#i have no idea what this is but i’ve been thinking about proposals way too much the past few days so that’s that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spideyjimin · 1 month ago

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Bloodlines entwined: I | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.

— pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader

— genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut

— rating: 18+

— words: 7,213

— warnings: strong language, mention of death, mention of murder, mention of loneliness, mention of blood, several mentions of abortion, and crying

— author’s note: here it is the first chapter of this series! <3 i’m actually very excited about this entire universe, i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve been taking my time to write each part 🤗 the beginning is inspired by Jane the Virgin and the Flash as they are both my favorite shows ✨ i hope you’ll enjoy this part & don’t hesitate to let me know what you think 😊

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Chapter I: when worlds collide

SERIES MASTERLIST | next

Sitting in your car, you’ve been looking blinkingly at the windshield, hands trembling against the steering wheel. For ten whole minutes, you’ve been frozen like this as if moving would shatter the fragile sense of calm you’ve barely managed to hold together.

Your life is about to drastically change; you know it deep down.

“The deed is done,” you whisper to yourself.

You let out a shaky breath, and your reflection in the rearview mirror catches your eye. You look exhausted, your eyes wide and glistening.

For two years, this moment has been building. You have thoughtfully considered having a child on your own. At first, it was just a random thought that crossed your mind, a curiosity born on one of those quiet, lonely moments where life felt both too much and not enough. Then, you deeply thought about it. The idea rooted itself deep within you, anchoring into something raw and tender: a longing to create a family on your own terms.

After much research and consideration, you decided to go for it.

Many people couldn’t understand your choice, but honestly, you don’t give two shits about others’ opinions. What did matter to you was the support of close family and friends.

Felix, the man who raised you after your parents were stolen from you, proposed to accompany you to the fertility clinic, but you gently declined his offer. This was something you wanted to do by yourself. Well, you just came alone to be inseminated. Other than that, he has been by your side every step of the way.

He helped you to go through the countless donor profiles, and every document needed for this adventure of yours.

The process was a bit long and emotionally draining. The first steps were more like an evaluation, mostly for the clinic to understand your reasons and ensure you’ve deeply thought about all the aspects. Having a kid alone isn’t just about fulfilling your dreams but also about building a life for a child.

Once you’ve successfully completed those steps, you had to choose the donor. There were a lot of choices; it was like going grocery shopping. You were handed a catalog of potential donors with their medical histories and first names. It felt odd to be choosing the progenitor like this. After going through every profile, one of them stood out.

Following the donor selection, your cycles and hormone levels were tracked. When all was good, you’d get inseminated on your ovulation period, which technically is happening this week.

So, ten minutes ago, you walked out of the clinic after being artificially knocked up.

If your egg is fertilized, in nine months, you’ll welcome your very much desired baby. A tiny human who will call you mom. You already picked the names, one for a girl, one for a boy. You simply can’t wait to welcome a tiny human in your life. Hopefully, the life of your baby will be better than yours.

You lean your head against the steering wheel, closing your eyes as the ghosts of your past surface.

Twenty years ago, your life was turned upside down when a terrible murderer put an end to your parents’ lives. Nobody ever found him or her; it’s like the person completely vanished into the night. That person left behind a little girl with questions nobody could ever answer and scars nobody could understand.

Since you didn’t have any family left, you were raised by your father’s best friend, Felix. Over time, he became like a second father to you. Even though you were full of anger when he took you over, he stayed by your side and helped you navigate this sad reality; one where your parents weren’t part of anymore.

His daughter, Lexi is your age. You were already so close, and living under the same roof brought you even closer. She’s your super best friend, almost like a sister today. A smile grows on your face as you think of her. Your life would have been a nightmare without her.

Lexi was the first person to be aware of this desire to become a single mother. She even pushed you to do it as soon as you could, and she has encouraged you like nobody else. She also helped you select a donor; she even made fun of the names of some of them.

Your phone buzzes; the name and picture of Lexi appearing on the screen.

“Hi,” you say when you pick up.

“Soo,” she says. “How did it go?”

“Good, I guess?” you say with clear hesitation. “The doctor just inserted a thin catheter, looked at the screen, and said it was done,” you explain. “Now we just have to wait.”

Waiting is now the worst part, especially since you decided not to take any pregnancy test until the next appointment. Meaning, you have to wait two full weeks.

“Let’s hope the donor’s little swimmers are good ones,” she says.

While you always wanted to have a kid, Lexi never wanted one. You and her are total opposites but that’s what helped create such a strong bond between you. “Yeah, let’s hope for that,” you smile.

Two weeks later

A couple of days ago, you took a blood test, and now, you’re in the waiting room, patiently waiting for the doctor to call you up.

These past two weeks, you’ve been internally battling to take a pregnancy test. It’s been hard to fight the urge to discover beforehand if you’re expecting or not. On your way to the clinic, your heart was beating extremely fast with nervousness. Even the music playing in the car didn’t seem to calm you down.

Even though you’re extremely nervous, a part of you knows. You can’t explain it, but you feel it deep down. Two nights ago, you were lying in bed completely exhausted after an intense day at work. The rhythm of your heartbeat was rocking you to sleep. Amidst the thrum of your own heart, you swear you could hear a faint, smaller, and quicker rhythm.

You instantly opened your eyes, scanning the room. The sound wasn’t coming from outside. It felt like it was inside you. You stayed perfectly still, listening to that tiny sound. That night, you were rocked to sleep by that new rhythm.

The morning after, as you caught your reflection in the bathroom’s mirror, something felt off. Your brows furrowed as you noticed your own scent was different. It felt like it was mixed with somebody else’s scent, but it wasn’t as strong as yours or any other living human. It was extremely odd.

After a little while, the doctor says your name, and with shaky legs, you walk to her office. Your heart is beating at a very crazy pace, ready to burst at any moment. This is so stressful; it feels like time is moving so slowly.

“Hello yn,” the doctor smiles at you while you’re entering the room. “How have you been feeling?” you now take a seat.

“I’m good, thanks,” you smile back at her.

She sits down at her desk and takes a look at her computer.

“So, did you take any pregnancy test?” she asks.

“No, no,” you answer. “I wanted to keep the surprise for today.”

“I see,” she looks again at her screen before taping on her keyboard.

She seems to quickly read something before her smile widens. Your heart is going completely crazy. It really makes you nervous, and you try to mentally prepare yourself to receive the bad news as well. It’ll definitely break your heart but you’ll try again.

This entire process is quite expensive, but the payment can be spread out over time rather than made in one shot. With this first payment, you have the right to three attempts. If pregnancy isn’t achieved after those attempts, you’ll have to go through another round and pay for additional attempts.

The doctor mentioned that usually, it takes about three to six attempts to achieve a successful pregnancy. Hopefully, you’ll get pregnant within those first three tries. You’re not entirely sure you’ll be able to afford another round of insemination.

“Well, it looks like it only took you one try to conceive,” she informs you.

And right there, your heart bursts with joy. There’s indeed a little human being growing inside you. You’ll become a mother in nine months. You can’t believe it.

A little tear runs down your face as you hear the good news. It’s such a relief. You won't have to worry about coming back for another round.

“That’s good news,” you clean the tear on your cheek.

“It is indeed,” she says. “In four weeks more or less, we’ll plan an ultrasound to confirm the embryo’s implantation and check for a heartbeat,” she adds.

Well, you’ll still get worried about that because maybe until there, your baby will not survive. But you need to remain positive. No need to start stressing about it; you promised yourself that you’ll try to remain calm the entirety of the process and pregnancy so you’ll offer a great beginning of life to your baby.

“I’m very hopeful everything will go well because both you and the donor are in good health,” she says.

“Let’s hope for that,” you answer.

You then proceed to schedule the next appointment in four weeks. You can’t hide the immense smile on your face. This is the best news you got today. Nothing else will ever be possible to ruin this day.

When you leave the clinic, you instantly call Lexi.

“I AM PREGNANT!” you scream with excitement.

“Yeeeah,” she screams as well. “I’m going to be an aunty!” she adds.

“I’m so relieved that this first attempt was successful,” you admit.

Once you get inside your car, you touch your belly to caress it.

“That baby is so lucky to have you as a mother,” she says after. “And even more lucky to join our family.”

For sure, your family will extremely love this baby. It’s such a desired baby, and everybody has been so excited.

“They’ll be so loved,” you reply.

“There’s absolutely no doubt,” she says. “Dad will be so happy about this news; he’s been so excited to become a grandpa.”

Felix has expressed lately that he couldn’t wait to welcome a baby and become a granddad. This man has raised you for twenty years, and you consider him as a second father. There’s no doubt that your baby will see him as their grandfather even if, biologically speaking, he isn’t.

When you hang up, you stare into the void for a couple of minutes. In this moment, you wish your parents would be here. They would have been so happy to become grandparents, but they won’t be by your side for this new chapter of your life.

They are also the reason why you’re doing all of this. Since they passed, there’s been a tremendous emptiness inside you that even the love of Felix couldn’t fill in. This void stems mostly from the fact that you were left alone when they were killed. You’ve been feeling so lonely since then.

Throughout your life, you tried to fill it with relationships but they all failed. As far as you can remember, you wanted to follow the traditional path to build a family. However, it never worked out. Then, one day, you saw a brochure about single mothers, and you’ve been thinking about it since then.

You’ve seen motherhood as a role that will fill this emotional void you’ve been carrying for years. Plus, you’ve also seen it as a way to finally control your life. Twenty years ago, someone decided for you what your life would become. This wasn’t fair.

And you also want to give your baby the life you never got. You want to give them a loving family that won’t disappear the second the parents die. Outside of your parents, you didn’t have a family. Based on what Felix told you, your grandparents were against your parents' relationship so they moved into another city to live freely and build a family.

Life hasn’t been fair for you, but you want to make it fair for your baby.

Two weeks later

The clinic called you this morning to urgently come in the afternoon, only making you grow concerned during the day. You kept wondering what the reason for such urgency would be. Did they notice something when they did the blood test? Did they get the wrong blood test? Are you even really pregnant?

However, you’re a hundred percent sure you’re carrying a life inside you. You haven’t had the ‘normal’ early symptoms yet, but you can feel your baby inside you. The faint heartbeat can still be heard, and there’s still that subtle scent interwoven with yours.

For the past two weeks, you’ve repeatedly inhaled this new scent, almost to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. Most of the time, you wondered if it wasn’t something like blood, sweat, or the smell of your new shampoo. It was definitely an earthly one. One that only a human can possess.

Once inside the clinic, you’re instantly installed in the doctor’s room. Your heart is crazily beating inside your chest; you’re so nervous right now. Seconds later, a man joins you in the room.

At first glance, you’d think he is the CEO of a huge company. He’s fully dressed in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, his hands casually placed in his pants pockets. This man is extremely charismatic; something about him draws you in.

The man looks at you while frowning, his eyes moving from your eyes to your belly. By reflex, you cover your stomach with your hands. He’s making you uncomfortable with his intense stare.

He has a very strong bestial scent, it predominates his cologne. Everything about him is imposing, even the way his heart beats; it’s so calm while yours is completely erratic. The man’s eyes are clued on you.

The doctor arrives right after and closes the door behind her. Her face is quite serious; she even seems concerned.

“Miss y/l/n,” she takes a seat at her desk. “Mister Jeon,” she looks at the man behind you. “Please take a seat.”

The two of you sit down next to each other with apprehension. You can hear his heart beating a little faster, but he remains extremely calm on the outside.

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The doctor pauses, giving you time to absorb the gravity of the statement. Her tone is gentle, but at the same time professional.

The sterile, cold walls of the room seem to close in around you as the doctor’s words pierce through your thoughts.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” your breath is caught in your throat, your hands trembling. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

Your eyes look at the man sitting next to you. All you can see in his eyes is the same disbelief that reflects your own. So, this is your child’s father.

Many questions cross your mind, but they remain unspoken, lodged in your throat.

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

You desired nothing more than being alone in this adventure; you didn’t want a present father. That was the whole point of a donor. Now, you know the father of your child, and he’d probably like to be present.

For the past months, you went through a series of questions regarding the fact that you’ll raise your child alone. They asked you many times how you’d explain to your child that they don’t have a father. This now feels like a complete waste of time.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment’s costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

Those words seem so heavy and yet, they represent the reality of the choice you now have to face. A knot tightens in your stomach at the thought of undoing something you wished for so long. The baby is now growing inside of you, you’ve got used to falling asleep with their tiny heartbeat. The only thought of not having it anymore breaks your heart beyond comprehension.

Right now, everything—your carefully constructed plans, your hopes, the small life growing inside you—seems to be slipping through your fingers.

Mister Jeon is silent beside you, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He seems as stunned as you, but you can’t help but think that there’s something else there too. Something deeper and darker.

You ignore if he’s thinking the same thing as you, but you can feel it: the strange twist of fate pulling you both into an unknown world, one you both hadn’t planned for.

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

Time seems irrelevant now. There’s a choice you need to make; a choice you didn’t expect to face. You swallow hard, your heart racing inside your chest. Your hands caress your belly through your shirt while you only hear the baby’s fragile heartbeat.

This isn’t supposed to happen. This can’t be real.

Jungkook’s face went pale as the doctor’s words sank in.

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

Just like you, the room’s white walls feel suffocating, the air thick with a tension he can’t shake. A mistake. His mistake. He tried to avoid this situation. He was supposed to go through surrogacy to guarantee a child that would uphold his lineage. His werewolf lineage, pure and untouched by human blood.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” the doctor’s words hang up in the air like a death sentence. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

His eyes quickly look at you, and he notices how much you’re shaking. It seems like you’re in a more devasted state than he is.

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

Jungkook blinks, trying to absorb what is happening. A human child. Nonetheless, his child. Having children with humans isn’t just a personal choice; it’s a fundamental rule of the werewolf society. The very foundation of his power as the king depends on the purity of his bloodline. To break the rule is to risk everything.

He knows better than anyone what happens to the werewolf-human hybrid kids together with the parents. They are killed by the pack. Being a king doesn’t make him the exception to the rule. If this pregnancy goes to full term, not only will he be killed, but the baby and the lady sitting next to him will too.

You didn’t ask for any of this. You don’t deserve to die because of a mistake.

His gaze filled with frustration and panic moves toward you once more as his pulse quickens. He wanted control over the situation. He never intended to father a hybrid child. And now, not only is he involved in this pregnancy, but the child is going to carry his blood mixed with human genetics. God only knows what can happen to this kid, genetically speaking.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

‘This can’t be happening’, he thinks.

His eyes move back to the doctors, his hands clenched into fists. The thought of the entire werewolf community learning of this is unbearable. And what is his mother going to think of this?

She was the first person to support him in this surrogacy journey. She knew how important it was for him to have a child as soon as possible because he’d been struggling to find someone with whom he’d mate. Having an heir is the first thing a king should do to ensure the legacy.

Now, he’s about to have a child with a human. That’s not possible. This child won’t have a pure bloodline, this child can’t ever be an heir.

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

The idea of termination seems dreadful, but the possibility of a hybrid child heir seems even worse. His responsibility as king, and the traditions that have been in place for centuries don’t allow for such breach. To raise a kid with human blood would mean instant disgrace, not only for him but for his entire family. How could he even be respected after this?

His entire world is slipping through his fingers. His position as king is now in jeopardy. This baby will destabilize the entire werewolf community. Nobody will respect him and will only see him as weak. Weak for having a human child.

There’s no going back. His mind tries to find a solution to fix this, or how to undo this. The idea of raising a child with a human—no matter how much it is his responsibility—is unthinkable. He never desired this and hasn’t even considered it. He has been so focused on maintaining his bloodline that the idea of a mistake happening never crossed his mind.

Your presence beside him destabilizes him beyond comprehension. He can see the confusion in your eyes mixed with disbelief. You can’t comprehend the extension of this entire problem. You can’t even comprehend the danger of mixing bloodlines, because you aren’t a werewolf.

Jungkook stands in silence for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts. Terminating this pregnancy isn’t something he desires, but having a child with a human is simply impossible. His heart beats too crazily, and he can hear yours beating just as fast. His heart and duty are pulling him in two different directions.

Finally, his eyes meet yours. His voice is soft but it carries a heavy weight. “We need to decide. This affects both of us.”

After what felt like an eternity, you both leave the room completely shaken up by the news you just got. How could this be happening?

As you’re both walking in the clinic in the parking lot’s direction, none of you dares to speak. You’re a complete stranger to Jungkook. All he knows is that you’re a human carrying his child.

“I can’t have that child,” he finally breaks the silence.

His words cause you to stop.

“It’s too early for me to consider terminating this pregnancy,” you admit. “I need time.”

Jungkook understands your perspective. It’s not a decision you lightly take, especially if you’ve come to this clinic to have a child. It’d be completely absurd to abort after going through this entire process.

“Of course,” he says. “But I want you to know my point of view.”

You nod, understanding his perspective as well. This is such a horrible situation. Jungkook wanted to have an heir while you simply wanted to have a child on your own. On top of that, he doesn’t look like the donor you selected.

“So if I decide to keep it, would you be out?” you ask.

Jungkook considers your words. There’s a possibility that the baby could still exist, but he wouldn’t be part of their life. He’d still be losing because he wants a child, but at least this way, his position wouldn’t be jeopardized, and no one would get hurt or killed.

“It’s possible,” he honestly answers.

You nod once more. Even though he decides not to be part of his child’s life, he’d still know that he has a kid somewhere. He wouldn’t have any trouble finding you; he already knows your smell, and he has the means to find you.

“Okay,” you say.

Jungkook watches you take a pen and paper from your purse before writing something.

“This is my phone number,” you hand him the piece of paper. “In case you change your mind or take a decision.”

The man takes the piece of paper while you give him a small smile. You start walking away, his eyes following you until you disappear inside a car.

In this situation, he definitely would like to ask his mother for advice, but he can’t. He already knows the answer she’ll give him. ‘This baby can’t exist.’ And she’s right, but he can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy. It’s your body after all.

In the eventuality that you decide to proceed with the pregnancy, he guesses he’ll let you be a mother alone and pretend like this kid doesn’t exist.

You’ve spent the last two days crying in bed. The conversation with the doctor and this mysterious Mister Jeon has been playing over and over in your head. You can still picture everything so clearly; the white walls of the doctor’s room, the apologies from the doctor, and Mister Jeon’s piercing gaze.

‘There’s been a mistake,’ ‘There was a mix-up with the sample,’ the words still echo in your mind.

You’ve been trying to make sense of how such a monumental mistake has happened. But nothing seems to make sense. The clinic did this; the clinic took control over your decision. This chapter of your life was about you gaining control, but once more, someone decided for you. It’s been making you angry.

You’re furious at the clinic and their negligence. You trusted them with your project of building your own family. However, they decided otherwise.

But underneath that anger, there’s another fury; one directed to yourself. You were so focused on having a child on your own terms that you didn’t stop to consider the what-ifs. You didn’t stop to consider that something might go wrong. And now, you are here.

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours now, your mind trying to find a solution. Do you keep this baby? Do you terminate the pregnancy?

This choice feels impossible. It feels like no matter what your life will completely change.

But deep down, you somehow feel some kind of relief. Because when Mister Jeon—this intense and charismatic man—said there was a possibility he’d walk away, that he’d leave you to raise this child alone, you felt lighter.

His potential absence is appealing. It aligns with your original choice, to be a single mother. A choice where your child is yours, and yours alone. But then, there’s also a possibility where he stays, or that he comes back later. What would happen then?

You press your hands against your face while a guttural growl leaves your lips. This is so damn frustrating. This should be simple. Because now, you’re left wondering what you want. Do you want to walk away from this and stick to the original plan? Or do you want to embrace this chaos, and see where this might lead?

Your hands slide down to your stomach, caressing it while you hear again the tiny heartbeat. This sound comforts you which makes you close your eyes.

For now, you don’t have any answers to all your questions. You’re not even sure you’ll have them tomorrow. For now, you’ll let yourself breathe. You’ll let yourself feel. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the answers.

The sound of your phone ringing pushes you out of your own thoughts, informing you that you received a message. You sit on your bed before grabbing the phone on the nightstand. You received a message from an unknown number. By curiosity, you unlock your phone to read it. To your surprise, it’s the famous and mysterious Mister Jeon.

From unknown: hi miss y/l/n, this is jeon jungkook, the father of your child. i’d like to meet you to discuss the matter. would you be free tonight?

Your heart hammers inside your chest, ready to burst at any second. He contacted you sooner than expected. You were thinking that you wouldn’t hear anything from him for at least a week. You thought you’d have more time to make a decision before meeting him. Now, it seems you don’t, and that you’ll have a very interesting conversation with him tonight.

With shaky hands, you start typing your answer.

To unknown: hello mister jeon, we could meet tonight

When you press ‘send’, you stare at the conversation, waiting for an answer. Mister Jeon responds instantly to your message, proposing to meet in a town square. You accept the suggestion and quickly go to your clothes cupboard to pick up an outfit.

The man seems very impressive, and you want to be presentable. He’s after all the progenitor of the life growing inside you.

A couple of hours later, you take the road to the meeting point. Surprisingly, you’ve remained calm for the entire drive. Driving is actually the only thing able to calm your tormented soul. Whenever you go through something very intense, you just drive to clear your mind.

However, since this pregnancy thing, even driving hasn’t been able to help you out. You tried to drive yesterday, but it only made things worse. So it definitely surprises you that you’ve been able to clear your mind before meeting Mister Jeon.

When you arrive, he’s already there waiting for you. He’s not wearing a suit, quite the contrary. His outfit is only made of a grey sweater with a blue pair of jeans. His hair isn’t perfectly pushed back as it was two days ago. It feels like you’re meeting a completely different person.

When he sees you, he stands up. As he does so, you notice he holds a box in his right hand. It’s a small one, but it still intrigues you.

“Good evening, miss y/l/n,” he says.

“Good evening, mister Jeon,” you say back.

His presence is still very imposing, but the fact that he isn’t wearing a suit anymore changes it a bit. He seems more approachable than he was in the clinic.

“Please call me Jungkook,” he offers you a small smile.

It’s the first time you see him smiling, and it feels like a very warm one. Beneath it all and in the midst of the city noise, you can perceive his heartbeat. It’s quite rapid which makes you tilt your head. Is he nervous?

“You can call me yn as well,” you smile back at him.

“I’ve brought you a box with some pastries,” he hands you the box. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Your smile grows wider at his simple but heartwarming gesture. This wasn’t expected, but it lightens the mood. Jungkook seems to be a nice person which contrasts with the cold and unreadable person he seemed two days ago.

“Thanks,” you say while grabbing the little box. “You didn’t need to,” your eyes look up at him.

After that, you both sit down on the bench he was on before you arrived. By the way he rubs his hands on his tights, you can tell that he’s a bit nervous. You try not to overanalyze him, because you know your mind will go crazy, full of questions.

“What is happening is really crazy,” he admits with obvious nervousness. “I never imagined things would go this way,” you nod.

Jungkook looks everywhere, except at you. It seems like he isn’t brave enough to face you, almost like a teenager confessing his love.

“As I told you two days ago, I can’t have this child,” he finally speaks. “I really would love to, but I’d put the three of us in danger.”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. What does he mean by ‘putting you in danger’? Does he come from a crazy family? Is he part of the mafia? This is scaring the hell out of you.

“We didn’t know each other up until two days ago, and you don’t deserve to be put in danger because of a stupid mistake the clinic did,” he seems angry when he mentions the mistake. “But I can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy, it’s your body, and it was also your wish to have a child. I can’t take that away from you.”

It kind of surprises you how respectful he is. Any other man in his position could have forced or paid you to put an end to this pregnancy. It’s really admirable.

“In case you want to keep going with it, I just want you to know that I’ll step away, and I will never come back to reclaim a role I refused from the beginning.”

You wonder what the reasons behind his decision could be. This man desired to have a child but is now refusing to have one with you because of a mistake.

“To be honest with you, I don’t know what to do,” you admit.

His piercing eyes finally look at you. For a split second, you can swear that they were red. Red like blood. This destabilizes you, and you furrow your eyebrows. You’re not sure if you’re being delirious or if this is real.

“I wanted to become a mother, but not like this,” you continue, still destabilized by what you just saw. “So it leaves me wondering what I should do. But if you walk away, I’ll be more tempted to keep the baby because, in the end, it’ll go as I planned.”

In an unexplainable way, this man puts you at ease. It feels like you can confess how you truly feel about this situation without being judged by him. This man exudes serenity which draws you even more to him.

“I get that,” he says.

For a brief moment, you only look at him while your heart peacefully beats in your chest. His dark eyes stare right into your soul, and it feels like the world completely stopped. There’s just the two of you. But Jungkook breaks the contact, looking in another direction.

“If you decide to keep the child and need any financial help, I can give it to you,” he speaks.

This man definitely seems like a good guy, and you wonder even more why he’s walking away from this.

“I won’t,” you answer. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t have any means to take care of the baby.”

For sure you need financial stability to be a single mother, and you would have never embarked on this adventure without having it.

Jungkook runs his fingers through his fluffy hair, avoiding still your gaze. “Can I ask why you want to become a single mom?”

The question catches you off guard. You weren’t expecting this man—this stranger—to be interested in you.

“I didn’t have an easy life and I grew up without my parents,” you confess. “Motherhood was something I aspired to have in my life since I’m very young, and I’ve desired to give to my child everything I didn’t have. No matter if it was with someone or alone.”

Your eyes shift from Jungkook to the square full of people. It’s never easy to express out loud and to a complete stranger why you embarked on this adventure. Mentioning your parents is actually never easy; even after all this time.

Suddenly, you feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you in complete silence. For once in your life, people’s heartbeats and scents don’t suffocate you. You can hear and smell them, but it’s like it doesn’t matter.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve had those developed skills. You can hear stuff from afar, and you can strongly smell people’s natural body’s scent. Since it’s kind of ‘normal’ to you, you got used to it; but sometimes, and especially when you’re in the middle of heavy crowds, it suffocates you. It becomes simply too much.

This is something you never told anyone, too scared to be judged. Undoubtedly, people would say you’ve gone crazy due to the trauma of losing your parents. Not even Felix or Lexi knows about it. They just think you’re agoraphobic.

However, lately, you’ve been trying to go to some crowded place to overcome this suffocating feeling. You ignore why you’ve been doing it, but you’ve been doing it. It’s still too much, but today, next to this complete stranger, it doesn’t feel like it.

“I’m sorry you lost your parents,” he whispers.

You turn to look at him to offer him a little smile.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Can I also ask you why you’re doing this?” you dare to ask.

Jungkook nods before looking away once more. It definitely looks like it’s hard for him to hold your gaze.

“In my world,” he starts saying. “I have heavy responsibilities, and having a child is one of them. But I can’t have one with anybody. I’m very limited in who is the biological mother so that’s why I can’t have one with you.”

You almost feel offended by his words. In which kind of world can’t you be the mother of his child? It’s completely crazy!

“Oh,” you simply say.

“You could have been the surrogate…” you can hear some kind of chuckle. “But never the progenitor.”

“It’s seems like a tough world.”

His eyes look again at you; you can see that he seems to hesitate with the answer.

“It isn’t,” he finally says. “But it is with me.”

Obviously, he carefully chose his words.

“Well, I hope you’ll find the right mother for your child,” you offer him once more a little smile.

“Thanks,” he smiles back at you.

The two of you look back again at the people walking in the town square. They are walking around you, ignoring totally what you’re going through, what tough decision you have to make. They ignore everything about you, just as you ignore everything about them…

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he adds.

“It’s not your fault,” you answer. “It’s the clinic’s.”

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the people walking in front of you. His heart is racing and piercing through your ears. He’s even more nervous than he was before, and it concerns you a bit. But you don’t say anything, too afraid to scare him off if you reveal you can hear his heartbeat.

“Yn…” he starts. “There’s something you need to know,” his voice is deep and low at the same time. It’s so low that it almost drowns out by the distant chatter of people passing by.

You turn to look at him, your brow furrowing. “Okay,” you whisper.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, his jaw tightening before he exhales. His eyes don’t meet yours immediately, but when he does, there’s an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

“When I said my world is different,” he swallows with difficulty. “I don’t mean it in a metaphorical sense. My world, my reality is not the same as yours.”

You frown even more, confusion plastered all over your face. You’re definitely incredibly confused. How could his world be different than yours? You live on the same planet, and breathe the same air. How could it be not the same?

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook gets closer, his voice dropping even lower, barely audible. However, you still hear it perfectly.

“I am not entirely human, yn.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You stare at him while waiting for him to elaborate. However, Jungkook just stares at you, waiting for your reaction.

“What do you mean by ‘not entirely human’?” you tilt your head.

For a couple of seconds, he doesn’t speak, almost as if he’s scared to reveal his true nature to you.

“I’m a werewolf.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. It leaves you wondering if this man is of sound mind. Right now, you’re slightly concerned about his mental health, and the future of your child, if you keep them.

Your first reaction is to laugh, dismissing his words as if it is some kind of twisted joke. But the look on his face tells you that he’s deadly serious. This isn’t a joke.

“A werewolf?” you repeat to make sure you hear it well.

Jungkook nods. He looks tense and he maintains his deep glance on you.

“It’s why I can’t have this child,” he starts to explain. “In my world, bloodlines matter. Werewolf bloodlines are sacred, and the continuation of my lineage isn’t just about having a child. It’s about having the right child with the right kind of mother.”

The weight of his words crashes over you like a tidal wave. You stand up, your hands running through your hair. Your mind is spinning, and your pulse thunders in your ears. This is something you definitely weren’t expecting to hear today.

Werewolves? You’re carrying the child of a werewolf?

This sounds like it comes straight from a fantasy movie.

“This doesn’t feel real,” you whisper to yourself but Jungkook hears it.

“I didn’t want you to be dragged into this world, but you deserve the truth.”

You keep your back turned to him while you cross your arms against your chest.

“This is something you need to consider if you decide to keep the baby.”

At his words, you freeze. Instinctively, your hands down move to your stomach. Jungkook’s eyes follow your hands.

“Is this…” your voice trembles. “Is this a viable child?”

If you want to keep going with this pregnancy, you need to know if this baby can survive.

“There wouldn’t be any reason why this child wouldn’t survive because of mixed blood,” he stands up and gets close to you. “But as they grow up, they’ll develop werewolf abilities. And, one day, they’ll probably turn into one. It’s pretty unpredictable, though. There’s never been a human-werewolf hybrid before.”

Damn, this is leaving you speechless. How can this be real? Werewolves are supposed to exist in movies, not in real life.

“This is insane,” you rub your hands on your face. “This can’t be real.”

Jungkook steps closer. His presence is grounding but nonetheless overwhelming.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you demand, your voice filled with panic.

Before you can blink, he gets even closer to you. He’s in front of you in an instant, his hand gently grabbing yours. Your eyes look down at his hand as you notice it changing. His fingers elongate, his nails sharpen into claws, and the texture of his skin turns into something more beastly. Slowly, your eyes look up, and what you see completely freezes your body. His eyes glow a deep, predatory red, and there’s something undeniably wolfish about them.

You take a step back while setting your hand free. As you do so, Jungkook shifts back, his hand returns to its normal form, and his eyes fade back to a human form. The transformation is so quick that it almost feels like you imagined it.

“So what happens now?” you ask.

Jungkook’s gaze softens at your words.

“That depends on you, yn.”

Please note that the taglist is closed

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bloodlines entwined #bloodlines entwined: chapter 1 #spideyjimin

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sweetfushi · 8 months ago

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CONFESSING TO THEM

fluff | tengen uzui, kyojuro rengoku, sanemi shinazugawa x reader, reader nearly dies, tengen has three wives and you're tryna become his fourth | word count. 1.4k

TENGEN UZUI.

You know he’s married, thrice too. But sitting next to Tengen and watching him observe the Koi in the pond, a subtle smile on his face, warms your chest. You don’t realise that you’d started gazing at him longingly until he catches you, turning to you with a big grin. The beads of his headpiece rattled in the wind alongside your flowing hair.

“Tengen,” you start, voice meek and apprehensive, “I know you’re… married, but um, I don’t think I can continue our friendship if I don’t tell you.” At this point, your voice trails off into a whisper he has to lean in to hear. You almost outwardly giggle at the close proximity.

“You like me, huh?”

“What? Did you– have you known all along?” You huff and grab a nearby pebble to throw at him, only for it to bounce off his bicep in the midst of his snickers.

“I’d feel bad for you if you had tried to be subtle about it,” Tengen teases, leaning in closer until your faces are centimetres apart. When he sees your flushed expression, he shakes his head and rests his right cheek on his fist. “I can’t blame ya for failing though, it was hard for me too.”

You sit upright. “Wait, what?”

“Y’re pretty ditzy today, eh?”

You’re tempted to slash the charming smirk off his face. For the first time since the conversation started, you lock eyes with him (albeit having to almost painfully crane your neck to do so). From the way he maintains your gaze and lets you witness the boyish glint in his eyes, you’re convinced he isn’t lying to you with what he’s implying.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while now,” he admits, stretching his arms. “So I’m glad you’re not threatened by the idea.”

You purse your lips. “How are you going to deal with four wives?”

Tengen glances at you from the corner of his eye, grinning. “You mean it’s harder than handling three? My wives are my partners, not liabilities. You’d be no different.”

You lower your head to hide your impending smile, though he catches your expression even when you don’t think he does. If anything, he’s eager to witness more of your excitement. He finds it adorable that you can barely look him in the eye, even when he gets on one knee in front of you. He’s not proposing - your conversation already acted as one - instead, he wants to see your face. Tengen wants to see what he’s doing to you.

“Ring or necklace?” He asks.

You contemplate it before telling him your choice.

“Consider it done.”

KYOJURO RENGOKU.

“You must eat,” Rengoku tells you in that booming voice of his. He’s already scoffing down two of the bentos that had been provided to him by the cooks, but you had barely touched your food. You were starving, but your nerves overshadowed your hunger.

“I will,” you nod.

A minute goes by and all that is heard is Rengoku’s small comments on the food; tasty, yummy, delicious, incredible. Whenever he stares at you, you nod and smile along with him, but you notice his smile drop slightly further every time he does look at you.

“Is something the matter?” He chimes in, disturbing your racing thoughts. At this point, he’s stopped eating and is just waiting for you to answer, but for the past ten minutes you had been trying to plot how to go about telling him. I’ll never end up telling him at this point, you realise. So, you sip some of your water, place it back down on the coaster and lift your head to face him directly.

“I like you, Rengoku.”

For a moment, it’s silent. “And I don’t want that to make what we have weird, I even considered not telling you because I don’t wanna lose you, but if I don’t tell you it feels like I’m lying to you–”

“You stress too much,” he smiles, watching your throat bob as you swallow thickly. The flame hashira can sense your impending tears and feels oddly honoured that he had the ability to make them happy or sad ones.

Now that you reflect on what you’ve just done, you perhaps should have waited until the two of you - or he at least - had finished eating. Feelings like this are hard to stomach, especially from one hashira to another. While you’re contemplating your confession, you feel his gaze burn into you and, somehow, you find the strength within yourself to not avoid it.

“I’m sorry, I’ll pay for our food as compensation–”

“Compensation for what?” He laughs, your heart aching at the sight of such a brightly lit expression. “If anything, I need to eat more from how overjoyed I am.”

You pause. “Overjoyed?”

“That might be an understatement, but I can’t find the words at the moment,” he admits, that smile still stuck on his face. What you had yet to realise throughout these two years was that Rengoku had admired you the most out of everyone he had met. Yes, Tengen was flashy and Tokito was level-headed, but out of all the esteemed hashira, his flame had been ignited the most around you. Only now could he let it burn as it wished.

“I like you too, very much.”

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA.

“Stop looking like that,” he taps the blunt side of his katana on your arm, knocking you out of your daze - the daze you had been in the entirety of this dispatch. It wasn’t anything major, a few rowdy demons that have been unsettling the village near to the woods you were currently in, but Sanemi had insisted that he accompany you for it.

“Sorry,” you mumble, sheathing your own katana after having wiped it clean of blood.

Sanemi eyes you for a moment. He knows you’re mature enough to handle yourself and manage your emotions, though he’s come to realise that it doesn’t mean you should be left to do so. So, the scarred hashira doesn’t prod further. Not until you fail to register the unexpected demon launching at you from behind, teeth bared and eyes maniacal.

“You’re askin’ to be killed, damn it!” He finally yells, his brows furrowed from the sheer adrenaline and anxiety he just endured. Sanemi never truly yells at you unless he’s unmistakably upset, so his raised voice makes your lips part and your eyes widen with a late registry of what risk you had induced.

“You wanna be in your feelings? Fine, just don’t do it when you’re out to work! At this rate, we’ll need backup just to make sure your reckless ass is bein’ protected with those villagers!” He’s breathing heavily at this point, his face in yours as he heaves and trembles.

Sanemi is still unsettled even when the two of you finally return to base, washing up and filling your stomachs during the last few hours before you’d call it a day. When you wander out into the pond gardens, your arms crossed over your chest to shield yourself from the night’s breeze, you almost turn the other direction when you spot Sanemi squatting at the edge of one of the smaller pools of water. He’s skipping rocks, watching them dance across the water, or occasionally fail to do so and fall into the pond or onto a lilypad instead.

“Don’t try and avoid me now,” he sighs guiltily, observing his reflection in the water momentarily before rising to his feet and turning to face you. “I shouldn’t…” he scratches the back of his neck. He’s not used to apologising for something he usually does so casually. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he confesses.

“No, I’m glad you did,” you admit, licking your lips. “I like you too much for you to act like you don’t care about me. You’ve noticed, surely.”

Sanemi isn’t sure he has noticed. That thought alone made him kiss his teeth - had he been so distracted by his own feelings to notice yours? The question raided his mind for a few moments while you, unbeknownst to him, watched as his lips pursed and his cheeks flushed a light pink.

Was he seriously blushing? This is so uncharacteristic of him, you think, a smile finally gracing your lips for the first time that day. For a moment, you’re more invested in him blushing than you are in the acknowledgement that he reciprocates your feelings.

He walks over to you, the gravel crunching beneath his shoes. He doesn’t stop until his chest almost touches yours and his face is so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I’m g’nna kick your ass for today,” he scoffs. “After I take you out…” he almost looks angry at his own embarrassment.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

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someonegoood · 27 days ago

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THE CORPORATE EQUATION chapter 1 ✫ jeon jungkook

after Jeon resigned as CEO, meeting his son —the new CEO— was not a good experience. Despite the tension, you notice hints of vulnerability beneath his moody exterior.

CONTAINS: corporate!au, ceo!jk, headofhr!reader, grumpy x sunshine, slow burn, accidental vulnerability, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable jk, bickering turned bonding, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: this will be a mini series. thanks so much for reading!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

my main masterlist! ❀ the corporate equation masterlist!

chapter one: the new CEO

Life has a strange way of changing in the blink of an eye. One moment, you’re comfortable in the routine of your daily life, and the next, everything shifts—like the wind knocking over an entire stack of carefully arranged folders. For you, this particular change had come faster than expected. Jeon, the former CEO, had resigned abruptly, leaving the company in turmoil. There was little time to adjust, and even less time to process what was happening.

Jeon had been a constant at the helm for years. His presence had shaped the company's foundation, and you had respected him for his sharp, calculated leadership. He had guided the company with precision and there was always an understanding that he could be trusted to keep the ship steady. But now, his son, Jeon Jungkook, was stepping into his shoes. You knew little about him, except for the occasional gossip that had floated through the company—rumours that painted him as cold, unapproachable and... gorgeous.

Today was the day. You went through your morning routine on autopilot. Coffee brewed in the corner as you brushed your hair, choosing practicality over flair. A pencil skirt, a pastel blouse, and your trusty blazer—a combination that felt like armour against the unpredictability of corporate life. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door.

At this time of the morning, the bus stop was alive with the quiet energy of early morning commuters. A mix of sleepiness and determination hung in the air as people shuffled about with their eyes fixed on their phones or the horizon. You settled into your usual seat by the window, gazing at the familiar cityscape rushing by. Buildings stacked against one another and the occasional cyclist weaving through traffic—it all felt comfortingly ordinary.

By the time you reached the office, the hum of whispered speculation filled the air. As you walked through the halls, exchanging polite smiles with colleagues, you couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed to carry a certain tension in their movements.

Soojin appeared at your side. Her usual cheery demeanour was like a ray of sunshine cutting through the tense atmosphere. She was holding a steaming cup of tea, her neatly styled bob bouncing slightly as she walked. She started working at the same time you entered the company, therefore you've become really good friends.

“Good morning!” she chirped, setting her cup down on the counter. She leaned against it, her bright eyes scanning your stack of papers. “Prepared for our big meeting with the new boss?”

“Morning, Soojin,” you replied, offering her a small smile. “Yeah, just making sure I have everything in order. First impressions matter, right?”

“Absolutely,” she said, nodding emphatically. “But don’t stress too much. From what I’ve heard, Jeon Jungkook isn’t exactly the chatty type. Rumour has it he’s more about the Finances Department than the HR one.”

You gave a small laugh, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’ve heard that too. But, you know, I’m still hoping he’ll be open to ideas. We'll present the proposal for improving employee morale that I think could really make a difference.”

Soojin raised an eyebrow, her expression somewhere between impressed and skeptical. “Employee morale? The one Dohyun and you made up? Bold move. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great. But with all the talk about how cold he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he shuts it down...”

“Maybe,” you admitted, straightening your papers and tucking them into your folder. “But I have to try, right? If we don’t focus on the people here, everything else will eventually fall apart.”

Soojin tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “That’s what I like about you. Always seeing the bright side, even when everyone else is freaking out. Just… don’t let him discourage you, okay? From what I hear, he can be a bit intimidating.”

You chuckled, though you couldn’t completely mask the nervous flutter in your stomach. “Honestly, how bad can he be? He’s human too, right?”

Soojin shrugged, her expression playful but knowing. “Sure, he’s human. But some humans are more like icebergs—most of them are hidden, and what you can see is cold and sharp.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Soojin said with a grin, taking her cup of tea and stepping aside as Dohyun, another member form the HR team approached, nodding a greeting to both of you. The three of you started to walk towards the conference room. “Anyway, you’ve got this. Just be yourself. If anyone can charm an iceberg, it’s you.”

Her words were meant to be encouraging, but as you adjusted your blazer, you couldn’t shake the growing knot of anxiety in your stomach. If Jeon Jungkook really was as cold and impenetrable as the rumours suggested, this meeting was going to be anything but easy.

The long, polished table gleamed under the overhead lights, the leather chairs arranged neatly around it. You set your notebook and pen in front of you, taking a moment to mentally prepare for the meeting ahead. The other members of the HR team began to trickle in—Soojin with her ever-present cheerful energy, Dohyun looking focused as always, Joonho balancing his coffee precariously in one hand, and Minji projecting her usual calm authority.

The room was alive with small talk until the atmosphere shifted. A hush fell over the space as the door opened, and in walked Jeon Jungkook.

Your first thought was how young he looked, though the sharp lines of his suit and the intensity in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t someone to be underestimated. He exuded confidence, the kind that came with knowing you didn’t need to say much to command a room. His gaze swept over the table, assessing each face with a precision that made your heart quicken. When his eyes landed on you, they lingered for a fraction of a second longer than expected, and the weight of his attention was almost tangible.

He was handsome.

He took his place at the head of the table without so much as a greeting. His assistant, Hajun, followed closely behind, setting a sleek portfolio in front of him.

"Let’s get started," Jungkook said, his voice low and firm, cutting through the silence like a blade.

You straightened in your seat, your pen poised to take notes. The meeting began, and it was immediately clear that Jungkook operated differently from his father. He listened, but his responses were curt, his tone leaving little room for argument. When your turn came to speak, you offered your carefully prepared suggestion for improving workplace morale—an idea you were confident would resonate with his father, the former CEO.

“Good morning, everyone,” you began, glancing around the table before focusing on Jungkook. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you had to resist the urge to look away. “I’d like to propose an initiative to improve employee morale and engagement. We’ve seen a lot of changes recently, and I believe it’s crucial to invest in the well-being of our team during this transitional period.”

But Jungkook’s expression didn’t shift.

After a few seconds, he decided to say something. “That’s too idealistic,” he said flatly. His voice was calm, but the dismissal stung all the same. Every team member looked astonished, “We don’t have the resources to entertain abstract ideas right now. We need to focus on tangible results, not wishful positive thinking.”

The room went silent, all eyes shifting between you and him. A wave of heat rose to your face, but you refused to let it deter you. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and replied.

“I understand your concerns, Mr. Jeon,” you said, keeping your voice steady. “But I respectfully disagree. Employee morale isn’t an abstract idea; it’s a measurable factor that directly impacts productivity and retention. If we don’t address the root causes of disengagement now, we’ll face bigger problems down the line—higher turnover, lower performance, and potentially a damaged reputation.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your rebuttal. His pen paused mid-tap, and he leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze narrowing as he studied you. For a moment, the room was still, the air thick with anticipation. Jungkook didn’t speak immediately, his expression unreadable as his gaze lingered on you.

Finally, he nodded, though it was more an acknowledgment of your persistence than an agreement. “Noted,” he said simply before shifting his attention to the next person on the agenda.

As you sat back down, your heart was racing, but you kept your composure. Soojin shot you a quick, encouraging smile from across the table, and you gave her a subtle nod in return. Jungkook’s dismissal still stung, but you couldn’t help feeling a small sense of victory. You had stood your ground, and even if he hadn’t agreed, you knew you had planted a seed.

Whether he realized it or not, Jeon Jungkook was going to hear you out—eventually.

Despite his half-rejection, you couldn’t help but notice the long hours Jungkook kept. He stayed in his office long after everyone else had left, his office door always ajar, the flicker of his desk lamp visible through the cracks. Curiosity gnawed at you, as you were heading home yourself, you decided to stop by and check in on him. Your offices were facing each other, therefore you could see everything he was doing.

You knocked lightly on the doorframe, unsure of what kind of reception you would get.

"Mr. Jeon?" you began, your voice tentative. "I noticed you’re still here. Is everything okay?"

Jungkook glanced up at you, his expression unreadable. His eyes were sharp, calculating as they locked onto yours. "I don’t need a babysitter," he muttered before quickly returning to the papers in front of him. There was no warmth in his tone, no indication that he appreciated the concern. But there was something else—something beneath his cold exterior—that you couldn’t quite place. A flicker of frustration, of exhaustion, maybe. It was there, but only for a split second.

You had expected him to shut the door in your face, but instead, he let you stand there for a few seconds longer before the silence stretched uncomfortably between you.

"I just thought… maybe you could use a break. It’s important to recharge, too," you said, trying once more, hoping to break through that thick wall he had built around himself.

He didn’t respond, just stared at you as though trying to decide whether or not your presence was a disruption. When he spoke, his voice was lower, edged with something you hadn’t heard before—a mixture of stress and frustration.

"I don’t have the luxury of downtime," he muttered, his gaze turning back to the papers in front of him, his fingers tapping against the desk in a rapid rhythm. "My father was right to step down when he did. This place it’s too much to handle..."

You didn’t know if you were meant to hear this. Jungkook’s voice cracked just slightly as he spoke, a rare moment of vulnerability that cut through his otherwise unyielding exterior. But before you could respond, he snapped, his tone returning to its familiar sharpness.

"Just go. I’ll manage," he said, his gaze hardening once more as he gestured toward the door.

As you left, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Jungkook was difficult, a person wrapped in layers of pride and frustration, but there was something about that brief moment of honesty—something raw—that made you wonder if there was more to him than the impenetrable CEO persona he projected.

You didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was clear: this man, this new CEO, was not the cold-hearted figure he appeared to be on the surface. And perhaps, in time, you could find a way to break through that wall he had so carefully constructed around himself.

The HR office buzzed with an unusual energy, a rare break from the grind. Joonho’s birthday had turned the space into a small celebration, complete with an assortment of pastries from the bakery down the street. Laughter echoed as everyone gathered around, sipping coffee and chatting.

“Okay, okay!” Minji said, clapping her hands for attention. “We have an important task for you, sunshine.” Her tone was teasing, but her expression was determined as her gaze landed squarely on you.

You raised an eyebrow, your mouth still full of a bite of croissant. “Me? What’s this ‘important task’?”

Dohyun chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “You’ve got to invite Mr. Jeon to join us.”

You blinked, startled. “Jeon Jungkook? The CEO? Are you serious?”

Joonho nodded vigorously, his cheeks slightly pink from the attention everyone was showering on him. “Come on! It’s my birthday, and maybe you can get him to crack a smile. Plus,” he added with a sly grin, “you’re the only one brave enough to talk back to him.”

Minji, ever the voice of reason, stepped in with a gentle smile. “It’s worth a try. Even if he says no, it’ll show that we’re trying to include him. And who knows? He might surprise us.”

You sighed, setting your half-eaten pastry on the edge of your desk. “Fine, I’ll do it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if he declines.” The team erupted into cheers and laughter as you smoothed down your blouse, squared your shoulders, and made your way toward his office.

The door to Mr. Jeaon's office was slightly ajar, but you hesitated before knocking. A voice from inside stopped you—a woman’s voice, clear and firm. You hesitated outside his office door, adjusting your grip on the folder in your hands, but before you could knock, a low, feminine laugh drifted through the gap.

"Come on, Jungkook," the woman purred, her tone smooth and teasing. "You can’t keep shutting the world out. At some point, even you need a little... release."

Your breath caught, and your fingers froze just above the door. The casual intimacy of her words, paired with the warmth in her voice, made your face heat.

Jungkook’s reply was quieter but firm. “This isn’t the time for distractions. You know that better than anyone.”

“Oh, please,” she shot back, amusement dancing in her voice. “You’ve been coiled so tight since taking this job, I’m surprised you haven’t snapped. What’s the harm in loosening up a little? Just for tonight? As we used to...”

The suggestion hung in the air, heavy and charged. You felt your heart hammer in your chest. Should you turn back? But the folder in your hands reminded you of why you were here—no matter how awkward it might be.

Gathering your courage, you knocked lightly, hoping the sound would cut through whatever tension had been brewing inside.

The voices went silent.

“Come in,” Jungkook called, his tone now sharp and businesslike.

You pushed the door open cautiously. Jungkook stood behind his desk, phone in hand, his expression unreadable. His tie was slightly askew, and there was a faint flush at the base of his neck. The woman’s voice was gone, though the faint click of a phone being disconnected told you she was still on the other end of the call just moments ago.

He met your eyes, and for a split second, you thought you saw something flicker there—annoyance? Embarrassment? It was gone before you could decipher it.

“Miss,” he said, his voice cool. “What is it?”

You cleared your throat, trying to push past the awkwardness. “I just came to invite you to join the HR team. We’re celebrating Joonho’s birthday, and we thought it would be nice to include you.”

Jungkook raised a brow, the tension in his jaw softening slightly. “I’m busy,” he replied, gesturing to the neatly organized stack of documents on his desk. “And I don’t need any of that.”

His words were dismissive, but there was a faint edge to his tone like he was still distracted by the previous conversation.

“I see,” you said, masking your confusion with a polite smile. “Well, the invitation’s there if you change your mind. Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but wonder about the woman on the phone—and the look on Jungkook’s face when he thought no one was watching. Was he dating someone? Seeing someone? Or just a fling...? You suddenly stop in your tracks, You shouldn't be thinking about our boss's private life.

Later that evening, as the office grew quiet and most of your colleagues had left, you found yourself lingering in the HR office as every other day. The leftover pastries from Joonho’s birthday were spread across the table, and your gaze fell on the last remaining matcha cream puff, Joonho’s favourite and, coincidentally, the one you had secretly saved for Jungkook.

You still couldn’t shake the tension from earlier—the clipped way he’d dismissed your invitation and the strange conversation you had overheard. The woman’s sultry tone and Jungkook’s responses echoed faintly in your mind, leaving you with more questions than answers. But one thing was clear: whatever weight Jungkook carried on his shoulders, it was heavy.

You picked up the pastry and carefully placed it in a small box, folding the lid neatly. Grabbing a purple sticky note, you scribbled a simple message:

"Eat it, please! We would have loved to have you today – Miss Y/N"

It wasn’t much, but it felt like the right thing to do—a small gesture to remind him that someone in this office cared, even if he tried to push everyone away.

With the box in hand, you made your way to his office. The lights were still on, but the room was empty, his jacket slung neatly over the back of his chair. You stepped inside hesitantly, placing the box squarely in the centre of his desk. The sticky note caught the glow of his desk lamp, and you smiled faintly at the absurdity of it all.

Would he eat it? Would he crumple up the note and toss it in the trash? You had no idea.

You turned off the light in his office as you left, leaving the pastry and the quiet note behind. As the elevator doors closed and you descended to the lobby, you couldn’t help but wonder if this tiny act of kindness might crack the icy façade Jungkook seemed determined to maintain.

If nothing else, you’d tried—and that was enough for now.

The quiet hum of the office after hours was a rare solace for Jungkook. He leaned back in his chair, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he replayed Yuna’s voice in his head.

“Jungkook,” she had said, her tone dripping with something he couldn’t quite place—mockery, concern, or maybe a blend of both. “You can’t keep running yourself into the ground. You’ve always had this... obsession with proving yourself. It’s exhausting just to watch, honestly.”

Her words cut deeper than he wanted to admit. Yuna had always known how to push his buttons, her insight into his insecurities as sharp as ever. “You’ve been coiled so tight since taking this job, I’m surprised you haven’t snapped. What’s the harm in loosening up a little? Just for tonight? As we used to...”

He’d ended the call quickly, his jaw tight as he shoved the phone into his pocket. He hated that she still had that effect on him, that she could twist his emotions with a single conversation.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the weight of her words as he pushed open the door to his office. He froze mid-step, his gaze landing on the small box sitting on his desk. The office was dim, lit only by the city lights filtering through the large windows, but the glow of his desk lamp illuminated the neat handwriting on a sticky note:

"Eat it, please! We would have loved to have you today – Miss Y/N"

For a moment, Jungkook just stood there, staring at the note. His brow furrowed as he approached the desk, setting down the files he’d been carrying. The box was small and unassuming, but the gesture felt oddly personal—out of place in the structured world he inhabited.

He peeled the note off the box and read it again, his lips pressing into a thin line.

You.

He thought back to earlier that day, to the way you had stood in his office, your invitation soft but genuine. He’d brushed you off, too preoccupied with Yuna’s voice still echoing in his mind to give you the consideration it deserved. And yet, here you were—persisting in your quiet, unassuming way.

Curiosity got the better of him. Jungkook opened the box to reveal a matcha cream puff, the delicate pastry perfectly intact. He hesitated, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts.

Why would she do this? What was she expecting in return?

But as he sat down and leaned back in his chair, the sharp ache in his chest from Yuna’s words began to dull. He picked up the cream puff, taking a small bite. The sweetness melted on his tongue, a stark contrast to the bitterness of these past days.

Jungkook glanced at the sticky note again, the corner of his mouth twitching as if it might curve into a smile—but it didn’t quite get there.

“Eat it, please,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he let the tension in his shoulders ease. The pastry wasn’t just a dessert—it was a reminder that not everyone wanted something from him. As he finished the cream puff, Jungkook placed the note back on his desk, staring at it longer than he intended.

“Miss Y/N,” he said softly, her name a strange comfort in the quiet of his office.

He didn’t know what to make of you yet, but one thing was certain—you were different, and that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

previous / next

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wstviewvidal · 1 month ago

Text

prerequisites- w. maximoff

summary: where worlds collide

pairing: rich!wanda x r

a/n: #needthat

next part

minors do not interact

i know you told me not to, but you deserve it. i left something on your porch for this weekend

you open up the text from wanda and can’t help but feel a smile creep onto your face. you two have been texting and calling as much as your schedules allow since valerie’s recital last month.

you two have only had the opportunity to meet up three times since then— each time being for a quick lunch during the work day. the company event that wanda invited you to was on saturday and you had told wanda you were stressing out over what you were going to wear.

wanda, being the sweet woman that she is, told you not to worry about lifting a finger. when she told you this, you couldn’t help but feel somewhat worried— not sure what she meant by that. however, knowing the fact that wanda has yet to make you feel uncomfortable is what brought you the slightest bit of peace.

you get home less than an hour later to a pink rectangular box with a bow on it sitting on your front porch. a small laugh bubbles up and you shake your head slightly in disbelief. you quickly move to unlock the door and open the box.

the first thing you notice is intricate beading and lace as you pull out a black midi length dress from the box. you gape at it for a moment, your heart beating quicker at the thought of her putting thought into getting you this dress.

your phone rings, interrupting your moment. you dig it out of your bag and answer without even looking at the caller ID.

“hi,” wanda says, her voice warm, and you can practically hear her smile through the phone, “did you get my gift?”

you let out a soft laugh and tell her you did, “wanda, you know that you don’t have to buy me these things, right? it looks way too expensive and i hate that i made you spend your money on it,” you pout softly at the idea of wanda going out of her way to even think about spending money on you.

wanda rolls her eyes and twirls a pen in her hand as she sits behind her desk, “nonsense. you didn’t make me do a single thing. you were telling me you were stressing and what kind of a friend would i be if i didn’t at least try to help you out?” a slight grimace covers her face as she calls herself your friend.

truth is, wanda thinks she’s could fall for you. she wouldn’t admit it aloud, but she finds herself thinking about you often. the way you smile when you talk about your niece, the passion and love you have for your career, the way you make her laugh— everything

“still, i can’t accept this gift. you know i don’t like you spending money on me,” you whine softly as you trace the detailing on the dress, “you’ve paid for all the lunches we’ve been on— you never even let me finish offering to pay before you give the waiter your card!”

wanda can hear the whine in your voice and rolls her eyes with a dramatic sigh, “so? i want to pay for you. keep your money so you can spoil your niece, or i’ll spoil her myself.”

you sigh into the phone as she says this— you know she’ll stick to her word about spoiling valerie, “you and that girl love to conspire against me and i hate it. fine, but next time we go out it’s going to be on me.”

you try your best to sound confident and firm, but you know wanda is on the other side of the call trying to hide her snicker.

“okay, whatever you say goes,” you can practically see her teasing smile through the phone as she replies and you can’t stop the feeling of butterflies in your stomach as you listen.

the two of you stay on the call for an hour later, even while wanda is working on her tasks for her company. she goes on to tell you all about how she has to review funding proposals and finalize budget adjustments for a new program she hopes to implement in another school.

you listen to her talk as you prepare your dinner, chiming in when necessary.

“sorry, i’ve been talking at you,” wanda cuts herself off and cringes when she realizes you haven’t said much, “what are you doing?”

wanda tries her best to smooth over and shift the topic back to you. “hush, i love when you tell me about your job. besides, it’s keeping me entertained while i’m making my dinner.”

wanda’s cheeks flush a shade of pink when you tell her that she’s not being bothersome, that you enjoy her company. she goes to respond but is suddenly cut off by a question.

“if i save you a plate, will you come have dinner with me when you get off?”

your body felt cold as soon as you asked that question, almost afraid that wanda would reject the offer. on the other side of the call, wanda was practically jumping for joy at the idea of having dinner with you. a wide grin covered her face and it was almost like wanda had to physically restrict herself from kicking her feet like a lovesick teenager.

she looks at the watch on her wrist and decides she could leave right now if she wanted. after all, she is her own boss.

“if that’s okay with you,” she shyly replies, “i can be at yours in about an hour or maybe less?”

an impossibly large grin covers your face at her reply, “that’s perfect. i can’t wait to see you.”

after you two hang up, the air seems lighter and you both know that the dinner isn’t just a friendly invitation. somehow, you both know that it signifies the potential start of something special.

wanda arrives to your house, true to her word, in less than an hour. she even brought you small bouquet of white roses with a pink bow.

you open the door to wanda standing there with a sheepish grin, a huge contrast to the businesswoman you met last month.

“hi,” her voice low, “i know you said i didn’t need to bring anything, but i didn’t want to come to your house for the first time empty handed. i didn’t want to be rude, especially since—“

wanda rambles and you can’t help but try to hold in a laugh at her nervous demeanor.

“wanda?” you tilt your head slightly with a teasing tone. your lips pursing together in a feeble attempt to contain a laugh.

wanda raises her eyebrows in acknowledgment as she looks at you with a flustered look, “yeah?”

your heart melts at the sight of her clutching the roses and rocking back and forth with an anxious look.

“come inside,” you hold your hand out to her to pull her inside, “your plate is already on the table.”

wanda looks at your outstretched hand, then back up to your eye, almost like she didn’t expect it. she takes your hand and allows you to guide her into your home.

she hands you the flowers with a timid smile, “i wasn’t sure what your favorite flowers were, so i tried to play it safe with roses.”

wanda looks uneasy and it takes everything in you to not let out a laugh, “thank you, wands. you’re so sweet.”

wanda’s heart beats faster at the sound of the nickname and you calling her sweet. she follows after you as you walk towards the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

the smell of roasted chicken and mashed potato full the air and you can hear wanda’s stomach growl as she stands near you.

that’s what makes you finally break into a fit of laughter. wanda looks at you sheepishly and apologizes softly.

“no, no,” you giggle softly and guide wanda to the table by the waist, “you need to eat, come on.”

wanda’s heart pounds as you lead her with such casual intimacy. she watches you as you walk back with two glasses, her lips curling into a smile as you set one down in front of her while you glance back at her with a playful expression.

“everything smells amazing,” she looks at the food then up to you again, “did you really make this on your own?”

you laugh softly, “what, you think i can’t cook?”

shaking her head and suppressing an apology, “no, i think you can do anything. this just smells amazing— like it came from a restaurant.”

wanda watches you with an amused expression as you playfully roll your eyes at her compliment. you pour the drinks in hopes that the flush on your face will go away— it doesn’t. wanda gazes at you as you busy yourself with making sure she’s taken care of.

as you two eat dinner together, the conversation flows and you two share jokes and memories. wanda begins talking about her childhood as you listen intently and rest your chin in your hand.

wanda’s infectious smile as she talks about her brother, pietro, is something you’re sure you’ll never be able to forget. she tells you all about how he was always a problem child and she always had to cover for him growing up. you find yourself hanging onto every word that comes out of her lips.

“i mean, i love him and all but, geez, that boy had everyone worried when he’d come home with a scrape on his face,” she shakes her head in disbelief as she recounts stories of him as a teen. you can see the love in her eyes as she talks about life before she became who she is today.

you decide to throw caution to the wind and ask something more personal, “do you think your relationship has changed with your family since you became big in the business world?”

wanda’s breath hitches as you ask that. she looks off into space as she thinks over the question, a small sigh coming from her lips.

“yes and no,” she sounds far off as she’s speaks— you almost regret asking such a question, “i miss my family— the dynamic we had, but i’m also a career woman. i’m lucky to be in the position i’m in, and i’m happy i’m able to provide for my family and give back. i see it as a price i had to pay.”

you nod along as wanda speaks, your hand subtly grazing over the back of her hand as she speaks. you aren’t sure if she wants to continue this conversation, but you allow her to take the rein.

after a few more minutes of wanda speaking about her family, she helps you pick up the table. you’re stood at the sink, ready to begin washing dishes before wanda stands next to you with a curious expression.

“what are you doing?” she goes to grab the sponge from your hand before you look at her with a confused look.

“washing the dishes?” wanda almost laughs at your tone, shaking her head at you. she gently pushes you to the side, “let me do it, you cooked our dinner.”

needless to say, you two both stood side by side washing the dishes together— the smile on your faces never leaving.

wanda turns to you after the last dish is dried with a smile, “thank you for tonight. i can’t remember the last time i had a good meal like that, or such great company for that matter.”

wanda watches in amusement as a blush covers your cheeks and you try to distract yourself. your chest tightens and wanda watches as you fold a dish rag.

turning to face her, your eyes trace over her features— something that makes wanda freeze, “you’re always welcome in my home, wanda. i loved having you here.”

her eyes meet yours, something unreadable behind her eyes as you two look at each other.

“i know tomorrow’s event sounds a little intimidating,” she speaks slowly, choosing her words deliberately, “but i’m really grateful you’re coming with me.”

the gentle reminder of tomorrows event causes your stomach to flip. the thought of being back in wanda’s world— the banquets, the attire, the business talk. it’s all out of the norm for you, a complete 180 from the simple night you two just shared together. however, the gentle way that wanda spoke to you brought you some sort of comfort.

“i’ll be okay as long as i’m with you,” you say gently, looking at wanda with a soft expression that made wanda smile.

her words struck you where she’d hoped they would. she nods softly and brushes her fingers against the back of your palm, her warm fingers leaving goosebumps on your skin.

“it’s getting late, i think i should head out. we have a day ahead of us tomorrow.” wanda says, feeling remorseful that she has to end the night.

you nod solemnly as you begin to walk her to your front door. you open the door, the cool air now tracking inside. wanda turns to you, her eyes sweeping over your face as if memorizing your every detail.

“thank you,” her eyes flicker to your lips for a second too long, then back up to your eyes with a teasing smile, “i hope we can do this again.”

you nod softly and agree, watching her as she mentally battles between wanting to say more and leaving home.

“goodnight, wanda,” your voice came out softer than intended, but wanda loved it the gentleness in your tone.

“goodnight,” she gives you a warm look before walking towards her car and driving off. her adoring presence still felt inside your home.

the following day is filled with anxious thoughts and the overwhelming knowledge of knowing your night will be occupied by wanda. you know that she will be by your side the whole night, but knowing you’ll be in her world for a few hours is what causes your stomach to churn.

over the past few weeks, wanda has brought a sense of warmth to your everyday life that you hadn’t known before. her attentiveness and willingness to help you keeps you growing a liking to her more and more.

but tonight feels different— you’ll be crossing over into her world.

you’re seated at your vanity finishing up your makeup as your hair sets in place when you get a call from wanda. your heart beats a bit faster at the contact picture that takes over your lock screen. you’d taken a picture of her sipping her coffee while looking over the rim at you. her eyes twinkled as she made eye contact with you, and her small smile made brought one of your own over your face— even with nerves boiling in your chest.

“hi, wands,” you put the call on speaker as you grab your dress to put on. the black beading on the bodice catches your eye in the light— a reminder of wanda’s thoughtfulness. you still can’t believe wanda went out of her way to get you a dress like this.

“hi, you,” wanda’s warm voice comes through the call and it immediately coaxes a laugh out of you. “i’ll be at yours in about 20 minutes. do you need me to bring you anything?”

wanda is an incredibly thoughtful person and is always checking up on you— and today is no different. she’s sent you a few texts throughout the day sprinkled with reassurance and care.

“no, ma’am,” you say as you put the dress on, allowing yourself to marvel in its entirety and how perfect it fits. “just need you to get here.”

your voice is light and teasing, and you’re sure wanda can hear.

in fact, she can, and it makes her heart skip a beat. her fingers drum on her steering wheel as she prays the red light turns green. all she can think about is getting to you as quickly as possible.

“as you wish,” her voice softer now. “i’ll be there in two seconds.”

you two hang up and soon you’re walking to your front door fully dressed to accompany wanda’s event. on the other side of the door is a fully nervous business woman who can’t stop messing with her hair and blazer while she waits for you to open the door.

when you finally open the door, she looks up quickly and stiffens just a bit, then smiles widely as she takes the sight of you in.

her eyes rake over you as she takes every detail in— the way the dress hugs your body, the subtle curl of your hair, and the glow of your skin.

“hi,” her eyes travel from the dress up to your eyes, her face visibly turning a shade of pink, unable to stop the smile adorning her face, “you look.. wow. the dress is.. perfect. you’re perfect.”

her compliment makes your cheek burn and you can’t help but try to bite back a shy smile. wanda lets out a small laugh as she notices your bashfulness.

“thank you, wanda. you look beautiful.”

you look over the taller woman’s figure, at the way she looks poised in her well tailored suit. “i love you in suits.”

it was meant to just be a friendly compliment, but she way wanda immediately became shy was something you would pay to see again. her nose scrunches gently and she tries her best to not look you in the eye as she thanks you.

for a moment, you two stand there like giddy teenagers until wanda wanda finally clears her throat, offering you her arm with a nervous laugh.

“shall we?”

you nod as you slip your arm through hers. the soft fabric of her blazer rubbing against your skin somehow grounds you as you take in the moment. wanda gazes at you while she guides you into her car, admiring how your smile has yet to leave your face.

you two sit in the car en route to the event, making small conversation in attempts to ease the nerves that the both of you have.

“how’s my girl?” wanda asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence. you look over at her with a confused expression, eyebrows scrunched together.

she looks at you with an amused look, “i’m talking about valerie.. you know, the tiny little girl with the same dimples as you? the sweet little four year old?” wanda teases you slightly, letting out a little laugh.

you roll your eyes and softly hit her arm that’s resting on the gear shift. “yes, i know my niece. she’s okay, still the same girly girl you met a month ago.”

wanda nods as you catch her up to speed with your niece— and how she keeps asking for her. in fact, it catches wanda off guard but she loves the idea of the little girl asking to see her again. after all, it gives her an excuse to be around you more often.

pulling the car into the valet area, she looks over at you with a grin. you groan, knowing that it only means trouble.

“let me take you and valerie out on a girls date.” her grin widens as she takes your hand in hers, her thrumb brushing over the top of your hand.

your brows raise, and for a moment you’re stunned into silence. the casual way she said it, like blending herself into your world is something she wouldn’t mind, makes your heart flutter.

“thank about it, okay?” she says with a teasing smirk as she gets out and hands the keys to the valet, “let’s just get through tonight first.”

her hand rests on the small of your back as she guides you into the building, the world moving as you walk in.

it’s overwhelming, the glamour of it all. high ceilings with glittering chandeliers, but the polite hum of conversations enveloping you reminds you you’re not alone in this room. everything feels so polished and poised, you’re not in your element.

wanda walks you around, holding some sort of physical contact with you and introduces you to a few of her colleagues. they are all lovely people who enjoy conversing with you about your line of work and passions. slowly but surely, you’re falling into an gentle rhythm— wanda’s hand on your back reminding you that you’re not alone.

she stays close to you and you cling to the warm comfort she brings— the way she looks at you with a soft smile. her steady and warm voice grounds you as she whispers words of reassurance, making the night seem entirely less daunting.

“you’re doing great,” she whispers into your ear as she squeezes your hip gently. somehow throughout the night, wanda ended up with her arm around your waist.

you manage a small smile as you adjust the straps of your dress while you glance over the room, watching everyone mingle with one another. you swallow hard as you take in the people in their tailored suits and effortless fashion.

wanda notices— of course she does. even with business going on, she’s got an eye on you. you’re her priority tonight. she steps closer to you, her fingers grazing your palm easily, a quiet gesture of reassurance.

“i’ve got you,” wanda whispers lowly so just you can hear, “i’m with you, okay?”

your heart aches at her words, you look up at her with a grin— you’re not alone.

before you can even reply, you’re cut off by a voice.

“well, maximoff, you’ve got… unique taste in company,” the sharp voice cuts through you and you immediately want to retreat.

your stomach drops and you hardly have the chance to even react before wanda instinctively pulls you closer.

her expression sharpens, the teasing and comforting energy you’ve grown so accustomed to immediately fades into something more firm and commanding.

“i would be careful if i were you when it comes to speaking about her.” her voice is laced with edge and sharpness.

the woman blinks, taken aback at wanda’s sudden shift in energy. wanda is known to be a firm but understanding boss, so for her to take on a firm authoritative role catches her off guard. wanda doesn’t give her a chance to recover, her posture straightening, a quiet but undeniable authority radiating from her.

“i’d think twice before making comments like that in my presence,” her voice is even, but firm, “don’t forget who signs your checks.”

the woman’s face pales and she blinks rapidly, muttering an apology, but wanda’s state has them taking a few steps back until they disappear into the crowd.

wanda’s hand finds your waist as she pulls you closer into her, her stern expression melting into something softer as she looks at you. “are you okay?” she’s speaking gently to you, her thumb rubbing against the fabric of your dress.

you nod, your stomach churning at the interaction, “i’m sorry, wanda. i didn’t mean to cause any—“

she shakes her head, interrupting you firmly. “don’t apologize for anything. don’t let anyone here make you feel uncomfortable.”

she leans in slightly, “you’re here because i want you here,” her voice holds a sincerity, “let’s step away for a bit, okay?”

you blindly follow wanda as she leads you with a hand on your waist to a more secluded area of the hall. she’s got you sat on a bench outside on a terrace. the lights on the railings add a sense of whimsy to the otherwise overwhelming evening.

“don’t pay attention to her or anyone else in this room.” wanda says as she brushes a strand of hair from your face. you two have yet to take any further steps towards a romantic relationship, but wanda knows you need to ground yourself with physical touch.

she scans your face as you take in her words, her eyes full of worry. “she doesn’t matter, i promise.”

nodding, almost absentmindedly, as wanda speaks to you with sincerity and patience. “thank you, wanda.”

her lips curve into a faint smile as she takes in the way you look up at her with doe eyes, “always.”

for a moment, she lingers and takes in the moment. in the quiet space between you, you realize that wanda isn’t just with you tonight, she’s standing for you.

wanda hesitates a bit before placing a comforting hand on your thigh, getting your attention. “i just..” she takes in a sharp breath, “i can’t lose.. this.”

her voice is quiet and steady, she doesn’t elaborate on what she means. you look at her face, the way you can see her mentally battling between wanting to say more and wanting to keep something to herself.

your chest tightens as you take in her vulnerability. wanda maximoff, the always composed, is now in front of you with a flicker of uncertainty hiding behind her eyes. your heart aches at how small she looks now.

placing a hand on top of hers, you move to where she can see you clearly, “you won’t, i promise.”

she nods, taking in your reassuring words. you rub your thumb over her knuckles in a way to help steady her, a gesture that’s just as comforting to her as it is to you.

she doesn’t say anything more, and neither do you— but in the space between you two, the air seems heavier and laden with something so precious and fragile.

#dirty cash #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x r #noe writes #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #wanda x you

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ambrosiagoldfish · 10 months ago

Note

Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️

like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea

Benifit of the doubt Pt.4

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 4617~

A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)

Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.

To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.

A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.

Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.

How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.

You never returned to any of the follow up meetings

But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.

“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.

“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”

Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”

You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.

“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”

Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”

You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”

That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.

You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.

Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.

“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”

Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.

Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”

“What!” Both your voices raise in shock

“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”

“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly

“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”

“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”

“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”

“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”

With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.

The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.

On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.

The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.

“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”

“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth

“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.

“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.

“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.

“When should she be arriving, Lute?”

“Within the hour.”

Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.

“She can’t see us?”

“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”

The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.

“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”

You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.

You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.

Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.

She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.

The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.

“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”

Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”

“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.

Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.

So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.

“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.

You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”

Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”

“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”

Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”

“But-“

“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”

“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”

Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought

“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg

Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.

Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.

A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!

“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding

“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”

You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”

She shakes her head

“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”

Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”

“Thank you.”

You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.

A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.

“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.

“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.

“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”

Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”

You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”

Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”

“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”

He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.

Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.

Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.

“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“

You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”

He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-

You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”

He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”

With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’

You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.

The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.

You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.

“Hi! I’m-“

The door is slammed shut, Before opening again

“Be not afraid-“

It shuts again…

Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.

“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.

“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…

“Wait, you are-“

“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”

Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.

“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”

“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”

Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”

Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”

She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”

You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.

“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.

“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first

“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.

“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”

“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.

“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”

The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch

“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.

He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.

The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.

“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”

The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.

“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”

The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”

“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”

Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.

“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”

“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”

“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”

“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs

She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.

You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.

You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.

Dixkmaster69

Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left

You there??

Fucking answer

You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.

Sweetcheeks

Hey love

Everything’s fine, I’m ok.

Aside from not having you with me :’(

Dixkmaster69

Fucking finally

You know you don’t have to do this

If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow

Sweetcheeks

Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.

I promise I’m going to be fine

I’ll be back before you know it.

Dixkmaster69

I know

This shit just worries me

Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)

You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.

Sweetcheeks

I already miss yours too <3

Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?

Dixkmaster69

Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3

You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.

“Sup”

You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”

You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”

You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”

“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”

You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…

“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”

More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”

Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”

Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.

1K notes · View notes

galactic-magick · 2 months ago

Text

The Handsome Assistant: Viktor x Reader

Summary: You keep running into the handsome Dean's assistant, whom you find you have a lot in common with. You develop quite the crush, and things get a little messy when your friends find out about him.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: some implied suggestive stuff, alcohol use

Author's Notes: Set before Season 1 Act 1. Just a warning, this is probably the most heavily self-indulgent of my Viktor fics so far. I’ve had ideas bouncing around my head for a long time about who I’d be if I lived in the Arcane universe, and I eventually just ended up taking inspiration from what I do in real life. So basically Reader works in human services and is similar to a social worker. I tried my best to write it in a way that makes sense even if you’re not familiar with that field.

Also, the roommate/friend characters are based on my besties irl, one of which is also my beloved tumblr mutual @ohboi , who has been dealing with my nonstop Viktor obsession for a long ass time now so shout-out to them lol. I wrote you living your dream in this fic as a way to apologize <3

It’s exhausting dealing with the powers of topside. There’s no sense of urgency here, no drive for real progress. You’ve attended meeting after meeting, maintaining composure every time they tell you your mission isn’t a priority, or that it will take decades to implement.

All you want is to help the struggling children in the Undercity. It’s what you’ve dedicated your life to, studying human services and psychology at the Academy and building your own grassroots group with a few others from your graduating class. You primarily advocate for better education, as the schools down there barely get any funding. The council doesn’t want to hear it, though, as it’s much easier to forget about the citizens below their feet.

It frustrates you beyond belief, especially since the first chunk of your life was spent in the Undercity. You lived the stark contrast between the two cities yourself, being granted countless more opportunities once your family moved to Piltover. It was sickening, and you felt so guilty with your new privileges when your friends back home still had none. But without those privileges, you wouldn’t have been able to attend the Academy and give back.

You resist the strong urge to scream after another failed proposal with the council. You prepared all of your points for weeks, fact-checking everything and making sure your ideas were plausible. The budget and statistics you wrote out projected exponential progress for both cities, as focusing on the new generation of Zaunites would encourage the next great minds and likely lead to collaboration on mutual issues. But of course, the council is not ready to contemplate such a future.

There was one factor that wasn’t usually there, though, a handsome young man sitting beside Professor Heimerdinger. He was furiously taking notes the entire meeting, looking back down at his journal anytime you made eye contact with him. Out of all the councilors, Heimerdinger seemed the most open to your ideas, but without a majority agreeing to cast a vote to actually change policy, nothing would happen.

You walk back down the long hallway, noticing someone in your peripheral vision.

“I’m sorry the council remains so stuck in their ways,” he says. “Trust me, I understand how hard it is to hold back your anger towards them.”

You turn your head, seeing the young man from earlier, “Who are you?”

“Viktor. I’m assistant to the Dean of the Academy,” he replies, leaning on a cane. “I quite liked your ideas. I think they could work.”

“I know they would work.”

You sigh, quickly realizing you’re projecting your feelings onto this stranger.

“Sorry,” you correct yourself. “I just don’t understand how they can just not care about the suffering down there. I’m from the Undercity, I’ve seen what’s happening there firsthand, and it’s only getting worse.”

Viktor’s eyes widen a bit, “I’m from the Undercity, too.”

“You’re from the Undercity and you’re the personal assistant to Heimerdinger?” you question, a bit shocked at the prospect.

“It’s really not that big of a deal, but yes.”

“What do you mean, not a big deal? I’ve never even met anyone else from the Undercity who got into the Academy.”

“I suppose we are a rare breed,” he says. “I imagine I never saw you there due to our differences in studies.”

“Most likely,” you shrug. “None of my classes were in the science halls, assuming that’s where you were.”

He smirks, “What makes you assume I studied science?”

“You just have that look about you.”

He laughs, “Well, you’re right. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised someone well-versed in analyzing humanity read me so quickly.”

“Don’t worry, you’re still mostly a mystery to me. I can’t read minds or anything,” you flash him a genuine smile.

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“I need to get back to my lab, but I do hope we cross paths again. I’ll certainly discuss your proposals more with Heimerdinger as well.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

He leaves in the opposite direction, his cane tapping the floor.

What an interesting twist of fate, meeting someone like you.

The second time you run into Viktor is at an Academy party a couple months later, something you both likely would’ve skipped if you could. It’s somewhat a recruiting event for new students, and several alumni were asked to represent their fields of study. It’s not that you mind talking with prospective students, but you know you’ll have to hold back a lot of your true opinions when doing so. If you go off about how the curriculum doesn’t cover enough about the issues in the Undercity, you’ll surely get a reprimand from your former professors. You could lose several connections and investors in your organization as well, something you’re not willing to risk. Instead, you keep a smile on your face, engaging in conversation politely and answering questions.

You notice Viktor sitting at one of the far tables, his eyes darting around the room. He has several contraptions set up, and occasionally people come up to ask him about them. He lights up when he speaks, his face making the cutest expressions.

You notice yourself staring, quickly turning your head towards something else.

That sconce on the wall looks nice, doesn’t it?

As the event slows down and the crowd shuffles out, you pack up your things and head to the door, glancing back at Viktor’s table for a moment. He’s looking right back at you, and your heels swivel promptly to go see him.

“Hey,” you say, shooting him a smile. “Nice to see you again.”

Shit, was he this handsome the first time you met him?

“You as well,” he nods, gathering up his own things scattered in front of him. “Did you find anyone to join your program?”

“A few, yeah. You?”

“Several. More than I expected.”

He huffs, soon realizing all of his tech and science displays were not going to fit in the one cart that was left.

“I can help you carry your stuff, the science wing isn’t that far from here, right?” you offer, shifting your things under one arm and grabbing some of his things with the other.

“You don’t have to do that,” he protests, but you’re already propping open the door and gesturing him to come along with a head tilt.

“I really don’t mind. Come on.”

You help him put things away in the different classrooms and offices, careful not to break anything. You’ve never been in this side of the school before, and it’s set up quite differently than the usual classrooms you were in. There’s much more going on than a usual lecture hall, tools and chemicals you don’t dare touch lining the perimeter. Viktor thanks you for your assistance as you finish getting everything in place, and you once again prepare to go your separate ways.

“Wait—” he says before you leave, pulling out his journal and flipping through it. “I wrote down a lot more notes that might be helpful for your project, I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

He hands over the open page for you to read, and your jaw drops. It’s so detailed, every proposal you had broken down to its smallest pieces. He even laid out the budget and resource use and everything it would take to not only build and fund better schools in the Undercity, but also work on housing and overall infrastructure. He even has some theories scribbled on how to keep the air cleaner and fix problems with the fissures.

You can’t believe he’s been thinking about you and everything you said for all this time since you last met.

“Viktor, this is amazing.”

“I know it still may not convince the entire council, but I found your ideas quite inspiring. I hope my calculations can be informative.”

“They certainly are,” your fingers hover over the written words and numbers. “Thank you, Viktor.”

“Of course,” he grins. “I look forward to seeing what you accomplish.”

You find yourself running into him a lot more often after that, “accidentally” walking by each other’s offices at least once a week and talking long beyond what you probably should while working. Your soul feels so in tune with his, a phenomenon that surely shouldn’t be happening with someone you haven’t known very long.

Your conversations quickly progress to topics non-work related, his curiosity blooming with every little thing you share with him. Most days after work you simply can’t stop talking to each other, causing you to get home later and later until your roommates start to get nosy.

“I really have to go, Viktor,” you laugh, glancing at the clock that reads three whole hours past the end of your shift. You’ve been chatting about embarrassing Academy stories, reminiscing on both the stark similarities and differences between your experiences.

His eyebrows raise. “Shit, is it really that late?”

“Yeah,” you grab your bag with a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“You already work too much overtime as it is! What’s so important that you have to stay late every single day?” one of your roommates, Eli, probes, clearly unsatisfied with the half-truth answers you’ve given so far. You don’t really want to tell the full truth just yet, that you’ve been talking with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t experience the passage of time whatsoever when you’re around him. That would sound ridiculous, especially since absolutely nothing will ever come of it. He’s a wonderful colleague, but you’d be foolish to ever expect anything more.

“There’s just a lot to do,” you finally say.

“You need a break, that’s what you need to do,” they emphasize. “How about we go down to The Last Drop tomorrow night? It’s been a while since we’ve seen our friends down there.”

You nod, “Alright, I’ll try not to stay late tomorrow.”

“You better not.”

They glare at you jokingly, and you let out a laugh and exhale of relief.

You finish up your notes for the day, whipping your head back and forth to check if the coast is clear. You know yourself and your own weakness—you certainly won’t get out of here on time if you run into Viktor for even a second.

But of course, like clockwork, his familiar tap on your leg with his cane greets you moments later, your heart fluttering to a discomposing degree. Him coming to see you is a routine now, and despite your promise to your friends you are aching to talk to him. You haven’t had a proper night out in months, why is it so hard to just leave?

If any of your racing thoughts are visible on your features, Viktor certainly picked up on them.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just...long day,” you reply. “But my roommates are taking me out tonight, maybe that will wake me back up.”

“I won’t keep you long, then—”

He’s cut off by Eli calling your name, jaw dropped as they come towards you down the hallway.

“I knew there was something you weren’t telling me!” they chuckle in disbelief. “Working late my ass.”

“I was literally on my way home!”

“I just wanted to come check!”

Your face grows hot. It isn’t abnormal for your roommates to visit you at your job every so often, bringing you important documents you forgot at home or bringing you a treat on your birthday, but under the current circumstances you’re a bit mortified.

They reach out their hand, “I’m Eli, Y/N’s roommate. Who do you think you are?”

“Viktor.” he shakes it, surprisingly not appearing phased by their directness.

“Interesting,” they look him up and down, then turn to you. “So, he’s coming with us, right?”

“Oh, um...I didn’t ask—“

Viktor can’t help but smile at your flustered face.

“If I’m invited, I wouldn’t mind joining.”

“I can’t believe you.”

Mumbling under your breath, you enter The Last Drop. Viktor told you he’d meet you there in about an hour, which thankfully gives you some time for some drinks to numb your nerves.

“Look, I honestly don’t know why you didn’t just tell us about him. He seems like a good one.”

“It’s not like that,” you correct them. “He’s not into me like that. We just work on some projects together, that’s all.”

You order a drink from Vander at the bar, gulping it down a little too quickly.

“That kinda night, eh?” he laughs, pouring you another one before you have to ask.

“Yeah.”

You have a few more drinks and shots with your roommates and old Undercity friends, your mind and body entering such a daze that you almost forget Viktor is meeting you there later. You play games together and get teased about some of your adopted topside ways, and you even get back at Eli by pushing them to talk to Sevika, who they ogle at quite literally every time you come to this bar with them. It’s the kind of night where you can be free and careless, temporarily leaving your problems behind in favor of bad decisions.

You have to do a double take when you finally see Viktor arrive. He’s changed out of his Academy uniform, now dressed much more casually and much more like a Zaunite.

“It seems I’m a little late to the fun,” he observes.

“We’re just starting!” you beam, the drunk giggles taking over you.

“How many have you had?”

“I don’t know, like 7 or 8 maybe,” you shrug.

He lifts his cane against you and steers you away from the bar, shaking his head, “I think you’re done for tonight.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. “But not because you told me to, because I don’t want to throw up.”

He stays close to you while you stumble back to your friends’ table, chuckling at the slurred introductions you give him. They all accept him into their games and conversations instantly, and you quickly find out Viktor can handle his liquor a lot better than you. He puts all of them to shame, and they love finally having decent competition.

Your friends all whisper their approval to you throughout the night, even though you’ve repeatedly reminded them that nothing is going on. Although, you’re not really helping your case by zoning out every few minutes on his face.

“You have pretty eyes,” you say, staring until you realize what you just said out loud.

“That’s very kind,” he responds hesitantly. “But I’m sure your vision is a bit...tainted.”

“Alcohol doesn’t change color perception, dumbass.” you retort. “Besides, I’m sobering up a little.”

“Well then,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

You sigh, taking a sip of some water and glancing around the room. The bar is close to closing, and most of your friends have left.

“Have you seen Eli recently? I haven’t seen them in a while.”

He snickers, “You didn’t see them go in the back with Sevika?”

“They what?” you jump out of your seat. “Oh they’d better tell me everything.”

“I’m sure they will,” he laughs. “Do you need someone to walk you home, then?”

“Probably. Who knows how long they’ll be.”

The buzz has worn off quite a bit now, so thankfully you’re not tripping all over nothing and further embarrassing yourself. Viktor’s beautiful glow in the moonlight is more than enough to accomplish that, your gazes prolonging far longer than they should.

“Thank you for coming tonight, it was fun,” you say, fumbling for your apartment key in your pocket. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, though.”

“Don’t apologize. It was very amusing.”

“Good.” you exhale. “Just ignore anything weird I said, okay?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” he smirks. “Now get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sleep is certainly what you get, and the next morning before work is full of a head-pounding hangover and chaotic conversation. Your roommates Eli and Chanthou can’t stop laughing about everything that happened, and naturally you’re very nosy about the Sevika situation. Eli tells you every little detail of course, giddy and in disbelief that they managed to make-out with her all night.

“So? Are you guys going to get together again?” you ask on the edge of your seat.

“I hope so.”

“Looks like you both got what you wanted last night,” Chanthou adds.

“Guys, he just walked me home. That’s all.” You’re getting a little annoyed with the constant reminders that your little crush is not, in fact, reciprocated.

“You...don’t remember?” she looks at Eli, then cocks her head at you. “About halfway through the night you were all over him. We just assumed you guys finally confessed.”

You didn’t think you drank enough to blackout, but you definitely don’t remember whatever they’re talking about. Besides, if you really were doing that, why didn’t Viktor say something once you were sobered up?

And what, now you have to see him in the office today, having no idea what you said to him?

“Oh, fuck, guys. What exactly did I do?”

“I don’t know what happened after I went back with Sevika, but before I left you were sitting on his lap on the couch and playing with his hair—”

“WHAT?”

“Wow, you really don’t remember, do you?”

You groan, wishing you didn’t have to go in today. You have a couple important meetings though, so you’ll have to power through. You take some painkillers and grab your things, praying for the first time that you can get through the day without seeing Viktor.

Your headache refuses to lessen its throbbing for your entire shift, making the work you usually enjoy completely miserable. You snap at one too many co-workers and find yourself staring at the clock desperately. Why did you agree to drinking on a weeknight again?

Just as you dreaded, you run into Viktor outside, too obviously waiting for you to pretend to ignore him.

“Hey…” you avoid looking into his eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything about what really happened last night?”

“I...wasn’t sure you’d remember,” he confesses. “I suspected you blacked out when you said you didn’t remember seeing Eli leave. And I wasn’t sure you meant what you said anyway.”

“Please, Viktor. Just tell me what I said. All my roommates told me was I couldn’t stop touching you, which I am so sorry about—“

“N-No, don’t be. Everything was consensual, I assure you.” his face flushes. “You just told me you have feelings for me, that’s all. I was going to tell you last night too if you hadn’t said it first.”

Your eyes widen at his words, your heart threatening to leave your chest.

“But it seems you don’t remember, so I can still count this as making the first move, hmm?”

Shivers race down your spine as Viktor leans in, his fingertips grazing your cheek. His lips meet yours softly, your eyes fluttering shut as he presses deeper. His hand remains holding your face when he pulls away, scanning your expression for your reaction.

“I guess the feeling is mutual,” you chuckle, still a bit breathless.

“Quite so, darling.”

More Author's Notes: I have a bad habit of getting drunk around guys I like irl bc I literally can’t handle being around hot people sober so that's the inspiration for that situation lol. Also, a part 2 to this is already in the works, it'll be set during Act 1 and probably parts between 1 and 2.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #arcane

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ew-selfish-art · 2 years ago

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Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?

Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.

Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.

Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.

Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.

But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.

Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.

“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.

“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.

“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.

“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”

“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”

From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.

Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.

They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.

Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.

Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #Tim drake #dead tired #dc crossover #dp crossover #ehehehehe #also him just grabbing any random hero to help on any issue their power set might help to advise #danny outsourcing his issues is my favorite headcanon #boy wants to be helpful but also like is begging to just have one lazy Sunday #Tim drake is like ‘why would I not help run a monarchy in my spare time from running a Fortune 500 company and being a vigilante?’#tim drake is a menace #he’s what the eyeballs have nightmares about and they didn’t even think they could have nightmares

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neiptune · 3 months ago

Text

this town is fake but you're the real thing

cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets

Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.

An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.

“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.

“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.

“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.

Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.

“She met Motoya”.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.

With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.

“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.

“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.

“I talk—”

“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.

“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.

“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.

“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.

“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”

“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.

So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.

Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it.

The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.

Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.

Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.

There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.

Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.

Lavenderhaze

-> Hi.

Lavenderhaze

-> How are you?

He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.

crysnoopy

-> hey. all good, wbu?

Lavenderhaze

-> Good, bored.

Lavenderhaze

-> Should we exchange nudes or something?

Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.

A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?

He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.

Unfinishedusernam

-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?

Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.

crysnoopy

-> I don’t shower.

A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s hot.

-> Why the username?

Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.

Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)

-> Lowkey thought you were an incel

This time he really does snort out half a laugh.

crysnoopy

-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fair. So… you do shower, right?

crysnoopy

-> I promise I do.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.

-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks

Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.

crysnoopy

-> likewise. wanna make it official?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first

Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.

He accepts it.

It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.

They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.

But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.

He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.

Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.

When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?

Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.

Unfinishedusernam

-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!

-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)

-> [IMG_65209]

Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.

crysnoopy

-> I’m at training.

-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?

He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.

He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.

Unfinishedusernam

-> It was nice! I love spending time with them

-> How’s training?

Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.

He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.

crysnoopy

-> [IMG_65209]

-> Almost done, very tired

He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.

“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.

“You okay?”.

“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.

“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.

“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.

“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.

“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.

“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.

Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.

“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.

“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.

“Sure we are!”.

“I’m serious, you ass—”

“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.

It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.

Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.

The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You have really nice hands

He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.

It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems… unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.

“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.

“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.

“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.

She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.

“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.

“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.

Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.

The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.

Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.

Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.

Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.

Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.

Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still at training?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep

Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.

crysnoopy

-> Just got home

-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)

His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me

crysnoopy

-> No I don’t?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.

-> [IMG_98279]

A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.

crysnoopy

-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair

-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?

Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.

crysnoopy

-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers

When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Knew it. Flirt.

-> Can I ask you something?

crysnoopy

-> Ask away

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why are you on this app?

He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.

crysnoopy

-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know

He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Do you think you could open up to me?

Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.

crysnoopy

-> Maybe

-> I’d like that.

He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, he’s okay with simply letting you know.

Osaka ends up being extra motivating.

The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.

Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.

When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.

As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.

“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.

“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.

“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.

Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.

“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.

“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.

“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.

“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.

“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.

“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.

“I feel like… you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.

He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.

He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.

“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.

“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.

“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.

“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.

“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.

On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.

“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.

“Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.

“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.

“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.

“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.

“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.

“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.

“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.

“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?

“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.

“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.

“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.

“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.

“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.

“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.

“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.

Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.

“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.

I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.

Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.

His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.

It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.

miyatsumu brothers ❤️

Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.

He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Osaka!!!!

-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?

crysnoopy

-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon

Unfinishedusernam

-> Your friends are also athletes???

-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening

-> [IMG_62371]

Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.

crysnoopy

-> Looks like a perfect evening to me

Unfinishedusernam

-> I only walked 200 steps today.

crysnoopy

-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say

-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?

-> Stop surviving, start thriving?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner

He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?

Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Yeah?

crysnoopy

-> I feel that too

-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person

Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why do you think that?

crysnoopy

-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave

-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me

-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?

Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.

Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.

Unfinishedusernam

-> How did you meet your current friends?

He furrows his brows.

crysnoopy

-> Most of them I met in school

Unfinishedusernam

-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time

-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)

-> You can always work on what you want to improve

crysnoopy

-> You make it sound too easy

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes it really is tho

-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them

Unfinishedusernam

-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away

-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal

Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to

-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol

-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder

Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still there?

crysnoopy

-> I’m here

How could he not be?

crysnoopy

-> Thank you

Unfinishedusernam

-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)

Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.

crysnoopy

-> Mysteriously comforting

-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Nah

-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me

crysnoopy

-> That sucks for them

It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?

Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.

He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s sweet of you to say!

-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster

-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now

crysnoopy

-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you

Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.

Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?

Unfinishedusernam

-> This dinner fucking slaps btw

-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka

-> It’s called onigiri miya

Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.

Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”

“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.

“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.

“Really? Did she like it?”.

“Osamu”.

He chuckles lightly.

“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.

“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “… along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.

There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.

“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.

“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.

“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just…”.

“Put something together for her”, as you always do.

“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.

“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.

“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.

“Yeah?”.

“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.

“Tell her what?”.

“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.

Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.

“Samu”.

“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.

“I think I like her”.

“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.

Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.

Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much

-> Would you tell me if I was too much?

crysnoopy

-> What do you mean?

Unfinishedusernam

-> You know, if I was pestering you

crysnoopy

-> You’re not too much

-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)

You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.

And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I wish you were here

-> I’d probly just kiss you

Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.

He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.

crysnoopy

-> I want nothing more

-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?

It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.

As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.

Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.

You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.

crysnoopy

-> Killer headache town, population: me

crysnoopy

-> How are you feeling?

crysnoopy

-> Hey, everything ok?

crysnoopy

-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it

crysnoopy

-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.

-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me

crysnoopy

-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days

crysnoopy

-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.

He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?

Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.

The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.

But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.

It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)

Unfinishedusernam

-> Today was shit

-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working

Unfinishedusernam

-> I feel so slilly

-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?

Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.

And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.

“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.

The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.

“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.

“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.

He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.

When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.

Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.

He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.

Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.

He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.

Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.

“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.

“I’m trying”.

“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.

It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.

-> No worries, I’ll find the house.

The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.

“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.

Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.

“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.

“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”

“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.

“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.

“You… what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?

“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.

Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.

“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?”.

For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.

“Suna?”.

“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.

“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.

“What now?”.

“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.

“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.

“I kinda need to use it now”.

“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.

“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.

“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.

“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.

Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?

“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.

“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.

“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.

“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.

“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.

“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.

He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.

“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?

Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.

They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.

His neighbor (could it be…???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.

“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.

“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.

He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.

Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?

He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.

Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.

A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?

He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.

“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.

“None of your business. Lock the door”.

“Sure, sure, bye”.

“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.

You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.

Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.

As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.

Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.

What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.

You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.

“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.

“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to… hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.

You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.

“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.

“No, no…”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.

“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine… amusement?

“I need to tell you something”.

The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.

“Sure…?”.

“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.

It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.

“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.

It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.

“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.

“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one… I should be…”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.

“Please don’t cry”.

“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.

“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”

“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.

“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.

Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.

You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.

“Are you disappointed?”.

You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.

“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But… what now?”.

Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.

He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?

You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.

The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.

crysnoopy

-> Now we do this right.

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #hq x reader

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snickerdoodie · 5 months ago

Note

Any hc’s for Scott (twisters) who is only not an asshole when he’s around his s/o? Others see him being sweet to her and are like wtf why can’t be be that nice to us 🥲

No cause I’ve also been obsessed with that idea of him for so long, ahhh. He seems like such a “I care about you and you only” kinda guy and it just fuels my obsession

A/N: this is my first time ever writing anything like head canons so if it’s goofy I apologize in advance. Not proofread as usual. Also I really hope it was anything like you expected 😭. But anyway, enjoy!

Scott Miller Headcanons

Right off the bat, I think we can all agree talking is not one of Scott’s strong suits. The only times he really talks is when he’s proposing ideas to Riggs and Javi about potential deals. So when the team finds him willingly chatting with you after a day of collecting data, they all just short circuit.

Like hello?? Are they dreaming??? Wtf going on???? Like out of everybody to talk to you choose him??? And they’re not even mad they’re just..they have no clue what to think, they’ve never seen him look so at ease before lmao. There’s no permanent scowl on his face or anything, just his baritone voice mixing with your own. Ngl it creeped them out at first, they really thought the world was ending that night.

Javi’s the first to really notice the changes in Scotts demeanor around you; the quick glances, the ever so slight smiles, and even the smallest touches like his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand when he’s giving a speech, he’s seen it all.

Speaking of, I just know that Scott’s love language has got to be either words of affirmation or physical touch. He loves hearing you tell him how much he matters to you, or how you remember small things about him, it just makes him smile. For him being a not very vocal person, it’s hard for him to tell you straight up how much he cares for you. It doesn’t even have to be gentle or meaningful words, making witty comebacks to his sarcastic remarks is always enough for him.

But his way of expressing his affection is through small touches. Standing close enough to you where you can smell his cologne, brushes of his fingers to your waist or hand, overall just standing close to you. (Now that I think abt it, that’s a looot more like quality time but whatever☺️)

Anyway, back on topic cuz I’m too easily distracted. The crew really tried their hardest to get Scott to even be remotely nice to them after that. I mean if he was nice to you then he could be nice to them right? Can’t be that hard. Boy oh boy were they wrong…they literally did everything in their power. They bought him coffees on early mornings, made sure he has the nicest, or as nice as they could be, bed sheets at motels, volunteered to do his dirty work of pages and pages of paperwork, but literally nothing worked. All they ever got were blank stared nods or a grumbled ‘thanks.’ At this point they were flabbergasted. How could you get that cocky bastard to even glance at you?? Nevertheless smile at you?

They have up like 5 days after trying lmfao, it was utterly useless to try and make that man any less brooding then he is. After trying through, they realized that all their attempts didn’t go completely wasted.

Scott brought you hot drinks on the chilly nights and morning as you two sat together in the crappy hotel rooms. Stopped smacking his gum whenever you side-eyed him a little too hard, much to everyone’s relief. Always walked you to your room after a late night to make sure you got there safe.

As much as they hated how self centered and blunt Scott was, they all secretly knew how love drunk he was about you. (Don’t bring it up to him, but they’re all secretly jealous they dont get any kind of special treatment

First head canon ask!! I do not think I did very good at it though💀💀. I had ideas in my head but they were not coming out the way I ask. But I hoped you at least liked some of it! I promise to write a better one in the future!

And as always, feel free to comment about anything you liked or didn’t like. Inbox is always open to more ideas! <3

#headcanons #twisters 2024 #scott miller #scott twisters #javi twisters #twisters #Scott Miller fluff #scott miller x reader #x Reader?#twisters fic #twisters fan fic #Scott miller fic

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that-weird-thing-in-the-woods · 12 days ago

Note

Then I really based off of your Aphrodite post I don't know a lot about Greek gods but I'm pretty sure she's the goddess of beauty right Imagine it Au were Danny's the ancient of Love

This was inspired by an au or Danny ended up getting thrown into the ghost portal and ended up getting himself lost near Pariah Dark Castle and they made him a prince common in the comments if I end up finding the original post

But the idea is that Danny in the say you was like the ancient of love like an entire job is to help ghost find peace with someone then they can spend their Afterlife with or someone they can't spend there after like that and help with peace treaties against neighboring fighting ghost colonies

Danny joke kind like a queen of hearts aspired outfit from all this in wonderland and has a whole get up where he acts like an Alice in wonderland character

And Klarion kind of works a job there like the Cheshire cat coming in with Danny needs advice or someone to spy on someone else

So I'm just imagining a Danny meeting the Justice League through Pariah Dark trying to "peacefully" make a peace treaty with the Justice League without starting a war because his son forced him

That's in the Justice League meet Prince Phantom and his loyal Cheshire cat Klarion

Here's what I'm kind of imagining for an outfits

Danny :https://images.app.goo.gl/xNkZ2zGL956V6YfA8

Kind of imagining the Danny has his hair braided up into like hearts but they're all kind of sticking up in like a that shouldn't be possible type of way

Klarion: https://images.app.goo.gl/yPNThwycymHKoMWz9

Also the suit is like the same color as Danny's outfit always if Danny like randomly magically changes his outfit the soup will change colors with it

Of course I imagine that they add a pair of fake cat ears and he always Teekl on his shoulder while he does his job but but he's also like a dresser in the way Waco he has a pair of juggling balls that stay in the pocket of his pants cuz he's meant to entertain Danny too

I hope you like it I tried my best I don't know how to put images but if I do find that original post a based this of office I'll probably post it as repost

~{ Oooooo so that’s where the brain went I was wondering where it was and that’s an amazing idea and so have this! }~

•The Prince Of Hearts•

The young justice + Robin and Superboy are currently chasing Klarion through a large garden of red roses.

Wait let’s go back a bit to how the young justice got here in the first place.

The Ghost King had sent out a broadcast stating how war will be waged if the USA government continues to kidnap and experiment on their kind and if they don’t release his people war is inevitable. This of course causes the JL to find out what the government has been doing behind their back and when the broadcast finished the JLD just about had a group heart attack and since then they have been trying to get everything chill on both sides.

And the JL has proposed a peace treaty so this kind of thing doesn’t happen again and the JL + JLD have bought the YJ team + Superboy and Robin to watch.

But as the meeting goes on the YJ see Klarion out side and he sees them so the kids sneak out to make sure he doesn’t cause any problems for the peace treaty.

So now we have the children chasing a laughing and flying Klarion but then he sees something [or someone] and smirks to the kids and flys off to them.

They find Klarion next to a black haired and red eyed person wearing a red royal dress with hearts all over it looking at them with something they can’t pick out..

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

~{ Yeah that’s basically what I’ve come up with for this on sorry it’s not that long I’ve been busy with things. }~

•Danny’s appearance•

I would have the dress as darker shades of red with a dress I like so just imagine the dress is a darker red And I think the idea of his hair being braided as a heart is very cute but I propose an idea

✨Rose hair✨

•Klarion’s Appearance•

Yeah the same as Danny’s color and stuff .

~{ And that’s about it hope you gremlins like it byeeee }~

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 16 days ago

Note

SOULMATE SOAP HAS MY HEART. I DONT THINK THERES ANYTHING I WOULDNT DO FOR HIM

67 / 2.8k / soap soulmate au, epilogue

...

"Anything, you say?" Soap's eyes sparkle. "A dangerous proposal, hen."

You roll your eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I know what you said." He grins at you as he towels himself off. "I’m wonderin' what exactly I could get away with, bein' offered anything. No limits, no boundaries..."

You can't help but let your gaze trail down his form. He's totally naked and still dripping wet. "Anything within reason."

"Where's the fun in bein’ reasonable?"

You lean back, pulling your feet up and crossing your legs atop the low hotel coffee table where you're seated.

You and Soap have been getting to know each other here—intimately, as soulmates and people—for the past two days. You don't live near Glasgow and wouldn't tell Soap where exactly you call home, so he offered to get the two of you a hotel suite near the mountains while the higher-ups figure out what to do with you.

You figured he'd offer to take you out on a date or something, but so far you haven't made it out of the hotel room yet. It's more like a honeymoon than a vacation. You can't say you're disappointed with all the things he's shown you, though.

"Oh, so it hasn't been fun for you yet?"

Soap laughs at that and throws the towel to the carpet. No point in modesty. You’ve seen and touched every scar and bruise on his powerful body, but it does nothing to deter your gaze.

"Been plenty fun. But now I know I could be gettin’ away with even more if I play my cards right."

"Such as?"

"Marriage."

You scoff. "Pervert."

"Am I?" He leans toward you and braces his hands on the edge of the coffee table. He loves the way you try to resist looking at him but can’t help yourself. Your gaze keeps trailing down to his abs. "I think you like the idea of me down on my knees. I’ve seen you enjoyin’ the view."

Your back straightens. He's so cocky. Still, your eyes don't meet his. If anything, they dip lower. "Laswell called while you were in the shower."

"Did she?" He strolls across the space between the bathroom and the bed to his duffel bag. You lean back and watch him languidly as he digs around for his phone, his handsome mouth settling into a frown. He won’t find it. He sees why once he glances over at you to see your catlike smile.

Soap crosses his arms and looks down at you. "Resigned to petty thievery now, are we?"

You shrug and hold his phone out, letting it dangle from your fingertips like a mouse by the tail. "It's not like I have any other jobs to preoccupy my time."

He pauses to admire the view down your tank top—his tank top—and then snatches the phone away. "How many times do you want me tae beg and grovel for forgiveness? Not that you deserve it, ye wee hellion,” he mutters, scrolling through his recent calls.

"At least three more times." You lean back on your hands as he walks away. "Aren't you going to ask me what she said?"

"Are you going to tell the truth?"

"I was considering it."

"Were you?”

You sigh and watch him raise his phone to his ear. You miss when he hung on your every word.

"Go for Soap."

Soap makes a show of talking on the phone with Laswell. He tries not to glance at you too much. You and your sharp pout and the black tank top you’re wearing and how it rides up on your hips and leaves nothing to the imagination. He’ll have to do something about that later.

"Aye. Understood." A slow grin stretches across his face. "Now that is good news. Pleased to be workin' with ya, Laswell."

He hangs up. You cross your arms. "Well?"

Soap tosses his phone on the bed and turns back to you. "Ought to chew you out for answering a call on a secure line."

"Kate already did."

"Did she, now? And you’re on a first-name basis?" Now he is amused. "Don't think I'm not keeping track of every little rule you’ve broken so far. You’re in enough trouble as it is."

You bounce your leg against the tabletop. "What did she say?"

Soap closes the space between you. In the time it takes him to reach you, you stand up, bare feet on the low table. It puts you barely above eye level with him.

"She didn't tell you the news, then, did she?" His lips twist into a smug smirk. "Serves you right."

You stare him down. You don't often get the chance to, so you capitalize on it for all you're worth. "She did," you lie.

"You’re lying, darlin’."

"How would you know?"

"You'd be right pissed off already, for one." He wraps his hands around the backs of your bare thighs idly. His thumbs brush the underside of your ass. "For two, I know better than to take you at your word. Might as well start assuming the opposite of what you decide to tell me."

"That's not a nice thing to say to your soulmate."

"You’ve never been nice to me in your life." He pulls you closer, making your legs part so he can hike his thigh up between them, his foot flat on the table between yours. He grins at you. "I seem to recall you threatenin' me that first night we met."

You push against his chest to steady yourself. "I was trying to protect your dumb ass. You were going to get yourself killed."

Soap’s hand slides up to the small of your back to help you balance. "Didn't get killed, though, did I?"

"Only because I told you to hide."

"My guardian angel."

"You're lucky you got away when you did. If you compromised us, I would've gutted you."

"Vicious, vicious woman."

"Stubborn mule of a man."

"Gorgeous, disobedient pain in my ass." Soap takes your chin in his fingers and lifts it, drifting closer to your lips as if drawn in. "Not tae mention ornery."

"You're ornery."

"Now, that's hurtful. You ought to give me some sympathy."

"Give me one good reason why."

His hands slide up to cup your ass. "Because I’m your soulmate, and I’m entitled to a little sympathy for the fact that your brazen attitude makes me crazy."

You rub at his collarbone. "If you're my soulmate, it follows that you deserve it."

Christ, he loves when you say shit like that. He leans in to mouth the underside of your jaw and murmur directly against your ear. "You know what I deserve? And you’re gonna give it to me?"

You tilt your head up. His lips slide further down your neck. You preen. "Someone has to."

He lets out a dark huff of laughter at the response. You’re all too eager to push back at him, and nothing gets him hard faster than a challenge.

Just as he latches onto your neck and begins marking you with a new hickey, you push him backward onto the hotel bed. Soap laughs as he lets himself fall. Then he sits up on his elbows and leers at you. His hair is already mussed and his breathing already heavier than normal.

You climb over him, plant your palms on his shoulders, and press him down into the comforter. Right as you stoop down to catch his bottom lip in your teeth, though, you look down at him from above and frown. "Wait, but what did Laswell say?"

Soap pauses. “Now?”

"Yes." You can’t stand not knowing. "Tell me."

Soap grabs two handfuls of your ass and squeezes in annoyance. Ruin the mood, then. "She said she heard back from the program." The program meant to protect the soulmates of military operators and other agents who could be compromised by the existance—or any knowledge whatsoever—of a soulbond. Like witness protection.

You suck in an annoyed breath. "Are you really gonna lock me up in some safehouse?"

“I’d love to—chain you up, put you in a cage, keep you somewhere all safe and sound so nobody else can touch you.” Soap watches you with an off-kilter gleam in his eyes. His words draw an image in your mind that isn’t remotely unpleasant. “But it won't be with the program, no. They denied the request."

You perk up. "Really?"

Soap grins at how excited you get. “Aye. Said your old job makes you a security risk. Too hot to handle.” He lets out a huff as his hand slides up your bare thigh. “But don't get too excited. Laswell found another opening. Or… made one. Something in her sector."

You sit back in surprise. "CIA?"

"Aye. Turns out your impressive track record of selling violence for money makes you a font of useful intel. " Soap watches you, gauging your reaction. "Couldn’t let that go to waste, now, could they?"

You glare down at him. "What's the catch?"

Soap can see the wheels turning in your mind. He grins. "Oh, hardly a thing."

Your hands tighten on his shoulders in warning. "Johnny."

He grins up at you, all teeth and confidence. He loves the way you say his name. “You should go into intelligence. You’d be a hell of an interrogator. You’d get me to tell you anything and never even bat those pretty eyelashes at me."

"John, I swear to God."

He laughs as he sits up on his elbows, his free hand running up your leg to wrap around your hip. "Alright, alright. Pushy." This is almost how he wanted you: straddling him on the bed, hips pressed together. "You're the perfect hire because you come attached to your own soldier, aye? Package deal. Someone to keep an eye on you."

"What, like a handler?"

"Somethin' like that," he muses, tracing his finger along your spine.

You give him a doubtful look. There's no way Laswell would stoop so low. But seeing the shit-eating grin on his face gives you a sinking feeling. "I'm an asset?"

"Course not. An asset would've defected of their own free will. And since you runnin’ away with me is still off the record as of yet…"

Still perched across his hips, you cross your arms. "And what if I say no?"

Soap narrows his eyes.

The world flips. You're on your back, pinned underneath him against the bed. He presses your wrists against the comforter. "Then you'd be a hostage."

You pull at his grip, but it does no good. "You can’t do that."

"I can."

"Says who?"

He leans close. "Says your new handler." He lets the word sink in, lets it make your mind race with indignant heat. That's how he likes you best. His lips trail along the side of your neck, mouthing at the sensitive skin there in a way that makes you arch up. "Talk or don't. Either way, I'll have a convenient excuse to keep you locked up tight."

Naturally. He lets the truth slip out so easily. Likely because he never intended to give you much of a choice. He's learned his lesson and knows very well not to trust you to stay in one place anymore. If he wants to keep you around, he needs to play dirty. Like you.

He trusts you with his life, yes, but not with your own. And certainly not with his heart.

You scoff. But instead of resisting, you relax your body and let him have his way. "Fine. If it makes no difference, do your job. You know what that is, right? Extract my intel."

He pauses with his mouth against your neck. You’re giving in already. He isn’t used to that.

He shifts his hands to thread your fingers together and pin them higher over your head. He lets his mouth brush your neck as he speaks. "I intend to."

"Go on, then. Let’s see a real interrogation. Nothing like that silly warehouse you had me in before."

Soap’s face falls into a scowl. Cheeky. "That wasn't an interrogation, hen. That was a rescue." He settles one muscular leg back between your thighs. "Bloody eager to test my patience. And for what?"

"Mm."

He lets his knee nudge up against your core and grind against it, skin to skin. "You want a fight?" His voice softens, barely. "You want control?"

You think about it. But ultimately, you let your eyes close and relax your body that much more under him. "No, I trust you."

“Oh?” You’ve never said that before. Those words sound good coming from your lips. “Do ye?”

You open your eyes a fraction to narrow them at him. "Don't look too far into it."

“I’ll look as far as I please. Trust me not to hurt you, trust me not to let you leave...” He kisses you. It steals your breath again. "Trust me to give you what you need. Am I close?"

"You're trying to rile me up."

A dangerous grin slowly spreads across his face. “That's what I do best, sweetheart. So you trust me, eh?" When he gets like this—dark and heated, predatory—Soap looks more dangerous than all the weapons he’s ever used combined. A man as trained and deadly as Soap can get downright lethal when he’s playing with you. “Are you sure you should be trusting a man like me?”

"No, definitely not. Horrible idea."

He lets a laugh rumble out of his chest and his knee grinds against you again, earning himself a soft gasp. "But you’re still doing it, aren’t you? And you know what I'd do if your sweet little ass pulled another runner."

"I'm shaking in my socks."

His eyes flash with heat as he smirks down at you. He can feel your thighs clenching around his leg as he continues to grind against you. "You ought to be," he murmurs. "You know I got you. And you owe me."

"Do I?"

"Aye. For runnin' away from me, for lyin', for makin' me hunt you down. For makin' me drag your ass out of a frozen river. For makin' me think you were gonnae freeze t'death the moment I finally got you in my arms." He gives you such a heated look, you find yourself looking off at the ceiling behind him rather than holding his gaze. "And that's not even gettin' into all the stitches I got 'cause of you. You owe me for every single one."

You swallow. "Are you planning to hold that stuff over my head forever?"

If you had any idea how it felt to see you disappearing into that river, you probably wouldn’t be asking that.

"That depends on whether you plan on bein' the sort who needs to be kept in line forever," he growls. "Or whether you're gonnae let me keep you safe, darlin', always where I want ye."

Your face warms and your chest flutters. Damn it. "Fat chance," you retort as quickly as you can to cover up the butterflies.

"Forever it is, then." He lets go of your hands and reaches up to grab your chin. Soap has big hands, strong, with too many scars along his knuckles given his young age. "You’d do well to remember that every time you think about runnin’ from me.” His knee grinds up against you again, a tease and a promise all rolled into one. “Now tell me again that you trust me.”

"Nnh." You squirm. "Johnny, c'mon..."

"No, go on. Say it for me. Say you trust me. Say it out loud." He leans in closer. He's hungry again. Starving. "Let me hear it again. Sounds as pretty as you look."

You roll your hips against his knee again, seeing stars against your eyelids when his thigh muscle clenches.

His grip tightens in warning as he fights to keep control of himself. "You’re pushin’ it, hen."

"Do something about it," you murmur. You wanted bite in your voice, but it's not quite there. "Handler."

Coming from your mouth, it does funny things to his mind. His muscles coil tight with need. But then he relaxes. He has all the time in the world to do everything he wants to you. He bites down gently on your ear, earning a breathless shudder from you. His hands snake under your hips, pulling them up higher as his body slides between your legs.

"That's right. All mine."

...

the end :) thanks everyone! soap loves you <3

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