#anyways i need to work for one (1) more measly hour and then i can rest | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

f1daydreamers · 5 months ago

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𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: Here's Part 1 if you haven't read it already!

Warnings: mentions of divorced parents, sister lives w/ Reader, awkwardness, cliff-hanger but not that big of a deal tbh so soz anyways

Word Count: 1.9k words (7 mins reading avg)

…

"Kaia! You're going to be late!" You yelled from the kitchen, your voice echoing through the hallway.

You hurriedly placed sandwiches into a fresh sandwich bag and then slipped it into her college bag.

"Okay, okay. Can you chill?" Kaia's voice, slightly muffled, floated down from the end of the corridor. You rolled your eyes, placing her water bottle next to her bag with a practiced sigh.

"No, I can't. You can't be late again, they've already sent two letters home about your attendance." Your tone was firm but laced with a hint of concern.

"For being 10 minutes late? Bit extra," she retorted as she finally appeared, her hair still slightly tousled from sleep.

"No, for always missing your first class even though I always wake you up on time," you countered, a frown creasing your forehead.

"So?" Your sister shrugged, nonchalant as ever.

"So, if you get kicked out, you have to live with Mom or Dad. You know the deal." Your voice softened a bit, hoping the reminder would make her see reason.

"Fine, fine. I'm going." She sighed heavily, zipping up her jacket with a dramatic flair and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

You stopped her at the door, walking over to the far counter. She turned back to you with a very loud, exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes.

"Water bottle." You tossed it to her, which she caught mid-air, before she turned to leave.

"And make sure you go to-" Slam. You winced at the sound of the door shutting so harshly, the finality of it echoing through the flat. Your shoulders slumped.

"Class," you finished lamely, the word hanging in the air.

"Why am I a mom before I'm a mom?" You mumbled to yourself, rubbing your forehead in frustration.

You slid your phone off the counter, texting your dad a quick update that your sister just left. You'd let it slip about her attendance letters the last time you spoke, and now it was a regular point of concern.

A quick 'good' and thumbs up emoji followed seconds later.

Your eyes flickered over to the clock hung on the wall, noting there was a measly half-hour left until you were due at work.

Luckily, the office was barely a ten-minute walk from your flat. You packed your bag at a steady pace, making sure you had everything you needed. As you descended the stairs to the ground level of your complex, you waved to a few of your neighbors, all of them scurrying off with their children to avoid being late for school.

Some things never change.

...

You juggled a stack of papers that Lee had handed you right at the front entrance.

You eventually approached your office but with your keys clutched awkwardly in your other hand, and your bag precariously draped on your shoulder but now threatening to slip off, you fumbled to fit the correct one into the lock.

The papers teetered on the brink of tumbling from your grasp, prompting a flash of irritation to cross your face.

Just as you were about to lose your grip on them entirely, Curtis appeared at your side. "Need a hand with that?" he asked, his accented voice made him sound friendly and slightly amused.

You looked up, relief washing over you. "Yes, please."

He took the stack of papers from you, his easy smile making the moment feel less chaotic. With your hands free, you managed to unlock the door with ease.

"Thanks, Curtis. You're a lifesaver."

"No problem at all," he replied, plopping the papers onto your desk with a subtle thud.

"So, who'd you piss off?" he asked, pointing his chin at the stack of papers.

You chuckled, dropping your bag by your desk and draping your cardigan over your chair. "I haven't a clue, probably God."

He laughed, turning his shoulder to the door. "Are you coming down to the canteen for breakfast?"

You paused, considering the invitation. "What's on the menu?" You pushed your hair behind your shoulders, powering on your computer.

Curtis grinned. "Just about everything. You name it, they��ve got it."

You smiled, the tension from moments ago melting away. "Sounds tempting. I'll be down in a bit."

Curtis nodded and exited swiftly, leaving you with a sense of belonging. You'd been most worried about fitting in, about getting along with the players beyond mere professional courtesy. If you were going to be working with them for the next few years, building friendships was essential to you.

And maybe skipping breakfast wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

You made your way down the stairs for the second time today, smiling to a few familiar faces as you walked to the canteen.

There was a black board right out front, with the times for breakfast and lunch clearly displayed on it.

Your phone buzzed just before you entered. It was a message with a photo attachment from your sister.

You quickly opened the notification, letting the picture download. A ghost of a smile touched your lips as you rolled your eyes; it was a picture of her iPad showing a class presentation, with her classmates surrounding her.

You typed a brisk response before locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket.

Inside, there weren’t as many people as you’d expected. An equal mix of staff and players, some recognisable and some not.

Those you did recognise were engrossed in their conversations, laughing, smiling, some serious - a mixture of emotions painted on everyone’s faces.

It was refreshing to see something other than an email inbox for the first part of your day.

But there was one person’s emotions you couldn’t quite understand.

His back was facing you, but after staring at it during most of your confrontation a few days ago, it was clear as day as to who was standing at the front of the canteen.

You wrestled with your thoughts, weighing the pros and cons of approaching him. Mostly cons, if not all, but you couldn’t build true relationships with the players if you shied away all the time.

Crossing the floor, you grabbed a plate from the stack at the beginning of the serving line. You couldn’t help but steal a few glances at his body language; you were a psychologist, after all.

His tense shoulders and slightly furrowed brow told you he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but you pressed on.

Maybe it was just his resting face?

“Morning, Trent,” you greeted him with a smile, trying to keep your tone friendly.

He glanced at you briefly, unsurprised by your presence, likely having noticed you long before you approached.

“Psychologist,” he muttered, not making eye contact as he focused on the food in front of him.

“I must say, I admire your professionalism,” you quipped, attempting to lighten the mood, though the ensuing awkward silence made you regret your attempt.

“Any plans today?” You ventured.

“Training,” came his curt reply.

“Routine must be comforting,” You remarked, trying to maintain a conversational tone.

“Why are you talking to me?” he abruptly stopped in his tracks, his tone sharp.

You were fortunate to notice his halt in movement, otherwise you could’ve bumped into him if you hadn’t.

But judging by his build, you doubted even a nudge would’ve stirred him. His cold stare bore into yours, and you fought to maintain composure.

"Because I think you're a great conversationalist," you said with a smile. He paused briefly, rolled his eyes, then slid his plate off the tray rail and walked away.

A faint chuckle escaped you as you watched Trent walk away, his expression guarded. Sighing inwardly, you turned back to the serving line, reaching for a piece of toast with a mix of amusement and resignation.

One of the canteen ladies, her silver hair neatly pinned back and wearing a crisp white apron over her uniform, approached you with a knowing smirk.

Her eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief as she leaned closer. “Wow, haven’t heard a conversation that awkward since my first double date in ’97.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, grateful for her light-hearted approach. “Yeah, it was pretty rough, wasn’t it?”

You let a brief moment of silence pass before you continued.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Y/N,” you said, extending your hand.

Carol, as she introduced herself, took your hand with a firm shake. Her affable demeanour was a stark contrast to Trent’s disinterested reception, one you welcomed.

“Ah, the young psychologist. Lee’s mentioned you a wee bit. I’m Carol. Been working here since the beginning of time, or so it feels.”

“You look as young as me,” you complimented with a smile, noticing the genuine kindness in her eyes.

“Oh, stop it,” Carol chuckled softly, waving off your compliment. “How are you finding it here?”

You shrugged in response, glancing around the canteen before meeting her gaze again. “You really want to ask me that after what you’ve just overheard?”

Carol nudged your shoulder playfully. “I’ve heard worse back in my day. What’s happened between yous two?”

“Nothing,” you reassured her quickly. “He’s still getting used to me being around.”

“Well, if he’s anything like the Trent I know, he’ll come around at one point, just keep pissing him off,” Carol joked cordially, her voice carrying a touch of wisdom.

You nodded with a bright smile, tilting your head. “Yes, ma’am.”

…

As you sat in your small office, you locked your phone after messaging your sister to warm up dinner for herself, knowing you’d be home late.

Your mind wandered again - to your family, to your work, to him.

The glow of your laptop screen illuminated the dimly lit room. You had been poring over articles for what felt like hours, hoping to uncover more about him than he had revealed to you personally.

You had always found the internet to be your greatest ally when working with clients, especially world-famous athletes.

You wanted to delve deeper into understanding the anomaly that was Trent Alexander-Arnold, to move beyond your brief and often contentious interactions.

With a few clicks, you eventually navigated to interviews featuring him.

The first video showed him discussing mental health in football, a topic he approached with surprising openness. His words were measured yet sincere, revealing a vulnerability that contrasted sharply with what you had witnessed so far.

“I guess I’m not as trusting as some of the other guys on the team,” Trent admitted on screen, his gaze sincere as he spoke directly to the interviewer’s camera. “I’ve never been comfortable sharing my personal issues, outside of my family. There’s always a fear of judgment.”

You watched intently, feeling a pang of empathy as Trent’s words resonated with you. It was as if he was sitting right in front of you, confiding in you directly.

In another interview, Trent discussed the pressures of fame and the struggle to balance his private life with the demands of professional football.

His shoulders relaxed slightly as he spoke, revealing glimpses of a man grappling with expectations far beyond his years.

As you paused the video to let his words sink in, Trent’s earlier rebuke echoed in your mind.

“Don’t expect me to pour my heart out to some stranger. Especially on someone else’s schedule.”

Then suddenly, a light bulb went off in your mind as you rattled through all the different strategies you were taught at university.

You realised that perhaps your approach with Trent had been too clinical, too focused on schedules and protocols.

Without hesitation, you opened your email and addressed a message to both Arne and Lee.

Your fingers tapped out a request, concise yet loaded with implications that only you understood fully.

For now.

…

Part 3

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx

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milkweedman · 2 years ago

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Wanted to know how much faster spinning on my wheel is compared to spinning on a supported spindle--specifically, I wanted to compare the yardage I could produce on each tool within a given amount of time. I chose to use my russian supported spindle because it was next to me and empty, and spun on a 13.5:1 drive ratio (the medium whorl) since thats what my wheel was already set to (and to be fair, i rarely use another ratio). I spun some nice gray roving because i didnt want to use hand prepped fiber for it.

The experiment was thus: I set up my spindle/wheel (attaching fiber and spinning just enough to get started, then marked my place with some scrap fiber), set a timer for 20 minutes, and spun continuously until the timer ran out. I chose not to include the set up in my timing because that only happens at the beginning, and in a test this short i was pretty sure it would skew the results a little. I also never paused the timer when the fiber broke and i had to reattach it, since that can happen repeatedly while spinning and realistically does affect how fast one can spin.

After 40 minutes of spinning, i had these two singles, shown on the bobbin/spindle and then skeined up.

No surprise there--obviously i spun more on the wheel. The pictures are actually pretty deceptive though, since i was not aiming for a particular weight and just spun what came naturally. On the wheel its much much thicker than on a supported spindle--a heavy fingering weight singles compared maybe a heavy cobweb singles. But the purpose of this experiment was to see the yardage specifically, and--

On my wheel, I spun 54 yards/49.3 meters in twenty minutes

On my spindle, I spun 17 yards/15.5 meters in twenty minutes

Which is just over 3 times faster on my wheel. I'm actually pretty shocked by that--I was predicting AT LEAST 5 times faster on my wheel, and I honestly wouldnt have been surprised if it was closer to 10. But nope, a measly 3.

Which is pretty cool to know. Before this experiment, if I had to spin something on a deadline, I would always have picked my wheel to spin it on. But now im actually thinking it may be a draw, maybe weighted just slightly in favor of the spindle for a few reasons--i have limited ability to spin on my wheel since it's more painful by far, but also my spindles are way more portable. So if, for some reason, i had to spin a hat's worth of laceweight singles ASAP, doing it on spindles that i can use in the car/on the train, at work, in bed, etc, would probably be a more efficient way of doing it than sitting at my wheel for two hours, ending up in quite a bit of pain and potentially triggering a flare up.

The chief slowdown of the spindles is the logistics of the temporary cop, since it means that for every length of yarn you produce, you are winding it by hand three times--the first time onto the temporary cop, the second time onto your hand once the temporary cop is full, and then the third time onto the actual cop at the base/middle of the spindle. This is kinda unavoidable--you dont need a temporary cop for drop spindles, for example, because youre spinning much longer lengths of yarn at a time, so for each time that you have to wind it up the spindle stick to get to the tip, youve spun at least an armspan of yarn, potentially up to 2. Whereas on a supported spindle, much less (anywhere between 3 inches/7.5 cm to 12 inches /30.5 cm depending on what I'm spinning). I dont know exactly how much slower it is to forego a temporary cop, but i highly suspect its far more than the slowdown of winding thrice. Maybe ill check at some point, but i dont really want to (ive tried it, and its extremely tedious).

Anyway, suprising but heartening results ! Would be very interested to hear the results of others if anyone else wanted to give it a go for their own edification. (Im actually really curious what other spinners speed is ! And would be interested to hear drop spindle or other hand spindle speeds even without a comparison to another tool !)

#im also pretty pleased to learn that i spin close to a yard a minute on my spindles #and bear in mind that russian spindle is not among the fastest spindles that i have. pretty sure with a full cop im easily spinning #a yard a minute on my faster spindles #long post #yarn experimentation #handspun yarn #spinning #supported spindle #spinning wheel

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whoiskt · 3 months ago

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Grad School Q4 - Week 1

All my classes are on Mondays and Wednesdays, so maybe I'll bring this back for Friday summaries.

Here's a Lloyd sketch that might become part of my business card. Working on that right now among many things!

I wasn't really ready to go back to school but rarely in my life have I ever felt that after summer break. This quarter is all required classes, which isn't the most fun but I'll get by okay. Plus, all the classes are pretty much back to back, which gives me such flashbacks to high school, since I'm just in the one building all day.

Anyways, I'm currently kind of nervous because to complete my MFA by the end of summer 2025, I need to go up for review this quarter. But it's required that I have taken 45 credit hours of 700 level courses. Unfortunately, 10 of my 45 credit hours are 500 level courses, so I am technically not eligible. But, since the thesis class is only taught once a year in the winter quarter, missing this milestone would mean pushing my graduation to 2026, which I cannot do, not spiritually and definitely not financially. So, I am asking for an exception to be made, and that is TBD. Because I have a lot riding on this, so I am really very nervous for the answer. We shall see.

I guess worst comes to worst I can switch to an MA. Let's be real... I am not professor material, anyways.

But to get to my week in review: My first class is a writing class. I got excited because I imagined I could do a Lloyd Void spin-off as my main project for this class, one that is geocentric in the sense it would follow my character Earth as a slice of life comedy before the events of LV. However, for this class we were sorted into short groups, and they prefered my sailors and music idea (the one I have been writing as a movie) and I might choose that. I am stuck with the ending, and maybe working that out in the class (since the class is only writing a measly 20 pages) is a fine use of my time as well.

My second class is a studio, and I am making LLOYD VOID KEY ART for the PITCH! This honestly is the most scary thing, because I have to make 9 whole completed illustrations in 10 weeks, and I think my current record for completed illustrations in 10 weeks is something like 4, with some VERY lazy bgs, which I am not allowed here, so wish me luck.

Finally, my last class is something something coloring? Honestly not fully sure but day 1 we had A LOT of hw already due for class 2. (we also had to color a page of a comic but I am not showing that here)

The artist is Lois van Baarle. THIS IS NOT MY ARTWORK I JUST COLORED IT:

Unexpectedly my prof said, "This is very well-done, perhaps even once of the best versions of this I've ever seen." I was shook. I have been studying color all year, trying to get better, but I never expected such a compliment.

I want to get better at reflective lighting still but I have definitely been feeling more confident in palette choices, at least.

Anyways, that's all for now, definitely more artwork to show you next week, bye!

#grad school blogging #lifeblogging

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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 11 months ago

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Pretty cool answers :D no need to apologize for the delay.

1: how does a person make the duo upset? Like making fun of Chris being adopted.

2: I know the duo fights for justice & all, but what “event” would cause them to become like injustice Superman?

3: like brothers do, what’s does Chris & Jon fight about? I can see them fighting over Chris’s teddy bear when they were younger.

4: does Chris, Jon, & Kon have a secret handshake?

5: what’s the duos favorite ice cream flavor?

6: A game that Kon, Jon, the super twins & Jake can play: a game of freeze tag with Kon being it.throughout the city of metropolis, he has to tag everybody within 2-3 hours while the “runners” are trying to stay away from him & doing superhero work; if Kon captures one person, that person will get 1 week from no superheroing, & the more he tag the more weeks extended. If Kon fails to win within the time limit, he’ll take everyone to get ice cream & gets a super-wedgie. Does he mange to win or gets hanged from a street lamp by his pink heart underwear? XD

Thanks for understanding friend @pin-crusher2000 It’s appreciated XD

1) Insulting their costumes when faced with them in patrol, generally saying bad things about their respective families, totally disrespecting Superman and/or the Titans, being a Grade A Bigot of all kinds, and insisting with smugness that Green Arrow’s chili isn’t that spicy; all of them are sure fire ways to get the Duo glaring at someone.

2) In alternate Earths where respectively, Chris would join his Father’s side/ likely usurps his control over the other renegade Kryptonians either way resulting in Earth having said renegades institute a hostile takeover of the Earth while Jake makes a deal to become either The Court of Owls’ ‘Grey Son’ or Deathstroke’s new Apprentice who then takes down the World’s Heroes, all of these have a single common root: Should they say lose their loved ones, best friends, their cities including most of its inhabitants, all of that in one fell swoop to a nefarious supervillain and not enough comfort or reaching out from the other heroes, that’ll break them and their morals become corrupted with the single idea that if they only gone further than they told themselves, tragedies like those can be avoided from happening ever again.

Of course though, for a main (ish) verse, they’d rather cease crime fighting and all sort of super heroics officially before any turn to tyranny or villainy is ever considered.

3) Besides probably who can keep SuperBear for the night as you say when they were smaller, I can also see the Chris and Jon race each other to the bathroom if they both need to go, who gets the last tater tot, who controls the remote for the TV as their favorite shows have the same time slot despite differing channels, and finally who’s turn on the video game it is. About 3/4 times, Jon’s usually the one instigating these tiny feuds due to his stubbornness.

4) Two Up Highs, Three Down Lows, Fistbump, Shoulder Pat, Fistbump, Shoulder Pat and Side Hugs. Its short sweet and to the point

5) Chris: Cookies n Cream with Hot Fudge, Rainbow Sprinkles, Dried Banana Chips, Whipped Cream, and a Single Cherry

Jake: Neopolitan with Chocolate Sprinkles, Macadamia Nuts, Strawberry Syrup, Pretzel bits and of course Whipped Cream

The two have tastes. What can I say? lol

6) Conner barely squeaks out a victory in this game but one measly second before the deadline closes; able to barely get to Jake within the tiniest poke as the latter was flying at all his speed to the Grayson Apartment, just about to each the doorknob when he was tagged.

In spite of this victory though, Conner was a good sport and took everybody out for some ice cream anyways, all on him.

#chris kent #jake grayson #starburst duo #injustice #mention #au #court of owls #general zod #slade wilson #jonathan samuel kent #connor kent

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wendynoire · 2 years ago

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"And if you even try to escape you will-"

"I'm not planning on escaping." I interrupted the clearly long speech the villain was planning to recite to me, I could see the paper they had written it on.

It was the 5th time this week I had gotten kidnapped by some petty villain all because of that stupid hero. I gave them a bad review for group work one time and they pulled that stunt. Of course I rejected them, but they kept following me everywhere, always with flowers.

Stalking isn't acceptable unless it's by a hero, apparently.

Everyone thought our relationship was "so cute" I had no choice. The asshole even admitted to not liking me and only doing it to ruin my life.

"What?" The villain turned back to me, between surprised and disappointed. "You're not planning to escape?"

"Nope. This bed is better than mine, and you made my kidnapping known, so no work or uni stuff for me to do. Plus I'm sure you planned ways to stop me leaving and honestly I'm pretty lazy." I flopped back onto the soft bed.

Being a villain must pay well if a captive is getting a bed like this.

"Ha! I see, you must be trusting the hero to save you, well, they won't be-"

"Yeah, not really. Don't trust them in the slightest, if you finish them then that's the end of this charade. If that happens I am sure you will take me back home considering how oddly polite you were when kidnapping me. Like I said, I don't care how long this takes, but they started this, so they are the one who has to fix it." I raised my loosely tied hands.

"You... Don't seem worried about your partner." The villain seemed to have had all the wind in his sails removed.

"Partner? Sir, we do not like each other, let alone date. All of this is because I gave them a bad peer review because they would never do any work and wouldn't even warn us." I gestured at everything.

"So you know their secret identity?" The villain suddenly looked more interested.

"Raine Whispers."

"Isn't that a character from-"

"Yes it's a character from The Owl House, what? You think I'm crazy!" I yell, sure, there were villains who would break my arm at least for this, but I highly doubt this is one. "Anyway, I have been working for 2 days straight, you broke my coffee machine, and I am running on fumes. Please leave so I can get some sleep."

"Someday you are going to meet a villain who will kill you for this." The villain muttered.

"But not today." I waved as they made a show of locking the door behind them.

Honestly with how performative this villain is I honestly wouldn't be surprised if the door couldn't be locked. I really don't care though, I might at least get an afternoon out of this.

They made a big show of kidnapping me, but left no location to find this place, even I don't know where I am. The hero had left a tracker on me a few weeks ago, but I destroyed it almost as soon as they planted it on me.

What matters to me is that I am tired and the bed is soft. The soft rope around my hands slips right off as I curl up to sleep.

-----

"My lo~ove!" The hero's booming voice awoke me, but they still seemed quite far away.

Groaning, I turned to face the clock in the room to see how long I slept.

1 hour.

I had to get kidnapped, again, for 1 measly hour of sleep???

At this point I might just become a villain myself I swear to god.

Only about an hour and a half from when I was kidnapped and the hero is being surrounded by people praising them for their bravery for saving me, again. I want to wring their neck.

"You look like you need some help." A woman with long, shiny hair approaches me.

She's wearing a tight fitting outfit, mostly black, but a little red and purple in there too. It's her eyes, really, that captivate the attention, it must be the lighting, but they almost look purple, and I can't seem to pull my attention away without some work, and it ends up back there again before long anyway.

"What do you mean?" I finally find my voice, she's beautiful, and her voice is enchanting.

"Call me, you'll know what I mean." She leans in close, whispering right into my ear, I can feel the head radiating from her body and it's making my brain stop working. Touch starved and pretty women, huh?

She slipped a card into my hand and left before I could say anything else. Like a fool I just stand there, cheeks warm as my heart races.

"Ah, can you tell us how this kidnapping affected you?" A reporter shoved a microphone in my face and immediately the rush from talking to that woman disappears.

-----

It wasn't until I got home, where there were now several officers stationed like I don't deserve privacy, that I could see the card.

It's simple, the same colour scheme as her outfit, a number, and, in very dark writing, "helpful villain".

I couldn't help but laugh, I don't know what she was going to get out of this, but as far as I can tell, this is an offer to get me out of here.

I call the number, I cannot wait to be free from this hero.

"Hello sweetheart, what can I do for you?" She answers, it feels as though she's right next to me.

"Uh... H-hello. Um, you, you gave me your card earlier." Damnit why can't I speak?

"Yes, I didn't expect you to call so soon, but I am glad to hear from you. What do you want me to do?" Her voice is so smooth I have to remind myself to speak.

"W-well there are police surrounding my apartment and... And they're going to follow me to classes, they're not letting my friends or roommates in, and I have to pick up the extra rent that causes. Uh... I really need to get out of here. I never want to see that 'hero' again." I try to stop my hands shaking.

"Okay sweetheart, give me a moment I will be right there." I usually hate being called that, but from her it doesn't feel diminutive.

The phone call has ended, but somehow it still feels like her voice is clinging to me. I don't know how she's planning to get in if I can't even get food delivered, but it also wouldn't surprise me. I've been kidnapped a few times since the police started following me, not to mention the amount of extra work I need to do.

"Hello dearie!" She called, entering through the front door like it was nothing.

She's now wearing black skinny jeans, a black crop top, and a dark purple cardigan. Her nails were long, sharp at the end, and were painted blue. Her eyes still looked purple though.

"Ah, um, hello. I wasn't expecting you so soon." I am suddenly very aware of my trashed apartment. "Would you like something to drink? I have water."

She laughed, it was beautiful.

"Thank you, sweetie, but no. We're going to have a little talk, and then probably both of us will go." She gestures for me to sit as though this is her office and this is an interview, I don't argue though.

"What do you want to discuss?" I don't think I've said anything to cause this, but equally I don't really care.

"Well, the possible ways to reach your goal. I could simply kill the hero, I could hire you, I could kidnap you and hide you away, I could change how you look, or I can kidnap you and make it look like I brainwashed you into needing to stay by me." She smiled widely.

"Is it really kidnapping if you have my permission?" I laugh too.

"Isn't kidnapping more a state of taking? I will be knocking you out for the bit, but I promise it won't be painful." She reached forwards and started playing with my hair, making my breath hitch.

"I -" words are hard to form when she's so close. "I would like the last one. Where you make it seem like you brainwashed me. I don't want to draw too much attention to where we are, but I want to be able to do things."

"Alrighty," She stands up, she's quite tall now that I think about it. "Stand up and come here."

I do as I am told, standing quite close as the purple of her eyes seems to grow stronger, being desperate for my attention. Nothing else seems to be happening though.

"Hmm," She breaks the silence after a moment of us staring into each other's eyes. "It seems you have some immunity to that. No worries, nobody is immune to this."

She pulls me close, and I feel something on the back of my neck. My vision starts to blur, getting clearer after I blink, then getting blurry again. This happens faster each time.

"Good girl." She's playing with my hair again, my head leans against her and my eyes close.

I guess I'm into villains.

You are dating your city’s superhero not because you like them but because they publicly asked you out, making you a target for the supervillains and paparazzi.

#no beta read #no beta we die like men #first draft #yeah idk #lesbian #idk what you expected #i'm gay #this will be gay #gay #yes I know the tense changes but I don't care enough to edit

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cymbelinaa · 3 years ago

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The Quirkless - Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (CHAPTER 1)

Katsuki falls hard for the main lady in an entertainment show called “The Quirkless”

CONTAINS: smut, semi-public sex, quirk uses, Katsuki calls reader “quirkless” one to many times, sprinkles of angst, dangerous stunts.

Chapter word count: 800

CHAPTERS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

"The Quirkless".

The most notorious circus and entertainment show in all of Japan. Known for their overly-wild and downright dangerous performances. What makes them so special, though, is that all of the members who perform.. are quirkless. Proving that even without a quirk, that they are talented individuals with power, a very inspiring motive I'd say.

A good amount of people though, crave one thing at this circus. The main lady. She is the bravest of them all, pulling some of the most dangerous stunts out there, such fire and passion in her work.Katsuki shouldn't have come to this stupid show. I mean, what's so special about a little measly tricks here n' there? Near the end of the performance, he was a bit wondered by some of the dangerous stunts that went on, but still a little grumpy.

Then the shouts began, the crowd was waiting for something, someone. He was at loss for words when he met the eyes of the main lady.

They were now in the large fairgrounds area, a few blocks away from the main attraction of the fair, "The Quirkless". The large tent was peeking above all the visible rides and attractions, it was a very large tent.

"I still don't fucking get why you felt the need to bring me here." His voice was gruff and harsh, and it's not hard to tell who it comes from.

Katsuki Bakugou was now in his mid 20s, and was clearly starting to tone down a bit from his hot-headed teen years. It was still there, though. It would be there for the rest of his life, but not as bad at it used to be.

"Dude, we just thought you could use a break. You're way higher in the rankings then us, so your work is totally more packed then ours. It wouldn't hurt if you took a breather." Eijiro was right, he DID work alot compared to what he was used to these past few months. Crimes and accidents were at a pretty drastic high, but.. a circus? There were many things his friends knew he had an intrest to, and the circus was certainly not one of them. Infact, he had never been to a circus before.

Rather enticing music made Katsuki snap out of whatever daze he was in, and he and his 2 friends quickly started to see the gold glowing letters at the top on the circus tent entrance. Plently of yelling and shouting could be heard from the inside.

"Yeah man, don't worry though." Denki was the one talking this time. "This circus is like.. the best in the country, no, the whole world! Especially the main lad-" He was cut off quickly.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I don't really care, if it can take my mind off work for a few hours then I guess it'd be worth it... say. Is alcohol allowed in here? "I mean it's a young adults and adult only show, so I wouldnt be suprised if I saw booze in here." Denki proclaimed. "I even got my own!"

"Try not to wave it around, Denki. We just got here, do you wanna risk being kicked out?" Atleast Eijiro was a bit smarter then Denki. "Oh... right. ]Anyways, I'll need ALOOOOTTT of booze when I see the main lady!" Katsuki's ears perked up a bit at that. The main lady.. hm?

"Oh? Who the hell's that supposed to be?"

Ejiro spoke before Denki was able to get the words out of his mouth, who knows what he would say.

"The main lady is what alot of people look forward to when coming here. She's the one who does alot of solo dangerous performances. Of course there are more, but, let's just say she's.. very passionate and.. attractive."

Katsuki immediatly felt his eyes roll, they were so hyped up over this show.. for a woman?

"That sounds stupid."

"It's really not! I think the motive of this show is very inspiring, I have been here before, it's so cool!" Eijiro nodded along at Denki's words. "Trust us."

Katsuki had no choice but to follow along. Not that he'd admit it, but a bunch of quirkless people putting together dangerous acts was a rather brave move. He was actually quite interested.

When they walked inside, Katsuki seems rather suprised on how big the tent actually was. This was only the entryway before they got to the seating areas. Thousands of people were scattered around the large tent, with more to come since Eijiro begged to be atleast a little bit early for good seating.

...

The show was going to begin soon. By now, Katsuki and his friends had sat in their seats, and had gotten their selected beverages and food.

"God... when is the show gonna start?? This is really starting to piss me off-"

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! WELCOME TO OUR SHOW. WE ASK ALL AUDIENCE TO KEEP A SAFE DISTANCE AWAY FROM STAGE TO PREVENT ANY ACCIDENTS. NOW, WE PRESENT TO YOU, THE MOST NOTORIOUS ENTERTAINMENT GROUP OF THE COUNTRY.. THE QUIRKLESS!"

Next chapter date: Unknown

tags: @rosalini @cactu-chan @catsuki-bakutoe @izukushospitalbed @bakusatsuhoe @mimi-louuwu @ simply-not-the-same @

randomhuman112 @freakysimp @mentallyunstableuser @zeroredacted @kirishimaisthatbitch @heart-of-pots-and-pans @demonsimp6 @ lovelylace72 @ @ bakugousporchmonkey @ pocketofsunshinesposts

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki smut #mha #my hero acdemia #bnha #mha smut #bnha smut

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kiranatrix · 3 years ago

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What Comes Out in the Wash

Day 1: Hair @deathnotetober

Characters: Light, L, Watari, & mentions of Sayu // Rating: Gen; platonic (or Lawlight if you squint) // Summary: L wakes up with a huge rat’s nest in his hair and Watari says ‘handle it yourself,’ so Light has to help.

Co-written with @resilicns

——-

Sleep was something that was becoming increasingly rare for L to achieve these days, and when he did, it could hardly be called restful. He’d spend those few measly hours tossing, turning, kicking, and just squirming in general. When he slept on his own, this was hardly an issue, but now that he was sharing a bed with Light, things were getting a bit complicated.

L grunted quietly, pushing his elbow and forearm down into the bed as he lifted his head up off of the pillow, resting on his side. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he gazed around the room drowsily, trying to desperately grasp for awareness, until his gaze landed on a mirror. He lifted his other hand to feel his hair, touching the knotted mess he had noticed in his reflection. His hair was almost comparable to a bird’s nest at this point. Grimacing, he lifted the receiver off of the phone on the end table, pressing the button mapped to dial Watari’s phone in his office. He held it up to his ear and sighed quietly.

“Watari? I need you to come to my room. My hair is in need of brushing this morning,” L muttered, wincing as one of his fingers caught on a tangle and yanked the strand in that brief instant.

“Apolog--” Quillsh had covered the receiver to try and mask his hacking cough but it still came through the line. “Apologies, sir. It seems I’m unwell. I wouldn’t want to infect you with whatever I have. It’s quite dismal.” He held the phone away to sneeze several times into a monogrammed handkerchief. “You’ll have to make do on your own today.”

L paled slightly, holding the receiver away from his face for a second to stare at it as if it had personally offended him. When he held it back up to his ear, he sighed quite loudly. “I suppose we’ll have to inform the task force that they have the day off, today. However,” he frowned, pushing himself up into a sitting position as he clutched the phone. “Who will brush my hair? Who will prepare my meals? Who will select my clothing?” While he knew the latter was not necessary, the panic in his voice made it obvious he wasn’t thinking clearly.

Light opened one eye to see what all the fuss was about, frowning as he glared up at L. He hadn’t even gotten to sleep until after 3 am because L insisted on bringing his laptop to bed, loudly clacking on the keyboard and munching on panda cookies. The clock on the nightstand said it was just 6:30 am. I’m expected to work on a measly 3 hours sleep?!

“Can you keep your voice down, Ryuzaki?,” he huffed while turning over. “I’m not getting up until 7 and that’s that.”

Quillsh replied to L, “Everything will be fine. You know as well as I do that all your clothes are the same, no selection required. There are cakes and fruit in the refrigerator, and instant coffee if you can’t bother with the coffeemaker.”

He sighed tiredly, barely able to muster the energy needed to argue with L. “As for your hair...no time like the present to pick up a brush and try it yourself.” It was really past time for L to do that anyway but it meant time not focused on work, and was thus always deprioritized.

L gritted his teeth, gripping his own hair in his hand as his anxiety spiked just from the thought of trying to brush it himself. “But-..!” He stopped himself, squirming and making the bed bounce slightly. He completely ignored Light, his attention entirely focused on the call. “…alright. My apologies for disturbing you. Please get some rest and take care of yourself,” he murmured, quietly saying his polite goodbyes before hanging up the phone.

He turned to face forward, glancing at Light out of the corner of his eyes. He stared at the younger man for only a few seconds, moving to the end table and pulling out one of his hair brushes. He took a deep, loud breath to try and settle himself in preparation. However, no amount of preparation could prepare him for the instant pain that followed one frantic and barely-effective brush through his hair. He immediately chucked the item away from himself, hugging his knees to his chest in defeat.

Light snickered into his pillow and looked over his shoulder. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to try?” He turned over to face L, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Don’t tell me that the World’s Greatest Detective has been defeated by an eeeevil tangle,” he teased. He couldn’t help but rub it in a little after all the grief L had put him through lately.

L shot Light a bitter glare, his eyes slightly moist from the shock of pain. “It is painful, and I am choosing to avoid engaging in painful activities. I will just wait until Watari is well enough to brush my hair,” he huffed, averting his gaze. In truth, he knew his hair would only be even more impossibly tangled- potentially unsalvageable by the time the man was no longer ill.

“That is…” Light sat up and leveled L with an unimpressed stare. “...the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just going to get worse if you put it off, and who even knows if he’ll be better tomorrow.” He leaned closer to examine L’s bedhead and let out a low whistle. Somehow, in the span of just 3 hours of sleep, the back of L’s head had gone from normal looking (for him) to a mess of matted, knotted hair. “Ok, I’ll admit that is pretty bad. I think even your tangles have tangles.”

He looked from the chaotic labyrinth of hair to the discarded brush thrown in the corner. L’s going to be a miserable grouch all day if this doesn’t get fixed. That made even the prospect of having the day off seem unappealing given who he was chained to. Plus, every moment they weren’t working, he was denied the chance to clear his name.

“Let me take a crack at it.” He glanced at L, giving him a little shrug like ‘why not?’ “It’s not like I can make it any worse.”

“You could still hurt me,” L muttered, glowering at Light. His expression was similar to a pout at this point, as if he was on the verge of crossing his arms and huffing.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Light sighed, still half-asleep. “I used to brush Sayu’s hair all the time when she was little.” Under his breath he murmured, “Anyway, you’d just tag on an assault charge onto my long list of ‘crimes’.’”

L hesitated for a moment before climbing off of the bed and retrieving the brush. Thankfully it wasn’t too far that the chain would cause any issues. He set the brush down in front of Light and sat down with his back towards the man. This is a terrible idea. However, if he goes out of his way to harm me, I can hold that against him.

Light picked up the brush tentatively, making a face at how overloaded with wiry black hair it was. “Hold on…it’s not going to do any good like this.” He pulled off the hair and dropped it from pinched fingers in the trash can beside the bed. “Ok, now we’re ready. Just...” He trailed off as he blinked at the back of L’s head-- specifically, the tumor-like protrusion of hair sticking out from the back. How could it have possibly gotten this bad?! Maybe I’m out of my depth here. “Um. Do you brush your hair every day, Ryuzaki?”

“Watari brushes it in the morning when it needs it,” L murmured, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. “He brushes it less now that I’m older.” Or now that he’s older.

Light fingered a few tangled tufts but didn’t pull, just surveying the damage to undo. “Have you...thought of using conditioner?”

L had to fight the urge to tilt his head, instead making a soft humming sound as he considered it. “No, I believe using soap for all of my washing is still the most efficient option. I see no reason that liquid soap is not enough to wash both my hair and my body.”

Light made a noise between a choke and a gasp, finally forcing out, “No...no, it’s...no, not at…” He sighed in exasperation, suddenly understanding why they were here. Closing his eyes, he said calmly, “After I untangle this, I’m washing your hair with shampoo and proper conditioner, got it?” He counted to ten and opened his eyes. Well, nothing to do but get started.

Carefully, he focused first on brushing the parts that weren’t tangled (or not as badly) to get a sense for the thickness of L’s hair and how tender-headed he was. Light knew that probably even a normal tug or the slightest discomfort might end this endeavor; he had to tread carefully. “This would be easier if you sat still and stopped fidgeting.” He placed a hand on L’s shoulder to try and keep him in one place, but quickly pulled back in case he’d overstepped.

L stiffened up slightly, biting his lower lip. However, instead of pulling away, he mumbled a quiet apology and did his best to keep his body still. He continued to fidget with his hands, rapping his fingers on his knees as he sat there, flinching occasionally when Light pulled too hard for his comfort. In truth, none of it was comfortable, but the man’s touch was surprisingly bearable. He wasn’t nearly as harsh as he had expected he would be, and it seemed as if he was adjusting to L’s reactions. “If you insist,” he mumbled, huffing quietly.

As Light got closer to the epicenter of the tangle, he started to sweat a little. Wait, is that--? Finally he had spotted the catalyst for the rat’s nest. A half-eaten lollipop was embedded and wrapped up in L’s hair, with the stick poking out at a jaunty and infuriating angle. “Ryuzaki…” He touched the stick, wiggling it slightly. “Did you happen to be eating lollipops in bed last night?”

A deep shade of red bloomed in L’s cheeks, travelling far enough to peek around his neck. “...no,” he mumbled, his tone incredibly sheepish as he blatantly lied. He couldn’t stop himself from squirming now, staring down at his hands as he shifted on the bed. He knew Light would be able to tell, but some small part of him felt embarrassed enough to try and hide it.

Light leaned to whisper in L’s ear, “Liar.” He gave the stick a little tweak. “The evidence speaks for itself, detective.” He laughed and shifted on the bed, reaching for a bottle of lotion in the nightstand. “This calls for desperate measures. That brush isn’t going to help at all,” he said, tossing it aside. “Not until I get that lollipop out.” With Sayu, he’d once used peanut butter to get some chewing gum out of her hair but really anything oily would do. He settled behind L again and squirted the lotion on his fingers, working it into the knots. “This might hurt a little but you don’t want to walk around with candy in your head do you?”

“It certainly sounds like a convenient carrying solution, freeing both of my hands to do work,” L muttered, his lips twitching faintly in amusement at his own joke. His breath hitched and he hissed quietly in pain as he felt his hair being tugged. “Ow...” He whined, his hand twitching briefly with the urge to reach back and swat at Light’s hand. “Be more gentle..!”

“Sorry,” Light mumbled. “Got a little too focused.” He slowed down his pace and methodically peeled away the hair from the sticky candy, nose wrinkling at the unappetizing gloops of lotion and red sugar coating his fingers. But, it was working! Bit by bit, knot by knot, the lollipop finally came free.

“Got it!,” he said triumphantly, holding up the mangled sucker. It was odd how satisfied he felt. Maybe it was because L only complained half a dozen instead of three dozen times, but he was all smiles as he showed it to L. “The accused stands before you. How do you judge?” He giggled and held it over the trash.

L was shaken and tense by the time Light was finally finished. It wasn’t that the man had hurt him- no, the process was quite painless after the first few tugs. However, he kept expecting pain, anticipating it, even though it never came. Once the man was done, he relaxed, staring at the candy. For once, he didn’t have the urge to shove the sweet into his mouth (although that may have been because of the hairs protruding from it).

“…guilty,” he mumbled, plucking it from Light’s fingers and dropping it into the trash can. He reached back to touch his hair, immediately grimacing at the unpleasant texture of melted candy and lotion mixed with hair. “…I suppose I’ll be needing my hair washed after all,” he muttered.

Light frowned a little that his joke had flopped, but what did he expect? “You’re welcome,” he grumbled as he got up off the bed to the length of the chain. “Come in the bathroom then and I’ll wash it in the sink. Need to wash my hands, too.” You don’t deserve my nice hair products but that’s all we’ve got. He’d be damned if he’d use liquid soap like L usually did. Just the thought made him shudder, rattling the handcuff chain between them.

L followed Light into the bathroom, shedding his shirt in the process to avoid it getting wet. He unclipped his end of the chain to remove the shirt completely, immediately latching the chain back on after. “How should I stand?” He stared at the sink in mild confusion, unsure of how to wash his hair in a non-shower setting.

“Over there,” Light gestured with his chin, “until I clean myself up.” He maneuvered around L and turned the water on with his elbow, scrubbing furiously until all the melted lollipop and lotion swirled down the drain. Why am I bothering to help him? I should have just left it there and taken the day off. I need one.

He dried his hands and grabbed his shampoo and conditioner that his mother had brought him from home, purchased from his favorite salon. The sleek bottles only reminded him of how much he needed a haircut, of how much he’d taken for granted all the little freedoms like that. The reflection looking back at him in the mirror-- bangs hanging in his eyes, wispy strands long enough to tuck behind his ears-- reinforced it. L may be a mess but so was he. The realization didn’t help his mood any.

He gave L a cold glance and pointed to the still-running warm water in the sink. “So...just stick your head under the faucet.”

L glanced back and forth from the sink to Light for a moment, as if unsure of what to do. He then moved closer to the sink, leaning down and hesitantly pushing his head under the water. He immediately jerked back when some ended up in his ear, an uncharacteristic squeak escaping his lips as his face scrunched up. He tilted his head, shaking it as if trying to get the water out. His hands rest on the sink, gripping it tightly to keep himself upright. Once he had calmed down, he took a deep breath and put his head under again, this time keeping it there as he closed his eyes.

Light crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg. If L couldn’t even stand the water, a molecule of soap in the man’s eyes would send him through the roof. “Hold on, I’ll get a chair and you can just lean back.” He went to do so but the chain tugged him back sharply. How many times will I forget? I’m anchored. “Um, can you release the chain for a moment? I’ll be right back.”

Much to his own surprise, L reached out without even hesitating, unclipping Light’s end of the chain. “Be quick. I think I can feel it hardening,” he murmured, grimacing as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wanted to cooperate, he truly did, and he could only hope that was coming through in his actions and words.

Light blinked as the chain thunked to the bathroom floor. He did it? He stared at the coiled chain like it was a dead but still dangerous snake before snapping to attention and heading into the bedroom. It had been over a month since he’d felt 360 degrees of freedom but he couldn’t enjoy it, even though he wheeled L’s office chair into the bathroom slower than necessary. He felt a little shaken that his first instinct had been to run, but why? What did he have to run from? I’m innocent…

“Sit here and lean back so your head’s in the sink.” He rolled up a fluffy towel and placed it on the edge of the counter. “That should make it more comfortable.” He added drily, “Don’t worry, I didn’t stuff any razors inside.” Not that I’m allowed any. A few months ago he’d been the top student at To-Oh and now he was playing hairdresser with a man who wanted to execute him.

L didn’t bother grabbing the chain again, wanting to give Light more space as a gesture of appreciation for what he was doing, since he couldn’t really find the words to verbalize that feeling. He nodded and sat down in the chair, leaning back and resting his neck on the towel. His face scrunched up slightly in discomfort as he tilted his head back, suddenly made very aware of how stiff his neck was.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I trust you.” Of course, that’s partly because it would be too big of a risk for him to try anything right now, but I also don’t think he’d want to…

Light arched a brow at that lie and squeezed shampoo into his hands. “Sure.” Trusts me when it’s convenient for him. He avoided looking at the chain, not wanting to remind L in case he forgot. I know he didn’t forget.

L’s face was as unreadable as ever so he just got on with it, lathering L’s hair into fragrant suds and taking care that no soap got into the man’s wide-open eyes. The smell of grapefruit and sandalwood in the bathroom started to make Light relax, the tenseness falling from his face. After a few minutes, he couldn’t feel any more sticky candy embedded in L’s hair and rinsed it clean. “Alright, sit still. Conditioner’s next.”

The feeling of Light’s fingers massaging his scalp was incredibly relaxing for L. He did his best to keep his face impassive, forcing himself to focus on the feeling of wetness on his forehead, but, eventually, even that wasn’t enough. By the time Light was rinsing his hair out, L’s eyelids were heavy and his expression incredibly relaxed. Most of the tension that was normally present in his body was gone. “This…feels nice,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he stayed still for the man.

Light couldn’t help but smile faintly at the praise. It was gratifying that he’d done well, even at this insignificant task, when it was for his harshest critic. His mood lifted considerably-- maybe this day wouldn’t be a wash after all. Wash, pft. He snickered to himself and turned the water off, then smoothed the conditioner in L’s hair to the ends.

Tilting his head, he said, “Your hair’s longer than I thought.” When wet and not fluffed up by frizz, it looked almost twice as long.

L’s body felt almost loose at this point, and part of him wondered if he would slide out of the chair. Even the feeling of Light barely pulling on his hair was soothing by now. A faint smile curved his lips as he closed his eyes. “That makes sense. It’s been a while since Watari last trimmed my hair. I’m not very fond of the sound of scissors so close to my head.”

“Now we wait. Five minutes and then rinse.” Light glanced down at his watch and leaned against the counter. This might be an awkward five minutes.

L shifted his legs, letting one stretch out and dangle off of the chair. “I didn’t expect that this would be so…pleasant. You’re very good at this, Light,” he mused, his relaxed state loosening his lips ever so slightly.

A little heat rose to Light’s cheeks. “Uh...thank you. I guess I have my sister to thank for that. I was her babysitter for years and her hair gets tangled easily, too.”

He smiled when a funny memory sprang to mind. “One time she managed to get a whole package of modeling clay stuck in her hair and I had to scrub for an hour to get it out before my parents got home from dinner. When my Mom noticed it was gone, Sayu told them she ate it.” He laughed to himself, remembering the horrified looks on his parents’ faces. “Of course, we fessed up before they called poison control.”

L’s lips twitched for a moment before he burst into laughter, holding his hand up in a failed attempt at covering his mouth. His laugh shook his entire body, a big grin forming on his face. When was the last time I laughed like this? Have I ever? I can’t recall feeling this good before now. “That- that’s quite impressive,” he managed to say after a few seconds, starting to calm back down and catch his breath. “What was she trying to do with the clay? Style her hair?” He chuckled, opening his eyes to look up at Light.

Seeing L smile was surprising but when the detective laughed, Light was shocked. But that laughter was infectious and only made Light giggle harder. “I think she was trying to make some kind of space helmet? Who knows, she was only five then,” he said between chuckles. I miss her. I wonder how she’s keeping up with her math homework. His laughter faded away.

He looked down at L, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh and mean it.”

L’s expression softened, turning thoughtful and slightly sad. “Yes, I suppose it is. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.” He sighed, stretching out his arms for a moment as he averted his gaze. “I guess that’s just something else you’re good at, hm?” He arched a brow, smirking a bit in the subtle, mocking way he usually did. However, there was no malice to his tone. Instead of attacking Light, it seemed like he was attempting some good-natured ribbing, as if between friends.

Light blinked and gave L a puzzled smile, waiting for the barb to come. Unexpectedly, it didn’t, and he wasn’t sure what to say. L being nice was as strange as L laughing.

He glanced down at his watch anxiously. “That’s five minutes.” He turned on the warm water and rinsed the conditioner from L’s noticeably softer hair. Any residual tangles came loose immediately when he combed his fingers through it and he started to get curious about how it would look when dry. “Alright,” he said, turning off the water. “All done. Your tangles are a thing of the past.”

He turned his back to L to dry his hands on a fresh towel. “I guess it seems like a waste of time to use the conditioner but it saves time in the end for brushing. I can give Watari the information if you want me to.”

L shifted in the seat, looking over at Light with a contemplative expression. He sat there in silence for a few seconds, just staring at the other man until he finally spoke. “I suppose you can. That would be nice. But also, while we’re sharing a living space…if you wanted to- ah- do this more frequently…I wouldn’t protest.” He averted his gaze and cleared his throat loudly.

“Wouldn’t protest?” Light turned around sharply, feeling annoyed at L’s assumption. The words ‘I’m not your servant!,’ hovered on his parted lips but died there when, somehow, he saw L clearly. The man was too proud to ask directly for what he wanted. They had managed to connect in a way that wasn’t only detective and suspect, jailer and prisoner. Light had felt it, too, and he craved kindness after his long isolation, this ongoing tense situation.

He watched L for a moment and quietly said, “Alright, but no cuffs when I do it.” He smirked and added, “And no more lollipops in bed.”

“I agree to the cuffs, but I can’t make any promises about the lollipops,” L joked, smiling as he sat up and pulled the towel over his head. He picked up the chain, staring at it for a second or two before clasping it onto Light’s cuff. However, instead of immediately pulling away, his hand lingered on the man’s wrist. “…thank you, Light,” he mumbled, the sound barely a whisper as he lowered his gaze and pulled his hand away, standing up straight.

Light grinned and tossed L a towel since the man was dripping water everywhere. So it didn’t kill you to say it after all.

“You’re welcome.”

#death note #light yagami #l lawliet #my writing #collaboration #resilicns #deathnotetober #lawlight

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pradaksj · 4 years ago

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the swimming lessons

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader

❧ genre⟶ swimminginstructor!jungkook , fluff, a bit of comedy? head canon/bullet points

❧ rating⟶ e for everyone??? none??? idk how ratings work lol i just know that m = the dirty, which this story has none of

❧ word count ⟶ 5,000

❧ summary ⟶ accidental swimming lessons with jungkook were definitely worth the money

❧ a/n ⟶ i literally dreamt something similar to this in like january and told myself i'd write about it when i had the time so hear i am :)) this goes out to all my folks who can’t swim !! i'm on the same boat with you , get it? cause we can’t swim ... ok anyways ... enjoy ! (note: i have not proofread this yet so sorry for any mistakes!! ill get to it soon !! )

“hello, welcome to lucky duck swim school, how can i help you?” the receptionist, who was loudly chewing her gum, sounded more like an automated voice message than a person...

see today was your first official swimming lesson

yay!!

how fun!! ...

://

totally not embarrassing for someone your age !!!

honestly, it wasn't your fault you didn’t have any family members or friends with a big pool you could learn in growing up

and by the time you did, you were too much of in an awkward phase to be properly taught

aka your body absolutely refusing to float on its own anymore

but after several trips to the beach with friends and attending different pool parties, you were tired of being made fun of !!

no longer would you remain at 5 feet and under !!! not on your watch !

and so here you were, ready to start your journey into the world of swimming :))

“hi i um have a swimming lesson at 3 with um ... i believer her name was um—”

hmmm what was her name ??? jennie??? no, maybe it was aaliyah ??? no that wasn’t it....

the receptionist taps on her keyboard buttons, her long nails making a noise

pop, her bubblegum goes

“jungkook”

“yeah jungkook” you mindlessly say.

wait

WAIIITT

jungkook????

ummmmm

that was not the game given to you by the last receptionist

jungkook is a boy’s name !!!

you didn’t want a boy instructor !!!

not with the way you were looking

“i um—i had asked for a girl instructor—” you awkwardly mention

she rolls her eyes

um RUDE

she continues clacking with her keyboard, looking for god knows what

she sighs

“there’s no slots with female instructors available for today, nor for the rest of the month, the earliest i can probably squeeze you in by is july.” she bluntly states.

JULY???

july was when you needed to already know how to swim !!

that’s the peak of summer !

there was no point in knowing during winter or any other season besides summer for that matter

and you were not going to get made of by your friends this year

no no NO

“soo do i reschedule you or.....”

you sigh

“no ill take it” you pout, resembling a child.

“it it makes you feel any better, jungkook’s our best instructor, most popular too”

wink

oh yeah that makes you feel so much better

>:(

you were going to make a complete fool out of yourself in front of the so called “best instructor”

“well go get yourself washed up, get into the pool, and jungkook will be with you shortly” she smiles, her attitude now changing now that (what looked to be a supervisor) was passing by.

what a bi—

flip flop. flip flop. flip flop.

your sandles press onto the water on the floor of the girls locker room, a grouchy look now on your face

this wasn't fair

you made an appointment with a female instructor!!

you didn’t care if he was the best instructor or the most popular ...

squeeaaakkk , you twist the rusty shower handle

...because now you were you were going to be judged for your lack of skills

not that you had any to begin with, but still!

god, you sounded like such a karen ...

it’s just ...

a guy instructor ???

really???

you understood that this wasn’t elementary school anymore and boys certainly didn’t have cooties anymore but like ://

no no, you had to give this jungkook guy the benefit of the doubt

if he was one of the best, it was clearly because he was professional and good at what he does

putting your worries to rest, you turn off the shower

this was going to be fine

just fine

clearly your worries were not put to rest

just a temporary halt

pat. pat. pat.

okay let’s get it !

making your way out to the pool, you dip your foot in

ooooo

cold

VERY cold indeed

1 ...2...

you dip your whole leg in, quickly using the momentum to place your whole body in

“5 feet and below ... you’re my bitch !!” you think to yourself

your hand still clearly gripping onto the ledge, still afraid of accidentally reaching 6ft

.... now to wait

“megan seems to have fractured her leg last weekend on a rollerskating day gone bad, so you’ll be taking up her appointments for the next month of two until she’s cleared for work”

huh ???

“but—”

“also she, well now you i guess, have a lesson to teach at..”

jungkook’s supervisor looks down at his watch

“oh i guess in 30 minutes, could’ve sworn it was at 4..” he mumbles that last part to himself

30 minutes?!

“don’t worry i’ll up your pay for the remaining time that she gets better”

he winks ;) making a clicking noise with his mouth before leaving the staff room

jungkook sighs

today was supposed to be an easy day :/

a simple cleaning of the pool along with a couple of measly hours of being the lifeguard and that would’ve been it but noooo

he just had to be the highest rated swimming instructor on the company website

he couldn’t complain though, sometimes it was fun reading the reviews past students left, even if sometimes they were a little too...

whats the word...

provocative?

it often made him wonder if he was in fact an actual good swimming instructor or if the high highly rated reviews were for other reasons....

honestly it’d be dumb of him not to acknowledge the amount of googly eyes he’d get ranging from the mother’s of his younger students to his actual adult students (female and male)

he just liked to think that didn’t come into play when they wrote their reviews

hehe

changing into his black fitted rash guard, he glanced at megan’s schedule

name : y/n

age: 23 grown

swimming level: beginner aka noob.

he chuckles to himself

well won’t this be fun

he couldn’t lie beginner adult swimmers were always a spectacle to watch

they almost reminded him of baby ducks learning how to swim

only that they’d verbally curse their frustrations here and there

quickly showering, he begins to make his way to the pool

hmm, he wonders..

what should he eat after today’s lesson?

a bacon cheese burger sounded really good

maybe even grab himself some birria tacos from that new restaurant that just opened near his apartment

hmm no he had to start spending less on takeout

sigh

looks like it’d be rame—

woah

as corny as it sounded, he could’ve sworn he felt his heart skip a beat

because whoever it was in that pool was pretty, like really pretty

hOly ?????

wowzers

you couldn’t be y/n ... could you?!?!?!

you were the only person who looked 23 years of age in the pool ...

ermmmmmm

mayday mayday

jungkook.exe has STOPPED WORKING

whoever this jungkook person was, sure was taking their time

deciding to have some fun before your lesson, you begin to gently play with the water

swish. swoosh , the water goes

soon you’d be well on your way to becoming the next michael phelps

hehe

maybe with time you’d even be able to a somersault in the water like your friend always—

“y/n?” a voice from behind says your name

ah finally

taking in a deep breath, you turn your attention to the so called “best swimming instructor”

OH.

MY .

GOD.

WHAT ??????

this man looked like he came straight out of GQ magazine !!!!

this HAD to be some mistake , there was just no way ...

your cheeks feel as if they were burning up

probably because they quite literally were

there was no way you’d be able to come here every saturday for the next month, not without fawning for this dude every single minute

“u-um”

of course you were a stuttering mess

of FuCkiNg course

“that’s me”

cue the awkward smile

“be professional” jungkook tells himself

at the end of the day, you were his student

any crush on you would just have to wait until of course ... you were no longer his student

for now the only goal was : teach you how to swim

the next one down the list being : to take you out on a date !

he offers you a handshake

wow he had a strong grip

“i’m jungkook, i’ll be your swimming instructor for the next month”

he flashes you his all too famous smile

there was just no way this man was real

just nO wAy

“um..”

crap, you were still holding his hand!

idiot, idiot, idiot !

“sorry” you awkwardly laugh

ha ha ha

so funny

god did you just want to hide to disappear

“it’s fine” he laughs

even his laugh was attractive :(

ugh

“so y/n, before we begin with anything, i think it’s important to review about what kind of things you already know and what you don’t”

oh right ...

for a moment you had COMPLETELY forgotten you were here for swimming lessons

how embarrassing

“oh um..”

um, um , um.

IS THAT ALL YOU KNEW HOW TO SAY????

“so like floating, holding your breath underwater, pushing, gliding, arm movement, that kind of stuff,” he explains

you knew a cool trick to make it look like you were water bending :D

of course you weren’t going to admit that here

silently you nod your head no

he gives you a reassuring smile, sensing your timidness

“that’s fine, only more for us—” he corrects himself, “for you to learn,” he laughs

hey you weren’t complaining

;)

“so i personally always like to start off with teaching my students how to float. as long as we get that down then you’ll have no problem learning the rest”

gosh his smile was so infectious

shaking your head, you reminded yourself that this was your teacher

+ you paid 300 bucks for these classes, so you couldn’t afford to be giving him the googly eyes all day

you were so cute :(

jungkook couldn’t help but find you so endearing

the color of your swimming goggles even matched your swim suit :((

so cute !

“okay so the first thing i want you to practice is going underwater for a couple of seconds, just so you get used it,” he instructs, “i’ll demonstrate”

taking in a deep breath, he goes down under

1...2...3

he’s back up

pausing for about another three seconds, he takes in another deep breath of air before going back under

1...2....3...4....5

he repeats the same thing over and over, until the max count becomes 20.

“use my finger as your reference of when to go up, but come up for air whenever you feel like you need to. it’s important to go at your own pace, so don’t feel pressured to get it the first try”

no pressure at all

okay

“you ready?”

you nod your head

“okay, deep breath in”

you sink your head underwater, mentally counting the three seconds before going back up

“good job,” he gives you a high five, and you almost feel like a schoolgirl, “now let’s try to five seconds”

woo!!! 5 seconds here you come !!

taking in a deep breath you go down under again

1....2.....3....4...5

easy peasy ... LEMON SQUEEZY

“okay now to ten”

1.....2......3......4.....5......6....7

umm

now why were these seconds going by slow all of a sudden?

sucking it up you manage to make it to 10, but not without being out of breath

“you okay?” he’s quick to ask

yup, totally fine !

you definitely didn’t see the gates of heaven for a quick moment :D

nodding your head, you enthusiastically say, “let’s go for 15″

he smiles at your enthusiasm

ahh so cute

“1....2.....3......4......5.......6......7......8......9.....10.....11.....12....13...

nope nope nope

you were not going to make it to 15

immediately you make your way back to the surface, trying to catch your breath

“hey you did amazing,” he immediately reassures you, “remember as long your going your own pace then you’re doing just fine”

well doesn’t that make you feel better

you wonder if he’s this kind to all his students

besides the most obvious reason, there was no question as to why he was the “most popular” instructor

and to think you had been complaining earlier !!

and soon you’re back underwater, going at your own pace until finallyyyy you’re able to make the 20 second count

“nice !!” he genuinely celebrates with you, making you feel completely proud for yourself

“okay now that we have that done, we can move onto learning how to float facing both front and back”

ohhhhh

he was just thinking ahead

cool :o

“so what i want you do is first relax,” he laughs, gently pushing your stiff shoulders down

as if your blush couldn’t get any deeper

“now my personal belief is that all humans can naturally float, just that for others, it takes a bit of a push to get them at that state,” he begins to explain

others meaning people like um you

“the key to floating is to relax”

oh you’ve heard that before

many MANY times and each time you’ve tried to so called “relax” you just end up sinking

“the moment you fight or stress for even a tiny bit, you will sink. now i know what you’re thinking, ive heard that before”

damn

he was good

“but sadly it’s true, until you learn to relax then you’ll be able to swim”

you sigh

this was where it became hard

you were the queen of stress

you and stress went hand in hand almost like a married couple

it was just that deep water was scary !! very very scary !!

the amount of horror stories you’d seen on tiktok was enough for you to know, ocean = scary

“so here’s what i need you to do, i need you to place your arms on top of the water like as if you’re going to fly”

you follow his commands

he separates your arms, which had been too close together, giving them a small rub

“remember you need to relax y/n,” he chuckles, feeling the tension in your arms

“relax, i need to relax,” you repeat

“okay now right now when i tell you, you’re gonna take a deep breath in and look down, from there you’re gonna let you body move forward. so remember you’re not gonna jump, you’re just gonna let your body glide forward and float. almost as if you’re flying to me,” he explains

mm it was easier said than done

“you ready?”

“okay deep breath in”

you inhale a deep breath in

“look down”

you do that as well

“and let go”

slowly your body begins to rise on its own

oh my god !!!!!

you were about to float!!!!!

the day has come !!!

no more staying at 5 feet and under

you were ready to hang with the big kids :D

but as quick as the momentum came, the faster it left because soon you felt yourself sinking, the breathing exercise jungkook had made you do now coming in handy

no!!!!

you almost had it :(

it was right in your grasp, only to have it snatched away

not wanting to offend you, jungkook keeps his giggles to himself

“hey at least you almost had it,” he comforts you, “let’s just try again”

you sigh, now letting your doubts creep in

because of this, this time your body almost immediately sank this time

he frowns

you were losing confidence :/

“come on i’ll help you”

grabbing your hands, he signals for you to follow his breathing pattern

“deep breath in”

“deep breath out”

god, was his voice soothing

“i need you to relax y/n, let everything go”

a soft feeling of relaxation washes over you, similar to that feeling you’d get when you were on the verge of sleeping

“i’m gonna let you go at the count of three, and then you’re going to float, okay?”

silently you nod, knowing that speaking would only cause you to tense up again

“1...2....”

he lets go, and soon you’re floating, just like he said you would

you hold your breathe for a good while before standing back up, a huge smile on your face

“holy shit! i did it!!”

he gives you high five with both of his hands, for a second holding them before letting go

“now let’s try floating on your back”

he notices that there’s now a fire in your eyes that wasn’t there before

clearly you were now more determined to learn, excited too

preparing yourself to float once more, you realize you were missing something....

“jungkook...”

he tilts his head, confused by the faint blush on your cheeks

“do you think you can um—”

now it was his turn to blush

“o-oh yeah”

what was his problem???

you were a student asking for help

that was all ...

point blank.

he helps you get on your back, his hand placed under your back as a way to keep you up

“1....2....”

you float easily again!!

“nice!!” he smiles

summer, here you come !!

“okay so we’re gonna keep practicing that for the remaining time that we have and next week i’ll start teaching you about stroke techniques and which ones are easiest to do”

nodding your head, you practice your floating by the end of the hour having it practically mastered

the two of you get out of the pool, now drying off

“you’re a really fast learner y/n,” he compliments you

hehe

you mean, you didn’t wanna brag butttt

you were a fast learner indeed

“thank you,” you say in return, “but that’s only because you’re a great teacher”

woah

did you really say that :o

aren’t you feeling a little bold today y/n

his blush returns for the second time today

well technically you weren’t in class anymore ...

a little flirting wouldn’t hurt right?

if only he knew what to say ....

hmmmm

“well at least you won't ever drown!”

HUH???????

jungkook, you idiot !!!!!

someone needed to smack him straight in the face for that !

at least you won’t drown????

no fucking shit

well there goes his chances with you now going down the drain

but to his surprise, you laugh

“you’re right, i won’t,” you say in return, “well i’ll see you next weekend jungkook”

you flash him a smile, and he was certain he felt butterflies in his stomach

walking into the girl’s locker room, you let out a sigh of relief

wheeeeew !

faking confidence was hard !

very VERY hard

“so today you’re going to learn how to stroke so you can officially be called someone who knows how to swim, next week you’ll learn to tread water and continue perfecting your swimming, and then the final week i’ll teach you some fun extra things”

“sounds good,” you say, definitely excited to learn more.

“okay so now that you know how to float, right now when you float facing downward, you’re going to pull against the current with your arms, alternating each one. now the tricky part is that while you do that, you also have to paddle your legs a little and come up for air when you need to, and when you’re back in the water you should slowly be exhaling bubbles of air rather than holding your breath”

well that sounded hard :/

“let me give you a demonstration,” jungkook says

he’s quick to float facing downward, showing you the maneuver he wanted you to learn while coming up for air every five seconds

thought it was a little childish, he somehow still looked good doing it

he truly was blessed with the looks of a god

he comes out the water

“okay now your turn”

you nod your head, that determined look you had on your face last week now returning

following his example, you begin your attempt at paddling and stroking your arms at the same time

SPLASH! SPLASH! SPLASH!

immediately you begin to panic and water begins to splash everywhere, including on jungkook

noticing your panicked state, jungkook is quick to grab you and place you back on your feet

“hey hey, i got you,” he comforts you, not wanting you to feel discouraged

you sigh

well that was embarrassing

“remember y/n you have to learn to coordinate everything, so think of it this way. your legs have to always be paddling, it’s the arm and coming up for air that switch roles. when you come up for air, it’s only your legs paddling, while when you’re head is back underwater it’s both your legs and arms paddling. once you get that pattern, the bubbling will come naturally”

you make an ohhhhh face

you could do that !

“remember what i told you last weekend y/n, you need to relax and be comfortable so you can build confidence. there’s no need to panic because i’m here,” he smiles at you

gosh this just wasn't fair >:(

cute and charming ????

this boy really had it all

not wanting to disappoint, you try one more time, failing once again

now you were frustrated :/

“damn it,” you mumble to yourself, a sadness to your voice

jungkook feels his heart swell

he didn’t like seeing you sad :(

but doggy paddling was the most basic technique he could teach you so he couldn’t really cheer you up by offering a different technique

you needed to learn to doggy paddle before you could move on to the more bigger strokes

damn it ://

“hey don’t feel bad about not getting right away,” he gives you a small smile, “i remember when i first started learning it took me forever to even learn how float, so the fact that you’re already at this point is enough of an accomplishment”

well that makes you feel little better ...

“but you were probably a kid, im ...”

old , is what you want to say

figuring what you were gonna say, he only laughs

“who said i was a kid? i was probably like 19″

whaaaaaattttt!

assuming he was your age (which he was), you do the quick maths in your head

that was like .... 4 years ago !

how the hell did he get so good in such little time???? enough to be teaching courses ???

“not knowing how to swim is nothing to be embarrassed about y/n, if anything it takes a lot of courage to even sign up for a class so don’t beat yourself up too much for not getting it right away”

he ruffles your wet hair, a small affectionate gesture

you didn’t know how it was possible but you were falling for this man and QUICKLY at that

he was just so ??$%@^!

UGHHHH

“so let’s try one more time, and if you still can’t get it then we’ll push it to next week, a free extra lesson on me”

eeeeek

though the temptation to purposely fails was very intriguing indeed, you still had to try for the sake of it

if you got it, you got it, and if you didn't well ....

an extra week with jungkook it was :D

“you ready?”

you nod your head

“1...2...”

you float and begin to paddle, this time actually getting the hang of it !!!

you hear jungkook’s muffled voice from above the surface, “there you go!!”

holy shit !

you officially knew how to swim !!!

at least enough to save your own life if push came to shove

once you were out of breath, you stand back up, a grin on both of your faces

for jungkook it was hard not to tackle you in excitement so instead he settled for a very enthusiastic high five

“you did it!” he cheers

“ahhh!” you giggle like a child

“from here on out, the rest is a piece of cake!”

yay yay yay !!!

“now let’s start working on deeper strokes, maybe we’ll even have time to throw in backstrokes!”

:////

noticing your changed expression, he awkwardly laughs while scratching his neck

“or maybe not”

this week was the final week of swimming lesson with jungkook

:((

last week’s lesson of treading water and perfecting your swim seemed to had gone by in literally the blink of an eye !

and so today was possible the last time you’d see jungkook unless you managed to grow the balls and ask him out once that clock hit 4, once you were no longer his “student"

by now you were 100% sure you liked the dude... like a lot

and he was definitely someone you wanted to get to know outside of this pool

you just weren’t sure if he liked you the same way

you mean yeah there were definitely times that had you raising an eyebrow here and there, but you always excused it as him simply being a kind hearted person by nature

because clearly his five star rating on the company’s website had to come from somewhere

not that you checked or anything....

who were you kidding

yes you did

your favorite review was the one that went..

“wow!! this dude is amazing !! came here for beginner lessons and even i found myself fawning for the dude , and i don’t even play for that side of the team !! not only were his lessons thorough, but he’s a very charming person ! 10/10 recommend!”

and so you were stuck

did he liked you or was he just treating you like he treated everyone??

“ahh y/n,” jungkook’s voice suddenly brings you back to reality

“today’s our final lesson!” he announces, not sounding too sad

in fact he sounded excited

damn :/

he playfully jumps into the pool, today being his so called “fun day”

“so since today’s your last lesson i thought i could teach you how to do a.....”

he pauses for dramatic purposes

“SOmERSAuLT!!”

immediately your eyes light up

ahhhhhHHHH!!!!

you always wanted to learn how to do a somersault in water, remembering the number of times you’d look at your friend in jealousy whenever she did one

“you ready??”

eagerly you nod your head yes

“okay so the steps to doing a summersault is first of course, you need to take a deep breath”

okayyyy

“from there you tuck your chin to your chest, next you do the moment of the somersault by swinging your chest forward and gently kicking out your legs, so basically forming a ball and then kicking out. naturally, if you have enough momentum, you’ll spin, but if you don’t just use your arms to complete it”

“think you can give me a demonstration?” you innocently ask

he winks at you, “of course i can”

taking in a deep breath, he follows his own instructions, and you watch he perfectly executes his somersault

“woahhh, that was so cool!” you say, even now finding the trick to be amazing

“now i dont expect you to get it right away, so right now that you try i’m going tog hide you thought the movement so you get the gist of it”

sounds fair enough

you weren’t trying to drown on your last day either

“okay, you ready?”

“yes”

“let’s get it!”

taking a deep breath in, you feel jungkook’s hand get placed on your back, ready to push you so you could do the somersault

“1...2...”

and slowly you feel yourself spin with the help of jungkook, a smile already forming on your face

“ahhh!” you smile big and wide, causing Jungkook to smile along with you

“you think you’re ready to try it on your own???”

“yes sir”

“okay 1....2....”

mustering up as much as force you possible could, you push yourself into ball and successfully do the somersault

YUPPPPP

WHOSE DOING IT LIKE YOU???!$%@$!

feeling an immediate rush of adrenaline, you begin to splash water all over once you come back up for air, declaring an all out water fight with jungkook

soon the two of you are chasing one another, you now using your new swimming abilities to get away

hehe

you’re a swimmer

the sound of jungkook’s infectious laughter fill the air and soon you feel him grab your waist at an attempt to stop you

“gotcha” he says, and he turns you around to face him

slowly each other’s heavy breathing becomes relaxed, and it’s as if you’ve felt a shift occur in what you considered your new “friendship”

“so....” he awkwardly says, hands still wrapped around your waist

his was was RED

like cherry tomatoes red

this only makes you giggle

if you had doubts before, you DEFINITELY didn’t have em anymore

he liked you :))))

and you liked him :))))

and in ten minutes you were officially no longer his student so......

“there’s this new restaurant that opened near my place....” you say

immediately his eyes light up

“cancun eats?”

you nod your head and he gives you a toothy grin

“i was wondering if you’d want to go out some time...” you muster up the courage to ask him out

%^@%!@&!@^&@%! = jungkook’s brain

holy crap !!!

you liked him!!!

he wasn’t just delusional !!!

“hello?? jungkook??” you laugh, waving a hand in front of his face for jungkook.exe had truly stopped working this time

nodding his head yes like a child, the two of you being to lean closer to another, the clear goal in mind being each other’s lips

because honestly you’d come this far now, might as well give him a ....

“wait!” he suddenly interrupts he glances at the digital clock on the wall, remembering your final lesson officially ends at 4

because no way in hell was he going to get fired for kissing a student on the clock

3:59

.....

4:00

“okay now,” he smiles, and you only roll your eyes, happy to have taken up on those swimming lessons.

a/n : i was gonna make this longer but this was always meant to be a small little head canon so :))) pls give this a like, comment, or a reblog if you enjoyed it !! (if u can of course) and my ask box is always open for whatever !! :)) see yall next time 💞

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j-ungkooky · 4 years ago

Text

Temptation (Taehyung)

Ceo Au! Suggestive smut (he’s crouched under ur desk and :)) (smut will be in future chapters) Angst (later) 3181 Words Chapter 1.

“Good morning.” Taehyung simply greeted before disappearing into his office.

It was enough to get all the women in the lobby immediately shooting each other knowing glances because not only was Taehyung the company’s CEO, but he was a very handsome one at that too. His polite demeanour and respectful nature only contributed to his desirability. Due to everyone’s unanimous acknowledgement of Taehyung’s appeal, there seemed to always be some sort of competition for his attention. Whether it was to drop something off for him in his office or offer him leftover donuts, his deep voice thanking you followed by his infectious smile was all worth it. Taehyung being new to the company only made the competition over him more fierce. He had taken over the position from a now old and retired gentleman and because he had no idea what the personality of each individual in the office was truly like, it was all fair game.

She definitely would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t have some sort of crush on Taehyung but it was all physical and surface level. He was her boss after all and she only saw him for a few minutes each day. They’ve barely exchanged more than a handful of words to each other in the month of his takeover.

“Jesus...did you see his arms? They’re suffocating in that button up.” Jisoo, her colleague commented.

“You’re drooling,” she teased, “besides, you should be worrying about your meeting today and not about whether or not blood is circulating through his arms.”

Jisoo scoffed and pushed herself off of the reception desk.

“Don’t remind me,” Jisoo groaned, “it doesn’t help that Taehyung’s going to be sitting in for that meeting too. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get through anything without puking.”

The two of them continued to talk and catch each other up on what they did over the weekend before Jisoo eventually had to go back to her desk. She watched as her colleague walked away and felt a twinge of jealousy within herself. For someone like Jisoo to get nervous despite being pretty, charismatic and the office favourite was a slap to her self esteem. Jisoo also held a high position within the HR department while she was just a measly receptionist. She definitely wasn’t going to stay in this position forever but the job paid well and would suffice for now.

As the clock inched closer to everyone’s starting time, the lobby began clearing up as people went to their respected department. After a few minutes, she was left alone to man the front all by herself. She stared at the closed office doors surrounding her and felt another pang of envy in her heart knowing that people behind those doors were doing far more important work than her. Her days consisted of sorting through mail, sending emails, transferring calls and light house duties. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t all bad because at least she could surf the internet whenever she wanted without anyone monitoring her. Her eyes traveled towards Taehyung’s door and she wondered how he was adjusting to everything before an email notification needed her attention.

With it being Monday and the meeting Jisoo was talking about earlier being held today, it was quite busy. She usually had an hour of free time before her lunch break but the emails had been nonstop. People kept revising their forms and asking her to print out multiple copies of the revised papers to the point where the printer just stopped working altogether for a scary moment. With it being so busy, she decided to stay at her desk for lunch today. She was buried so deep in her computer work that Taehyung’s presence had gone unnoticed. He needed a break from staring at his screen all day and decided to go explore the office. In the month that Taehyung transferred over, he had no time to go around introducing himself or making himself familiar with the space. His decision to finally become accustomed to his environment brought him in front of her desk. The unusually loud crinkling from the untouched candy jar she left out for everyone broke her focus. She looked up to see her boss struggling with how small the jar was.

“Do...do you need help?” she finally asked.

Up close, Taehyung’s visuals had her feeling shy and flustered like a high school girl sitting next to their crush. Taehyung seemed just as surprised to hear her voice as his movements came to a halt and he pulled his hand out of the candy jar sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he apologized while rubbing the back of his neck, “I realized I must’ve looked really stupid.”

She waved his doubts away and took the jar from him. She tried her very best to seem unfazed and collected but the red tint in her cheeks and her inability to stop smiling so wide probably gave her away.

“The um...” Taehyung cleared his throat before continuing, “the watermelon flavour please.”

After a few seconds of sifting through the numerous options, she found the one he wanted. Taehyung opened his hand and she almost laughed at how tiny the candy looked in his gigantic palm. Her amusement didn’t stop at his physicality but shifted towards his entire personality. When she first met Taehyung, she was beyond intimidated. She couldn’t look at him for too long without feeling like he was looking right through her. Taehyung carried himself with an air of confidence and always had an answer for everyone, as expected of a competent CEO. She wasn’t nervous around him because he was scary but because his presence was so large and full while she was so small compared to him. But having him stand before her enjoying a piece of watermelon flavoured candy with an innocent smile on his face was just so...unexpected.

“Is this your lunch break?” Taehyung asked noticing her untouched sandwich sitting beside her keyboard.

She looked where he was and let out a forced laugh at her pathetic set up.

“Yeah I didn’t have time to properly take a break today.” she explained.

The reason she was eating at her desk suddenly occurred to her and her eyes traveled over to her inbox which was now at double digits. With only an hour before the big meeting today, she was already behind despite only talking to Taehyung for five minutes.

“Sorry Taehyung I have to get back to work,” she sighed running a hand through her hair, “is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked looking at him for a quick second before going back to her monitor.

Taehyung watched as she worked and wondered if this was the kind of work culture he wanted to uphold. He didn’t like that she didn’t take a break and was going unnoticed for her extra work. Perhaps he’d talk to HR and accounting later to avoid situations like this from happening again. Taehyung drummed his fingers against his her desk and sucked his teeth.

“Nope, nothing else you can do for me!” he smiled, “Thank you for your hard work but please make sure to take a proper break next time. I’m going to the coffee room to take a breather myself.”

She looked up to thank him out of courtesy and he surprised her by thanking her once more and using her name. He grabbed a few more pieces of candy before going on his way.

“Hey Taehyung!” she called, leaning over her desk.

He turned his head with a raised brow.

“If you’re still going to the break room, it’s the other way.” she informed him.

Taehyung turned around on his heel and began walking hastily in the correct direction with bashful smile on his face.

“What an interesting guy.” she thought while laughing to herself.

________________________________________________

The hour leading up to the big meeting didn’t get any easier as her inbox continued to flood with people requesting numerous things from her. She was finally able to breathe when the meeting started and people stopped demanding her assistance. Jisoo had come up earlier asking for words of encouragement before Taehyung emerged from his office. She watched in awe at how effortless Jisoo made it look cracking jokes with Taehyung and drawing out deep belly laughs from him. She cringed at how awkward she must’ve been with Taehyung earlier and refused to look at him when he walked by; not that he would’ve noticed anyway as Jisoo had his full attention. She made an early new years resolution to be more like her follow coworker in the coming year.

Despite the craziness earlier, she was already bored browsing through the same pages for the past 40 minutes. The meeting seemed to be going well as no one left the boardroom to ask her to do anything. With her sanity hanging onto Pinterest boards, she welcomed the delivery man with a gigantic smile and lively greeting.

“Big one today.” the delivery man commented while slapping the stacks of boxes on his trolley.

She took a look around her desk to see if there was any available space to put the packages but to no avail.

“You can just leave them there.” she said and began rolling up her sleeves.

“You sure?” the man asked, “these are quite heavy.”

She reassured him by telling him that she deals with deliveries every Monday and that this was no different to prior ones. She bid the delivery man farewell as he disappeared through the elevator doors with the same concerned face that never left during their entire interaction.

"Finally something to do.” she thought and with that, began working on the boxes.

Taehyung struggled to keep his eyes open during the meeting. He opted to rest his chin on his hand and pretend to take notes when in reality, his eyes were closed and he was drawing random shapes in his notepad. From the moment he received emails outlining what the meeting entailed, he knew it meant absolutely nothing to him. He didn’t actually know why he agreed to be a part of it but he was definitely regretting his decision to do so. Taehyung had a long list of tasks to fulfill especially since he was only a month onboard this company and this meeting was wasting his time. Wanting to make a good impression on his employees, Taehyung tried really hard to pay attention but he simply could not trick himself into caring as the minutes ticked by. He racked his brain on ways to escape and took a deep breath before pursuing his liberation. Taehyung looked at his apple watch and feigned surprise at a non-existent message on it.

“Everyone, I apologize for leaving so suddenly but there is an issue I have to attend.” he announced while getting up from his seat.

He uttered a few more apologies before leaving the boardroom and closing the door. It wasn’t until he was out in the hallway by himself that he suddenly felt incredibly foolish over how easy it was to leave. He sat in that godforsaken room for almost an hour thinking of ways to flee and that was all it took. Pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling a sharp breath, Taehyung made his way back to his office.

“Holy shit! What is in here?!” she groaned struggling to lift more boxes from within the delivery boxes.

In the span of an hour, she was still working on one of the four boxes delivered. Perhaps she should’ve listened to the delivery man earlier but her pride got in the way. It didn’t help that the skirt she was wearing today was a lot shorter than her usual choices but all her work clothes were currently in the wash as she simply could not be bothered to do laundry over the weekend. Every time she lifted something up, she had to immediately place the item somewhere so she could pull her skirt down or she’d accidentally flash the office.

She attempted to set one box down on her desk and winced when it slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor with a heavy thud. She waited a few seconds to see if anyone came out to figure out what the noise was and breathed a sigh of relief when the office remained undisturbed.

“Better than aimlessly scrolling through Instagram.” she thought before bending over to pick up anything that fell out.

“Do you need help?” a familiar voice called out.

She jumped in her shoes and proceeded to drop everything from her arms. She snapped her body up to see who it was and surprising her again for the second time today, Taehyung was standing in front of her desk with a curious look on his face.

“I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that,” he apologized profusely as he made his way behind her desk, “please let me help you!”

It took her a beat to register her appearance and she quickly pulled down her skirt that was riding up way too close to her crotch. She smoothed her hair before attempting to stop Taehyung from doing anything.

“No, no don’t worry!” she laughed as he held up the items out of her reach.

“If you want it then you have to grow a whole foot taller.” he teased.

“You have a meeting to go back to.” she reminded him to which he scrunched his face in disapproval.

Just as she was slowly convincing Taehyung to go back, his face turned from playfulness to dread when the boardroom door opened.

“Let me ask Taehyung to join the meeting again.” a colleague’s voice could be heard before their footsteps approached the lobby.

She was about to tell Taehyung that he was needed when he ducked under her already cramped desk and put a finger to his lips as his eyes pleaded for her to keep quiet. Before she could process what was happening, Jin, her coworker appeared.

“Hey! Is Taehyung around?” Jin asked as he marvelled at all the boxes spread out in the lobby.

She stood still trying to calm her nerves. On one hand, she was fighting against the biggest laughing fit of her life and on the other, Taehyung her boss, expected her to cover for him as he cowered under her desk.

“He is...” she glanced down at Taehyung who was now shaking his head and making a cutting motion with his hand, “I-I haven’t seen him actually! Is he not in the meeting?”

Jin cocked a brow and leaned over her desk trying to see what she was looking at.

“Is everything okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.” he laughed.

She forced a smile and shook her head, “Oh yeah I’m fine! My computer’s been acting up all day and it’s getting a little worrisome with everything going on.”

Taehyung was impressed by how quick she was on her feet and slowly breathed a sigh of relief until he heard Jin offer to come around and take a look at her computer for her. This whole situation was already absolutely ridiculous and humiliating until she sat down on her chair to click a few keys and feign relief that her computer was magically working again. The issue was no longer the fact that Taehyung was hiding from his employees but that he was contorted under her desk that was way too small for his large frame, now with her cunt inches away from his face.

“Well now that you’re here anyways, I was hoping you could help me with some paper work and scheduling.” Jin said.

“S-sure.” she managed to answer despite her throat drying up and the adrenaline slowly making its way through her veins.

She could feel every time Taehyung breathed because his exhales would land right against her inner thigh and when he sighed, she could feel it right against her sex. Her thong provided little to no protection against any sensation caused by him. She tried to clamp her thighs together but her knees would hit Taehyung’s face in the process causing her to open her legs again as a reflex and there was no more room for Taehyung to back up against.

“Are you okay?” Jin asked.

She could only nod as a response; she did not trust her voice to come out stable and natural. The battle she was fighting up there was mutually shared by Taehyung underneath. His brain was going a million miles a minute as he tried to figure out how to talk to her after this. How was he going to make this all alright and normal? He could offer her a raise and an extra week of paid vacation? Maybe he could fire her but he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he did that. Taehyung was beating himself up for putting her in a situation like this and began to mentally prep for a lawsuit. While trying to figure out a solution, Taehyung forgot that he was just a man with a simple brain and another mental battle was underway as he tried very hard to avoid gazing somewhere he really shouldn’t. As she kept squirming, her skirt kept rising and Taehyung couldn’t help but steal a glance at the growing wetness appearing on her undergarment. The growing arousal within Taehyung’s pants made him feel more cramped and with his legs were beginning to fall asleep, he began to pray to any god out there for some sort of divine intervention.

“Fuck fuck fuck...oh my fucking god,” he chanted in his head, “Jin shut the fuck up already.”

A gasp escaping from her lips followed by her suddenly jolting startled Jin and he gave her an odd look. Taehyung had completely lost feeling in both of his feet and he fell over grabbing onto her thighs for support. His hands felt so warm against her skin and their sheer size grabbed a lot more area than anticipated. Taehyung fought back a groan when the bottom of her skirt had flipped over and her entire lower region was in full view.

“Hey Jin, is it okay if we do this over email? I’m suddenly not feeling so well.” she was able to muster out.

It didn’t take a doctor to know something was wrong from her complexion turning completely pale.

“Yeah I think you should go home for the rest of the day. You really don’t look well,” Jin acknowledged with furrowed brows, “I’ll just catch Taehyung up with the meeting myself.”

The minute she heard the boardroom doors close, she pushed her chair back so forcefully that it crashed into the wall behind her. She got up and immediately pulled her skirt down and made a beeline towards the washroom without saying a single word to Taehyung. Taehyung on the other hand stayed fixed under her desk with his eyes bulged and his mouth ajar. There was absolutely no positive outcome for what he had caused.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #bts oneshot #taehyung oneshot #bts #bangtan #bts ceo

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memxntomxri · 3 years ago

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ｌｏｎｅｌｙｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ʜᴏᴍᴇ

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - kuroo tetsurou x kozume kenma

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - fluff, comfort

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - kenma has a breakdown over haters on the internet. kuroo comforts him.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 1.4k

𝘵𝘸 - online people being assholes, panic attacks, referenced stalker-ish behaviors

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - fluff to make up for day 1's fic. thank you for discord server friends (LouEve_094, Lena) who listened to me screech while writing this.

｡o°✥✤✣ 　　 ✣✤✥°o｡

Kuroo’s assistant, Takahashi, tentatively stuck his head into the conference room, where Kuroo was currently listening to a pitch about doing a joint press venture with the baseball league. It was interesting, but not enough that he didn’t notice his assistant’s frantic finger-pointing and beckoning.

Kuroo murmured a quiet “Sorry” and excused himself from the table, stepping out to converse with Takahashi. Takahashi wouldn’t bother Kuroo unless it wasn’t urgent.

“Sorry, sir, but I’m so glad Suzuki-san informed me about the situation, I—” he began. Kuroo held up a hand. Takahashi was trustworthy and brilliant with a spreadsheet program, but he could also run on for hours if one didn’t force him to cut to the chase.

“Takahashi, what exactly happened?” Kuroo said. Takahashi shot him a confused look, then his eyes widened almost comically.

“Kuroo-san, did you not see your ring?” he asked. In their world, because of some god’s whim or something, everyone was born with a ring tattoo on their right ring finger. It acted like some sort of mood ring… for your soulmate. Blue meant sadness, red meant anger, green meant disgust or jealousy, yellow happiness, gold pride, so on, so forth. When you met them, the ring would flare a bright, distinctive color. Kuroo had been fortunate enough to witness his flare as a measly 8-year-old, and Kenma had been stuck with him ever since.

Kuroo automatically glanced down at his right hand. Shit, he cursed. It was black all the way through—that was not good. That meant that something had set off Kenma’s panic attacks—a bad one, because Kuroo couldn’t see the swirls of grey that meant that his fiancée wasn’t completely lost yet—and Kuroo felt horrible for not noticing.

Takahashi gulped. Kuroo had momentarily forgotten that his assistant existed. “There’s more, Kuroo-san.” he said warily, as if approaching a wild animal.

“What?” Kuroo snapped, then shook his head quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Takahashi smiled gently, a reassuring one meant to placate Kuroo’s wild emotions. “It’s okay, Kuroo-san. Um… are you sure you want to know what’s going on with Kozume-san?” he grimaced. It must be bad for Takahashi, of all people, to be making negative facial expressions. “Just tell me.” Kuroo barked. He winced. “Sorry, didn’t mean that either.”

Takahashi replied, “It’s alright. Anyways, it seems that when Kozume-san beat out that beauty youtuber, Alice007, for the first Japanese Youtuber to get 10 million subscribers today, she went on a tangent on Twitter and caused a lot of her fans to start attacking Kozume-san. They… also mentioned you.”

Kuroo’s head whipped up. “What?”

“Apparently, Alice-san’s sister went to Nekoma High too and believed that she was your soulmate. If the tweets are any indication, both of them are a little, forgive me for saying this in a professional setting, delusional.” he said apologetically. Kuroo wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. On one hand, the love of his life was being torn down online. On the other hand, Takahashi was finally saying something negative about a human being.

Kuroo tipped his head back.

“Well, I’m heading home. Sorry for flaking out on the meeting, but can you please tell them a brief summary of what’s going on? Don’t go into too much detail though, Kenma values his privacy.” he requested. Takahashi nodded. God, Kuroo was lucky to have his assistant. “Thanks, Takahashi, you’re a lifesaver. Why don’t you take Friday night out and take Mizuki-san,” Takahashi’s 158cm tall spitfire soulmate who always seemed to have an infinite supply of dirty jokes, “out on a date?”

Takahashi allowed a small smile to break his professional face. “That would be very nice, Kuroo-san. Thank you. Now go, Kozume-san needs you.” he said, shooing Kuroo down the hall towards the elevators.

For someone who acted so demure while working, Takahashi sure could be forceful when he wanted to.

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

Kuroo nudged the door to his and Kenma’s two-bedroom (one was Kenma’s streaming room) open. His arms were laden with bags from the nearby grocery store, filled with Kenma’s favorite comfort foods, a few new video games, and a box of prescription meds for his anxiety that Kenma had slowly moved on from.

“Kenma?” he called down the hallway. No response, except for sounds of muffled sobbing coming from their bedroom. Kuroo kicked off his shoes and set the bags down, heading down the hall to investigate.

He cracked open the door a few centimeters, and there Kenma was, curled up in a ball on the king-sized mattress, phone an arm’s length away, screen cracked. Kuroo tracked his eyes to the correspondingly-sized dent in the wall. He walked in, sitting down next to Kenma’s prone form, but not touching him.

“Hey, kitten.” he greeted quietly. Kenma reached for his sleeve, rubbing his hand twice, up, down, on Kuroo’s wrist. Ah. That was the signal for when he had gone nonverbal but wanted Kuroo to give him physical and verbal affection.

Kuroo scooped Kenma up into his arms, tucking him into his lap as he rested his chin on top of Kenma’s head. “I’m sorry people are being assholes, Kenma. I hope you don’t believe them, because they sure as hell aren’t true.” Small hiccups as more tears ran down Kenma’s face.

That was alright. Sometimes, Kenma just needed someone to hold him and tell him that he was alright.

“I bought that game you wanted. Overcooked? Yeah, that was its name. We can try it out when you feel up to it. Maybe invite Akaashi and Bokuto over. Chibi-chan and Kageyama too, if they’re in Tokyo.” Kuroo continued.

“You know, all these people love you, Kenma. It doesn’t matter what people online think, especially when they’re just following a deranged leader.” Kuroo reassured him.

Kenma looked up at him questioningly. Kuroo sighed. “Yeah, I heard. I have no idea who Alice-san’s sister is,” he said in response to Kenma’s silent question, “besides, I trust our parents and our own memories more than some beauty guru who can’t take being beaten.” he scoffed.

Kenma took a few deep breaths, a sign that he was slowly calming down. Kuroo rubbed comforting circles down his back. “T-Tetsu.” he murmured. “Am I a bad soulmate because I’m not that affectionate?”

Kuroo jolted, then cupped his hands gently around Kenma’s face, leaning down to press a light kiss to his lips. “No, Kenma, never. I know you love me, and you know I wouldn’t have you any other way. You’re my kitten, remember?” he reminded. Kenma nodded slowly. Good. Kuroo breathed a slight sigh of relief in his mind. It had been months since he had needed to do this.

Kenma continued, speaking even quieter. “Will everyone leave me? Am I going to be lonely in the end?” he asked. Kuroo’s heart ached. He knew that that had always been one of Kenma’s insecurities—that his aloofness would drive people away from him. “Kenma, if you’re alone, then I’ll be alone with you.” Kuroo said resolutely.

Kenma broke down into a few sobs, hopefully getting it out of his system. “T-Tetsu, they found our address.” Kuroo froze. “What?” Kenma nodded. “Yeah. S-someone sent me a red paint-stained picture of me with a knife stabbed through my f-forehead.” he struggled to get out.

“Shh, shh, Kenma, I’m here now. Don’t force yourself if you don’t want to talk.” Kuroo reassured.

Shit. They had both known that this could become a probability when Kenma had started getting famous, and they had been lucky for a few years, but someone finding out at this moment was just bad luck.

Kuroo wrapped his arms tighter around Kenma’s smaller frame. “Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll protect you. Always and forever, remember?” he said with a cheeky smile, pointing at the band (the metal one) around Kenma’s left ring finger.

Kenma’s quiet, melodic chuckle filled the air.

Kuroo chanced a glance down at his right ring finger. It was still dark and murky, but there were traces of pink and a pale color that he hoped was yellow. It wasn’t back to usual, but they were getting there.

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

A few hours later…

Curled up on the couch, Kenma fiddled away at his PSP. Kuroo plopped down next to him, holding two steaming cups of chamomile tea. “Tetsu, I placed an order for a new phone.” Kenma said, not looking up from the phone.

“Oh also, you’re still going to have to pay half the rent for our new apartment. I’m not going to be your sugar daddy, no matter how much you beg.” Kenma deadpanned.

Kuroo snorted. Nothing ever really changed with his Kenma.

｡o°✥✤✣ 　　 ✣✤✥°o｡

#haikyuu fandom #haikyuu!!#kuroken #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x kenma #fluff #haikyuu fluff #comfort #kurokenweek #kurokenweek2021

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

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Day 21: Prinxiety (pt 2)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 21: Combine two soulmate prompts. (This will make sense soon, I promise.)

It’s the sequel you’ve all been waiting for! This is the second part to day 16 (read that first!!!!!), and y’all finally get to see what happened to Virgil! Please heed the trigger warnings below.

TRIGGER/content WARNINGS!! Anxiety, food mention, crappy foster system/group homes, implied past abuse, religious guilt/negative view of religion, homophobia, conversion therapy/abuse, starvation, sneaking medication (antipsychotics/side effects), electrocution, seizure, ambulance. I’m sorry.

Word count: 3.8k

Unlike most kids in the foster system, Virgil didn’t know his birthday. He knew it was sometime in December, but that didn’t do much. Technically, birthdays weren’t really a huge thing anyways, not when the group home he rarely left was awfully underfunded, and a party came second to little things like working sinks and clothes without holes. Even still, all the other kids at least got a little cupcake and a half hearted birthday song on their special day, and his festivities were pushed onto Christmas. He didn’t get a weak excuse for a celebration, because the other kids ‘found it unfair’ that he got that and Christmas in the same month. To prevent an upheaval, the workers told him that he’d just have to be happy with what he got.

But it wasn’t fair, because some kids got Easter and a birthday, or Halloween and a birthday, or New Years and a birthday, and poor Virgil didn’t. The fact of the matter was, they plain didn’t like him. The other kids didn’t like that he got extra free time because of his anxiety, or was allowed to leave the table when they weren’t, and they especially didn’t like he was the youngest of the bunch. The youngest had the highest chance of getting adopted, it was just facts, so they had seemingly decided that if his stay here would be the shortest, it would be the most tortured.

It wasn’t the shortest stay, though. With his barrage of anxiety related issues and group-home-toughened demeanor, no foster home wanted to deal with him. He was snarky, ran away, regularly got in fights with the biological children of the parents, and was promptly labeled a problem child. Eventually, it was deemed easier for him to just stay in a group home until he outgrew the system, since he seemed set to escape every other place. Virgil tried to pretend it didn’t hurt as much as it did; it was his fault, after all. As he watched all his older tormentors grow out of a crooked system, he resigned himself to the same fate. After all, he was almost sixteen now, and he knew his chances were out. So he stayed stuck in his group home, lashing out at his caretakers and therapists, refusing to eat unless it was alone in his room (technically, three kids slept in there, but he so rarely left it, and they wanted to avoid him, it was unofficially deemed his room), and listening to music on his phone.

He’d been given the phone on his fifteenth birthday, a gift from one of his caretakers. It was the cheapest piece of crap he’d ever seen, glitched out every other minute and needed to be charged at least three times a day, but it was a phone nonetheless. Granted, he had no one to text. But he had access to a computer, a totally one hundred percent legal music downloading website, and a strong sense of determination, so he’d soon filled the phone’s entire measly storage with all the music he could cram on the thing.

That’s what he was doing on the night of December 18th, listening to his “Emo Playlist” on a pair of $4 Dollar Store earbuds, laying on his bed and finding shapes in his popcorn ceiling as the moon shone through the window. In the bunk beds across the room from him, his two other roommates were fast asleep, but he couldn’t follow suit. It was sadly normal for Virgil to have sleepless nights where no matter what, his anxious brain just wouldn’t shut off, and it just felt like one of those nights. His hands shook and his eyelids flinched every few seconds for no reason, so he turned the music just a little bit louder and tried to calm his breathing.

It was just past 1 am when his life changed forever.

He was on the fourth cycle of his playlist, eyes no more heavy than hours before and just as flinchy. It was just entering the “existential crisis” time of the night where he started questioning reality, and he was about to give in and start letting his mind drift to darker places, when a song distinctly not his began to play in the midst of a song switch.

How can you miss someone you’ve never met?

Because I need you now but I don’t know you yet,

But can you find me soon, because I’m in my head,

Yeah, I need you now but I don’t know you yet.

He froze, eyes suddenly wide open, and yanked the earbuds out of his ears. The song continued; not in his headphones, but in his head. It didn’t take an idiot to realize that it was his soulmate, responding, and as an afterthought, Virgil suddenly identified that today was probably his birthday. Both amazing revelations, but one was slightly more time sensitive.

Desperately scrolling through his playlists as the song stopped after the chorus, he tried to find a song that would be an adequate introduction to this new person. When his eyes landed on a song from his Adele phase (he didn’t talk about that time) that he hadn’t had the energy to delete yet, he simultaneously groaned and grinned. Subtly meme-y, heartfelt like the song his soulmate had played, a decent greeting. He tapped play.

Hello,

It’s me.

He hoped his soulmate had the same sense of humor of him and had actually given a laugh, since he was trying to stifle laughter behind his sleeve to avoid waking the sleeping kids. He paused after the first verse, since he didn’t really want to remember that phase of his life more than he had to, and waited for the other to play the next song. Hopefully they could work out some sort of rhythm, play songs back and forth. He for sure wouldn’t be able to sleep now.

(The next song his soulmate played was an almost atrocious obviously-musical-theatre song that almost made Virgil hit his head against the wall, so he retaliated with a favorite of his, the most ear assaulting screamo he could find on his playlist.)

The clock had just passed four in the morning when there was a small pause in the routine, before his soulmate played a children’s lullaby. It definitely wasn’t something you’d listen to in everyday life, so Virgil could only assume it was the other’s way of indicating that they had to sleep. As if I’m going to let you go that easily, Virgil smirked, opening YouTube and begging that the video he’d chosen would play without an ad.

It did, filling his crackling, cheap earbuds with the opening chorus of Baby Shark. Fight fire with fire, he decided, chuckling to himself as he turned off the song just before the ‘mommy shark’ verse. Silence filled his head and he mentally wished the other a good night, turning onto his stomach and screaming into his pillow, grinning madly.

Eight months later, their new way of life was deeply imbedded into him; getting woken up at asscrack o’clock in the morning by a worker who wanted to be there as much as he did, and either playing his morning playlist to get himself slightly more ready to face another monotonous day or waiting in silence until his soulmate woke up and played their own music. He’d begrudgingly started to even enjoy the showtunes. Everyone around the home had noticed his gradual shift in attitude, and he couldn’t help the natural smiles that pulled at his cheeks when a new song played out of nowhere. It got to the point where his therapist noticed his lifted mood, and the other kids stopped avoiding him and, unknown to Virgil, his social workers decided that he was ready to try another foster home.

That’s why, eight months later, there was a knock on his bedroom door and his main worker poked in her head, asking him to come downstairs. He’d been playing music for his soulmate, so he silently apologized and joined her at the dining room table, giving her a half hearted smile.

“Virgil, we’ve found a new home for you. A foster home that specializes in… harder to place cases. They’ve opened their doors to you, and we’re hoping to get you into a trial period there within the next week.”

At first, Virgil vehemently refused. No. He didn’t want to go back to foster homes, not after… everything he went to in the first few. The ones that hurt him, the ones that were more densely crowded than group homes, the ones that turned him into the angry shell he was before he had met a sign of a possibly happy future. He didn’t want to lose the progress he’d made.

But Bev looked so hopeful, so pleadingly at him, that he gave in after three days of denying. He said goodbye to the kids he’d unfortunately grown attached to, threw his few belongings into a black garbage bag, and got into his worker’s car for the first time in years. Just rebuckling that seatbelt caused a shudder to run up his spine.

------1 month later------

“Virgil, what are you doing? Do you have earbuds in? We’ve made it abundantly clear that you are not to have technology at the table.”

Virgil fought every urge in his body to roll his eyes, flicking his hair behind his ears to show they were empty. It had gotten long and shaggy, just reaching his jaw in the back. “No earbuds. My soulmate’s listening to music, and it’s catchy.” Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t been caught bopping along to silence before by the stiflers.

They were nice enough, a woman and a man and their two biological children, but they were too religious for Virgil’s liking. He’d never had qualms with religion before, but he had grown tired of spending Saturdays and Sundays (his only days off from their homeschool regime) in a church, surrounded by older people singing repetitive songs and being yelled at by a guy on the pulpit. Faking being sick only worked so many times before they refused to listen to his excuses. They also insisted he go to a specialized youth group on Tuesdays, but that was easy enough to escape. He just waved by and booked it to the closest 7/11 when they left, making sure he was back at the church by the time it was over and made up some bullshit about the gathering. Jameson, the attendant at the gas station, was becoming the closest friend he’d ever had.

“Your soulmate?” One of the children asked around a bite of toast, spitting a decent amount onto Virgil’s sleeve.

“Like daddy and I, Mariam.” The woman explained briefly, not bothering to chastise her about speaking with her mouth full.

“Yeah.” Unlike most of the kids at his old group home, he wasn’t warming up to theirs. They were too spoiled, too bratty. One had even bit him in his first week here and he was still bitter about it.

“When did you connect with yours, Virgil?” The question wasn’t asked kindly, more for the sake of being polite, and he assumed if he didn’t answer in an equally polite tone, they’d probably make him paint a fence or something.

He knew they cared about his bond about as much as he did about theirs. Which was approximately none. The mom took her children’s empty plates and placed them in the sink, Virgil quickly following suit. No use losing more computer time because he didn’t clean his plate.

“Last December. I didn’t even know it was my birthday, and they started playing music out of nowhere. It was pretty cool.” He finished rinsing off his plate and was confused at the sudden stillness in the room.

“‘They’?” The mom asked, giving her husband what she must have believed to be a subtle glance.

“Uhm… yeah?” Virgil said slowly, “I’m bisexual. So I’m not sure if my partner’s a guy or a girl or… something in between. So… they?”

He stared with rising anxiety as the two parents had a silent interaction over the kitchen island, before the dad stood up. “Kids, plates in the sink and then go get ready for church. Virgil, you too.”

There was minimal whining as the younger ones did as they were asked, racing each other up the stairs. Virgil followed, slower, listening to hushed beginnings of a conversation, unable to fight the feeling that he’d just royally fucked up.

------------------------

“Virgil, may we speak with you for a moment?”

He froze, slowly turning from where he’d been half way up the stairs. They’d just wrapped up lessons for the day (Virgil never thought he’d miss an actual school building before, but alas) and the kids had been excused, leaving just him and the parents behind. It had been almost a week since the incident, and a part of him had been hoping they’d just drop it. There wasn’t much they could do, anyways; if their religion conflicted so badly with his sexuality, the worst they would do is send him back to the home anyways. In all honesty, he kind of hoped they would. He was sick of being here, and it was better for his record if he didn’t run.

Not that it mattered much anymore. He was almost aged out of the system anyways.

He took a cautious seat back at the dining room table, which they had just cleared from classes. The mom sat back in her chair, eyeing him carefully, as the dad began to speak.

“We spoke with our pastor the other day, and we think it would be best if we put you in therapy.”

“I don’t…” He’d stopped regular therapy at the group home almost a month before coming here, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d need to go back. He definitely wasn’t happy here, but he didn’t figure a grumpy mood was enough to warrant counseling. “I don’t understand.”

“After… what you told us? About your… urges-”

“Urges.” He couldn’t help his own disgusted tone. Of course they were homophobic.

“Yes. Our pastor suggested we try conversion therapy.”

Virgil scoffed, but he couldn’t ignore the way his heart started pounding, “Right. As if you could ever get my social workers to approve that. Ward of the state, remember?” He tapped his chest a couple times.

“Fortunately, we already talked to your social worker, Virgil. We had it approved just this morning.” The man finally stopped, as if waiting for a response.

Virgil’s eyes grew wide as he looked frantically between the two of them, the woman quickly avoiding eye contact. That wasn’t normal.

“There’s no way in hell that you-”

“Profanity, Virgil!” The man barked and Virgil shrank back in his chair, impulsively ducking to avoid a fist that didn’t come. They hadn’t hit him so far, but old habits die hard. “We’ve already signed you up. Your first session is tomorrow. First thing’s first-” He stood up, reaching a hand out to a still-shaking Virgil, “Hand over your phone.”

-------------------------

His hair was short now. Shorter than he could ever remember it being. He missed his bangs, he missed the tiny boosts of confidence it gave him when the rest of his appearance disgusted him. Now there was nothing for his hands to run through. There was no style to it, just an electric razor in the hands of his silent foster mother. He should have fought it, he really should have, but he was shaking far too much to try to move.

He didn’t like hands so near his throat.

------------------------

Surely, his social worker didn’t approve of this. The only explanation Virgil could possibly rationalize was they’d lied about the purpose of the therapy, or the method, or something. But any type of change in a foster kid's life had to go through about a million different levels to get approved, so how the hell were they getting away with this?

It wasn’t too bad. A lot of it was using religious guilt, something Virgil did not have much of, saying he was immoral and inhumane. The rest of it was just his new therapist trying to dig into his supposed ‘trauma’ that made him ‘this way’, as if there was something that caused it. They talked a lot about his old foster homes, and his therapist seemed positive something there had to be the root to everything. It made his blood boil.

It didn’t help that they still hadn’t given his phone back, and they confined him to his room when he wasn’t doing school work at the kitchen table. He could hear the way his soulmate was losing morale, the longer he didn’t respond. The songs were darker, and were few and far between. They still refused to play songs on what he’d called ‘his days’.

--------------------

His ‘therapy’ had ended hours ago, and yet he couldn’t stop twitching. Every time he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep, it was like the electrodes were attached to him again. The images they’d shown him flashed before his eyes, of men kissing, holding hands, and were quickly followed by the sharp sting of electric shocks. He couldn’t close his eyes without flinching violently, no music to calm his nerves.

Virgil didn’t sleep that night.

----------------------

He held to the music like an anchor, soaking in every rare song his soulmate played like a sponge. It was his only relief from the hunger pangs in his stomach, reminding him that he hadn’t been allowed to eat at all in the day leading up to another therapy session. Apparently they wanted to put him on some kind of medication, try to increase the intensity of his sessions. It was getting to the point where Virgil was tempted to pretend it was working just to make them stop.

He missed his soulmate.

----------------------

No. He’d said no to the drugs. They wanted to put him on anti-psychotics, claiming he was severely mentally ill, and he’d downright refused. There was no way in hell he was going on anti-psychotics. Finally, after days of their demanding being met with stubbornness, they’d given in.

That had been a month ago. Maybe. Time had gotten kind of funny, like in that limbo between Christmas and New Years, or in the depths of summer break. It had been a while, for sure. They still fed him so rarely a growling stomach was more common than a full one, claiming it was part of his new therapy. He couldn’t help wonder why he was gaining weight, though. He’d been underweight for a majority of his life, thanks to a constantly overworking metabolism and genetics, along with the nasty food they served at group homes that he gladly avoided, but he was starting to fill out slightly. His ribs were barely showing.

That would be a symptom of being on antipsychotics, he knew from previous research. But he wasn’t on them, so why…?

He took another sip of his apple juice his foster mom had brought him, trying to focus on his homework. Had apple juice always tasted that bitter?

-----------------------

They’d gone too far this time, Virgil knew that much. Curse his stubbornness, his inability to just lie and go along with it. He could have just claimed the conversion therapy was working, ‘oh golly, I’m healed!’, and go on with his life, finally talk to his fucking social worker, but no. He wasn’t capable of that.

They’d shown him more pictures, shocking him more frequently, refusing to stop the session even as tears streamed down his face. It just hurt so bad. Then he remembered a shout (maybe his own?), blinding pain, and the next thing he knew, he was in his foster dad’s car. He said he’d had a seizure, but he was okay now, so they were heading home. A cup of water was forced down his throat and he was laid down in bed, commanded to rest. He was so confused, but also so tired, so he let his eyes drift shut.

Just before he lost consciousness for the second time that day, he heard a soft melody drift through his mind as his soulmate played another song. It had been so long since the last time he’d heard them play music… despite his exhaustion, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

--------------------

The days had been a bit of a blur since his seizure. It was probably because his brain had done the human equivalent to ‘Have you tried turning it off and back on again?’, but even that was hazy in his mind. All he wanted to do was sleep, to rest, to not have to do the school work that they were still shoving down his throat. From where he was laying motionless in his bed, he watched the slowly setting sun dip below the horizon.

There was a knock at the door downstairs. Virgil flinched from the noise, triggering a series of twitches down his spine and into his limbs. People were talking downstairs. He could distinctly hear the voice of his foster parents, but the others were unfamiliar. They were getting louder, near shouting, and there were pounding footsteps echoing up the stairs and down his hallway.

He couldn’t even find the energy to be scared as his door was thrown open and a man’s voice shouted, “He’s in here!”. A flurry of people stormed into the room, the ones in the lead dressed in blue.

Clambering, people shifting to make space, a woman holding his hand. She was asking him questions as they loaded him into a stretcher and he tried his best to answer, but he was just so tired. His name was said multiple times, as well as the names of his foster parents, but it was hazy, so hazy…

“We were just trying to help, I didn’t want this to happen, I don’t-”

“Quiet, woman!”

She raised her voice but it was growing farther away. Virgil realized with a start that he was looking at the sky, bumping along on the gravel path, the bright lights of an ambulance flashing across his vision.

The husband shouted again, trying to silence his wife. That was the last thing Virgil heard as the doors slammed shut, and he finally allowed his eyes to close.

Part 3 HERE

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#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #abuse tw #conversion therapy tw #ts soulmate au #sanders sides fanfiction #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau #sanders sides au #sanders sides

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sly-merlin · 4 years ago

Text

KILLING ME - 4

(minor friendly chapter)

pairing : law student! Reader + yuta

Genre : angst, mafia au/arranged marriage au

Warnings : none.

Words : 5k

Summary:

"life's never fair y/n. Realise it as soon as you can. It is the only secret for living a regretless life."

"curiosity got the cat hitched"

K.m masterlist

A/n : this series is totally minor friendly now. ✨

Previous morning in Taeyong’s office

“What was that for!” taeyong questioned jaehyun, clearly annoyed by his previous hostile mannerisms towards you. Jaehyun was on the receiving end of taeyong’s infuriation immediately after you departed from his office with doyoung.

“What!?” Jaehyun tried to act oblivious to Taeyong's accusations.

“Why were you trying to scare her? Escort ring! For fucks sake Jae, I expected better from you.”

“But it wasn’t a dead loss. And even you went along in the same wagon, so don’t put everything on me alone.” Jaehyun justified himself by shrugging his shoulders lightly. “And admit it! She was giving you a hard time. That bitch was not buying anything!

Taeyong knew jaehyun was right. Your unsatisfied replies and never ending enquiries were exasperating him, but he would rather preserve his precious ego than admitting that to jaehyun.

He ruffled his well-made hair before replying to Jaehyun, who was expecting some gratitude with a smug face.

“I-- just be careful and refrain from doing and saying anything that might put a dent in my plan. It’s a chance Neo would never get again. So be patient and don’t go around opening your mouth about this to anyone.” jaehyun reluctantly nodded,not hearing what he wanted but his affirmation calmed taeyong’s nerves. He couldn’t trust jaehyun entirely but his options were limited.

All the pieces were in the right place, for now. Nothing could go south right!

But jaehyun couldn’t completely understand the rationale behind Taeyong’s design.

and nor could the figure standing outside, completely hidden from the insiders.

The dread of the forthcoming finals substantiated the shortage of vacant seats in the kwanjeong library. You tried your best to arrive as expeditiously as possible for a person who partied, got abducted, arranged her own marriage, and again partied in grief, all in spam of about 34 hours. Finding no available seat, you decided to settle down on the floor. You gulped your cup of Americano in one go and began with the donut. As per a wise saying, Caffeine and sugar were the best combination as a breakfast for someone trying to get through their day with only 4 hours of sleep, the intellect being none other than your own self!

Yesterday was a pretty long day. Though you were worn out from the adventures with wonwoo last night, your brain wasn’t exhausted enough to shut down properly when you tried to close your eyes.The flashes of the events had shrouded you with a mixture of regrets and worries. What was the guarantee that you won’t end up dead tomorrow! What if taeyong was lying! But the fact regarding moon industries was absolutely legible. Maybe you should get a restraining order or something! But the existence of a person is necessary for that and yuta was a fucking corporate in the public eye and you were sure taeyong held some powerful position in the rich hierarchy as well, otherwise, covering the shits without revealing their true identities was not the job of some measly gang leader. There was more to taeyong than what someone could perceive just by looking. Will you be considered one of them now! After the little stunt that landed you straight into yuta’s life, you weren’t sure that he’d not strangle you in sleep. And What were you going to say to them? Chelin, yeom, guk, yeong.

and your thoughts spiralled from taeyong,yuta towards chelin and your friends and didn’t rest anytime before 4a.m. Waking up at 8 sharp , you took a shower and made your way towards the library.

And now you were here. 2 students passed your figure indicating that there were 2 vacant seats. Finally, after 15 minutes. They might have been the overnight students, you thought and walked inside before anyone else could claim the treasure. You had to find a new topic of thesis and do some research for an international paper your professor was writing, and you being his designated so-called subordinate had to help him, involuntarily of course. But in this world, the student who could refuse their professor’s demands was yet to be born! Marking the place by placing your bag, you started the search for last month’ law journals and digests. One and a half hours passed, but you couldn’t find anything on the international court of justice i.e. what your professor hadn’t already included. The urge to go out was profusely weighed down by your own sentiment of avoiding your friends. So you decided in favour of swallowing the bitter pill.

5 hours passed. The vibration of the timer in your phone prompted you to run off and get some food. It was already 2:30 and the lack of real food was making the tasks harder than they already were. Stepping outside into fresh air, instant regret of not bringing an umbrella washed over you. The sun was too bright unlike your mood and walking all the way to your favourite canteen would end up in you getting another headache. But you silently wished that every being from yesterday’s party was suffering from the same treatment of the over-the-top optimistic planet. why to suffer alone!

“Shortie” you lifted your head, spotting the combo of buy 1 get 1 free, heading your way.

“Where were you the whole day? And if you aren’t going to pick calls then please do that poor thing a favour and sell it!” yugyeom barked while running his hand through his hair.

You shrugged jungkook’s elbow from your shoulder and replied “I was busy with prof. Joong’s work. And I have to be somewhere after 4 so I was a bit-

“Joong should adopt you already man!” Jungkook interrupted, nudging your sides with his fingers.

“ but I thought he wanted to be her sugar daddy!” At that gyeom gave a serious and stern look to kook, pretending to ponder over his statement for a second and then suddenly they both started laughing, hands hitting you everywhere to support their doubling figures.

“Get away from me, idiots!” you shouted, trying to get away from them. Once they were done with showing their exaggerated emotions, you all giggled together in unison. they were wearing their fundraiser t-shirts, you noticed.

“When is the fundraiser?”

“At 5. But you won’t be there to support us cause you are busy with your daddy!” kook exclaimed while bumping your shoulder with his arm.

“I didn’t say I’m going for Joong’s work and no, he’s not my sugar daddy, doofus. I’m busy with tutoring. I missed someone’s Saturday class so—

“Okay, chill tiger. You need to breathe. It’s a boring event anyway.” gyeom said in a comforting tone, interjecting your rapid fire speech.

“I’m gonna have lunch, are you two going?” you suggested.

“Yeah, it’s our break and Yeong and Minjun have eaten already, so that leaves you!” kook pouted when gyeom mentioned his boyfriend’s name.

“Let’s go! I want my sugar” your dramatic pout made yugyeom pet your hair lovingly and the three of you started walking on a stone pathway on the way to the canteen.

“Where’s your umbrella?” jungkook asked you. He knew how much you hated walking under the sun after the drinking escapades.

“I forgot but let’s not talk about it. it’s making me grumpy.”

“Okay! but why don’t you cover your head with that scarf instead.” he said pointing towards the silky material around your neck.

“Naahh, it ruins my fashion” they gave each other a puzzled look, shrugging their shoulders for they both couldn’t gather the reason for your weird behaviour.

At lunch, you talked to them about the fundraiser and gave your own contribution for the noble cause. The conversation with them progressed too easily and for about an hour you forgot about the turmoil in your life, which was still unknown to them.

After parting away, you went straight to your professor to show him your progress. He took note of the materials you found on recent cases and dismissed you without showing any gratitude. Not even a word of appreciation.

A ping!

Jaemin: noona, doyoung hyung is picking you up at 4 but he won’t enter the campus. Be out at 4!

You let out a frustrated groan at his text. You had only met him once, when he conferred upon you the honour of connecting your phone to his server but that was not the only favour you received! He also saved his contact number with various hearts that you obviously removed after reaching home. you could only pray to heavens that he won’t be there today as well!

You made your way to the library again, this time to work on your thesis. The time passed faster than you thought. The alarm you placed earlier vibrated, indicating it was 4 already! You hastily made your bag and ran out of the library. It took 10 minutes to reach the gates of the campus. When you passed your dorms building, the idea of ditching doyoung and going to bed sounded tempting but as usual, nothing was going your way these days. You felt like the old catch 22 was in action.

You passed through the gates and looked around the road to find doyoung's car but he was nowhere to be seen. While you were scanning the whole area, a low voice called your attention.

“What are you finding, I’m right here under your nose” a voice said through gritted teeth.

Yes, he was indeed sitting in the car right in front of you and the only one you missed apparently. You walked around the car to sit on the passenger seat, the tinted windows hiding you from the outside funfair.

“What took you so long? It's 4:15 already.”

“I don’t have a car like you so I walked myself here and it’s not like I did it purposely anyway.” You contended, the annoyance in your voice matching his own.

“Whatever, we are already late so turn around. Taeyong would be mad.”

“No I’m not turning around. First that cloth bag, then the handkerchief you tied on my eyes yesterday, its painful man. I’ll lose my eyesight this way. And I can navigate the whole city from this place, you can’t hide your dungeon from me now” you reasoned. He didn’t tie your hands yesterday but your eyes were still covered.

“Then give me your scarf. I’ll cover your eyes with your own choice of article. It’s not painful or else you won’t be wearing it right! he said mockingly, pointing towards your neck.

“Umm, this scarf is act-

“Give me that already. I have some other things to handle as well.” assessing your options, you hesitantly removed the scarf, turning around to face the window immediately. Doyoung tied it across your eyes, checking the knot twice and tapped your shoulder. As you turned around, doyoung’s doe eyes widened, if that was even possible. Your collarbone and neck, which was visible through your v neck top, was covered with pretty purplish bruises. You fidgeted with your hands, flustered, feeling his eyes on you. But he remained quiet, focusing on the task at hand.

The whole drive was quiet and though your hands were not tied, you kept them on your backpack, hesitant to start any conversation. The car stopped finally, the mixed feelings coming back. The same process followed. He guided you inside but this time you passed only one door and the walk was quite shorter as well.

As doyoung was about to remove your scarf, a hand stopped him, or that was what you understood from the movements at that time.

“Silky scarf, blindfold and hickies haan! Being kinky doyoungie. She’s your sister-in-law. Show some respect boy!” a voice remarked, the air around your face suddenly filled with chocolate and coffee. You hiccupped all of a sudden, earning a chuckle from the unknown presence.

You tried to reach for the blindfold, but your hands were caught mid-air, the said hands removing it. You blinked your eyes a few times to make out the figure’s face. He was standing, mostly bending to match your stature, face smiling to show all of his teeth.

Yuta.

You, surprised, took a step back but instead bumped into the one behind you.

“I’ll take over from here, doyoung.” but fortunately, he didn’t budge. Your hold on the backpack tightened, your eyes lowered to avoid his gaze. The only thing in your view were his baggy pants and white sports shoes.

But yuta could see only you and nothing else. Taeyong wasn’t the only one awaiting your arrival. Yuta was equally anticipating you. His night was just as sleepless and anxious as you. He was afterall at the other end of the rope.

He raised your head, fingertips lightly grazing your chin. His hooded eyes roamed around your face like he was expecting you to show some contempt , hatred,nervousness! He straightened up abruptly and started tying the silk around your neck. You flinched at his touch but he remained void of any reaction. His half denim jacket and white t-shirt hid you from the surroundings, his arms almost engulfing you. He repositioned himself to match your height again, arms crossing against his chest.

“Looks like someone had a fun night.” and in a second, his honey smile changed into a smirk, letting go of any trace of earlier softer expressions. And the look on his face was enough to scare the shit out of anyone.

“Stop yuta” a taller man you recognised from yesterday as Johnny, pushed yuta aside from your view. It was then you saw that everyone was there. Including the one you were yet to encounter.

Your eyes wandered from one side to the other. Johnny let you inspect.

“Doyoung, what was the need to cover her eyes?” Johnny whispered to doyoung, breaking your trance.

“Why is everyone nagging me so much” he whined in a screeching voice.

“Karma bitch” Johnny pointed his forefinger towards him before giving his attention to you.

“Hey, how are you y/n.” he asked, his cheerful voice totally in contrast with the weather of the room.

“I’m- ummm.” you cleared your throat before continuing. “I’m fine Johnny. As fine I can be.” you mumbled the last part but he surely heard you.

“You remembered my name!” he clapped, his eyes turning into crescents. You gave him a tight lipped smile in return, waiting for some instructions. As if on cue, taeyong’s loud voice graced your ears.

“Come y/n. make yourself comfortable” he indicated towards the couches that were almost already occupied. Johnny gestured to you to proceed, walking with you. You passed yuta who was still smirking and sat on the single seat available next to taeyong. You placed your backpack on the large table in the middle of the room. It looked like a normal living room for guests, just with too many couches to accommodate the gang. You felt like an uninvited because apparently everybody was watching you like a hawk. Their stares changed sight only when yuta came to take a seat on one of the couches, exactly opposite to yours. You met his eyes briefly before turning your face towards your bag again.

Who knew the rusty zips of your bag were so interesting!

“So y/n I thought you should meet everyone. You are going to be part of this family soon. Better get acquainted with all.” taeyong addressed you while he sat on his couch majestically like a king. You heard a dry laugh and if you had to guess it had to be from jaehyun or yuta.

You didn’t understand why he wanted that. You were just a risk till yesterday and now means to discipline yuta.

And why all the formalities if you were gonna leave anyway.

“I’m going to leave anyway, taeyong. So I don’t see a need to do it!

You were too consumed to notice how your sentence turned all the heads around you. Some started giving side eyes to each other. There was something they were all missing.

“I said you could leave. But not without my permission. So, you’d be stuck for now, maybe till months or years.”

You gulped at his words. Taeyong turned your only hope into a distant dream. Maybe you were too foolish to gauge the situation.

“You want something to eat or drink before we continue” he asked in a sincere voice. Shaking your head, you rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands to stop them from moistening. There was nothing more embarrassing than to cry in front of a bunch of strangers who didn’t give a shit about you.

“No, please continue.” you emphasised again to not draw any more attention to yourself than already was. And you internally thanked Taeyong who continued as if you weren’t just gonna cry!

“You will move in with yuta on Saturday,” it was Monday. “The wedding ceremony would be held in the morning. So you have a few days to prepare, everything from your dress to every other thing you need shall be arranged. Just name it and you’ll have it!”

Wedding ceremony! That was not on the plate!

“I don’t want a cerem-

“Leave the bullshit ta-

You and yuta both cut off each other simultaneously. You glanced at his side, finding him already piercing his gaze into yours.

“There’s no need for it. The paper signing is enough. It’s not like we are in-

You knew taeyong understood what you were trying to say, so you didn’t continue. But you were already having a feeling of superiority over yuta for being the first to offer your opinion. It felt like a payback for flustering you earlier. You refrained from facing him again, your body turned towards taeyong only, but you felt satisfied with the thought of him being riled up.

“Oh, but I want a ceremony taeyong and mark is going to be the best man. He’s so excited. You can’t do that to him!” yuta emphasised through the variation in his voice. You knew he changed his argument purposely , but you maintain your cool, opting to ignore him . bear and forbear.

Taeyong raised his eyebrow at you but you shook your head again.

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea. It’s not a normal one anyway so why pretend!” you held your ground.

“You aren’t getting married to a mannequin.” yuta retracted. “I’m getting married as well and don’t anyone dare say that I made a mistake and blah blah. At last I’ll be hitching so I want a ceremony and Japanese at that!”

Oh yeah, he was Japanese. You have missed that as well.

All the other men in the room, 9 to be exact, were nodding at everything that was being said. They were unable to decide whose argument was worth taking side for. Finally Johnny spoke-

“I think y/n is right” looking at nowhere in particular, he continued. “What’s with pomp and show when it’s nothing more than an agreement”

“But if yuta hyung wants it, then why not. They are going to live together, he should have his say as well.” It was Mark who took yuta’s side. He didn’t know why but watching yuta losing ground urged him to support his brother.

You looked briefly at the boy who just argued with Johnny.

“He’s mark y/n.” taeyong said the answer you were looking for. “And he’s Jungwoo, jeno, doyoung, you have already met him, then jaehyun, johnny, renjunie, hendery. Others are busy so you’ll meet them some other day probably.”

A few waved towards you, including Mark, who shyly withdrew his hand quickly. They all probably hated you as there was no other reaction towards a person who almost put your life in danger!

“Can we get to a middle ground now? I’m already getting tired of this” jaehyun grumbled, leaning into the couch.

“Ok so, he wants a celebration of a lie! What about me then? You are all here but I have no one. I’m alone and probably will be. Because taeyong, you haven’t told me how am I going to reveal this to my friends? I may not have a family, but still there are people close to me. They are my best friends, roommate, and many others who need to know! How am I going to explain to them that their friend who didn’t even have a boyfriend, is getting married suddenly? I don’t even have parents to cover it with an arranged marriage. How to convince them? Give me a way and I’ll agree” you pointed out the very important detail that they were missing. But they needed to know that there was other side of the paper as well and your reasons were not just a cry in the wilderness.

Nobody made a sound. Everything went quite like a dark night until-

“I hope this is not the calm before a storm!” you looked over to see the person who broke the silence. It was another young man coming with a food trolley, probably from the kitchen.

“I thought we have a guest so I prepared some coffee and donuts. I hope you like sweets y/n” the man was smiling ear to ear, seeming too happy with your visit.

“I-

“I’m kun.” he introduced himself and you shook his hand. He seemed too polite for a criminal. “Have this and tell me how it is” he forcibly handed you a dessert plate with a chocolate glazed donut. You took it out of politeness but felt a bit weird to be the only one eating it. You watched him with quizzical eyes as he took one for himself and sat on the arm of your couch. Everyone was now staring at your movements.

“Eat it, eat it. These are for you and me only.” he cajoled.

You decided to take a bite and then place it back just to stop the awkwardness.

As you bit it from one side, your brain short circuited. “Holy shit, bro. What is this sorcery.” your genuine and innocent reaction made Kun laugh loudly, some of the others joined in as well.

“Thank god, you like it! I’m so glad you aren’t one of weight conscious ones, otherwise it’d have been weird.” he started munching on his own piece.

“I’m a sugar bear. I can’t live without sugar. I just had a donut in the morning but it was bleh compared to this. You are a master chef bro.” and for a minute you forgot the previous tense environment. Everyone was glad that Kun came to save the situation and except to you, it was known that obviously he heard everything from the kitchen.

“You ate one in the morning! Then it’s the last one you’re getting. Everyone help yourself. She’s not having any more!” as if they were waiting, everyone except mark and yuta picked them up.

“Mark” Kun motioned towards the tray and he grabbed one as well.

“What if I was allergic to chocolate, kun” you asked him while finishing your treat.

“Oh please! Even ten eats it.” he laughed to himself at his reference, which went over your head.

“Now coming to the point.” Everyone looked at taeyong who was already done with eating. “Y/n doesn’t want anything special so it’ll happen like that. No!yuta, lemma speak. And you y/n, it’s upon you to make your friends believe. Make up a story or do whatever you want. You don’t want to tell them about the wedding. Fine with me but do let them know at least that you have a boyfriend that you are moving in with! It’s on you both to make this arrangement believable.

“okay , sho now I shuggenly hab a voyfiend” you started speaking without even finishing the bite in your mouth. you continued once you chewed it.

“won't they be suspicious. They know exactly what I do and what I don’t. It’s almost impossible to put a façade in front of them.”

“Oh please, don’t tell me they even know from where you got those hickies” jaehyun’s curt statement was a hit below the belt. Kun was about to scold him when you elaborated his statement further to prove that he was doing nothing but burning his own fingers.

“Yes, actually they happen to know. When, where and from whom I got these. Anything else you want to ask?.” he rolled his eyes on your reply, busing himself with the delicacy instead.

“They don’t know yuta. So if you want you can introduce him to your people. He won’t be posing any problem, take my word for it.”

“I’ll go with you if you also accompany me,that I guess would be a problem for you. You don’t want to be seen with a criminal, or do you!” yuta jabbered. He was trying to push your buttons to measure your limit. But little did he know that you were far from being that easy.

“I just said I don’t want a wedding. I’ll agree to anything that is reasonable and is not degrading to me.”

“Ok then, nobody would force you to do what you don’t want.” Taeyong decided to take matters into his own hands now. “And we’ll organise a small, very intimate gathering at taeil’s office to celebrate as yuta wants. And you’ll be introduced as Mrs. Nakamoto to our corporate world.” taeyong finished gauging both of your reactions. The surname was foreign and cringing to you. But it was going to be yours, so there was nothing you could do, for now.

“What do you mean ‘our’ corporate world.” you got puzzled at his choice of words.

“You’ll find out soon and it's nothing scary, don’t worry.” Kun responded on behalf of taeyong this time, handing you your cup of coffee. “Tell me if it’s cold, I’ll-

“No it’s totally fine.” you assured him, without even taking a sip. He was being nice enough already.

“If my opinion has no value, then what am I even doing here!” yuta shouted, getting up from the seat.

“yut-

Before Kun could say anything, he stormed off. Mark tried to follow but taeyong stopped him from doing that.

“Don’t mind him. He’s a hot head.” Johnny laughed in between his bites.

You only nodded, sipping your coffee. You were glad he was gone. Sugar has always done wonders for you and it was having the same effects now as well. You were able to think more rationally now.

“One more thing” you furrowed your brows at taeyong. What was left now! “Do you want any specifications in the house? It’s my responsibility. A wedding gift you can say. If you need anything like extra closet, a more spacious kitchen-

“Kitchen?” you let out a brief chuckle at that. Everyone’s eyes were on you now. “It’ll be totally fine if I don’t even get a kitchen. I can’t cook anything besides ramyeon and salads. So I won’t even need that.”

“You are a student. Don’t you know anything basic.” It was Jungwoo who spoke in the sweeter voice than Kun's.

“No. I grew up in an orphanage and they provided us everything. I left when I started law. So all in all, I never had anyone to teach me. That’s why if you want to know best food trucks and restaurants in the city, I’m your best option.but, if that yuta knows how to cook, ask him about the kitchen.” you spoke nonchalantly .But you didn’t realise how uncomfortable the air had become. a heavy silence took over the light atmosphere.

“I’m sorry noona” Jungwoo apologised sheepishly.

“It’s fine. After all there are some things that your hacker can’t find out. only I can tell you those.” saying that, you faced taeyong again. “But if you insist, I can always use a study room.” you tried to enlighten the mood again.,ppp

“Ok. I’ll find something suitable for you both.” you hummed, not knowing what to say anymore.

“Can I go back now?”

“Yes, doyoung will drop you.”

“No, I’ll go with her.” Johnny said, grabbing your attention. He didn’t look sulky like doyoung so, it’d be fine, you guess.

They said you goodbyes. Mark seemed hesitant to even look at you, but you couldn’t care less. He was just a stranger after all.

Yuta couldn’t realise why everyone was trying to be so nice to you. Till yesterday, he was allowed to put a gun on her head but now every being was against him. He didn’t know why he was so furious at Taeyong, to force him to marry you or for dragging Mark into this mess. Taeyong knew how to play dirty, but yuta never thought he’d use his own brother. There was no option for him as well, as taeyong has said. He showed interest in a fucking celebration to contradict you, but you were not backing down and that felt like a punch to his gut.

He drove towards his stress reliever. The infamous Japanese club, the only place where he could drown his sorrows.

The club was packed despite it being Monday. That was one thing he liked about it, you’ll never be disappointed in this place.

“ゆた!” The hostess chimed seeing yuta. “久しぶり” [ long time, no see!]

He signed her to give him 2 shots. She did as told but her gaze was following yuta’s, which rested on her cleavage. He came here only for 2 things after all.

He gulped the drink in a second without blinking an eye.

“バックルーム” [ back room]

She wasn’t someone to be told twice. She handed her hand towel to her co-worker and followed the path. Who was she to reject him after all?

He drove back silently again. The relief he felt was all dissipated now. Instead his mind was already wandering towards you. Your headstrong attitude was troubling him. his plans were all down and out. He hated you , from the moment he laid his eyes on you. You acted like you were invincible but he knew it was just a mask to protect yourself.

He had noticed how you rubbed your eyes to hide your disappointment for you didn’t want to appear weak. All he had to do now was to find a vulnerable part of you, to hit you where it’d hurt the most. It’d be last time he lost to you.

Afterall, beginning is always easy, it is continuing that’s hard!

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct mafia #nct series #nct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct arrange marriage #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #yuta x reader #yuta mafia #yuta arrange marriage #yuta angst #yuta fluff #nct fanfics

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detectivehannibal · 4 years ago

Text

Two Timed (pt.2)

Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Implications of cannibalism

Part 1: Here

A/N: Here it is, friends! Thank you for your patience!

Word Count: 2,113

“I’m done giving second chances. I don’t even know if I can give anyone even a first chance ever again.”

God, it was cold. Like freezing cold. No, it wasn’t the snow that was sticking to your windshield or the fact that everybody was bundled up in layers that gave it away. It was the usual sting and the ache as the coldness rushed through your body. The way your movements were ever slightly slowed each time you went to do something. The shivers and shakes as your body’s natural response to retain as much heat as possible. You didn’t care though. You were fueled by anger and hurt. That was enough energy to keep you going for days.

Truthfully, you weren’t really sure where you were going or how long you had been on the road. Instead of packing your things from Hannibal’s house as you had planned, you immediately got on the road. Hannibal basically pleaded and begged (all while maintaining his composure) for you to stick around as he chased you to your car. He claimed there was a misunderstanding and that had never been unfaithful. But of all things, there was one thing you knew to be true about Hannibal Lecter.

He’s a damn good liar.

You figured as long as you were familiar with the area around you then it was safe to keep going. You knew your way around the state well enough to do so. You wanted to be alone. For now anyways.

Will was frightened out of his wits. Not knowing where you were and being unsure of your mental state terrified him. He had been calling and texting you nonstop. He knew you needed to be alone, but even a simple text from you would ease his nerves. He didn’t like the idea of you being out and about with no real sense of where you were going.

Hannibal was scared too, but it didn’t show. He was much more patient than his dog loving companion. He knew you’d come back eventually. He just had to wait you out...no matter how long it took. He would be the first to admit, he ended up waiting MUCH longer than he expected. So much longer that he was beginning to wonder if something terrible had happened to you. He was relieved, however, when he caught word that you had contacted Will, 2 weeks after that fateful night. You didn’t say much in your text to Will. Just a simple phrase letting him know you were okay. Hannibal knew you’d be there shortly.

You walked up the steps of your and Hannibal’s...well, now Hannibal’s home. You could hear two voices inside arguing.

“I suggest you take it easy, Will. You’re pacing.” Hannibal’s thick voice rang out.

Will chuckled incredulously. He was unbelievably angry at Hannibal and himself. Hannibal for doing such an awful thing to you. Himself for not being able to save you from a world of hurt.

“Take it easy? Are you serious? This is your fault and you’re telling me to calm down?” He asked his refined therapist; “She’s been gone for 2 weeks without any word. Who knows how she’s feeling right now...I know how I’d feel.” He mumbled in fury.

Hannibal looked at Will the way he always did. A sense of mystery and fascination. He didn’t respond, curious to see if Will would go on. And go on he surely did;

“You know, I was beginning to think I was wrong about you. The way she always talked about you had almost convinced me that my initially feeling of you wasn’t accurate,” He hissed; “I guess I was wrong about being wrong. You’re just as I thought.”

The light snow melted into your clothes and transformed into water droplets on your boots as you entered the warmth of his home, not able to bear hearing anymore of this conversation. He had been sitting in his study with Will, his ears seeming to perk when he heard his front door close. Will’s pacing stopped and he exited the study to the breezeway. To his surprise, you didn’t look any different. He half expected you to look like a hot mess. Instead you just looked...empty.

“Oh...Will,” You breathed out, honestly happy to see him; “I didn’t know you were here.”

Will pulled you into the tightest hug you had ever felt. This was a little out of character for your beloved friend. He usually kept physical touch to a minimum. You had no intention of scaring him the way he had been. He understood you just didn’t want to see anyone for awhile. Still, he couldn’t help but worry. He eventually let you go, looking deep into your eyes to ensure that you were really in front of him.

It wasn’t long before the man of the hour stepped out from his study. You looked into his eyes the way Will had looked into yours. Hannibal’s eyes were always a mix of blazing fire and a calm sea. He was so complicated. It was a wonder you were ever able to understand him.

“Hannibal,” You greeted flatly; “I’m just here to get my things. It shouldn’t take me very long.”

His hands were in his pockets and his posture was perfectly upright. His eyes shifted to the dining room for just a brief moment before returning to you;

“Would it be inappropriate to ask you to stay for dinner? I’m sure you haven’t had a decent meal in weeks.” He proclaimed.

Damn him and his spot on perception. He was right. You hadn’t had what he would consider a “real” meal the entire time of your absence. You knew what dinner meant for Hannibal Lecter. Even during your marriage, the thought of it never failed to make your stomach flip. You didn’t understand it and you’d be lying if you said you never felt guilty about being the only other person who knew he was the one Jack Crawford had been looking for. You wrestled with it often. That was the power Hannibal had. He could make anybody question their morals.

“I’m fine. I’ll just be getting my things,” You repeated.

You turned towards the staircase and began the trek to the bedroom. You refused to let Hannibal steer you back to him. Throughout your 2 week disappearance, you went back and forth trying to decide if this was the last straw. He had hurt you in the worst way possible and there was no reconciliation for that. Then why did you still have the slightest desire to make things work? At the end of the day, you guessed that a part of you would always still love him.

A pair of heavy footsteps followed behind you up the staircase. Once you reached the top, you turned around. Expecting to see Hannibal, you clenched your jaw as a response. You were surprised to see Will instead.

“Can we talk?” He asked as he continued to follow you.

You didn’t respond until you entered the bedroom, retrieving your suitcase from the closet;

“Sure.” You replied.

He watched for a moment as you began rifling through drawers and packing them away.

“I know what you’re thinking. I know there’s still a part of you that wants to stay.” Will claimed.

“I don’t want to stay.” You bantered back a little too quickly.

Will chuckled in disbelief. He could smell your lies from across the room;

“Don’t lie to me. I know you,” He said; “I know you don’t just get over things like that.”

A heavy sigh heaved from your chest. So maybe you had two extremely perceptive people in your life.

“Will, I-”

“No, please listen. I know how you are. You’re going to doubt your decision to leave at some point and think about coming back,” He said standing firmly next to you; “You’ll wonder if it was worth leaving and I’m telling you that there’s no way you can come back here.”

He saw the tips of your eyes begin to narrow and your brows dip as annoyance arose in you;

“You think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t know how stupid I’d be to come back to him? I didn’t want things to turn out this way,” You spat; “Why are you telling me this?”

Without hesitation, Will dropped a huge ball of truth on you;

“Because you care too much. You always give people second chances. I told you not to give him a second chance. Ever. You believe that everybody has a good reason for hurting others and that they are good inside,” He fired off; “I know you’re going to try to come back thinking that he won’t do it again. And I’m telling you that’s not a risk worth taking.”

His words knocked you silent and brought tears to your eyes. You felt like everybody around you seemed to be right. You put a few final items in your suitcase and zipped it shut. You’d be staying with a friend of yours for awhile. Just until you could find somewhere else to live. You had to admit, you hated leaving this house behind. It had so many memories. Good and bad ones. You just wished that your last time in it didn’t have to be the worst of them all.

You knew that right now was probably the last best chance you’d ever have at getting the ultimate revenge on Hannibal. You had his deepest, darkest secret at your disposal. You just had to tell Will that Hannibal was The Chesapeake Ripper. Just five measly words. But then you’d be no better than anybody else. That wouldn’t mend your pain.

“I’m not coming back, Will. I can promise you that,” You quivered; “I’m done giving second chances. I don’t even know if I can give anyone even a first chance ever again.” You said lightly.

Now he was silent. He figured he’d have to put up more of a fight. His shoulders eased and his head lowered a little. He knew it’d probably be awhile before he saw you again. But he knew, at least, that you’d call him to check in. God, he loved you. He was beginning to think he loved you in a way that he shouldn’t. You were his best friend. It felt so wrong to romantically be in love with his best friend.

“Thanks for caring about me, Will. I know how you feel about me. I just can’t right now. I’m sorry.” You whispered.

You brushed past him with tears spilling down your cheeks. You couldn’t stand to look at him right now. You knew you had just shattered him. The feeling of hypocrisy crept over you. Now it seemed you were the one breaking hearts.

There was no sign of Hannibal as you re-entered the breezeway. Now, at least you could get out of here peacefully. That relief was short lived when you heard a familiar accented voice just as your hand placed itself on the door handle;

“My infidelity wasn’t committed with the intent of hurting anybody. I never intended to hurt you,” He calmly stated. “It wasn’t meant to be an act of mistrust.”

Your back was to him, afraid if you turned around that you’d go running into his arms. You shook your head;

“It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. It’s over.” You mumbled.

Truthfully, he thought you would stay. It wasn’t until really hearing you say it again that he realized it was truly over. For the first time in his life, he actually felt guilty. He was willing to take accountability for his actions. He knew he had truly hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.

“It doesn’t have to be. My time with Dr. Bloom is over,” He said walking up to you; “This doesn’t have to be the end of us.”

“We can’t go back to being the way we were and you know it. I wouldn’t be able to see you without always wondering why I wasn’t enough.” You growled.

He was looking at the back of your head, accepting that you weren’t going to face him;

“[Y/N], I-”

“Don’t say anything else. Please,” You begged; “I’m sorry this ended the way it did. Hopefully you’ll find someone who is enough and more.”

And with that, you finally opened the door to be met with a blast of freezing air. Hannibal didn’t chase after you. He knew better. Even the best hunters knew when it was time to let their prey go. So, he let you go. He watched you disappear into the falling snow. Your only wish was that you could somehow find someone new one day.

Someone who wouldn’t ever need to have a second chance.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal imagine #Hannibal TV #hannibal nbc #will graham hannibal #will graham x reader #will graham imagine

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theheartsmistakes · 4 years ago

Text

Any Other Name

.Chapter 1.

The London Institute hadn’t changed in the five years since Cordelia had last seen it. Its pointed rooftops disappeared into the alloy colored clouds that perpetually covered the sky of London making Cordelia sometimes wonder if underneath the constant precipitation the sky was purple or grey rather than blue. The arched glossy windows reflected the view of the city with the billowing smoke from the factories, the lines from the bridges, and the diamond-like flecks that glittered off of the Thames.

It rivaled the Institute in Tehran in size alone, but otherwise, the cold, steel gray of the stones had nothing on the warmth and light of the sand-colored building that she had been living in for the past five years. Already she missed the way the sun warmed the inside of the building and filled the rooms with its light that sent fractals of color off of the beads that adorned the bright colored drapes in her bedroom. She missed the smells of spices, burning applewood, and whatever flower bloomed wildly in that season as she walked the crowded merchant-lined streets.

She’d only been in London all of ten minutes and already she wanted to climb back through the portal and take her grandmother up on her offer to let her live there with her in her small one-bedroom flat.

“We are a family,” said her father proudly when he informed them at the dinner table only a week before that they (he) were offered the position to be head of the London Institute after the removal of William and Tessa Herondale. “This is a family decision. No one is staying behind. We are moving as a family.”

It didn’t feel like a family decision when he removed her bedroom door after she’d locked herself in for twenty-four hours in protest.

One year, she told herself. One measly little year in the dreary, desolate wasteland that was London, and then she would be eighteen and free to make her own decisions including where she wanted to live.

Her older brother Alastair, the bastard, had turned eighteen only a month ago and had opted to remain in Tehran to help oversee the Institute until the Clave found a family to take over. Cordelia bristled at the idea of someone else living in her room which she’d just managed to decorate according to her taste. What if they turned it into a boring old office or Angel forbid a crafts room.

Never, in her seventeen years, did she hate her parents. Not for any reason for they were quite good parents. They let her go out with her friends any night of the week she wanted, they supported her in whatever protest or interest she happened to be on even if it pertained to mundane issues, and she rather liked spending time with them when she wasn’t training or out in the city with her small, but loyal group of friends.

Her friends.

They’d only said goodbye a few hours ago, but she’d at least hoped for one fire message of encouragement to help her through these trying times.

She’d scold them for it later.

When she’d come to London as a child during her parent's annual Clave meetings, the only enjoyable part of being here visiting with the ever eccentric Lucie Herondale. They’d become fast friends when they first met at ten years old and remained in touch either through fire messages, the occasional visits, or annual Clave meetings. Until about six months, when all correspondence stopped. Cordelia sent her dozens of messages, but none of them were answered. When she attempted to call from a city payphone on the landline she knew Lucie kept, the automated message said the phone number had been disconnected.

Cordelia wondered if it was something that she had done or said that upset Lucie. That was until a week ago when her parents sat down with her and her brother and told them of the Clave’s decision to exile the Herondale’s for their demon blood.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!” Cordelia yelled when her parents informed both her and Alastair. “They’re exiled? What does that even mean?”

“It means they’re no longer considered Shadowhunters,” said Alastair from where he sat across from her at the dining room table. He was rather unperturbed by the situation which didn’t surprise Cordelia in the least. He never liked the Herondale’s; least of all James Herondale, Lucie’s older brother.

“I know what it means, Alastair, I’m being dramatic,” snapped Cordelia. “What did they do to deserve this? Will has always been an esteemed member of the Clave and Tessa as well. They can’t do this to them!”

Elias, Cordelia’s traitorous father looked to her mother Sona for assistance but her mother looked just as angry as Cordelia felt.

“It’s all to do with their blood,” said Elias carefully.

“Their blood?” Cordelia said as if he’d just announced he was infected with some virulent disease.

“Bigotry, darling,” said Sona and glanced at him over the edge of the purple scarf that concealed her hair. “I think the word you are looking for is ‘bigotry’.”

“No,” said Elias. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Why not,” said Sona, flippantly. “It’s not as if the Clave is here to hear you. We’ve always been honest with the children, it won’t do to stop now.”

“Sona, please.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. This was an argument that they have had before and did not side with one another. “We agreed to be a unified front.”

“I agreed to no such thing,” said Sona and turned her gaze to Cordelia. “The Clave upon hearing that Tessa’s father is the greater demon Belial, has decided that despite her angelic heritage, her blood is tainted and we cannot allow tainted blood into the community in fear that her demon-side will eventually take over and she— or her children— will be responsible for something horrendous which is the nature of their kind.”

Cordelia gapped like a landlocked fish. “That’s the most idiotic thing I have ever heard!”

Sona nodded.

“Tessa is one of the kindest, sweetest, most good-natured people that I have ever met!” Her voice inched up an octave that had Alastair grimacing. She didn’t care. This was criminal. This went against everything she’d ever believed. Tessa was someone as close to an aunt as Cordelia would ever have. “Doesn’t the angelic blood dominate the demon side anyway!”

Sona nodded. “The Clave claims they do not have enough evidence of this and therefore cannot risk it.”

“You keep saying the Clave,” said Cordelia vehemently. “Who exactly are you referring to?”

“It’s all of them, darling,” said Elias.

Sona rolled her eyes. “Inquisitor Bridgetstock, the toad, is who I am referring to and the hoard of Clave members that he has fear-mongered into following after him. This is what we deserve for establishing a democracy.”

“You’d prefer totalitarianism?” said Elias.

Sona just shrugged again. “If it meant avoiding this lunacy, then yes, I suppose I do.”

Cordelia felt like screaming to release some of the frustration building in her chest. “What about Will?”

“His mother was a mundane,” said Elias.

“Oh.” Cordelia felt her cheeks fill with heat. “So the Clave has something against Mundanes, as well. So was Sophie Lightwood, are they going to exile her too?”

“The Clave is trying to keep the Shadowhunter bloodline pure,” said Elias, carefully, but there was a note of distaste in the last word. “Sophie ascended so therefore she is for all intents and purposes a Shadowhunter. Also, Will wouldn’t abandon Tessa or his children even if it meant keeping his marks. He was very adamant about that part.”

Cordelia slumped back against her chair and crossed her arms in a way she hadn’t done since she was a child. “So what, we’re just meant to pretend like they never existed? Is that what you’re saying?”

Both of her parents averted their eyes. Sona looked down at her hands resting in her lap and Elias stared at the plate of food he hadn’t touched in front of him. “Yes,” he finally said. “The punishment for fraternizing with ‘the exiled’ or any Downworlder unless it is for official Clave business is deemed punishable.”

Cordelia scoffed, but it was Alastair who asked, “Punishable, how?”

“It depends on the severity,” said Elias and meant to leave it at that.

“Meaning,” inquired Cordelia.

“Meaning,” said Elias in a tone that implied he was finished with this conversation. “They are not our friends, colleagues, or otherwise. They are our enemies and we are to treat them as such. They are working on making this into a new law and if broken, it could mean the stripping of your marks.”

Even Alastair’s eyebrows rose at that. “It seems the Inquisitor is finally getting what he wanted after all, a cease and desist on any camaraderie with Downworlders. He always did see them as a vile group.”

Elias nodded but reached over to put his hand on Cordelia’s arm. “I know Lucie was a dear friend.”

Cordelia’s eyes swam with tears at the mention of Lucie’s name. She couldn’t imagine what Lucie was going through now. Was she afraid, angry, lonely, feeling everything all at once? At least she had her family, but was it enough? Would it be enough for Cordelia?

“I cannot stress how important it is that you obey these laws until we can come up with a way to have them disbanded,” said Elias. “I know your heart, Layla, I see its fire at any signs of adversity and I don’t want to be the one to temper it, but I need you to be careful and believe me when I saw, I will do everything within my capabilities to fix this.” He looked at each person sitting at the table with him. “I may not agree with the Clave’s decision, but for our own protection, we must comply. Do you understand?”

“You want us to be silent,” said Cordelia.

Elias’s hand slipped from his daughter’s arm.

“Sometimes words are not enough,” said Sona on the other end of the table. “Sometimes we can speak louder with our action. We have raised you to be free-thinkers, to defend the innocent, and protect the ones that need protecting. We trust that you will use your best judgement on how to do just that.”

Cordelia uncross her arms and dropped her hands into her lap. She wanted more than anything to go to her room and try to send another fire message to Lucie; to rage about how ridiculous this all was, and let her friend know that she wasn’t alone. That not for one moment would she, Cordelia Carstairs, who once painted herself red and marched through the streets of Tehran as a message to their mundane government that she did not agree with the patriarchal rules placed on women, would go along with these laws.

She thought of the Blackthorn family motto: Lex malla, lex nulla.

A bad law is no law and how she wished she could claim it is her own.

But she couldn’t message Lucie. She didn’t even have a way to reach her and maybe Lucie didn’t want to speak to her anyway if she hadn’t even attempted to contact her in some other way.

“I hate this,” she said quietly.

“I know, Layla,” said her mother. “I know.”

“What of the Fairchilds?” asked Alastair, stirring his mashed potatoes around with his fork. “How did the Clave get Charlotte to agree to this? They’re practically family. Isn’t the blond one parabatai with the eldest of the Herondales?”

Elias sighed and nodded. “He is— was. He is being stripped of his mark this week.”

Cordelia gasped and felt as if she might vomit. “Matthew would never!”

“He didn’t have a choice,” said Elias. “It was either have his parabatai mark removed or be exiled.”

“He’d choose to be exiled.” Cordelia didn’t know Matthew Fairchild all that well, but she knew he wouldn’t abandon his dearest and oldest friend. The friend he chose to tie his own life.

“He’s not yet eighteen,” said Elias. “He cannot make that choice.”

“Charlotte is allowing this?”

“Charlotte has been removed from her place as Consul for not agreeing to any of this and is being replaced by Marcus Pounceby.”

“Marcus Pounceby!” said Alastair and Cordelia together.

Their father just nodded though his expression had grown increasingly tired. “Yes, it appears that if one just bends every which way for the Clave one can achieve a lot.”

Cordelia had to physically restrain herself from flipping the table. “This is bullshit!”

“Cordelia!” Her mother hissed. “I know you’re upset, but I won’t hear that sort of language at the table.”

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t, and saying ‘this is crap’ just didn’t justify how she felt. “I can’t believe this is happening. I thought we were supposed to be better than mundanes. This feels like its been torn directly out of one of their history books. Next they’ll have use hunting Downworlders and demons.” She couldn’t sit there any longer. She couldn’t handle any more information that made her want to portal directly to Alicante and demand they strip her of her marks. What was stopping them from exiling her family next? What if they stopped liking her hair color or decided she wasn’t fit to be a Shadowhunter because she was a woman? “May I be excused?”

“You haven’t eaten anything,” said her mother.

“I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Your mother worked—“ Elias started but Sona shook her head and said, “Yes, just clear your plate and you can go.”

——————

In the week that followed that conversation things progressively got worse. It helped that she was in Tehran with her friends, battling demons that terrorized the night and training during the day, until that fateful night when her father declared that they were moving to the London Institute.

The inside seemed as dark and cold as the outside. She didn’t remember it being this way when she visited as a girl. It used to be so full of light, but perhaps it was the people that occupied it that made it that way. Now, it seemed as lonely and depressed by their absence as Cordelia felt.

She dragged her suitcase up the flight of stairs to the second story and shuffled down the hall at a glacial pace as if every step was a concession to agreeing to live here. The hallway had holes in it where pictures were once hung by Tessa of her family and their lives there. Cordelia could remember a few: one of Tessa and Will on their wedding day, another of Tessa heavily pregnant while hanging a Christmas ornament on the tree, one of Will holding a baby, and one of all four of them together underneath the Eiffel Tower. Lucie was only six in the picture and resting her tired head on her father’s shoulder. James stood in front of his mum with a half-smile on his face and a baguette in each of his hands.

The barren walls seemed to groan and sigh as she walked past.

The door she knew to be hers was already opened, a dull strip of light came out into the hallway. Cordelia stood in front of the dark red wood of the door and nudged it open with the toe of her boot. It squeaked on its hinges as it slowly revealed the bedroom inside.

Memories of laughter crashed into her like a blast of icy, winter wind. Two little girls sitting on the massive bed, the covers were thrown over their heads with a witch light glowing between them, as they brought their collection of dolls to life in elaborate stories.

It still smelled like her— like Lucie. A mixture of Damascus roses, ink, and freshly printed papers.

Cordelia sighed and dropped her bag at her feet.

The bed was the only thing that remained of what used to be Lucie’s old bedroom. Stripped of the colorful coverlet and sheets that Lucie had chosen, it was just an old mattress with a plush, lavender velvet headboard. The only sign of there ever having been any more furniture were the marks in the wooden floorboard where Lucie’s writing desk sat and piles of dust in the corners.

“It’s not much now,” said her mother whom she hadn’t heard come up behind her. “But you can make it your own.”

Cordelia scoffed. “I don’t want to make it my own.” It was Lucie’s. It would always be Lucie’s.

She felt her mother’s hand on her waist. “I know this is difficult for you, Layla, but we must make the best of it. It’s what Lucie would have wanted.”

Cordelia turned. “Please don’t talk about her as if she’s dead. I did what you asked, I moved here, please don’t expect me to be happy about it. It’s not enough that I have to stay in this house, but I have to live in her room and make it my own. I won’t. My stuff may be stored in here, but it’s not mine. My room is in Tehran.” She turned back around and glared at the large space before her as if it’d done her some great wrong.

Sona patted her daughter on the waist before releasing her. “I didn’t come up here to upset you more, but I feel I should warn you. The Inquisitor and the Consul are coming by in an hour to meet us. They want to discuss a few things with your father over dinner. I was told to tell you to please be on your absolute best behavior.”

“So you’re asking me to sit there and look pretty?”

Sona’s eyebrows quirked. “We need to support your father. He is the only one in the Clave that has any semblance of reason. They trust him, we need to help strengthen that trust if he is to help make sense of some of this nonsense. Do you understand?”

Cordelia hugged herself. “I hate them.”

“Hate them all you like,” said Sona. “You don’t even have to speak to them if you don’t want to, but you do need to be present. The Consul’s son will be there.”

“Augustus?” said Cordelia with distaste. “Can’t you tell them I’m ill or tired from our travels. Jet lag is still a thing even if you portal.”

Sona tapped her wrist where a watch should be. “Dinner is at seven. Dress respectably.”

Cordelia looked down at the black bike shorts she had under the oversized gray sweatshirt she’d thrown on that morning while she finished all her last-minute packing. By respectable, she knew her mother meant nice, pretty, clean. Look how they want you to look so we can attempt to impress Inquisitor Bridgestock and Consul Pounceby because even though we don’t agree with their decisions, we still have to abide by their laws.

It made her want to punch a hole in the wall or throw something out the window.

She pulled the strap for the scabbard holding Cortana, her beloved sword, over her neck and rested her blade against the wall beside the closet door, and walked across the room to sit on the edge of the mattress.

Never once in her life was she ever not proud to be a Shadowhunter. It was as much a part of her as the color of skin, her name, or the distinct tone of her voice. The angelic blood sang in her veins and powered her limbs to protect those who could not protect themselves against the darkness and evil that threatened it. Never once did she consider that darkness and evil could ever touch or harm her community; that it would never be found there. Now, she came to realize, it was not so far away.

How could she fight her government? She couldn’t, not without consequences, but how could she stay silent either about what she knew to be wrong and unjust.

Her whole existence felt like the inside of a snow globe after it was turned upside down and shaken. Now, she just had to wait for the dust to settle, and perhaps things would not look so different then.

———————

The Consul was the first to arrive.

Cordelia stood in the bathroom mirror smoothing out the dress she’d thrown in the bag she packed while they waited for the rest of their things to arrive from Tehran. The white of the soft fabric warmed her skin and brought out the flecks of copper in her red hair that she left down and curled at the ends. Her mother would scoff at the length of the hem, falling to the middle of her thighs. It wasn’t exactly what Cordelia would have chosen to wear to this dinner either, but she’d left her Fuck the Patriarchy t-shirt and ripped jeans in the box with all of her clothes in Tehran. It may be written in Persian, but the look on her parents’ face would have been worth it, and who knows, perhaps it could have been a conversation starter.

She was pulling on a pair of dark leather sandals when she heard the sound of voices fill the foray. Her mother’s warm, but fake laughter sent a pinch across Cordelia’s spine. She knew it wasn’t sincere, but she still would rather hear the sound of her mother kicking them out of her house rather than welcoming them in.

I am not being complicit, she told herself as she turned towards the bedroom door. I am infiltrating the enemy. I will find their weakness. I will attempt to understand them so I can use the knowledge later to destroy them… And I will spit in their water glasses and lick their bread rolls.

With a practiced smile, she marched towards the door when she felt the give and heard the groan from a floorboard beneath her foot. She looked down and carefully lifted her right foot and watched as the board rose back up.

Interesting. None of the other boards did that.

Carefully, she got down onto her knees and dug her nails into the crack around the board. The perimeters showed markings of being dug out before. She pried it up enough to get her fingers underneath and it popped up with ease. She slid it away and beneath was a white sheet of paper with a garden stone sitting on top of it and Cordelia’s name written on the front.

Cordelia looked up to make sure no one was coming. The voices could still be heard from the foray and dinner didn’t technically start for five more minutes.

She reached down into the hole and slid the paper out from underneath the rock.

Sitting back on her hip, she unfolded it and read:

50 Ernest St, Bethnal Green, London

The Old Clock Tower

February 3, at 10 P.M.

Cielu Rhonelade

Cielu Rhonelade. Cordelia smiled as she mentally rearranged the letters to read Lucie Herondale. It was her nom de plume for a time when they were kids and Lucie wanted to be like the author George Eliot and claim her work under a different name.

But it was Lucie, of that Cordelia was sure, and she wanted to meet with Cordelia tonight.

A/N:

This story can also be found on AO3 if you would prefer to read it there.

Likes, comments, and reblog are always appreciated!

Next update: Friday, 5/14

#the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #the last hours #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #james x cordelia #jordelia fanfiction #cassandra clare #modern au #alternative au #thomas lightwood #lucie herondale #christopher lightwood #alastair carstairs #will x tessa #jesse blackthorn #grace blackthorn

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