exhaled deeply and lifted his stare to her, intrigued by the confidence in the woman’s voice. She knew what he was thinking and nodded to him, “A family meeting. I will take the lead. I know exactly where to hit.” Her fingers slide to Tom’s hand as she was brushing the tip of her fingers on his skin.

The blue-eyed man wasn’t saying anything, but unlike any other time, he wasn’t deep in thought, this time, he was trying to read Y/N’s face. He knew she was ready for anything and ready to do everything, but the question remaining was, what?

What did she have in mind this time?

“Did you free Gina?” Tom suddenly asks, with everything that was happening he almost forgot that Y/N abducted his cousin’s wife to get rid of the couple after they treated Tommy’s status in the company.

She shook her head, “I did not do such a thing,” she raised her eyebrows with excitement, “Do you want to know our plan?” She shifted position, straightening back on her knees with both her hands on her thighs.

Tommy knew her, when she was this excited it didn’t presage anything good, and by the fire burning behind her iris, he knew he was right. “Please.” He agreed.

“Michael Gray, Polly Gray, Mr Rice & me, in the family meeting.” A faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips, distracting him a minute from what she just said.

“Mr Rice?” He squinted his eyes, frowning.

“Gina’s father.” The woman began as she poured some liquor into her cup, “He is here, in Birmingham, I’ve met with him today actually.” She sipped on her drink as if everything she was saying was normal.

But the more she was speaking and the more Tom’s brain got filled with questions, and when he was about to open his mouth, Y/N spoke again, well aware that Tommy didn’t understand.

“Remember when I told you that Gina was working with her uncle? Well, her father used to work with his own brother when younger, but he settled down when he met God. So I just twisted his mind into thinking his brother is using his daughter to get to him and... boom. We got another ally.”

“How come you know so much about her family?”

“It’s called socializing, Thomas, you should try it from time to time. When you use the money to get information, I use my pretty eyes.” She winked at him.

He snickered at her remark, did she just criticize his way of dealing with things? No. She proved more than once her benevolence towards Tommy and his business. “So, why do you want my enemies in a family meeting?” The man emphasized the last words to highlight how absurd Y/N’s idea seemed.

“To show ‘em our hand, we got all the cards right there, Tom.” She opened the man’s hand and patted at his palm with her index.

It was still quite peculiar for him to admit that Y/N handled difficult situations ridiculously well, and even more, to admit that she was indeed helping him.

Tommy wasn’t the type to let people get into his business because he was the only one to know how things needed to be handled, but since he met her, she hadn’t done one thing wrong.

She always had the right answers to threats, she always made the right moves, and even if he wouldn’t fully admit it to himself, he wanted to trust her. Even if he was well aware that she wasn’t telling him everything. He respected that, only because her resilience to fight for his business and himself was genuine.

Maybe Polly got it right the other night at the Garrison, he might be loving her.

“What do you say?” The woman’s voice got him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

She chuckled and shifted her position to be closer to him when realizing he wasn’t even listening to her, “Why that serious face?” she asked as the tips of her fingers encountered Tom’s cheek tenderly.

The man didn’t move a bit, paralyzed by the thousands of sparkles running down his spine. He wasn’t used to her being that soft with him, and at the same time, he never wanted to get used to this, from the way her lips were stretched into a smile to the sweet gleam animating her eyes.

“You went out tonight?” He dismissed her previous question. She didn’t need to know that even when being with her he was still thinking about her.

The thing between them was still as fresh as spring wind and he was so used to seeing her being all strategic and untamed, that seeing her smiling and giggling with him ignited something in him.

“It's a women’s night,” She leaned toward him and pecked his lips before getting up. His fingers that were drawing circles on her thigh slid to her hand and she squeezed it before pulling on it, “the night’s still young. Come ‘ere, Sergeant Major.” She mentioned to him as starting to move her hips.

Tommy’s eyes weren’t leaving her figure, he didn't even blink, too afraid she would vanish. Seeing that she was inviting him to join her, he gave her a faint smile.

(...)

Y/N pushed the Garrison’s door and entered, followed by Tommy. The sound of her high heels caught the attention of the people already inside, heads turned to the lovers as they both puffed on their cigs, ignoring the fact they were late.

“Good morning everyone, I’m happy you could all make it. We know there are disagreements between some of you, but business comes first, right?” Y/N took the lead, positioning herself in front of everybody.

In the room we could see Polly, sitting at the same table as her son Michael who kept an empty chair next to him, probably expecting his wife to join the meeting. Arthur was next to the counter, pouring himself some whiskey. Ada was seated by herself, arms crossed, she already looked pissed off for some reason, but when did she not look like that?

To finish, Mr Rice was alone at a table at the back of the room, as if he didn’t want to mix with the people present at this meeting.

The smiles and sweetness that was present on Tommy and Y/N's faces last night was long gone as both of them wore an emotionless cold face now. They stood side by side, but not too close to avoid suspicion about the nature of their relationship.

“Mr Rice, may I introduce you to my partner, Mr Thomas Shelby, OBE.” She waved her hand to the man standing right next to her.

“Michael, this is Gina’s father, but I bet you already met him, didn’t you?” We could sense provocation in her tone, but Michael was too concentrated on wondering why Gina’s father was there to notice it.

“Polly, we informally met each other two nights prior to this day. Nice to meet you officially.” She threw a smirk to Polly before pouring some whiskey into two cups, giving one to Tommy as she sipped on hers.

The man ignored the stares of his family and drank his drink. They discussed strategies before the meeting and he was sure she knew what she was doing, if everything happened as Y/N predicted, he wouldn’t even have to open his mouth this morning.

“Why are we here?” Polly was the one to ask the question that everybody had in mind.

“To inform you about the restructure of the Shelby Company Limited.” The librarian snapped back outrightly. She didn’t miss the face Michael made and the way his chest raised, it wouldn’t last long before opening his mouth, she could tell, and she counted on that.

“According to what I heard, Americans don't want to deal with the Peaky Blinders, so we’re giving them the Bridgehead Corporation instead.”

It was the first time Tommy heard mentioning the name of her own organisation and his side-eye look showed how deep she piqued his interest.

“I got people back in New York that reached to your contacts, Michael, offering them to directly deal with the opium dealer themselves rather than having to have you as the intermediary.” She didn’t even look to the Gray man, despising him for trying to outdo Tommy.

“Mr Rice here,” She spiritedly pointed at the man sitting at the back of the room “...is one of my associates in America, he is here to testify that they will directly link the Chinese to your contacts if you don’t back down your stupid caprice, Michael.”

Tommy’s cousin was looking at the woman with a clenched jaw, and she knew he wouldn’t be able to retort anything because he wasn’t even the brain of his plan, it was his wife, and she wasn’t there.

She smacked her lips, “But we both know that fucking Americans don’t want to deal with Chinese, right, they don’t want to have to talk to them & do all the real job. They want their money fast without dirtying their hands so they can strut around with their big bellies and cigars.” She continued, meeting Polly’s black stare, but she didn’t give in.

She wasn’t scared of any member of this family, she was there to have Tommy’s back which meant she wouldn’t back down. If they wanted to concentrate on the evil things he’s done and be blind to the fact that all he did was for his family to prosper, then she would be the only one standing by his side.

Polly’ eyes reached Tommy’s, breaking eye contact with Y/N. The Shelby's head wasn’t even looking at the crowd, he was looking before him, listening closely to what the Y/H/C haired woman was saying.

“I’m high-society in England, my name’s on the War records. I've worked hand in hand with Emmeline Pankhurst, which make people talk about me even when I’m not there. Add to this that now, I too deal with the Chinese in the name of the Peaky Blinders. If I approach your contacts, Mr Gray, do you think they will refuse me?” She was speaking with a very calm voice, no anger nor pride and no glance thrown his way, she was too occupied lightening up another cigarette.

“Who the fuck are you?” He ultimately let out, to Y/N's greatest pleasure.

“Who the fuck am I? Say the one losing 2$ million in fucking stock market but still think he can lead this company.” She chuckles to herself, and Arthur can only snort at her arrogance.

A freezing silence settled in the room.

“How’s Gina, Michael?” She finally looked at him with a vicious smile, “Oh yeah, you cannot properly take care of her either.” She let out solemnly.

Another silence settled as Polly was once again intently looking at the woman.

She knew from the start she wasn’t a simple “librarian” as Tommy portrayed her, but this was too much of a scene for a high-society person. She was there when Mosley spoke at the Arrow House during the ballet and it was nothing like what just happened.

There was something more about this that she couldn’t quite get.

“Now if you would excuse us, we got a fucking fascist to kill.” She let out before putting one of her hands in her suit’s pocket as she grabbed the bottle of whiskey with her other hands after sticking her cigarette in between her lips.

Tommy watched her leave the room and raised his brows out of surprise, she was something… He couldn’t say otherwise. It was now sure that Michael wouldn’t try something against him, after that speech, he himself never wanted to be an enemy to Y/N.

(...)

*Bingley Hall, 6th*

“What did you mean: damage from the inside?"

“I have a strategy,” Tommy started to pace up and down, overflowed by the number of thoughts in his mind as well as adrenaline filling his veins.

“You always have a strategy,” Jessie Eden continues wiping the dirt off her face in front of the mirror.

“But it’s dangerous, and it can’t be shared without sharing the danger. ” He opened his arms to mimic how dangerous it was while turning to her figure.

“What’s going to happen?” She turned to face him as the Shelby's head began his race again.

He stops right in front of her without breaking eye contact, his head held high, “I’m gonna do a good thing.” He waved his hand as if he was acting. He thought it was funny to put “I” and “doing a good thing” in the same sentence, “When I do a good thing, innocent people get hurt. So go home.” He looked straight at her. “After this evening, we can meet, discuss strategies.” He pointed to the door with his hand that was holding his cap, “That beast… out there he just a beast. He’s like a horse. It’s the rider that decides which direction it takes.” Tommy wasn’t even talking to Eden at this point, it was himself he tried to cheer up.

He was already putting back his hat on as joining the door when she asked, “And who will be the rider?”

“Just go home.”

He opened the door and left, leaving her aghast while staring at the door shutting. She could only fill the blanks in Tommy’s speech by herself. It was him, who would be the rider.

(...)

“Full?”

“To the fucking brim.” McCavern’s strong accent reached his boss’ ears like the most satisfying sound.

He was arranging his collar in front of a glass, concentrating, “Trouble?”

“So far, a few communists. Bowlers helped our boys clear them away.”

“A few hecklers are a good thing. We can demonstrate how we deal with opposition.” Mosley’s voice was calm, not an ounce of nervosity nor anxiety or apprehension in his voice. He was confident, even his usual arrogance could be heard in his tone.

“There’s a rumour a gang of Jews are coming up from Digbeth. No sign of them yet.” The Irish man was watching things laying on the tables as if truly interested in knowing what they were. He behaved as if it was routine for him to stand by the side of a fascist who was about to tell thousands of people it was a minority being the source of all problems in England and preach about how its extinction will bring much fortune to their beloved country.

Mosley was done making arrangements with his clothes, but his eyes were still fixed on his own through the mirror, his head held high, “Well, let them come. Welcome them appropriately” He concluded.

The atmosphere was serene, filled with silence when Jimmy McCavern suddenly felt concerned, finally raising his gaze to the head of the Fascist serpent, “There are a few Peaky boys around.”

Mosley looked at the Irish man through the mirror, tilting his head to the side and clicking his tongue, “They are our allies. There’ll be no rift between us. Keep your powder dry” He exhaled.

McCavern was about to leave when called by his boss, who was now turned to him, standing straight. His vitreous black eyes didn’t blink even once as he abruptly made the Nazi salute toward the Irish near the door, “Perish Judah.”

The Irish scoffed, opening the door.

“No joke, Mr McCavern.” Mosley gave his first and only warning.

McCavern closed the door in a thud and shifted his position to stand straight, making the Nazi salute towards Mosley without any expression on his face, “Perish Judah.”

After that, Mosley came back to look at himself in the mirror, turning his body to the side, a hand on his stomach, probably checking how fit he looked.

The door opened and closed, a dry chuckle filling the silent room, “Shouldn’t you be repeating your speech or something?”

Mosley’s eyes lift to Y/N. A cigarette hanging over her lips. She was wearing a dark suit matching the gleam in her staring iris. His lids closed before snapping open to her long fitted pants that reached her feet over her black high heels.

She clicks her tongue once in front of him, leading him to lift his gaze to hers.

“You shouldn’t be here, I’ll be announced in a minute.”

“Oh, that I know Sir.”

He gave her a faint smile as closing his eyes with satisfaction, he could get used to being called ‘Sir’ by the owner of the suave voice reaching his ears.

He opened his eyes to hers, “Why the black outfit?” He tilted his head to the side, intrigued by the potential answer.

Y/N was smoking her cig, “Preparing for someone’s death.” She offered him a side smile as a heavy silence settled in the tiny room.

He clicked his tongue, not knowing if she was referencing to the people causing a riot or else. He stretched his arm to the door, inviting her to be the first to get out.

Y/N took a step closer, his hand now touching her as she locked the butt of her cigarette in between her lips, her fingers reaching Mosley’s shoulders, swapping the fabrics off of any potential dirt.

She, obviously, knew he didn’t like to be touched and that Mosely would certainly be annoyed by having the smoke of cigarettes so near his face as he despised them, but she also knew how proud he would feel to finally have an intimate contact with her as he loved women.

Mosley grabbed one of her wrists with one hand, stopping her in her tracks. She lifts her eyes to his staring ones, they were devoid of any emotions, as usual. She was quick to slide her fingers in his, the contact-making him drop her hand abruptly with disgust.

Even if her face didn’t show anything, she was internally laughing at how easy it was to play with him and poke him right in his weak points.

“A quick fuck, perhaps?” She teased the man even more.

She knew if it was any other time he would gladly bend her over a table and fuck her while looking at his own reflection, but it wasn’t the time nor the moment. But she also knew he was well aware he wouldn’t have any other occasion with her, which made the torture a little more dramatic.

He broke the stare and by-passed her without even saying anything, slamming the door behind him.

(...)

“Tommy.” Was all she succeeded at saying, her saliva being sticky out of nervousness. She couldn’t believe they were about to do it.

He turned to her, his back facing the mirror. No need to describe how relieved he was to see her radiant face. YN's perfect hair framing her face elegantly as her finger-waves bounced as she took steps further towards him.

The mood immediately shifted, it was light and soft, the sweet exchanges of looks and smiles uncovering their feelings for each other. They couldn’t even hide the fact they were desperate for each other now.

It was obvious to the two, but also to everyone around them, beginning with Lizzie. She refused to see Thomas for days now, hiding in her own house Tommy bought her when Ruby was born.

She wasn’t the only one refusing to see him, Polly never gave news after the last family meeting, but Tommy heard she was now living with Aberama in her house, away from any illegal activities while Aberama still was working with Tommy, looking forward to the time he’d be able to avenge his son by killing McCavern.

Arthur, that was spending way more time than needed at the Bridgehead library, also noticed how close she and Tommy were, and he never ceased to make jokes, which Y/N blocked by slipping in remarks on how he was eyeing her right-hand, Bridget, and how often this latter began to show up late at work.

The insinuation of Arthur having an affair with the employee of Y/N always made Tommy chortle on his drink, while his older brother remained unusually silent. He, that always thought to be so discreet that no one noticed he found a love interest in a feminist, was in fact not so discreet, much to his displeasure. And hearing his brother laughing at him didn’t help.

Y/N inhaled deeply, her heart pounding in her chest that was inflating. Her fingers went fondling the wrinkles at the corner of Tom’s eyes in a tender manner that immediately eased the man, his skin burning under the touch.

He tilted his head, leaning into her caress so her palm would cup his cheek.

He and she knew better than anyone that in this chaotic lifestyle, they needed sweetness. Not that he was okay admitting he found it while being with her, but she hoped it was the case.

“Something’s in the air, Thomas. Be prepared for death.” She patted one of his temples with her free hand.

He opened back his eyes, darkened by something she couldn’t name, his eyebrows furrowed while blinking, searching answers in Y/N’s eyes in vain.

He didn’t understand what the hell she was saying, but it didn’t matter, she was there, by his side, ready to take on the entire world if needed. He was aware of how much she cared and how she was ready to fight till her last breath by his side. And he'll eventually accept he felt the same about her.

The door opened and Arthur’s head picked through.

It wasn’t just Thomas Shelby against the world, it was them against the world. His brother, his lover, and himself.

Tommy coughed and looked at the ground before looking at his brother with squinting eyes. What was so urgent for him to invade their space like that?

Y/N quickly glanced at the reflection in the mirror behind Tommy to see who had entered the room. Seeing the older Shelby brother’s head, she shamelessly closed the gap between Tom’s face and hers, kissing him with strength.

She was surprised to feel Tommy’s rough hands tenderly cupping her face, his thumbs rubbing her soft skin, as he responded to her kiss with as much strength as her.

“We got this, Y/N.” He said in a whisper, without difficulty.

A warm thunderbolt ran down Y/N’s spine as she stepped backwards, her gaze falling on one of her hands gripping tightly onto Tommy’s jacket.

Even if she tried not to show it, the plan was so big and meant so much that it got her nervous.

Her cheeks reddened a bit but the man couldn’t quite grasp at this vision of her as she almost ran out of the room.

Now that he was showing affection, he was making her flee.

Well, he still hadn’t cracked the code to Y/N’s character.

“Come on Y/N, we’ve been there.” Tommy’s deep voice reached her ears in a huff.

“I know but I want you to tell me all over again.” She turned her naked body to him.

He exhaled deeply and lit a cigarette before explaining to her the plan again. He flattened the white sheet on the bed and created a wrinkle on it to show her the stage.

“Mosley and I will be here,” he then put the used matchstick on the sheet in front of the representative stage, “Barney will be up there, waiting for the sign to shoot.”

Y/N frowned and hit his hand along with the matchstick, “get this shit out my bed, this is an expensive sheet, Sergent Major.”

Tom chuckled as he bent over to her to grab her wrists, forcing her to lean all over him, “Come to me reporting for your duty, then.”

She giggled and grabbed his cig, smoking while drowning in his icy blue eyes.

It was routine now for them to share intimate moments late at night. From staying up late in the Shelby Brother Company limited office, looking to the ceiling, Tom upgraded to visit Y/L/N’s manor.

And inevitably, the lust between them eventuated in their bodies intertwining in all different kinds of places.

Tonight was the bed, fortunately for Y/N’s back as their last night’s epic adventure led them outside the house, in the nearby woods.

One of his hands wandered on her bruised body, other marks of their passionate nights along with burn marks caused by her carpets…

His eyes, thirsty of her, followed the path of his hand with as much attention as he would pay to horse racing.

Y/N found the face he made funny. She couldn’t read him, as hard as she would try, but she knew he felt good there, with her, and it was all that mattered at the moment. It was only them in this space. It was their war zone. Here, he wasn’t at the head of a gigantic gang nor the right hand of a fascist, and she wasn’t running a feminist organisation, no.

They were just lovers bearing their soul to each other, as silly as it sounded. And they wouldn’t trade it for nothing.

“Brother,” Arthur called Tommy back to reality. “Know she’s something else,” he raised his brows in understanding, “but Mosley’s been searching you out there.”

Tom ignored his brother’s remark and cleared his throat, by-passing Arthur.

That one didn’t miss the occasion to drop a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “I’m happy for you, brother.”

And as little as this was, it was enough for Tommy to be relieved of whatever was heavy on his shoulders.

The simple fact he still got his brother meant something deep.

He was ready to make his plan shift from his head to reality. By the end of this day, he’ll be at the head of English fascism, following Oswald Mosley’s death.

He will reach his ambition.

Following Chapter ❱

PEAKY BLINDERS TAG: @retromafia

#Tommy Shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x y/n

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bluearson · 4 years ago

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Double Trouble

Request: I see your requests are open and you write ✨ soft Dabi ✨ can we get a little smth for Dabi with an s/o who has a water quirk that sooths his burns to further soft dabi supremacy 🥺 (thank you for all the fantastic fluffiness you have blessed us with 💕) The day started off ordinary. The sound of music filled your ears as you patrolled around your self-claimed “turf”. Life was easy, a little dull but the life of a vigilante with no loyalties was not always boring. Then you saw him, hiding away in an alleyway. He was tall, beautiful even you might say. The scars that littered his body looked painful. You felt almost sorry for him, a quirk that his own body can’t handle. You wanted to help him.

Feeling confident you strode up to him, “Sir?” You spoke out to him. He was almost like a feral cat, he shifted his weight quickly onto his other foot and extended his left hand, blue flames appeared between his fingers. It was like a reflexive survival instinct. Your reflexes were faster than his though, you pulled the moisture out of the air and snuffed his flames out. He watched in disbelief as steam bloomed off his hand. “That’s an impressive quirk you got,” He croaked. “So, what are you? A pro hero?” There was an malicious edge laced into the words he spoke. “I wouldn’t want to rope myself in with such close-minded people.” You scoffed, “I’m better than that. I’m my own boss.” You crossed your arms over your chest as you eyed the flame-quirked stranger. He only grunted in response as he looked you over. You felt like he was scrutinizing you under his eye. “If our paths cross again.. I think I’d prefer having your help.” He was gone before you could even say goodbye. Even though he hadn’t made the best first impression, neither did you. You weren’t sure how to feel about the next time you met him. At the very least you hoped that you wouldn’t be on the wrong side of his flames a second time. You shuddered at the thought. You caught a glimpse of him walking down the street together with a girl much shorter than him, she rather cute. You wondered about what relationship they must have had. They seemed like good friends at the least. She was very animated and clung onto his arm as they walked together. Secretly you wished you could be her, clinging to his arm as you strolled through the city. That was another fantasy to write about in your journal. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been infatuated by someone but man.. you really wanted to be at his side. The universe seemed to have enough of punishing you when one day you heard a voice calling out to you, you looked over your shoulder as you took a long swig of water from your water bottle. You flashed the familiar figure a smile as it came fast approaching. “I missed you.” “I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long, sweetheart.” He teased. “I like what you have to offer. I think we could make a pretty good alliance.” The words sent your heart a fluttering. Alliance? He wanted to form an alliance with you? “I would like that..” You extended your hand to touch his forearm, looking up at him as though you were asking permission to touch him. Your fingertips grazed his skin softly. When he didn’t move away you allowed your hand to settle on his rough skin. “Does it ever hurt?” You asked as you examined where the stables met his skin. “Sometimes.” He answered quietly, as though he was sharing a secret with you. “Do you have somewhere we can discuss this privately? I hate being out in the open too long..” He rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes darted around. “Yeah I have a little hideout where I make deals.” You turned on your heels and made a beeline for the hideout before you could even see the look on his face. Once inside you fastened the series of locks that prevented squatters from breaking in when you weren’t around to protect your secret base. You told your new partner all about your quirk, nearly professing that you held a flame for him once or twice as you tried to explain how useful you could be to him. You had experience teaming up with criminals before. Together you were a force to be reckoned with, especially since you could stay hidden as you supported Dabi from the shadows. You began to notice he’d start doing little things for you. You even took note that his arm stopped sizzling as much after a fight, usually you tried your best to keep up with him but there was only so much you could do while trying to not seem like a shady person carrying around several gallons of water. Still you felt like your efforts were always appreciated, even if they weren’t up to the standards you wanted every time. You lived for the way he’d pat your head as steam rose off his arm. The way he’d smile at you even for a brief moment. “I love you.” You said to him one day as he smoked his morning cigarette. You were enamored by him, utterly and totally captivated by everything he did. “I’m glad we’re apart of each other’s lives.” You quickly added. The raven haired villain took a long drag before exhaling the smoke, you watched as some slipped through the staples in his face, it looked as though he was a dragon breathing fire. “I’m glad you’re around.” He tore his eyes away from yours and you felt a little deflated. You wondered if there was ever a chance he’d see you as something more than just his “sidekick”. You wanted to ask him if he was single or not, about that girl you saw him hanging out with all those months ago. It never seemed like the right time, nor the right place. You didn’t want to ruin a good thing. Things didn’t change between the two of you after your little outburst. You still couldn’t push your feelings aside for him, no matter how hard you tried. “Dabs, do you try to push me away because you don’t think I can be a good villain?” It had been on your mind for a while, the way he seemed to keep you at arms length even though you both shared a common goal. “You don’t need to protect me if that’s what you’re trying to do. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself and holding my own.” Your eyes searched his for an answer, for a glimmer of emotion under the tough guy act he held in public. You knew him long enough to see right through him. Every mask he wore. Every layer he tried to mask his true feelings behind. You wanted to tear all those walls down for him, to hold him in your arms and play with his hair. To be vulnerable with each other and raise hell together. If he wanted to watch the world burn you’d gladly fan the flames of his ambitions and further his goals. You wanted to see him succeed in everything. For the world to know that there was nothing that could stop him with his partner in crime by his side. He just stared back into your (E/C) eyes, a sad look washed over his face. He couldn’t just say you didn’t understand, you knew about his ideologies. You supported him with every fiber in your body. He cupped the side of your face, rubbing his thumb against your smooth skin. For once he didn’t have a snarky comeback to bite back at you with. You two just stood there, staring into each others having a silent conversation. It felt as though you two were trying to telepathically communicate with emotion what words couldn’t possibly convey. It lacked the power to truly grasp the full breath of the things you wanted to tell each other. Dabi pressed his forehead against yours, “I don’t ever want you to act recklessly because you’re following behind me. I never want you to get yourself hurt trying to keep up with me.” He paused, and brushed a lock of hair out of your face. “I know my own limits, and I know when I’m pushing myself too far. You don’t need to worry about me like I’m some.. fragile kid. I’m not made out of porcelain. I’m made out of flesh and bone, muscles.. and I’m a lot more sturdy than I might look.” You laughed lightheartedly, trying to lighten the mood. “I appreciate the fact that you’re looking out for me Dabi.. but I can only do so much if you keep me at arms length. I want to be your equal.” “You always were.” “Then let me in. Open up to me. Talk to me for fucks sake.” “I think actions speak louder than words. Words get jumbled.. twisted.” He tore his eyes away from yours as he looked off into the distance. He seemed so far away and you let him have his moment to reflect. “You’re too valuable to me. You help the pain stop. I’ve gotten too used to it Y/N. You know you’re really cruel sometimes..” He toyed with a lock of your hair. “You’ve got me hooked on your special little treatment and now I can’t stand the thought of you no longer being apart of my life. You’ve made yourself essential to my personal comfort.” You pulled him into a hug, squeezing him gently as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. It took a moment before he wrapped his arms around you in kind, his body was warm. “How do you think I feel?” You chuckled as you shook your head, “I’ve always been fascinated by you Dabi, ever since the first day I met you. I’ve never been able to get you off my mind for even a single second to myself.” “Damn..” You felt a rough kiss being planted onto the of your head. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you in my life?” He chuckled. “Don’t ever say I never loved you. You just weren’t looking close enough. Too caught up in your head to realize I’ve been saying it ever since I agreed to let you into my life.” You said nothing as you simply enjoyed his embrace. Drinking in his scent as you let his warmth envelop you whole. “Wherever you go, I’ll be close behind. Damn all the consequences. There’s no place in this world I’d rather be than with the man I cherish. I trust you with all of me, Dabi.” You planted a kiss on his cheek. “When you’re finally ready to entrust all of you, your baggage, scars, and whatever else you’re hiding away from. I’ll be there, to help ease your pain.” You took his hand and raised it to your lips, planting a firm kiss into his skin. Taglist: @some-kindofgnome @humanitiesstrongestchicken @hecatve @axerrri

#Lighting the Bonfire #Dabi #Dabi bnha #Dabi x Y/N #Dabi x Reader #Dabi fanfic #soft Dabi

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justimajin · 4 years ago

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Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.4

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (4.1k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphic descriptions of violence and blood, major character death

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, January 12

You and Namjoon return back without much of a word exchanged.

The stifling silence lingers longer than its welcome, and there’s occasional swaying of your eyes, hastily scanning over Namjoon’s features. Moments like this make you wish you could figure out what was churning inside his head, the knowledge of his thoughts easing your work by tenfold.

But alas, Namjoon is the heir to the Kim Empire. Although you have a carefully constructed image of him in mind, he has only been kind and considerate to you, and volatile when the situation calls upon him for action. Something that makes you truly wonder if you’ve been able to assess his character properly at all to this point.

Entering the house, you plan on heading back to your bedroom and reporting back the information you’ve obtained ‒ until a hand covers yours against the doorknob.

You swivel, brows knitting together. Your breath immediately hitches, noticing how Namjoon is just inches away from you.

He simply stares at you for a moment, like he was deciphering a puzzle. Lips moving, out escapes a question that you weren’t expecting.

“Why are you trying to be a part of this?”

Your eyes enlarge and you rattle through your brain for the clearest of answers.

“This is your work...I just wanted to know more…” As if on instinct, you attach your role to it. “A-As your wife.”

Namjoon’s lips draw into a line, and there’s a heavy crease forming in between his brows. A soft ‘tick’ leaves him as he spins around, planting a hand on his temples.

For a second, you’re not sure what to make out from the gesture. In fact, you can’t recall if you’ve seen Namjoon like this before, especially towards you.

Hesitating for a moment, your hand begins to slowly advance, moving towards his shoulder.

He whirls around and you retract it in an instant.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs when Namjoon clasps onto your hands, desperation reigning heavy in his eyes and rendering you immobile.

“Please, don’t.” His voice cracks and your gaze instantly latches onto his, “I‒.…I don’t want you succumbing to it too.”

Confusion swirls in your eyes and Namjoon exhales, fluttering his own shut. “The work I do‒the work I continue on from, it’s not the most pleasant...”

“And…it’s something that’s completely broken my family.”

Your pupils flare and Namjoon opens his eyes, tenderly gazing at you.

“They act as if they don’t care much about the business or about controlling it, when in reality it’s all they ever concern themselves about.” Namjoon explains, “When we got married and you had dinner with them….I saw the family I knew before I became the heir, the ones that hadn’t let this business take precedence over everything else…”

He continues, anguish leaking into his words, “I….I don’t want things to be the same way with you.”

Your eyes don’t leave him and the pulse of your heart rate steadily increases, almost doubling when Namjoon squeezes your hands.

“Get involved in something else, please.” He pleads, “It can be anything, just‒…”

There’s a moment of hesitation, before he decides to be completely truthful. “Just know that my hands are the ones that have been tainted enough.”

You harshly suck in a breath, warmth rapidly radiating over your skin. Namjoon expectantly stares at you, waiting for an answer that you can barely conceive.

Swallowing hard, you nod in response. His shoulders deflate with relief and a genuine smile spreads across his features, but all it serves to do is make the sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach worse.

I’m sorry, Namjoon.

You weren’t sent here to not get involved, you weren’t trained and tasked with the mission of relaying information back, seeking an infiltration rather than a relationship from your marriage.

Picking up the familiar box and hearing the static that reigns out, you patiently wait for the signal to correspond. The thought of Namjoon holding your hands and begging for you to delve deeper elsewhere because of the impact on his family, pangs through your mind more than you would like.

The signal is sent through and you prepare yourself, placing your hands on the box.

But for the first time since you’ve been married, you hesitate.

“W-What?”

You wonder if your ears heard right, but the remorseful look on your parents suggests otherwise.

“We’re sorry, Y/N....” Your father states, turning his back without a second look in your direction. Your mother follows suit, not foregoing a glance either.

You stand frozen, pupils latched onto their disappearing backs. Water begins to surface within your eyes and the door begins to slowly close behind them, all traces of light cutting off.

┈

“Again!”

The voice roars in your face, a wince running through your shoulders immediately.

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking a-about…”

His hand immediately grabs onto your chin, pushing you forward. Your breathing is uneven, eyes wide with fear. “This is the face of a liar? Say it firmly!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You swallow hard and the daunting man in front of you seems satisfied for once, stepping back to look through the thin glass on the other side of the room. You don’t dare look, accepting that you were merely a puppet whose strings had to be pulled the right way.

At the sound of approval from the glass, there’s a smile that curls on his lips as he turns to face you again.

┈

“I-I can’t…”

A hand slams against the metal table you’re sitting at and you jolt, “A woman tells you she has information regarding the Kim’s and you need to get it out of her.” He nearly snarls in your face, “What. do. you. do?”

You almost feel like you’re being suffocated, but the answer slips through your lips after being drilled in there for a thousand times.

“E-Exploit her weaknesses.” You squeeze your eyes shut, “Guilt her into thinking she can trust me…”

He steps back, staring down at you with cold eyes. His gaze would make you waver, gawk at something else until it was over, but you raise your eyes, staring back at him without hesitation.

A smile curls on his lips when he notices you’re beginning to hold the same coldness in your eyes that he has.

┈

“AH!”

You clasp your hand around your shoulder, the throbbing radiating all the way through your back. A punch is thrown your way and the grimace you hold vanishes in an instant.

He scowls, “Keep your eyes on your opponent, Y/N!”

“S-Sorry…”

A hard kick lands on your leg and you immediately collapse, a pang of pain shooting down where your hands grasp on.

“What did I say about apologizing?!”

Your mouth remains sealed shut and you attempt to get up, ignore the wobbling urge your knees have. Another punch is thrown in your direction and although clumsily, you manage to defect it in time.

A wide grin spreads over his features.

┈

“I-I can’t do this...I-I can’t…”

His voice is far from gentle, “Y/N.”

“I was never meant to be a spy.” You plead, “I-I can’t do any of this…”

“Y/N.”

Your voice cracks, “I-I just want to go home…”

Your fingers are forcibly pride open, the cold metal jamming into your skin. Despite your protests, your arm is lined up in front of you, the man on the chair cowering away with wide eyes.

“This is your job, Y/N.” He states coldly, “If circumstance calls for it, you will have to do this.”

There’s a group of individuals behind him, all carefully observing you like some sort of lab rat. Your hands tremble uncontrollably and there’s a sick feeling in your stomach, but despite all that, you know there’s no way out.

You’ve pleaded with him. You’ve pleaded with your parents - who aside from concern-filled faces, turn away with a blindeye.

There’s no use. This is who you are now.

“Y/N.” Your instructor scowls, “Shoot.”

Hot water rolls down your cheeks, the weapon threatening to slip away from your hands.

“Y/N.” His voice grows louder, commandful in nature. He doesn’t tell you what to do anymore, instead he glares, the silence in the room being daunting enough.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you try not to think about how terrified the man in front of you looks.

Your body propels backwards, and you’re sent flying until your back smacks against the wall. The metal slips from your fingers and you can’t bear to open your eyes, the scent of blood already alerting you of your lethal actions.

The sound of footsteps coming closer greet you, and you don’t even need to look at him to see the smile that curls on his lips.

His words are laced with satisfaction and pride, but they only serve to increase the emptiness inside you.

"You're a tool now, Y/N. From on, you must follow our every instruction and order."

Like a robot, you solemnly nod. The mayhem of your doing is dragged away from the room, leaving behind a steak of crimson against the ground.

From there on forth, the nightmare begins.

Your eyes shoot open, a harsh gasp leaving your lips. Glancing rapidly around, you notice the wide two doors in your direct view and the luxurious bed that sits in the corner of the room.

Your heavy breathing begins to still, shoulders slowly sinking down. There’s a silky texture against your skin that shifts, the length of the maroon gown pooling onto the ground.

You sit up straighter, mind still dazed.

Namjoon walks in, adjusting the cuffs to his suit with a deep frown. His eyes flicker up on you at once, a smile of relief tugging on the corner of his lips.

“You’re awake?”

It takes you a second to register his words, but after a moment you nod. “I hope you’re not feeling too tired to come with me.”

Shaking your head, Namjoon grins and you rise from your seat. He lets you loop your hand around his outstretched arm and you attempt to void your mind, aware that you’ll be spending the rest of the evening underneath a scrutinizing spotlight.

***

The night swiftly passes by, individual's intermingling and conversing amongst themselves. You remain latched onto Namjoon’s arm, following him around as he greets members and thanks them for coming. Save for the chance encounter you have with his parents and a brief run-in with one of the company managers, your eyes continue to stay glazed over.

Namjoon seems to notice right away and for once, you don’t question the motive behind his intention.

“I’m fine.” You ease when he piques if you’re fatigued from the gathering. A waiter passes by you and you instantly reach out, reluctantly grabbing onto a glass of wine.

Namjoon doesn’t question you again, but when he rounds the corner and heads towards a group of four familiar individuals, you’re grateful for picking up the beverage.

Contrary to previous encounters, the shareholders don’t appear utterly offended nor hostile by your appearance. You presume that to be a good sign.

“It’s about time you showed up.” Yoongi quips. Namjoon sheepishly smiles, and Hoseok chimes in.

“Have you heard anything about the recent deal?” He quirks up a keen eyebrow and Namjoon advances forward, beginning to explain into detail. Although intrigued, you take occasional quiet sips from your drink, making no move to intervene.

“How have you been this evening?” You blink for a moment, before turning in astonishment towards the source of the voice.

Taehyung takes a sip out of his own drink, eyeing you for an answer. “I’ve been alright.”

“You seem tired.” Brows furrowing, you glance at him peculiarly, wondering if it was truly obvious.

“I’m just a little under the weather.”

He hums, continuing to drink from his glass and standing near you during Namjoon’s explanation. It draws curiosity out from you, but there’s a bitter taste lingering on your lips.

You draw your upper and bottom lip together, smacking them together with puzzlement. Your stomach churns, the acidity in your throat abruptly spiking up and overwhelming your senses. A sudden wave of vertigo hits you out of nowhere, nearly causing you to trip.

Two hands shoot out to steady you immediately.

“Y/N?”

Although you recognize Namjoon’s voice, your response is cut off the moment your hand reaches up to cover your mouth. His grasp on you tightens, and before you know it, you’re being led out of the room immediately.

You can’t recall where Namjoon brings you, but you can feel the cool texture of a wall against your hands as you attempt to steady yourself. There’s still a hand covering your mouth and Namjoon leans in closer, whispering underneath his breath.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Oddly enough, his calming voice is a lot more soothing to listen to compared to the bustling mixture of sounds coming from the gathering.

You nod, shakingly letting out a breath. “I-I almost felt like I was going to throw up.”

Namjoon sharply gazes at you with alarm and although you seem to be doing better, his grasp never leaves you.

“Do you want to go home?”

Your involuntary assumption is to first contemplate. Contemplate on whether or not it would be a smart move on your part to not be here by his side when he’s clearly interacting with important individuals. But unfortunately, the acidity tickling your throat seems to have an agenda of its own.

Letting out a sharp cough, you nod and Namjoon instantly looks around for an exit.

“Namjoon!” A man stands at the end of the hallway, tilting his head in confusion, “What are you doing out here?”

You recognize him as Kim Yooseon, one of the company’s deal makers. You hear a sound of dismay leave Namjoon and with a heavy sigh, you tug on his suit’s jacket.

“Just drop me by the entrance.”

Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to protest, “But Y/N‒”

“It’s okay.” You reassure, “It’s more important for you to be in there compared to me. I’ll manage.”

Namjoon appears to be caught in between agreeing with you and on the verge of letting out a string of protests. However, when you pleadingly glance at him, he can’t seem to say no.

He ends up dropping you off with his driver just like you had requested and with a persistent gaze, leaves without another word. The moment he vanishes, you let out an audible breath, the proximity he was holding you on top of your nausea becoming more overwhelming then the urge to let your insides all out.

You’re luckily dropped off back at the house in silence, only seeking out assistance from the driver for a bag in case the urge abruptly hits you in the midst of the ride. He questions if you’re alright and you quickly reassure him just like you had done with Namjoon, before hiking back to the house with swaying feet.

Alarmingly, another wave of vertigo washes over you, this time with an aftermath of a throbbing sensation cascading through your head. Your stomach swirls at the same time, the hurling urge returning at full force.

It’s only when you cradle your stomach with your hand and rest against a wall that your vision begins to blur, eliciting a sudden rush of panic that you’re ultimately faulty at coping with. Your feet mismatch and you collapse onto the ground, right in front of the house you needed to be in.

As your eyes begin to droop and lull back, the sound of heavy footsteps greet your ears.

***

Your eyelids slowly flutter open, the sight of crystals hanging from the ceiling greeting you. The familiarity strikes you at once, and you instantly scramble up onto your hands.

You’re sprawled out on the ground, still wearing the maroon gown from the evening.

“I never knew the L/N’s tried to create their own spies.” The deep voice halts your movement, a trail of goosebumps spreading over your skin, “Not a bad move, if I do say.”

You don’t spin around right away. Instead, you slowly turn your head to the side, the sight before you distorting your breathing pattern.

Your body violently trembles and the delicate maroon material you adorn is fisted within your hands.

He stands against the wall, a familiar box in his hands and the door to the bedroom sealed beside him. Cocking his head to the side, he sends a smirk in your direction.

“How stupid did you think the Kim family is?” A playful look dances in his eyes, “Are we that easily fooled?”

At your quivering silence, Taehyung grows dismayed. “According to you, I guess we are.” The sound of metal alerts your ears right away and your eyes grow wide, fixating on the sharp object in his hands. “But don’t worry, you won’t be able to trick anyone after this.”

You roll over in a flash, instincts thankfully taking over for a split second. Taehyung sighs, yanking out the curved knife from the ground before whirling around and lunging for you again. You’re able to evade him again, rising up onto your feet.

Your heartbeat petrifying thuds against your chest as you glance around, mind becoming erratic.

Taehyung sighs again, unclasping the knife in his hands and placing it back into his pocket. For a moment relief fills you, but it’s short lived when a revolver emerges out instead.

He points it towards you, holding onto the same expression as the first time he aimed a gun in your direction.

You attempt to swiftly move out of the way, but you’re not as lucky this time around.

A loud cry escapes your lips and you collapse onto the ground, a pulsing sensation radiating from your left leg. Tears begin to emerge in your eyes and Taehyung appears relieved for once, satisfied he won’t have to chase or hunt you down for this to end.

He aims the gun down at you. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

The sound of firing echoes through the walls, and the remainder of the bullet clanks onto the ground.

Nearly having scratched the surface of the polished floor.

Taehyung’s eyes are wide and your hand tightens on the metal, having successfully knocked him down with your body weight. His irises darken considerably and a small grin tugs on his lips.

“What are you waiting for? Shoot.” He chuckles boisterously, like he’s isn’t the one currently on the ground and being confronted with a gun.

Your mouth twitches, the hot excruciating throbbing in your damp limping leg tingling through your skin. The ends of your fingers tremble the slightest, and it’s something Taehyung doesn’t ponder to take notice of.

“I knew Namjoon shouldn’t have married a L/N...all of you are always the same....” A devil-like smirk crosses him, voice dropping into a low whisper, “Weak.”

Abruptly, he’s off the ground, smacking the back of your elbow to loosen your grip. Thankfully, you latch onto the weapon tight enough, gripping it away from his preying hands.

An echo murmurs through your head.

“….if you ever are found out, Y/N…..

....at the split second in discovering your true nature….

He successfully snatches the gun, propelling the hammer back in a hurry.

….you cannot choose hesitation….

...and the evidence must be destroyed….”

Once the gun is pointed right against your temples, you hope that Taehyung has prepared himself for a rude awakening.

A hard punch lands straight on his nose and you grasp onto the gun, aiming it straight for him.

Taehyung’s eyes are wide, and for the first time you can see fear in them.

Fear of the emerging coldness that resides in your own.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you fire.

The sound of a thud greets your ears, and the reeking stench of freshly spilled blood is enough of an answer for your actions.

***

Small huffs leave your lips, body limping as you walk out of your bedroom. Red residue coats your hands, dripping down your leg as you apply pressure to the metal embedded into your skin. Your other hand still tightly grasps Taehyung’s gun, keeping it securely by your side.

Slowing turning around, you glance over your shoulder at the corpse on the ground. A grimace runs through your features, but it’s accompanied by a hiss as blood continues to trickle out of your wound.

You begin to limp ahead, continuing to move forward.

A tray clatters against the ground.

You flinch, dilated pupils glancing up and preparing for defense. However, your breath hitches in an instant, terror pooling into them instead.

Eunjoo stands before you, her shaky hands reaching out to cover her mouth.

“M-Miss Y-Y/N…?” Her eyes have grown in size and your breathing becomes erratic as they continue to soak in the red staining your gown along with the gun in your hand. That’s when her trail of sight freezes, latching on the body behind you that you have yet to dispose of.

In that split second, the fear in her eyes morphs into utter rage.

“Y-You…” Her chest heaves, face flushing red, “Y-You’re a spy.”

A pang of pain throbs through your heart, “Y-You’ve been a spy this entire time!” Disbelief strikes her, the dots beginning to loosely connect, “Betraying the trust of M-Master Kim...”

Eunjoo’s voice cracks and your eyes screw shut at the sound.

“A-And me…” There are a thousand regrets laced in her bitter words. Tears begin to form in your eyes, but you fight back the urge to let them drip down your cheeks.

The sharp sound of silver suddenly greets your ears. You jerk your head up, ignoring the way your vision has started to blur.

Eunjoo stands in front of you, a butter knife in hand. You’re not given a chance to react one bit when she charges right at you with a cry.

She’s unarmed and pinned to the ground in an instant.

You aim your gun straight at her.

Struggling for a moment, you notice the tears running down her cheeks and the soft sobs escaping her lips.

“W-Why, Miss Y-Y/N? Why?”

As she pleads, her frantic state mimics your own. You can’t hold the tears at bay anymore, your bottom lip quivering as they uncontrollably stream down your flushed skin.

After a pregnant silence, you choke out the words, “B-Because there’s no other way…...”

Your vision has blurred over entirely, “I’m sorry, E-Eunjoo…..but you’ve seen too much….”

Unlike Taehyung’s eyes, Eunjoo’s aren’t filled with either fear or horror. Instead, there’s just lingering disappointment, and for some reason that makes your heart tighten even more.

Your hand trembles as you place your finger on the trigger and for once, you keep your eyes wide open when it’s pulled.

***

The floors are shimmering, a near pearl hue twinkling from their surface.

There are void from any pieces of glass, the silverware properly tucked away. No scratches litter the outside of your bedroom door, and there are no remains of a static box leftover.

You steady yourself against the bathroom wall, sliding down until you’re fully seated on the ground. Disinfectant in hand, your leg is raised, now angrily blotched with murky dark red cracking around the small metal pocket.

Once the area stops stinging and is finally clean, you shakingly inhale, before digging your fingers into the hole. You harshly bite down onto your teeth, a silent scream ready to erupt from the bottom of your throat.

Metal clinks onto the ground and your shoulders visible relax for a moment, before you take out the disinfectant again. This time around, a sharp needle is plucked in between your fingers.

The echo of footsteps entering the front door halts your actions, freezing you in place.

Abandoning the needle, you quickly peer around, confirming that the door was locked. The footsteps continue to grow in sound, and with a haste opportunity, your vision fixates onto the shower tap.

It’s not long before a knock resonates against the door, “Y/N? Y/N, are you feeling better?”

Namjoon places his ear against the door, the sound of water sprinkling drawing a frown on his lips.

“Y-Yeah...I’m feeling much better, Namjoon.”

He hums, wondering if the water hitting the ground was the reason why your voice sounded deeper and thicker than usual. “Alright….I’ll just be here, if you need anything.”

You make a sound in approval and he softly smiles, ultimately deciding to head back to bed after a long night.

Water continues to splash against the surface of the ground as a fine needle quickly moves against your skin. In the midst of this, your hand ceases to tremble and a whimper escapes your quivering lips, right before you erupt into sobs.

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spookysmujer · 4 years ago

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No Más pt.2, O.Diaz

Summary: Things seem out of place after Oscar asks you to skip town for the weekend. You never listen and you were right not to this time.

warnings: angst, DamselinDistress!Oscar 🤪, cute s h e t, violence

word count: 3.1K

a/n: Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! THANK YOU FOR 1.3K OF Y’ALL! Here is the long awaited part 2 of No Más which was fun asf to write, hehe. Please don’t forget, follow me if you aren’t, join the fam 💗 heart/comment/ reblog my content as well. And turn on those notifications for when I post new content, love y’all!

(Gif belongs to @merakiaes ✨)

“Oscar? Hey, I’m back, Oscar!” You move through the house, looking frantically throughout the rooms. When he doesn’t show up anywhere you’ve looked, you sigh in defeat and you lean against the bathroom door.

“Dammit!”

Your ears perk at the sound of his voice coming from the back yard. The shuffling of metal can be heard as you start to make your way towards the shed, you find him with dirty hands and a car part in his hand. You sigh in relief as you’ve been worried about him the whole way home.

He gives you a brief look before putting his attention back to the part in his hand, you step towards him and rub his back despite the thin layer of sweat, “I thought something had happened to you, I was worried and you couldn’t answer your phone.” You are peering up at him as he continues to keep his attention on what’s in front of him.

“Been here all day, mami. You worry too much.” He steps forwards to get under the hood on a project car he’s been working on. You roll your eyes as he’s been working on this car for as long as you can remember.

“I worry too much? What was I supposed to think with how things had gone down? Excuse me for thinking something happened.” You throw your hands in defeat, Oscar loved to see you get frustrated like this. When you voice your concern for him, it made his heart do a little dancey dance. He glances at you as he sees you rubbing your temples, “Aye.” You open your eyes.

Oscar wipes his hands on a rag and cradles your face, the motor oil smells strong but whenever he gets you to look into his eyes, all else falls away. “I’m good, you’re good, we both good. Mmkay? No one is gonna get me. Everything is handled.”

You nod and settle your hands against his chest as he pulls you in for a kiss, “The Prophet$ are done for. Now we just worry about our hustle and getting the fuck out of the Ridge.” He steps back to his project and you settle any worries right then and there, sitting on the old, yanked out car seat to keep him company.

But that 4 months ago.

That’s when Oscar and Cesar had gotten themselves in a little beef with the Prophet$. You were always so worried when he would he leave the house when he wouldn’t tell you where he was off to, or worst when he had some of the Santos keep you on the opposite side of town that one day, when you got home and you couldn’t find him til his cursing for jamming his finger from the shed gave him away. The day the Prophets$ no longer stood a problem for the streets.

Right now you are standing in the middle of his living room, chest tight and burning from running from the bus station. You’re lungs and calves on fire as you stand there waiting for him to emerge from the back side of the house. But to no avail, despite his car being parked in its usual spot. With a trembling lip, “Oscar..?”

But again, nothing. You have his cross chain tight in your balled up fist. As you head tips forward, you hold in the sounds that threaten to escape you as the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks and onto the floor below you. All those feelings, those nagging feelings that kept bugging you that something wasn’t right. But Oscar kept on reassuring you that everything would be fine.

And the level-headed you tries to make sense of the situation at hand, to make it rational and that this is no different from any other type of business Oscar had to handle. You make your way to the kitchen to sit at the table to calm your nerves before jumping into action. But the hope lasts just for a moment, you see a note hanging from the refrigerator.

“Mano, you will always be one of two reasons I fight everyday to find a way out. Garcias por todo. Take care of Y/N for me.”

In that very moment, you understood those sappy love movies. Those long novels made sense. And if you could explain what it feels like? Ripping fabric down the middle, stitches tearing apart and barely hanging on. It feels very much like that.

The sound of a people talking catches your attention as you peer out of the kitchen window. You see a few santos, one including Sad Eyes. Before marching out to question them, you snatch the note. They turn at the sound of the door swinging open. The ones who were just about to plop down on the run down couch immediately stand and straighten their stances as if you were the Queen of England or something.

“Y/N, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on a bus out of town?” Sad Eyes towers in front of you, a look in his eye that has him just as bewildered as you are.

You wipe your face, “Where is he? Where did he go? He sent me away, why? Tell me!” You begin to push at him to which he begins to stumble back, he tries to get his footing right but your constant shoving makes it nearly impossible. “Yo, cut the shit! Nothing you need to be concerned about. He said he can handle it which means we don’t ask questions.”

A laugh escapes you. So much so that you double over with your hands resting on your knees. When you straighten yourself upright again, the Santos can see you are laughing as tears are streaming down your face. They look at you like you just escaped the insane asylum.

“What’s this? Tell me everything's okay then.” You hold out the note, the tremble in your hand visible. Sad Eyes keeps his eyes on you as he grabs the note. When he does look at it, you see the very moment he realizes Oscar does not have whatever he says he has handled. A goodbye letter? That’s not something he would do though. It’s better to break amends if you know you aren’t making it out. Why would he do something like this? Sad Eyes stares at the note even though he read it over times.

He doesn’t know what to say. All he can do is sigh deeply and look back to you. And he sees how far you are beginning to slip. Funny, he used to be the one to tell Oscar that your tendency to worry would be the death of you and here you are now, descending in the hole that used to be filled by Oscar.

You aren’t sure what happened in the next few moments but you are suddenly staring at the ceiling of Oscar’s room. The room is dark and quiet, the light from the street lights barely shining through the curtains.

“You fainted.”

Cesar’s voice sounds from across the room, causing you to jump. He gives you a half smile as he stands to make his way over to you. Once he sits besides you, he reaches over to grasp your hand, “Sad Eyes called. I saw the note when I got home from my shift. He told me he had some things to handle with Cuchillos. I told him I could go with him but he said he doesn’t need back-up… it’s my fault. I should’ve gone with him. No one knows where he is. No one has seen him.”

The panic spreads through the younger Diaz like wildfire and you immediately sit upright to pull him into your hold. He unravels quickly in your arms, fearing that he made a grave mistake to not be more adamant on going with Oscar. “Cesar, stop. None of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong, okay? Hey, look at me,” You pull his face to look at yours, “You did not do anything to harm your brother. And we are going to find him. You hear me? Me and you, we’re gonna look for him.”

“We all are.” Monse stands near the door with Ruby and Jamal behind her. They give you small smiles and you return it back to them, nodding in agreement. You look to Cesar and squeeze his face and take a deep inhale. Where do you even start?

And for the rest of that day, you all were stumped. How do you find someone who left no clues? Who left no trace to where he went? It was useless to try to go to the police, you knew from Cesar that some cops work for Cuchillos. Oscar left his phone and wallet at his place so trying to trace his phone would be moot. The silence started to eat away with you, you tell them you were gonna get some air.

You walk onto the porch and lean against the railing looking out at Oscar’s shiny red baby. You smile to yourself thinking off all the memories you’ve had with him in his car. The many late night drives when you couldn’t sleep. The drive-inn movie dates. The first time you got to drive his car as well when you nearly took off the bumper parking at Santa Monica pier. All those memories infiltrate your mind, the good ones as well as the bad ones. When he would bring you home early from a party if you two were arguing. Or when you’d sit in the passenger sit, arms crossed, lips sealed as he would be going off on you.

With all those memories replaying in your head, you walk over and run your hand over the hood. If it’s three things Oscar loves is: Family, Food and his impala. That makes you chuckle out loud. How you wish he were here right now, “Where are you, papas?” You whisper to yourself.

Before you walk back to join the others, you spot the scratch mark near the rear tire on the driver side. You try to wipe at it but the scratch is deeper than the paint. You remember instantly Oscar telling you some little traviesos had swiped his car with their bikes when he went to meet Cuchillos that night.

And when you push the first domino, the rest fall with it.

You remember he didn’t tell you much about that night he was supposed to grill but had to last minute meet with the boss lady. He did mention the scratch though. He said that’s what he gets for stopping by Saul’s Place, a little taco restaurant, right after his inconspicuous meeting. You remember he took you once. And you also remember that very time he took you, he needed to handle something briefly in the area and told you he’d meet you at Saul’s place.

Cuchillos has lots of territory and with that territory comes lots of hiding spots for little meetings such as the one she had with Oscar that night and the others. Which has to mean that Saul’s Place has to be near wherever they met and could possibly be now. And if I were Cuchillos, I would make it so that I meet specific people in specific places. You pull out your lanyard from your back pocket, unlocking his car with the spare key he gave to you.

The teens in the house are alerted when they hear the impala roar to life. They exit the house in time to see you take off away from the house. Cesar tries to call out for you but it’s no use, you’re gone in the blink of an eye. He stands in the middle of the street, feeling defeated.

The shaky breath you’ve been holding is finally exhaled as you make the drive to Saul’s. And when you do reach, you open the maps app on your phone. Searching the screen for nearby areas. You zoom in, zoom out, slide it left and right and there are no obvious answers. You lock your phone and slam your head back, you gaze out of the window and from the distance see an abandoned warehouse.

“Plain sight. Ordinary. A perfect spot.” You say to yourself out loud. And then you see the spec of black shine. An SUV. That’s gotta be it. You reach over to the glove compartment and nearly cry out with rejoice when you see the 9mm still rests on the registration papers. Quickly checking the chamber to see if it is loaded, which it is, you exit the car and make your way across the street.

What am I gonna do? Walk there and threaten someone like Cuchillos and her guys? The anxiety in you begins to speak, halting your trek. You shake it though, despite how loud it becomes. The sound of gravel crunching causes you to move quickly behind a nearby bush.

Two men are walking the grounds, quickly appearing in front of the entrance visible to you and then disappearing around the side of the warehouse soon after. You take the opportunity to get in before they double back. When you get in, rays of the sun are poking through the rusted metal. The quiet is eerie but it’s quickly overcome with distant noises.

“You don’t come through when I need you to and that is the reason you are here. Do you understand that?” A female voice sounds and it could only belong to the elusive Cuchillos. “Go, I want to do this alone. He can barely move. I won’t be long.”

Shuffling of feet can be heard approaching you which causes you to quickly stumble back into the shadows, you hold your breath as people pass you by and you going unnoticed. You take a look and see that a few men exit the same way you entered. Cuchillos is talking again so you follow her voice until it gets loud enough to be directly next to you.

You finally see them. Oscar is chained with his arms above him, body beat and bruised. An eyebrow split open and running blood down his face, an eye swollen shut. He looks awful and the sight clenches your heart. At the moment, you see Cuchillos with a gun to his head. It takes all your restraint you have to not lunge out in the moment but it would just end badly for the both of you.

The 9mm resting in the band of your pants behind you. You reach for it and pull out the silencer barrel, twisting it on as you slowly move towards them. Your heart is racing, your breathing harsh as you step quietly closer.

“Truly sad. So much good potential. At least this way, your hermano can rise up in the ranks. Hopefully he’ll do much better than his big brother and waste of a father, 3rd time a charm, right? I’d ask you if you have any last words but I don’t care.” She clocks the gun as he looks at her dead in the eyes, ready to accept his fate.

But she sees it. She sees Oscars eyes move slightly when he spots you. Cuchillos swivels on her heels and faces you. Her hands move to point the gun at you but if it’s one thing Oscar had taught you is that when there is an enemy approaching behind you, to move your weapon toward them first before turning your attention and/or body. There will always be a second delay if you turn your body first. And in this moment, you see what he means. Because you were quicker.

You fire a shot at her thigh causing her to shriek and fall. She turns over to grab her handgun but you kick it away and shoot her hand, another screech escapes her. She clutches her hand to her chest, rolling on her back. Her face shows disgust. You squat and cock your head, a sinister smile appearing on your face, “3rd times a charm, right?” An empty shell falls after shooting another round, this time between her eyes.

A giant weight is released off of your chest as her lifeless body lays there. You grab her gun and shove it in your waistband as you look at Oscar, who has a look of relief plastered over his bloody face. You hold the gun to the chains and shoot, they break and he falls. Quickly rushing over to him, you cradle his face, “Oscar? Hey, look at me. You’re alright, just get up. We gotta move out of here, her guys are gonna be piling in any minute.”

He only groans as you try to help him stand, he weighs a ton. But he manages to stand and lean on you, you hold the gun on your free hand and walk towards the exit, the sound of someone approaching causes you to panic. But Oscar jumps into action mode, pulling the gun from your waist band and into a stance for the advancing party. The both of you in position.

“Hey!”

“Yo!”

Oscar curses under his breath as Cesar appears with Sad Eyes close behind. You nearly throw up from the amount of panic that had just built up. Oscar relaxes his body as you plant yourself into his side.

“Jesus H, when did you two become Mr. and Mrs. Smith?” Cesar’s comment even manages to get a laugh out of Oscar. The older Diaz steps forward and pulls his mano into a bear hug. Cesar immediately hugs him back. Definitely a sight for sore eyes. The four you look back to see the darkness finally defeated.

The drive home was quiet. But even then you would take the quiet over anything else. Oscar rests his hand on your thigh as you pull into the driveway of the Diaz household. You help him in the house and to the bathroom to get all cleaned and bandaged up.

“Hey, te quiero mucho.” Oscar whispers to you as you finish wiping off any dried blood from his forehead. “It’s done. No more. All of it. And within the next couple of weeks, we’ll be out of here. Living in some suburban ass neighborhood where curfew is 9PM.”

You laugh while he smiles, pulling you into his arms. You rest your head against his chest as he kisses the top of your head. But truly it didn’t matter. Whether you were fated to spend the rest of your days here in unpredictable Freeridge or in a gated community with a weekly neighborhood watch meeting on Thursdays. Home is him. Whenever he may choose to go, you follow. From this moment til beyond.

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss@princesstiffxoxo@firebenderwolf @spookysnena @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98@multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc@roury66 @kkim120 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3@starrynite7114 @onmyspookysblock @aneitii @b3mybunnybaby @angelxfics @spookysbabymama @ladylj @vayagrxce @irenne-stans (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

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jazzistolkienfanfics · 4 years ago

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Melleth - Legolas x Reader

Type: Imagine Pairing: Legolas x reader Summary: Y/N knows some Elvish, but she confuses the two meanings for one word Legolas is continually saying: melleth (which can translate to both ‘female friend’ and ‘love’) Warnings: middle finger, mentions of being high, crushing obliviousness, ‘shit’ Word Count: 1462

Y/N and Legolas certainly made for a strange pairing wherever they went. Y/N, constantly covered in sweat, dirt, and occasionally blood, a decent height but absolutely dwarfed by elves (or most men, really), with a mouth like a drunken sailor also high on pipeweed and an irritating level of clumsiness. Legolas, ethereal, stupidly good-looking Prince of Mirkwood, taller than was comfortable for Y/N, never tripped onto his face in front of other royals, and spoke in a calm, agreeable voice on most occasions.

Outsiders to their life would never have assumed them acquaintances, let alone the most familiar of friends, with constant inside jokes with one another and the occasional awkward moment brought on by what the less ... stately members of society liked to call ‘sexual tension’.

According to Y/N, Legolas had absolutely no interest in her whatsoever. She’d heard his stories of his ex-flame, Tauriel, and how his father, King Thranduil, had declared her a ‘lowly Silvan elf’. The beautiful, talented, Captain-of-the-Guard Tauriel, ‘lowly’. Y/N was quiet certain Thranduil would choke on his imported wine if he heard of a human girl who was infatuated with his son, who didn’t like her anyway, as far as Y/N was concerned and aware.

Y/N allowed herself some of her rare minutes alone, when she wasn’t caught up in all the action and battle as a result of joining the Fellowship after they’d helped her in a battle against Orcs, to contemplate on what life could be like with Legolas, permitted herself to briefly think of how he would hug her, how he would kiss h-

“Y/N! Are you coming, melleth?” the blonde elf in question called her name from where he exited the stable where Arod and Hasufel were kept.

Y/N jumped in surprise, her cheeks now a deep red and she was fervently thanking the Valar that Legolas was not telepathic. Though her embarrassment was muffled by the disappointment at hearing him call her ‘friend’. “Mellon! (friend!) Yeah, I’ll be right with you.”

Legolas’s face fell almost imperceptibly at her use of the word friend - he was constantly confused that every time he greeted her as ‘love’ Y/N would respond with ‘friend’. The beautiful, wild, headstrong human girl, he’d fallen for from the moment he first spoke to her, rejecting him so casually day after day, and yet still smiling at him and hugging him and ... it was all very confusing for Legolas. He knew that elves only fell deeply, truly in love once in their long, long lifetimes, and he was so sidetracked by her continuous ... ‘friend-zoning’ that he didn’t know if his feelings for her were the true kind, or just the kind he’d harboured for Tauriel - the same love young, naive children declared for each other.

But he did know that he found Y/N very attractive - from her e/c eyes that could hold thousands of emotions and subtleties at once, to her s/c skin that pleasantly reflected sunlight and was soft despite the fact it often had some small amount of dirt or blood on it, not to mention her unruly h/c hair that she was constantly blowing out of her face/fidgeting with in a most adorable manner.

“Hey! Legolas!” the blonde elf jumped at the unexpected speech, looking down and starting when he saw her only centimetres away from him. “We going, or what?”

“Yes, of course,” he stuttered a little, then cleared his throat and smoothened out his speech. “Come on.”

He mounted Arod in one smooth movement, and held out his hand to Y/N. She was definitely gladdened by the fact that he was inviting her to hold his hand, but she glanced suspiciously at the horse he sat upon.

“Normally, I just walk next to you,” she said, and Legolas cursed internally at her quite valid statement.

“Aragorn said that we must move quickly today,” he said quickly. The Ranger had, indeed, said that. “And Arod does not like Gimli very much. So ... would you ride with me?”

Y/N grinned and let him pull her up so she sat in front of him, leaning over Arod’s neck. Legolas brought his arms around her waist so he could hold the reins. Gimli looked at the two of them and muttered something about ‘lovesick fools’, which made Legolas shoot him a scathing glare and Y/N give him a withering middle finger. Aragorn just sighed quietly, mounting Hasufel and pulling Frodo up.

---

Hours later, Y/N began to shift uncomfortably and blink sleepily.

“It’s all right, melleth,” Legolas said kindly. “You can lean on me.” He was silently hoping, praying that she would say anything but-

“Thank you, mellon,” Y/N said through a quiet yawn, leaning backwards so her head (and then her entire top half) was resting against Legolas’s chest.

The elf waited until he heard her breathing even out, and he was sure she was asleep, before he began to talk to her softly.

“Why must you do this to me, Y/N? Why do you flirt with me and blush around me and then reject me moments later?”

Unbeknownst to Legolas, who was still expressing his frustration aloud, Y/N had opened her eyes, and was fully awake and listening.

“I don’t understand!” he burst out, almost making Y/N reveal that she was awake as she struggled not to jump in shock. “I say that I love you, I call you love ... is it a human thing to ignore romantic advances?”

“Oh!” Y/N couldn’t stop herself and she sat straight up, twisting around to look at Legolas, who was somehow both pale with shock and flushed with embarrassment at once. “Melleth! It means love in Sindarin, doesn’t it? Shit - I thought you were calling me friend!”

Legolas took the hand that was holding the reins and smacked himself on the forehead. “I forgot that I was the one who taught you Sindarin! And I taught you that melleth meant-”

“-friend,” Y/N finished. “Does it really mean love?”

At this point, Legolas was wondering whether to tell Y/N the truth or not: to save him from the crushing mortification he felt of misunderstanding her for a period of months, but he decided that a late confession of his feelings would be better than potentially hurting her. Not that she would be hurt if she didn’t return his feelings, which was what he expected after Tauriel.

“Yes, Y/N, it does,” he said slowly, looking at her - her e/c eyes wide with confusion. “I told you that elves only love once in their lives. And I think that my love is you.”

“You ... love me.” Y/N repeated slowly, knowing she sounded stupid but being too shocked to care.

“Yes. And you probably don’t-”

“Legolas, if you say ‘you probably don’t love me’, so help me I will throw you off this horse.”

Legolas blinked rapidly.

“I kept thinking you were deliberately calling me friend because you knew I was attracted to you and you were discouraging me!” Y/N explained. “And, honestly, look at you! You’re the Prince of Mirkwood! And you’re an elf - I didn’t even think that elves fell in love with humans.”

“We do,” Legolas smiled, his entire expression transforming into one of soft happiness. “Or, at least ... I do.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, before laughing loudly and unapologetically. Legolas’s face fell a little.

“I am so stupid,” Y/N laughed. “I can’t believe I kept calling you friend.”

She turned on the horse, lifting one leg over so she now sat side-saddle, and gently reached out, touching his cheek so softly it felt like a stroke of the wind.

“I am sorry for hurting you,” you said, taking a deep breath to steady yourself for what you would say next. “Gi melin. (I love you)”

Legolas breathed in sharply, surprise sketched all over his features. You gave a low chuckle.

“I thought elves were meant to be more observant than this.”

Legolas just rolled his eyes, pulling you towards him and connecting your lips softly. He tasted like the kind of pure, sweet water one could drink straight from a spring, and like something citrusy and a little earthy. Everything he did was gentle - how he pulled her towards him, how his lips softly brushed across hers, and how his arms wrapped around his waist.

“OI!” Y/N and Legolas broke apart at the loud shout, that had come from Gimli’s direction. “STOP MAKING OUT AND KEEP MOVING! Oh, and Aragorn? You owe me ten gold.”

Aragorn muttered something under his breath along the lines of ‘shit’, waving a hand for you to get moving.

Legolas kicked Arod into motion, both of his arms remaining firmly around your waist. “Gi melin, melleth.”

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to heart this imagine, give me a follow and/or request (it makes my day so much!).

#legolasxreader #legolas #xreader #lordoftherings #lotr #lotrxreader #you #x reader #legolas x reader #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #imagine #legolasimagine #legolas imagine

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noisydiary · 3 years ago

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the memory of mourning...

By now, the sun had set- the ground settled as footsteps from the day had passed.

I couldn’t manage to come until now.

A soft chirp of birds calling home culled the sound of the wind, drawing in the cold, the clouds growing on the horizon. They said there’d be rain later, but it didn’t matter much now.

The sound picks up on the memory, and the ‘camera’ moves- a soft crunch with every movement as Leigh walked along the gravel path. The sides of her view caught headstones, some well worn, forgotten; some brand new, with flowers and wreaths laid against them. Her movement swayed as she stepped further, the remaining light from the sun dimming…

The current Leigh piped in for a moment, her mechanical voice bringing Mary from the memory, “I… remember the quiet, how peaceful it was there in comparison to my thoughts at the time. It wasn’t all quiet, but it was away from the city, from life. The hustle and bustle of it all. That’s what they do with cemeteries, don’t they? Somewhere far away from the people who have to carry on with what was left behind.”

The footsteps stopped as Leigh came to a row, turning to face the plots before her. She took a few more steps towards the grass, towards a newer headstone that stood alone…

Much like the others she’d passed, this headstone was ‘decorated’, memorialised by a small vase of roses- wilted from time… and a small teddy next to them, sitting next to the stone’s carving: Mary E. Somers.

How were we supposed to carry what you carried, Mary?

Leigh’s head fell at that thought, a sharp, strained cry escaping her for her brief moment of weakness. Her hands came to cover her mouth as she took a breath to calm the outburst.

That’s all you can think about?? That’s it? Really. You’re angry at HER for your own actions? You did this, Ashleigh. Y o u. No one else. You carried out the order— You didn’t even try to resist. You grit your teeth and said ‘If that’s how it’s going to be, so be it’ and made your peace just like that. Hell, it was your failure in the first place that landed you here.

It took another moment, another breath passing in, then out. She dropped her hands afterwards, and lifted her head to the headstone.

“…No. Not this time. I will bear that weakness, because damn it! If loving-… if loving you was a failure, then let me be wrong…” Leigh’s voice quivered, pausing so as not to falter as she spoke, “It wasn’t your fault, just… mine. I wish I took the punishment instead. Self preservation, all that, right? I-I didn’t want to die…”

But you should have.

You should have taken the punishment. This is your plot, not hers- she still had everything. A family, a job, a house- a whole life.

The only thing you had was her.

Leigh stayed quiet on that, taking one step closer to clear her mind. She spoke when her thoughts stilled, “…You can see the stars here. Peck made sure of that— She said you’d like it here, since they couldn’t spread your ash out across the Outlands.“

Her view shifted, as she stepped back, pulling away before she let herself become a further wreck. She shook her head as she muttered, “…I’m sorry, Mary- but…”

Leigh cleared her throat, “The world is selfish…“ she spoke, the grass rustling as she turned to leave, finishing her remark with a quiet peace, “…But thanks for trying to show me it wasn’t.”

The last rays of light from sunset faded, leaving the darkness to swallow the false remains Leigh left behind. ☾ | ramble inspired by - https://twitter.com/semiveral/status/1506477717201604612?s=20&t=vsaphswszmhuNO8LmglP3A

#pre canon #brokengravity #apex #apex ash #apex horizon #rambles

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minty-chocco · 4 years ago

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Hello! May I request a cupcake with a grumpy Leona Kingscholar, trying to woo an GN Reader with like lion courting methods? Like brushing out his mane and giving meat and such, but it isn't working? Until Ruggie tips him off to try human courting? I don't really care what format but a scenario would be preferred. Thank you!

𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒂 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓 🧁

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x GN! Reader

Warning(s): None.

Word Count: 1.8k words

Extra Note: aaaaa I’ve written this prompt the other way around at first (the reader is the one courting Leona) and realized my mistake halfway through lol. Anyways, writing this was quite a challenge for me since I still haven’t fully grasped Leona’s personality yet. To be honest, the reader was supposed to be dense but then I thought what would be the fun in that? So I made the reader quick witted so they could push Leona into doing more effort in courting! I apologize if this isn’t what you had in mind and if Leona’s character is a bit off. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy reading! Here’s your cupcake~! (sorry it took so long)

The reader would be following canon mc here but they’re in 3rd year instead because Leona is 20 years old.

These past few days you have noticed the dorm leader of Savanaclaw, Leona Kingscholar, is acting a little bit odd.

At first, you thought that he was just in the mood of being nice but then quickly erased that thought—Leona wouldn’t be nice with just anyone. You were suspicious if he was planning something being the scheming person that he is.

He would send Ruggie to give you food and jewelries. Whenever you would meet him at the Botanical garden he would be somewhat clinging to you while taking a nap. If others were to find you in that position they would assume you two were lovers.

It wasn’t like that before. Leona despised any presence in his sleeping place not wanting anyone to disturb him. He would prefer to be alone and be basked in silence.

Now he seems to tolerate you or even so.. he seems to now like your presence.

He would scoff whenever he smells another person’s scent on you and would become quite possessive, hugging you close until that nasty scent of others is now overpowered with his.

He wasn’t like that before.

You had some suspicions that maybe he likes you—but then you quickly erased that thought out of your mind.

He wouldn’t.. right?

By this time, you were starting to get confused by his sudden behavioral change. You decided to ask him directly about it.

Walking through the school’s halls, your footsteps echoing throughout the empty corridor as you quickened your pace to get through the Botanical Garden.

You wanted answers. Now.

The botanical garden was peaceful as always. The sun shone down through its glass roof giving it a calm scenery. The vibrant colored flowers that surrounds the inside of the building was beautiful and fragrant. You inhaled the fresh scent of air. You can’t really blame Leona for liking this spot.

You saw Leona at his usual sleeping area. He was softly snoring seemingly deep in his slumber.

You observed his features while he’s busy dozing his problems away. He looked peaceful. His soft brown hair looked messy because he kept moving while sleeping. The shade of the tree he’s sleeping under kept him away from the light of the sun. You observed that his ear was slightly twitching.

‘He must be having a dream..’ You thought.

You poked his cheeks gently to wake him up. When he didn’t give any response, you tugged at his sensitive ears instead.

Of course, this caused him to wake up looking annoyed. The lion shifted and fluttered his eyes open revealing beautiful deep emeralds that shone like crystals.

His eyes were like hues of the forest, surrounded with dark moss. It was the kind of earthy green that reveals the grass after the winter snow melted. The mystifying glow of his reflected on your (e/c) colored eyes.

“Oi, who would—” His deep voice was commanding with a hint of annoyance. Upon realizing that it was you, his irritated expression turned neutral. “It’s you, herbivore.”

Leona wouldn’t hesitate show his dismay to anyone who would dare wake him up and mercilessly kick them out but why isn’t he doing so to you?

“You’re acting weird, Leona-san.” You confronted him quite concerned for the man in front of you. Maybe he ate something he shouldn’t have. Maybe Ruggie got sick of this man and have been putting funny potions in his meal. You never know.

“Haah?” He rubbed his eyes still sleepy because of his nap that was cut short. “Be straightforward.”

You sighed shaking your head a little. “You’re acting too nice.”

He frowned hearing this but you continued on not giving him a chance to talk. “First of all, why are you giving me meat through Ruggie? What do you expect me to do with it?”

He was about to say something in defense but you raised a finger to add more. “Second of all, you’ve been touchy touchy with me lately to the point that I’m becoming your personal pillow.”

“Lastly.” You gave him a pointed glare. “You’re becoming protective of me. You couldn’t care less about me before.”

Leona sighed seemingly frustrated. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“No. Explain it to me.” You stubbornly replied, tired on whatever game he was doing.

Does he like you?

“What a pain.” He turned his back to you begrudgingly and proceeded to lay down to take a nap ignoring your request. He pulled you aside with him and held you tightly while shutting his eyes close.

“You--!” You gasped in surprise.

When you noticed that he was already asleep, there was nothing you can do. You looked at him at disbelief. How can he fall asleep in just a matter of seconds? You decided not to ponder on your thoughts anymore. It’s Leona after all.

“What should I do with you..” You said in a whisper.

“Leona-san.” Ruggie looked at his senior and pursed his lips. “You should be courting (Y/N)-san as any normal human would do.”

The hyena didn’t really care if his senior was doing the wrong method of courting as long as he was being paid but after a long time, he couldn’t bear to see Leona failing at his pathetic attempts.

“You think I don’t know that?” He raised a brow at his junior in front of him. Leona was clever enough to know that but he didn’t want to take his time to do research so he resorted to a method he’s familiar with. “This would do.”

Ruggie looked at the dorm leader in incredulity. “I’m sure (Y/N)-san would appreciate it more.”

After noticing the lack of response, Ruggie realized that Leona has already fallen deep in his slumber.

Ruggie just shook his head while picking up Leona’s clothes to take them to laundry. Atleast he tried.

After debating some time with yourself you decided to tell Leona directly to keep his act up. You’re slowly believing your first suspicions that he might like you when his actions continued.

“Leona-san.”

You visited him in Savanaclaw after a few days. “Do you like me?”

Leona’s ears perked up upon hearing this. He looked at you with an amused expression. “Oh? You finally noticed?”

Shaking your head, you looked at him straight in the eyes. “Then were you trying to woo me or something all this time?”

He shifted to his bed to get into a more comfortable position before answering. “Yeah, what do you think I was doing?”

“Well..” You studied his expression before speaking up. “You got to do a lot more than that.”

Leona has been ‘courting’ you by giving you meat through Ruggie and often times he would just hold you in place while sleeping. He didn’t really extort real effort upon doing so.

It’s not like you’re materialistic or anything but you wanted him to be more proactive in his goals. You wanted him to be the one doing all the work instead of Ruggie but since it’s Leona we’re talking about—it seems like it would be an impossible goal.

If he wanted you then he’s got to work harder than that. You ain’t no easy fish to catch.

You made sure to send the message across not paying to his reaction before walking off.

The lion looked at your retreating figure before gathering his thoughts and finally making a decision.

Leona has stopped doing his method of courting after that conversation you had the other day.

You can’t help but feel disappointment fill you up. You expected the lion to atleast put some effort and challenged him but you guess it was too much for him.

Although, it may not seem like it.. you did like the lion back. Even when he can be seen as standoffish, prideful, and lazy you can see some of his good points.

Closing the magical book and bouncing off your seat in the library, you returned the book to its respected shelf.

Exiting the library, you tried to take your mind off things by looking through the students passing by you while walking.

After coming back to the Ramshakle dorm, what you didn’t expect to see was a certain lion that has been invading your mind lately. Leona’s turned to look at you after smelling your familiar scent, his tail slightly raising.

“Leona.” You looked at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Oi, (Y/N)” The man in front of you looked at you with an unreadable expression.

You flinched when he called your name. This was the first time Leona ever called you by your name instead of herbivore.

“I like you.” He awkwardly looked away scratching the back of his head not really used to these kinds of things. He wanted to take a more straight approach instead of poking around.

Truthfully, Leona considered giving up. He thought it was such a pain that he would have to get his ass off from his comfort zone but that changed when reflecting back your moments shared together.

This lion started to get used to your presence that It just feels wrong whenever you’re not with him. At first, he was satisfied with being friends thinking that being in a relationship would be a lot of work. That opinion of his changed when he saw you being buddy buddy with the other students.

Yes, it made him jealous. Leona was quite possessive and he didn’t like the fact that there were students that dare try to make a move on you. He would often get annoyed smelling other scents on you.

Although, he’s embarrassed to voice these thoughts out loud. He had hoped that his feelings reached you across. He then outstretched his hand to reveal a little box. He looked like he was waiting for you to take it and so you did.

When you opened the box, it revealed a bracelet. It was just like his but more personalized and fit into your style.

You raised a brow at him waiting him to explain eyeing him suspiciously.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He raised his hand defensively and you can see him become flustered for a split second before regaining his composure. “I made that.”

“Really? Are you sure?” You took at stepped and looked at him intensely as if you can tell if he’s lying or not.

He groaned seemingly frustrated. “I did, okay? I even put your favorite colors to suit your taste.”

“Hm.” You observed the bracelet closely and it was embedded to fit your aesthetic on just the way you like. “You’re right.”

Leona clicked his tongue upon this. “What a troublesome herbivore you are.. making me do these things.”

You can’t help but feel giddy inside. He really did this for you, huh? To others it may not seem much but Leona taking his time to make something for you makes you happy. You’re very much aware about the lack of effort he put into things and the fact that he made effort into making you this was already priceless to you.

You chuckled and smiled fondly at him. “Aww aren’t you a cute kitty~”

“Heh.” He gave you his signature smirk which made your heart skip a beat. “Have you fallen for me now?”

“Who knows~?” You gave the lion a kiss on the cheek which wiped the smug grin on his face and is replaced with surprise, a light dust of pink painting his cheek.

Ah, how dare you steal his heart just like that.

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈! 🧁

#twsited wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #twst #twst leona #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona x reader #freshly baked cupcakes

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arigatouiris · 4 years ago

Text

an inconvenient crush // kenma kozume x reader (1/2)

Author’s Note: A new story?? SO SOON?? Thank you for all the love for my previous Kuroo story, it meant the world to me. I write for myself primarily, yes, but it brings me SO MUCH JOY to know that my words reach you. It helps with the motivation to put them out more often. Thank you. This story is very close to my heart because I’m a gamer, although I don’t stream. I’m more like Kenma though, personality wise. Haha.

Word count: 5k+

Pairing: YouTuber! Kenma Kozume x Streamer! Reader

Summary: YouTuber Kozume Kenma has had the biggest crush on Twitch Streamer, (s/n) (y/n), who in actuality simps heavily after Kenma's secret YouTube persona, puddinghead0.

What happens when their paths cross?

Kuroo is honestly tired of Kenma's second-guessing, and (y/n) is a bit of a crackhead.

Warnings: unrequited love, one-sided crush, slight angst, pining, crackhead reader, internet bullying, slang, gaming references, haikyuu manga spoilers, fluff

C h a p t e r O n e : puddinghead0

Kozume Kenma suddenly turned existential when his eyes shifted to his phone screen for the 12th time in ten minutes.

Was he always doing this? Was he always obsessed with his phone to a point where he'd constantly check for notifications? Did this mean he was deeply lonely on the inside and wanted approval from people on a virtual platform, which meant that the approval was also virtual and none of it was real? Did it mean that he craved to nullify the growing void in his chest by distracting himself with a black mirror that showcased light that could permanently impair his sight?

He let out a breath and forced himself not to look at his phone. He didn't care. It didn't matter. That's what he always said.

"Hey!" His classmate/room-mate screamed from the entrance to his flat, "Are you watching her stream? Posted two minutes ago!"

His phone was definitely slow. He had been checking his phone but there was no notification. Letting out a breath, and giving himself a mental reason to actually check his phone, Kenma opened the notifications tab to see the one notification he had kept his eye out for had been buried under ridiculous facebook notifs.

An inconvenient crush, that's what he told himself whenever he looked at you. You were a streamer, a bit different from what he did on YouTube because you were primarily on Twitch. There were reaction videos of you on YouTube, which was where he found you, but damn—how could one be pretty while rage-quitting a game? It was abnormal. Nothing about you was normal; college student/Twitch streamer, an apparent baker in your mother's bakery, game reviewer for Sony, and you were insanely cute.

"She's getting to that part," his roommate commented from behind Kenma's back, while Kenma really just wanted to watch the video in peace, "Shit, she's gonna cry."

You did cry, quite a few times, and too easily if he could add. You cried at the ending of God of War, you cried to The Last of Us (which made sense, but you were perhaps just bawling throughout the entire game), you cried in a game called Detroit: Become Human, you cried far too easily, but you never really quit. He loved how passionate you were about games, and it was the sort of passion he could completely understand.

"Oh shit," You said in the video, your eyes scanning all over the game screen, "What's happening? What's happening?"

Kenma chuckled at how cute you were, god, you were killing him. You looked worried, and he could visibly see a sweat drop on your forehead, but you were so focused that it didn't matter. Suddenly, there was a screaming sound from the game you were playing, and your eyes popped open as wide as they possibly could and you just sat there, unmoving. He loved how you never squealed or made any loud reactions, except when you were in a fight with a difficult boss, but whenever something traumatic happened, you just froze and sunk it all in. You were currently playing the second part of The Last of Us, and a traumatic scene was definitely happening. Kenma had just finished playing it the night before, so every scene you were playing was familiar.

"I officially hate this game," You said, your voice breaking and he desperately wanted to hold you, "Fucking hell."

"God, she's amazing." Kenma's roommate said, eyes turning into literal hearts.

"Hm." Yeah, she is, Kenma thought, but could never really say.

As a YouTuber himself who streams games, he was aware that you were not as popular, and it was a fact that he really didn't like. Sure, you were on a less popular platform, but Twitch was incredibly popular by itself as well. He also understood the bias that came with being a female gamer, and while it sounded ridiculous to him, Kenma was one of those people who believed gaming required no gender.

He adored your content, and he secretly adored the hell out of you, so seeing you soar would only make him happy.

"I... I can practically feel what pain she's feeling right now," You spoke about the game, a lone tear threatening to leak out of your eye, "But! We shall persevere. I've been waiting 7 years for this game, so I won't let... won't let something like this halt my interest. Let's see if this has a point to it all."

God, he adored you. But, Kenma considered it an inconvenient crush because of course, the world was small. The first big crush he has on someone and he hoped it would remain over the internet, but it just had to become something more tangible, something that could make him weak in the knees.

You, a college student/Twitch streamer, an apparent baker in your mother's bakery, a game reviewer for Sony, insanely cute, and also happened to be one of his YouTube channel's biggest fans.

He had only recently discovered your personal twitter handle, and dear lord, you were simping after him with no remorse. It wasn't as if he was all you talked about, but he had also noticed the trajectory of the games you were playing were on par with his own timeline. Kenma had finished his final stream for The Last of Us II just the night before and you had now started playing it. Right before that, it was Bloodborne, and before that, it was Final Fantasy VII Remake. However, your public handle was a lot more professional and despite knowing that it was there, he hadn't sent you a follow request because well, Kenma called himself an introvert in every matter but Kuroo just said he was shy.

While he knew that he could easily approach you and have you know he knew of your existence, Kenma preferred not to get into such detail. It was comfortable admiring you from afar, and it was comfortable being where he was—he had his company to work hard over, he was also a computer student and a YouTuber. Sure, he had his hands full especially after calling you abnormal for something that he himself was doing, but he never really fit into a bracket anyway. Kenma's latent obsession with you was something he wasn't particularly proud of and this wasn't because it had anything to do with you, but simply because he didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Change, in many ways, scared him. And by changing the structure or dynamics of him admiring you in secret, while you admired him not so secretly, Kenma was certain that it might not lead where he may have wanted it to go.

Surely, Kuroo was against this sort of caution, calling it cowardly and saying it lacked passion; but Kenma knew it was just a crush. There was no way he could deduce the kind of person you were based on how you gamed or reacted to games, based on the little tid-bits of information you gave out while playing those games, or even how you openly spoke about how much you admired 'puddinghead0's videos. Kenma hated Kuroo for giving him that name, but he was too lazy to come up with a new one.

"Also," You sprung up in the final two minutes of your latest video, "I'm on Patreon, now! I honestly have no idea how it works, but if you really like the content I make and want to support me, you can become a patron and wish me luck!"

Kenma waited for his stupid roommate to go out of his room before he could open Patreon and find your link, which was thankfully in the description. Without a second thought, he donated to your profile but cussed instantly when he realized what he had done.

He had sent you a donation as himself, as 'puddinghead0's Patreon.

Without a second thought, Kenma called Kuroo and explained what had happened.

"That is why, Kenma, you need to check a thousand times and not let blind love navigate your actions—"

"If I knew you were going to spout such nonsense I wouldn't have called you."

He could hear Kuroo snicker while he ran a hand through his hair. Kenma groaned before Kuroo said, "How bad is this, Kenma? She'll be happy. Of course, this means she'll know you watch her content, but how bad can this be?"

"I didn't want her to know."

"And leave her devoid of the happiness of having her idol appreciate her content? You're cold, Kenma."

"You don't understand. What if... What if she tries to contact me?"

"You, my friend, have not even shared your personal account anywhere. The only way she can contact you is by commenting on your videos, which I am sure you check constantly to see if she did comment, or Tweeting, which she does every three days."

Kenma blushed at the accusation because it was true.

"She won't know who you are. Besides, there's no harm if she even does contact you! Just tell her casually that yeah, you like her contact. I don't see what the big deal is."

"Of course you don't—"

"Oh, she's tweeted something."

Kenma's entire body froze. Leaving Kuroo on the call, Kenma opened Twitter on his laptop and there it was, your latest tweet.

I am trying NOT to freak out over puddinghead sending me a donation on Patreon, pls save my soul, I am dead.

Kenma groaned before hearing Kuroo laugh once more, "She's adorable!"

I know that, Kenma thought before feeling his entire face flash up. Ending Kuroo's call, Kenma looked at your public profile before then moving to your personal one. He wasn't following that one either, but he wanted to see your tweets, he wanted to know more about you—he wouldn't deny any of these facts, but Kenma believed it was far too idiotic to dream of getting to know you through a virtual media. He wasn't even the sort of person to become close to people he met in real life, how could he allow himself a virtual friendship?

The thought staggered him, and the idea behind it was what kept him at bay. Kenma wanted to know about you, talk to you, learn about who you were and what you were doing, but he felt the media that connected you was what separated you.

It wasn't cowardice at all if he was just sticking to the facts and being real.

The next day, Kenma walked to his class by himself, listening to the latest podcast by Joe Rogan. While the external sound wasn't entirely muted, Kenma could discern sounds of people talking, cars moving around, and other noises even though he was playing the podcast on full sound. However, there was one sound in particular that stood out. Kenma paused before turning to his right, noticing a crowd of people had gathered there, with some sort of event going on. He didn't pay attention to half the events that his college conducted, his mind was obviously quite busy elsewhere, but when the announcer moved around in a weird Joker cosplaying outfit, Kenma was a tad bit intrigued.

Was it gaming related?

He slowly moved toward the crowd before finally being able to hear what the anchor was saying.

"We've got prizes for the top three best performers, and one of the participants is the one and only (s/n) (y/n), streamer from Twitch!"

Kenma froze, half-minded to run the hell away from there. But, it seemed as if his feet were stuck to the ground. How had he not known this? Didn't you always announce the events you go to? Why were you suddenly here? A second later, he spotted you, hair put up in an updo, a plain black tee, and regular jeans. You were smiling, but some part of that smile seemed a bit hesitant.

"We will be playing a bit differently today! Instead of the usual Fortnite battles or Apex Legends, we'll be going went and battling out on Red Dead Online! And of course, if you beat (y/n) here you earn bragging rights!"

He noticed you shift in your position a little bit, clearly uncomfortable with the attention you were getting; it didn't even look like you wanted to be there. Kenma could feel his chest hurt, and his palms were sweating now. That's all it is, he told himself. An inconvenient crush, an inconvenient crush, that's all.

Kenma sighed before noticing how he barely knew anyone there and was almost thankful for that fact; but before he could thank his stars, a hand threw itself around his neck and sprung him forward, earning the attention of not just everyone there, but especially you.

"We have our first participant," It was his goddamn roommate, "Kenma's a brilliant gamer!"

Kenma's eyes immediately found yours, and you were looking at him with wide, confused eyes. Although this was set in the open and the atmosphere was quite cold, Kenma felt nothing but warmth radiating all over his body at the mere sight of you; you were just a few feet away, and you were giving him a rather sympathetic expression, and god, you looked so fucking pretty—

"That's great! Sign up, ya'll! Winner will be winning a brand new DualShock 4!"

Oh fuck, Kenma thought before he felt his heart beginning to pound. He was now seated beside you, and he could practically shrink into non-existence. You were unmoving, and you weren't looking at him, but would you have looked at him if you knew he was puddinghead? Insecurity swarmed his being and he could practically feel steam escaping his ears but a moment later, he thought he'd die.

"This was so last minute," you said, rubbing the back of your neck, "The anchor's my cousin and she's so demanding."

"Oh," Kenma said, feeling his heartbeat skyrocket, "I see."

"Yeah! I mean," You giggled now, "I'm not even good at Red Dead Online!"

Kenma smirked, knowing the fact already. You struggled with Red Dead Redemption not because you were bad, but because you couldn't progress with a plot so divisive. You wanted to explore more, and since the game was so vast, you barely bothered with the Online version. You turned to him now and tilted your head.

"You're a gamer, I heard? Kozume-kun, right?"

Fuck, she knows my name, "Y-Yeah. I game when I'm free."

"Do you have a Twitch or YouTube?"

There's no fucking way I'll answer that, "No—"

"Ah, you must really be having a great time then."

Kenma blinked before turning to you with confusion. What did you mean?

"Don't you enjoy streaming?"

"Ah, no, no," You flailed your hands shyly, and Kenma believed he could combust, "It's not like that. I just think, after a point, streaming becomes more for the fans than for yourself. I used to do it for me, but now... I'm needed in places like this for promotion, and I need to have a Patreon if I'm popular or it'll look weird, I don't know... Too many restrictions. I just love gaming, you know?"

Kenma found himself smiling, "Yeah, I know. I've seen your videos."

"Oh?"

Kenma's eyes widened. He wanted to slap himself on his forehead.

"I—I mean, y-you're popular."

"Thanks! You're really sweet, Kozume-kun!"

Fucking hell, Kenma placed a hand on his forehead, She's too cute.

"Say," you said, a sly tone to your voice, "Do you want to get out of here?"

"I'd do anything." Kenma honestly agreed.

But, you couldn't just up and leave. You were called here as Twitch streamer (s/n) (y/n), and that meant your behavior was restricted. As much as you seemed to hate said restriction, Kenma was certain that you wouldn't go against it. It could take a big blow against your viewership, and you wouldn't take that chance.

A second later, your hand gripped his wrist before you shot him a wink. Kenma's heart jumped to the skies before you pulled him away from the crowd, with participants lining the entrance to enter their names. Sure, you were doing something bad—your cousin wanted you there, but not once had she even asked if you wanted to be a part of this event. Just as Kenma was pulled in without his consent. You weren't a competitive gamer, and you were not going to be, even if it was for someone else. After running away a fair distance, Kenma felt the part of his wrist burn right where you were touching him.

"I think I need to run more in real life and not just as Ellie." You said, and Kenma chuckled.

"Running's good."

"I used to run track," You said, turning to him. "Now I run in games and that's it."

You have no right being that cute, he thought before clearing his throat. He slowly pulled away from you, which made your eyes widen before shooting him an apologetic smile. He was a bit confused as to what you had done, did this mean you didn't care about losing followers?

"You might think that I've committed career suicide," You scoffed, "Honestly, this is the bravest I've been in so long."

"What do you mean?"

You shrugged, "Ever since I became a bit popular by streaming, I've just... I could feel myself change with the way my viewers wanted me to be? I don't blame them or anything, I just think that the love I get from them makes me yearn for more. And that yearning leaves me... inept to be myself. It's the downside of wanting to remain popular, I guess."

"It's not like you can't be yourself and still be popular." Kenma added.

"Yeah I know," You said, "I mean, just look at puddinghead0, we don't even know what he looks like, and wow. I adore his content."

Kenma froze once more. Was this being recorded? Did Kuroo finally tip you off and was this being filmed for his reaction? Whatever it was, he wasn't going to reveal to you now.

"Y-Yeah, I think he just doesn't care."

"I wish I was more like that because I end up caring. I like the comments and the views and the love. Agh, it's such a weird complex moral question. Don't even get me started."

Kenma laughed at your reaction before you turned to him and stuck a tongue out. Kenma rolled his eyes before waving a hand at you.

"If anything," Kenma said, looking at the ground, "You didn't lose this follower today."

Your eyes widened at his statement. You smiled before nodding, and let out a chuckle.

"Thank you, Kozume-kun."

Locking the door to his room, Kenma began to edit for his latest video. He was making a review for The Last of Us 2, but his mind was elsewhere. He still hadn't told Kuroo that he had met you, which would only cause the black-haired man to tease him relentlessly. Letting out a sigh, he felt sleep douse his eyelids as he continued the edit, right before a notification popped up on his phone.

It was you.

He narrowed his eyes before checking the date and time; it was unusual for you to stream live on random days. He'd learned your pattern by now. You'd been doing this for a couple of months, and it was quite easy for him to know just when and what time you'd begin. However, the screen for The Last of Us 2 was open and you looked like you had just stopped crying. His heart broke at the sight, and he instantly closed the tabs to his own edit, before opening your video on his monitor. You were taking deep breaths before chuckling.

"Hello to everyone that's still with me," You sounded so broken, Kenma felt helpless as he continued staring at you, "You might be wondering why I'm... yeah. So, I did something and I guess I got punished for it? I was forced into a game contest and I think walking out of it made some of my followers mad. I even spoke to this other person about walking out and honestly, it didn't hit me then that what puddinghead's doing takes a lot of courage."

"Ah, fuck, (y/n)," Kenma groaned.

"I guess even when I expected to lose followers, I didn't expect the hate? Some of the comments were just... nasty. I..." You sniffed, "...I didn't expect that you would hate on someone for making a personal choice? And I didn't do it to offend anyone, I seriously don't know how the internet works. Oh, oh wow—" You looked troubled and Kenma could see why. "—losing out on viewers now, great. 'Don't be a whiny bitch', 'This is why girls shouldn't game'..."

You took a deep breath before calming down and saying the few words Kenma feared you might eventually come around to say.

"This is (y/n), signing off to a world where gaming is appreciated and is not filled with a community of hate. Hope to see you there."

And the stream ended.

Kenma sighed before leaning back, no thought in his head. He knew for a fact that his room-mate must have seen the stream as well, and Kuroo would be calling him about the entire ordeal just to ensure he had something to say about it. Kenma, on the other hand, felt like he had practically pushed you to make this decision and partly felt like taking the blame, despite the common sense telling him that he had nothing to do with it. You weren't the sort of person who would jump at something without a second thought, and even if he didn't know you personally, he had been following you and your streams for months now. It felt like he knew that part of you quite well.

Kuroo was the first to call. Kenma stared at the phone for a bit before letting out a breath and getting back to editing his video. He only had to add commentary, and his mind was already circling on what to say.

Uploading the video took him exactly two more hours, after having missed three calls from Kuroo and twelve messages. At one point, Kuroo had even stopped contacting Kenma, thinking he was busy with something, and he was spot on. Kuroo's eyes wandered on the new notification about his friend's YouTube channel, which was weird considering it was not yet time for him to post something. He knew quite well that Kenma might have definitely seen (y/n)'s stream, and wanted to desperately talk to him about it, but without a clue of what the boy was thinking, Kuroo simply clicked on the notification and let the video play out.

It was the review for the game, The Last of Us 2, and Kuroo knew while giving the review, which was around 8-9 minutes, Kenma would speak his thoughts that were a tad bit uncensored toward the end. He'd talk about the drama surrounding the game, he would even bring up the entire hate that this game was receiving, but instead—Kenma had a rather strange dialogue instead.

"One thing I don't understand is how toxic the gaming community can be, at times," Kuroo paused, narrowing his eyes at his friend's words, "While we welcome new gamers to the entire journey of learning and discovering the joy of gaming, we also tend to put them down if they didn't adhere to a certain trend. I came across one such incident happening to (s/n) (y/n)'s Twitch channel."

"Holy shit!" Kuroo sat up straight, eyes wide as saucers at the bold move his friend made.

"I'm part of this community and I think I have the right to call out how toxic we are in general,"

Kenma's voice didn't even waver, but after knowing him his entire life, Kuroo could deduce that the boy was a bit angry,

"(y/n) didn't particularly do anything wrong, and she's received some nasty comments about being a female gamer, and I think that's...just disgusting. She has all the right to either attend or ditch a gaming event, and no one has to be forced to do something they don't want to do. We all have games we don't like despite being gamers, we don't have to do it all. I support (y/n), and I'll admit, I'm saddened by how her fans have treated her. Her content is great and I have immense respect for her. I hope she decides to come back and stream more. That being said, I think The Last of Us 2 is..."

As he got around to talk more about the game, Kuroo knew that this was a huge step for Kenma, and he had no idea what suddenly made the boy rethink his entire decision on never bringing her up. Now that he had, he's indirectly initiated a conversation with her, she'd definitely try and reach out now—in any way she possibly could, just to thank him at least.

Kuroo noticed his phone ringing a second later and a grin made its way to his lips.

"What just happened?"

"I met her, Kuroo," Kuroo almost had the wind knocked out of him, "She was at my college campus. I was walking back to my room since classes were canceled. There was some sort of gaming event. She didn't want to be a part of it, and neither did I, and we ditched. It was—"

"You like her more now, don't you?"

When Kuroo received nothing more than silence from Kenma's end, he was certain. His precious, introverted, best boy had fallen for someone. It was a proud moment, almost.

"You have to tell her—"

"Kuroo, this... this is all I want to do."

"That's bullshit, and even you know that."

"What? You want me to open up to her and tell her I'm the YouTuber she's been gushing about for so long and I was the one who kind of pushed her into doing what she did, and so that she can hate me afterward for hiding the truth because I wouldn't be losing out on anything and she—"

"Whoa there, Kenma. I'm just saying go talk to her as her favorite YouTuber. You're overthinking this."

"No, you're underthinking this. I did what I had to do. It was... hard to see her like that."

Kuroo let out a sigh but before he could say anything, Kenma had already ended the call. That boy needs to grow a pair, he thought, a bit annoyed at Kenma's nature of avoiding his feelings. While Kenma believed it was for the best, he knew he was simply running away from it. Kuroo knew his friend adored (y/n), but the boy couldn't categorize that as real feelings because he's met her just once. Finding something real virtually scared him more than finding something real in real life, and while Kuroo wanted to understand that, it only annoyed him because Kenma wasn't even trying.

When you watched puddinghead0's recent video, you were jaw-dropped in awe and absolute admiration. Tears filled your eyes, but what was more was how his voice now seemed a tad bit familiar, though you didn't pay any heed to it since you've been following this channel for an entire year now. It moved you to know someone you've been admiring has been watching your content, but at the same time, he was speaking up for you? You wanted to thank him, you wanted to send him a message and say you were incredibly grateful for what he's done and the only way you knew you could say something was on Twitter.

So you mentioned him on a tweet and poured your heart out within character limit. You wondered if he would notice your tweet since you've mentioned him countless times before, but even if he didn't, even if he paid you no heed after all of this, you were still grateful. However, a second later, you received a new follower. You blinked upon noticing that it was Kozume-kun from the other day. A soft smile fell on your lips at the soft recollection of running away from a gaming event, after which everything spiraled, but you didn't in any way blame him. Your mind again drifted back to puddinghead0 and you sighed.

I'd kill to see him, man, you thought, eyeing your tweet of him dreamily.

A second later, there was a notification. You almost spat out your heart at the mere words: puddinghead0 likes your tweet.

puddinghead0 likes your tweet.

"Oh my god—" You choked on air. However, a second later, you found it difficult to remain sitting on your bed.

Don't thank me, I hope you're feeling better. You didn't deserve any of that.

Is that a—

...deserve any of that. <3

Fuck me.

Kenma almost dozed off in class right before it ended. It wasn't like it was school where the teacher would wake him up after noticing him asleep, no one really bothered. Kenma was pushed awake by the momentum of the class once it was over and he leaned back before gathering his things. Tightening his hair tie, he casually walked out of class and got to the campus. He spotted the event area, where the gaming event had occurred and instantly spotted his room-mate and a bunch of people gathered there. Rolling his eyes, he walked away from there, not wanting to gather any attention.

"Kenma!"

He had failed. Kenma froze to his spot before turning to spot his room-mate dashing over to him, a wide grin plastered on his features. Wrapping a hand over Kenma's shoulders, his roommate brought him to the others he was talking to, before releasing him.

"You're that guy (y/n) ran away with during that event, right?" One of them asked, and Kenma didn't bother to respond.

"Why did she run though? I mean, it doesn't make sense for her to just up and leave."

"I've been telling you," The same guy said, "She's not the one playing those games. She's just the face."

Kenma frowned. What is this dick talking about?

"Man, I think that's harsh," His roommate said, "I just think she's too chicken to play in front of people—"

"She's literally a streamer." Kenma said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but why did she—"

"If you can't understand that she doesn't owe you shit, then there's no helping it. She didn't want to play at that event, and she didn't. I don't see why you aren't calling me a fake gamer for running too." Kenma snapped.

The others shrugged, "That's because we've seen you play—"

"It's bullshit." Kenma said before walking away. You all are bullshit, he thought before the frown on his face settled into an uncharacteristic glare, directed at what who knows what.

A moment later, he felt his phone buzz with a notification. Kenma opened his phone and saw that he had a message from you, but what confused him was—

The message was directed to Kenma and not puddinghead. His heart jumped as his fingers roamed over the notification, wanting to open it only when he was in the comfortable confines of his room. Swallowing the bubbling anxiety, Kenma fought the urge to smile as he continued walking back, unaware of what the Twitter message could be. It would normally take him around 12 minutes to get to his apartment from campus, but that day, Kenma merely took 7.

On reaching his room, he finally allowed himself to open your message.

(y/n): Hey! I've taken a break from streaming for now, just wanted to let you know. I don't know why I'm sending you this message, but talking to you that day made me realize that I don't really need to seek approval constantly. Also, puddinghead liked my tweet and I'm a bit too happy so I needed to gush, don't @ me

Kenma chuckled, feeling his heart jump at every word you'd said. He knew you didn't realize that you were gushing about him to him, but that didn't matter. He wanted to gush about you too. He felt a stone stuck at his throat at how real all of this felt, despite having only seen you once.

Kenma Kozume: I think he's the sort of guy who isn't too loud about the things he likes. And I think a break is a good idea, (s/n).

(y/n): Call me (y/n), came the immediate response. Kenma's eyes widened at the fact that you were online, and that the two of you were currently exchanging messages live.

(y/n): Yeah, I got the feeling from his videos that he's perhaps a private person. I'm still really glad that he supported me, I can't thank him enough. I'm feeling much better already!

Kenma smiled, I'm glad that you are.

(y/n): Also

He blinked.

(y/n): Do you want to co-op at Bloodborne? I'm trying to get a platinum, haha.

"Fuck," He let out a breath before chuckling uncharacteristically. "You can't be serious."

(y/n): I'll send you my PSN, and you can add me as a party member. Only if you're up to it, I mean.

Kenma Kozume: Sure, sounds like fun. Also

Kenma gulped. He felt like this was showing off, but he didn't care. He was going to say it.

Kenma Kozume: I already have platinum in Bloodborne. :)

(y/n): Ah, screw you.

Kenma chuckled. He wouldn't admit it, but his heart was hammering against his chest and his palms were sweating. Soon, he'd be connected to you via the DualShock and the two of you would be co-oping in a game that was designed to make players fail. He wasn't too sure how much more his heart was going to take, and while he knew he had to tell someone, for some reason, Kenma wanted to keep this a secret. It wasn't because he was ashamed or he didn't want anyone to find out.

It was simply because it was too good to be true, and he didn't want to lose out on a chance to get to know you more. Because, if this kept up...

If this kept up, Kenma was surely going to fall in love with you.

395 notes · View notes

ethanharli · 4 years ago

Text

Parings: Tanjiro Kamado x Top Male Reader

Warnings: Cursing

DNI; if you use she/her pronouns.

[A/n]- I took this from my Seme Male Reader book on Wattpad so um- yeah! Hope y'all like it.

____________

"For fucks sake Tanjiro!" I grumbled, pulling the stubborn male down into my lap, not caring for the yelp that ripped through his throat as I did so. "Watch your language [Y/n]!" Tanjiros mother scolded, pointing a spatula at me with a scary gaze that I swear only mothers can manage. "Yes ma'am! I'm sorry" I smiled a bit before turning my gaze back to the tired red head resting against my chest, practically dozing off in my lap. I sighed through my nose, pushing the male up in order to brush my fingers through his long hair, earning a sigh of content from him, "You need to stop over working yourself Tanjiro, its not good for your health" I whispered just loud enough for him to hear while I fixed up his hair, pulling it into a small ponytail.

"And don't tell me none of that 'I'm the oldest' crap it doesn't matter, you shouldn't just put all these responsibilities on yourself like this" My eyes narrowed a bit, feeling a dull ache pull at my heart but quickly pushed it away, finishing up the ponytail in a quick motion. I've been around for a long time, just being a year or so older then the red head that I've known since he was born, after their fathers death Tanjiro made it his job to do whatever he could to help out, even if that meant he'd stumble through my doors at ungodly hours of the night because for once he knew he couldn't do something on his own. My attention was brought back when I heard soft snores and more weight applied on my body, realizing he had fell asleep against me as I was thinking.

"I'm glad he has you around" My gaze shifted towards Tanjiro's mother, who watched us with a loving gaze in her eye's, "He's such a stubborn boy, but he listens to you more than anyone" Her words caused me to pout when a blush crept up my cheeks, grumbling a bit under my breath I wrapped my arm securely around Tanjiro's waist while slipping my other one under his legs, lifting him and myself off the ground with ease. "He talks about you a lot y'know? He admires you, looks up to you, so truly [Y/n] thank you" My grip tighten a bit, not realizing until Tanjiro shifted in my arms, but I couldn't help the harsh pain that spread through my chest, gripping at my core with guilt weighing down on me.

You shouldn't be.

I bit back the words, and showed a fake smile before going to set Tanjiro on his bed. Gently brushing a few stands of hair out of his face before hesitantly leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to the scar on his forehead, "I'm sorry, but this needs to be done.." Was all I could utter out before leaving the house, feeling the first flakes of snow land on my [S/t] skin, looking back at the house I smiled softly, taking in all the memories I've had here, before finally walking into the woods. Letting a green glow coat my figure as I dragged my claws against a frail tree trunk, disappearing into the snow.

------

Blood seeped into the snow as a foot pressed firmly into my chest, slowly breaking the bone beneath it. "You really thought you could protect them? You're weak, and never stood a chance so just lay here and die" The breath was knocked out of me when I was kicked into a tree, forcing a searing pain to spread throughout my back as my canines pierced my tongue in order to hold back my scream, not wanting to give the male any satisfaction. "You're no guardian, so give up the act already" The words weighed down on me along with the previous scenes that passed through my mind, the screams from the kids I've grown to adore, the silent pleas of a mother begging for her childrens lives to be spared, he was right, I am no guardian, not anymore.

I don't remember how long I laid in the snow before I finally crawled my way over to Nezuko, after noticing she still had a faint pulse. My wounds took much longer to heal since I haven't eaten in years, and I've been fighting off sleep for as long as I could remember, my body felt as if it was giving out but I simply wouldn't allow it, not after failing to save the only people who took care of me, who gave me a home. Pulling Nezuko into my arms I felt tears slowly slide down my bloodied and bruised cheeks, "I'm so sorry Nezuko" I coughed out, not paying attention to the sound of footsteps approaching, nor the sound of something hitting the ground. "[Y/n]? Nezuko?" The broken whisper caused my eyes to widen in panic, looking over to see Tanjiro standing before me with broken, disbelieving eye's.

He quickly ran over to us, dropping to his knees frantically. "Wh-what- are you-" He fumbled, not forming any real words until I brushed my fingers against his cheek in a soft, soothing motion that always seemed to calm him down. Tears slowly spilled from those beautiful dark red eyes, "I'm sorry Tanjiro.." I held but an ironic laugh, knowing that the only thing I can and have done is apologize, but I slowly guided his face towards mine, resting his forehead against mine that formed a familiar green glow, "Please forget" I laughed out a saddened cry, shifting around so that I could settle Nezuko in his arms, "Please forget I was here."

------

"[Y/n]..?" A groan ripped past my aching throat, the feeling of webs tightening around my body restricting me from any movement becoming known once again as I attempted to open my eyes, feeling to weak to do so as I listened to the shed doors slide open, expecting Rui to enter and use me once again. "Get on with it Rui.. There's nothing you can do, That you haven't already done.." My voice came barely above a whisper flexing my hands a bit, causing my claws to sharpen by the slightest as a familiar warm feeling spread across my cheek, finally forcing my eyes to open, only to be meet with a beautiful dark red. "Oh, hi.." Was the only thing I could mutter out when Tanjiro looked at me through that familiar concerned glare of his, it was only a split second until the webbing broke, and the sudden weight of gravity pulled me down, causing me to land against Tanjiro's toned chest.

Sobs echoed through the rotted shed, feeling the warmth of Tanjiros body against mine sending me into a peaceful state as he cried into my shoulder, gripping tightly onto my bare bleeding torso. "I-I missed you so much!" The sudden cry made my ears ring, hissing a bit at the action, earning a string of apologizes from the red head when he placed both hands against my cheeks, resting his forehead against my own, just like I had done last time we saw each other. We sat there for a moment, breaths mingling along with the soft noise of sniffles coming from Tanjiro, tears still slowly falling from his eyes. Gently I took his wrists in my hands, watching as his eyes fluttered open, catching my gaze with his own.

"I missed you too.." My words fell on deaf ears when I leaned in, capturing his lips with my own in a slow, desperate motion. Feeling my heart slam against my ribcage when he kissed back, tilting his head to deepen the kiss while my hand moved to his cheek, being careful so I wouldn't accidentally cut him with my claws. Pulling away in order to fall against his chest, laying my head on his shoulder, slowly falling back into the comforting darkness.

------

A gasp ripped past my throat as I sprung forward, reaching out for the figure that still lingered in my distant memory, "Tanjiro.." His name rolled of my tongue with such longing that my chest ached at the thought of not being near him. Only for my eyes to widen when a calloused hand took mine in there's, seeing the male I had just called out for standing besides me with a worried yet relieved gaze. Turning towards him I watched as he sat down on the chair besides the bed I was in, keeping my hand in his as he did so, "I thought I'd never see you again" He whimpered out, tears slowly gathering in his eyes while his grip on my hand tightened. "And when I opened that shed I thought.. I thought you were-" With saddened eyes I quickly pulled the male into my lap, like I used to do all those years ago.

My arms tightened around his waist, desperate to finally have him back in my arms again, "Im still here though aren't I? I promise I won't leave your side again, not until you want me too" I uttered out, slowly remembering that he must know what I am by now, but here he is, not struggling nor screaming while in my grasp. "Then stay by my side forever! I can't.. I can't bare to see you leave again" The words weighed down on me, causing my shoulders to sag as I let out pathetic sigh until Tanjiro turned my gaze back towards him. His arms wrapped around my neck while his fingers laced through my hair, dark red eyes staring into my [E/c] ones with a deep wanting lingering within them.

His breath hitched when my eyes fluttered closed, taking his lips with mine in attempt to feel that warm loving feeling again, that only he could give me. He moved his lips with mine in a slow motion as his fingers tightened their grip on my hair, while I pressed him closer against me craving for more of the warmth he provided, along with the taste of his lips. Tanjiro gave me a look of confusion when I parted or lips, scrunching my nose up in slight disgust, "You taste like medicine" Was all I could speak before he erupted into a fit of laughter that sounded like music to my ears.

My eyes softened as I watched the male seeing his usual wide smile when I rested my hand on his cheek, gently running my thumb over the dark bag under his eye, "I love you Tanjiro, I always have.." I admitted, with a small grin.

"I love you too [Y/n].."

#male reader insert #seme male reader #tanjiro x male reader #demon slayer #fluff #kny tanjiro kamado #kny tanjirou

469 notes · View notes

moonlit-han · 4 years ago

Text

a sweet ride ↠ yang jeongin

genre: bad boy!jeongin, high school au, fluff word count: 3.5k warnings: swearing, mention of smoking & underage alcohol consumption, almost suggestive request: yes (yangomangos, prompt included: “Don’t cry.”) a/n: this one’s for the jeongin enthusiasts~

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

every morning as you wait outside your high school for classes to start

you hear the thunder of his motorcycle

it’s loud, mildly obnoxious, and occasionally spits out fumes

but you don’t care

you actually like the sound of the bike and how the vibrations rumble in ur chest

it’s a sleek black and built almost entirely by him: old chassis, long handle bars, and a satisfying growl as the engine ignites

if you stand too close when he pulls up in the parking lot in the morning, you can feel the vibrations coming through the pavement

(your mum would probably lock you in a tower only a knight could enter if she ever found out you’d been on a motorcycle

…..not that you’d been on one

yet (ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)? )

the owner of that motorcycle is your high school’s one and only bad boy

♡･｡.:*.ﾟyang jeongin ﾟ.*:.｡･♡

(but please call him “I.N.” because he’s actually out of the preppy, popular crowd ( ｀^´ ) )

he could ride that motorcycle straight through your heart and you wouldn’t care

okay maybe not your heart bc that would hurt (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

but definitely through your bedroom

that would be

f i n e (⊙‿⊙✿)

……….

all your friends cover their ears and turn away when jeongin pulls up

there isn’t a rule against a senior having a motorcycle and riding it to school

there are people who drive cars to school and that’s fine

he has a license and always wears a helmet

and he wears a thick leather jacket and heavy, black boots

(you’ve seen those boots

they look like they could stomp through concrete or smth)

there is no way he wouldn’t be safe

well, besides the fact that he rides a motorcycle

but you, still not caring, just kinda stare as he rides into the parking area in front of the school

he always does this cool lil swing into his designated “motorcycles only” spot

and then takes off his helmet

to do that fucking hair shake that you always see in movies

that can only mean “hot guy on a motorcycle”

fucking hell

oh and he then runs his fingers through his black hair

to make it appropriately ~windswept~

and, yes, he looks way too god damn hot

unnecessarily so in your humble opinion (๑`^´๑)

you almost flip your shit every morning just bc of him

he’s handsome like a fucking movie star

angled cheekbones, a defined nose and chin, a jawline so sharp it could ki— it could seriously hurt you

and don’t even start on his eyes

jeongin’s eyes are so dark you often wonder if they’re actually brown

if he looks at you in the halls, you immediately get the sense he could somehow see into your soul

and, judging by the dark aura he has, probably can

jeongin isn’t particularly horrible or anything, but he’s known throughout the school to, honestly, not give a flying fuck

about anything

he’s….a little chaotic

for example, he flouts any rule he doesn’t like

and he talks back if a teacher says something he doesn’t agree with

(this has lead to some very heated discussions in class

although, you were actually inclined to agree with him most of the time, since he usually brings up some good points and such

(it’s generally a good idea, you’ve mused on a regular basis, to treat people like human beings and not like machines only in existence to produce goods and perform services to a select few)

most of your classes are with him

and he’s really smart

like the kind of smart where he barely does any work but still passes the class with an A

i mean, who said he could do that??!!?!

who allowed such sorcery

heCk

and you know he’s passed all his courses

he may or may not occasionally smoke or drink behind the school but you know for a fact there are people who do much worse and nobody says anything about them

maybe it’s the leather

and the moodiness

but um;;;;; that’s kinda hot, you know?

you’re not really sure why people think he’s the “bad boy”...

you’ve never seen or heard him be mean or rude to anyone, so how bad can he be?

okay okay yes you’ve seen the knife hilts poking out of his boots

but who the fuck cares?!! ( • ̀ω•́ )

it’s not like he’s ever pulled them on anyone

that you know of

.............

and you’re pretty sure he knows you kinda watch him, too

bc one day he parked his bike facing the school instead of away

and you were just ~there~ as usual

but feeling very alone and exposed

since your dumbass friends had all decided to abandon you in your hour of need by walking away just before he rode up

and then, like a herd of sheep, they all turned to watch you as he did

ahahah friends? what are they?! nah don’t need them;;;

so there you were standing out on the pavement

very obviously looking at him

w e l p Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)

but, of course, he just had to look up

and this lil shit winked at you

actually winked

EXCUSE ME YANG JEONGIN

W H A T

;;;;;;;;;;;;

your friends teased you all day

“ooooh look it’s lover boy”

“shut up shut up shut up”

“but he just lookeD AT YOU”

“you’re lying”

“Y/N YOU FOOL”

“HHHHHHHH”

and it only gets worse from there (....um, you sure about that y/n?)

now whenever jeongin arrives in the mornings

he makes a point at looking over at you

you don’t always notice, unfortunately

and he ends up with a sad lil smile on his face bc he knows you’re having fun with your friends

but fuck!!!!

you’re just so!!! cute!!!!!

how can he not notice you??!!!

especially when you’re in all of his classes

and obviously watch for his motorcycle every morning

it makes him feel kinda cool, tbh

he’s also noticed that you like strawberries

a l o t (≧◡≦)

as in, your backpack is a strawberry

you have strawberry pins on said strawberry backpack

your raincoat has a pattern of strawberries on it

your pencil case may or may not be a lil cat eating, yes, a strawberry

jeongin being the smooth guy (he thinks) he is

gets you a strawberry sweetbread

and is all excited to give it to you

so after class on friday, he decides today’s his chance

(also, the sweetbread isn’t gonna last forever alfdjghafkgj)

aaaand you both try to walk out the door at the same time

which doesn’t work

but WOW YOU’RE NOW REALLY CLOSE TO HIM

jeongin: *vibrates*

ACTUALLY TOUCHING SHOULDERS

WHAT

…..fuck (￢_￢;)

and since when do you smell really good, too?? alkjhsjfghajhf

jeongin’s just a little overwhelmed, you know?

ANyWaY;;;;;;

y/n, blushing furiously: “oh my god sorry”

jeongin, spluttering: “no, no after you”

((oh wow his voice dropped since the last time you saw him

how is that even possible??? guys….))

after a couple tries back and forth through the doorway

(your teacher’s trying not to laugh in the background)

you finally both make it out of the classroom

and you start to speed walk away since your friends are waiting so you all can hang out

“hey, y/n!” comes down the hall after you

ALSDJHADJFLHG what ;;

you turn around quickly to find jeongin standing right behind you

“um, so i noticed you really like strawberries”

e x c u s e m e (O_O);;;

first of all:

yang jeongin—your school’s super hot bad boy, the guy you’re only a little obsessed with bc he rides a motorcycle, the inexplicably brilliant student, and total badass—just spoke to you

WHAT

((really, Y/N?? r e a l l y?????))

second of all:

he’s holding something wrapped in absolutely adorable cat (and strawberry) wrapping paper

that’s completely against his aesthetic

but matches yours to a tee ( ◡‿◡ ♡)

huh….

“y/n?” *holds out package*

you have to mentally shake yourself a little

but you’re back now

hhhHHHH

“me?”

“Yeah, I got you this. I hope you like it.” (●´ω｀●)

“thanks?” you say a bit lamely

you take the package and get a whiff of sweetbread

s w e e t b r e a d!!!! (*♡∀♡)

ajfhakljfhgjdsfgh your fav

you’d half expected jeongin to blast on outta there asap

but now he’s just standing in front of you, just kinda shifting back and forth

wait…is he nervous??

you slowly unwrap the package, careful not to damage the wrapping paper

(you are so going to reuse it or hang it on the wall or something ajdsdjfg)

and inside is a rounded sweetbread with strawberries delicately placed on top amongst swirls of pink icing

you gasp quietly

fucking hell it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

jeongin’s just watching you, a small smiling spreading across his face

(which you don’t notice bc b r e a d)

you take a small bite of the treat and

。*:゜♡ヽ(*’∀’*)/♡゜:。*。

IT’S SOOOOO GOOD!!!!

you take another bite before looking up at jeongin and you finally see his smile

( ◡‿◡ ♡) (♡‿♡) (*♡∀♡)

it’s actually the best thing you’ve ever seen

there’s so much genuine happiness, and just a hint of mischievous mirth, in his smile

you feel like you’re looking into the sun, it’s so bright

why did jeongin, of all people get you, of all people, a sweetbread?

jeongin, completely unable to look cool anymore and shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet: “is it good?”

“OH MY GOD YES!!!”

and then you do something you never thought you’d do

ever

in the whole world ever

you throw your arms around yang jeongin’s neck

and give him a really big hug

his arms come up and around you to hug you back almost immediately,

which you were expecting even less than your own actions

but his hug is wonderful, even if he’s holding you like fine china

in a moment, you remember yourself and quickly step back

jeongin is blushing so much that he looks like a strawberry

(so good you just wanna eat him up��(◕‿◕))

((y/n pls,,,,, not here....))

and you know you’re blushing just as much

you splutter an apology and run off down the hallway

and because you’re running off,

you don’t notice that jeongin is staring after

like a lovesick puppy (◕︵◕)

your friends are all over you about the sweetbread

bc they love it too

but you just say that you forgot you’d brought it with you that day

for some reason, you didn’t want to tell about your encounter with jeongin

when you get home, you savor the sweetbread,

remembering the warmth of jeongin’s smile~

the next friday, you’re outside at the picnic tables during lunch

it’s an absolutely beautiful day, with a light breeze~ (⌒ω⌒)

against the better judgement and fervent suggestions of your friends

you decide that it’s a great idea to get on top of one the tables

and dance

why?

someone had started playing ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”

no one can resist that song

so you’re having the time of your life

just dancing around on the table that your friends have since vacated bc they

a) don’t want to get kicked in the head, and

b) feel quite embarrassed to associate with you while you’re like this

......traitors (๑`^´๑)

and as anyone with an ounce of sense does when dancing to ABBA

you occasionally close your eyes in happiness

and suddenly you’ve stepped into air

your heart lurches and your eyes fly open

and your mind goes completely blank with panic

but you never reach the ground

you’re now surrounded by the smell of leather, metal, and.....

boy

someone had saved you from falling

the arms holding you are strong and well-muscled

and, surprisingly, comfortable

“i’ve got you,” a voice murmurs

you look up into the face of none other than jeongin

(⊙__⊙✿)

welp

you think to yourself “what... i thought he didn’t care about people??”

((nope y/n, he cares about YOU bc you’re the cutest and so lovely))

he smirks down at you, then sets you back down on the ground

“try to be more careful. okay, y/n?” he says, smoothing a wayward piece of your hair, then just walks off

you blush

(this seems to be becoming a common occurrence with jeongin)

and just stand there, dumbfounded

as jeongin saunters away to sit under a tree at the far end of the lawn

it’s a good saunter, and the tight, black skinny jeans only help (⊙ __ ⊙);;;;

your friends rush you, asking if you’re okay and asking what was up with jeongin

you say that you have no idea

......although, that’s not entirely true

since you now have a sneaking suspicion that *gasp* jeongin might have a crush on you?

maybe??

(hopefully!! (ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)?)

your friends just continue dithering as you stare at jeongin, who’s watching you right back

he winks

ALKJSDHGAKLDJFGADJKFGBADJF

you really wish he’d stop doing that bc it’s making your heart pound like a herd of horses and now yOu CAn’t EveN THinK

FUCK!!

later that day as school’s letting out

jeongin comes up to you, leather jacket slung over his shoulder

he’s got on a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up a couple times

and ooooooh my

you’d never noticed before

(well, besides during lunch when he caught you)

but yang jeongin has really nice arms

and pecs (⊙‿⊙)

and now you’re staring (oh fuck,,,,, not again)

“uh;;;; hi, jeongin!” you manage to squeak out alkdjfhsldjf

“hey, i was wondering if you wanted a ride”

eXCusE Me wHAt??? ∑(ﾟﾛﾟ〃)

“on the motorcycle. i have an extra helmet, since my sister sometimes rides with me”

O H

your mouth takes control before you even have time to think

“sure! i’d love to!!”

a minute later, you’re standing in front of that sleek, black motorcycle that you’ve admired for months

the young man riding it helps the matter quite a lot, too

there’s even this little carrier container on the back of the bike that he puts his (small) backpack into

he reaches out for yours and stows it

then, jeongin hands you a helmet with lime green racing stripes on its sides

you briefly wonder if his sister is anything like him

probably

“have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?” jeongin asks

you shake your head, unable to speak bc you’re so excited and also kinda nervous

your mom’s words fly through your head

don’t you dare get on a motorcycle, y/n. ever. don’t you dare! they’re too dangerous by half and— well, if i ever find out you’ve been on one, you won’t be allowed out of the house, except for going to school, for a month. you mark my words, y/n! (; ･`д･´)

you promptly ignore her voice in your head and slid the helmet down over your head

the world suddenly becomes slightly more vibrantly colored as the visor shields your eyes

jeongin had swung his long legs over the bike, straddling it with his feet still on the ground

“so, the important thing is to stay in line with me. what i mean is that if i lean to one side or the other, you’ve gotta lean with me. otherwise, we’ll fall over and that really wouldn’t be good. just hold on tight to my waist and, sorry i don’t mean to sound rude, but please don’t scream.”

jeongin looks only a little rueful as he says that

but you don’t blame him

you wouldn’t want someone screaming in your ears as you tried to concentrate either

“okay, right. lean with you. hold on tight,” you say

jeongin sits down, one foot still on the ground, and pats the seat behind him

“come on! take a seat—i promise you’ll be fine, y/n”

tentatively, you clamber onto the motorcycle behind jeongin

and wrap your arms around his waist

you can feel . . .

holy shit his abs feel like a fucking washboard

ExCuSE mE?????!!!! (＠_＠)

heCk

((y/n, pls. calm down;;; we know he’s got muscles))

so um,,,, yeah

it’s really actually quite comfy to lean against his back

but then hen he lays his hands over yours

and looking back over his shoulder says, “ready, babe?

B A B E

HHHHHHHHHHHH

***y/n has officially malfunctioned***

damn tho

this boy is bold as fuck

wow

you’re not exactly complaining

bc you now know that you like being called “babe”

it makes you feel special (✿◠‿◠)

and you like how it sounds coming from jeongin

you can tell jeongin is grinning under his helmet

“yep, i’m ready,” you manage to say

and then you feel and hear the thunder of the engine igniting

it’s exhilarating and you hadn’t even started moving yet

jeongin yells over the engine “hold on!”

in one smooth motion he kicks the kickstand up, brought his foot off the ground, released the brake and clutch

and then...

and then you feel like you’re flying

even though you’re not going 70 mph (113 kph)

the wind tears at your clothes

making you feel freer than you’d ever felt before~

you thought you’d guessed what it would feel like to ride on a motorcycle

but even your wildest imaginings couldn’t come close to reality

you hold on tightly to jeongin’s waist, feeling every shift of his body as he guides the motorcycle along the roads surrounding your school

all too soon you find yourself back in the parking lot of your high school

you don’t release your hold on jeongin until after he’s shut off the engine

jeongin takes off his helmet, shaking his hair as usual, and hangs it on a handlebar

then he turns on the seat

you lean back

but jeongin reaches out and gently removes your helmet to place it on the seat between the two of you

even without touching it, you could feel that your hair was mussed

so you shake out your hair, too

and immediately understand why jeongin does it

you feel strangely powerful and a bit sexy

it’s a fun, new feeling

jeongin smiles like you’re the loveliest flower he’s ever seen

and, for the second time that day, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear

“how was it?” he asks, a look of concern on his face

you beam, feeling infinitely more at ease around jeongin

“amaaaaazing!”

“yeah? oh, don’t cry, y/n”

“what? oh” you realize that you are, indeed, crying

you wipe the tears from your face

after all, they’re just tears of happiness

“jeongin, it was incredible, oh my god. can we do it again? please?”

he laughs, throwing his head back

and you glimpse the dimple at the base of his throat

“maybe another day, babe” jeongin concedes

you pout

“oh, okay. thank you”

there’s a look in jeongin’s eyes that you can’t quite place

is it sadness? fondness? desire?

he exhales, then the corner of his mouth quirks up

you feel the warmth of his fingers caress your cheek

“y/n, may i kiss you?”

***yet again, we regret to inform you that y/n has malfunctioned***

what the ever loving flipping fuck

d— did jeongin just,,,,

did he?

ALKJHGALKJFHG;AKLHFGAKLJGHKAJH

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” jeongin says in a rush, dropping his hand

shit.

SHIT!

“no no no!! it’s fine, yes. please. that’s fine. that would be— that would nice. yes, very nice.”

wow you sounded almost hysterical

“good,” jeongin says simply

and leans in to softly press his lips to yours

you immediately kiss him back

and feel him smile against your mouth

just a moment later, he draws back, respectful, a question in his eyes

you chase his lips, not wanting to waste the precious opportunity to actually be kissing the yang jeongin!!

his hands come up to cup your neck

and you rest your palm against his chest, feeling the trembling beat of his heart

he tastes like like elderberry and cinnamon and clove all wrapped into one intoxicating milieu

you could kiss him for days and never tire

after what seems like hours, you break apart

“y/n,” jeongin begins

“oh just shut up and keep kissing me,” you say without hesitation, surprised at your own boldness (again)

it seemed that was becoming a habit around jeongin, too

he doesn’t bother responding

and, instead, kisses you until you’re breathless

again, you feel like you were flying

* . ∗ ̥ ⋆ ݃ *♡٩( ｡⌒▽⌒｡)۶♡* ݃ ⋆ ̥∗ . *

347 notes · View notes

windywooshes · 5 years ago

Text

Douma x (F)Reader

~*:beloved short cut guide:*~

(Y/N): Name

(L/N): Last name

(H/C): Hair color [i.e. brunette, blonde, etc ]

(E/C): Eye color

--------------------------------------------------------

A rainbow. That was the first thought which crossed her mind when she peeked between the bodies of her parents and the two cult leaders.

Behind the excited chattering, was a boy, no older her age. He had silver hair and the most sparkly eyes the little girl ever saw in her young life. The boy himself was skimming the room, borred, until he locked eyes with the curious child. (Y/N) quickly hid behind her mother's legs with a slight blush covering her cheeks, when he smiled warmly over to her, waving his tiny hand as a gesture of welcome.

It seemed that the older female felt the curiousity of the (H/C) which was circling around her like a swarm of beez. Buzzing and summing. What would his name be ? Is he another kid whose parents joined ? Will he be her friend ?

Most questions were answered when she and her parents were led into the room. She was confused as to why her mother and father were bowing down deeply infront of the child. Tearing up, she was forced down for a bow as well. Her head colliding with the hard tatami matt, creating a blue spot the next day, probably. The boy's smile didn't vanish.

„Welcome to the cult of entire happiness~. May your stay bring joy and peace into your life. You may raise your head now.“

„Oh thank you, our beloved leader.“

(Y/N) raised both of her eyebrows in confusion. Leader ? Is she a leader as well ? There is no significant difference between the boy and her, after all. If this boy could bring happiness to her parents...would she be able to as well ?

She silently gasped. The girl would definitely make sure to ask the silverette how to do that. Life seemed to be very gloomy, whenever she was home alone with her elders. Loud arguments and ugly fights painted the nights in a muted color. How she longed for those old colorful days, where her father would embrace her mother tightly. Or the summer days where she was helping her mother with the laundry, laughing and enjoying the surring melody of the cicadas.

When the family exited the ceremony room, they were invited for tea to discuss the other details together. (Y/N) wouldn't stop thinking about the boy. Thanks to the mother of the leader, she was allowed to skim through the palace by her own. You wouldn't need so say that twice to her, as she immediately dashed her way out of the room.

To her disadvantage, the mansion felt like a labyrinth. Crossing many different rooms and areas but not the one she wished for. She sinked down on the wooden floor. Sniffles already escaping her nose.

(Y/N) was lost. But before she could even break out into tears, she felt a presence behind her. Turning around, she found the little boy from before. Her face lighted up on the spot as she made her way up to her legs again.

„Are you okay ? Where are your parents ?“

His voice sounded so soft, yet the words felt hollow. On a closer look, she noticed the colorful orbs to be dull. Without any emotion or life in them. How come such beautiful eyes, looked so cold ?

Douma shifted his head to the side. Was the girl deaf ? Could she maybe not speak ? Before he could say anything, he felt a tug on his hand as the girl suddenly grabbed it with both of her own. She was piercing holes into him. That was something he never had happen to him before. What a bold child, she was.

„Please teach me how I can give Mama and Papa happiness !“

Her voice sounded determined. Almost as if she blurted out a promise, she swore to fullfill and he was the only key which would lead to it.

Douma's eyes furrowed upwards. How should he confess to her that happiness is a fraud ? That there is no way to bring or become happy ? That it was all just a ghost of sensation inside someone's mind ? He placed his free hand ontop of one of hers, smiling again.

„I believe that you should find it yourself, as I am only a messenger between god and the humans.“

He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth he believed in. She seemed to be too pure and innocent to be painted in muddy hues by this harsh reality. The mansion was a place of peace. Of illusions. It was not his job to destroy them. Especially for one of hid future followers.

He watched her eyes drifting off from his own, onto the floor. Her eyebrows knitted together. For a moment Douma expected her to be disappointed but he was met with an excited expression instead. Her lips forming into a toothy grin.

„Right ! I think I can do it even without god's help !“

He was caught off guard for a moment. All the time he was seated on the throne, he only saw people bowing down to him. Praying. Sending messages to god for help, instead of searching for solutions for their problems on their own. Suddenly his heartbeat quickened.

„Oh ! I'm (L/N) (Y/N) ! But please just call me (Y/N) ! We should play a lot when you can~“

Her smile was as bright as the sun. Genuine warmth which he hasn't felt in a while.

„Please call me Douma. It's a pleasure to meet a new follower~“

Before the two of them could chat any further, a female voice could be heard, calling out the name of the (H/C).

„I think you need to leave already. I hope we will meet again.“

With that, Douma disappeared inside the room next to them. Just in time before (Y/N)'s mother arrived to take her daughter to the exit of the mansion.

Maybe, they could become friends after all.

Months passed with her family visiting the cult on a regular basis once a week. Sadly the girl couldn't make much progress with their friendship since Douma was only seen durring the ceremonies or private prayer appointments. It was a very frustrating visit every week but the girl told herself to keep trying.

She found a chance to approach him after hearing about the latest tragedy. Douma's father was found murdered by his wife while she herself took her own life by poisoning herself.

(Y/N) felt sad for the young boy. How would he live without his parents ? How can he live day by day, knowing about such a horrible event in his own home ? After all it seemed to happen inside of his ceremony room too.

She carefully peeked inside of the four walls, hoping not to interrupt him in one of his cleansing ceremonies. He was lying on his pillow, eyes closed. It seemed as if he was fast asleep from all the stress and preasure. Suprisingly, the room didn't contain any sight or smell of the blood bath.

Carefully the (H/C) girl, sneaked in her way infront of the pillow and starred down at the child with her big (E/C) orbs. It didn't take long for Douma to open his own, to gaze right back at the owner of the second pair.

„Do you wish for an audience ? I can squeeze in some extra time for you.“ he smiled brightly but it felt so hollow and cold as always.

Inching her way closer to the male, she carefully glanced around the room, making sure that no adults were close who could scold her for her actions.

The said boy just looked at her, confused by her behaviour but not questioning it any further until he felt small arms wrap around his body and the warmth against him. The colorful orbs blinked, not sure what to do or say in such a situation. It felt warm. It felt save. His chest tightened for a bit, heart beating louder. Something was dwelling up inside of him but he couldn't really catch this intruder. It was unknown for him. It felt just like the first interaction they shared.

Hearing sniffles, his bushy eyebrows arched up. Was she crying on his behalf ? Because of the latest events ? Douma couldn't even understand why she would make herself sad because of something what happened to him. It shouldn't matter to her. It was his life, his tragedy to bear, not hers.

„I'll make sure to come every day and play with you ! Pinky promise !“

Holding out her tiny finger infront of him, after leaving the hug, (Y/N) had a stern yet soft look on her face. The boy shouldn't feel lonely all by himself. She'll make sure to bring some fun and adventure into his life ! Only because he brings happiness doesn't mean that he can't have some of it as well, right ?

Douma on the other hand was just perplexed and totally unsure as to what to do now. He just ended up copying her and held out his own pinky infront of her. As quick as he could blink, she had both of their fingers wrapped up together and gave it one nice shake before letting go. Giving him a bright toothy smile, before waving her hand to say goodbye.

„I'll be back tomorrow !“

With that, the silver haired male was left alone in the room, still holding his pinky up, confused and unsure as to what just happened.

And as tomorrow came, (Y/N) dashed along with it. Somehow both kids managed to sneak out of the stuffy ceremony room into the big garden which was located in the middle of the temple. With paper squares in one hand and entwined fingers in the other, the (H/C) made her way over to the pond with the boy.

„(L/N)-san...I believe we are not allowed to trespass into the garden.“

Actually, Douma couldn't care less about the rules as he was the center of attention in the cult but he just tried to find a way to get back inside, since the bright sun burnt down on them, as it was already the middle of summer.

„Aw...you are no fun, Douma-chan !“ she puffed her cheeks out with her eyebrows knitted together but eased up once she handed him some square papers.

Seating herself on the stoned pavement, she started to fold and bend one of the thin sheets and managed to create a decent looking lotus flower.

„Let's decorate the pond a bit. It looks so bland and the koi seem to like the flowers too !“

Glancing into the reflecting water, he watched as two kois swam underneath the freshly folded lotus, trying to hide from the shining orb in the sky by swimming in the shadow of the paper figure.

Douma looked over to the side, catching the eyes of the girl and smiled a bit. He gently placed his hat down from his head and sat himself close to his companion. Watching her tiny hands gliding over the paper with each new fold. Copying her movements calmly, as if he had done this millions of times before. The girl glimpered her eyes in amazement.

„Woah ! It looks so pretty ! I'm sure the fishes will be happy about it !“

Her smile was just as bright as the afternoon sun, watching happily when he placed the flower gently into the water with a smile gracing his own lips.

Douma caught himself gazing at (Y/N) with his own amazement and curiosity. His chest was fluttering again but he didn't seem to mind it as much as yesterday. He just took her hand in his tiny one and smiled brightly.

„Let's make this pond beautiful together !“

The (H/C)'s face lighted up with his promise. Nodding her head in excitement, she squeezed his hand gently before continuing to fold new flowers to place into the liquid.

Years passed and the garden grew, along with the two kids. The new flora and fauna decorating the center of the mansion proudly.

Both , (Y/N) and Douma continued to care for it and the koi. Meeting up every day just for a bit tranquillity from the cult. The silverette was dreading for the small amount of time he could spend with the girl. After all those years, he grew to enjoy her company and her refreshing nature. Just like a fresh cube of ice durring a hot summer day, she was cooling him off and bringing him the relaxation he secretly hoped for since his early childhood days.

Douma was currently seated on the wooden floor which connected the garden and the house with each other. Gracefully folding a lotus flower from a peachy pink colored origami paper. Even though they planted real lotus in the pond, he still found himself crafting them whenever he was waiting for the (H/C).

Quick taps on the floor brought him out of his daydreaming. He knew exactly who they belonged to as he heard the same rythm for such a long period already. A smile waved upon his face when he caught the (E/Y) orbs and the slightly messy (H/C) locks of (Y/N).

„I told you that you don't need to run~ you might slip and hurt yourself as you did that time...“

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows together, cheeks tinting pink. That time, she was running through the hallways to find the devil himself. Well, the females search was successful. She managed to slip and bump right into him, sending them both onto the hard wooden floor, earning an earful afterwards from the cult followers who witnessed the whole fiasco.

„I've been more careful since then though !“

The male laughed at her reaction. It was always interesting to watch her flustered face and her movements along with it. Patting the spot next to him, he invited her over to enjoy the scenery of the garden and the cold breeze of the wind. She quickly sat down, back facing him as he took out a comb from one of his pockets.

It became a daily ritual for him to brush her hair after she arrived, since it always looked all over the place from her running. A time where both of them could have their peace from the loud city or from the other members. A small moment of recharging.

(Y/N) started to humm a small melody while she patiently sat besides the cult leader, while the man himself couldn't help but smile slightly. Admiring the soft touch of her hair against his fingers. He carefully inched closer to her neck and gave it a quick kiss, before leaning back again once he heard her shriek of surprise. Holding up his hands in defence, he couldn't hold back his chuckles at the entertaining ruckus she gives him. He earned some gentle smacks with the fan which the girl brought along with her. Cheeks puffed out and brught red.

Once she stopped she sighed and put her hands down on her lap, looking at the leaves which were swaying with the light wind. Douma followed her gaze but caught himself stealing some looks at the female next to him intead. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her against his chest. Surprisingly enough, he was not poked and shoved back. Feeling his company ease up against him.

„You should move into the mansion.“

„Huh ?“

„You wouldn't need to run here. We could enjoy the view even at night! It looks beautiful with the fireflies. I could comb your hair everyday. We could fold other paper figures~“

„You know that I can't do that...because-„

„Because of your sick mother, I know...“

Douma sighed and rubbed his temple. For a while now, you have been taking care of your ill mother since your father passed away. He knew your hardships and saw your bruised hands and legs from carrying the heavy vegetables everyday to sell them on the market. Just so you could earn some more yen to get both of you through life. And as disgusting and inhumane it sounded, he was wishing for your mother to finally pass away and free you from your slavery. He could offer you more. Anything you would wish for, it would be there in mere seconds. Yet you declined all of his offers up until now. Refusing to live life easy.

It made him frustrated but he respected your decision. Honestly, he couldn't care less as to what you make out of your life...right ? It should be like that but he still seems to grow annoyed by the constant rejection. Don't humans usually go for the easiest way ? Why wouldn't you do the same. Why were you so stubborn. A contrast to his usual followers.

„As you wish, my lotus~“

She sighed before poking him in the side, earning no reaction whatsoever.

„Here, I made this fan for you since you seem to hate the heat so much.“

Pulling away from the embrace, (Y/N) pulled out a beautiful golden fan.

„For our wonder and blessing, Douma-sama~“ copying one of the desperate cult members voice, she held out the item and bowed down deeply.

Douma chuckled and gently picked up the fan, answering in a mocking royal voice.

„I am grateful for your generous offering, my lost lamb. May you find happiness~ you may raise your head now.“

Placing a hand ontop of her head, he could feel the shaking of her body which came from the laughter she tried to hold back.

The wind chimes ringed with the gentle breeze which was traveling through the garden and another day ended with (Y/N) heading back home.

The next day, Douma was surprised to be alone in the garden. As well as the following. And the other.

2 weeks passed and he hasn't heard anything of (Y/N). But when he did, it was not a pretty sight for him to see. Her hands and cheek were swollen with bruises, she was dirty, her once beautiful (H/C) locks looked like a total mess.

Apparently his wish became true.

After (Y/N) arrived at home that night, she was met with the terrible fate of discovering her mother brutally murdered. It was a horrific sight. To her dismay, she met face to face with the attacker and almost got killed herself. Almost. If it wouldn't have been to the swordsman who beheaded the monster inches away from of her face.

The shock from losing her last family member and for almost having her life pulled away from her grasp, let her fall into sadness and fear. She couldn't move or eat for days. This also meant that she couldn't pay for her necessities in time, bringin the owner of the fields and house, home to her and beating her for the refusal of work over the time span. Taking away all left over possessions she was left with. Without a roof over her head or a job to feed her, she didn't know where to go or what to do. Once she snapped out of her trance, she found herself infront of the gates of the cult mansion and broke down into tears when she was met with the face of Douma.

The members helped her clean up and cutting her hair. Sadly it was so messed and clogged up that brushing wouldn't help. Which ended up with her hair becoming a bon cut. The bruises were bandaged and taken care of, in hopes that they won't leave permanent marks on her skin.

Once night arrived, (Y/N) made her way silently to the garden. Plopping down on the spot she usually sat on with the cult leader. Gazing at the small glowing dots which danced through the petals and leaves.

„It really does look beautiful...“ she whispered, not sensing the presence of Douma behind her.

He sat down next to her and looked at her face. It felt empty. Her sparkling eyes completely dull. Her voice drained of joy. Raising up his hand to touch her head, the impact of his touch resulted in a flinch and the girl backing away from him a bit.

„A-ah, I apologize...I was in thoughts...“

She tried to crank up a smile but it looked horrible. It felt as if everything bright and beautiful was taken away from him the second he saw her today. Attempting to show some kind of comfort he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame. Careful not to put pressure on the wounds and blue spots on her flesh.

„You will be well here...I will give you anything you want or need. You won't face any more fear. You will be safe. I will make sure of it.“

He felt her shaking, not from laughter this time though. Her sobs filling the silence of the safe haven they built up together. A beautiful summer night, yet it was so ugly.

The following weeks, Douma tried to fulfill any wish the female had. He would make his followers bring her the sweetest treats, the most beautiful kimono to wear, bringing her a fresh bouquet of flowers to decorate her room. To his frustration, nothing seemed to bring the smile back he was always curious about. The spark which brought him calm. Nothing of it surfaced, remaining shut inside of the shell which created them.

His actions seemed to have brought the dismay of his followers as well. Many females and males complained about his bias towards the (H/C) girl. He brushed them off, assuring them that he was just trying his best to recreate the happiness which the girl lost. But it didn't seem to work. Soon enough, certain members started to push her around, ignoring her or talking behind her back. Spreading rumours and untasteful remarks.

It seemed that it affected the male more than her as she was only sitting outside the garden, watching the scenery with an empty stare.

As days went on, (Y/N) seemed to become ill. Becoming weaker and weaker with every sunrise which followed. Soon, she was not being found outside but laying inside her room with the shoji door open, to bring some fresh summer wind into the square which caged her in.

The silverette made sure to visit her with each day. Bringing her the nutrients she needed along with the medicine which was prepared by his cult members.

„Douma...I'm grateful for the time we spent. Even though my life was not painted in colors...but whenever I saw you and spent time in the garden, it was filled up with them and brought me peace.“

Before he could respond, he was cut off by the female once again.

„I am aware that you cannot feel as I do. Or see as I do. Hate and greed, happiness and love. Those are emotions you do not possess. Maybe you never did. But let me confess you my love, at least now before I pass...“

Her voice was raspy and very quiet. If he didn't lean in closer to her, he would have barely caught what she tried to tell him.

(Y/N) proped herself up shakily, Douma helping her up as good as he could since he was clearly unsure how he could aid her. Once she somewhat sat up, she leaned against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. She was aware of his lack of emotions. Even from the early childhood days, yet she still grew to love him. No matter how empty and cold he was.

Pressing her soft lips against his cheek, she gave him a small peck before succumbing back into his arms.

Her last breaths were decorated with a genuine last smile she gifted the male, on his way through life without her. A talisman.

He burried her in the garden, next to the pond. Where she would remain one of his beloved lotus flowers. She was the reason why he grew to like them. And after the harsh winter and the visit of Kibutsuji, they were the only flowers which survived and stayed in the garden with him through all these years. The first and last memory of his humanity for a good while.

So fleeting. Like a rainbow after a summer rain.

——————

This was one of the two requests I received ! The next one will be another Zenitsu x Reader :) thank you for the love !

497 notes · View notes

shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years ago

Note

Would you be willing to do the NSFW alphabet with Cassian?

A/N: Gladly! Just as a reminder REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! These take just as much time as drabbles to finish and the tags hate me.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Cassian is downright clingy after sex. All he wants to do is hold you close and bury his head in your neck. He’s not letting you go for anything.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your hands. He loves how they feel against his skin whether your placing a gentle touch on his cheek or digging your nails into his back. He loves how your fingers intertwine with his. It keeps him grounded in the here and now with you.

Admittedly there isn’t much about his body that Cassian really likes. It’s more of a vessel to get his head from room to room. But you’ve been making an effort to show him how much you love his body. He is starting to grow an appreciation for his jaw line, considering how many kisses you seem to lay on it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Cassian loves nothing more than cumming in your cunt and your cunt exclusively. Even if you bring him right to the edge with your mouth, he’ll pull you away and all but beg to let him finish deep inside your pussy. He stands no chance of pulling out, he gets to lost in the feeling to pull away. And if you cum before him? He’s following you seconds after.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You and Cassian once had sex on top of the holo table in command center.

He got back late from a mission and you were the only one still on the comms. He hadn’t seen you in a month. So, rather than wait until your shift ended, he took you right on the table. It was one of the most intense experience of your life. Neither of you can look at that table directly ever again.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Cassian has had a few partners over the years, but not as many as you’d think. Touch in general is borderline sacred so having enough trust in someone to sleep with them is kind of a big deal for Cassian. He’s been around enough to have experience, though.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Honestly, basically any position where he can feel your whole body pressed against his. Whether it’s your chest against his, or him bent over your back, he wants to feel every part of you. He wants to bury his face in your skin while his hands cling to you like a life line.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

That’s going to be a no in the humor department. 9/10 he’s using sex as a way to tell you things he can’t always properly put into words: I love you, I’ve missed you, I need you, I can’t lose you. You’re the one more likely to initiate playful sex and if that’s the case, he’s just there to tease you with a dry smile on his face.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s actually got a good amount of hair down below and doesn’t really trim it. He keeps everything clean if he can, but not much beyond that.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it until the end of time: CASSIAN ANDOR IS THE MOST TENDER LOVER IN THE STAR WARS FRANCHISE!!! He makes love to you every time you have sex. Whether it’s slow and sensual or fast and rough it’s all about showing you how he feels about you. It’s emotional and intense and utterly intimate.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Cassian jacks off as a form of stress release every now and then. Some times in his bunk, but most of the time in the cabin of his ship. It gives him some much needed privacy without much chance of getting interrupted. There’s some pleasure it in, but it’s almost of way to sort out his frustrations on his hand rather than you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair pulling. Seriously, as soon as he’s getting anywhere near close all you have to do is rake your fingers through his hair, give it a hard tug and he’s gone.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bunk or his. Like I said, his goal is to make love to you every time you’re together, so having a place where he knows he can take his time is important. It’s a safe place far away from the problems of the Rebellion where he can get lost in you. A close second is his ship’s cabin.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I’m not sure how else to phrase this except, whenever he sees you. You guys are constantly coming and going, sometimes on missions together but often not. It can be a few days or a few weeks between seeing each other. But nothing really get him going like seeing you again safe and sound. The first thing he wants to do after you give your reports is get you to his bunk as soon as possible.

A close second is anytime he sees you kick Imperial ass. We all saw how he looked at Jyn. You know I’m right.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any foreplay involving you guys in Imperial uniforms. Seriously, Cassian is fighting space Nazis, having you in a space Nazi uniform is going to do the exact opposite of turning him on.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

It really is a toss up for him between given and receiving. He’ll never turn down a blow job and is always happy to get his mouth inbetween your legs.

He’s also, really good at eating you out; lots of small praises and moaning vibrations on your clit.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He leans toward the slow and sensual, but it really depends on how he’s feeling. There are times he can’t contain how much he needs you, tearing at your clothes and pulling you close to him like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. Other times it’s like he wants to memorize every inch of your skin as he listens in reverence to the noises you make.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies usually happen if you haven’t seen each other in a long time. As soon as Cassian gives his report, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the first empty room or cargo hold he can find and takes you against the wall. It’s fast and messy, but lacks none of the feeling. It’s also just a taste of what you’ll get later that night.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Probably, but you guys are both going to have to do all the proper research before hand. He’s honestly pretty happy with what you’re doing now, but if you want to try new things, it doesn’t take much convincing.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The longer Cassian and you have been away from each other, the longer he seems able to go. If you guys haven’t seen each other in a few days, it’s one fast one against the wall followed by a more thorough love making session involving at least two orgasms on your part.

If he hasn’t seen you in weeks to a month? Well, let’s just say you had to call in sick and nobody saw either of you for almost a full twenty-four hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

For himself, Cassian is more acquainted with his hand. Time away from base added to the possibility of having to leave at a moment’s notice means buying one hasn’t been on his priority list.

For the pair of you, you have a vibrator you like to bring in on occasion, but not much else. Same rules apply to you, being constantly on the move doesn’t give you a chance to build a collection.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not so much in the, “I’m having fun torturing you sense”. More in the, “I want to make this last as long as possible so I don’t have to leave the feeling of your body against mine” variety. He teases, but it’s more desperate than playful.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Years of thin walls have taught him to be quiet; however, he can’t help but moan your name against your skin mixed in with a serious of praises and cursed grunts towards the end.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He doesn’t tell you he loves you for a really long time.

You know he does, through his actions and all the ways he tries to make you happy. But, it takes a while for him to find the words. He’s truly afraid that if he says those three little words out loud, it will somehow jinx everything and the galaxy will conspire to take you away from him like everyone else in his life.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Perfectly average girth with slightly above average length (6-7 inches). But, you don’t need anything more than that.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s not so much a yearning for sex as a yearning for you. Sex is just a way to show you how he feels about you. He’s not a man of words, he’s a man of action. And sometimes the best way he knows to show you how much he misses you, or loves you, or needs you is to make love to you. So, with the knowledge that either of you can die the next time you’re out of each other’s sight, it’s pretty often.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Give him a few minutes to make sure you’re tucked against him with no plans on leaving and he’s out like a light. Seriously, nothing get him to actually sleep faster than a night of love making followed by you snuggled up against him. Nothing but pleasant dreams and darkness can follow that.

#cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #star wars #rogue one #star wars imagine #rogue one imagine #lemon

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