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jungkxook · 4 years

Text

—out of the blue. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: youtuber/gamer!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 5,204

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: catching your boyfriend bleaching and dyeing his hair for a livestream is definitely not what you expected — but it certainly has its perks.

⟶ warnings: established relationship, some attempt at humour, .2 seconds of sort of sub jungkook (you just like seeing him on his knees), you call jungkook a good boy, shower sex, hair pulling, oral sex, face riding, standing sex, breast play, cum eating, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: because blue haired jungkook has me feeling all sorts of things. also dedicating this to the lovely ryen @kithtaehyung because blue haired jungkook is getting her too and i hope this helps!! and thank you to the wonderful @gamerkooks and @stanrandomthings for always giving me inspiration for gamer jungkook <3

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook has less than a second to react when he hears you bursting through the door of his bedroom, a guilty expression plastered on his face as if you’ve caught him in the midst of a much worse act than what he’s already currently doing ━ but the flustered scowl deepening your countenance is enough for him to certainly feel that way, because how else is he supposed to casually explain why he’s currently sitting shirtless in front of a camera?

Admittedly, the sight is odd enough, and there’s a split moment where your incredulous look is enough to make him feel as if he’s wronged you, and your six month long relationship with him, entirely before he remembers that he didn’t actually do anything wrong like cheat on you, but is actually just trying to dye his hair.

He’s sat in his gaming chair, camera and lights set up around him, and the monitor of his desktop all recording his face to the hundreds of thousands of viewers currently watching his livestream. He had told you well in advance about his aim to do a twenty-four hour live broadcast for his subscribers to both raise money for a donation and to countdown to his next subscriber milestone with the help of his friends ━ and had even asked you to help him plan the event, discussing it animatedly with you for the past month on various occasions ━ but mainly just because Jungkook is crazy enough to sit through a twenty-four hour stream and call it fun.

You had known most of how the entirety of the day would go. Starting from noon the previous day to now, almost an hour before the stream ends, thus far he’s done various gameplays from Minecraft to Overwatch to Among Us simultaneously with his friends who had offered to marathon with him the twenty-four hour event; had a period of time in which Jimin and Taehyung were over and cramped in his room to answer questions and talk to viewers but mostly just to create absolute chaos. You had been there for most of it, though you’re still trying to figure out if it’s a blessing or a curse that you were suckered into paying rent for your three bedroom apartment by Taehyung more than a year ago, and subsequently falling madly in love with Jungkook and forcing you to aid in his antics. You’ve been in a handful of his videos before, appearing in Twitch and YouTube streams, and in the background of vlogs in his channel and the channels belonging to the other boys; and, on that day for Jungkook’s twenty-four hour event, you had joined him at the start before being dragged away for work and then tried to pull an all-nighter with him until you crashed on the couch in the living room, and checking in on him occasionally to give him food and water and to just generally make sure your boyfriend isn’t dead.

Now, with the remaining final hour dwindling down, you had been in your room trying to finish last minute essay writing for school, with your phone propped up on your desk and Jungkook’s livestream playing as background noise to your studying. One minute, he had been playing a round of Among Us, and the next, when you had glanced up, he had the bottle in hand and the detrimental blue dye coating his hair in slick globs. It wouldn’t have been so shocking, had you not seen Jungkook an hour ago when he had his natural dark hair still, and now he had somehow managed to sneak in bleaching his hair in the time you had left him. Maybe it was your fault for not catching it sooner, if only because you had sheepishly taken a small nap amidst your studying only to wake up to a nightmare.

Which is where that leaves you currently, dishevelled demeanour standing at the threshold of his door after chasing over to his room, watching as Taehyung helps Jungkook sufficiently ruin his beautiful hair which you love so much.

“Uh… Dyeing my hair?” Jungkook finally answers, dumbfounded. He’s fortunate he had pulled off his shirt to avoid getting hair dye on it, an old towel now draped around his shoulders to catch any excess mess. He adds brightly, “We asked for suggestions on how to end the stream and someone said I should dye my hair, so Tae got the stuff.”

“You bleached your own hair?” You retort, exasperated. “When the hell did all this happen? I’ve been next door to you the whole time! What if your hair falls out? You should’ve gotten a professional to do it, not Tae━”

Taehyung looks inexplicably offended by your slandering remarks on his (lack of) hair styling skills, retorting with, “Yo, what the━?”

Jungkook blinks, as if just being made aware of what he’s actually doing.

“My hair’s gonna fall out?” he gaps. “Guys, what the hell? Why’d no one tell me?”

He looks from you to Taehyung then over at the comments on his livestream which are currently flooding with the sole topic of you. His eyes snag the first few that appear to him in the frenzied influx of words:

uh oh jungkook’s sleeping on the floor tonight

oh shit run bro

f in the chat for jk’s hair

get him y/n!!!!

“Dude, she’s just being dramatic,” Taehyung waves you off. He ducks out of the way when you reach out to Jungkook’s bed for a pillow and chuck it at the older boy’s head.

“And when he’s bald, then what━”

“No!” A helpless Jungkook exclaims suddenly. He gestures wildly to the stream, “Don’t give them ideas. The edits are gonna start pouring in.”

“Jeon, look, it’s too late to go back now,” Taehyung says. “You’ve got half your head covered in dye and three minutes to go with the stream. How bad can it be?”

A groveling sigh eclipses your lips as you push yourself forward. “Then at least let me help before you ruin it completely.”

Jungkook’s fortunate, to say the least, though he’s left wondering if you’re truly upset with him.

He finishes the countdown to the end of his twenty-four hour stream with you and Taehyung putting the last remaining globs of dye on his hair, a heartfelt goodbye to his viewers who marathoned the stream with him, and a promise to update them on the status of his hair when he washes the dye out.

And, just as soon as he’s shut his camera off, the mundane world returns to him.

It’s no longer millions of anonymous and faceless viewers watching him from the other side of their screens in the tiny bubble that is his room, but just you and Taehyung and the older boy’s frisky little Pomeranian dog and the threat of a wallowing regret as Jungkook thinks to himself, what the hell did he truly just do to his hair?

At some point, Taehyung retreats to his girlfriend’s house taking Yeontan with him, leaving you alone with Jungkook and he basks in the sudden cozy quiet after twenty-four hours of madness as the adrenaline rush begins to fade and mellow out. Back aching, joints cracking and popping as he stretches and moves, and eyes burning in the similar way they do from having stared at a screen for too long, but tenfold, he craves nothing more than to find your sweet and comforting touch to end such a long day.

He finds you in the living room already scrolling through your phone and your Twitter feed to read and marvel at all the comments and memes made by his viewers during his stream and his heart threatens to burst through his chest because you’ve always been so supportive of him and his fans, and they’ve always adored you and your endless interactions with them. So, surely, you can’t be mad at him for bleaching and dyeing his hair. Right?

As his arms come to wrap around you from behind, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck, he hears you bemoan, “You look like a Smurf came on your head.”

Wrong.

Well, not entirely, he guesses. You do lean into his chest, practically melting against him. A sluggish grin tugs at his lips and, instead, he chooses to ask, “Shower with me?”

“Aren’t you tired, Koo?”

“Baby,” he deadpans, and your heart flutters just a little bit, “by this point, I’m running solely on Red Bull and coffee that I’m positive I could fight the gods with my bare hands and win. In fact, I’ve had so much caffeine that I’m fairly certain I’ve ascended to the astral plane. Besides, I need to wash this dye out, and I could use some help. Sleep can wait.”

“Help,” You snort. “You’re such a liar. I already know what you want.”

“To spend time with my beautiful girlfriend? You’re right.”

“I’m not sucking your dick.”

He pulls his head back to look at you. Though he tries to look offended, there’s the tiniest of smirks on his face. “Wasn’t gonna ask you!”

You turn to properly face him in his arms and shoot him a dubious glance. He leans down to press a chilling kiss to your jaw, then nudges his nose against you in the same spot so that you’ll move your head. You do so, despite your prior scolding, and let him kiss the underside of your jaw down to your neck.

“Okay, fine,” You huff finally.

You relent, miraculously, but Jungkook had already guessed you would the moment he had found you in the living room and he couldn’t be happier.

He cherishes the moments alone with you, has come to know them well as he falls into a comfortable routine with you away from prying eyes over the last few months. Because sometimes, as he comes to learn, it’s hard to establish a relationship when his job requires him to be in the spotlight often. What is authentic and what is simply fabricated for views is difficult to discern, and yet you’re patient with him. Not everything to him is money and views and numbers, or what his next big plan is, or how you could potentially help him in some way (despite knowing that any video featuring you seems to skyrocket his views and land his videos on the trending page of YouTube more often than not because he knows everyone loves you more than him). You know when he’s his online persona and when he’s simply just Jungkook, and while there’s hardly any difference between the two, his online personality surely has to maintain a level of privacy and happiness that may not always be true.

At least with you, he can just be himself. He can finally be at ease.

Showering together is just one of the many acts of normalcy he cherishes with you. So, he turns on the shower and lets the bathroom get all warm and balmy as you undress. He’s the first one inside, hissing in delight as he lets the water run over his sore muscles, washing out the dye in his hair firstly so as not to get it on you and fortunately not making too much of a mess of blue dye in the tub. You’ve joined him in an instant when he’s nearly done, squeezing into the space in front of him as you shut the glass door behind you, the pane already beginning to fog and slick with droplets of condensation. He pulls you into him once more, nestling his chin on your shoulder as his hands come to wrap around you. They slide across your front, all wet and soapy, briefly gliding across your breasts, palms brushing against your nipples before traveling down to your navel.

“Congrats, baby,” You coo gently. “Twenty-four hours.”

He murmurs into your hair, “Missed you loads though.”

You turn to look at him finally, and it’s hard not to stare. Your eyes land firstly on his abdomen and the toned muscles there, trailing up to his arm and the pretty tattoos that decorate every inch of his skin, to his soft pink lips and his big eyes. Then, there’s the matter of his hair. The water has done most of the work in washing out the dye from his hair, now falling across his forehead and into his eyes and cheekbones, and it’s only then that you fully register the dye has worked as you struggle to find any remnants of his once-ebony-then-blonde locks. The blue hair is an obvious stark contrast to his natural hair and, you think, it is pretty, accentuating his radiant skin and making his eyes pop.

“I didn’t think you were actually serious all those times you said you wanted to change your hair.” Your lips are pursed as you survey him now, your fingers twirling a strand of his tresses around and around as you inspect it.

He smiles, catching your hand and pressing a quick peck to your knuckles. “Neither did I,” he admits sheepishly. “It sort of just happened.”

You pout. “I’m gonna miss your natural hair.”

“Do you really hate it blue?”

“I don’t hate it. Was more scared you’d ruin your pretty hair and make it all fall out.”

At this, Jungkook flashes you a cheeky smile. He holds his head a little higher. “So you still think my hair is pretty?”

“I think you’re a dork,” You clarify. “And, aside from the fact you almost gave me a heart attack, I’d say the blue is so pretty. Beyond pretty. Kinda hot, if I’m being honest.”

Because you’re not really mad, but it’s fun just to tease Jungkook and see his reactions. At the very least, he can sense this, as it’s apparent with the way his smile stretches even wider on his face.

“Hot, huh?”

“Mhm. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

He feigns a look of mock hurt. “Oh no. You must be really mad. Want me to make it up to you?”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, what do you want from me?”

You take a moment to think it over, but the answer is already obvious enough. It’s one that even he knows, and one that has won you over the moment Jungkook was freed from his stream. You hum aloud, “You, on your knees, head between my legs, like a good boy. Think I can get a better viewpoint of your hair from down there anyway before I judge it.”

“Like a good boy?” A dark smirk tugs at his face. “So now who’s the needy one?”

He lowers his head so that he’s leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your neck to your collarbones. As you let yourself get carried away for a moment, you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him backwards until you’re pressed up against the glass door. He ducks even lower, kissing just above your left breast and then catching your nipple between his teeth. You swallow thickly, rubbing your thighs together, reminding yourself to respond to him.

“It’s not my fault when you were busy for the past day,” You pout. “And the blue hair really is sexy.”

“Aha!” he straightens up in front of you suddenly, a crooked smug smile on his face. “So I’m not just hot. I’m sexy.”

“You’re literally always sexy. And beautiful too. It’s almost unfair.”

“That’s even better.”

You tug your fingers at his damp locks. When you speak, your voice is a mix between urgency and a whine. “Jungkook. I could’ve already gotten off with my hand at this point.”

“Ouch, feisty!” He pokes his fingers at your sides. Then, nipping a little more firmly on the soft skin of your breast, murmurs huskily, “Alright, alright. But only if you call me a good boy again.”

Part of him is taunting you, but there’s a small sliver of intrigue that makes the thought in his head and the pretty words on your tongue excite him to no end.

Still, you choose to entertain him, maybe a little drowsily and entirely consumed by him, “I will if you let me ride your face.”

A rumble of a chuckle resonates from him. You find him on his knees in the next moment, wedging himself between your thighs. He nudges one of your legs and you follow the wordless command, hitching one thigh over his shoulder as you settle back against the glass door of the shower. He kisses at your hips as he dips his head lower and lower to where you want him, before swiping his tongue at your cunt, tasting all of you at once.

“Mmm, Koo━” A soft whimper sounds from you, making his head swim.

He wastes no time in lapping at your folds, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his neck. The wetness that pools between your legs and on the tip of his tongue is a sticky mess that he basks in just a little longer.

“Fuck,” he groans into your pussy, “you taste so fucking good. Missed this so much.”

His hands are big as they come to hold you close, cradling your ass, your thighs, your hips, anything to pull you into him while simultaneously pushing your thighs further apart.

You manage to find your voice and quip weakly, “Missed me or having your head between my legs?”

“You, definitely,” he murmurs. He busies himself by reaching out with his thumb to press circles against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hips rutting into his face. “All of you.”

“Jungkook━ Fuck━”

He burrows further into you, humming in response. His nose brushes against your clit, the muscle of his tongue a pleasant wet that makes you warm all over. You give another experimental swivel of your hips, grinding against his tongue just right. He pinches at your hips as if to probe you onward, and then you do it again, and again, desperately rocking your hips back and forth against him. Your fingers reach out to grab a fistful of his hair, clutching it so tightly he hisses. But you’re right. The blue locks look dazzling between your legs, being pulled by your hands as you push him further into you.

His eyes meet yours from below your waist, hooded and idle, enjoying the view as you squirm and writhe above him, shamelessly riding his face. Grinding against his chin, nose, and tongue, the slick wetness you leave behind glistens on his skin.

“Ah, Koo━” You cry out. “Fuck, I’m gonna━!”

Your orgasm hits you violently, sending you keeling. Your hips continue with reckless abandon, and Jungkook presses his finger against your clit a little harder, a little faster. The abrupt gushing warmth between your thighs sends your mind spinning, as the steam from the shower and your panting breaths begin to fog the bathroom. When your hips begin to slow, Jungkook laps at the rest of your leaking core before pulling away with a grin brandishing his shimmering face. He lets you pull him up eagerly, clumsy hands fumbling to hold either side of his face as you tug at him.

“God, you’re so hot, babe,” he sighs wistfully, smothering your lips with his for an all too chaste kiss, before leaning in once more to nibble at your lower lip.

“Wanna feel you, Koo,” You prompt urgently. “Want you in me.”

Jungkook hastens to comply, his hands falling to your waist. “Go on, then. Turn around for me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You spin so that you’re facing the glass sliding door, your back to him. You watch him over your shoulder, momentarily admiring his well built stature, the tattoos that ink his body, and the water that shimmers on his skin. He has to push his wet hair up and away when it falls across his forehead and then he reaches down to grasp at his length, grip tight around his shaft so that he can pump himself sluggishly a few short times. It’s almost painful to watch him jerk himself off in front of you, the tip a burning red and glistening. He catches you staring and decides to catch you off guard when he grabs a hold of your hips with one hand. He yanks you towards him, your ass pressed firmly against his hips, making you jump from the startle, and grins when you look back at him.

Then, ever so slowly, he runs the length of his cock along your folds. Before you can brace yourself for the overwhelming rush of pleasure, he’s sliding his cock past your folds, burrowing into you deep. He curses behind you, his other hand flying out to steady himself by digging into your hip.

“Fffuck. Shit.” He dips his head so that his cheek is resting against your shoulder and sputters for air. “Jesus, fuck━ Been dying to feel you all day.”

He fits so snugly in you, so perfectly, just like always and you take him so well, coaxed by your own arousal. He ruts his hips forward into yours and you nearly fall forward before catching yourself by pressing your palms to the glass. Then, he’s grinding against you, small and precise thrusts that roll into your hips.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” you choke out. “You feel so━ So good.”

“Ah, shit,” he hisses. “Wanna wreck you so bad.”

He angles his chest a little more, pummels his dick into you in such a way that he’s hitting a different spot in you. His eyes stay fixated on the soft, round flesh of your ass and the way his cock slips so easily into you, brows screwed in concentration, jaw clenched. The slight bounce of your ass each time he rolls his hips firmly against you, the way you ricochet forward each time in tandem with his moves. You bow your head, pressing your temple against the glass door now tinted with condensation, only marked up by the imprints of your fingers grasping at anything. It’s almost sweltering hot in the shower now but you both pay no mind to it. He fucks into you with such languid, steady strides, cock beginning to throb and twitch in anticipation. You feel so wet, such a pitiless mess between your thighs already that it makes him growl.

“H-Harder,” You mewl. “Oh, Koo━”

He almost slips behind you in his eagerness to obey, awakening something animalistic in him, a yearning to just release all the tension in his core. This time, he adapts a measured pace, forceful thrusts that have you crying out in delight each time. One hand reaches up to grip at your shoulder to steady himself while his other slithers around your front to grasp at your breasts, all wet and supple, pinching at your nipples.

“So good,” he moans, pressing sloppy kisses just below your ear. His breath is hot as he pants behind you, sending tingles down your spine. “Fuck━”

His voice is cut off by a whine, hips bucking forward in an unsolicited manner as he feels his high drawing near. You lean your head onto his shoulder, stretching your arm out so that you can tug desperately at his hair. It’s a silent, simple command, but it’s one that he immediately understands even without you speaking.

“Wanna feel you━” You whimper. “Wanna see you.”

Jungkook nearly slips as he fumbles to pull out of you, hissing at the loss of warmth and friction. As soon as you’ve turned to face him, he wastes no time in closing the distance between you. He pushes his leaking cock past your folds once more and continues at the same pace as if he had never even stopped to begin with.

“Fuck,” he whines. “Not gonna last━”

You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him even closer to you, as he presses you against the glass. He hitches one of your thighs around his waist, spreading your legs just wide enough to hit a certain spot that has both of you crying out. You’re clinging so tightly to him, fingers digging harshly into his skin in an attempt to alleviate the building pressure you feel. He knows you’ve almost reached your end when you resort to a gasping, moaning mess, writhing beneath his broad stature.

“Close, baby?” he hums.

You open your mouth to respond but can only muster a whimper. His pace treads over to heedlessly frantic, the sound of skin against skin and the lewd wetness filling the shower. Despite his hips pounding into yours so harshly, his fingers flutter so delicately under your chin, grasping it and moving your head just enough so that you’re facing him.

“Lemme see you,” he grunts. “Wanna watch you when you cum all over my cock. Always so pretty.”

“I━ I’m━ Fuck, Koo━”

But you can’t finish your thought.

You keep your gaze fixated on Jungkook’s, however exhausted and weary it may be. Your lashes flutter, brows knit together, and you suck your lower lip between your teeth, biting so hard Jungkook’s certain you’ll bruise it. Another few hard thrusts and then you’re reaching your high, overcome by such an intense burning that you can’t help but look away out of instinct. You cry his name, face contorting in pure pleasure, and chest arching to meet his. You’re clenching so tightly around him has him sputtering for air, nearly collapsing entirely against you. You’re near dripping around his cock which only means he almost slips from you with each draw of his hips that he makes. It’s why he sloppily rocks his hips into yours, desperate to reach his own high as well.

When you return to your senses, blinking away your blurry vision, you can make out Jungkook cooing into your ear, “That’s it, baby. Doing so well.”

You meet his gaze once more, only this time you’re perhaps even more tired. Hooded eyes watch him, silently probing him to his climax. He comes tumbling towards it, a few more short thrusts of his hips and, finally, he’s there. He slams his hips up into yours one final time, crying out, and then he’s releasing into you in an overwhelming abrupt gush. Only he can’t quite enjoy it because, out of genuine accident and driven by impatience to just get off, the last jerk of his hips hits you a little too hard.

It’s what causes you to slip backward and he, so lost in his own reverie, hardly has a proper grip on you or where he’s standing. When you lose your footing beneath you, slipping on the wet porcelain of the tub, and comes crashing down, he’s brought along with you. “Oh, fuck━!”

The both of you yelp from the surprise, your hands flailing out to brace yourself for the fall.

Fortunately, you land on him when you reach the bottom of the tub, courtesy of him grabbing onto you last second so that he can soften the blow upon impact.

Unfortunately, the breath is knocked out of him from the startle and from the sudden added weight of you on top of him with no warning.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“In hindsight,” You wince as you shift your weight above him, “maybe having sex in the shower again wasn’t the greatest idea. Remember last time when we knocked the shower curtain down and I had to get stitches on my elbow? It’s why we got the glass door installed, and then we had to lie to Tae about it.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” He tilts his head back, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he flashes you an all too charming smirk. “Was kinda worth it though.”

You giggle, sounding so sweet and angelic, even despite the way his cum still leaks from you. Somewhere in the fall, his dick had slipped from you and now lays softening on his stomach which, really, is probably the worst part of the accident to him. He already misses the warmth of you wrapped around him, your mingling cum a dirty mess around him. You prop yourself up on his chest with your palms, but before you can even think to respond, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

A small mass of fur in the shape of little Yeontan has just poked his head through the crack in the door, oblivious to you and Jungkook’s compromising position. And then, shortly following behind him, is his equally oblivious owner who must have forgotten something in the apartment to bring him back so suddenly.

“Tannie, get back here━ We gotta go━ Oh, Jesus, what the fuck?” Taehyung appears at the door for a millisecond before noticing the situation he’s just stumbled upon. Thankfully, he acts fast, and clamps a hand over his tainted eyes, clumsily scooping up Yeontan in his other hand. “Can you guys please stop fucking all over this damn apartment? My son’s eyes are too pure for this!”

And then he’s retreating, but not before bumping blindly into the doorframe, grumbling along the way. It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook gawk at one another; then you hear Taehyung leave the apartment once more, and the both of you dissolve into a fit of unabashed laughter.

“Are you okay?” You ask once you’ve calmed down enough as he reaches out to shut the shower off. You plant a kiss in your boyfriend’s hair. “You hit your head coming down.”

Jungkook’s heart swells at your gentle touches and smiles. “I’m fine,” he promises brightly. “You?”

“Well, you did just thoroughly fuck me, so━” You shrug innocently. “I’m kinda still too giddy to even care.”

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he says. “For almost giving you a heart attack with my hair and for almost putting you in the emergency room again just now.”

The mention of his hair draws your attention to it once more. It’s not as wet as before, damp azure waves falling into his eyes that you brush away gingerly.

“Yeah,” You snort, “but I’ve decided I like your hair. Like, really like it.”

“Yeah?” he grins wide. “What was the deciding factor?”

You pause, as if to think for a moment. Exhaustion riddles your body and you know sleeping curled up next to Jungkook is nearing your future, but for now you let yourself entertain the last remnants of whatever lewd thoughts are still on yours and his minds before they fizzle away completely. You can’t help yourself anyway. The blue really is nice.

“Definitely the view of you eating me out,” You say. “And can’t forget how pretty it looks when I’m pulling at your hair.”

“Say no more,” he beams. “Then I’ll make it up to you by making you cum on my tongue again and again and again.”

The last thing he hears before he grabs at your cheek to softly pull you down to him for one last kiss, slow and ardent, is a bubbly giggle from you that delights him to no end.

“That’s a good boy.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years

Note

"Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time" (c) wait a second, so you think that he wasn't going to really take over or anything, just destroy the fuck out of w britain?

I have avoided this ask long enough.

I’ll start by saying that asking me about Tom Riddle is like staring down into a bottomless rabbit hole. We could travel down that path, but it is a dark and perilous journey, and by the end of it I will come out looking like the Mad Hatter.

It also requires a few prerequisites that you’re just going to accept as true (or else got off the crazy train here).

We know very little about Tom Riddle or Voldemort

What we do know of Tom Riddle comes to us from suspect sources

I’m just going to go out there and start with the basis that Tom is not crazy

Elaborating a little on number 1. We never actually see much of Tom Riddle or Voldemort directly. He’s a bit like Thanos in the MCU, or Palpatine in the first two movies of the Original Trilogy, he’s this looming threat that we pass by and glimpse every once in a while but never really get quality time with.

Generally, Voldemort makes an appearance in a moment of crisis.

He and Harry fight over the philosopher’s stone for Tom’s very survival. He and Harry fight over the diary for Tom’s very survival. He resurrects himself with Harry as a witness. We get those very strange dreams from Voldemort’s perspective (half of which we later learn are fabricated).

None of these really lend to our, or Harry’s for that matter, understanding of Tom Riddle. There’s too much going on, it usually happens far too fast, and there’s usually something Tom Riddle desperately wants or needs that eclipses all other concerns or else he has an audience.

This is part of the reason we get those Halfblood Prince pensieve lessons: Harry knows nothing of Tom Riddle and doesn’t understand him at all.

Which leads us, of course, to number 2, most of what we know about Tom Riddle comes from Dumbledore. I’ve talked about this before, so I won’t spend much time on it, but Dumbledore has a very clear agenda in relaying these memories to Harry. Dumbledore already has strong suspicions of what objects are horcruxes and where they’re located, he already has Snape as a very reliable agent to continue work when he’s gone, his job here is to convince Harry there is no path but suicide. And that involves portraying Tom Riddle as the most evil man who ever eviled, was born eviler than the antichrist, and will die eviler than the antichrist.

Now, does this make Tom necessarily good or bad? No.

However, it does mean when Dumbledore tells us things like, “See, Harry, an impoverished child was upset when I lit all his belongings on fire! What a monster!” (especially given that, in a similar situation, Harry thought it was hilarious when Hagrid gave Dudley a permanent physical deformity and Harry was told he was an angel child) we should take it with a very large grain of salt.

Right, so, with all that backdrop what I’m getting at is that a) we can’t take Dumbledore at his word b) even if we could he could be wrong c) Harry doesn’t have the introspection to be able to figure himself when a or b is happening. I won’t elaborate on this last much, suffice to say that Harry’s world is very black and white, divided into the camps of those who personally like him and those who don’t.

So, why do I think Tom’s goal was not to rule the wizarding world but instead to destroy it?

A few things.

First, there are so many easier ways he could have ended up ruling the wizarding world. More, even when he effectively does rule the wizarding world in book seven, he takes very strange actions so that he’s never directly in power.

Second, I never really bought Tom’s racism. It’s too convenient and too contradictory with his backstory.

The second first, because we’re going out of order today. I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t believe Tom had minions early and I think he was effectively treated as a muggleborn (see here and here) until he took on the Voldemort persona many decades later. I’m hard pressed to believe someone as intelligent, angry, and proud as Tom Riddle would willingly believe and accept he was inferior to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy. More, even if he wished he was a halfblood, I think the evidence of him being muggleborn would be stacked too high against him to deny even to himself (and when he finds out it’s not true, he has maybe a month or so before he realized that he’s the bastard son of a squib).

And it’s just so convenient. All the people with the power, with the money, who are itching for a cause against a threat that doesn’t really exist believe in blood purity. Ergo, Voldemort shows up suddenly espousing over the top blood purity rhetoric (rhetoric that directly clashes with his “there is only power” philosophy at that).

In other words, I think Tom Riddle gave himself a line that he knew would get him places very quickly.

And now for the first. For a guy who has had the entire country in the palm of his hands twice, one time taking it over in a bloodless coup, he’s really big on causing collateral damage and really small on actually doing the ruling thing.

The first wizarding war, Tom Riddle as Voldemort has the backing of the heirs of the most prestigious and wealthy noble houses save a select few. These are people with seats in the Wizengamot, which has a frightening control over the government itself (including the minister of magic). I imagine, in 1980 had Tom Riddle wanted to be elected as Minister of Magic, he would have been elected as Minister of Magic. If he wanted a friendly face in office then he probably could have made that happen to.

More than even this though, by this point, Tom had already won. By having control over the majority of the Wizengamot he owns the government. He’s done, it’s over, it’s finished, and many of the characters admit as much which is why Harry Potter was such a miracle. So why all the seemingly random, exceptionally pointless, terrorism?

One answer is that Voldemort is crazy bananas. And sure, I guess we can go with that, except for someone insane he’s oddly effective and very consistent.

I believe Tom was systematically destroying the very foundations of the country through its core aristocratic families. Within a few short years Tom decimates the Black family, it goes from having five heirs to none, and while some of this isn’t Tom’s fault he does take care of quite a few of them. He brands Lucius for life, while Lucius rises high in politics he never escapes the stigma of being a known Death Eater and in the end cannot escape the consequences for his actions. The Malfoy family is very nearly destroyed by the end of the series, had Draco died in the Fiendfyre. The LeStrange family, presumably decimated as well.

More, this is mostly me headcanoning, but I imagine Tom fuels an extremism that the Wizarding World had never contemplated. I imagine, previously, anti-muggleborn sentiment was probably fairly rampant among purebloods. Oh, some were very pro-muggleborn I’m sure, but I think most were fairly “eh” on the people and felt they were a drain on society (such as requiring constant funding for the obliviation department).

However, when Diagon Alley starts getting blown up every other week, when muggleborns start being tortured and murdered, when purebloods who aren’t anti-muggleborn enough are being tortured and murdered, this starts wigging people out in a way they’ve never wigged out before.

By the time we get to Harry Potter’s canon, it is now only a minority that are anti-muggleborn, and they’re perceived as raving lunatics. Nobody wants to be grouped with these people. Which, just goes to show, how much Voldemort rattles the wizarding world in a very small amount of time.

Then there’s Deathly Hallows, rather than become minister himself Voldemort installs a puppet minister. He shows no signs of wishing to change this and instead does things like destroy the sorting hat (which again shakes the very foundations of the wizarding world as whta will we do if we don’t know who’s a Gryffindor anymore?!)

So, where is this ramble going?

Given the results we see, that more than any others it seems to be the purebloods and often Tom’s own followers that suffer colossal losses, I think Tom’s actions are, in part, a means of vengeance against the entire damn wizarding world (but especially the purebloods).

He makes fools of these people, brands them as his slaves, and has them participate in the most over the top ridiculous rituals (the cloaks, the masks, the entire theatrics of it feels like Tom got drunk one night and planned this whole thing out). He destroys them entirely, and better, enables them to completely destroy themselves and the country they believe they’re trying to save.

Basically, I think by the time the series begins Tom is fueled by a nihilist rage that knows no bounds. But dammit all, the wizarding world is going to burn.

#ask #tom riddle #voldemort #anon

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pirates-pirates-pirates · 2 years

Text

Burning Out

This is a very dark piece, I have been having bad mental health for awhile now and needed to get it out, get my feelings out with something like this and I relate to Ace to an extent so he kinda had to bare the brunt of my emotions and feelings with this one.

TW: selfharm - suicide - mental health Ace centric piece. N/SFW Word count: 1,200

Burning Out

Ace had trouble understanding his emotions. He couldn’t tell where the anger ended, and the sadness began. Running alongside each other, sometimes seamlessly, waves of emotion that threatened to drown him. They burned through him in equal measures, burning hotter than the flames he could conjure.

The words he spat when filled with rage eclipsed all other emotions. Ace weaponised it much like the scorching heat and flames that exploded around him. His body was an inferno of pain for others that matched the wildfire of self-hatred that boiled him alive on the inside.

There was a time he could only feel anger; the heat that consumed him, forced his hands into fists and turned his lips into a sneer, eyes narrowed. He’d throw a punch if you looked at him wrong, the anger that swelled inside him that laid in wait, ready to gobble him up whole.

He later realised the sadness that ebbed through him had always been there. He was just too young to understand the difference. When you are told all your entire life you don’t deserve to live, that you’re a monster, you start to believe it.

Rage can bubble and boil, but no one told him how it can merge, change, or shift into something worse. When he was so tired of hating the world that wronged him, a father he couldn’t scream at, a loss that he couldn’t have stopped, then that anger was blown back by the icy breeze of doubt, the fire changing direction, turned inward instead.

It was an infection that grew with each negative thought, always backed up by the cruel words of strangers that didn’t know him. Word by word, another wound festered and grew, chipping away at his self-esteem.

Ace didn’t know at what point despair and hate had become one with sharp nails dug into his heart, piercing him with each passing year.

It didn’t matter what people thought of Ace now, the damage had already been done, and the rot had started too long ago for him to stop now. He couldn’t erase it, couldn’t patch the hole that had already started to sink him.

Still, his heart held onto the anger and pain. Even with people who loved him, Ace still couldn’t allow himself to think he was worthy of it. He would stare into the darkness each night, telling himself that everyone would leave him if they knew who he really was.

There were countless sleepless nights as Ace battled his toughest opponent, himself. It’s funny Ace thought to himself, tears of sorrow and tears of frustration all taste the same, the thought passed through him as he sobbed, feeling wet streaks running down his freckled cheeks, body heaving, lips trembling as tears collected in the corner of his mouth.

Time carried on, yet the feelings never ceased to itch beneath the surface. If only he could scratch that niggle. His ability left him unable to dig it out, to reach the satisfaction of punishing himself for crimes he was made to believe he’d committed.

Lines never tainted freckled skin as the fire was all the sharp edge of his dagger could purchase. His power didn’t allow for the act of self mutilation, automatically protecting its vessel.

When a person gave themselves no value and put no worth on their own life they lacked self-preservation and desired to prove themselves to the world no matter what. Taking on Whitebeard had been a mistake, Ace was nowhere as strong, nowhere as collected or seasoned as the old man.

Whitebeard wasn’t just miles ahead of Ace in fighting prowess, he also had years on him, a life experience that Ace could only dream of. Edward had seen the fire in the boy’s eyes and with each swing, every exploding flame of Ace’s, he knew this was a child hurting. A child who’d felt so much pain already.

He needed guidance, and a steady hand. Most of all, Ace needed love. Ace was so close to burning himself out, flickering into ash, to scatter across the ocean before he had a chance to reach his full potential. Whitebeard took the boy in; he was fragile and so close to being snuffed out due to his own overzealous need to prove himself.

Ace didn’t see it that way. He seethed, he fumed, and he hated everything all over again.

—--

One night he sat alone, gazing up at the sky, bringing a bottle of whiskey to his lips and gulping down the burning liquid like it was water. Ace blinked his eyes a few times, ignoring the merrymaking he could hear from where he sat.

How dare they be so happy? Ace tsked loudly, contempt rolling off of him in waves. Crashing against his mood, unstable and weakened. He’d never seen a family as big as this nor as happy as the Whitebeards seemed.

Another bottle down, kicking it across the deck with a pitiful growl of unbridled frustration. He didn’t deserve to be here; he wasn’t worth the time of day. He could never be part of their lives. He shouldn’t have been alive; he shouldn’t have ever been born.

With those thoughts in mind, tears blurred his vision as another bottle of whiskey was uncapped, and the contents swallowed greedily.

Ace’s breathing became unsteady as he grasped the hilt of his dagger, unsheathing it with morbid intent. Flashes from the past, and voices that had marked his mind echoed. He sniffled as a shaking hand came closer and he exposed his wrist. Tears dripped from his face, landing on the deck like raindrops.

“I don’t deserve to live, I’m worthless.” He choked out between sobs.

Ace's heart hammered in his chest and he told himself be brave, you can do this, if you can do just one thing right in your life, let it be this. He was glad for the seastone he’d stolen from somewhere on the ship, he couldn’t have his ability activate and stop him.

Taking a breath, the dagger met skin; the sharp pain barely registered past his drunken haze. Digging deeper, he dragged it across his vein.

Red, red ran down his arm, and a serene smile graced his lips as he closed his eyes, relaxing with each pulse he felt, as blood poured from the wound.

“Ace!”

His eyes shot open, Marco knelt at his side, hands gripping his wrist. Blood stained his hands as blue—the most beautiful blue Ace had ever seen– licked across his cuts, pulling the skin back together and the bloodstream dissipated. Ace looked up, making eye contact with him.

Marco’s brows furrowed, but didn't let go as the phoenix tsked before pulling him against his chest, holding him close.

“Ace, please. Don’t waste your life like this yoi.” Marco’s worried tone penetrated something deep within Ace.

Tears cascaded down his face as he gripped Marco’s shirt and sobbed, breaking piece by piece in the man’s arms. Ace whispered something, so softly under his breath but Marco still heard.

“Give me a chance, please,” Marco pleaded, voice hushed as he cradled Ace softly.

#portgasdace #portgas d ace #ace d portgas #fire fist ace #ace one piece #n.sfw #tw: sh mention #tw: depression

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

Nie Huaisang is the cutest thing monsters have ever seen, they can be yao dragons or giant turtles one look at nhs and they want to feed hug or kidnapt him nmj trainning involved recovering his baby brother from every monsters nest around qinge

ao3

“I’m sorry,” Nie Mingjue said, his teeth gritted together and his arms shaking from the strain of holding Baxia up. “He’s mine.”

The massive tiger glared down at him over Baxia’s blade, currently stuck in its teeth, and growled something.

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. His legs were shaking now, too. “I know, trust me, I know! I’m human, he’s – young, yes, yes, I know. But he’s my little brother! I’m not giving him up!”

The tiger spat out the blade, knocking Nie Mingjue backwards on his ass.

“And when you change your mind?” the tiger demanded. “Will you abandon him then?”

“No!” Nie Mingjue exclaimed. “Never! He’s my brother!”

“Mark your words,” the tiger said ominously. “Or else.”

It turned and stalked off, its tail waving arrogantly in the air, until its towering white form disappeared into the distance.

Nie Mingjue sighed in relief. “Huaisang?” he called, and a small head popped out of the nest the tiger had started building, blinking owlishly at him. “Come on, come to da-ge. It’s time to go home.”

“But Master Tiger said we were going to play…”

“Yes, well, he wanted to play for too long,” Nie Mingjue said. “Only a few centuries, give or take. Let’s go.”

It started back when Nie Huaisang was born.

No, more accurately, it started when Nie Mingjue’s father fell in love with someone he probably oughtn’t have, which according to the sect was not a terribly uncommon problem for him to have, and decided to bring home a bride.

Nie Mingjue could still remember the first time he’d seen the Second Madame Nie. They’d all been lined up to greet her, all the sect and close members of the clan in rows according to rank, Nie Mingjue fidgeting in the inside of the house proper in his first tangle with formal clothing outside of the discussion conferences. She had come sweeping in with her head held as high as a princess, seductive and bewitching.

Every movement had been perfect, the eyes of all the men fogging over in lust and the women in admiration – or visa versa, depending on their personal preferences – and a wicked smile had lit up her face when she had stepped across the threshold, officially becoming the sect leader’s wife, and maybe everything would have gone along with whatever plan she’d had back then if she hadn’t next seen him.

“Oh, look at you,” she exclaimed, rushing over to pinch Nie Mingjue’s cheeks between her hands. “What a delectable little morsel you are!”

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue said, staring up at her with big round somewhat-worried eyes.

“You charming little dumpling,” she said. “You adorable mouthful of meat! Spoonful of egg yolk!”

Nie Mingjue cast his eyes around to see if anyone would be willing to help him.

“My eldest son,” Nie Mingjue’s father said, not without pride – albeit perhaps a puzzled sort of pride. “He’s probably just about old enough to come to the forecourt, if you don’t want him to live with you –”

“Oh no,” she said. “He’s definitely living with me.”

And so she stayed, and Nie Mingjue stayed with her, and she doted on him in a way he found pleasant if mildly disconcerting. Within a year, she was pregnant, and irritated with it; six months after that, she was round and complaining, even though Nie Mingjue solemnly assured her that she was as beautiful as ever.

“This is your fault, you know,” she told him, and he blinked at her. “It is! Don’t get me wrong, your father’s a charming bull when he wants to be, and of course he fucks like a champion stud, but I stayed here for you, my little cabbage roll, my charming chunk of liver.”

She patted her belly.

“That means this here is all because of you. So you’d better take responsibility!”

Nie Mingjue considered the issue for a little. The argument seemed plausible, so he raised his hands and put them on her rounded stomach. “I will take care and watch over him for all my life,” he vowed, and the baby inside kicked his hand in response, sealing the pact.

“Oh you are so cute,” she said, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “My darling pork bun! My little fish cake! I could eat you right up, if only you were just a little bit older!”

When Nie Huaisang was born, she disappeared in a welter of blood, but Nie Mingjue’s oath remained.

The trouble started after that.

“You can’t raise a cub like that properly,” the winged lion argued, bating its wings as if that would help it make its point better.

Nie Mingjue glared at him. “Watch me!”

“It’s for your own good, little human. He needs his own kind –”

“I’m not listening to a treasure-seeker!”

The lion scowled at him. “I’ll have you know that most humans think I’m good luck!”

“You’re not trying to steal most humans’ little brothers, are you?!”

The winged lion sighed, a deep sound, so very noble and long-suffering that Nie Mingjue couldn’t resist the urge to lift his foot and kick the lion right in the paw.

“Brat!”

“Don’t care!” he shouted. “You leave my brother alone! He’s my responsibility, not yours! Piss off!”

“You can’t even feed him properly -”

“I’ll figure it out!” Nie Mingjue bared his teeth and wished he was old enough for a saber.

“You little…fine. Fine! I’ll bring you a book on how to feed a huli jing kit, and you keep to it, you hear me?”

“I will,” Nie Mingjue said. “But don’t you even think of taking him away!”

“On your own head be it,” the winged lion grumbled. “Not everyone’s as understanding as me.”

“Why are you wet?” Nie Mingjue’s father asked him.

“Water monkeys,” Nie Mingjue said shortly. “There was a nest.”

“Water monkeys? Don’t they normally stay away from people…? Or, I suppose, were these ones feral?”

“Thieves.”

“Ah. Well, nothing to be done about it, I suppose…bad luck for you to run into them here, of all places. But good experience! How many people your age can say that they fought water monkeys?”

“Can we go home?” Nie Mingjue asked, a little plaintively, and rubbed his nose. “How much can you really have to say to the Jiang sect, anyway?”

His father chuckled. “More than either of us would like, unfortunately. But if you’ve had enough of water, which no one can blame you for, maybe you and Huaisang can go shopping in the pier instead?”

That would work, Nie Mingjue thought, and nodded happily.

(Sect Leader Jiang was extremely embarrassed about the ghostly rats in the night-market – he claimed they’d never seen neither nose nor tail of them before the Nie brothers had accidentally tripped over their trap and had to flee from the swarm...)

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nie-er-gongzi,” the white-clad cultivator from the mountain said, smiling broadly and saluting deeply.

Xiao Xingchen had made himself famous during his first half-dozen night-hunts alone for his extraordinary grace, bearing and strength, and he said he was on a mission to help the world. He was beautiful, virtuous, and matched each ideal of gentlemanly arts.

Sects throughout the cultivation world were drooling at the thought of enticing him to join them, fighting for the opportunity to put in a good word with him.

Not all sects.

Nie Mingjue stepped forward, purposely putting Nie Huaisang behind him.

“Don’t you even think about it,” he said, hand on the hilt of his saber. “Buzz off, birdbrain.”

Xiao Xingchen might wear white, but Nie Mingjue knew a zhuque chick when he saw one.

“I found something for my aviary, da-ge!” Nie Huaisang, seven years old and delighted with his clumsy autonomy, announced.

Nie Mingjue, less than a full year into his new role as sect leader, rubbed his eyes. “Oh?” he asked, only somewhat wanting to scream endlessly into the void, which was better than usual. “That’s nice, Huaisang…”

“Come look! It’s so pretty!”

“I’m a bit busy –”

“But da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue sighed and got up, following Nie Huaisang to the door only to come to a complete stop.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said to the fenghuang currently pretending to be a rooster in a cage, as if anyone would actually mistake phoenix flames for regular feathers. “Do you have no dignity left?!”

“You can’t adopt the bashe,” Nie Mingjue said to Nie Huaisang, who pouted. “It eats elephants; we’d be broke within three months.”

He turned to the giant python.

“You can’t adopt Huaisang,” he said. “I will literally murder you.”

“Why can’t I go watch the eclipse?” Nie Huaisang complained. “Everyone else is going!”

“I’m not risking a tiangou.”

“The…dog that eats the sun? Really, da-ge, is that even real?”

“You know what,” Nie Mingjue said, “you’re grounded just for saying that.”

Nie Huaisang grinned.

“Maybe I want to go and live among the qilin!” Nie Huaisang screamed, fourteen and hormonal about it.

“Well you don’t get a choice!” Nie Mingjue bellowed back.

“You’re not my father! I don’t have to listen to what you say!”

“I’m your fucking sect leader and yes you do!”

“I hate you!”

“I don’t care if you hate me! You still aren’t going to go live in a field with some magic pointy deer and that’s final!”

The qilin herd wisely chose to withdraw.

“Da-ge,” Jin Guangyao hissed, and Nie Mingjue looked up from his work at him – he hadn’t heard Meng Yao this upset since he’d shoved him into a closet to get him out of way during the whole dangkang boar hunt debacle. “Da-ge, there’s a dragon outside.”

“Again?” Nie Mingjue said, standing up to stretch and feeling oddly unbalanced. They’d just finished another session with the song of Clarity, so he really shouldn’t be feeling like this; he would need to write to Lan Xichen again about his fears that the treatment really wasn’t working. Lan Xichen would probably only say to give it more time, another chance, but still… “Let me go talk to them. Dragons are the worst.”

“No, da-ge, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said. “It’s not a water-serpent or – or even a jiaolong – it’s a dragon.”

“A flood-dragon is a type of dragon,” Nie Mingjue said, following Jin Guangyao outside. “You know that, it’s in the name, what’s the big – oh, I see. It’s a celestial dragon.”

Jin Guangyao glared at him with an expression suggesting that he was under-reacting, but Nie Mingjue really didn’t have the capacity in him to reach with appropriate fervor at the moment. He and Nie Huaisang had been fighting a lot recently, every little thing escalating into a giant argument, and he was no longer sure if he was doing the right thing in trying to force Nie Huaisang onto the path of his ancestors. After all, unlike Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang had – somewhat different ancestors, on his maternal side.

And, he supposed, Nie Huaisang was old enough to decide otherwise, if he truly wished…

Still, Nie Mingjue was as stubborn as a mule and had no intention of giving up his baby brother without a fight, so he braced himself and went over to the frankly massive creature draped over the entrance gateway and much of the training yard that the entirety of the Nie sect was doing its utmost best to pretend that they weren’t seeing.

Nie Huaisang was sitting on the thing’s five claws – an imperial celestial dragon, apparently – because of course he was.

“Excuse me,” Nie Mingjue called up to the dragon, which turned its head to regard him, an entire production that took nearly a quarter ké to accomplish. “The brat there is mine, please return him.”

“Da-ge!” Jin Guangyao hissed again, but Nie Mingjue waved him away.

“You have raised him well,” the dragon said, which was…a good deal nicer than most of these interactions usually went.

“…thanks?” Nie Mingjue said suspiciously, ignoring Jin Guangyao’s splutters of “It talks?!” “I think?”

“I have chosen to grant you a boon,” the dragon announced.

“…right,” Nie Mingjue said. “If this ‘boon’ is that you’ll take him off my hands, I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse. He may be trouble, but he’s still my brother.”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, indignant. “Don’t be rude. I asked him for this!”

Nie Mingjue frowned at him, unable to resist the feeling of hurt even though he’d already told himself to expect something like this. “…you want to leave?”

“No, da-ge, don’t be ridiculous. I asked him to improve your health!”

Ah.

“Huaisang –” he started to say.

“Don’t you ‘Huaisang’ me!” his little brother shouted. “I know you’re trying to hide it, but it’s getting worse, isn’t it? San-ge told me so! He said I should get ready!”

Nie Mingjue made a mental note to strangle Jin Guangyao, who had no right to say something like that to Nie Huaisang even if maybe it wasn’t the worst idea in the world to emotionally prepare Nie Huaisang for the upcoming bereavement and inheritance he would need to face.

“Anyway, he said to get ready, so I did!”

“You can’t just ask a divine dragon to fix me, Huaisang. That’s not how this works.”

“Uh, it totally does, and I did, and he agreed. So there!”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms and glared. “And what did he want in return?”

“The boon is a reward for your past merit, not a trade for the deeds of the future,” the dragon said, not even slightly hiding how its whiskers were shaking with suppressed laughter. “You have travelled a difficult road, and borne the weight of it well. And besides…”

“Besides?”

“If you were to die, he would undoubtedly petition the creatures of the underworld to return you.”

“Well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said, having not considered that. “Fine. Whatever. Heal me and I’ll try to keep an eye on my health going forward.”

Maybe more Clarity? He could try to free up his schedule, get in a few more sessions…

“I just give up,” Jin Guangyao said behind him. “I just fucking give up.”

Nie Mingjue, assuming that he was talking about Nie Huaisang’s nonsense, agreed whole-heartedly.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #nie huaisang's mom #my fic #my fics #child development #same headcanons as three times the charm #Anonymous

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awkward-and-indecisive · 3 years

Text

First Day Assistance.

Summary - Y/N is new on The Boys set, nervous and determined to do her job right until she meets Jensen Ackles and her mouth loses its filter so he decides to teach her a good lesson.

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Warnings - SMUT 18+, Unprotected sex (y’all are better than this), Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of fluff, Jensen in that damn Soldier Boy suit, this is just pure filth with no plot in sight

Word Count - 2547

A/N - Blame @msmarvelouswinchester for this and of course Mr. Jensen Snackles who I’m pretty sure wants to kill me. Apparently this is what she and I do, put thoughts into each other’s head until we can’t do anything but write them. Till three in the morning🤦🏽‍♀️

This was also Beta’d by @msmarvelouswinchester , so double thank you 😘

This is a work of fiction and for entertainment purposes. I don’t mean any harm to anyone in their family.

This is my first ever fic so please tell me what you think about it. FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

Happy Reading!!!

*****

It was your first day on the set of The Boys and you were excited for this new opportunity. You had to start small with being a P. A. but now you were looking forward to working on the third season of such an amazing show. You were ready to work hard and were determined to make it big in the industry.

But all those plans flew straight out the window when you looked at Jensen fucking Ackles in his Soldier Boy suit looking like a sex god. You probably had stopped breathing and only inhaled sharply when you became a little lightheaded. Your thighs squeezed together, your pussy clenched and you could feel wetness pooling between your legs.

It was rather directly proportional - the dampness of your panties and the amount of time you looked at him. The more you stared at all the little details, the more wet you became. You knew it was highly unprofessional to have such thoughts about one of the leading actors but it was like your body had stopped listening to you and all the rational and moral thoughts had ceased to have any effect on you.

The way the muscles of his broad shoulders rippled underneath the spandex of his suit as he moved. The way the suit gave a little peek of his neck. The way his freckles shone through the little peek. The way his shoulder to waist ratio fucked you up. The way that knife holster on his hip made you go feral with lust. The way you wanted to come undone on those fingerless gloves till you couldn’t anymore. The way that suit hugged his curves, especially that perky ass.

You were busy thirsting like a dehydrated bitch in the middle of the Sahara, lost in your own filthy thoughts for who knows how long, when a snapping noise brought you back to the land of living. You blinked a few times to clear your head of its dirty thoughts and blurry vision. When you looked back up, you saw Jensen Snackles, as Sony Pictures had oh so proudly named him, standing in front of you and snapping his fingers.

Confusion flooded your expressions but before you could open your mouth to ask what he wanted, he cut you off, “Do we have a problem here, miss? Is there something on my face or what? Because you keep staring at me and I can’t do my job like that!” He said in an annoyed tone.

That’s when you looked around and saw that the set was deserted except for you and the Adonis. The director must have called for a break if there were too many bad takes. You felt a little guilty for wasting everyone’s time but before you could apologise, he cut you off again, “There she goes again. What is going on inside your head?” He clipped, waving a hand in front of your face.

You didn’t know what it was. The pent up sexual frustration of not having had sex in months or how rudely Snackles here was constantly cutting you off, with the fact that no one should look like that or that you couldn’t get your mind off of him but you snapped at him.

“Listen Mr. Sna- Mr. Ackles, firstly, I don’t have a problem with you and I’m not staring at you and secondly, you are not letting me work and are distracting me.” You quipped.

You knew in an instant you were fired for the way you had talked to him but now that you had spoken your mind and the words had left your mouth, you couldn’t take them back. So you decided to stand your ground.

“I am not letting you work?!” He scoffed, cocking one of his eyebrows.

“Yes!! You think it’s easy for me to concentrate when you roam around looking like sex on legs.” You said, waving a hand up and down his body.

Your eyes widened and your hand flew to your mouth when you heard the words that had left your mouth. A cocky smirk grew on his face and he took a step forward as you mirrored his move in the opposite direction.

“I think that implies you were staring at me.” He chuckled, stepping forward again until your back hit the wall and the clipboard and the walkie you had in your hands fell. You were caged by him against the wall, looking like a prey meeting the eyes of its predator just before it’s death.

You looked down, too ashamed and weak to meet his burning gaze. You turned your head towards the exit and said, “I’m sorry Mr. Ackles. I should leave.”

“Nuh-uh,” he tutted, “Sex on legs huh?” He asked cockily.

He was dangerously close to you. You could feel his warm breath fanning over your face. You let out an involuntary whimper and if it was possible, his face turned more cocky.

“What other thoughts swim around in that pretty little head of yours Miss..” he trailed off, his hand coming to push a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

You cleared your throat before half whispering and half whimpering, “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.” He said, gruffly, as if trying to see how it would sound from his mouth and god did it sound so sinful. “Interesting name but I guess it makes up for your interesting personality. So as I was saying, what other thoughts about me do you have? Other than sex on legs of course.”

You couldn’t focus enough to reply as you were busy staring at his plump lips and that goddamn beard that gave you all kinds of thoughts you wouldn’t think in your wildest dreams.

“You’re staring again, sweetheart.” He chuckled and the vibrations of it could be felt by you as he pressed his body to yours and caged you between his arms that you knew from his Instagram video he had spent some time working on.

You instantly looked up into his gorgeous green orbs and found yourself lost in them. You opened your mouth a few times but nothing came out, looking like a fish out of the water. Words had left you. It was like a small child trying to speak but not knowing how to.

He closed the distance between his mouth and your ear and growled, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?”

Your whole body shuddered and you pushed your thighs together to get some much needed friction. Jensen seemed to notice your reaction and pushed his thigh between your legs.

“Oh so that’s what this is about. I see nobody has fucked this tight, little pussy in a while and that’s why you’re snapping at people and undressing me with your eyes.” He said in a low, deep voice that had your pussy clenching around nothing.

A wave of arousal flooded your panties and you knew they were ruined a long time ago but now it felt like they had simply disintegrated.

He continued, “But don’t you worry, unfortunately I know what it feels like and I think I would very much like to help you with that.” He winked and if it wasn’t for the wall and him caging you in, your knees would have buckled and you would be a horny mess on the floor.

You noticed your breathing had become heavier and your lips had parted, your hands were balled in fists at your sides, your pussy throbbed in need and your whole body was shaking with lust and desire.

Jensen leaned down to look into your eyes and spoke softly, “Hey, if you don’t want this tell me right away.”

That seemed to snap you out of your sensory overload and you quickly nodded frantically.

“I want this. I want you to fuck me, Jensen.” You sputtered quickly before he could take his offer back.

The moment your consent reached his ears, the beautiful greens of his eyes were eclipsed by the black clouds of lust. He crashed his lips on yours in a bruising kiss that was all teeth and tongue. It was driven by pure lust and need and want and desire.

His hands were on you pushing and pulling and mapping out your entire body. Everything felt too much and not enough at the same time. When the need for air became too much you both parted, panting like you had just ran a marathon. He pushed his partly gloved hands underneath your jumper and pulled it off you leaving your upper body in the black tank top you were wearing.

His mouth moved towards your jaw, nipping and nibbling at the skin there while his hands squeezed your ass. His mouth went to your neck, to the spot behind your ear that drove you wild and sucked. And oh god did he suck hard. You were pretty sure you’d be sporting a big purple hickey but you couldn’t care less.

He kissed the valley of your breasts and suckled one of your clothed nipples as your back arched off the wall and you shamelessly let out a loud moan. He pushed your tank top up as he kneeled down, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

He pushed your leggings and your panties down in one go and both of you were shocked. You, to see that your panties hadn’t disintegrated and him, to see how wet you were. He looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and before you could comprehend what it meant, he dove inside your pussy like a starving man.

He let out a groan when he tasted you, gripping your thighs so tight that you were sure there'd be bruises there. You tangled your hands in his hair, keeping him in place but also giving yourself something to hold on to.

All your wet dreams and imaginations didn’t do justice to how delicious the burn of his beard felt between your thighs. He fucked you with his tongue and then went on to suck at your clit like a child sucking an ice lolly after playing for hours in the summer heat.

To say that you were a panting, moaning, whimpering, writhing and blubbering mess would be an understatement. You were at the mercy of this man’s mouth and you thanked your lucky stars for it. One of his hands left your thigh and came to encircle your core. Desperate to come, you started grinding on his face.

He pushed two of his thick fingers in and groaned at how easily they fit cause you were practically dripping at this point. He fucked you on his fingers hard all the while nibbling and sucking your clit. He moved up your body till he was face to face with you all the while thrusting his fingers into you at a merciless pace.

He crashed his lips on yours and pushed his tongue inside your mouth. You moaned at tasting yourself on his tongue. He moved his talented mouth towards your ear and nibbled on the lobe.

“You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Come on Y/n. Come for me.” He whispered in your ear.

Like he had a remote control to your body, you came. And you came so hard that you saw stars. Your vision went white, your body went slack and you felt like you were filled to the brim with pleasure.

When you came back to your senses, the first thing you felt was his cock, hard and heavy, lined with your core, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass supporting your weight and crushing you between his body and the wall. He looked at you to see if there was any hint of discomfort but when he couldn’t find any, he kissed you while pushing his cock deep inside you.

You had to admit that he was bigger than any guy you’ve been with and the stretch was just oh so good. He kissed you, nibbling on your lower lip til you got used to his girth. You clawed at his shoulders and the now not so short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Fu-uck Jensen. Move please. F-fuck me.” You begged not caring how desperate you sounded.

Jensen let out an animalistic growl upon hearing your words and pulled all the way out, only leaving the tip in and slammed back into you in one thrust. You let out a cry when his cock hit your g-spot with fucking precision.

He kept up his deadly pace, pounding into you so hard you were sure you’d feel it for days, that had the coil in your lower belly wound tight in no time. He hid his face in the crook of your neck. Only the sounds of his heavy breathing and grunts ,which to be honest should be illegal, and your moans and panting could be heard around the large set.

“Look at you,” He grunted in your ear, “taking my cock so good. You’re so tight. Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but clench your pussy hearing those words pouring out of his mouth.

“I’m not gonna last long. Come for me one more time Y/n. Come on my cock. Squeeze it.” He grunted, pushing one of his hands between your bodies and rubbing rough circles on your clit.

You came with a scream of his name. Your orgasm was so fucking intense that you knew in that moment no one will ever be able to make you come so hard other than this man. He fucked you through your orgasm. A few hard thrusts later he stilled deep inside you and came with a grunt that you’d remember till the day you die. He spilled hot ropes of cum and you milked his cock for all its worth.

When you both came down from your highs, you untangled yourselves from each other and cleaned yourselves the best you could. You quickly and quietly got dressed, the air filling with awkwardness.

When you got dressed, you bent down to pick up your stuff which had fallen and turned to leave when suddenly Jensen caught your wrist and turned you around so that now he was caged between you and the wall. He kissed you and it was all sweet and soft this time while you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your body into his.

“Don’t you dare think this was a one time thing. You and me. Dinner at my place at 8. Sounds good?” He asked, sincerely and sweetly.

Your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth to reply but before you could the walkie in your hand came to life and a voice sounded from the other end, “Jensen Ackles is needed now at the wardrobe. Jensen Ackles is needed now at the wardrobe.”

“Looks like I have to go.” Jensen said and pecked your lips once.

He walked backwards and shouted, “My place at 8. Don’t forget.” He gave you a wink before finally going out of your sight.

You stood there confused as to what had just happened in the last hour of your life.

*****

#jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x you #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #supernatural #jensen ackles #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester #jensen fic #jensen ackles fic #rpf #smut #spn rpf #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #spn fic

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angellesword · 4 years

Text

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (SPECIAL CHAPTER)

⇒ a glimpse of life with Jeon Jeongguk now that you can see colors.

Pairing: Dad!Jungkook x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre/Warnings: established relationship au, fluff, soulmate au.

Note: This is a special chapter for YOUR EYES TELL so it contains spoiler from said fic.

drabble: your eyes tell - special chapter part 2

The total solar eclipse, a black pearl necklace being auctioned for nine hundred two thousand dollars, and you glaring at Jeon Jeongguk.

These things were rare occurrences, but it looked like the last event you had mentioned would happen more frequently.

"I said no, Jeongguk."

Jeongguk. After being together for half a decade now, your husband still shuddered with fear every time you called him using his given name.

Why couldn't you just call him Gukkie? Did he fuck up so bad that you refused to coo his favorite nickname anymore?

"But—"

Your husband tried to reason out; however, when he saw how your glare became angrier, he stopped for a few moments.

Your cheeks were flushing. This didn't look good. You were making Jeongguk nervous.

"I really wanna move back to Seoul," he tried pouting his lips since he knew you could never resist his cute face.

He knew his plan was working when you suddenly clamped your eyes shut, refusing to look at him.

"I-It's not easy to just go back to the capital, Gukkie. Our life is literally here."

Here as in Busan. You and Jeongguk decided to settle down in his hometown the second you found out that you were pregnant.

You two figured that it would be best to raise your kid in a place where she could interact with nature. Busan was known for its beaches and mountains, unlike in Seoul where you would only be surrounded by tall buildings and hustlers.

Your kid shouldn't be in a stressful city at a very young age. Jeongguk knew this too, this was why you couldn't understand why he wanted to buy a house in Seoul.

"No, it's not." Jeongguk was still pouting while shaking his head. "You're a corporate lawyer and most businesses operate in Seoul. You barely have clients here."

He was right.

"Besides, Red wants to form a partnership with you. You know it's a good offer..."

You stayed quiet for a while, only biting your lower lip because you were aware that he made a point—a good point. But then again, you also knew that he wasn't saying these things for the advancement of your career.

He only wanted to go back to Seoul because "you want Chae-won to be close to Beomgyu, right?"

Chae-won. This was the name of your four year-old daughter. Chae meant color while won meant beginning.

You and Jeongguk thought that the name suited your daughter since Chae-won was made out of love, and love in your world signified the time you began to see the pretty hues.

"W-Well yeah..." Jeongguk was stuttering, trying so hard to find an excuse. "B-But it's also because I miss city life! I miss our friends! Don't you miss Jimin-hyung? Seokjin-hyung? Red?"

Jeongguk mentioned the Kim couple as if he was implying something. Admittedly, he had been trying to include them in literally every conversation you two were having, and the reason behind this was because of Beomgyu, the first born of Seokjin and Red.

Beomgyu and Chae-won were born in the same year. The former being three months older than your daughter. The two of them only met once since the Kims lived in Seoul—which was also the sole reason why Jeongguk wanted to move back to the capital in the first place.

Chae-won and Beomgyu met two weeks ago, meaning it had also been fourteen days since your daughter started seeing colors.

You could never forget that day.

Chae-won came crying to her father, hugging his left leg as if her life depended on it.

"B-Baby...what's wrong?" Jeongguk's face was pale. He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes.

He had always been like this. Jeongguk would cry when he saw his loved ones crying too.

"Appa! My eyes!" Chae-won used her free hand to rub her eye. She was doing it vigorously, as if she wanted to get rid of it.

"What happened to your eyes, my love?" You kneeled beside your daughter, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

It was obvious that your husband was losing his shit. At least one of you should try to stay calm, right?

"I-It's too bright, Mam..." Beomgyu was the one who answered on behalf of Chae-won.

You switched your gaze at Beomgyu, amazed because of how respectful he was. He was the only kid who called you Mam.

"Oh, my God..." Red suddenly gasped, covering her mouth when she realized something.

"D-Do you think they're..." Seokjin's wife stared at you, eyes widening as she trailed off.

"They're what?" Mr. Kim raised a brow, looking at his son and Chae-won.

"Soulmates?" Jeongguk supplied, unsure.

The four of you remained quiet. The only sounds that could be heard were Chae-won's sobs and Beomgyu's ragged breathing.

The four year-old boy didn't understand why his heart hurt so much just because Chae-won was crying. He wanted to wipe her tears away.

"Jeongguk..." You were the one who broke the silence. You glared at your husband because you felt like he just uttered the most absurd thing ever.

Sure, Jeongguk became a romantic when he finally accepted the idea of soulmates, but...wasn't he being a little too much?

Chae-won and Beomgyu were still young.

"I mean...it's a possibility, right? Chae-won started to cry when I told her to go play with Beomgyu." Jeongguk said, squatting to carry his baby girl.

You stood up, feeling a little uncomfortable with your position.

The six of you were inside the Kims' mansion. Red and Seokjin invited your family for dinner when they learned that you were in Seoul to attend Ji-eun's birthday party.

Actually, you would be staying here in Seoul for three days because Namjoon said he couldn't plan his daughter's birthday on his own. Even after four years, Namjoon was still chaotic as ever.

He refused to date, already happy with his life with Ji-eun.

"So are you saying that the world is so small that the daughter of my ex and my husband's former lawyer is the soulmate of my son?" Red chuckled, amused.

She wasn't sure whether to side with Jeongguk or not. But then again, they just couldn't ignore the mentioned possibility.

Fate always had its way of confusing the shit out of people.

"We can bring them to a doctor, if you want..." Seokjin blurted out, pulling Red closer to him as he patted his son's head.

Beomgyu was still staring at Chae-won, contemplating whether he should embrace her or wipe her tears away.

In the end, the little boy chose the former option, causing Jeonguk's heart to swell with so much happiness.

His happiness turned into joy when later that day, they found out that the kids were really soulmates.

"Of course I miss our friends," you finally answered Jeongguk's question after remembering what happened at the Kims' mansion two weeks ago.

"But I'm happy here, babe. Chae-won's friends are here. Her life is here. You know how much she likes visiting her grandparents whenever she pleases. She's born here, Gukkie."

Jeongguk bit his lower lip. He was the one who couldn't answer now. You made a point too.

"I say we let her decide where she wants to live. Chae-won is smart. She will know what her heart truly desires. Besides..." You went near Jeongguk, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He instantly encircled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Our daughter is still young. Let her be a kid, babe. We can't force her to seek romantic love just because she found her soulmate,"

Jeongguk looked sad, his lips trembling.

"I-I know that..." He heaved a deep sigh. "I guess I'm just scared. I don't want Chae-won to go through the pain you had experienced because of me. I met you a little late, love. I don't think I can handle seeing our daughter cry because her soulmate is in love with someone else..."

"Oh, Gukkie..." You nuzzled his nose, kissing his cheek.

Jeongguk was left craving for more, and so he placed a kiss on your sweet lips.

"Chae-won and Beomgyu are meant to be together. I'm sure fate will find a way to bring them together..."

"Just like what happened between you and me?" Your husband's eyes were wide and sparkling, like he was seeking your approval.

"Yeah, maybe even better. Maybe Beomgyu will love our precious baby more than we love her..."

"But I am the one who loves Chae-won the most!"

You chuckled because Jeongguk looked so adorable, like he was competing with a four year-old kid.

Typical Jeongguk.

"I know. I love you..."

"I love you too." Jeongguk smiled, kissing you once more. "And I'm so glad you're my soulmate..."

MORE JJK FICS WRITTEN BY ME: EUPHORIA or check MASTERLIST

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook x reader #jungkook roommate au #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook fantasy au #daddy jungkook #husband jungkook #your eyes tell #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Shuu Maniac [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the shopping district

Yui: ( ...This place has not changed at all. Although I suppose that only makes sense given we weren’t away for that long. )

( There don’t seem to be any rumors about wolves or such either. )

Shuu: Oi. Keep walking.

Yui: Ah, right.

( Somehow the roles are reversed for once... )

Shuu: ...

Yui: ...? What’s wrong?

Shuu: You just thought ‘I don’t want you to be the one telling me that’, didn’t you?

Yui: I-I didn’t!

Shuu: Heh...Not that it’d matter. Let’s go.

Yui: ( ...Thank god. Seems like Shuu-san is back to being his usual self too. )

ー Shuu starts walking away

Yui: ( ...Huh? )

Uhm, Shuu-san? Are we dropping by somewhere on the way home?

( He’s going into the wrong direction. I wonder where he’s headed? )

Shuu: You’ll find out if you follow me.

Yui: ...?

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the outside of the Mukami manor

Yui: ( This is... )

Shuu: Let’s go inside.

Yui: Eh!? Shuu-san...!

ー They enter the manor

*Creaaaak*

*Thud*

Shuu: ...Nobody’s around.

Yui: Shuu-san, this is the Mukami’s residence...Right?

Shuu: Yeah.

Yui: Are you sure this is fine?

Shuu: Entering this place uninvited, you mean? I don’t see the problem. This place technically belongs to the Old Man after all.

I assume the Mukami’s fled to the Demon World in fear of the Wolves as well. We’re lucky it’s currently empty. (1)

Yui: ...

Shuu: Don’t worry.

Unlike at the Demon World, the lunar eclipse has come to an end already here. Its effects on us species have faded as well so rest assured.

We’re borrowing this manor just in case. The Sakamaki manor is being sniffed out by those wolves after all.

Yui: ( Shuu-san actually thought things through. )

( He makes a valid point...I might have gotten worried for nothing. )

Shuu: Hm...So this is what this house looks like.

Even though we’re all Vampires, our lives are so different. It feels odd.

Yui: ( The atmosphere is most definitely different from the Sakamaki’s place. How should I put it? You could say the mood is more light-hearted...Ah. )

ー She walks over to the wall

Yui: ( It’s a photograph of the four Mukami brothers...! )

( They really are close. It looks like a family picture... )

Shuu-san, look at thiー Wait, huh? Shuu-san?

( He vanished into thin air...Where could he have gone? )

ー The scene shifts to the kitchen

Shuu: ...

Yui: Ah, there he is. Shuu-san, so this is where you’ve been.

( I wonder what he’s doing, staring at the shelf with silverware? ...Ah. )

They’ve got color-coded silverware. Since there’s four kinds in total, I suppose they all got matching ones?

Shuu: ...They’re matching as brothers?

Yui: Looks like it. They really are close-knit...

Shuu: Is this what you’d call...’a family’?

Yui: Eh?

Shuu: Taking pictures while smiling or using matching plates and cutlery...Those are things I can’t even fathom happening over at our place.

Yui: ( I can’t imagine the Sakamaki’s doing that either... )

Shuu: I’ve always felt disconnected from the concept of ‘a family’.

Yui: That’s not true. You have plenty of brothers, don’t you?

Shuu: Too many. Besides...With the Old Man being the way he is, you can hardly call us an ideal family.

I won’t deny that I’ve always been surrounded by other people for as long as I can remember but...I’m a little reluctant whether or not I can call them ‘family’.

Just having someone there by your side doesn’t necessarily make you feel fulfilled after all.

Yui: ( Shuu-san... )

( Perhaps he actually often felt lonely? )

( Even if he was always surrounded by others, they only stuck to his side because he is the eldest son of the family...So he might have actually been ‘alone’ this whole time. )

Shuu: ...How about your place?

Yui: My home?

( It’s rare for him to ask about me. )

Shuu: I don’t understand very well, but as a human, you can probably grasp the concept of a family very well, no?

Yui: I wonder...My family might be a little different from the average household as well.

Shuu: Is that so?

Yui: I was raised by a single father after all. Father is my only family.

Therefore, I don’t think I can confidently say ‘this is a family’. However...

I am certain that a close-knit family like the Mukami’s is what an ideal family should be like!

Shuu: Ideal, huh...? Do you feel envious of them?

Yui: Just a little. Me and Father were close too but sometimes I did feel lonely by the lack of any other family members as well.

Shuu: You are actually capable of feeling lonely too? I had no idea.

...No, I suppose I never attempted to see it. I figured there was no point.

Even though we’ve spent so much time together...

Yui: Shuu-san?

Shuu: ...Wanna try becoming a family?

Yui: Eh...!?

Shuu: As fellow strangers to the concept. Well, we’re just gonna play pretend, of course.

Yui: Ah, play pretend...

( He startled me...Because he suddenly dropped the word ‘family’... )

Shuu: It would be best to try it out before we actually do become one, right?

Yui: ...!

( When he suddenly says these kinds of things, it’s bad for my heart... (2) )

( ...But, if it’s with Shuu-san. )

( Exactly because we’ve both experienced loneliness before...It might be nice to try and make our own ideal family here. )

( It’s just the two of us after all. Even if we’re just pretending...As long as I’m with the person I love. )

Then, can I make just one request?

Shuu: What? Tell me.

Yui: I want plates and cups. Of course, matching ones. Is that okay?

Shuu: ...I don’t see why not?

Yui: Also let’s take a picture together too...What else?

Shuu: Sleep in the same bed, for example?

Yui: ...Can we?

Shuu: ...You’re weird today.

Yui: I mean...It’s a normal thing for family to do.

Let’s have our meals together too. It might not be bad to cook together every once in a while as well.

Shuu: ...

Yui: No?

Shuu: Oh well, why not? Even though it’s a drag. That’s what family does, no?

You can do as you wish. Whatever you desire, I do too.

Yui: Fufu, that sounds very family-like too. My family’s happiness is my happiness after all.

Shuu: I see. In that caseーー

ー Shuu moves closer

*Rustle*

Yui: ...!

Shuu: If I do something that makes me happy, it’ll please you too, no?

...Look my way.

Yui: ( I wonder if he’ll suck my blood...? )

Shuu: ...Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ( ...A kiss instead of sucking my blood...? )

Shuu: ...Somebody seems disappointed.

Yui: I’m not disappointed or anythi...

Shuu: Just be honest. You were looking forward to having your blood sucked, didn’t you?

That’s why this doesn’t satisfy you...Nn...

*Smooch*

Shuu: ...So, how do you truly feel?

Yui: ...I don’t feel dissatisfied...

When it’s you...I feel happy no matter what.

Shuu: ...Hah, you really are a natural at flipping my switch, aren’t you?

I was going to leave it at just a kiss, but I’ve changed my mind.

Show me your neck. I’ll live up to those expectations...and suck your blood.

Nn...!

ー Shuu bites her

Shuu: Nn, nn...Phew...

Yui: ...

Shuu: Hah...You’re making a great expression right now.

From here on out...I’ll please you in tons of ways.

My family’s happiness is my happiness, was it? ...Yui.

Nn...

*SCENE SHIFTS*

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall of the Sakamaki castle

Reiji: ...

Kanato: You’re still here, Reiji?

Why not give up already? They’re not coming back anyway.

Laito: Well, leaving Shuu aside, I do think losing Bitch-chan as well was a miscalculation on our part~

Reiji: My thoughts exactly. Why did she decide to chase after Shuu?

Shuu is to blame as well. We are being prompted to proceed with the preparations of the evening gala, yet, that good-for-nothing...

Now that it’s come to this, I shall take command and make the necessary prepaーー...

Laito: Speaking of which, where is Subaru-kun? I know that Ayato-kun can’t move just yet.

Kanato: He has isolated himself per usual. I assume he’s sulking because Yui-san is no longer around?

ー Subaru walks up to them

Subaru: ...Fuck off! Sulking, me!?

Laito: You’re so quick to react, Subaru-kun~ You must be dying from loneliness now that Bitch-chan’s gone, huh?

Subaru: Like I said, who are you callin’ lonely!? Imma fuckin’ end you!?

Reiji: Haah...Keep quiet, you lot!

...I suppose we have no other choice. We shall wait just a tad bit longer.

However, my patience is running thin. ...Shuu.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 助かる or ‘tasukaru’ literally means ‘to save’ or ‘to rescue’. However, the term ‘助かった’ or ‘sentence + が助かった’ is used to express relief or even gratitude towards a certain person or situation. In this case, the Mukami manor being empty works in favor of Shuu’s plan to hide there while the Wolves are possibly trailing them.

(2) Technically Yui says she is ‘troubled’ by Shuu-san who will suddenly say those kinds of things.

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<- [ Dark Epilogue ] [ Maniac 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfshuumaniacprolog

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Start Line (Part One of Two)

M/F Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 7.2K

Genre: Boys over Flowers AU! Strangers to enemies to potential lovers!

Summary: Starting a new school is never easy, but the four rich and popular boys who pretend like they’re above the rest of the student population? Well, that makes everything even worse.

A/N: You don’t need to watch the show to understand, but it might be fun! AKA this is a Kdrama recommendation.

Also, I’m super sorry to the anonymous user who asked for this and probably impatiently waited for me to get a grip!!!

Tagging @skzwriternet

For my entire life, I’ve had to work harder than everyone else to secure the things that I wanted the most.

Which is why nothing could enrage me more than the sight of the four boys sitting on the bleachers together in my new school’s gymnasium.

I had just recently transferred into the school on a swimming scholarship, and a young student assistant offered to give me a tour of the facilities before my first day of scheduled classes. Her name was Suzy, and she had enough intel on the school’s population that even the CIA would be jealous.

I wasn’t normally one for drama, but Suzy’s warning about the school’s infamously named “F4″ was enough to leave me feeling cautious: “You see those guys over there?” she had asked when we sat down together on the bleachers. “It’s fair to say that they run the school, so most people try to avoid pissing them off.”

The boys in question were all starters for the school’s accolade-heavy basketball team. Apparently, that meant a lot in this affluent and well-endowed community, and I could tell that they considered themselves with the highest regard. Especially the oldest, a handsome blonde whose killer accent was surely the ruin of any one of those poor girls who flocked around them like they were desperate for attention.

“Bang Chan,” Suzy informed me. “He’s the leader, and his family owns an entire line of luxury hotel chains.”

“I guess that means something special?” I remarked, and Suzy gave me a curious look.

“His family owns the school, but if we’re talking worth, then his parents pretty much own this whole town.”

“So, he takes advantage of that,” I noted, and Suzy nodded her head before indicating to the other three boys.

“They’ve all been friends since they were kids, but everyone knows that Chan and Changbin are super close.”

“Changbin?” I questioned, and Suzy pointed to the introspective and sullen-looking student who was ignoring all of the other girls with narrowed dark eyes.

“His parents died when he was young,” she explained. “He lives with his grandfather.”

“Oh?” I wondered, and I looked at Changbin again with a fresh perspective - as someone who had experienced trauma that would follow him for the rest of his life.

“Felix and Minho are the real fuckboys,” Suzy continued. “They’re notorious for the weekend rule.”

“The weekend rule?”

“Find a college party, hook-up with a nameless girl, and then leave her before she’s too attached.”

“Fuck boys,” I grumbled in agreement, and Suzy sighed as if she had personal experience...but I seriously doubted that someone of her caliber would stoop so low knowing full well what kind of reputation she was dealing with.

“The entire school is at their beck and call,” she said. “They do whatever they want, and nobody ever questions them.”

“Well, I’m here to graduate and find a good college for swimming,” I said, meeting Chan’s gaze from a distance. “I don’t have time for games.”

The ominous faction leader smirked as he held my stare, eyeing me up and down with a flicker of interest that I chose to ignore when Suzy asked if I wanted to finish the rest of our tour.

Day One

On my first day of classes, Suzy was kind enough to stick close to my side, although I was beginning to see that she wasn’t very popular, and we were mostly ignored by the rest of the populace. Which was just fine with me.

“Check it out!” she exclaimed. “Our schedules are almost identical.”

“I’m glad,” I said, ducking my head to avoid a couple of rough-housing football players who were “playfully” knocking each other into the lockers. “I’m pretty sure you could get lost in here.”

“Well, ideally, most students start here in Elementary school, and they stay all the way through High School,” Suzy said.

“A pretentious education at its finest,” I remarked, wondering how much money was literally walking by me with every Luis Vuitton bag and Gucci-made uniform that passed in opposing directions.

“Do you start swimming after school?” Suzy asked, making easy conversation as we entered our first classroom - advanced biology.

“Yeah,” I said, following Suzy to the back of the room. “There’s a tournament this weekend.”

“Already?” Suzy gasped, and she plopped down into one of the desks next to me. “Will you have enough time to practice?”

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her, reaching for a spare notebook as the teacher walked in to begin one of the most intense lectures that I had ever attended.

But the school’s Academic reputation was no joke, and I imagined that they hired the finest teachers that the school’s infinite endowment could afford - a budget that would eclipse the remainder of the public schools in the district. Yet, no one seemed to blink an eye at how obviously unfair that was, as if these well-off students deserved a high-class education simply because their parents made more money than they could spend.

My new socio-economic environment was becoming more and more apparent, and I was suddenly feeling every part of the outcast who wandered into the wrong part of town with good intentions. But a moralistic attitude would get you nowhere in life if everyone else refused to acknowledge the fact.

I learned quickly that the students at this school were only looking after themselves, but the lesson was hard to accept. Which might explain my uncharacteristic heroism when it came to defending Suzy later on that afternoon when she agreed to give me a ride home after swim practice.

I was outside, sending a message to my mom, when I noticed a black SUV careening backwards at a speed that was far too fast. Meanwhile, Suzy had settled down inside the car to start the ignition, messing with the dials on the radio, when a powerful jolt sent her jerking forward. “What the hell?” Suzy shrieked, turning around in her seat only to startle with that “deer in the headlights” look of absolute horror.

“Shit!!” she cursed, and I watched her get out of the car before taking a deep breath and joining her on the opposite side of her smashed trunk where a huge crowd of students had started to gather around us.

They were talking rapidly amongst themselves, and I figured out why they were so interested the minute Bang Chan and one of his friend - Felix, perhaps? - walked up to Suzy with a bored expression. “You do this often?” were the first words I ever heard from Chan. “I can’t believe you got in my way.”

Suzy immediately bowed her head - submitting to the older Senior. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but I couldn’t stand to watch her expose her most vulnerable position.

“Hey!” I shouted, walking around Suzy’s crumbled form to stand toe-to-toe with the infamous Bang Chan.

“You must be the new girl,” Chan remarked, eyeing me up and down with vague interest. “I kinda expected something more when I saw you the other day...”

I seethed when his gaze fell lower, as if pointing out something that only hormonal teenage boys would care about. “I’m not here to impress you,” I replied, and he arched one brow.

“I don’t need to be impressed,” Chan said. “But your little friend disrespected me, and I think she should apologize.”

“You’re the one who wasn’t looking!” I snapped. “Anyone with eyes could see that you were too busy on your phone to pay attention!”

There was a collective conversation from the crowd, and Chan studied the growing conglomeration of students surrounding our confrontation. “Do you have proof of that? Or, is it your word against mine?”

“Someone with any sense of dignity wouldn’t act this way,” I countered, and Chan immediately started laughing.

“Oh? Isn’t that cute,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You have a lot to learn around here.”

“The only thing I’ve learned is to stay away from you,” I said, and Chan rolled his eyes like it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

And the torment only continued.

“Hey!” I snapped when he knocked his shoulder against mine, coming to stand in front of Suzy again with disdain.

“Pay for the damages,” he ordered. “And then apologize to me.”

“Chan-” Suzy started, but I grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around.

“I wasn’t finished,” I said, and our noses almost brushed from the minimal distance I allowed between us.

“I don’t want to hear anything else about your idea of honor or whatever,” Chan sneered, but he paused when I held up my phone, pressing the play button on the video which provided convincing evidence of the incident.

“What about this?” I asked him, and I could practically see him come undone.

“Give that to me!” he demanded, but I took several steps away from him, returning my cellphone to my pocket.

“But I’m sure the police would be interested in seeing it.”

Chan’s eyes perceptibly widened, and I felt a surge of triumph in knowing that I had the upper hand. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” I taunted him, briefly glancing over my shoulder at his friend who had started snickering - like he was enjoying our fight.

“Fine,” Chan huffed. “What do you want?”

“You’ll pay for the damages to my friend’s car,” I said. “And...”

“And?” Chan snapped, clearly impatient.

“You can apologize to her instead,” I finished, and there were several consecutive gasps from the student population.

“Is he gonna do it?”

“There’s no way Chan will give in!!”

“Someone film this!”

My smile continued to widen at the jeers of my classmates, and Chan was finally at his wits end, spinning around on his heels to growl an imperceptible attempt at an apology to Suzy who could only look at him in awe. “We’re done here,” Chan said, and I shrugged nonchalantly, watching him storm away with his friend in tow behind him.

I sighed once they were both gone, feeling a sense of profound justice after proving that even the great Bang Chan could be defeated, but then Suzy appeared in front of me with a grave look in her eyes that told me this whole ordeal was far from over. “Y/N,” she whispered. “What have you done?”

Day Three

The next morning, I walked to my locker feeling every gaze turned in my direction. I frowned at each of them, wondering if this was the aftermath from the incident with Chan and his stupid friends. Yet, when I finally paused in front of my locker, an uncomfortable sensation of dread sent me into a cold sweat when I saw what was taped to the front of the door.

It was a red card with a black skull at the top and the infamous “F4″ written across the bottom.

“She got the card!” someone announced from off to the side, and it didn’t take long for other students to rush in my direction.

“The card?” I whispered to myself, remembering Suzy’s previous warnings concerning the exploits of the F4 boys. It wasn’t an accident that I had received this ominous warning, and I knew that I was in trouble.

Quickly, I darted through one of the exits leading outside, placing me somewhere on a small veranda where I leaned against the bannister overlooking the school’s athletic fields. “What the hell is wrong with this place!” I screeched, projecting my voice across the fields, and I didn’t expect anyone to hear me...

“Why the hell are you screaming?”

I paused at the sudden question, widening my eyes when I realized it was closer than I expected. “You come up here often?”

I staggered backward at the interjection, spinning around to locate the voice that had uttered the simple question. “Hello?”

There was a sigh, and then a familiar sweep of brown hair appeared from around the corner. “This is my spot, you know?”

“No,” I said, cringing at my tone. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

The recipient in question was none other than Changbin, one of the four members of the school’s notorious F4. His dark black hair was wind-swept across his forehead, falling in thin strands over attentive brown eyes while he leaned against the wall of the small patio sectioned off from the rest of the veranda. “Lesson learned,” Changbin continued, swaggering up the stairs to stand next to me, looking out over the playing fields. “I guess I can’t come here anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I found myself asking without really thinking about what it might look like to show that I was concerned. After all, he was a member of the same F4 that had just terrorized me with their stupid calling card.

“You’re here,” Changbin replied as if the answer might suffice. “I have a feeling this place will be too loud.”

He sighed then before starting for the exit. “W-wait!” I stuttered, unable to put together a logical sentence before Changbin was already walking back inside.

But Changbin’s unexpected appearance proved to be the least of my problems.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I faced an onslaught of humiliation courtesy of my classmates. Everything from jeers between classes, to more insulting pranks like decorating the desk on my homeroom classroom with vulgar language and pictures.

Yet, worst of all was coming face to face with Bang Chan himself who smiled some kind of sickening smirk at me before quietly asking if I had had enough of the torment. “This is nothing,” I growled at him.

“Oh? Well, it’s only gonna get worse,” Chan promised, and he left without another word, leaving me to stew over a powerful combination of anxiety and frustration.

However, Chan’s idea of worse was, indeed, inexcusable. And I nearly screamed when I went to swim that afternoon, only to discover the pool littered with trash. But there was nobody around to help, and I spent the entirety of my scheduled practice time cleaning up with water, wrinkling my nose at a few questionable banana peels.

“I guess he went through with it,” a familiar voice interrupted my trash session, beaming through the haze of disgust lingering with every brush of my fingers across sodden newspaper or moldy plates.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded of Felix and Minho - the infamous duo who were practically glued to Chan’s side.

“We just wanted to meet you,” Felix said, and I watched through narrowed eyes as they brought over chairs from the side to sit down at the poolside.

I frowned. Couldn’t they help? “Why are you interested?” I asked instead, bringing another load of trash to the edge.

“Well, it’s been awhile since anyone stood up to Chan,” Minho explained, and there was a playfulness in his gaze that left me feeling uneasy in concern to their real intentions.

“Doing what’s right shouldn’t make me a martyr,” I said.

“But it does,” Felix replied with a cheeky smile. “He’s gonna keep up the torture, you know,” he continued, waving his hand around to indicate the trash still floating on top of the chlorine-caked water.

“Forever?” I grimaced, hating that the word had slipped free without really thinking about what it would mean to admit such things to Chan’s friends.

Minho smiled, looking up at something over my shoulder. “I’m surprised to see you here, Changbin?”

I turned around as if it was instinctual, watching the same person from earlier on the veranda walk inside from the locker room. He seemed even more out of place than Minho and Felix, studying the pollution of trash swimming with me. “She’s interesting,” Changbin said, and I was surprised when my stomach did a few somersaults at his confession.

“I agree,” Felix inserted, leaning back against his elbows with his shirt sleeves rucked up high on his forearms. “It’s been a while since Chan has been this invested in something.”

“It would be nice if he could stop,” I grumbled, and I met Changbin’s sincere gaze as he knelt down next to the poolside.

“He’ll give up when he thinks you won’t back down,” Changbin finally decided, and I watched as he started gathering the trash floating in his direction.

Day Seven

In hindsight, my imagination ran wild with scenarios that were more insane with each progressive image that crossed through my head.

But what could you expect from someone who had just figured out that she was being followed by three burly men wearing suits like they were the Men in Black.

Each time I started to walk faster, they would also do the same. Until it got to the point where I was zigzagging around corners, doing my best to dodge out of their sight, only to find myself once again confronted with the strange men who had no intentions of leaving me alone.

Eventually, I paused on the sidewalk outside of the school’s entrance. I was running late that morning, which meant nobody else was around to witness this madness. But I was a strong, independent woman with a a no-nonsense attitude that compelled me to project my voice across the well-polished front lawn. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” I began, holding up my hands when they grew closer. “What seems to be the problem?”

“We have orders to bring you to our boss,” they said, which only confused me even more.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know who you’re talking about?”

“Our apologies, miss,” the first man continued. “We were informed that you might try to resist.”

“Like I’m just gonna skip school and leave with a couple of strangers who have no conception of personal space,’ I glowered, but when I tried to spin around on my heel, I found myself colliding with an enormous chest, and I sighed, realizing that they had clearly been distracting me long enough for the third guard to sneak up behind me. “Fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes when he grabbed my arm, leading me to the sleek black car running at the front of the school.

From there, my day only continued to grow even weirder, especially when I found myself walking up the steps of a gigantic mansion that looked like it could grace the cover of Vanity Fair magazine.

“Where am I?” I tried to ask, but the guards ignored my question, bringing me inside the house where I felt a twinge of misplaced guilt for treading my dirty sneakers across the pristine marble floors that practically shined with my reflection looking back at me.

“Greetings, miss,” a friendly tone greeted me, and I studied the older gentleman who dismissed the guards with a wave of his wrinkled hand. He was dressed impeccably in a suit with a long coat-tail, balding gray hair styled atop his head in a delicate swoop.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, but the butler was silent as he indicated for me to follow him. Down the crowded corridors, decorated with large, extravagant paintings, and down the granite staircase descending to the floor in a circular pattern.

Down a stretch of never-ending hallway that led to a bedroom at the end where two younger women - identically matched in uniform - greeted me by name before ushering me inside.

“Can you at least tell me where I am?” I asked the butler who followed us inside, giving out instructions as I was forced onto a stool in front of a vanity mirror, wincing when the woman immediately started to yank a brush through my long hair.

“This might take a while,” she said, and I frowned at her tone, coughing when a fresh puff of powder was streaked across my face - compliments of another girl who had a palate of make-up balanced on her hand like it was a paint tray and my skin was her canvas.

“I’d like to know something,” I insisted, but I was met with silence, crossing my arms across my chest as I resigned myself to the unexpected makeover since it was a thousand times better than my earlier scenarios where I envisioned myself dying from a James Bond-esque death.

It was only a half-hour later when the women declared themselves finished, standing back to admire their work while I had a staring contest with the girl looking back at me in the mirror. Because it was hard to believe that it was me with neat ringlets decorating my scalp, and sticky globs of mascara and foundation hiding the blemishes on my face.

I looked amazing, but it wasn’t really me. Still, I wasn’t given much time to study my new appearance, and I hesitated when the butler extended a black dress in my direction. “Our boss wants you to wear this,” he informed me, and I hesitantly accepted the expensive fabric.

“Who’s your boss?” I tried once more, but the butler simply smiled at me before waiting outside for me to get dressed, and I squeezed myself into the exquisite gown that swept the floor at my feet, hugging my curves and accentuating my figure in ways that my sweatpants and t-shirts couldn't.

When I finally walked back out, the butler smiled at me in approval before waving his hand in a grand fashion. “He’s waiting in the living room.”

I swallowed hard, following him once again through the maze of the house while wondering who I might be meeting. A rich donor? A potential Sugar Daddy?

They were all grand ideas that proved to be far better than the truth, and I could only gape in surprise when I was led into the living room, only to meet Chan’s eager gaze from across the expanse of white, designer-brand carpet.

“You!” I hissed in an accusing tone, watching the butler leave from the corner of my eye.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Chan asked, eliminating the distance between us with a few calculating steps. “They were right about the dress. You actually clean-up nice, Y/N.”

I scoffed at the backwards compliment. “Are you serious?” I nearly growled. “You kidnapped me for this?!”

Chan looked at me in disbelief, and I wondered if it was the first time that he had ever been rendered silent. “Do I not get a thank you?”

“A thank you?” I repeated. Incredulous.

“I brought you here,” Chan said, but he was clearly hesitating. “I thought you might like the attention? The clothes aren’t to your taste?”

“Shit, you’re dense,” I muttered. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“It’s obvious,” Chan said. “Talking down to me the other day, pretending like you aren’t affected by the F4 card...you just wanted my attention. And guess what, Y/N? I’m willing to give it to you.”

I blinked once, trying to understand his ridiculous train of bullshit. “What?!”

“You can be my girlfriend,” Chan said, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s a pretty big deal, but I’m sure you know that. I’ll even let you hold my hand between classes, and maybe come to your swim meets or whatever.”

“Chan...” I started, but then I broke off with a sigh because nothing I could think of seemed like an appropriate response. “I don’t think there’s even a remote chance that I would want to be your girlfriend.” I shivered, releasing a groan just saying the title. “Whatever you think is happening…it’s totally warped inside that screwed up head of yours.”

“Y/N-”

“Please,” I interrupted him, holding up one hand. “I’ve had enough, okay? I just want to go home.”

“But...” Chan tried to protested, stuttering around his words when I yanked off the expensive heels, chucking them off to the side. “How could you not want this?” he asked. “The outfit itself cost over $1,000 dollars.”

“$1,000 dollars?” I repeated, widening my eyes when I thought about how many hours my parents would need to put in at our local laundromat business to even make close to the amount he just threw away like it was nothing. “Chan, I might not live in the same world as you, but where I come from? You don’t make friends with money...you make them from the heart.”

“Impossible!” Chan protested, even as I turned my back to him. “Money can buy anything!”

“Is that why I’m leaving?” I returned, reaching down to hold my dress in place while feeling a small sense of satisfaction at having left Chan completely speechless.

Of course, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have tossed the shoes because the cement was hot against the soles of my feet, and I had attracted more than one curious look as I stormed down the street in search of the main road to take me back home.

“Stupid moron,” I huffed, practically jogging down the road with bare feet and my dress hiked up my legs to prevent me from tripping over the train. It was probably a sight for sore eyes when it came to the rich socialites who populated the neighborhood.

But like the sun’s rays penetrating the clouds on a rainy afternoon, I heard the sound of a motorcycle growing closer from behind me. Until the bike was right next to me, and the driver removed his helmet to expose a familiar bush of brown locks.

“Do you need a ride home?” Changbin asked, and I swallowed hard as I met his steady gaze. It was a simple question, but the fact that he didn’t even question me about why I was here? Nor could I detect any judgement in those impenetrable brown eyes that held all the allure, sending my heart knocking against my breastbone once again.

“Yeah,” I agreed, taking the extra helmet from him. “It’s been a shitty day.”

“I know how that feels,” Changbin said, and I was surprised by his easy conversation, planting myself on the seat behind him.

“Thank you for this,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and shivering at the thick smell of his cologne.

“It seems like you might be worth the effort,” Changbin remarked before kicking his bike into gear, and my heart did something strange that might be considered very dangerous when it involved the F4.

But I couldn’t help it, and I had never been more at ease this close to someone else.

Day Ten

Despite my adamant protests, the school insisted that I needed to take a physical education course, which meant that I was forced to pretend to enjoy dodgeball with the rest of my classmates. Hiding out at the back while most of the other girls did all the hard work. But I was only meant for one sport, and dodgeball was as far from swimming as one could get.

It helped that Suzy had gym at the same time, and we talked between games, with Suzy leading most of the conversation.as she offered introductions for most of our other classmates. “Mandy,” Suzy grumbled at one point, indicating to a tall blonde with long legs and a permanent sneer. “She thinks that she somehow has a chance to be with Chan, even though he’s kinda made it obvious that he doesn’t think anyone here is good enough.”

“Really?” I snorted, seeking Chan out from the corner of my eye, playing basketball on the courts with the rest of the F4.

“It’s a running thing here,” Suzy continued. “But most people don’t even try since they don’t want to get on Mandy’s bad side.”

“Whatever,” I replied, averting my gaze when Chan’s eyes met mine. “He’s not even worth it.”

“Most of our classmates would disagree,” Suzy said with a shrug, nudging her shoulder against mine when one of the instructors ordered us to begin the second round.

As usual, I lingered at the the sidelines away from my team, making a half-hearted attempt to play along, especially since I seemed to be a recurring target, using other bodies to protect myself from stray plastic dodgeballs. “What the hell,” I grumbled, wondering if that stupid F4 card was to blame for my classmate’s sudden desire to single me out from everyone else.

I crossed my arms at the thought, finding myself once again looking back over at Chan...Did he think it was funny to make me a target of ridicule? Well, at least Changbin was being surprisingly nice, and just the mere mention of the older boy was enough to do crazy things to my poor heart.

But lost in my daydreams, I failed to notice that Mandy and one of her friends had stalked to the edge of the court, rearing back to throw their dodgeballs at me while I was distracted. “Y/N!” I heard Suzy’s voice scream from across the field, and I looked away from Chan only to find myself frozen in place while a dodgeball flew in my direction.

The sickening CRACK! of the stupid thing hitting my nose was audible, and I immediately tasted blood on my upper lip. “Go clean yourself up, Miss Y/L/N,” one of the instructors said, but I was furious that she was treating the situation so nonchalantly.

It was all Chan’s fault. Even if he hadn't thrown the ball, he empowered his classmates to belittle me at every opportunity, and I was tired of being the school’s metaphorical punching bag. And I hated the tears threatening to fall, refusing to show any signs of weakness as I stormed past Suzy for the girl’s bathroom.

“Fuck,” I cursed as I leaned over the sink, splashing some cold water on my face as I looked at my bloody and mangled reflection in the mirror.

This was the worst incident so far, and I hated that the situation had escalated to something physical, gripping the edge of the sink tightly as I closed my eyes to regain control over my breathing.

“Here,” a voice whispered from behind me, and I turned around with a glare already contorting my expression when I was forced to face Bang Chan once again.

“It’s your fault,” I replied, snatching the paper towel from him as I dabbed at my nose. “What the hell are you doing in the girl’s bathroom?”

“I’m sorry,” Chan said, but I refused to believe it was sincere, turning back around to check the damage of my nose in the mirror. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“You can’t be sorry after the fact,” I snapped. “You had every chance to make things right and leave me the hell alone.”

“Well, I can’t do that now...” Chan trailed off, and it was surprising to see him suddenly look so unsure of himself. “I'm just trying to help...”

“And who asked you to do that?” I returned, looking at him from the corner of my eye. “Even if you were the last person on Earth, I would never ask for your help!”

My exclamation was punctuated by a rather harsh sound after I shoved the paper towels into the trashcan, preparing to leave the bathroom before Chan grabbed my arm to turn me back around. “What do you dislike so much?” Chan whined. “I don’t understand...I’m rich, handsome, smart...”

“All of it!” I interrupted with a harsh tone, and Chan immediately stumbled back against the sink. “You must not realize, but do you think those things matter to me? Because I can’t even consider them when your entire personality is unattractive! Your arrogant attitude, your stupid face, and that ridiculous curly hair!!”

“Are you insane?” Chan asked, and his bewildered expression would be funny under any other circumstances.

“I’m not done yet,” I sharply interjected. “It annoys me that you guys are allowed to do whatever you want at this school, and the whole red card deal? Where you give everyone a free pass to bully other students? Like it’s nothing? That’s the absolute worst thing about you!!”

“Y/N...”

“Do I need to repeat it?” I interrupted once more. “I hate everything about you!”

The harsh exclamation was met by silence as Chan continued to stare at me, and I decided to leave him alone in silence to think about everything I had said, rejoining my classmates with a sense of relief at having stood up to someone who considered himself as better than everyone else.

Day Fourteen

“You should come with me,” Suzy remarked one afternoon, sitting next to the poolside with me as I swam my regular laps.

“I’d rather not,” I said, pausing at the edge of the pool to consider her request - a night under the stars, as the school’s dance team had proclaimed it, and it was one of the biggest school events of the year.

“Why?” Suzy whined. “The F4 revoked your red card, and you can meet some more people...maybe even score some connections.”

“Right,” I scoffed, thinking the idea absurd, but I guess it wouldn’t seem so outrageous to the ones who had been dealing with these politics for their entire lives. “I’m not really that outgoing.”

“It’s okay,” Suzy reassured me, and I could tell that she really wanted me to come with her, which is probably why I felt compelled to agree. But her smile and cheering was worth it, especially considering just how good of a friend Suzy had proven to be during the past two weeks.

And that’s how I found myself walking up to the school’s gymnasium that weekend, wearing an uncomfortable black dress that Suzy had agreed to lend me for the occasion. “You look hot, Y/N,” Suzy said, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my reflection reminded me too much of the time when Chan had brought me to his house to play dress-up.

“I can hear the music all the way out here,” I said, following Suzy up the gym steps.

“Yeah, this event isn’t regulated by the teachers, so it’s basically a free-for-all,” Suzy explained, and I desperately wished that I could find the appeal in that statement, especially once we entered the building, washing us in neon colors of purple and pink. “Let’s dance!” Suzy immediately cried, pulling me to the dance floor despite my protests.

Thankfully, I only had to awkwardly navigate the party scene for one song before Suzy became preoccupied with a very cute Senior boy from our homeroom. I was able to sneak away to the punch bowl, ladling some of the red liquid into my cup before bringing it to my lips. “Hmm,” I wondered, eyeing the drink because it tasted so familiar...”Oh well,” I said, shrugging as I proceeded to drain several more cups before sinking down against the wall, never noticing that a pair of eyes had been watching my every movement until a pair of Versace-toed boots stopped in front of me.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Chan remarked, and I was shocked that he had the guts to talk to me after honoring my request to be ignored for the past several days.

“What do you want?” I grumbled, reluctantly taking his outstretched hand to help me stand again because my vision was unusually blurry and my stomach was churning.

“The punch was spiked,” Chan said, chucking at my disheveled state.

“Spiked?” I repeated, finding myself totally incoherent as I leaned most of my weight against him. “When did that happen?”

“The Seniors do it as a prank,” Chan said, and his gaze seemed to soften as he held me close. “Do you want to sit down?”

“That would be nice,” I slurred, allowing him to guide me over to the bleachers where I dropped down with a thud!

“Damn, you’re pretty wasted,” Chan said, looking me over with an uncharacteristic amount of concern.

“I didn’t know...” I trailed off, pointing back at the punch bowl. “It tasted so good.”

“I bet it did,” Chan said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he cleared his throat. “I saw that you came with your friend, but maybe you might want some company?”

“Sure!” I said, patting the space next to me. “You’ve caught me in a good mood.”

Chan grinned - a genuine smile that I could hardly recognize - as he sat down with a sigh. “This doesn’t really seem like your type of scene.”

“Not really,” I agreed, narrowing my eyes when the room started swaying. “But you’re not my usual type of person.”

“Right,” Chan agreed, chuckling awkwardly as he messed up his hair - straightened instead of curly. “Maybe we could go somewhere else?”

I frowned because, even though I might’ve been a little more than tipsy, I still remembered that I didn’t like Chan, and there was no reason for me to go anywhere with him. “Are you intentionally ignoring everything I said from the other day?”

“No,” Chan murmured. “But I was hoping that I could give you space...and maybe a chance to prove myself?”

“Really?” I snorted. “How much have you changed since the last time we talked?”

“Probably not much,” Chan acknowledged, much to my surprise. “But after everything you said, maybe I’d like to? And I feel like you’re the only person who can be honest enough to help me.”

“Oh,” I replied, slightly disconcerted by Chan’s abrupt change in attitude. “Still, after everything you did...”

“I know I don’t deserve it,” Chan quickly agreed. “But I think you’re one of the rare kinds of people who believes in second chances.”

I exhaled loudly at his words, and in part to keep myself from throwing up after all the alcohol I ingested. “Where would we go?”

“What about a date at the diner downtown?” Chan asked, swallowing hard. “With me?”

“Let’s not call it a date,” I grimaced, and Chan agreed, even though it seemed to be a reluctant remission on his part. “But, yeah, that actually might be nice.”

“Perfect!” Chan said, and he was already on his feet with an energy that was impossible to ignore. “I’ll have Changbin tell your friend. Wait right here, and I’ll come back.”

“Okay,” I muttered, clutching my stomach as I watched Chan run off into the crowd. “Jeez, Y/N,” I groaned. “What are you doing with this guy?”

It might be one of the worst decisions of my life, but something he said struck a nerve deep inside of me. He might be unbearable, but he was right about one thing: people could always change, and I was the type of person who allowed second chances...just as long as someone was willing to earn it and prove themselves.

“Are we taking your car?” I asked, staggering against Chan’s hold as he brought us outside the gym.

“Yeah,” he said. “We can take my car, and you can sober up on the way.”

“Good idea,” I agreed, regretting the decision to drink so much of that stupid punch with every swaying step towards Chan’s expensive sports car.

He had the decency to open the door for me, and I fell inside with a grunt, waiting for him to turn over the ignition before he started fussing over me. “Do you need anything? Something to drink? Are you hot or cold? Should I turn on the music?”

“Don’t ask questions,” I gritted out - a response to everything while I leaned my head against the window.

“Got it,” Chan said, and he dutifully followed through on his promise, never speaking again until we pulled into the parking lot of the diner he had advertised earlier. “Do you feel any better?”

I nodded, an honest response. Because the drive had taken close to twenty minutes, and I had found a water bottle in the floor, downing the contents to settle my stomach and the wave of nausea that only alcohol could bring. “We can go inside,” I said, rolling my eyes when he made a show of coming around to help me out of the car, grabbing my arm despite my protests. “What is this place?” I asked when we walked inside, choosing an empty table near the back.

“My friends come here a lot,” Chan replied. “It’s quiet.”

“Quiet?” I laughed. “There’s no way it’s quiet if the whole school comes here.”

“They don’t,” Chan said, surprising me yet again. “Nobody knows we come here.”

He gave me a meaningful look, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was risking a lot by entrusting me with their secret. “Got it,” I said, miming myself closing a zipper across my lips (perhaps that was the drunkenness affecting my judgement).

But Chan still laughed, and then he went to the counter to order, leaving me to contemplate what the actual hell I was doing with the school’s literal celebrity who treated most people like shit, including me for a short while at the very beginning.

At this point, I really couldn’t blame the alcohol. So, what was wrong with me? Why was I doing this?

“Here,” Chan said, dropping a mug of something sweet down in front of me, effectively interrupting my internal conflict.

“Hot chocolate?” I asked, and I was definitely caught off-guard as Chan shrugged and sat down in front of me.

“I thought you might prefer this,” he admitted.

“Oh...” I started, searching for a good response. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Chan said, and he smiled as he watched me taste the foam resting on top. “Is it good?”

“It’s nice,” I admitted, and Chan had the appearance of someone who had just landed an acceptance to their dream college.

“You’re different from the others,” Chan said, switching the topic. “I like that about you, and it makes me regret everything I’ve done even more.”

“Yeah,” I huffed. “That red card shit needs to stop.”

“I agree,” Chan said, bringing his mug even closer. “My friends have wanted to stop for a while...”

“They’re way smarter than you,” I said, tilting my head to the side as if it might give me a different vantage point of the confusing boy sitting in front of me. “Did you really want to come here with me?”

Chan nodded, eyes gleaming. “You’re interesting,” he decided, mirroring the exact same thing that Changbin had said to me a while back. “I think I like you a lot, which is why what you said to me at my house and in the bathroom really made me reconsider a lot of things.”

“Oh?” I questioned him, amused by his reasoning, and possibly even endeared by his regretful expression. “I might learn to like you...” I trailed off, laughing at his puppy-dog eyes as he looked at me with obvious desperation. “If you learn to behave.”

“Is that so?” Chan remarked, and his smile was perfectly sincere. “Well, I think you’re the best person to teach me.”

And despite our complicated history together - unwinding after such a brief amount of time in one another’s company - I was more than willing to try for the very strange boy who was starting to show me the intricate layers underneath all the wealth and arrogance - a mere façade for something better, the potential for good if a brave enough person was careful enough to find it.

End of Part One

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