#i want to marry him not just for his money

[thehauntedetheral]

JUST AN WRITING IDEA.

I just had a weird writing idea. Imagine you are a daughter from a very influential and wealthy business family. Your parents want to set you up for an arrange marriage with a powerful family just like yours. So to escape from this arranged marriage you came up with a plan. You told your parents you like yandere and want to marry him only. And your parents loved this. Because after all yandere has everything power, status, reputation, money, everything. But how come you are ready to marry him? What's the sudden change of heart? After throwing so many tantrums and rejecting numerous grooms.

Well few days ago your best friend told you that yandere likes only men and might be in a secret relationship with his male secretary. And he doesn't tell about his sexuality to anyone because his family who has most of the shares of company is homophobic.

So you made a plan. You told your parents you want to marry yandere only and no one else and yandere doesn't like women so he will obviously reject you and you will cry over the rejection and postpone your arrange marriage for some months in the facade of heartbreak.

Your plan began. To show your family and people that you are badly down for yandere you did many things. You flirted with him like a shameless every chance you got.

Would tell everyone how you are madly in love with him and will marry him one day. While people thinking that you are the most delusional person on this earth.

You would crash into his office uninvited and act like a cute girlfriend which you totally are not.

Would call him the most weird and chessy names like "My marshmallow, my sweet pea, love of my life, my future husband" in front of everyone while yandere ignores you like it's a daily occurrence which actually now has become a daily occurence.

"Won't you give your girlfriend a hug or a kiss?"

"I know your way of telling me that you love me is ignoring me"

One day you brought a huge ass size flower bouquet for him while saying "Since you don't give me flowers one of us have to do this babe"

You quite enjoyed teasing him. And did I mention you also teased his secreaty with yandere's name. By saying "Yandere is quite good looking good choice secretary. Have a nice night" while winking at him.

You are hundred percent sure that yandere thinks you are one of his crazy delulu fangirls just like thousands of many. But is only tolerating you because you are daughter of one of his important person.

Until one day he drags you into a corner at an event. Traping your back infront of a wall with his arms from side towering above you.

"Are you really that desperate to marry me, huh?" He asked.

"Well of course after all you are the love of my life " you Said smiling staying in your crazy fangirl character.

"Then marry me this weekend " he said with the most straight expression.

"Wait. Aren't you gay?" You said being totally surprised.

"I have always liked women y/n. "

Little do you know yandere ignored you in start but as the time passed now you have got him stuck with your thoughts 24/7. And there is no way backing out now. He is going to have you no matter what.

This is just a idea I got into my mind and shared it with you. Hope you liked it. If you want a longer version let me know through comments.

For More Yandere Reading:

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

For the first time since they saved the world, since Steve carried Eddie out of hell, and their bat bites had healed, Eddie was finally hanging out with Steve without impending doom hanging over their heads. Robin was also there as she didn't want to miss Steve cooking, and Eddie didn't blame her.

"Holy fucking shit!" Eddie yelled, slamming down his fork. "Fucking marry me."

Steve blinked at him, blushing, and his mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and smiled.

"Okay!"

"Oh! I'll go get the book!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands as she ran off.

"Book?" Eddie asked. "What? What's going on?"

Robin soon came back with a large white binder with a lock on it. She slammed it on the table and pulled out a key from under her shirt, unlocking it.

"This is Steve’s wedding book. As his best man, I hold the key," Robin said.

"Wait, hold on, that wasn't a real - ," Eddie started to say.

"Ooh, some of these were definitely written before me. That's definitely Baby Steve’s handwriting. . . Ooh, I can just imagine little Stevie putting a white sheet over his perfect hair," Robin said. "So, Spring, Fall, Summer, or Winter?"

"I was thinking Fall-ish," Steve said. "Near the end of August, maybe in September. Not too cold, not too hot."

Robin closed her eyes and held a pen in the air. Where did the pen come from?

"August 30th! I feel it! Perfect day!" Robin exclaimed.

"Wait, just a goddamn minute! What are you doing?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Planning your wedding to Steve, duh," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, Steve, are you sure about the groom?"

"Yeah," Steve said, grinning. "He's funny, very cute, and good with kids. Yeah, I'll take him."

"You like men?!" Eddie asked.

"Duh, babe, keep up. He's already told you this," Robin said.

"Fucking when?!" Eddie asked.

"In the hospital," Steve replied.

"When I was on painkillers?!" He asked.

"You still want Dustin to be the flower girl?" Robin asked Eddie.

"Oh, shit, that actually would be hilarious- no, nope, no way! This isn't happening!" Eddie yelled.

"Did you ask Steve to marry you?" Robin asked.

"Well, yes, but - "

"Did he say yes?"

"Again, yes, however - "

"Then you're engaged. Congratulations," Robin said.

"Ooh, we have enough money in the budget for weddings 2, 5, and 8!" Steve explained, looking over her shoulder.

"When I said that Steve should marry me, I wasn't -," Eddie said.

"Can you think of a reason why you shouldn't marry Steve?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't even know if I like men! I like women!" Eddie shrieked, running his hands over his face.

"You said something different in the hospital," Steve said.

"You mean, when I was on painkillers?!" He asked. "You're fucking with me. You guys are fucking with me."

"Babe, you seem stressed out by all this wedding planning," Steve said, taking his hand.

"I am VERY stressed out," Eddie said.

"Just let me and Robin handle it. I have been planning my wedding since I was like five, and trust me, I have never been a fan of big weddings, so it's going to be low-key and tasteful," Steve said, squeezing his hand.

"This is illegal," Eddie said weakly and in disbelief.

"Yeah, like none of us have ever done anything illegal," Steve rolled his eyes. "A marriage is more than just a piece of paper. Besides, I don't want the government at my wedding anyway."

"Fuck, yeah, me neither," Eddie said, shaking his head. "This is crazy!"

"Look, Eddie, I know this is sudden, and I know how scary it is to deal with all of this as well as speed running through a sexuality crisis. It's been a couple of months, but there were days where I sat by your bedside, hoping you would wake up, and when you did, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you every morning," Steve said softly, rubbing his thumb. "I want to hear every single rant, even the ones where you're being as asshole. I love you, and if you really don't want to do this, then I'll back down."

Eddie looked into Steve’s hazel eyes, swallowing thickly as he imagined being married to him and waking up with him every day. He already knew that Steve could handle how chaotic he could be, how much he loved the kids despite his loud protests, and he remembered all the talks about their asshole fathers who basically abandoned them. Eddie remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing Steve’s relieved red rimmed eyes. He knew without a doubt that Steve was a partner that he could depend on.

"Okay! I've decided that I'm just going to let this happen!" Eddie said, throwing up his hand. "But I can't be domesticated! I refuse!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Steve grinned.

"Also, during one of the dances, we're playing Metallica!" He yelled.

"Done!"

Steve leaned over the table and kissed Eddie, who didn't waste a second kissing him back. Yeah, he liked it, and he wasn't ever going to kiss anyone else. On some level, he had known that as soon as he had slammed Steve against the wall of that boathouse.

"Oh my God! I'm marrying Steve Harrington!"

TWO DAYS LATER. . .

Eddie was sprawled out on the couch in his brand new living room when Wayne came in, back from his fishing trip. Eddie frowned as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"So, how'd the dinner with Steve go?" Wayne asked.

"Well, the food was so good that I asked Steve to marry me, and he said yes," Eddie said. "It's on August 30th, save the date."

"You're hilarious, son," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You should be a comedian."

Suddenly, Steve burst out of the kitchen, looking flustered.

"Okay, I decided to be the bigger person here. I'm going to invite my parents to the wedding," Steve said. "If they don't come, they don't come. Hopper's already agreed to walk me down the aisle. Oh, hey, Wayne. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to cook for my fiancé and my future father in law. How was the fishing trip?"

Wayne stared at him, blinking at Steve and then at Eddie. Wayne sighed, shaking his head.

"Not a goddamn bite. Waste of a trip," Wayne said.

"Damn," Steve said and looked at the kitchen. "I have to check on the food. Sorry. I want to hear more about it!"

"Smells good, son!" Wayne yelled and plopped down on the couch next to Eddie.

"You accepted that pretty quickly," Eddie said.

"You can't do better than Steve. He went to hell and back for you. He never left your side. . .he loves you, and I can't ask for a better partner for my boy. . .speaking of why aren't you in there helping your fella?" Wayne asked.

"He kicked me out," Eddie pouted.

"You almost took my head off with a skillet!" Steve exclaimed.

"I nearly took him out, and he still wants to be with me," Eddie sighed happily and tucked his head into Wayne's shoulder. "By the way, when you walk me down the aisle, you can't let me fall, you know how I am."

"I would never let you fall."

Eddie smiled. Despite everything that happened, that's still happening. . .Eddie was happy, and he was getting married to the most wonderful guy in the entire world. Suddenly, Eddie sat up.

"Oh, no," Eddie said.

"What?"

"We told Dustin and the kids, but I didn't think to tell Ronnie," Eddie gasped.

"You mean, your best friend since you were eight?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah, I am in deep - "

Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Ronnie Ecker stood there in all her long-legged glory.

"You're getting married to Steve Harrington?!" She asked. "And I had to hear about it from a 12 year old?!"

"He's 14, actually," Eddie said casually. "How was the trip from New York?"

Eddie suddenly remembered the thing Robin had reminded him to do: don't forget to tell your platonic soulmate.

[furorsopher]

im not kidding when i say that ive watched this like 35 times now and my heart gets more itchy every time (in a good way)

i’m reading too much into this but ima post it anyways:

it’s so painful that historical hamilton loved his shit ass father to some extent, he tried to keep contact and sent him letters and money years after he left them. he had a lot of mixed feelings about the guy. but probably more negative ones when he had his own children and couldn’t dream of just leaving them without shame or remorse (which he kinda did then anyways. +30 points emotional damage).

he always loved his kids but he was probably scared he would end up making the decisions his father made which had hurt their whole little family. And phillip wanted to be just like his father. just as accomplished and clever, as “honorable” and he was prepared to sacrifice his life for their name, that’s how proud he was (and also duels were so illegal at the time he wasn’t even buried properly, just somewhere in an unmarked grave outside the cemetery, we don’t even know where now).

in this context both of them are asking this question. alexander is looking back at his father, into the depths of his past he tried to run away from, not only by physically leaving, but also by marrying into high society, wondering if he’ll ever escape his origins, pleading not to be like his father.

and phillip is looking up at his father in awe and admiration for the man who always cared for him, made sure he was fed and educated, but most importantly loved. he loved that man so much that he wished to be him.

when phillip dies he asks to look like his father even in his last moments. to be seen as brave and dying a glorious death, putting his life on the line for the thing that was most important to him like alex did fighting for their country and fighting for their family.

and then, when alexander dies, he knew he was close to where his dear first born had sacrificed himself for him. he probably felt a little at peace knowing he would die the same way his son did, maybe thinking he’d atone for the sin of letting his child die before and because of him by suffering the same fate.

This animatic was quite difficult for me, considering that I feel the song to some extent. The idea with Philip and Hamilton was born almost immediately when this song spread and at the first opportunity I decided to sketch it all, even if a little differently than I originally wanted

[dolliels]

third times the charm.

azul x reader

synopsis: azul likes you. and he’s been trying to ask you out for a while.

a/n: okay guys im not dead wtf. posting this fic to prove i didn’t kms 💀💀

azul had only three goals in mind: prove his bullies wrong, become rich and die rich.

his love life was the least of his worries. he’d probably swoon over some wealthy girl and marry her for connections. done deal. nothing much to think about.

azul thought about the huge house he’ll eventually own. he even has the measurements and everything down in his head.

everything would be at the grasp of his hands. no children, absolutely not. everything would be perfectly spread out just for him. he’d die on his deathbed with a huge grin on his face, knowing he’d only get the best even after he has left the world of the living. perfect.

so sometimes, he’d find himself wondering why he would be in a dazed state, daydreaming about a modest, happy future with you.

everything was laid out. his entire future was laid out. then suddenly, you decided to waltz into his life, and all he thinks about is you. waking up, he’s wondering if you’re sleeping in. or when he’s eating, he’d be trying to guess what you’d be buying to see if he actually knows your tastes. or during work, gazing around mostro lounge, seeing if you’d decided to take a visit to his beloved café.

ugh, it infuriated him.

sometimes, it would go as far as thoughts of marriage, which completely ruined him.

see, the thing is, he hasn't even asked you out. you and azul were not at all close intimately in any way. friends? sure. but not close like that.

so why was his mind leaping so far? did he really want to have such a commitment with you? after all these years of obsessing over his future?

he wanted to live such a luxurious life of power and money. so everything he’s done to build all the way up here seems to tumble down when in his head, azul seemed to feel much happier in a modest life with you. he felt his heart warm at the thought of being beside you even in his death.

he hasn’t daydreamed this much since middle school, when he’s had violent thoughts about ruining anyone who’s bullied him.

so, after much contemplation, he decided to confess.

the first time, he decided it was going to be simple. he was gonna hand you a bouquet of flowers afterschool, and ask if he could court you. simple enough, right? he’s look clean and awesome.

but when the time finally arrived, he found himself to have cold feet.

yes, he’d have the comfort of knowing he would have composure, but what if you reject him? then can he keep going on with the calm, collected manner? would you think a simple bouquet of flowers would be too little?

fortunately for you, you ended up having a pretty vase of flowers. unfortunately for azul, you wouldn’t know who it came from.

the second time, azul went on full glam.

it’s be an incredibly romantic setting. It's just you and azul, chatting away after hours of mostro lunge and you’d fall right into his trap of charms, and just when you’re feeling him, he’d confess. so while you have a good impression of him, would you receive a confession from him.

fancy food, calm, quiet setting.

azul was so sure he’d be able to do this that he even let jade and floyd intervene and help out.

yet when you and azul were talking, he found himself stuttering, quite a hot mess.

although you seemed quite confused and calm, azul was in a nervous state.

he’d start overthinking again, his head wandering off to merry land, thinking about the possible results of this confession. perhaps this was too excessive? Maybe the simple bouquet of flowers from before would’ve been better. you seemed to have enjoyed them.

no! azul already got this far, he has to do this!

“so, uhm… prefect…” azul behind, breathing in deeply.

you turned to look, and blinked at him. “yeah?”

…fuck.

it was like you wanted him to fail, batting your eyelashes (you literally just blinked) and looking so cute in front of him (you just inhaled a shit ton of free food)

“a-ah… is there anything else you want? I’m feeling quite generous.”

azul wanted to sprint out. he messed up again! It seems that the words “i like you” weren’t coming out of his mouth anytime soon.

you frowned. “really? you really don’t have it out for me?”

azul shook his head, and smiled. “you can trust me.”

you shrugged. “oh well. whatever debt I have to pay will be something future me can deal with.” you flapped the menu open.

It took quite a bit of convincing for the twins to drag you here, since you were suspicious as to why azul wanted to suddenly meet you, offering free food out of nowhere. azul was wasting all of it.

the twins will never let him see the end of it.

…and never seeing the end of it was he right.

even after such a mess up, predictably, the twins kept teasing azul about it. they’d even use it against him sometimes.

“ah…you’re making us do all of this when you helped you prepare a confession for the prefect and you didn’t even confess… and wasted our time…sigh….”

it was horrible down here with jade and floyd.

if he… possibly tried confessing to you again… would they stop?

although it seemed azul was in the dumps of announcing his love for you, it made him think about it again. freedom… from the twins… is this what heaven is like?

it wasn’t like azul completely stopped thinking of you, in fact, you appeared in his thoughts even more now, which seemed impossible already but who’s to tell?

you slowly consumed his mind, it drove azul insane. what’s even worse is that you’re completely blind to it, so he can’t even go to you for comfort from this madness.

it’s technically your fault, and also not your fault at the same time!

the days went by, and azul couldn’t tolerate it any longer.

yes, he wanted to appear as awesome and composed as he could in front of you, but you were driving him nuts without trying— azul just liked you so much. He couldn’t just hold inside him, of course he would go mad!

and anyways, third times the charm, right?

however, for the unlucky octopus, he just can’t seemed to find the right time. you were constantly surrounded by people, and if you were, for the rare occasion, alone, azul would freeze up at the unexpected chance.

this crush on you got even worse as well, turning more red by the second, compared to his slight discomfort from his early days.

he was already imagining a relationship with you, embarrassingly giggling to himself like a little girl with his eyes closed in bed. it was starting to take a toll on him when his head wandered astray to thoughts of marriage… it was like the world slapped him in the face as if to say hey! your life plans are totally going down the drain because you are pathetically in love!

he's spent many days mumbling to himself like crazy. stuck to be a paranoid businessman, considering every possibility and outcome he might receive if he ever told you his feelings, especially if you were to reject him. his eyes burned from being unable to sleep at night from overthinking and the stacks of papers he had to get through because he lost track of his focus thinking of you.

now you were ruining his life.

and what were you doing? nothing.

it's like whenever you were bored, you decided to prance around the daises of his life; an unstoppable force, preventing azul from functioning normally.

this isn't like him.

"this isn't like you." said jade, leaning towards azul so that he could hear jade's hushed voice over the chatty crowds of the mostro lounge. "you're not still stuck on about the whole prefect thing, are you?"

azul sighed. "admittedly, i am." he took off his glasses and massaged his temple. "i have barely gotten any work done. what is wrong with me?"

jade chuckled. "why are you so worried? honestly, you should just walk up to them and ask. that's what i would do."

"i'm not you, jade" azul groaned. “I can’t just confidently stride to them and ask them out.”

“well of course you can’t!”

“ouch.”

“my apologies. let me reword that. you can’t do that because you’re not me. how about you do it in a way that doesn’t make you look so cool? after all, you’re quite the opposite of that. wouldn’t the truth be more endearing?”

still… ouch. but it wasn’t like jade was wrong. azul is, unfortunately, far from cool. Even though that is what he likes to display.

“and what if the prefect says yes after you ask them out with that mask of yours? are you going to keep pretending until they get sick of you?”

azul couldn’t reply. what could he say?

“just be normal. after all, i couldn’t stand to watch you like this after you made me and floyd do all that work and was still incapable of asking them out. do you know how difficult it was for me to drag the prefect here? uhehehehehe.” jade wiped away a fake tear.

azul just groaned and walked away.

a little frustrated, a little annoyed, his courage seemed to have broken the roof when he saw you walk in with grim, bickering about who knows what.

he thought back to his daydreams. the images of you smiling, holding hands, soft kisses in secret, his heart was not well.

he slowly dug deep into his head to take out a precious daydream of his;

nothing special,

it was you slowly mouthing the words “I. Love. You.” to him.

“prefect,” azul said, tapping your shoulder.

you gave your full attention to him, happily. “what’s up azul?”

“I like you. would you allow me to take you out on a date?”

a/n hi guys.. shoujo bf is coming im serious pls b patient w me 💀💀

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is an older omega, not that he finds anything wrong with that. His parents sent him away to get schooling (all the schooling he wanted in whatever subjects...). So Hob is smart and learned, which has never been the desired flavor of omega in Hob's society set. (Hob's parents were something of rebels in their set; they loved all their children, alpha or omega, and wanted what was truely best for them).

When he returns from his schooling, though his parents try to hide it from him, he learns that the family has fallen on hard times, and that the best way to help quickly is for Hob to marry, rich. (Hob is also working on the accounts and investments, but that takes time...and doing business as an omega is just as challenging as doing anything as an omega. )

Hob is going to have to go out and find himself a rich husband; having to hide all his intelligence and abilities, because rich alphas especially seem to want vapid pretty arm candy. Hob can be pretty and play (convincingly) at vapid....hopefully.

Initially, it goes well, but Hob catches the eye of Lord Morpheus who barely let's Hob get away with his vapid act......and who Hob finds lovely (to argue with, yep argue with) behind closed doors. But Hob knows he's not Endless omega material, so even if he has a little fun riling, and being riled up, by Lord Morpheus, it can't go anywhere, even if in his secret heart he might want it to, Hob has his family to protect/save.

Morpheus is fascinated by Hob, this omega who seems so smart, so canny, one minute and vapid and empty-headed the next. Morpheus hates a mystery, but he might hate that he would want Hob whether he was smart or vapid.

SQUEEEE this is so much fun!!! It's absolutely giving brooding, Brontë style romance vibes, and I LOVE that.

Being a Lord means that Morpheus of course has money to burn, so he decides to use some of that money to unwind the mystery of Hob. Initially he pays for information about the Gadling family, and discovers their financial staits. Morpheus begins to put two and two together - Hob must be on the hunt for a rich husband. Morpheus is still interested, however... and curious as to the genuine measure of Hob’s intelligence. Once again using his vast financial resources, Morpheus essentially buys up a chunk of the Gadling family's debt, meaning that they now owe Morpheus money... and giving him an opportunity to see how Hob handles those accounts.

Hob is blindsided when one of the family's creditors requests a meeting and it turns out to be Lord Morpheus of all people. In fact, Hob is pretty angry that Morpheus would leverage such power over him. However, he keeps a cool head and handles the business meeting flawlessly, suggesting a new payment schedule for the debts and offering up certain assurances and guarantees that the money will be settled.

Morpheus realises belatedly that he's offended Hob - the one omega who he now realises that he really really wants. Hob is smart and funny and gorgeous, and he'd be so perfect at Morpheus’s side, helping him to manage his estate. Alas, Hob now refuses to debate with him (even when Morpheus offers to cancel out the Gadling's debt!) and will only make insipid marks about the weather when they meet.

Hob's pride is hurt and worst of all, he's starting to realise that he may genuinely be in love with Lord Morpheus! The alpha is really going to have to pull something extraordinary out of the bag if he wants to win Hob’s hand in marriage, however. His parents raised a strong omega and Hob will NOT let anyone change who he truly is...

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 14

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of food

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 5,066

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 2

A/N: Christmas in November??

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

"Y/n! You're home! Come in, come in!" Wonseok's mom shouts from the hallway once she hears the front door open.

"Hi, mom," You greet warmly as you pull your bags in, Wonseok pushes the door shut to keep the cold air out.

You neatly put your shoes to the side and drop your bag down to greet her with a hug. Her hair is in a messy low bun held together by a gold-colored clip you bought her for her birthday this year.

"Goodness," She pulls away from you and cups your face, examining it from every angle. "Look at you! Have you not been eating well on your trip? Have they been working you too hard?"

You can't help but laugh as you gently place your hands on her wrist. "I ate well, I promise. I'll even show you pictures."

"I'll make you something to eat right now. Wonseok, go put Y/n's stuff in her room." Her hands drop from your face to your hands, ready to drag you off to the kitchen with her.

Wonseok’s mom has been like your surrogate mother ever since your first trip to South Korea. You were a university, studying abroad for your last year in the city that you’d hopefully move to once you graduated. You worked hard, during those first few years of university, to save money to even be able to afford the plane ticket alone. You took on as many jobs as your body would allow you, and you worked hard to maintain a high grade point average so you had no excuse not to go.

You met Wonseok during your first class. The journalism department was small, but still, the class was full nonetheless. You had gotten to class early so you could get a good seat and get some reading done. Wonseok, less studious compared to you, got to class later and took the only remaining spot that just happened to be next to you. He was quiet, either exhausted from the early class or general shyness from sitting next to a complete stranger. He was two years older than you, which you realized was the norm. Wonseok completed his military service right after high school rather than start university and pause halfway through like many men in your department did. He also didn’t want to wait until after he graduated because he wanted to start his career right away.

You found out later that he really didn’t have much interest in befriending you, not that you had any either. But your professor walked in and announced that everyone would be partnered with their current deskmate for the entire semester so you had no choice. After that, you two became quick friends. It didn’t hurt that you were in most of each other’s classes.

It wasn’t until your second semester when Chuseok rolled around and he realized that you had nowhere else to go. So he invited you to go home with him, despite your protests. His mother was more than happy, especially at the fact that her 24-year-old son was bringing a woman home for such a big family holiday. Even after explaining that ‘it wasn’t like that,’ she kept watching the two of you with a hopeful eye sharing anecdotes about how it also ‘wasn’t like that,’ with her and her first boyfriend but they ended up married with two sons. You were worried at first about meeting her. You’ve watched more than enough dramas to know the archetype of the overbearing, protective mother who would scrutinize and ridicule every woman in their son’s life. And you weren’t even dating him. So you were cautious at first when she welcomed you with open arms and a warm smile. It wasn’t until a few months later you realized that she was just like that.

Christmas in South Korea is celebrated more like Valentine's Day in respects to it being more of a couple's holiday than a family one. Which is why you were more than willing to stay in the country and not fly back home the first year that you were there. You wouldn’t have to fly home and deal with unnecessary family drama, not that you were welcomed after “abandoning your family,” as your mother had so kindly put it when you told her that you were studying abroad. And you wouldn’t have felt as lonely if you watched families celebrating around you. When Wonseok mentioned to his mother in passing that you were staying for Christmas and that you were just going to stay at the dorm, she insisted that you come over. Baited by the free food, you went expecting a small, simple Christmas holiday. Only, when you got there, she had insisted on celebrating in a “Western way” so that you would feel at home. It was the first Christmas in your entire 22 years of living where Christmas felt like how you were led to believe it would feel like in Christmas movies. And for the past 6 years, that’s what Christmas has been.

“Mom, let me help Wonnie. My stuff is too heavy.” You laugh as you pat her hand.

“Ah, that boy—It wouldn’t be too heavy for him if he kept up with his military training. He was in the Navy, you know.” She waves you off, gently tugging you away from the entrance.

“I know,” you laugh again. “I kind of miss when he was all buff. Sitting behind a desk most of the day has made him soft. He even gets winded climbing the stairs to get to my apartment.”

“You two do realize that I’m right here, right?” Wonseok rolls his eyes as he sets his own bags down.

“Just leave the stuff by the door, I’ll ask Wonjae to take it up when he gets back from the store.” She returns the eye roll before dragging you off to the kitchen.

You get a glimpse of the living room on your way to the kitchen. It looks like a Hallmark Christmas movie bomb went off. A 6-foot-tall tree stands in the corner of the room undecorated, a task she leaves for when you and Wonseok arrive so that you can do it together.

"Hurry, hurry, you don't want the food to get cold." She pulls you along faster. "Wonseok, quickly put your things away and come eat!"

You stifle a laugh as you hear a string of swears come from Wonseok's direction. His mom either doesn't hear him or is choosing to ignore it for your sake. You've heard about Wonseok's mom used to be when he and his older brother were younger, but that's almost a completely different from the woman you know now. "She's gone soft with her two youngest kids," as Wonseok and Wonjae like to remind you and Frankie.

She ushers you to sit at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. It's too small to be a regular use table to eat family meals at. There's only enough space to barely fit three people in it. It's mostly used for meal prep like cutting vegetables, marinating meat, and sifting through beans. Wonseok once told you that it was the table where he and Wonjae would sit and do homework while their mother cooked dinner. If they were done with their homework or if they didn't have anything to do, they'd sit there and help their mother by doing all of the prep work for her. The first few times you went over to visit, you'd sit there and help her too while you two got to know each other before she let you work alongside her directly.

"What did you make, mom?" You ask as you spread out the utensils she left on the center of the table.

She walks over to the table slowly, carefully holding a hot bowl in hers with only a thin cloth protecting her skin. “I made kimchi-jigae because the two of you have been out in the snow.”

“Wow,” You look at her with an open mouth smile and a twinkle in your eye. “How do you always manage to know what I want?”

“A mother just knows,” she says simply as she turns around to get a bowl of rice and side dishes for you.

“I smell Kimchi-jigae,” Wonseok announces as he makes his appearance in the room. He quickly tosses something in the trash and joins you at the table. “I’ve been craving this for ages!”

“See?” Wonseok’s mom gives you a simple wink as she gets Wonseok some food.

After a few more minutes, Wonseok’s mother comes back to the table with his food. She sets it down in front of him before scurrying off to the stove once more. The two of you wait silently for her to return to the table, both out of politeness and fear of burning your mouths.

She slowly walks back to the table, careful to not spill a drop of whatever is in the mug in her hand. Finally, she takes a seat in the vacant chair at the table.

“Oh look at both of you, so well-mannered waiting for me. You can go ahead and eat,” She cheers as she gestures at both of you.

You watch as Wonseok resists the urge to make a wisecrack remark and instead takes a careful sip of the stew from his spoon.

“Thank you for the meal.” You say quickly before taking your own sip.

Wonseok's mom nonchalantly sips from her mug and watches fondly as both of you eat your food. The heat from the soup and the spice from the kimchi work quickly to thaw out your body from being outside in the snow.

You've been back in Seoul for a few days, but it's barely now setting in that you're on vacation mode. Your flight landed a little earlier than planned and after some convincing, Wonseok drove you to the company building so you could pick up some of the packages and mail that Wonseok and Frankie weren't allowed to pick up for you. Mostly signed "thank you" albums from the groups you wrote album reviews for over the past couple of months.

Wonseok's mom takes another sip of her drink, which you can only assume is tea and lets out a satisfied sigh. “How’s my other daughter? Did she get home safely?”

“She did, she sent us a text when she landed. Knowing Frankie, she’s probably asleep right now. It’s almost 9pm over there and her trip was almost 17 hours long.” Wonseok relays and he searches through his phone. You’d check yours but Wonseok confiscated both your phone and your laptop the second he picked you up from your apartment.

It's all a part of his "make Y/n take a break" initiative. For the next couple of weeks, everyone is going to be allowed to work from home to give the staff members who want to travel for the holidays to do so. The only days that you actually have off are Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Year’s Day. Wonseok, knowing you very well, made you hand over your phone and laptop and told you that you’d get them back on the 26th.

“She’ll be here for Seollal, right?” Another sip, another question.

“Um,” You watch as Wonseok goes to his calendar app. Different color bars fill in the dates. “She will be back. She’s only staying until her mom’s birthday.”

“Y/n? Are you going to be here for Seollal or are you going back on the road?” She shifts her attention back to you.

You blink for a moment, trying to remember your schedule for the first half of the year. Korean Lunar New Year changes its date every year. This year it was at the beginning of February. Next year it’s… “When is it?”

“January 29th—a Wednesday! This year it was on a Saturday.” Wonseok grumbles as he slides his phone back into his pocket.

“Oh, I’ll be back home then. There are two more shows in Hong Kong but they’re on the 18th and 19th so we’re not going to rush back. After that, I’m home until the second leg of the tour starts in March.” You nod quietly to yourself. There’s not much in your head at the moment other than Stray Kids’ tour schedule.

“Oh good!” She sets her cup down on the counter and claps her hands together. “That means the three of you can come here.”

“Mom, I love you but I’m not spending Seollal at home with my parents.” Wonseok whines.

“Ah, cover your mouth before you talk.” His mom nags as she gets a napkin and places it in his hand. “And you wouldn’t have to spend holidays with your parents if you had a girlfriend.”

“Y/n is single too. So is Frankie! And Wonjae hyung too.”

“I'm not worried about Y/n. She’s almost there since she’s traveling with all those handsome and pretty men. There's eight of them, right? You're still young, you don't have to settle down with one of them. Just have fun and--"

"Mom!" Wonseok groans, burying his head in his hands.

“What?" She asks innocently. "I was young once. How do you think you got here?”

“Adoption,” Wonseok answers quickly.

“That would have been easier than what actually happened. I was in labor with you for 12 hours. You had a big head." She pats Wonseok's normally shaped head.

Wonseok stares into space for a moment thinking, or maybe dissociating, before letting out a deep sigh and setting down his spoon. “…Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite,”

You clear your throat both to stifle a laugh at Wonseok's expense and to redirect the conversation. Fortunately, the redirection worked. Unfortunately, the attention is brought back to you.

"Speaking of which, Y/n, has anything sparked between you and any of those boys? What's their name? Lost Boys or something like that?" Wonseok's mom eagerly turns to you. You know she doesn't get these kinds of interactions with either of her sons. You and Frankie are the only ones who'll even talk to her about this sort of thing.

"Stray Kids," You correct politely. "And no, it's not exactly professional. I'm there just to take photos of them and interview them for the company."

"That's true, and I admire your professionalism. But your heart and your brain aren't always in agreement. Your brain might be focused on the business aspect of things, but your heart has no true understanding of those boundaries. Nobody is going to fault you for having feelings for one of them. And you're a very intelligent, loving, and capable woman who is also very beautiful, I wouldn't be surprised if all of them fell for you."

"Mom," Wonseok quickly grabs a napkin and wipes the corners of his mouth. "The heart may want what it wants but you don't understand the field Y/n works in. Even if the idols are allowed to date, many of their fans will cause an uproar so it's just better not to. Plus, even if it were easy, she would do all of them all of the time or work in her hotel room. She doesn't have the time."

Wonseok isn't completely incorrect. He's right about how difficult and troublesome dating an idol would be. The amount they work alone is taxing and you're not sure how any of them would have time for a personal and dating life on top of that. But some members of their fanbase don't understand the meaning of the word "boundaries" and would make the life of whoever is dating an idol, hell. But he is wrong about the fact that you're with all of them all of the time. In your free time, you are with some of them as they continue to visit you while you work in cafes. But more recently, Changbin has made more of an appearance in your daily life, without any of the other members.

You know for a fact that he hates the idea of being pent up in a hotel room when he's on tour so he tries to do something every day so he's not stuck inside. But after the two of you officially reconciled, he's been making his way down to the cafe where you're often emailing your team members back and forth or working on your parts of the project. Most of the time, he sits there quietly, doing his own work while you do yours. And then after a while, he'll invite you to go and eat with him somewhere to take a break. Somehow, you've found yourself around the person you disliked the most at first. It’s not like you’ve imagined crossing the boundary between artist and journalist into…romantic partners (?) with Changbin. But you somehow found yourself being the closest to him out of all of the members and you two are alone in public a lot. So if there were ever an opportunity for a dating scandal, it would be with him.

"Love knows no bounds. Trust me, I hated your father at first and he hated me. Once we reconciled our differences, we started to become friendly, but my parents weren't the biggest fans of it. And his mother absolutely hated me. Still, we got married, had you and Wonjae, and eventually your grandparents got nicer. It was tough but we survived it."

“I think having your in-laws hate you is different than having basically the whole world hate you. What’s that phrase you always say, Y/n? ‘Hell hath no fury like a sasaeng scorned?’” Wonseok turns his attention to you, an amused smile creeping up on his face.

“That’s one part. The company will always make matters worse too. Plus, I’m meant to be behind the camera. Not in front of it. That's where I'm most comfortable.” You shrug him off, gently kicking him under the table to tell him to change the subject.

"Alright, alright, enough about Y/n's nonexistent love life," Wonseok laughs, turning back to his mother. "When are dad and Jae hyung coming back?"

"Maybe they ran away," She shrugs nonchalantly before taking one more large sip from her cup.

Both you and Wonseok can't help but laugh at her unbothered nature. The three of you continue to eat your food, making light conversation as you catch up. Both Wonseok's dad and brother returned home by the time you finished eating and began sorting through the ornaments in the box beside the Christmas tree.

The rest of the day was pretty much similar. The five of you stayed in the living room, setting up the tree while a drama played in the background. You, Wonseok, and Wonjae decorated the tree while their mother went back and forth between cooking and directing where to put what. Their dad mostly sat on the couch, micromanaging where the ornaments should go and commenting on the drama. As stressful as it was--decorating for holidays always comes with its own stressors--it was the most relaxed you've been in a while.

***

"It's bulletproof, mother fucker," You, Wonseok, and Wonjae quote in unison.

"Goodness," Wonseok's mother yells from the kitchen. "Can't the three of you watch something more festive? It's Christmas!"

You and Wonseok chuckle quietly to yourselves as Wonjae grabs the remote and raises the volume. You watch as he sets the remote back down on the coffee table, next to a few opened boxes from earlier.

Much to your annoyance, both Wonseok and Wonjae had woken you up around 8 in the morning, despite the fact that the three of you were up late drinking and talking outside until late. While you were still waking up, they went to wake their parents up and then all 5 of you went downstairs to open gifts and eat breakfast together. After a couple of hours of opening gifts and eating, the three of you decided to just sit around and watch movies while their dad went on a walk and their mom disappeared off into the kitchen.

"Ah, it's a duplicate. Wonnie, do want either of these?" Wonjae nudges his younger brought with the bottom of his foot. Wonseok looks up and sees that his older brother is holding up two Pokemon cards, part of the Christmas gifts you brought both of them from Tokyo.

"Munchlax and Snorelax? I already pulled those," Wonseok shakes his head and goes back to going through his cards and watching the movie.

"Can I have them?" You sit up on your elbows and turn your attention away from the movie.

"Yeah, sure," Wonjae reaches over Wonseok and hands you the cards. You take the cards from him and go back into your original position, examining the foiled cards in your hands.

"When did you start collecting cards?" Wonseok peers over his shoulder at you as you set the cards down in your pile of gifts.

"It's not for me. I know someone who loves Munchlax and Snorelax. Might as well give them to someone who'll appreciate them." You hum as you try to focus on the movie again.

Ring ding dong, ring ding dong

Ring diggy ding diggy ding ding ding

Both you and Wonjae look around the room for the sudden music. A few seconds later Wonseok jumps up and digs his phone up from the pile of Pokemon card wrappers.

"When the fuck did you change your ring tone to Ring Ding Dong by SHINee?" You scoff as you sit up.

"When my K-pop-obsessed best friend stopped being here to harass me with music every day," He mutters under his breath, his ears quickly turning red as he answers the call. "What do you want?"

You settle back down on the couch, making sure to throw your legs over Wonseok's lap before trying, once again, to watch the movie.

"Huh? Y/n? She's right here...Why are you calling me if you want to talk to her?"

"Because you took away my phone, you dumbass," You kick Wonseok as you pull yourself up again.

"Oh, that's right," He says sheepishly. You grab the remote and pause the movie. "I'm going to put you on speaker."

"I'm going to go, I have a date later. Thank you, Y/n," Wonjae smacks the back of Wonseok's neck and pats you on the head as he gets up before retreating upstairs to his room.

"Thank God Wonnie picked up the phone or else I would have thought something absolutely diabolical was going on," Frankie whines on the phone.

You quickly grab the phone from Wonseok's hands. He pulls a face at you, almost like the mere idea of dating you can make him throw up. You try your best to keep your own breakfast down. "Never say that again, Franks." You whine back.

"Well, you're the one who didn't pick up their phone!" You hear some rustling on the other side. "Merry Christmas, by the way."

"Merry Christmas, Francesca!" Both you and Wonseok cheer in unison.

"I'm only calling now because I've had a day today and I'm planning on getting shit-faced and sleeping in tomorrow." She mutters, the exhaustion heavy in her voice. "What did you guys do? What did you get?"

"Not much," You grab some of the wrappers that fell on the floor and hand them to Wonseok. "Got some clothes, books, and self-care stuff. We've been watching movies all day though. Which is why my phone has been held hostage."

"I'm craving hotteok so I'm going to see if I can convince you to go out with me to get some later." Wonseok pips up. He tries to get his phone back from you but you pull it just out of his reach.

"I'd kill for hotteok right now. Seriously, I'd trade my sister for a bite." She groans on the other end of the phone.

"How's Cape Elizabeth?" You ask softly. You know how stressed she gets around her family. And if she's calling you close to midnight her time, she's probably losing it.

"Small," More rustling plays through the speaker. "Speaking of which, Wonseok op--Wonnie, I need to ask you something."

There's a slight pause both on the phone and in the room. If you didn't know any better, you'd think you accidentally hit the pause button on the room. Maybe even yourself. Like you're somehow interrupting something. Wonseok doesn't look at you and instead focuses on the phone in your hands.

"It's fine, you can talk. I'm going to go and take a shower since someone wants me to leave the house in below-freezing weather on my last day off for a while." You hand the phone back to Wonseok and collect your things.

"Are you sure? I did call to talk to you."

"Yeah, just call me after if you aren't too drunk by then." You make a kiss noise over the intercom and then organize your bags of gifts.

Ready to go, you stand right in front of Wonseok and stick out your hand, palm facing up. He looks at you for a moment before digging into his pocket and gently placing your phone in your hands. You let out a satisfied hum before running upstairs, going right past the first articles you, Frankie, and Wonseok ever wrote printed and framed on the wall right next to pictures of all three of you.

You quietly scroll through your phone as you walk up.

You still aren't used to your lock screen or the contact names on your phone. Seungmin changed them for you while you were at the airport. Originally, you thought he was only going to change the lock screen. Before, you had a picture that you had taken at a concert you covered earlier in the year.

But then Seungmin went on a longwinded rant about how unprofessional it was for you to have another group on your phone while you were temporarily on the staff for them.  You gave him your phone and told him to "go ape shit" thinking that he'd just change the photo. You didn't expect him to change the contact names and photos of all of the members while he was at it.

You set your phone down on the bed and dig through your suitcase for something you can wear when you go out with Wonseok. It's only to get hotteok but knowing Wonseok, the two of you are going to get sidetracked and be out later than you planned.

Oink, oink!

You look around on the floor, confused about where the noise came from. Your eyes finally land on your phone with the screen lighting up brightly. Another thing you didn't realize. Seungmin gave everyone custom ringtones. You laugh to yourself as you pick up your phone and answer.

"Hello?" You continue digging around your bag, tossing possible contenders onto your bed to look at later.

You hear some movement on the other end of the line before someone clears their throat.

"Good morning, noona! Merry Christmas," Changbin's familiar soft, warm voice rings in your ear.

"Good morning and Merry Christmas to you too." You find a sweater that you like at the bottom of the bag and set it on top of everything else. "You didn't have to call by the way."

"What? I can't call and greet my elders properly?" He jokingly scoffs.

"I'm barely 3 years older! Don't act like I'm on my deathbed!"

"Three years is a lot at your age. Be careful, noona!" He teases further.

"Did you call me just to bully me, Changbin-ssi?" You press your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you get up from the floor.

"I called to wish you a 'Merry Christmas!'" You can hear him click his touch over the speaker. "And to make sure you're not working on stuff right now."

"It's Christmas Day,"

"You never know with you!"

"This is coming from the man whose group announced a comeback two days after a Japanese release, during a world tour." You backflop down onto the bed, staring at the smooth white ceiling. Part of you wonders if Changbin is also lying in a similar position.

It's weird, how normal this conversation is. If someone were to tell you that you'd be sitting on the phone talking to one of the idols you followed and admired on Christmas Day and that he had hated you for a few months, you're almost certain that you'd have a stroke.

"Touché," A loud laughter rings through the phone. "No, but seriously, I'd rather call and wish everyone a merry Christmas."

"All of your group members texted me,"

"They're boys," You can almost picture the creeping up on Changbin's face as he tries not to laugh. How his neck and ears might be slowly turning red. "And incredibly shy. Even the extroverted ones"

"Oh trust me, I know. I've been around all eight of you long enough to know."

There's a pause. You can hear a low hum coming from Changbin's end of the line. Other than that, you can only hear your own breathing and the buzzing from the heater above. It's still awkward between you and Changbin, even more so over the phone. At least when you were on tour, it made sense to have conversations like this with him. But now--

"If I'm being completely honest, I'm kind of bored. My noona has plans with her boyfriend and my parents are taking naps before going out to dinner." He admits softly.

"Then it's a real shame that I'm going to have to leave you soon."You flip over to your stomach and start to pull at the fabric of your comforter.

"Oh, you have plans? I didn't realize that you had a b--"

Knock, knock, knock

"Y/n! I'm going to take a shower real quick and then we can go!" Wonseok calls from the other side of the door.

"Okay!" You call back, You scramble to your feet and grab clothes at the top of the pile. "Sorry, Changbin, I have to get ready or else there's going to be a hangry situation. I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah, I'll call again around the New Year's. Goodbye, noona!"

"Merry Christmas, Changbin!" You hum one more time before hanging up the call and getting your things ready.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[unfriendlies]

jesse was a bit shocked with mitsuki's response. he was so sure that the other would have found his words offensive, or taken them negatively, so that's why he had to backtrack a little bit. but even with the effort he put in to explain himself, jesse was convinced it would have upset mitsuki. "you've talked about me with her?" the surprises just kept coming. he felt a bit bad that he really couldn't talk about his love life with his parents, the only relative he could be open about that sort of thing with was his brother but even then, jesse felt like he was being judged. they both knew what their parents expected of them and his brother, a pushover, felt that the both of them just needed to give in to their parents' wishes even if it meant going against their heart. marrying a woman just wasn't something jesse could do. he'd never slept with a woman before and he had zero plans to do so. in turn, that meant he wouldn't be having children with whoever he married if he chose to marry a woman and that would go completely against his parents' desires. while jesse wanted to have the kind of friendships that mitsuki talked about, he didn't trust people enough to bring them home to meet his family. he knew that dramas were exactly just that, situations were emphasized for the drama they'd cause. but he still couldn't help but feel that if people knew who his parents were, how much power they held in their respective field, and their wealth, whoever was trying to further themselves into his life would only be doing so to tap into what his parents could provide. but then there was the fact that he was so sure he would never bring home a man to meet his parents so they wouldn't get to learn how important to society his parents actually were. that was something he was jealous of in regards to mitsuki. sure, he loved the life he had, he loved the bit of fame he made for himself and the money he's earned but what he really wanted was that closeness that mitsuki seemed to have with his parents. "i think i just need some time to prepare myself." that mostly meant he'd spent countless hours questioning mitsuki, learning about the other man's family from him rather than from a first encounter meeting with them. jesse followed mitsuki to the bathroom, though he did trail behind a bit so he didn't actually see the other undress completely. he simply walked to the opened door and seen mitsuki was completely bare, jesse stood there in the doorway to give himself a moment to admire his lover from behind. his hands reached for the button to his jeans, popping it open quickly before his fingers pulled down the zipper but he made no attempt to remove his jeans just yet. instead, he approached mitsuki from behind and wrapped his arms around the smaller man's torso. "you are so unbelievably considerate." he whispered before pressing his lips to the other's neck just behind his ear. what he really wanted to say was that he could honestly see himself making a good life with mitsuki, settling down and making a home with him. that was something he'd never felt with anybody else before. "you are so dangerous for me, you have no idea how hard it is for me to hold back."

"Oh no, I didn't expect you to meet them right away...but if you wanted to...we could keep our relationship secret and introduce you as my friend. I mean heck...we've been friends a while and I feel like it's unfair that my parents never got to meet the friend I was gushing over all the time. So how about you come over for dinner sometime. Just as my friend, okay?" he figured meeting the parents as his friend would be a good way to ease into things plus he felt bad his family never met his friend anyway. He looked up "My mother already knows a lot about you...nothing too personal I promise. She says she's excited to meet my tall friend...I think she refuses to remember your name...you will have to remind her often" he laughed then shook his head "Not knowing your friends' families is a choice, but if I am friends long enough I like to introduce my friends to my family because friends are like family too...at least to me" friendship was different for everyone and Mitsuki only got close with people he felt a proper connection with and since he was close with his family they were always asking about his friends, it seemed Jesse wasn't super close with his family so he had a different perspective on things. "Also you are a Korean celebrity....we are in Japan. My parents likely have no idea who you are...I hinted that you do some stuff...but I didn't say you were well known" he laughed "Just don't dress super fancy and they won't notice" he grabbed his hand "But if you are still unsure about meeting them I understand....I just...I just want them to know you...cause even if we ever stopped dating...you would continue to be my best friend. You are saving me from being homeless...I am honored to know you" he leaned up kissing his cheek "Now let's shut up and take a bath, I am freezing. Getting rained on is not idea" he stripped down, he was working on not being so shy around his boyfriend so he got naked and carefully hung the clothes to dry, he tossed his underwear in a dirty clothes hamper, he figured the clothes were still clean since he only wore them a short time. He headed to the bathroom and turned the tub on.

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (2)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part two | next part >>>

"He can't be serious."

You sigh and watch the wine in your glass slosh around, creating beautiful patterns along the rim of your glass, "unfortunately, I think he is."

Your cousin has on an expression you can't quite place, in-between disgust and pure confusion. He's at the microwave, busy heating up some popcorn. Having adamantly asked you to sit on his couch while taking care of the snacks, you thus decided to watch Sakura play with her legos along the carpet, keeping a watchful eye in case one might end up in her mouth.

"He's only marrying her for the money," is what he concludes after a small pause.

You snort into your glass, take a sip of it and allow the bitterness to coat your tongue, "I wish that were true."

"How would you know that?"

" 'Tsumu, is it written stupid on my forehead?" your own wrinkles in distaste, "I see the way he looks at her. He's--" you choke on your words then, the knot in your throat growing tenfold, "--he's in love with her."

"Who is in love, mum?"

"No one at all," you're quick to answer upon noticing Sakura has been listening in. She normally doesn't, a kid that enjoys staring off into space and conjuring make-believe stories, where there's magic and only happy endings. You try and force a smile onto your face, "how's the house construction for Princess Peach going?"

Your daughter lets out a laugh as she presents to you a square that looks nothing like a house. Still, you coo at it, "so pretty! I bet princess peach would love it."

Your conversation with Atsumu has to wait until Sakura is tucked away in her uncle's bedroom and has listened to three stories about princesses, before you manage to join him back onto the couch where he's busy watching a rerun of volleyball matches.

You don't get to see him much now, courtesy of the fact that he's a national athlete and has been booked at the big games representing Japan. You couldn't be prouder, and yet his permanent absence does still leave a big hole in your heart whenever he flies over a thousand miles. Atsumu had been your rock since you guys were kids, defending you on the school playground and dragging you around to parties and birthdays without your consent. He'd taken care of you as a big brother would and he still is. You don't know how to repay this kind of kindness.

You're just thankful that he has one week off so that you can rant and ramble about the unfairness of the world. At least with Atsumu here, it appeases the pain, if just a little.

"Have you signed the papers yet?" he asks, handing you the bowl of popcorn.

You grab a handful, popping onto of them into your mouth as you answer, "not yet."

"You should ask him for alimony, at least."

"I'm not sure I'd win that, 'Tsumu."

"Still," his nose wrinkles in distaste, "this feels unfair. And why are you the one taking care of Sakura on your own? And I don't mean the parenting part. What about the finances? Why can't he contribute?"

"Because he's a dick and he thinks he can get away with it," you're glad that the tv is providing a welcome distraction, for you can't bear to look into Atsumu's eyes, "I'm just going to sign it and be done with it. I don't want Sakura to suffer any longer. It's not fair on her, she barely sees him."

"Well maybe it's time you find someone else too, y/n."

Your thoughts suddenly flash to Kuroo's beautiful smile and you have to physically force yourself to keep from grinning. You can feel the heat from the back of your neck and come up with the excuse that it's still too early and that Sakura wouldn't like her world shattering just for your happiness.

But it seems that Atsumu knows you better than that, for he asks, "are you blushing?"

"Wha--" Panic skitters through you, "no. No, why would I blush?"

His eyebrows raise, "you’ve met someone then?"

"N--No. Not at all. It's--" you realize you're blundering when his smile widens slightly, "it's not like that."

"So who's the lucky guy?"

"Atsumu."

"Y/N," his eyes glisten with playfulness and he nudges your shoulder, "c'mon. Tell me!"

You let out another breath and mumble, "He’'s not someone I met. He's...Just someone I know."

"And how do you know him?"

"He's Sakura's PE coach."

Atsumu lets out a whistle, "well that--" he shakes his head, "--that's not what I imagined at all."

"Shut up."

"So you like him?"

"It's not--It's really not like that. I--" you try and rack your brain for anything to say because this is really embarrassing. Who has a crush at the age of twenty-nine? Practically all of your friends are already married and have kids, talk about husband problems and how they wish for their youth back. And you? Here you are, thinking you might have a crush. You're no better than a middle school girl.

Which is why you say, "I don't even know him."

"You just think he's cute?"

"Precisely. But there are a lot of cute guys. It doesn't mean anything."

“Right,” Atsumu lets out a breath before he leans back into the couch, “but you know what I think?”

You hum in response.

“I think you should get laid—“

You almost spit out your wine in shock, gape at him in horror, “Atsumu!”

Again, your brain goes into overdrive at the thought of Kuroo and his sweaty chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he just towers over your small frame…

NO! You slam onto your mental brakes and shake your head, “you’re disgusting.” You spit out.

“I’m telling the truth princess. I really believe in the power of s—“

“Don’t—“ you cut him off with a raised palm, “don’t even say it.”

“So tell me,” Atsumu proceeds to wriggle his brows suggestively which makes it even harder to stop the blush igniting along your face, “this guy, how handsome is he? Must be pretty good-looking for you to be blushing like that.”

“Shut up ‘Tsumu, it’s not like that at all. Just stop. He's like--half of my age."

“Alright alright,” he laughs his deep-bellied laughter and wraps an arm around you in a gentle, comforting hug, “but if ever you do get lais with him, you gotta tell me.”

“Mum, what does ‘getting laid’ mean?”

“Oh!” Your head snaps to the doorway only to see your daughter all sleepy-eyed and clutching a spare pillow.

“Sakura!” You scramble to over, casting your cousin a scowl as you do, “c’mon, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You hear Atsumu’s laughter follow you all the way to the bedroom.

————

It’s weird when Sakura isn’t around.

It’s almost like you’ve lost your purpose. But then again, you should be taking advantage of this right? That’s what everyone keeps telling you.

But alas, something in you cannot just let yourself rest for fear that your thoughts may go into a black hole of what ifs and images of Sakura with your ex-husband’s wife —well, almost ex-husband— and thus decide to take on a last-minute order.

It’s a simple enough request— a birthday cake. While you usually plan events from A to Z, this order merely requested a cake of any kind. So that’s how you spend your Saturday morning — creating a dough and sugar decorations that would fit into the theme of “Halloween”, as per what your client has asked.

You drive up to the pin location around four in the afternoon, strolling through the streets until the google maps signals you that you’ve arrived to your destination. Turning off the ignition at the said house — a beautiful Victorian home adorned with columns twice your height and size — you open your door only to come face to face with a familiar pair of golden eyes.

“Coach?”

“Kosuke-san?”

You both stare. And stare.

It’s shock that comes first. Before realization slaps you in the face, “oh!” You quickly bow in hopes that you haven’t been staring too long, “good afternoon, Coach. What—What brings you here?”

"Kosuke-san," he bows and looks just as surprised as you are, before he notices the way you're struggling to juggle to cake in your arms, "here, let me help you."

Without hesitation, he opens the door a bit wider and closes the gap between you, lifting the box from your arms, "jeez how heavy is this thing?"

You let out a small laugh, "it's all the icing sugar."

"Come in," he gestures with his chin for you to follow and as you step into the threshold he continues, "so when you said you were an event planner--I didn't expect you to be a cake designer too."

"It's an extra service I provide," you shrug, "I'm a patissier by career. Event planning is just something that keeps the cash flowing."

Kuroo pauses in mid-step then, "you're a patissier?"

"Yeah. Well, I was," you chuckle, "but anyway, it's been a while since I've baked now. So I hope it's just as good as you expect it to be."

Kuroo opens his mouth only to be cut off by a horde of boys stumbling into what appears to be the kitchen area. Now that you have a better look, it's all white marble and golden taps and golden handles on every piece of furniture to match. In any case, this house screams of money and for a minute, you feel a bit small and insignificant in your stained-flour blouse, the splotches of paint across your faded out jeans, courtesy of Sakura's art skills.

"You must be y/n!" one of the boys detaches himself. His orange hair glistens in the sun streaming through the window and he's a bit shorter than Kuroo. He beams at you and you can't help but be reminded of a puppy, "thanks for taking my order on such a short notice!"

"No worries at all. You must be...Hinata?"

"Yes!" he shakes your hand, "so I see you've met Kuroo! He's one of my best mates! We used to play against each other back in high school."

"Really now?" you quirk a brow in Kuroo's direction, watching the muscles of his arms ripple as he places the cake in an orderly manner inside the fridge. His voice is muffled when he replies, "yeah, he's the midget that made us jump for our lives. I hated him."

"You're just sour because you lost that one time," Hinata pouts, "but anyway, this is the rest of the ex-team!"

And so that's how you get a round of names that you will probably forget in five minutes and Kuroo, having seen the confusion in your eyes, can't help but laugh to himself because the sight is somewhat adorable. And he knows he shouldn't find it, he knows you're off limits because first, you're a mom from the school and two, you're married and have a kid. It's definitely not at all appropriate for his eyes to be roaming over your curves or to linger over the light glittering in your eyes.

Get a hold of yourself, he mentally whacks the back of his head.

“Where’s the little munchkin?” Kuroo asks you once you’re all settled after having been wheedled by Hinata to stay (“please please please you did such a great job on the cake” is what he’d begged). You’re now perched onto a plush lounge chair, a mixture of juice and vodka in your hand and watching the nth match of pingpong between someone whose name you forget and the other whose name sounds like Daichi. Though yoj might be wrong.

You’re glad for Kuroo’s presence, for even if he is a stranger, he still feels familiar to you right now in this setting.

“Sakura’s with her father today,” you explain with a slight smile in hopes it doesn’t give any of that bitterness away.

Kuroo opens his mouth like he wants so say something — anything— but you beat him to it, “we’re not together. Not anymore.”

His eyes widen with realization and you see it, the way he’s putting all the puzzle pieces together, “I’m sorry to hear,” is what he finally musters.

“Nothing be to be sorry about.”

“So… the name Kosuke…”

“Is my maiden name,” you reply, “I’ve never changed names. Looking back, I think I’ve done the right thing.”

Kuroo isn’t sure whether he should be mad for you or hurt in your place. After all, who in their right mind would leave their wife and their toddler daughter?

He deals with little kids every day, so he knows exactly what they’re like on a daily basis, and it’s not easy.

“I’m sorry,” it seems that’s the only thing he knows how to say.

“Really,” you laugh at him, “how can you be sorry when it’s not even your fault?”

Kuroo shrugs and grins bashfully because yes, it’s true and he still doesn’t know what to say. So he decides to ask, “And Sakura… how is she?”

“She doesn’t realize it. She’s too young,” your smile fades slightly, “in a way, I hope that’s a good sign.”

His heart clenches at the thought of you raising this kid alone. He can’t even imagine it. It makes sympathy swim inside his chest like an ache he can’t quite ignore. The look on your face suggests that you’ve been let down and he has the sudden impulse to tell you that everything will be alright, will be okay.

But he can’t do that. You’ll think of him as a creep. So he bites his tongue and look away instead, at the war of pingpong ongoing between his two friends. In a way, he’s glad for the distraction as he sips on his beer.

“And you?” Your voice piping up surprises him. His eyes flit back to your face. You continue, “married? Engaged?”

Kuroo’s throat bobs as he chuckles, “no. None of that.”

“How come?” You take a sip of your cocktail, “you don’t seem like the type to wound up alone with a hundred cats.”

“No no,” he can’t help but laugh because one, you’re hella attractive to him; tiny and frail and looking like he can fit you in a box no problem and two; you’re actually entertaining to be around. Something that he’s found lacking in his previous dates, “I just didn’t find anyone special yet.”

“Well there's no rush,” you lift your cocktail as you speak, “and anyway, you’re still young. You should enjoy it while you can.”

“Young?” Kuroo’s face breaks into a grin as his golden orbs glimmer down at you, amused, “how old do you think I am?”

"Uhm--I don't know. Early twenties?"

"I'm twenty-five," he gives you a look, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-eight. Going on twenty-nine."

"You look like you've just gotten out of college though," Kuroo's smirk is visible even behind his beer as he chugs down most of his drink, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you and Sakura were sisters."

"Not even," you retort, "And excuse me, but you look younger than twenty-five."

"I make up for it in height," he peers down at you, "but I suppose you wouldn't understand that considering--"

Your arm whacks at his shoulder before you know it. A playful gesture surely, but one that you don't really use on your daughter's teachers. Let alone ones that have bulging muscles and a figure to die for. You stare at your hand for a long minute, your brain going blank, before your eyes whip up to his and horror seeps into your gaze.

"Oh my god!" you screech and recoil like he's the one that had slapped you, "I'm so sorry, I--It's just--automatic you know, my cousin--he's got the same humor and--well I--I'm really sorry--"

The guffaw that leaves Kuroo's mouth is so loud that it causes heads to turn, even the ones invested in the ping pong game. He bends over while holding his stomach and the initial panic that you have wears off upon seeing him look so joyously happy. You can't help but chuckle along.

"What?" you say when he's regained most of his breath, "what's so funny?"

"You are," he grins, before it turns mischievous, "senpai."

"Hey--now that's going a bit too far!"

You're not quite sure what time you get home that night. But you do know that you've gone to sleep with a smile on your face.

————

"Kuroo sensei! He stole my ball!"

A typical Monday morning where Kuroo is busy surveilling the fifth graders as they decided to play basketball during their free time. He's not one to deny such requests, actually enjoys watching them play and seeing them grow day by day, developing their techniques. But to say that he's a bit in the clouds would be an understatement.

"Kuroo sensei!"

He finally snaps back to reality. Blinks down at the tiny boy with the biggest scowl he's ever seen yet, "yes I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"He stole my ball!" the young boy points at one of the chubby classmates who seems quite content in playing by himself, "and now he's saying that it was his!"

Kuroo can't help but raise a brow. He's taught that class before, knows exactly that the chubby little kid doesn't have that many friends, including the boy standing before him.

"I don't think he stole your ball."

It's a bold statement, but from the way the tiny student squirms and averts his gaze, Kuroo believes he is right, "but--but he did! He really did steal my ball!"

"I have an idea," Kuroo bends down to his height, not able to restrain the grin along his face at the pout forming on the student's lips, "why don't you go and play with him? He seems a bit lonely."

"Yeah that's because he never talks to anyone in class."

"Then why don't you be the first? hm?" he nudges the boy's shoulder, "show your class a good example. Come on."

With a bit more reassurance, the said student goes over and Kuroo watches fondly as the two exchange awkward greetings before the chubby student nods his head, glancing at his PE coach like he'd just dropped a bomb.

Five minutes later, they're playing together like best friends.

And Kuroo goes back to daydreaming.

He's not usually like this. So out of it, so inside his own head that he can't see the outside world. But ever since that party he's been wondering when's the next time he'd get to see you, to talk to you. Not just as Sakura's mum but as someone, maybe a friend. He's addicted to the way your eyes curve up before your lips are even drawn into a smile, like you're sharing a special secret with him before the world gets a flash of blinding white teeth. He enjoys watching you move about because you're just so tiny, holding cups with two hands and always having to tiptoe about to find stuff. But most of all, that conversation with you had him dreaming of more. He wants to know you, that initial curiosity turning to what he'd define as stupid infatuation.

Yes, Kuroo Tetsurou has a crush, and he's not quite sure how to feel about it.

"--Earth to Kuroo?"

He blinks. In front of him stands his colleague and friend Bokuto. Having faced each other off countlessly during their high school days, it was a miracle and lovely surprise to see him at the new year induction. Since then, they’d been a constant pair inside the school walls and creating assignments, organizing and coordinating events had never been so fun.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and rubs a hand over his face.

“You look like death, mate,” Bokuto leans on the fencing that separates the courts from the building, “why the long face?”

“Haven’t slept well,” Kuroo says, but he knows he’s not convincing when Bokuto’s eyebrows raise in question.

“You? Firm believer of 10hrs of sleep every day?” His friend shakes his head, “no way. Tell me what happened. What’s got you looking so dazed?”

“It’s noth—“ he halts. Maybe he can find some advice? Bokuto’s known for being a badass romantic after all. Maybe he can have something wise to say.

Like tell Kuroo you’re way out of his league and— what the hell is he even thinking, dating someone’s mom? Someone older than him, at that?

The words burst out of his mouth without warning:

“I think I like someone.”

Bokuto merely blinks. His face lights up, “well that explains it. Who?”

Kuroo’s arm swings to the back to scratch his neck, “it’s… one of the student’s mom’s.”

The last few words are said in a mumble, causing Bokuto to lean into his friend with a wide-eyed gaze, surprise flitting across his face when he realizes what Kuroo has just said.

“No,” the grey-haired man’s mouth turns into an “o” as he stares his friend down, “no way. Who?”

“I don’t think you know her. Sakura Kosuke?” Kuroo prompts.

“Sakura Kosuke…” Bokuto shakes his head in thought, “haven’t heard of that one. But—-Kuroo! I thought older women weren’t your style!”

“She’s not that old,” Kuroo’s face flames, “only by three years.”

"Who would've thought," Bokuto breathes out with a chuckle when a thought suddenly occurs to him, "wait-- it's not the chick who came by with the cake last weekend?"

Kuroo nods and awkwardly clears his throat, "yeah, the very same."

"Ha! If only I knew! I would've done my best to set you up!"

"It's not funny!"

But now that Bokuto has some leverage of information, he's definitely not going to let it go and Kuroo kind of regrets spilling the beans to him, of all people. That, and the probably fact that he’ll be spreading this news like wildfire across their friend group.

Thankfully, Kuroo’s schedule makes it that it’s hard to think about anything but work since midterm season is approaching for his other primary school colleagues. There’s after-school shows and events for every single activity and since he’s being asked to help for every single thing (because he’s the preschool teacher and, yeah! How come you don’t have any events planned for your preschoolers?!). Which means that he doesn’t have actual time to think about you, not even when he’s finally home and mustering up enough strength to brush his teeth, take a shower and dump himself in bed.

He does, however, collide head-first into you one week day as you’re hurrying out of the principal’s office, looking flustered and red-faced.

“Kosuke-san,” he takes a longing glance your rosy cheeks and felt his hand tingle with want. Just to see if it’s as soft as he imagines it to be? “You okay?”

“Kuroo sensei,” you run a hand through your locks and causing your hair to get even more disheveled, “hi, sorry— how are you? It’s been a while.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You’re looking a bit more greenish now that he sees you in the light.

“Yes I—“ your hands flutter up before you in an attempt to find an explanation, “—just came back from a meeting with Sakura’s teacher.”

“Oh?” Kuroo frowns, “what—nothing bad, I hope?”

“It’s just—well,” you try to chuckle but it comes out like a whimper, “apparently she got into a fight with one of the other girls in her class. Got a few injuries herself so…”

Your eyes are wet and it seems you’re half a second away from a breakdown. So it’s only natural for Kuroo to take a few steps closer to you before he whispers a soft, “hey hey, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you take a shaky breath, “it’s just been a long, hard morning.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo bites onto his lower lip, not sure what to do to make things better as he watches your chest move up and down in staggered breaths.

That’s when an idea hits him. He makes a grab for the back of your elbow and the smallness, the thinness of your limb takes him be surprise as he steers you out of the corridor.

And when your wide eyes flutter up to his, he quickly says something along the lines of, “I know a place. It’ll make you feel better.”

That’s how he finds himself dragging you to the nearby coffee place he always frequents— called Espresso Block— a small vintage bakery run by none other than his good friend Osamu Miya, as part of his expansion branch from his onigiri restaurants.

"Y/N!" Osamu greets as soon as he spots your face trailing behind Kuroo's tall figure. He pushes the raven-haired man aside with impatience before sauntering over and wrapping you up in a bear hug.

"Osamu," you breathe in the scent of baked croissants lingering on his uniform, "you're choking me."

"Oh--sorry," he drops you and grins sheepishly, that is before he registers that you're together with one of his friends, causing his eyes to narrow, "how do you two know each other?"

"Kosuke-san is Sakura's mother and she was having a bad day," Kuroo explains before he turns to you, "how do you know him?"

Did you imagine the five-second frostiness that came from his tone? Maybe not, as you reply, "he's my cousin. We grew up together. I taught him how to play volleyball back in primary school."

Kuroo's relief is instant. Thank god, it's not a close friend, nor is it a romantic partner candidate. His mood brightens instantly and without further ado he proceeds to lead you towards a table in the back.

He doesn’t fail to ignore the way Osamu’s eyes are following him all the way back to his table as he carries the two drinks — strawberry latte for him and a black coffee for you — and Kuroo can just hope that his dear friend can keep his distance until you've gone.

Becayse he's quite certain he will be subject to interrogation. Especially if you're that close to Osamu.

Placing the tray on the table, he takes out the mug and pushes it into your hands before finding his seat opposite you. You grab the cup between your two palms and take a deep breath as Kuroo sips on his latte.

The sweetness of the strawberry never disappoints. It’s refreshing and brings a smile to his lips. Osamu sure knows his desserts.

“I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you seem to have composed yourself from earlier. You take a small sip of your coffee and Kuroo watches in amusement as you shudder.

"Do you want some milk with that?" he can't help but ask.

You nod and look shameful, and Kuroo's heart squeezes with sympathy. Your eyes are tinged with aprons of blue and there are tired lines lining your eyes and the corners of your mouth. It's only when he comes back -- from having gotten some steamed milk from Osamu and a suggestive wink to match -- you dip your head into a nod and mumble out a soft 'thanks', eyes glued to the way the dark brown turned into a creamy latte.

"You could've asked me for a latte," Kuroo smiled to show that he didn't mind at all. But you winced.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't say sorry," he softened, "just--next time, you can tell me what you want, Kosuke-san. I'm not here to bite you...unless you want me to."

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise and Kuroo pinks at his words. They'd just slipped out on their own. It's not like he'd wanted to sound flirty when you're looking all shaky and worse for wear. He quickly clear his throat and tries to change the subject, "how are Sakura's injuries?"

"She's fine, got herself a bruised lip."

His eyebrows raise in surprise, "woah, that's still something."

"Yeah," you mutter and take another sip. And then another, "I hope this doesn't become a habit."

"I've taught Sakura since the start of this semester," Kuroo leans forward, elbows propped onto the table, "and I can tell you--she's anything but violent."

"I really hope you're right about this. I can't have her running around beating up everyone."

Kuroo stifled a small laugh, "to be honest, I think it's good she knows how to defend herself."

You shoot him a look and he can't help but laugh. And it's so contagious, the way it booms out of him like a melody, that you cannot restrain yourself from joining in.

"You're right," you say in-between chuckles.

"Maybe she got her mom's feisty spirit," Kuroo adds.

"No way. I was as silent as a mouse," you retort, "if she got anything like that, it's probably from her father's--"

You halt in mid-conversation, wanting to bite down your tongue for even mentioning him and quickly flash Kuroo a bashful smile in hopes he'll just brush it off, "sorry, let's not talk about him--"

"Kosuke-san, you really have to stop saying sorry all the time," Kuroo says with a grin, "it's not healthy."

"I know, I'm--" you catch yourself and he bursts out laughing once more at your face, "don't say it! No matter what!" he chides.

"Stop--" but you're grinning from ear to ear, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, "--Kuroo sensei, I hope you're not as playful with your students or they'd never learn anything from you."

"Course not," he winks, "I keep that solely for the pretty ladies."

His suggestive tone makes you blush despite it all and you look down at your coffee with the blush blazing so hard across your cheeks you swear everyone can see its colour from afar.

"I don't know how it is at home though," Kuroo's voice brings you out of your small bubble of warmth, "it must be tough handling Sakura all alone. Do you ever take a break?"

"Well, she goes to see her dad ever two weeks. But other than that, she's always with me unless my parents decide to come over. Which isn't as often as I would like."

"Why's that?"

"They live in the countryside and have a farm. It's hard for them to take days off, and I don't blame them not wanting to be around," your voice lowers to a mutter at the last few words, "especially after what happened with the marriage and all..."

"Marriages fail every time," Kuroo says gently then, "that too, isn't your fault."

"I wish my parents believed that," you let out a small laugh, "but they're right. We were too young to get married."

"But you have Sakura right? Isn't she worth it?"

His eyes, golden flecked and filled with so much hope and softness, meet yours from across the table. You suddenly feel a bit hot in your seat, wanting to squirm as you quickly look away from Kuroo's gaze because dear god, it's almost like he's ripping away, ripping apart every single layer of self-protection and preservation and reading you out like an open book.

"You're right," you clear your throat upon realizing he'd still been waiting for your response, "she is worth every single second. I wouldn't change anything about what happened. I just--I wish my parents could see it that way too."

"I think you spend a little too much time stressing about things you can't control," Kuroo takes another sip of his latte, "how about you learn to let go a bit? Maybe take the day off? Go hiking?"

"With Sakura?" you shake your head, "impossible, I--"

"Surely you have someone that can take care of her while you're gone," he tilts his head, jaw resting into one of his hands and making him appear all the more handsome.

Your thoughts flash to Atsumu. He's right, you could technically take a day off by dropping Sakura with the blonde. But she's not his responsibility and Atsumu has other priorities in his life rather than hang out with his niece. But Kuroo's persistence is strong and he makes you -- practically orders you -- to text him when he connects the dots that you two are also family.

"That guy can learn a thing or two about being responsible anyway," grins Kuroo, "so I'm sure he won't mind."

————

How did you end up here?

That's the question you keep asking yourself -- even when you're busy picking out your clothes only to realize that you barely have anything that's worth 'party material', even when you're attempting to do your makeup even though it's been almost three (or four?) years since you've tried to look your best because Sakura's wellbeing always came first.

Even when you're strapping up your black ankle boots, the question is getting drilled into your brain like a broken mixtape as you wonder whether this is a good idea after all.

"Go," Atsumu is firm when you call him for the nth time. It's five minutes until Kuroo's supposed to pick you up and feeling the pressure on your shoulders, you quickly decide to call your cousin in an emergency, "you have to do it, y/n. Stop making this all about Sakura. You need to be happy too."

"I am happy," was what you'd mumbled out in the phone receiver. You don't realize how tightly you're gripping the phone, so tight that your knuckles have turned white.

"I know you are, but you'll be happier if you live for yourself. At least for one night," Atsumu responds, "and Sakura's safe with me. And if ever there's an issue I'll call Osamu first to--"

"What?! No! No you call me first, okay?"

"Y/n please just relax. It's supposed to be a fun night."

You slump against the wall in defeat, "I don't even know why I'm doing this," you mumble mostly to yourself, though you're certain he can hear it too, "there's no point trying to prove that I'm content with my life. There are things that are going to leave me unsatisfied. I'm--I was fine with that, really."

"Are you though?" your cousin's voice is accusatory this time, "you're ready to live just for Sakura? Making her happy will make you happy too? Is this how it's supposed to work?"

"Technically yes, I'm her mother--"

"--And you've been left behind!"

The words are like a slap. You bite down onto your lower lip.

It draws blood.

You hiss, sucking on the skin as the metallic taste hits your tongue.

In truth, Atsumu has a point. You can't just live to make Sakura happy because that will ultimately destroy you. Not because she's not the only thing you need in your life. But because despite having your little girl being the center of your world, despite being able to sustain her with your career, you still feel like it's just yesterday when Aoi had upped and left you. His excuses, as pathetic as they had been, were arrows shooting straight into your heart. He left you crying into your pillow that night, hovering over your figure until you'd told him to 'get lost or I'll call the cops on you' before curling up on the small couch that you'd gotten rid of once he'd moved out for good.

So much pain. So much pain and haunted nights and obstacles that had come your way. That, along with caring for Sakura, had been a big hurdle. You remembered the long mornings, how hard it had been to drag yourself out of bed for the first few days. Atsumu had volunteered to stay with you then, giving you all the support you needed until you'd had enough strength to get back on your feet.

So he knew exactly what you'd gone through. Had seen it all first-hand. He wasn't kidding when he said you really needed to get laid. Somehow, he seems to have a valid point.

But it's been so long since you've left the dating scene that the thought of it makes you want to vomit.

"I'm sorry y/n, that wasn't cool." Atsumu's voice flows through the receiver like a lullaby and you take a deep, staggering breath, "I just--I know how hard it's been pulling your weight and caring for Sakura. It practically consumed your entire life. It's about time you get that motherfucker back for screwing things up--"

"Language," you tsk at him.

"You know what I mean," he replies impatiently, "So go out there, have fun. Get smashed. And at least do something to make you happy for a change. Alright?"

"Yeah okay," you mumble.

"And plus, you're with a bunch of guys that I know. They're cool. They'll keep an eye on you."

"Thanks mom."

"Anytime hun."

You can't help but giggle before you hear a car pulling up outside, "alright. I think my ride's here."

"Yeah, try to get laid okay--"

"Atsumu!" your cheeks flame, "I hope you're not saying all this in front of Sakura!"

A burst of laughter echoes from the receiver, "don't worry, miss Sakura is asleep. Have fun y/n! Take pictures!"

The drive there is less awkward than you'd imagined it to be, despite the fact that Kuroo's get-up does make your mouth salivate. And not just you. You realize a bunch of girls have him on their radar, from the stolen glances driven his way as you follow his broad back out of the parking and into the small terrace-looking entrance flanked by colored glowing palm trees.

"I haven't been in a club for like four years," you confess to him as you trudge into the queue. The air smells like cigarette and smoke. And something else. Something dangerous. It makes you giddy, you realize.

"Four years?" his eyes grow round as he looks down at you, "you have drunk before right? To the brink of passing out?"

"Like...maybe four years ago?"

His mouth opens, then closes. He shakes his head, a smile curving at the edges of his lips, "remind me not to drown you with tequila."

"I'll try my best."

You meet the rest of the gang upon stumbling into the club. It's dark and pulsating with music, with two dance floors separated by the DJ stationed on a platform right in the middle. Lights are bouncing off the space like crazy and all around you are moving bodies that writh and mold together until you're not sure where one ends and the other begins.

“Y/N! You’re here!” A drunk Hinata hooks an arm around your shoulder before steering you towards the bar, “you’re just in time! We were going for a round of lambos.”

“Lambos?” You balk and meet Kuroo’s eye, “you mean— Lamborgini’s?”

“Hell yeah!” Another one of the guys chimes in. It’s almost comical, the way they’re all stumbling against each other as you move like a congregation until you’re straight up in front of the barman.

“Ten Lambo’s please!” Hinata slams his card ontot he counter.

It brings back a wave of nostalgia, seeing the line of glasses and the way the bartender drops the alcohol in like he can do it with his eyes closed. You’re jostled and pressed against warm chests and shoulders, surrounded from all sides and yet, you feel safe with them all. That is, until you feel a soft brush against your elbow.

You turn to see Kuroo’s warm golden orbs.

“All okay?” He mouths to you.

You nod and give him a smile in return, and the grin that he cracks makes a troop of butterflies swoop into your stomach.

You look away just as Hinata thrusts a glass into your hands, “come y/n! This one’s on me!”

One shot becomes two. And two become three. Soon enough you find yourself on the dance floor and moving to the beat with one of the girls from the group— Yachi?— while the guys are trying to pay each other back their shots. The music vibrates through the floor up your body and flood your veins so that you get lost in it, ecstasy and the thrill of just being alive finally gushing through your brain, fogged up and amplified by the alcohol in your bloodstream.

It’s amazing. You feel free. Like nothing can stop you.

It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in a while.

After a while, you and Yachi decide to take a well-deserved break, stumbling over to the clustered seating space filled with red cushions as the boys scatter to find more alcohol. At this point you’re surprised that they’re still moving around and conscious, considering the amount they’ve drunk.

One of the boys— the one with the kind smile called Daichi— offers to get you guys some water as you take a seat, allowing your tired legs to take a break.

“I’m going to fine Hinata!” Yachi says into your ear and you nod before ushering her out of your way. There’s something between those two, a kind of tension that will develop into something more if they just allow it.

But you’re not one to meddle, not when your own love life’s a mess.

That’s when you notice.

It’s the lingering stare out of the corner of your peripheral that makes you turn your head.

Then you see him.

A tall, lanky man. He’s seated right opposite you, a drink in his hand and taking a swig. But there’s no mistake, for when his eyes meet yours across the room you can only jolt in shock.

You look away with embarrassment and disgust. Heat spreads to the back of your neck and goosebumps run up your arms. Suddenly, it’s a little too cold in this hot, sweaty club.

Why is he looking at you like that?

There’s no mistaking the intention. You risk one more glance and confirm that indeed, there’s a darkness in his eyes; the kind of a predator.

The kind that wants to strip you bare.

It’s unsetttling, unnerving.

Disgusting.

You don’t even hesitate. It’s like instinct for you jump off your seat with the only purpose to find Kuroo. But to your terror, the man starts to follow you. And soon enough it becomes a game of catch: of cat and mouse. You almost trip over your high heels as you push through the moving bodies as quickly as you can.

But the figure is there, hovering over you like a dark shadow that causes your heart to clench.

You bite back a whimper, pushing through a throng of girls as you frantically search for a sign of Kuroo’s familiar mop of hair. Or Hinata’s. Or just about anyone for that matter—

Bumping into a chest, you’re more than surprised as you let out a small yelp only to hear a familiar alto.

“Kosuke-san, everything alright?”

“K—Kuroo sensei,” your mumble is drowned in the beats of the music, eyes darting between his face and the dodgy man.

He’s now standing by the bar a few feet away from you. The same kind of withering stare that makes you wince.

Hurriedly, you turn to Kuroo and grip his shirt, wanting nothing more than to hide behind him, “I—uhm— there’s someone—“ the words jumble up as they pour out of your mouth and you find you can do nothing but grip his shirt for dear life, like Kuroo’s the only thing that can help you out of here.

Thankfully, he seems to understand your dilemma, for he puts a hand on your shoulder before steering you a little closer to him and away from the main path, a frown evident on his face, “what’s wrong Kosuke-san?”

But it’s only when he follows your fear-stricken eyes that Kuroo realizes there’s something — someone tormenting you. He recognizes the dark hunger, the prowling intent.

Instantly, his hand grips your waist. Tugs you closer.

You stumble into him, “Kuroo sensei—“

But Kuroo’s not having it. He stares the man down with a glower, longer body practically wrapped around yours in a protective embrace as he dares the man to do something, anything.

Try me, his eyes are saying, you’re not going to lay a single hand on her.

The stranger finally breaks eye contact after a few beats of silence and Kuroo keeps watch, golden eyes blazing until the man is nothing more but a memory of smoke as he disappears into the crowd.

Only then does he allow his hold to relax. Tilting down towards you. He murmurs out softly:

“He’s gone, Kosuke-san.”

You’re practically glued to him at this point, face buried in his chest and hands gripping so tightly onto his shirt that you might’ve grown claws. Kuroo nudges you gently once more, and that’s when you look up from the depths of his shirt.

The sight makes him almost coo because goddamnit even in the dim disco lights you look adorable. He has the sudden urge to pinch your cheeks and he’s glad his hands are somewhat occupied along your waist.

“You okay?” Is what he whispers.

You nod, looking a bit shaky and green int the face, “yeah—I’m—I’m fine. Thank you. He was—it scared me.”

“I know,” Kuroo draws away ever so slightly so he can have a better look at your face, “I’ll bring you home, alright?”

“No no it’s okay,” you shake your head and attempt a smile, but even Kuroo can see past those shaky lips, “you stay and have fun. I’ll call an Uber and—“

“Nonsense,” he grabs your elbow once more, “I’ll accompany you. C’mon.”

———

It’s definitely unnerving. It leaves you shaking with fear and you’re thankful for Kuroo’s strong grip on your arm as he maneuvers you out of the club.

The rush of cold wind hits your cheeks, leaving the soft beats of the club behind. Slowly, the world comes back into focus as the air rushes through your lungs and the sound bustling traffic in the distance is brought back into focus.

Only then do you realize how close you’re standing to the coach.

With a start, you stumble away with a muttered “sorry”, not daring to meet his eyes while quickly brushing off your clothes because dear god you weren’t sure what to do with your hands.

The uber arrives without much delay — thankfully — and the ride home is silent, almost as if there’s an awkward tension that has settled between the two of you. Away from the alcohol and now sobering up, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that you’d practically glued yourself to this man earlier. The act is so embarrassing you decidedly keep your gaze on the flurry of bustling streets and dim lamps flying by.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until a warm hand is shaking your shoulder, followed by a soft; “we’re here.”

You gasp, noticing that you’ve been pressed against Kuroo’s shoulder all this time.

“Oh,” you scramble away as quick as lightning, “I’m so sorry—“

His lips quirk upwards, “no harm done, senpai.”

You hate it when he calls you that. It makes you sound… old.

Nevertheless, you decide to be quiet as he accompanies you up to your flat, hands in his pockets while following you up the rusty stairs. You hope he’s not judging; it’s not like you have unlimited amounts of funding, what with Sakura’s education and activities.

“Well,” you finally reach the door to your flat and turn on your heel so that you face him, “thanks… for everything.”

"No problem," he's smiling down at you. Still so patient, still so happy to help. Your heart swells in your chest and you ask, "how are you getting back?"

"Oh, probably Uber..." he trails off, already turning away to fish his phone out of his pocket, "it's not far."

"Where do you live?"

You almost bawk when he tells you his address, because it's practically at the other end of town. He'll be there in forty-five minutes, at least.

The words are automatic, shooting out of you, "I'm so--"

But Kuroo's hand whips out, clamping over your lips. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, only to see the young man grinning like there's no tomorrow.

"You really need to stop doing that," he finally says before drawing back. Already, you're hit with the cold air following Kuroo's touch upon your skin, "I wanted to accompany you. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I know, but--"

He throws you another pointed look that has you clamping down on your mouth. You're about to say sorry once more because you're being a pathetic blubbery mess, but the look in his eyes makes you say a soft, "thank you" instead.

"You're welcome," and with one final grin and a wave to match, the school Coach disappears down the corridor, leaving you gazing at his broad back until his silhouette turns the corner and away from your sight.

[lazyalani]

| Michael Kaiser × F!Reader

| open ending, bittersweet, mixed signals, situationship, mihya doesn't know what to do, reader just wants him, oh shit toxic, a rollercoaster, impulsive writing, ooc, might be bad but might be good, fast pacing, idk, not proofread, wushu angst

| You're losing me

| Blue Lock Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

and i wouldn't marry me either

The clock read midnight yet here you are, still awake. It wasn't like it was uncommon for people to stay up so late, anyone could stay up all night watching tiktoks and reels, or playing games. It was just that you weren't exactly doing any of those, here you are, watching the ceiling, waiting for him. Always just waiting.

It's always like this, a never-ending cycle of cursing him, but then waiting, and then cursing him again, but then when he comes knocking again, you open up.

You've always been someone reliable when you're asked questions, especially ones about that bastard. Why is Michael Kaiser so good at soccer? Talent. Why is Michael Kaiser so popular with girls? Genetics and Money. Why is Michael Kaiser always on the news? Arrogance. Why does Michael Kaiser always has a say on something? Ego.

Why does he come to you instead of heading to his oh-so luxurious mansion he flawnted with his huge ego along with the piles of money on his account? That one, you couldn't answer.

You swear under your breath when you hear a knock.

And yet you let him in anyway.

a pathological people pleaser,

"Mien leibe, how are you, love?" He says with that sickly sweet smile on his face as he enters and puts his coat and training bag on the couch, a routine you've gotten used to.

The routine also included you just melting into his arms as he sinks in into your bed, enjoying a few moments of his ego ranting and then falling into silence before falling asleep.

But not today.

"Michael, why don't you go home for today?" You say as you turn your back on him, busying yourself with the fridge to avoid his stare.

He laughs and sits down on the couch. "Oh? What's this all of a sudden?" He crosses his legs, spreading his arms on the backrest.

You grip a drink on your hand, still having your back turned. "Just, you should go home."

Because the routine also included him leaving before you wake up, without anything, a note, or something to hold on to, and then proceeding to live out his career, his life, where you couldn't be, where you don't belong. Soccer, victory, celebrations, promotions, advertisements, brand deals, partnerships, modellings, media. Models and media.

who only wanted you to see her

You didn't even know where you stand in this glorious life of his. Why is he even here with you? Why is he sitting on this cheap couch instead of his throne like home? Why does he come to you instead of those models the media claim to be his girlfriend that changes every brand deal and sponsorships?

Why you?

But then it's hard to divert and change your thinking because it changes to Why doesn't he stay here with you? Why doesn't he say a word when he leaves? Why does he even leave? Why does he only come at night? Why does he not clear things up in the media? Why do you even want him to clear it up when you have nothing together? Why is he with those models?

Why not you?

and i'm fading thinking

do something, babe, say something,

He laughs it off. "I'm already here, you want me to leave again?" He snorts.

It wasn't his fault you were so insecure. It wasn't his fault you were being selfish. It wasn't his fault you were being demanding. It wasn't his fault you're assuming things. It isn't his fault because you knew those peaceful nights would eventually come to an end.

But then again, you were tired. So be selfish again, and so you want to stop and rest. You didn't want to play this mind game anymore, it was draining.

You can't fight a losing game. But it was humiliating to think that you were the only one fighting, just to still lose.

Somehow, you knew deep inside he had reasons. Reasons only the closest to his heart would understand.

This empire he was living in was something he built from a rock. The lavish and luxurious life he lived now was something not even the sun and moon could offer him, because this was a result of his blood and sweat. Nothing could ever come in between him and his most treasured gold, his empire, he cannot afford to lose it now. Not when he endured so much just to get to the top. You knew that.

And you were a threat to that.

You were something forbidden. A normal nobody who stood nothing against the world he belonged. You would ruin his image. You would ruin him. He cannot afford to have you. Not fully, atleast, which leads to your current, toxic situation.

lose something, babe,

risk something,

He can't bring himself to choose, huh?

Then you will decide for him.

A few moments of silence passed by, you let him process and sink that you were serious.

You hear the couch squeak as he switches his position on the couch, you finally turn to face him.

His arms propped on his knees as he leans forward, staring at you, as if discerning and trying to read your expression, your mind.

"Mien leibe," He slightly moves his head to side. "you should rest."

You let a smile slip as you stare at him.

He was always the same. Silky blonde with streaks of blue at the end, tattoo on his eyelids, the charismatic aura around him, handsome face, striking features, attractive body and voice. You never questioned how you fell for him. Because you knew who he once was behind the elegant facade. Before the money. Before the fame.

But it seemed like this was the life he was meant to live. This was the life he deserved. And this life didn't have you in it.

Putting down the drink, you approached him and bent down infront of him, cupping his face with your two hands and caressing his cheeks with a smile on your face. "Mihya, you've always been handsome, hm?" You slightly turned his face to sides, as if inspecting him. "I've always, liked your eyes." You whispered, voice almost too quiet. "The fire inside them never seemed to burn out."

His face hardens as he grips your hands and suddenly stands, pulling you up with him as he drags you to your room. "You're sleepy, love, let's go to bed." He says, face hard as stone, his grip hardening each second.

You stick your feet to the ground to stop you both. "Mihya, I'm tired."

"I know, that's why we're going to sleep." Before he drags you again, you hold his hand that was holding your other wrist.

"Michael, let's stop."

you're losing me

He chuckles humorlessly. "The only thing that needs to stop is your rambling, mien leibe. You're just tired from work, come on, let's sleep." He tugs again.

"Michael, I love you."

He stops and laughs emptily again. "Mien leibe, why are you doing this?"

"Mihya, I love you."

He shakes his head, eyes burning.

You cup his face again and press your foreheads together, his forehead on top of yours. "My precious Michael Kaiser, I love you."

You felt a tear drop on your cheek, but it wasn't yours.

Your heart contracted painfully seeing his red stained eyes.

"Why are you crying, my love?" You wipe away his tears with a smile.

"What are you saying all of a sudden?" He touches your hands on his cheeks.

"Is it wrong to say it infront of the one I love?"

"Stop saying that."

"Infront of my love?"

"Mien leibe, stop it."

"I love you, Kaiser."

"Stop it."

"Mihya, I—"

He grabs your shoulders and looks at you. You can't seem to read his expression. Is he mad? Angry? Sad? Disappointed? Furious?

"What will it take for you to stay?" The shake in his voice betrays his hardened face.

You shake your head. "Michael..."

"Do you want me to spend the day with you? Do you want to go out? Do you want to watch movies and eat all day? I'll fucking clear my schedule if that's it."

You kept shaking your head, tears falling with his.

"Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?"

You let out a sob when he drops on his knees and hold your hand.

"Stand up, Michael Kaiser!"

"Don't do this to me, mien leibe." He presses his forehead on the back of your hand. "Please..." He whispers against it. "I can't lose you. Not you."

"But you can't lose everything either." You say, dropping on your knees with him.

choose something, babe,

i got nothing to believe

You craddle his face with your hand.

"Please don't make me choose, I can't... I can't... I can't..." He kept shaking his head and repeating the same words.

Your heart contracted again at his desperation.

"I can't do this without you, mien leibe, but I don't want to go back anymore. I don't want to go back there anymore. Don't do this please, please, please, please..."

You were the only reminder of his past that he couldn't throw away. You were the only one who knew the real him. You were the only one who's genuinely proud of who he's become. You were the one thing no one could ever take away from him. But not if you were the one solely and willingly going away.

"Look at me, Michael. Are you not the greatest in this world? You've been strong, you can be stronger than this. You can be greater, even better, you don't need me. You never needed me, Mihya."

No, you were wrong. He thinks. But he can't get the words out his mouth. So many things circulating in his mind, he cannot even think anymore.

"You don't have to choose, Michael." You kiss his forehead. "I'll choose for us."

He stands up and leads you in the room, this time, you come with him. He lays you on top of him, enjoying a few moments of silence just like before.

You bring your face up from his chest to look at his face.

It was scarily devoid of anything, but the gentle hand on your hair calmed you.

Your rose up from his chest and brought your face above him, arms pressed on he sides of his head.

He stares up at you, fingers combing through the locks of your hair falling down, acting like a curtain, still devoid of any emotion.

You press a kiss on his lips, he presses you down further to prolong it.

"Once you've decided to settle down and finally have your peace, Michael..." You whisper against his lips.

He blinks at you, face still empty.

"Find me in the future, and maybe, maybe, we wouldn't have to be in another life."

[dsireland86]

Hello! I have a dad!Noah request that i cant stop thinking about!!

Can you please do something where bad omens is playing a show and its Noah’s daughters 1 year birthday, his daughter and wife are up in the balcony of the venue watching the show and Noah points them out to the crowd and does something special for his daughters first birthday? 🤍

This has been a long time coming! Thank you to the Anon, who requested this and has waited so respectfully and patiently for me to get it out. 🤗🤗🤗

1st Birthday

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12@sister-sebastian

The birth of his baby girl was the proudest day of Noah's life, next to marrying you. Even though the birth plan didn't go as expected and there was a close call, everything turned out just fine in the end. His daughter was the most perfect thing in the world to him, next to you, of course. She looked like you, except she had a full head of dark hair like Noah's and his brown eyes, instead of your green.

As Baby Davis grew, she became the apple of her Daddy's eye. Noah spoiled her rotten, not just with things, but with his love, too. When she cried in the middle of the night for whatever reason, Noah got up with you, and unless she fell asleep on you, he was the one to get her back to sleep. Middle of the night cuddles were some of Noah's favorites.

Now, it was her 1st birthday, and unfortunately, Noah and the guys were on the road. Noah hated it, grumbled, and complained the whole day because he should've been home, celebrating his baby girl's 1st birthday. Already having a plan in motion, you kindly told him you understood that the date couldn't be changed because of availability and that there would be plenty more birthdays to celebrate. Your love, patience, and understanding were things Noah never took for granted. Brushing tears away, he hung up the phone, completely oblivious to the smiles on his bandmates' faces.

The show that night had begun. Noah tried to give it all, suppressing the feelings of sadness for not being with you and his daughter, but it just didn't work. What was worse was that Noah hadn't heard from you since early this morning, sending his head reeling with the worst thoughts. His heart was hurting a little too much tonight, and it was starting to show.

As the smoke cleared and the clear lights came on, Jolly stepped out on the stage first, strumming the soft chords of the band's most popular song. Noah teared up again, not sure if he could go out and just pretend he was fine when he wasn't. But he looked out and saw all the many, many faces of the people who came to see him and his bandmates and realized he owed it to them.

When his tear-filled eyes scanned the balcony, they stopped quickly, paralyzing Noah where he stood. The faces staring down at him were a blur at first, but after clearing his eyes, he saw them standing there beyond all the noise and lights. You were standing directly in the middle of the balcony, holding your daughter, who was nothing but a bouncing bundle of happiness. You waved to him smiling and blowing him a kiss, making him smile in return as he pretended to catch your kiss.

Noah was in shock as questions ran through his mind, questions like how you managed to get here so fast, did any of the guys have a hand in this, and why would you go through all of this trouble? Whatever the answers were, he didn't care at the moment. All he wanted to do was go out there and perform his best for the fans who paid money to come see his band play.

Noah gripped the microphone stand, holding it as if it was the very thing keeping him up at the moment. He looked over at Jolly, unable to hide the tears glistening in his eyes. He smiled at his friend who grinned back at him, making Noah huff a light laugh. When the bridge came, Noah looked up and waved to his family, laughing when you took your daughter's hand and waved back at you. The little girl giggled and bounced in her mama's arms, making Noah's heart well with pride and joy.

"I want everyone to do me a favor. Pull out your phones, lighters, whatever you have, and hold them up in the air as high as you can get them. Good, good, very nice, good job. Now, if you would look toward the balcony, directly in the middle and wave to my sweet family, who've flown all the way out here to see us perform tonight." The crowd did as Noah asked, making you feel completely embarrassed. Noah smiled, laughing as you glared at him with your dark green eyes. "Hold on, love I'm not finished," he said to you, and the place erupted with light laughter. "Tonight is the most special night of this band's history, you wanna know why? Because that precious little girl up there, being held by her mama, my wife, is turning a year old today." The entire venue filled with applauses, whistles and shouts of happy birthday

By this time, Nick, Jolly, and Folio had paused the song, waiting for what was coming next, already having a pretty good idea. "I need y'all to help me sing "Happy Birthday" to my baby girl. Her daddy had to be here tonight and it really hurt me to be away from her on such a momentous occasion. But lucky for me, I married a woman who is the kindest, most caring, most loving and of course, the most beautiful person I know. She made it possible for me to celebrate the life of my daughter tonight with my family. So, please help me sing.

The crowd came to life, louder than they had that night as Matt embarrassed you even more by putting a spotlight on the two of you. Noah watched how you focused your attention on Baby Davis, watching the beautiful glow of your aura shine brightly. He suddenly needed to be near you.

Jumping from the stage and making his way through the crowd, Noah climbed the staircase to the balcony, thankful to the people who parted and made a way for him to get straight to the two of you. He gathered both of you up in his arms and kissed you hard yet so full of passion and it took your breath away. "I love you, so fucking much," he laughed, laying his forehead on yours. He took his daughter from you, kissing her sweet little cheeks and hugging her tightly. The audience cheered, making Noah's heart flutter with happiness and making this the best show Bad Omens had ever played.

[justevelynnnn]

I want to be more

Summary: You work in a brothel in the early 1900s after WW1. You had few clients but just started having one regular. He was solider. You fall for him only after a few times of meeting. You soon wanted to be more than…whatever this is.

Warnings: Cussing, Reader is a woman, prostitution, smut mentioning throughout, alcohol consumption, signs of limerence, angsty ending

(this is barely proofread too)

A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere..i’m so happy with it though. I had fun incorporating 1920s slang into this too. I think i have an idea for a part 2 but that might come later..

It was a cold winter day. Clients came in less when it was cold, not wanting to travel through the snow. Only the really, truly libidinous would come during these times. You enjoyed it. A break. But with breaks came no money being made.

The owner was generous enough to let you and a few others stay in your private rooms and live there. You’ve been here for 5 years now. A job is a job. It paid enough for you to scrape by. Not that you really enjoyed it.

You got used to it quick. At least, as used to it as you could. As one could. At first, you were a nervous, naiive olive, but now you’re a stronger, almost street smart woman. You knew how to handle yourself, how you should be treated. Men knew now to respect you. To not try and get out of paying or overstep boundaries.

You drank often to hide any pain. Forget any and all traumas. You always were tipsy if it could be helped when it was time to work. It made it…easier. Lighter.

The brothel itself was nice. Spacious. Luxurious. A blind tiger as most described it. Disguised as just a fancy bar for any authority figures who passed by.

You got paid well because of this by each client but really only ever made just enough for rent some food and maybe a dress or something else. You weren’t too popular to get many clients. Most men you had were Soldiers from the war. Occasionally, if you looked nice enough, an egg or wealthy man. Most of them were married. Older. Drunks, whether it was a secret or not.

You didn’t care for them. They didn’t care for you more. It was just business.

But there was one man who was different. One man who stood out to you. Who made you feel something other than a deep disgust.

His name was Logan Howlett.

He was young seeming, never telling his age. He just got back from the war. Obviously worn down by the trauma he possibly witnessed. Eyes told it all as well like many other soldiers. He always drank. Sometimes smoked a cigar. But always went right up to you.

At first, you almost refused him. He was dirty, and swaying around. He gave you a damp crumpled up $50 and mumbled about your hips and eyes. He smelled a bit too-

But then he pulled out another $50. You were convinced now. $100! was alot. You’d choke this encounter down too.

But he was surprisingly good. He didn’t just fuck you. No. He made love to you. He was soft. Gentle. You were almost taken aback. He treated you like glass. He actually even licked your core, something 90% of your clients ignored. Until you came 3 times you didn’t see his manhood.

He fell asleep next you, exhausted and sad. He was a sad drunk. He told you how he wanted to marry you, how he wanted to run away from everything with someone. Most men would confess things to you either before or after. But you ignored a lot because they were often drunk, like Logan.

Logan logan logan.

His first encounter with you left an impression.

A week passed and you still couldn’t get him off your mind. It was almost depressing. And just when you felt like he’d never return, he did.

He walked in, head down. Sat at the bar for an hour just drinking. And then he looked for you. You didn’t go up to him, just to see how long he’d look before he settled for another. But he never did. He keep looking. Looking and looking and walking and walking.

Then he saw you and walked up to you quickly. A hug. A drunken, messy hug and kiss.

“I never got your name, dear..” He whispered. He could barely stand.

Did you want him to have your real or work name?

“It’s y/n.” You said softly.

“y/n……… y/n…” Logan repeated slowly. “Beautiful li’you. Pretty girl…”

You could barely hear him. He had his hand in your lower back that horribly distracted you. A soft, “your mine” hold. Possessive. Different from other men.

You started to love the taste of whiskey just because you always tasted it on his lips. You started to love the faint scent on cigar on his hairy chest. Dog tags hitting you in the face has he thrusted into you. The way he held you like you’d get away. Treated you like you weren’t just a couple of wet holes but a human. A woman. Even drunk he was somewhat of a gentleman.

You wonder why he chose you. Why did ever go to you. Did he go to other brothels too? He seemed infatuated with you and you him.

You told the other women about him after the fifth time. They barely believed you. A bit of jealousy filled the air as they were rarely, if at all, treated so lovely. No, everyone was just holes. Just holes. Eye candy and holes.

The next time Logan came some women tried to climb on him. They offered him discounts. You almost wanted to fucking spit. He wasn’t yours though so why did you feel like this?

It made you damn near giddy as you watched him shoo them away like flies. Almost disgusted. Like he was some virgin waiting for marriage. Like it was almost rude for women to act like that despite where he was. The women huffed and walked away, some back to their rooms and others to other men. A couple have you a glance or so but said nothing.

You just waited for Logan to come back to you and touch you and treat you like you were more.

You felt spoiled.

He really acted like you two were going together. You began to wonder if he was courting you in some odd way.

Rumors started amongst the women who cared that you two were dating and you almost got put out. The number one rule was to never date your clients. Ever.

You assured he was just stuck on you or something and it wasn’t your fault. That he paid you the best. Out loud you say money, in your head you say attention.

He certainly becomes all you think about. Oh yes. Ohhh yes. You started noticing little details. His beard that was sometimes shaven. His hair. How it smelled. How it was the only soft thing on him. His nose. He once confessed he hated it but you loved it. He let you ride it once. Amazing experience.

And was such a sex magician. That’s how’d you describe him anyways. He was awfully skilled. You really wondered if he got practice before you. And how much?

You learned bits and pieces about him after sex. He’d lay there and talk about the war. Why he drank sometimes. How me missed his family. How he wished he was “normal”. Normal huh.

You never spoke much. You didn’t have anything but this. Your home life and childhood was rough, obviously leading you here. You had no special talents or dreams really. You recently has some interest with becoming one of those flapper women. But he was the first bit of true excitement you had in a while.

Logan stopped coming for a while. This time you were sure he wouldn’t return. The first week was horrible. You laid in bed like a rag doll as men used you, thinking about how Logan would at least butter you up before anything started. You mindlessly counted money as you wondered where Logan could be. You drank and drank to try and forget but he left such an impression on you it didn’t work.

The other women “comforted” you, but deep down we’re happy you were back to their level, with no special clients.

“You shouldn’t get so attached to the clients!”

“It was fun while it lasted huh now, sweets? Oh, i experienced the same thing.”

“An odd cat he was…maybe it’s for the best.”

You ignored it all. You didn’t care for any of that shit. Fuck it all. You just wanted him back.

Did he even care for you the way you did him? Would he even remember you? Did he? He was so drunk sometimes….you couldn’t tell if he cared at all. He remembered your name sure but that was it. You just couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

These deep feelings.

Limerence.

There was passion that drove you crazy. You felt like you were going crazy.

Days blurred. Holidays passed. Men came and went. Take that both ways.

But this cold winter day, he returned. You were sitting on a stool, drinking again. It was just your 3rd.

You hear the door open and the little bell rang. Heavy footsteps. Leftover snow underneath crushing under boots. You turned around as you felt the presence behind you, getting ready to say your prices and hours assuming this man wanted your services.

However, you stopped mid breath as you turned and saw… “….Logan?”

He took his hat off and nodded. He quietly sat next to you and stared into your eyes. He was sober but had dark circles.

“I been busy you see..” He starts, his breath smells of straight cigar. “Th’s why i haven’t been around.”

You’re buzzed and you think you’re dreaming. You’re sure you look a mess right now.

“I missed you, Lo..” You whispered.

Logan looks away. He sighs. He says nothing for a long while. It worried you. Did you cross a boundary? Was it too far?

“That’s the issue, doll.”

Logan turns to look you in the eyes, brows furrowed. Your heart rate picks up but you felt a heartbeat elsewhere after the nickname came out his mouth. Doll..

“Wait-” You start but he puts a finger to your lips.

“You are a prostitute baby. I’m…a mess. A drunk vet. Addicted to giggle water. You don’t want me. It don’t make sense. We’ve gotten too deep into this. I come for a quick fuck and then back to reality as it should be. You don’t want this, pretty..”

You feel your heart break. You sober up a bit too.

“It don’t feel quick to me. You treat me like i’m human. You the only one.” Your voice cracks a bit. You are also a sad drunk most days so the alcohol was not helping you process this situation properly.

Logan has an unreadable look on his face. He shakes his head soon after and licks his lips. He’s thinking. Maybe you caught him off guard? The lobby was suddenly very quiet even though it’s been like that the whole time. Just you, Logan and the bartender. There was a woman in the corner but she was preoccupied with a man herself, paying no mind to you or Logan.

You want to puke.

“Logan-”

“Close your head, woman. You stuck on me or something?” He says a bit sharp.

You just nod biting your lip. Suddenly you’re drunk again. The room is spinning a bit and you couldn’t sit straight with a constant nagging to go hysterical.

“We can’t keep doing this. We just can’t.” He says not looking you in the eye anymore. “We can’t.”

“Oh, applesauce…why not?”

“Because we can’t. You listening? You must be zozzled. Listen to me, you don’t want this. I’m telling you.”

“But, i do want you. It’s all i want now. You’re all i want now. Please, Lo. Don’t leave me here.”

“Y/n…”

“I want to be more than this.” You spit out. Logan freezes. He almost looked scared for a second. A tear falls out your eye as Logan gets up swiftly after you say it.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

You say nothing. He hands you a $100 and tells you to buy something nice. You watch, sadly, as he goes out the door.

You swivel back around.

“I need everything this can buy please.” You hold up thr $100 to the bartender. He looks at you like you have two heads but starts getting many cups out.

You’re going to be drinking for days.

[dykedvonte]

This was an ask from skull anon I accidently posted early so ignore that here is it actually completed. Crew voice claim first!

Anya - Janine Ditullo. She doesn't really have any big roles but she's Brendan's mom from the show Home Movies. She's snarky in a way I think Anya would be before anything went down.

Curly - Craig T Nelson. Specifically as his role Coach. Think he also has a sort of middle age voice

Daisuke - Greg Cipes but specifically when he's voicing Kevin Eleven as a teen and his voice has that deeper register. I think he just sounds a little punkish.

Jimmy - Steve Buscemi specifically in Parting Glances. I don't think his voice is loud but more shrill? He's a nasally fellow to me whose voice is intimidating because it shouldn't be so when he says stuff it just sound wrong. Like Randall Boggs. He'd be on his kin list. He's scarier when he's quiet.

Swansea - Ed O'Neill just because I think Jay (Modern Family) fits his general demeanor but also Al (Married with Children). Sort of rough, dry and tired but with that sort of comfort only a dad could have.

Now for other general stuff:

Anya knows how to finger quilt, tried to show Daisuke but he just can't get it, secretly smug about it.

Curly is like a gym bro sim. A good distressor for him is either jogging around the Tulpar or like working out like a freak in his room.

Daisuke has a shitty moped he bought himself after a summer of mowing lawns. It was his first purchase with his own real money and he got attached cause his parents were super proud!

He also thinks it makes him look badass even though it sputters every time he starts it.

Swansea likes taking pictures with his family and wife and even the crew but treats it like a whole ordeal. Fusses about people fixing their faces but is always happy with the results no matter how goofy

Jimmy refused to let Anya sleep in medical after crash. He explained it as not wanting to "disturb" Curly...

Swansea once accidently called Daisuke one of his kids names when he got irritated with him. Made the kids day in a way

Curly does not react to any level of sour, likes citrus and calls it sweet and refreshing, war heads are like jolly ranchers to him.

Anya has a very nice singing voice and Daisuke happily jokes and encourages her to get into the indie scene. Did choir as a kid

Jimmy knows a bit of Spanish through osmosis from jobs he's worked. Mostly knows how to talk shit and directions

Tells Curly he's mostly just saying basic stuff but its real vitriolic towards him that he just translates to like general compliments/jokes. He is still just a WHITE man

Anya reads who done it mystery murder books and makes fun of all the obvious twists and how they glaze the detective MC.

Curly lets Jimmy sit in the Captain's seat because when he doesn't Jimmy is noticeably meaner and more scathing to him.

Anya was planning to get a cat after a conversation with Curly about feeling lonely living in her apartment. Was gonna name it Polle as an in joke before everything happened....

Sexuality speed round: Anya is bi no real preference, very open about it. Curly doesn't label himself and kinda just goes with the moment. Daisuke is bi but a larger preference for girls, has a friend that everyone thinks he dating tho. Swansea had experiences in his youth and that's all he'll say on it other than a few comments here or there. Jimmy is straight but in a way where you here him talk about gay people and know he's current experiences... like the other day.

Yeah heres some more I always hold back cause like what if y'all don't want all of them at once? I think they all had family dinner as a crew but it always felt like an awkward thanksgiving with your family from a wide political spectrum... ergo Jimmy always said some shit and make someone storm off from the table.

[lotus-pear]

rewatched bsd w my friend seeing it for the first time and the nostalgia of seeing these two together again hit me like a bus

[hope-was-a-disquieting-thing]

Neil: Wait, you can't kill me! I have a husband!

Kidnapper: And what makes you think I care about that?

Neil: Oh no this isn't a plea for mercy. It's a warning.

Kidnapper: Wha-

Andrew *breaking down the door, knives in hand looking marginally pissed*: Neil.

Neil: Oooh, you're in trouble now.

Andrew: Bold of you to assume I'm here for him. I warned you what would happen if you got kidnapped again junkie.

[worstloki]

sigyn that married loki like ages ago so when it comes out he's jotun she's like. 'well it's a bit late to do anything about that'

[autism-alley]

Honestly another thing that annoys me about Gabe's death in the show is that the downplayed nature of the abuse makes his fate, for lack of a better word, inappropriate. Gabe being an explicitly physically and emotionally abusive bastard was what warranted him dying in the book. Yes, he is still financially abusive in the show, but he's more of a pathetic slob than a monster. Contemptable, sure, but hardly worth killing. At best, his death is a tasteless gag. At worst, it's disproportionate retribution.

fr like. after the first episode i was like well what the hell are they gonna do at the end of the series? from episode one it was always gonna be either don’t kill off the loser and commit to erasing a woman and her child’s story of surviving abuse, or do kill off the loser and have it be a completely unjustified killing (not only bc of the reduced abuse but bc they outright state sally divorced him!! book sally had no other alternative divorce financially was Not on the table!!). he might have been killed by his own hand in-universe, but the writers made that call, purposefully, to condemn his actions so severely they warrant death. i’ve seen people who don’t even believe his death was warranted in the books just out of the principle all killing is wrong—my opinion is firstly it’s fiction but secondly it sends a pretty clear fucking message that you don’t get to be an abusive fuck and walk away scott-free. self-defense and justice have a right to serve consequences, and sometimes those consequences are your wife with righteous blood lust and a desperate need for education funds