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thedensworld · 5 months

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I Can Fight | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear revealing clothes. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.

Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰

It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.

Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.

"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.

As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?

Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.

As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.

"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.

"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.

Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.

Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."

You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."

"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.

You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."

Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."

A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.

Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.

"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.

Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.

As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.

"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.

You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."

Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."

A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"

Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."

Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.

"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.

A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.

He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.

His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.

***

You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.

As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.

"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."

Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.

As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.

"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.

A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.

You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.

"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.

You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.

Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.

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d0youc0py · 1 year

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hii - 🍄

can you do the 1-4-1 letting you climb on their back? they carrying you or letting you rest on top of them (they face down ofc)

Guess it’s about time I had some fluff on my page

You couldn’t shake the last mission. You had been doing this for a little over two years now, but it had been the first time you had truly been scared. Ghost had said a near death experience would do that to you. Considering how many he’s had, you believed him.

You groaned, throwing your light comforter off of you. You had tried everything you could think of to fall asleep, but the clock beside your bed proudly displayed the early morning hours. You were exhausted- and desperate. You stood up, wrapping yourself in your comforter, making your way down the hall.

A hesitant knock at his door woke him up from his light sleep. The lightness of it didn’t cause a sense of urgency in his being.

“Lieu?” You asked softly, opening the door just a crack. He groaned from his bed, his shoulders cracking as he stretched out against his mattress. “Can I sleep in here?”

He hummed in agreement. He could recognize the strain in your voice. Insomnia was a bitch. He suddenly felt bad he didn’t come and check up on you. He hushed his brain, reminding himself he had a reputation to uphold. ‘Some reputation’ he thought as you quickly crawled on top of him, pressing your face against his muscled back. He swatted away the butterflies in his stomach at the realization of just how perfect you felt against him.

“Since when did you start sleeping on your stomach?” You questioned, already feeling your eyes droop.

“Don’t have my mask on.” He responded through his own yawn.

“Oh I’m sorry”- You quickly moved to get off of him, but he wrapped his arm behind him holding you close.

“Don’t make it weird.” He grumbled against his pillow. “Plus it’s about time you had my back.” You could feel his smirk. A small snort escaped you.

“Yes sir.” You hummed curling against him.

“I can see everything from up here.” You hummed, resting your chin against his broad shoulder. He didn’t respond with words, but his hands squeezed the back of your thighs. “You annoyed at me?” You questioned, placing a fleeting kiss behind his ear.

“Never.” He responded quickly. He had told you to not wear those shoes, but they just went so perfectly with your outfit… About halfway into your date painful blisters started to arise, and John being the perfect gentleman he was wouldn’t allow for such marks on your body. “You gonna listen to me next time?” He turned his head giving you a playful side eye.

“Promise.” You whispered, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck. “John?”

“Mmm?” He hummed.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

You were lucky he was use to keeping steady footing, because that comment just about had him on the ground.

“You’re very handsome Jo.” You whispered. He could feel you smile against his shoulder blades. He flushed at your words, a red tint rising across his shoulders. “So many freckles.” You mumbled absentmindedly. You connected them with your fingers, not being able to hold back from kissing the larger ones.

His skin rippled under your touch, so sensitive. His skin was hard and strong, the soft feeling of your padded fingers completely foreign.

“Thank you.” He murmured, his brain finally managing to catch up with your words. He was too busy engraving this moment into his brain. “Do you like them?” He whispered, referring to the spots that decorated his back. He cringed at his own words. Why did he make himself sound so pathetic? Begging you to complement him. He was so confident, but when it came to you that seemed to fade. You were so perfect in his eyes, he couldn’t help but crave to know if you felt the same way about him.

“Very much.” You hummed against him.

You woke up in the middle of the night, your hands instinctively patting around the bed for a familiar body. He huffed in his sleep as your hand collided with his shoulder.

“You alright?” He asked sleepily, beginning to roll over.

“You keep moving away from me.” You grumbled, pressing yourself against his warm back.

“Not a chance.” He yawned, throwing an arm behind him, holding you against him as he rolled onto his stomach. Even in your sleepy haze you felt giddy. This was the best sleeping spot in the entire world. His back was always warm and he had the perfect combination of muscle and soft skin.

“I miss this when your gone.” You don’t know why you said it and you regretted it when you felt his body tense.

“I know baby.” He sighed, his hand reaching down to grip your thigh. “You know I do whatever I can to make sure you don’t loose this, yeah?” He assured, turning his head.

“I know. I’m sorry Ky, don’t know why I got so dark all of a sudden.” You apologized, peppering his shoulders with kisses.

“Don’t sweat it.” He smiled back at you. “It’s good for me to hear too.”

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zzeraphilm · 4 months

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Fight For Me (II)

Part one Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader (GN) word count: 3,803 Summary: When industries collide, Kuroo is reunited with the one that got away. But nobody is pleased to see each other.

“Oh Y/N!” Alisa Haiba screeched, bringing her old friend into a hug. “I’m so glad you took the role! Ah I can finally have a friend amongst my team.”

With a laugh, Y/N only rubbed their friend’s back lightly, not to crease her outfit that will soon be shot in the new YSL photoshoot. It had been back in Melbourne did Y/N L/N and Alisa Haiba became acquaintances. At first it took Y/N a while to realise how they recognised Alisa, thinking it was just because they saw her face plastered on every major billboard on their way to campus. But the illusive fantasy of a celebrity was shattered when she spoke in her accented English and their high school memories came flashing before their eyes. From that day forward, their worlds collided.

After a gruelling last ditch push to complete their masters, Y/N was lucky to have Alisa as one of their few friends in Tokyo. Since coming back to Japan, Y/N had forgotten how lonely the city could be. How they would blend into the crowd of faces, becoming another statistic on a long list of residents. They hated the city, they hated how the streets they used to walk down during high school remain untouched, how the faces of the shop owners only grow older, their frowns sagging to the floor. Getting out of Japan felt liberating, to come back to it all Y/N found themselves wallowing in the same self-pity that they found themselves suffering with during their teen years. Alisa was a reminder of the world outside of the city, she allowed Y/N to follow her on trips and try new exciting things to brighten their full life. When Alisa became the face of YSL Japan and her modelling career expanded beyond Asia, Y/N was thrilled to join their friend at the request to be her assistant public relations secretary.

If I could get Alisa to be the most known face across the globe, I can finally start my life again, out of Tokyo.

The desire to finally leave Japan behind, leave their past behind and explore the world beyond. Maybe, that could get rid of the sour taste in Y/N’s mouth every time they thought of Tokyo.

Despite their extensive years in academia, books could not compare to reality. Piles and piles of paperwork, emails and meetings meant Y/N lived and breathed the Haiba siblings. Being a part of Alisa’s PR team meant being a part of Lev’s, it was a given to see the fellow Nekoma alumni at work. At first, Y/N was resentful. Nekoma was supposed to be long past them, just a floating memory of guilt and regret. Lev was advised by his sister to not pester Y/N about high school, about anything related to Nekoma especially anything about Kuroo. The first few months with the Haiba siblings were stressful. Lev was growing increasingly popular amongst younger fans, booking him on daytime television to speak about his latest projects was a breeze. More fans meant more fan meets and thus more work for Y/N.

More work means bigger reach, and getting even closer to leaving.

With winter around the corner, Y/N knew there would be an exponential growth in events that would need to be covered. Press conferences, online campaigns, brand collaborations. Whenever Y/N closed their eyes, all they could see was the Haiba siblings plastered on the inside of their eyelids. Amidst the pile of work, Y/N noticed a oddly hand written note;

‘Please please pleaseeee consider this one! I wanna work with Kenma and Chibi-chan T^T’

Lifting up the sticky note, the title page screamed out to Y/N.

“Bouncing Ball Corp ft. Hinata Shoyo and Lev Haiba.”

“Helloo~”

“Where’d you get this plan from? Who gave it to you? Is this some kind of joke? You’re a high end luxury brand model with limited television guest appearances, what makes you think I’d let you represent sports now?” Y/N’s voice boomed into the phone, causing Lev’s eardrums to burst and bleed from the noise shattering scolding on the other end of the call.

“Kenma gave it me! He said his team told him it would be good to reach out to other famous people who knew!” He whined.

It was partially the prospect of being with Kenma and Hinata again, but more so, he craved the feeling of slamming a volleyball with his bare hands again. After years of maintaining his pristine image, his calloused hands had smoothened out, as soft as a baby’s bum. He was yearning for the thrill of the game again.

“No. This proposal makes no sense anyways. Who even wrote this?”

“Well it was someone on Kenma’s side! Anyways, he’s got a hugeee following on Youtube and Twitch! All people talk about on Twitter is his stuff! Y/N you’ve always wanted a big international gig, and I’ve found us one! Please, please, please, pleaseeee!” If Lev wasn’t in public he would’ve been on his knees begging, kissing Y/N’s feet till they said yes.

Indeed, all Y/N needed now was a major international break for the siblings, if they could book either a global brand ambassador position or an American modelling debut, then Y/N could finally relocate to anywhere but Japan. The Tokyo smog blocked their lungs each daily commute to work, the buildings never changed and the familiar scents of old stores and parks they used to frequent as a student became sickening.

“Give me Kodzuken’s contacts and we’ll see.”

It was a wild goose chase to get the right person to contact. Email, after email. More and more useless contacts that lead Y/N to no helpful responses. Different representatives of Kodzuken and Hinata Shoyo till finally the Japanese Volleyball Association. After two weeks of this ordeal, Y/N was finally sent through to the person in charge of organising the project. But of all people, it just so happened to be Kuroo Tetsurou. Shit.

Despite getting to chase around his old volleyball rivals across the world for scouting, interviews and just regular catch ups. Kuroo hated the mundane parts of his job, emails and project meetings. Managers up his arse about deadlines. His fingers were beginning to cramp into a contorted version of itself with all the typing he had to endure. He swore his email page was burned into the scleras of his eyes.

Ping.

Another one to the read later pile. It was fifteen minutes till the end of his shift, he wasn’t going to stay for overtime this week, he had made plans with Kenma tonight. After weeks of rejection, the self-made entrepreneur finally was willing to leave his room to grab a drink with his long time friend. Before he could shut off his monitor, he read the Sender’s name.

L/N Y/N.

Holy fuck.

He thought he had buried the last sparks of affection he had for Y/N the morning they blocked them. But no, like a phoenix, the embers within him burst into an inferno. Nothing could quench the burning desire he held inside. Kuroo had forgotten where he was, he was no longer stuck in a mechanical cubicle with the robotic tapping of keyboards echoing throughout the room. He was back in his Nekoma uniform, back with Y/N by his side. He could smell them, touch them and most of all kiss them. Their laugh was ringing in his head, he was high on their perfume. Kuroo begs to any mighty power above him or anyone who could hear his heart, for his yearning to cease. He thought he could leave it all behind but his body, no his soul calls for Y/N.

A few clicks was all it took and he plummeted to the pitiful man he once was without Y/N. His eyes darted at the few sentences, he could hear Y/N’s echoing in his head reading to him.

I hope this email finds you well…Lev Haiba…with Bouncing Ball Corp…please contact me…best regards L/N Y/N.

By some wicked power that festered inside him, Kuroo saw this as a sign from the universe. Finally letting Y/N back into his life. He could once again feel true happiness, the love that had left his heart with a gaping void for the last few years.

Within a few weeks, each team was able to schedule the first table reading for the promotional video. The main plan to have it filmed over a course of two weeks, just in time before the Olympics in Tokyo. Time was of the essence and the only reason why Y/N was pushing themselves to succeed in this collar was the promise of a better life for themselves. The table reading was in a spacious meeting room curtesy of the Japanese Volleyball Association, the room stretched far beyond any hall Y/N had seen before. A titanic monitor casts its shadow over the table, a long aisle of varied refreshments framed the corners of the room. The chairs were individually cushioned, the carpet was soft with the richest woven fibres from the farthest corners of the world.

Y/N had arrived with Lev and multiple representatives from his team, Kuroo was stood under the frame of the entrance door, his jaw ajar. To Kuroo Tetsurou the mere sight of Y/N took his breath away, all he wished to do was run as fast as his legs could take him and embrace them with the strength of a thousand suns. Claiming them to be his all over again. He didn’t notice that Y/N’s face was getting closer and closer towards him, till they were stood shoulder to shoulder, face to face.

“Mr. Kuroo, a pleasure to be working with you.” Y/N held out their rigid hand.

“…Y/N,” he whispered, as if saying their name aloud was punishable by death.

“My name is L/N. I expect you to refer to me as such. We will see you inside.” Five seconds. Their reunion lasted five seconds, Kuroo couldn’t help but watch Y/N’s figure walk away, the closest he’s ever been to them, and all he can have in return is the sight of their back.

“My god, they’re as beautiful as the day I lost them.” Kuroo uttered.

The meeting went as smoothly as planned. Any issues were discussed thoroughly and everyone was confident in the project. But Kuroo paid no attention to any of it. His eyes could not keep off of Y/N. The way they’d speak so eloquently, unlike how childish they were in high school. He admired Y/N’s new found maturity, this chic version of his love, he was still entranced by their allure years after their split. However, his eyes would dart to the presence of Lev Haiba next to Y/N. A deeply rooted feeling of jealousy to the boy he once considered his underling. The Haiba siblings could see and be around Y/N every waking hour, yet the only time he had with them within his reach, lasted only five seconds. It wasn’t fair. He had assumed that Y/N had no more ties to Nekoma, so the thought of Y/N never cross his mind, till now. Seeing them beside Lev Haiba, sparked a new fire within his chest. Distant memories would flash in Kuroo's mind, younger versions of themselves, a first year Lev begging to meet and be around Y/N, his partner of three years. Jokes that he would push aside, confirming how Y/N was separate to volleyball and he had no intentions of merging these two sides of him. Yet there they were, in union with each other. Y/N and volleyball. He felt sick.

“I understand that the sport is the focus of this project, but we mustn’t ignore the everyday audience who aren’t fans of the sport.” Y/N spoke with a tinge of spite, they never mentioned the sport by name. In case the moment they uttered its name, they would be shackled down to its legacy for all of eternity.

“Lev is the public’s rising heartthrob, for both his looks and his humour, use it.”

“Aw! Thank you Y/N!” The half-russian man tried to coddle Y/N only to be pushed back into his seat by them.

Kuroo Tetsurou was torn. He wished to be the one to coddle Y/N. He hated how formal this all was, never had he thought of Y/N as this pragmatic android that spouted the same endless bullshit his co-workers would repeat. He wanted to see them laugh again, he wanted to bring them crying on their knees from tears of laughter. Maybe if he did that stupid impression of their father that always made them laugh, maybe then Y/N would go back to how they were in school.

The meeting came to a close and the rounds of production was set in stone. Kuroo’s work continued to pile, he couldn’t stay on set with the boys anymore than a day and any moment he did have on set, Y/N was never there. Filming ceased and everyone returned to their original teams, muttering away on their desktops and laptops to meet the deadline their bosses’ had set. Lev Haiba went back to modelling for big brands, Kenma increased the number of live-streams in the weeks forward after having a week off for filming. Whilst Hinata was preparing the announcement of him joining the Japanese National team.

Kuroo was stuck in his monotone cubicle again. The sight of his friends succeed in things beyond the mundane 9 to 5, that he was a slave to, was not an idea that came to mind at first. Originally, he loved the thrill of working behind sports promotion. But now, as a settled employee, he felt his life drain by the second. Only the thought of Y/N pushed him, once the project is uploaded and succeeds, he could see them at the celebratory party. If everything goes to plan. Then he could finally speak to them. Apologise. Tie everything up in a pretty bow so he could feel, complete.

The promotional video saw millions of views and trending hashtags across multiple social medias. They had, of course, prepared for this case. Releasing behind the scenes content, exclusive photographs and interacting with online fans.

It was as Y/N had planned, down to the T. It was like a weight was lifted off their shoulders, they knew within a few days the money would come rolling in through sponsors and new deals for their company. The Japanese Volleyball Association along with Bouncing Ball Corp allowed the teams to work in a private office space for the collaboration to increase cross communication. Y/N had spent night after night working endlessly on multiple PR plans that would cover all of Lev’s possible mishaps. The moment everything succeeded, they crashed. Their face plummeted to the keyboard and drifted into a deep slumber.

Y/N was at the entrance of Nekoma High, their uniform was slightly creased because they forgot to iron their shirt the night before. First day of high school and they already felt nauseous. They hated how their uniform sat on their frame, they hated how they had they ended up in a school where most of their old middle school classmates joined them. They felt stuck in an endless cycle of the same boring, mundane life they always lived.

“Ya gonna go in?”

The light spring breeze blew the tall boy’s black hair to fly upwards, revealing his other eye. He quickly flattened it to hide his forehead. He looked ridiculous, his jumper was slightly too big for him, his parents probably went a few sizes up awaiting for his eventual growth spurt.

“L/N c’mon, let me copy your English homework! Just this once!” Kuroo pleaded, training behind Y/N like a cub to its mother.

“Kuroo this is the fourth time! Remember last time, the teacher called your mom in for a meeting about you cheating!”

The boy had grown to tower over Y/N now, he was freakishly taller than the day they first met. His long limbs made him be twice as fast as well. “I’d much rather get told off for copying than get told off for bringing nothing at all.”

With a huff, Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle. Their dynamic was a breath of fresh air for Y/N, who previously was so used to an isolated world. But by Kuroo’s side, Y/N felt like they belonged. Somewhere within Kuroo’s circle, Y/N had a place fit just for them.

Kuroo would always tell people that he asked Y/N out first, that he prepared a romantic dinner at his place and popped the question as if it was their last night on earth. In truth, Y/N caught him amidst his plans and cut him to the chase. But Kuroo Tetsurou, the ever-so secret romantic, wanted everyone to believe that he swept them off their feet.

“If we’re going to be together we’ve got to do good morning and good night texts,” he huffed whilst Y/N’s arms cradled him into a tight embrace. They laughed in response for his childish acts, as a way to get back on ruining his plans on asking them out, Kuroo insisted on being as romantic as he could be with them. Holding hands, spooning, kisses in public. He didn’t care for the stares, he didn’t care for the whispers. He was happy. Y/N was happy.

“Y/N,” Kuroo’s face was so close yet each time Y/N reached out their hand, it faded into nothingness.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He kept calling their name yet Y/N couldn’t reach him.

“Tetsu?”

A sudden jolt caused Y/N to shoot back up, their shoulders were covered with a distinct black jacket. Beside them was of course, the man who emerged straight from their dreams. Kuroo Tetsurou.

“Sorry but, they’re shutting the building soon. You shouldn’t sleep here, it’ll hurt your back. I know that very well,” he chuckled beneath his breath.

Y/N hadn’t realised this before, but Kuroo’s eye bags had sunken deeper into his face. He had more noticeable crows feet and the wrinkles between his eyebrows had settled in already, quite concerning for a man still as young as him. He had changed his cologne again. He went back to the faint powdery scent, with hints of elderflower. The cologne Y/N bought him for their second anniversary. They didn’t know they still made that scent. His hands were still as calloused as they were years ago, bulging veins decorated his wrists and forearms. He maintained his built form, Y/N could see it through his button up shirt. He hadn’t changed much but was still an entirely different person.

“I was just tired Kuroo.” Y/N shimmied out of the man’s coat to return it, but Kuroo remained still.

“It’s weird to hear you call me that.” He chuckled, “I was always Tetsu to you.”

“Yeah well that was when we were kids.”

Kuroo smiled, a sad empty smile that held the years of regret that he harboured. Kids in love, he thought.

“I’m going home now, thanks for waking me.” Before Y/N could step out of the office door, Kuroo grabbed their wrist. He knew this was the last time he would ever see them, he sensed it. The moment they walk out that door it’ll be over. He had to fight, it was now or never.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for how I treated you all those years ago. I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention to you. I’m sorry I was never there for you.”

Disgusted. Pained. Relieved. Scared. Y/N’s stomach felt like a pit of snakes colliding into each other, trying to consume one another but failing miserably. Kuroo Tetsurou was a shell of a man now, the pain of heartbreak that lasted an eternity was killing his body slowly. He hadn’t mourned Y/N properly. He hadn’t mourned their relationship properly.

“Why?”

“Huh- What?” Kuroo asked, dropping his grip on Y/N.

“After all these years. Why are you apologising to me now.” You could hear a pin drop from the deafening silence between the two.

“Because I love you. I’ve always loved you Y/N, I won’t ever stop loving yo-“

“Shut up.” This was straight out of teenage Y/N’s dreams, the Kuroo Tetsurou who was begging them to stay. The Kuroo Tetsurou that they used to cling to in hopes of a final embrace. He was finally right in front of Y/N. With glassy eyes, proclaiming his undying love to them, his body craving Y/N’s own. He was right there, and he was pathetic.

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. If you did love me, you would’ve done this the night we ended it. But no, you barely said anything to me. In fact what you did, hurt me more than our actual split. You left me. You left me alone. Not just in our time together. I was never included in any part of your life beyond me. Despite being together for three years, I was completely, utterly alone." Warm tears that Y/N had suppressed for years began to arise from the dead.

“I thought you wanted me by your side, that you needed me because I had a place in your life. But you proved me wrong time and time again! I came second to everything in your life! Not once did I feel like a person to you. You took me for granted.”

It was like a slap in the face for Kuroo Tetsurou, he hadn’t realised it till now. In his eyes, Y/N was someone he once wanted to possess, to have and hold forever. He saw them just like his old pair of glasses he lost down the coach pillows. It took a few blinks to realise in front of him, was a person who had seen love and loss, found liberation and had it taken away. A person who had worked their life away to see the riches of their hard work. When they were in Nekoma, Y/N would always cheer him on from the sidelines, he thought it was fine. He thought they were okay with just watching them afar, he knew they didn’t really like volleyball but he didn’t care to talk about it anymore. He didn’t care. He didn’t care for having Y/N meet his teammates and hang around them, he wanted to keep them to himself. He didn’t care. His indifference was his demise. After over five years, he realised this.

“I have lived a thousand lifetimes since I left you. I think it’s time for you to do the same Tetsurou. Stop clinging to the past.”

Kuroo Tetsurou, the man who yearned the joys of his youth, could see clearly now. Y/N didn’t look back at the man. They picked up their bag and stepped out the door. Phone in hand, ready to dial up their friends, to celebrate a life well lived.

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #hq x reader #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro fanfic #kuroo tetsuro angst #anime #anime and manga #anime fanfic #anime x reader

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queen-of-reptiles · 9 months

Text

𝙿𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚂

description: Lauren runs through the same park everyday, at the same time everyday, but when she is an hour later one day, she finds her routine changing, so she can get one more look at the beauty hidden amongst pages of notes.

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lauren hemp x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously

warnings: so much fluff omg, so much fluff, fluffffff

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y/n just posted

liked by, y/f/n1, y/f/n2, and 388 others

y/n man fuck whoever told me to study law 🤓

view 103 comments

y/f/n1: girl ik, I've just eaten a tub of ice cream, cried and banged out an essay on civil justice in the 80's. 😝

y/n: lmao loved the add on of cried 😌

y/f/n1: felt like it was needed ☺️

y/f/n2: I don't get how you make everything look so aesthetic??? 😩😩

y/n: because I am deffo failing this course so might as well make it look good ! 💙

y/f/n3: Didn't you get an A in our last test? 🤨

y/f/n4: I am a drama kid, and even I know she's fucking dramatic 😭

y/f/n3: Such a drama queen this one!

y/n: I hate both of you stfu 🙄

y/bff/n: That's my best friend, she real bad bitch, she don't got no money, cause at law she's shit... 😏

y/n: how long did that take you? 🤨

y/bff/n: too long honestly...

y/n: 😭😭

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Lauren was running an hour later than usual, they had quite an exhausting game yesterday, so on her day off, she usually slept in until half eight ad was running in the park by nine.

Today it was ten am, and as Lauren jogged through, music pushing her through, she paused in shock. The most beautiful girl she had ever seen was lying on a picnic blanket, basking in the warm summer sun.

Rings littered her thin fingers, as well as several necklaces which hung from her neck and over the notebook she was writing in. Jeans and a sweet flowery top covered her, the mom jeans hanging on her body.

She had wired headphones in, which Lauren found odd, but the girl didn't seem to notice her as she stared, too focused on writing whatever she was writing.

Lauren briefly though about going over, but then she realised she was messy haired, red faced, and sweaty and thought better of it. So instead, she jogged on.

But suddenly Lauren found herself changing her routine, and every day off she had, which changed, she went to the park at 10am, and every time, other than Thursdays and Tuesdays, the girl was there, buried in pages.

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lauren_hemp just posted on her close friends story

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lauren_hemp just posted on her close friends story

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y/n just posted on her story

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After Lauren's complete fail, the next day off they had, Chloe, Alex and Jill came with her to the park, the four in relaxed outfits and hoping to sit and relax together, as well as help Lauren with this painful crush.

As they got there, the mysterious girl was already there, writing out pages and pages once again, and Jill let out a light whistle, nodding at Lauren in agreement.

The girl was hot. Chloe and Alex both sat down near her, dragging the other two with them, y/n looked up and she waved nicely at Lauren, who waved back with a smile.

Chloe sighed in relief that Lauren had at least reacted normal to that, and as y/n went back to studying the four friends started a conversation as they relaxed in the sun.

Eventually the group got up to play some football, y/n having not moved since the turned up, Chloe had hit the ball slightly hard and Lauren blanched as she ran.

The quick blonde, only manged just to get to y/n, pulling the girl who had stood up to stretch out of the way of the incoming ball the football instead hitting one of her notebooks and sending loose pages everywhere.

"Oh my god." y/n gasps.

"Sorry!" Chloe calls. "I am so sorry!" She adds again, but y/n waves a hand kindly.

"Luckily I have my guardian angel!" y/n calls, smiling at Lauren gratefully, who blushes at the sweet nickname. "Thank you." y/n adds as she bends down to pick at her papers.

Lauren kicks the ball across to Chloe who restarts their game of up, with the other two, but Lauren stays by y/n leaning down to help pick up her scattered papers.

"Oh you don't have to." y/n starts but Lauren smiles and shakes her head.

"I want to." Lauren promises as she hands the girl her papers. "Do you maybe want to get coffee sometime?" Lauren suddenly asks, as if she had been forced to say it.

Truth is, if she hadn't of said it then, she never would have. y/n looked up at her and furrowed her brows slightly, as if trying to figure something out.

"Like a date?" She asks and Lauren nods.

"Unless you don't want to." Lauren adds.

"No I want to, I was just trying to figure out why Lauren Hemp is asking me out." y/n admits and Lauren winces.

"You know who I am?" She asks and y/n shrugs.

"My best friend is a city fan, though I am more partial to Arsenal I must admit." y/n teases and Lauren pretends as she's been shot dragging and heart-breakingly beautiful laugh from the student.

"How could you?" Lauren asks jokingly and y/n laughs again.

"Quite easily, I suppose I will have to make it up to you." y/n hums. "How about a date tomorrow, after coffee today?" She asks and Lauren grins.

"Uh, yeah, yeah that would be great." Lauren smiles, a bright gleam in her eyes.

"Cool, well can I get your number then?" y/n asks and Lauren jerks forward, quickly tapping her number in and sending a message to herself.

"Do you want to go get coffee now?" Lauren asks, y/n sighing in relief and nodding.

"Please, I look at anything else about civil justice proceedings, my brain is going to self-destruct." y/n says and Lauren chuckles and looks up to tell her friends.

However, she finds no one, the three having dispersed with shared grins as Lauren and y/n started talking, finding no reason to interrupt they left.

y/n packed away her notes, throwing her highlighters into her pencil case and standing up, she smoothed out her summer dress, the article stopping just below her knees.

"You're so pretty." Lauren said without thinking, and even though she had just said it aloud, it sounded so calm and meant.

"Charmer." y/n blushed, smiling softly as she held out her hand. "Come on." She smiles and Lauren takes her hand.

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lauren_hemp just posted on her story

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y/n just posted on their story

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lauren_hemp just posted on her story

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y/n just posted on their story

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twitter/ X

username1: has anyone seen Lauren's story???? 🤨🤨

username2: YES - is she out on a date?

username3: it looks like it !!!! 😏😏

username4: Lauren and a girl have been seen out in Manchester!!!

username5: She is in my class at school!!! 😱😱

username6: her @ is @y/n - She is so pretty! 😊

username7: nahhh she's not 🙄🙄

username8: yeah what if she is just using Lauren??? 😡

username9: stfu it aint our bsuiness! 🖕

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lauren_hemp just posted

liked by, chloekelly, leahwilliamsonn, and 487, 288 others

tagged y/n

lauren_hemp So proud of you baby <3 you deserve this after all the sleepless night and pages of notes! Also happy one year love - best WAG I could have asked for!

view 13, 711 comments

username1: has it been a year already??? WOah !!

username2: feels like just yesterday we were hunting her down ...

username3: who would have guessed how much we would love her too! ☺️☺️

leahwilliamsonn: Well done y/n!!

y/n: Thankooooo xxx

y/bff/n: SOOoooooooOO PROUD! 💙

y/n: love youuuuuu 💙

y/f/n1: It seems like only yesterday you were crying with dominoes saying you were going to drop out. 🥹

y/n: what a time, what a time. 😊

username4: This is all just so cute! 🥹

chloekelly: This happened because of me just so everyone knows 👏👏

lauren_hemp: yes lets all thank Chloe for nearly knocking out my girlfriend 🙄

y/n: thanks Chloe! Thought she would never come and talk to me. <3

lauren_hemp: I would have! 😶

chloekelly: nahhhhhh ☺️

username5: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA 😂

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END

loved this one as it is just cuteness honestly !!

Queenie xx

#social media woso #woso #woso x reader #woso x y/n #woso community #woso soccer #lauren hemp #lauren hemp x reader #man city women #chloe kelly #khiara keating #jill roord #lauren hemp x y/n #lauren hemp imagine

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sunboki · 2 years

Text

PLAYING WITH SKZ’S HAIR

including: ot8!<3

notes: Minho reading It Ends with Us :’((

BANGCHAN was anything but calm. him and the kids had been practicing endlessly in preparation for Stray Kids’ newest stage coming up, but Chris couldn’t help but feel nervous. somehow, the uneasiness that he simply wasn’t good enough was eating him alive. “welcome home baby.” you greeted as he dropped his bag on the table, surprised to see your lover back so early—having expected him to be cooped up in the studio instead. you didn’t need a reply, the exhausted look in his eyes told you enough. opening your arms for a hug, he practically melted into your warmth, even picking you up to carry you to the couch. “you’ve worked so hard lately.. come here.” the sweet lulling of your voice entranced him as his head rested comfortably on your chest, now snuggled on the sofa. the leader was out once your fingers found their way into massaging his scalp, already heavy eyes finally closing with a satisfied sigh. “..love you so much….” he mumbled ever so quietly, but you heard it.

MINHO happily took time spending his lazy Saturday reading a book, the glasses sitting on his nose so refined was driving you crazy; who was currently gawking at just how attractive your boyfriend looked. he had to have seen you from a distance, but hasn’t spoke up just yet. taking the opportunity, you snuck behind him, head peering over his shoulder. “what book?” yet an unfazed Minho hummed, “It Ends with Us.” to which you sport a pout—no less scanning the words on the page. “such a romantic.” the grumble apparently goes unnoticed for a moment, carding your hands through the soft brown locks you adore oh so much. well in summary, your words didn’t go unnoticed. your boyfriend leaning his head back suddenly with curious eyes. “what was that?” you gulped, the close proximity catching you off guard. however it didn’t take you long to break into a grin, switching to hold his face. “i said, you’re such a romantic.” his dark orbs seemed to light up at this, plush lips puckering to ask for kiss. you lean forward, but jerk back at the last second, running away. “yah! Y/N!~” the pitiful whine causes laughter to echo in the household, that big baby.

CHANGBIN lay sprawled on the studio’s couch, deep asleep whilst you were doing the same—cozied between his legs while the rapper snored quietly. what’s exactly the story to this predicament? easy. 3racha was editing a track, the three busy-bee’s accompanied by you who wanted to watch the process even after being warned it was tiring by your beloved boyfriend, Changbin. he wasn’t wrong, and as time passed you found yourself obsessing over your boyfriends hair. so moldable and cute. a perfect fit for him. moving into his lap you busied yourself tying pig tails with soft pink hair ties, squealing with glee. this was another kind of happiness only achievable when Changbin was involved. by the fourth hour everyone was void of emotion, absolutely smoked. you’d already fallen asleep against Changbin, head tucked in his chest and he couldn’t help but follow along soon after. marking the end of the story, and sleepy 3racha + Y/n dozing in the studio. rest assured Leeknow had quite a few pictures to use against you later.

HYUNJIN’s lives had you by the throat. lives as in vlives, the app where you stumbled on an old live of Hyunjin tying his black locks into two pigtails. your hand flying to cover the massive smile adorning your face, stretching at your cheeks. Hyunjin, who happened to be sitting beside you taking a break from his practicing leaned his head down to gaze at your face due to the sudden gasp—adorable brows furrowed with confusion. that is, until he realized you were smiling. being the weasel he was, he couldn’t help but be curious. “what is it?” peering over your shoulder, his face gradually became as red as the thunderous m/v outfits. just as he anticipated, puppy-dog eyes stared up at him, “can i…?” you wiggled in your seat excitedly, unable to contain your grin. with a heavy sigh, your boyfriend hunched in his seat, allowing you to do whatever you’d like with his hair. nonetheless, the pout on his lips when Han walked in and started laughing maniacally was priceless.

HAN stumbled through the doorway with 3racha following behind, eager for a chance to relax at your place after a long day of producing. “You know the drill boys, eat what you want but you have to clean up after yourselves.” Changbin huddled himself in your arms, whispering a cute, “hi noona” before Han hogged you to himself. Chan only graced you with a smile and coddled the dwaekki to your living room, giving you and Jisung time. “Hi Jisungie, how was your day?” Whatever he answered was muffled as he shoved his face into your chest with a soft sigh—stirring giggles. Now seated atop the counter with Jisung smiling up at you, you couldn’t help but run your fingers through his messy locks, round eyes gazing up at you with adoration. “My day was great since I get to admire how pretty you are when I get home.” The precious moment suddenly interrupted by “ewww!!!” sounding from the other two occupying your flat. “Yah!”

FELIX was always a hard worker, you knew that of course—but watching him practice helped prove that point ten-fold. When he’d walk towards you with sweat-dappled skin and a squishy grin, you voluntary readied the hair-band on your wrist. As if on instinct the bbokari would kneel down so you could tie his growing hair into a cute ponytail from your place on the couch. God, you were definitely his favorite part of practice. “Do you need anything else?” You asked, eyes dancing to read his facial expression. “A kiss.” The sly boy puckered his lips teasingly, leaning down to capture your lips momentarily. No less the cock of a brow Chan sent you made your face red along with the wolf whistles by none other than Han and Hyunjin. Thankfully Jeongin patted your head reassuring, but that shit-eating smile made you think otherwise.

SEUNGMIN continuously spent his time soaking in your highly focused face, seemingly amazed by him getting his hair dyed for Stray Kids’ new comeback. Your open mouth and unblinking eyes reminded him of a toddler entranced by cartoons on TV. “Interested?” His silvery voice dragged you from your dreamscape, blinking repeatedly. “‘Looks soft.. I wanna play with it.” Your response immediately dissipated the snarky comment he was preparing, utterly breaking his heart. He knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it if the members saw his heart-eyes while staring at you. Clearing his throat quickly, he corrected, “It’s probably rough from dying it.” Seungmin watched you rise from your chair, hands curling into his dark roots—leaving a kiss there. “No it’s soft. Seungmin soft. Plus, it smells like you.” His brows knitted, ignoring the flush climbing up his neck to his ears. “What do I smell like?” Oh no. Not that smile. “Seungmin.”

JEONGIN is a pouty baby. Even his hyung’s agree. Well, considering today’s festivities. Walking into JYP’s building should not have caused such chaos, at least on a regular day. However today was not a regular day. His pink hair, resembling that of an apple stem sat perched comfortably atop his head. Much to your delight. “BAHAHA—Chan hyung come here!” Leeknow cackled, unable to continue working on their choreo thanks to the blessed sight. Naturally, Chan came, along with the others(much to Jeongin’s dismay). Therefore, Jeongin’s new name was now apple head(사과머리) as Felix filled you in through FaceTime. Further more, his hyung’s might’ve just died when Jeongin told them his real reason for showing up with his hairstyle. Apparently you’d tied it like that this morning before he left, looking too proud of your work just for him to take it down. Basically wife him up.

all rights for this work are owned by @sunboki

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idontplaytrack · 3 months

Note

hiiii <3

Can you do one where Janis has been having a lot or trouble in school, and her friends have always kind of jokingly called her dumb or stupid because she makes bad or irrational decisions and she gets overwhelmed and at a big group sleepover freaks out and regina has to calm her down in front of everyone.

Shut up, shut up

Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George

Warnings: coarse language, teasing/bullying, Janis gets angry, some crying, self-loathing, implied smut at the end

Janis has been trying to play nice. But her feelings have been hurt by those closest to her— over and over again. One night, she loses it in front of everyone, needing Regina to step in and defuse the situation.

“G, hey.” Janis walks up to Regina, backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Hey, you.” Regina’s flashes her a smile when she came up before her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Janis barely reacted, causing her to ask if she was okay.

“My new homeroom teacher gave me detention for doing embroidery work in the classroom. It’s not like I wasn’t listening, y’know?”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, baby.” Regina puts an arm around her and they headed to their next class together.

“At least it’s only an hour. I’ll be right there at your place as soon as I get outta detention.”

“Mm, okay.” Regina hums, snaking an arm around her waist. “Want me to cook?”

Janis agrees with an eager nod, “That’d be nice.”

Entering the classroom with some time to spare, the couple sat down at their usual desks, Janis takes out her class materials before Regina followed suit. When their teach walked in, the students immediately quiet down. But still, the teacher standing in the front of the class seemed visibly unhappy. “Yes, ‘Imi’ike. I’m looking at you.”

Janis was startled, then confused. “Don’t look so confused, you’re not a freshman. You should know your clothing choice is against school code.”

“I…have been wearing the same kind of outfits all year. Why is it that it’s become a problem today?”

“It’s too short.” The teacher nearly seethed, “Say another word and I’m giving you an hour detention.”

Regina bites back a scoff, but the teacher saw it anyway. “What’s seems to be the problem, George?”

“Nothing, Mr. Moss.”

“‘Imi’ike, one hour. And cover up.”

Not wanting to escalate the situation and cause more trouble for herself, she stayed silent and dug through her backpack for her jacket, put it on and zipped it up.

Janis was starting to feel irritated again. Everything seemed to be going wrong already. And the day’s barely started. She was tense from the anger and frustration that was bubbling up within her— Regina could tell. That meant Janis would definitely need to let go of that emotion after school, some way somehow. Usually, Regina would help her out, cuddling, or much more. Other times, what Janis needed would be to scream, cry or both. Very rarely, Janis would immediately just punch something. Regina hated that last method the most because Janis would end up hurting herself, and that, hurt Regina.

When lunchtime rolled around, Janis got herself three hours of detention and a substitute teacher to hate her. Really, all Janis did was clarify the number of pages in the workbook they had to complete and the teacher immediately responded by yelling.

“Fuck, fuck. I hate today.” Janis mutters, sitting down at the usual bench with her friends. Regina was right next to her, “What happened?”

“What didn’t happen, G?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be so dramatic, Janis. I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Karen remarked. Janis sucks in a deep breath, keeping her gaze focused on her Converse. She shrugs off Regina’s hand on her back and was fiddling with her thumbs, painfully hard. “Stop.” Gretchen interjects before Karen could continue, “Don’t say anything else. That’s not nice, Karen.”

“But she always—” Aaron added on, “You don’t have the best temper, Janis.”

Now, Regina wanted to slap him. Janis quickly grabbed her bag and ran to the bathroom, feeling like a knife’s been repeatedly slicing through her heart hearing each passing word.

“Janis.” Regina tried to hold her back by the wrist but she easily got free and went on her way.

“Very good, guys. Y’all are such children.” Damian scoffs, Regina leaves the table to go check on Janis.

“Just leave me alone, Regina.” Janis spoke through gritted teeth, hands clutching the sink countertop.

“No, I will not.”

“You need to eat.” Janis says softly.

“Oh, and you don’t?” Regina replied.

“Fuck, why?” Janis slams her fist to the counter, Regina internally cringes, “Jay, let’s go back to lunch. Ignore them, okay?”

“Really? They always do this, make little comments about me, about how I have shitty temper, always being like ‘oh, it’s just Janis being Janis.‘. They don’t see how hard I’ve been trying to change for the better, and how sometimes, the things I get into trouble for aren’t my fault.”

————

When the last bell rang, Janis snaps out of her trance. It felt like she blacked out after lunch and just got through the rest of her day— without any other punishments, fortunately. Regina waits for her right outside the classroom and they head to detention together. “Mom isn’t home for the week. You wanna come over after? I’ll wait for you to get out,”

“Sure.” Janis says, barely audible.

Janis didn’t say much of anything after that. Regina quickly bid her goodbye and went off to her car and waited. Well, she did drive off to the supermarket to get some ingredients to cook, and snacks. But the three hours went by fast enough. Janis got out of detention, obviously in a bad mood. She didn’t say anything and just rested her head on the window as she looked out of it. Regina doesn’t force her to talk, knowing what to do. Once they got to Regina’s room, Janis just yanked the jacket off and crashed into the bed to sleep. Regina didn’t want to stop her, because she clearly needed that. It was better than her punching a table and bruising her hand. She moves herself to lay right next to Janis, carefully wrapping an arm around her and planting a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. None of what happened today was your fault.”

“Clearly it has to be, even our friends are saying it like I don’t know it.”

“Janis.” Regina sighs softly, “Listen to me. It’s not on you, that’s on them. They’re just unfair, angry…sometimes, immature. Some teachers just take their own frustrations out on students and it sucks. But, don’t apologise for things that aren’t your fault, Janis. Please.”

“I can’t help it.” Janis exhales shakily. “They still think I’m like— unbreakable. I’m not, okay? I’m not. I’m fucking weak.”

“You are not weak, Janis. No.” Regina held her tighter, kissing her again, “You are not weak, Janis. You are the strongest person I’ve ever known, and that’s coming from someone who got hit by a bus.”

Janis’ body relaxed gradually as she listens to Regina speak, and her eyes also fluttered shut. She doesn’t say anything though, not because she didn’t know what to say. But because she was afraid of crying even harder.

“Just sleep, it’s okay. I’m here. Everything’s going to be alright, I got you.”

They both woke up again around dinner time and headed straight for the kitchen to prepare dinner. “Pasta?”

“Okay.” Janis agrees, leaning against the counter. “The gang’s coming over, right? That’s tonight— the sleepover?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to cancel?”

“No, it’s fine.” Janis shrugs, “As long as they shut up about me.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Regina grins, smooching Janis on the cheek then all over her face, making her giggle.

The both of them cooked together, enjoying each other’s company and chatting about anything and everything under the sun. “Holy shit, this smells amazing.”

“Oh, thank you~” Regina bites back a grin, grabbing a plate to start portioning the food for themselves and the gang that were arriving any minute. “Never made this before.”

“Eh, well, you’re a good cook, G.” Janis smiled cheekily, grabbing a strand of noodle from the pot to try it. Regina shrieks, “Janis, oh my God!”

“My hands are clean!” Janis laughs, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. Just as Regina was about to say something back, the doorbell rang. “I’ll go get the door.” Janis says, walking away to the foyer. “Okay, thanks, baby.”

They say hi to her and Janis. Cady, Gretchen and Damian gave her a hug. First thing they did? They gathered around the dining table to have dinner as a group. Janis quietly went over to the fridge to pour herself a drink but her hand slipped and she dropped her mug when she felt a sudden squeezing pain on one side of her head.

“Oh, shit.” Someone gasped. Aaron, it was Aaron.

“Are you okay?” Janis heard Regina and Gretchen.

“Why so distracted, you dummy?” Aaron asks, it was clearly a joke. He always called her these nicknames and she didn’t mind, having a self-deprecating sense of humour. But lately, she just wasn’t having it. She’s had enough of these unkind nicknames and teasing. Regina rushed to her side to see if she cut her hand, “Don’t touch it. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m fine, go back to dinner.”

“Janis, are you just trying to use the fact that you got detention to smash things?” Damian asked with a laugh. The rest of the gang chuckles.

“Shut up.” Janis mutters, clearly in some distress. She wasn’t even looking Regina in the eye now. “Shut up.” Janis repeated, “All of you shut the fuck up. I don’t need anyone else calling me dumb, stupid, insinuating that I’m violent and cannot control my emotions. Shut up!”

Janis swallowed her tears painfully, sliding down into a squat while her back rested against the counter. “I’m sorry.” Janis said quietly to Regina. “It’s okay, it’s just a mug. As long as you’re not injured, I couldn’t care less about a measly piece of ceramic.”

“I’m such a fuck up, I ruin everything.”

“Ja— baby, you’re not a fuck up. Okay? These people need to learn to get the hint and stop. I’m sure they wouldn’t like it too if they were in your shoes. I’m proud of you for speaking up, okay? Never ever say that about yourself again, that’s the last thing you’ll ever be. You are not a fuck up, Janis.”

“I don’t get it— you guys could tell she wasn’t happy about those damn nicknames and you all still continued? And you just had to laugh at Damian’s stupid ‘joke’? How would you feel if that’s all you heard about yourself from your friends?”

“I’m sorry, Janis. I’ll stop using those names, it was wrong, and I thought it was okay because you never stopped me and in fact laughed along. That doesn’t make it right, I should’ve paid better attention.”

“I’ll never call you dramatic again.” Karen swore, “I promise.”

Janis appreciated and acknowledged their apologies but ultimately decided she needed to spend more time alone to calm down. So, she excused herself and finished up her dinner by the pool. “Hey.” Regina came out to check on her a little later after she put on a movie on the TV for the gang. “I got you your drink.”

Janis turned around, taking the cup from Regina. “Thanks.”

Regina sat down on the low pool chair, groaning slightly as she did so due to the lingering discomfort in her back. “Do you feel better?”

“I guess.” Janis sniffed, picking at the food on her plate. “I don’t know, I think I’m just feeling weird because my mom and dad have been fighting a lot again lately and I just feel so…not like myself. And I — I fucking hate it. I hate that every little thing’s been pissing me off.”

“Babe, please…you’re a human being. Of course you’d feel emotions. Scared, worried, annoyed, sad. Whatever it is, you’d better feel them instead of bottling it all up.”

Janis cracked a smile, eating another forkful of the pasta.

“There’s that smile.” Regina coos, “Don’t you dare lose that smile of yours.”

Janis blushes, poorly hiding it. “You’re so cute.” Regina chuckles to herself, watching Janis getting flustered. “Though I must say…that too you wore at school today? So damn hot.”

“Oh, yeah?” Janis guffaws, setting her finished plate down, “Which am I then? Cute? Or hot?”

“Nice try, you’re both.” Regina turned to face her properly, patting her knee, “Let’s uh…take this up to my room?”

“Tempted.” Janis laughs quietly, “But what do you think we should do about the gang then?”

“Who cares?! They have plenty of stuff to do. Most of the gang’s kissing each other anyway.”

“Well, thank you so very much for putting that image into my head.” Janis snorted, shuddering in disgust.

Regina sighs, pushing herself up off the pool chair then extending her arm for Janis to grab her hand, “Let’s go, pretty girl.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

💭A/N:

Enjoy this half-assed attempt. Took me all day but I’m still not entirely satisfied with how it turned out. Hope it’s still okay though🤡

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cameronspecial · 10 months

Text

Her Guardian And His Redemption

Pairing: Bodyguard!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Sexual Thoughts, Being Kidnapped, Someone Getting Killed.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 6.7K

Summary: He was supposed to be there to protect her, but he wasn't. And then he made the biggest mistake of his life. How could he fix it?

A/N: This is Part 2 of Her Protector And His Hubris.

Masterlist

Francesca Chambers is not Y/N. It was painfully obvious to Drew as soon as he opened the file about her. Each page details a new fact that tells him he is going to hate working on this assignment. Francesca is the daughter of Senator Chambers and many of these sheets depict her run-ins with the media. One article on a meltdown about not getting the right colour car on her sixteenth birthday. One Reddit thread about a heated argument with someone just trying to do their job. One video of her attacking her friend because they were wearing the same outfit. He didn’t need to do any more research on her to know she was going to be a handful. She was nothing like Y/N and everything like his previous clients. Every single week there was a new party. A new incident. A new thing he had to cover up so he didn’t get in trouble with the senator. To make matters worse, Francesca seems to think that he should be completely infatuated with him because she is God’s gift to the world.

“Drewwww, I need your help,” she drawls out from the bathroom. He sighs and puts his book down. The paperback copy of East of Eden is worn out. The spine is cracking because of how many times he has read it and the cover is missing the corner, lost a long time ago. It is not as nice as the copy Y/N gave him, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it. He knew that every time he looked at it, it would remind him of the danger he put his love in. The cushion of the chair creaks under his weight as he rises from the chair. He makes his way upstairs and stands outside of the door. He wraps his knuckles against the dark wood, “What’s wrong?” “I need you to come inside,” she pleads.

“I don’t think it would be appropriate if I do so.”

“Please, Drew. It’s important. It is a matter of my safety.”

Knowing it could spell out a disaster if he doesn’t check on her safety after that, he enters her bedroom and then the bathroom. He finds her in the bathtub, covered in bubbles. “I need you to get me a towel,” she orders with a smile. He looks at her with tight lips, “That doesn’t concern your safety.” “Yes, it does! I could slip while going to get it,” she argues, batting her eyelashes at him. He doesn’t argue; it would go nowhere. He gets the towel for her, throwing it on the toilet before storming off to his room. This isn’t the first time she’ll pull this type of shit and it won’t be the last.

———

Drew would never admit that his feet are aching. He should be used to this much standing by now. Yet, every time he goes shopping with Francesca, time seems to slow down, causing the blood to pool his feet. He isn’t one to be bashful and he isn’t with Y/N, but without Y/N around, he doesn’t know where to look. Especially because of the store they are in right now. The lacey materials all around the store fill his imagination with thoughts of her. Every garment he sees, he pictures her and all the naughty things he wants to do to her. “I want to try these on,” he overhears Francesca's demand to the sales associate. The other woman puts on a fake grin, “Of course, Miss. All of our changing rooms are currently in use at the moment, but I could make sure you get the next available one. Do you want to keep browsing and I’ll come to get you when it is ready?” Francescar’s eyes narrow and her lips pucker. Drew prepares himself for the hail storm that is about to occur, pretending to survey the store for threats. Although, he probably entered the store with the biggest one. “Excuse me! Do you know who I am? My father is a senator and one for call to him can have you fired,” she screeches, pointing an accusing finger at the employee.

The blood drains from the associate's face, “I’ll see what I can do.” “Good,” his client’s words chase after the scurrying worker. “Can you believe some people?” she mumbles under her breath. Drew gives her a disapproving look, “You were rude to her.” “No, I wasn’t. I was just reminding her of her place,” she retorts. He rolls his eyes, nothing can get through to her. They are soon rushed to the changing rooms and Drew stands at the entrance. Francesca goes into the changing room, coming back out soon after in the first lingerie set. It’s a pastel green set that goes with her olive eyes. Drew can see her vying for her attention out of the corner of his eyes, yet his focus is on something outside of the changing room. It is a pastel pink slip dress. Flower lace covers the breasts and also forms two slits at the bottom of her dress on the sides.

An image pops into his mind. The woman he loves standing in a doorway adorned by pink and flowers. He waits patiently for her to saunter over to him with her arms swinging at her side. She would straddle his hips, sitting back on his thighs. Her finger would raise and curl to beckon him forward. His hands find her thighs, pressing her closer to his crotch. He brings his lips closer to her and captures the beautiful petals. “I love you,” he promises to her. “Drew, you aren’t looking at me.” Francesca snaps him out of his fantasy. Irritation seeps out of him, “That’s because my job is to identify threats in our environment and I can’t do that if I’m looking at you.” He doesn’t glance over at her; instead, he continues to search the store for possible threats. She huffs at the lack of attention, “You are such a buzzkill.” She goes back into the changing room, leaving him to wish he could really say those things to his precious.

———

James Notting isn’t Drew. It was obvious to Y/N that he was a good bodyguard. Except he would never make her feel the way that Drew can make her feel. She knows she is safe with James; it doesn’t feel the same way as when she is with Drew. Drew’s protection made her feel warm. With Drew, it didn’t feel like an obligation. It feels like his life mission to keep her safe. He wasn’t doing it for the money. He was doing it because he truly cared for her on a personal level. She doesn’t blame James for not being Drew; she has a hole inside of her heart James can’t fill. She finishes packing up her work to bring home and heads to the elevator with James following behind her. He opens the car door for her once they get to her car. As she ducks to get into the car, she has to move her right shoulder, which causes an ache to shoot through it. Her hand reaches for her healing wound and this only causes more pain. “Are you okay?” James worries. She nods and continues to sit in her seat.

The car ride to her apartment is quiet. The only sound is the music playing from her playlist. When they get home, Alice is already making dinner in the kitchen. The aroma of the frying chicken instantly hit her nose. She greets Alice with a smile and makes her way into her office to put her work away. She is about to head back downstairs to talk to Alice when a cardboard box catches her eye. She should’ve brought that to the security firm a long time ago. Y/N holds in a breath as her feet drag across the hardwood floor towards it. Her hands shake while reaching for the lid to take it off.

Versace and cigarettes. It surrounds her in its embrace. She immediately regrets opening it and wants to put the lid back on; nevertheless, the items inside draw her in like a siren song. She picks up the item on top. The custom copy of East of Eden she had made for him. Realizing he left it behind hurt her more than she could ever know. She was so proud of herself for thinking of the gift. Every time she found him reading it, a small spark would shock through her heart. To her, the book was a symbol of her love for him and he left it behind as he left her. The next thing she finds is his WCU shirt. He probably forgot it was in her drawers because it became her sleep shirt after the first night they made love. She used to make him wear it for a day whenever it would stop smelling like him, making him laugh with the way she would beg him to put it on right at that second. A coil wraps around her heart and tightens until it squeezes tears out of her. She brings it to her nose like she did on that fateful night, breathing in all the memories she had with him. The late mornings in bed she would spend with that shirt on. He would play with the hem of it while he guided her cooking from over her shoulder. The way he would go crazy to bring her pleasure with it on.

A polaroid is the final thing she can bring herself to pick out. The sunlight from the apartment window gave her an ethereal look. She was focused on the art book in front of her, sketching an outfit for her upcoming fashion show. He brought the Polaroid camera to his eyes and called out her nickname. It caused a smile to bloom across her, which was the moment he captured forever. The photo was printed out and he wrote My Precious in the blank area with a heart at the end. She watched as he put the photo in his wallet. “So I can have you wherever I go,” he said to her, kissing the photo and then her. Of course, like it always did, the kiss turned into passionate sex. Y/N guesses he doesn’t want her wherever he is now.

———

After dinner, Y/N goes into her study to finish up her work. Her eyes double-check the guest list for her fast-approaching event. “James, I have the list for you to look over,” she informs the man somewhere in the apartment. He stoically enters the office and takes the list from her. He closes the door behind him, walking to his room. The sofa chair creaks as he sits to look over the names. He is looking over the possible guests to get a sense of what to expect and to flag any potential threats that she needs to change out. Most of the people are her usual ones until he meets one that causes him to freeze. Francesca Chambers. Shit. She probably invited the senator’s daughter because the girl is known to throw tantrums when not invited to exclusive events. Y/N never would have done it if she knew Drew was Ms. Chambers’ bodyguard. James could tell her that fact, but he won’t. Drew made a mistake and James wants to help him fix it.

———

When the invitation came in the mail, Drew started to buzz with anticipation of seeing her again. He has seen her on social media, but it could never be the same as seeing her in person. It could never beat being able to reach out and feel her warm, smooth skin. Tonight’s event is raising money for the foster system. It would go towards group housing for kids who can’t stay in a foster home, food, and items. Another very important fact that Y/N wants to emphasize is getting children in the foster care system actual bags for their things. He remembers the day she had decided this would be her next fashion event all those months ago. She had watched an Instagram reel of a foster mother and one of the details that stood out was the fact that the children the mother was newly fostering had their personal belongings in a garbage bag. Her heart broke for the children who were already going through a hard time. She wanted to give them the dignity of their stuff being regarded as special. He had to comfort her as she cried for the kids in the foster system. He loves that she always brings her plans into reality.

During the fashion show, he stands at the back of the room, searching for anyone he needs to neutralize. Every outfit is absolutely stunning and pride fills him up. He wishes he could’ve been there to watch her create such beauties. The end of the show is nearing when Francesca has to go to the bathroom. Like a good bodyguard, he follows her and waits outside of the room. He can still hear the noises coming from down the hall. His foot impatiently taps against the floor. Francesca is taking forever. The music starts to fade out and is replaced by a familiar voice. “Hello, thank you for coming to support the event. There are around three hundred ninety-one thousand children in the foster care system. Now, that may not seem like a lot to you. But that doesn’t mean that they don’t deserve better…”

Her voice starts to fade from his ears as he begs the universe to make his client leave the bathroom so that they can make it back for the end of Y/N’s speech. The universe doesn’t answer. Instead, Francesca takes ten more minutes in the bathroom and he discreetly rushes her back to where everyone is. It was too late. No one stands on the stage anymore and everyone is already moving on to where the cocktail party is being held. Francesca picks up her purse from her chair and they head over to the next room. His eyes scan the room, looking for the one person who could make him feel at home even though he is so far from where he grew up. He had been trained for this moment, so he could easily find her. He is too far away to hear the laughter that falls from her lips. Her head is thrown back in delight and he desires to be by her side, whispering how magnificent she has done. How noble this event is. How proud her mother would be of her. He knows those are the words she is dying to hear. Fear floods through him. There are so many people in this room, right now. And while he does trust James to protect his precious, big events like these can be hard to navigate with no help.

Francesca hates charity. Why should she care about people below her? The only reason she is at this event is because she has to see the girl, who has such a strong hold on Drew. No matter how stupid Drew thinks she is, she knows he is in love with Y/N Y/L/N. She has seen the articles around the pair and Francesca wants that love for herself. Even now, she can see the way he looks out for Y/N and jealousy toils in her stomach. She needs his attention on her. She struts over to him and places her hand on his chest. “I really like this suit on you, Drew. You fill it out amazingly,” she flirts, running her hand up and down his pectoral muscle. To her surprise, he doesn’t shove her hands off of her. She takes this as an invitation to continue even if his awareness isn’t on her. Satisfaction comes to her when she catches Y/N’s envious gaze.

How dare he? Y/N and Drew had to keep their relationship a secret, yet it was okay for him to be public about his relationship with a senator’s child. Francesca is a more public figure than Y/N. It made no sense. They both had agreed to keep them on the down low, so she doesn’t understand why this bothers her. Francesca leans in to whisper something in Drew’s ears and he doesn’t react. Y/N is familiar with Drew’s composed demeanour. What kills her even more? Drew is letting Francesca touch him at her event. He broke her heart and now, he was breaking it all over again by flaunting his relationship with another girl. He can’t be clueless about who is hosting the show. Y/N never thought that Drew would go for someone so spoiled and rude. Maybe she doesn’t know him at all. She turns back to Jackie and distracts herself with the other woman’s story about a fashion malfunction.

Drew hates the feel of Francesca’s hands on him; however, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Y/N is safe. That her surroundings aren’t putting her in danger. Like he should’ve done the last time he worked for her. His vision falls on her again. This time, he examines her in full glory. Her red dress helps her stand out against the crowd. It only has one strap that rests on the side of her left shoulder. This leaves the still-healing bullet wound out for anyone to see. The skin where the scar is is taught, puckering in redness. He hopes she is taking care of it and that it is healing fully. If his self-confidence didn’t get in his way, then he would’ve been there to help her do all that stuff. He can make amend with that part of himself by keeping her safe tonight. He spends the rest of the night ignoring his job and fulfilling his life mission.

———

She gets home around one in the morning. Her feet aching from the night spent in heels and her hair giving her a headache from how tight it is. She stumbles to her bedroom, ridding herself of her clothes. She turns on the shower and gets to work on taking her hair down. Once steam starts to fill the room, she checks the temperature of the water to find it is perfect. The warmth of the water causes her to let her emotions out. She can’t distinguish between her tears and the water from the shower head. It makes no difference to her. Memories from the night pass through her brain. The way Francesca would cling to Drew’s suit. The way he wouldn’t even look in her direction. The way that watching him with another girl made her feel like she lost him all over again. To make it worse, every single moment she had with him made an appearance. It feels like every single emotion she has been trying to avoid comes crashing down on her at once.

Her shower ends about half an hour later and she may be tired, except she needs to complete her daily ritual. She gets her ice cream out of the freezer and plops down on the couch. The Office’s theme song starts to play on her TV. The ice cream helps fill the ache in her heart and lulls her to sleep, causing the ice cream to melt as she slumbers.

———

It has been about a month since Y/N’s last event and the exes haven’t seen each other since. In that month, Drew realized he lost his social security card. He couldn’t get a new one yet because his birth certificate was missing too. His brain wracks through the last time he remembers seeing it and bites his lip when he realizes where it is. He left it in Y/N’s filing cabinet. She had insisted he put all his important documents there for safekeeping. His social security card must be there too. This is how he finds himself waiting at the concierge desk of her building. He no longer had access to her apartment without going through security protocols. “Hello, Ms. Y/L/N. There is a Mr. Starkey here. He says that he needs to retrieve a birth certificate and social security card from your residence,” he listens to the concierge call Y/N. The man behind the desk places the phone on the receiver and turns to Drew, “She says you can go up.”

He listens to the elevator music, tugging on his flannel’s sleeves with nerves. He doesn’t know what to expect with being so close to her again. The front door is already open once he gets to her floor. His feet glide against the tile of the floor, scarping a little against it. Y/N is waiting for him at the door. “Where are the documents?” she asks. He gives her a soft smile, “I forgot them in your filing cabinet.” Her slippered feet slap against the hardwood floor as she walks to her home office. Drew removes his shoes and follows her. He catches up to her to see she is already getting out his files from the cabinet. He holds his hand out to take them, only for her to throw them carelessly onto her desk. She doesn’t wait for him to take it for her to quickly leave her office.

He runs after her, not ready to let this conversation come to an end. “Your charity event last month was amazing,” he applauds. She doesn’t look over her shoulder whilst she boils some water for tea, “Really? I didn’t think you had noticed with Ms. Chambers on your arm.” “Am I detecting jealousy?” he kids, hoping it would relieve some of her tension. “Jealous of Francesca Chambers?” Y/N laughs. “Why? Because she gets my sloppy leftovers. Because she is dating someone who promised to protect me, but is the reason why I got shot.” It was cruel to use Drew’s lowest point in life and to pit it against him. She doesn’t care. She needs him to hurt more than she does right now. She can’t stand to be in his presence. Drew’s heart bleeds with pain and it takes everything in him not to start crying at that instant. His insecurity starts to make itself known again. The constant belief of being at fault for his precious almost dying plagues his mind. He deserves this pain. It’s only half of what he deserves. “I never wanted you to get hurt. You know that right?” he justifies, stepping forward only for her to step back.

“Well, I did get hurt, Drew. You couldn’t protect me and I almost died. It was all your fault,” she screams. “Leave. I want you to go, now!” He tries to argue. “Precious, please. I need to hear you say that you know I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he pleads. No matter how irrational, he needs confirmation that she trusts him. That she did believe he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. She needs his anguish to subdue hers. “Please, Precious. Tell me that you believe me.” She breathes out a low chuckle, “Why would I say that? It. Was. Your. Fault.” Words can’t explain the feeling in his heart. The acid of her word burns his heart so it disintegrates. The one thing left behind is the carving of her name, waiting to be filled by her love again.

———

There were three places where James didn’t need to follow Y/N to every room she went. Her apartment. Her father’s house. And her office. At her apartment and dad’s place, James needed to remain on the premises and ready to be at her side. In her office, he could remain in front of her office as long as he checked in with her every hour. An hour isn’t very long; however, it is long enough for Y/N to disappear. “I’m just going to meeting room five-sixty. It’s supposed to be a two-hour meeting,” she fills him in. He bobs his head, “Got it. I’ll check in on you in an hour.” With her notebooks and laptop in her arms, she heads toward the elevator and presses the down button. Being on the twentieth floor meant that she had a long wait down to the fifth floor. On her ride down, people went on and off without her attention because she was absorbed by her phone. She should’ve been watching her environment. Drew used to drill into her brain how important it was to do so if she was alone. It must have slipped her mind.

By the time an unsettling feeling overcame her, it was too late. Her eyes glance up from her phone and she twists to the other person in the elevator. Ahead of her recognition of the figure beside her, a white cloth smothers her mouth and nose, causing her to inhale the fumes. It has a hint of sweetness combined with the familiar scent of nail polish remover. Her orbits start to droop and she is pulled into unconsciousness.

———

She wakes up cuffed to a chair. Her hands and feet are both restrained and she tries to break the chair. A shooting pain goes up her butt while the sound of metal hitting concrete reverberates through the cold cement room. Shit, it’s a metal chair. She doesn’t bother to shriek for help. There is no point in wasting her energy. She tries to think of how to dislocate her thumb to escape the cuffs. It doesn’t come to her. The door in front of her opens with a squeal and her kidnapper makes herself known. Sienna Cox is a carbon copy of her brother. Y/N recognizes Sienna from the pictures Sean showed her during their three dates. The dangerous woman approaches Y/N with a knife in her hand. She circles the chair, letting metal glide against metal. Y/N flinches as the sharp point greets her soft skin. “You are the reason my brother is in jail,” Sienna states, hate dripping from each word. Y/N is never one to back down, “Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s because your brother tried to kill my then-boyfriend, which got me shot. Your brother almost killed me.”

Sienna’s hand harshly tugs back Y/N’s head and the point of the knife connects with her neck. Y/N tries to remove Sienna’s hold, which produces a crimson knick on the side of her neck. “No, my brother is in jail because you had to choose a low-life bodyguard over him,” she growls. Y/N provokes Sienna more, “Hmm, nope. Your brother being an ass and delusional is the reason why he is in jail.” “Ugh, shut up,” Sienna yells, pulling pain from the incapacitated girl by slashing her forearm. Blood oozes from the cut and she can tell it is going to need stitches. She cries out in pain, starting to truly feel her life is in danger. Earlier, she didn’t think Sienna was capable of hurting her. How could she be so stupid?

———

Drew previously thought the day Y/N got shot was the most terrible day of his life. He was wrong. The ringing of his phone stops him from doing his job. He should be watching Francesca at the mall. The phone call prohibits him from doing it. The sole thing more important than James’ call would be Y/N’s. “She has been taken.” No greetings. No pleasantries. No small talk. Those didn’t matter though. Y/N was in danger. Drew doesn’t think about his client and runs to the car. “I want you to pull all the security footage from wherever you are. Comb it for the last seen citing of her,” he instructs. “Get background checks on everyone, and I mean everyone, who has been in the same vicinity as the place where she last was seen in within the last thirty minutes of her being there. Where are you?”

“Her office. She went down to the fifth floor for her meeting. She never got there.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon. Start with the hallway footage for both the twentieth and fifth floors as well as the elevators. Have a secondary team look through all other footage.”

“Got it.”

He blows through every single stoplight. He’ll deal with this later. James meets Drew at the door and gives him an update on what they found so far. “We know she was taken from the elevator, except we can’t identify the person who took her because a hat is obstructing her face,” James notifies. Drew looks shocked, “How do you know it was a female?” All the women, who don’t like Y/N, never registered as a peril to him. They weren’t the type to get their hands dirty with physical harm. “Height and body shape. We are going through the women who checked in to match outfits with the pictures they took when they checked in,” James clarifies. His brain processes everything, “You probably aren’t going to find her at the check-in. Get the tech geeks to program the computers to extract all the footage with similar clothes to the suspect. I’ll go through all of it myself. I want it done in the next five minutes.”

Y/N’s office is eerily cold without her brilliant smile to light it up. His hand traces against the glass desk's smooth surface. He should’ve been here to stop her from being taken. It’s happening all over again. This could be his chance. He could halt her from being hurt. From nearing the brink of death again. This time, he is going to be there to be the one to protect her. His vows to himself are interrupted by James. “They got what you want.” Drew jogs after James to the emergency base camp for the search. “Show me what you got,” he orders. He inspects the screens simultaneously and finds what he needs. He knows her from the background research he did on her brother. Sienna Cox.

———

Honestly, Y/N would’ve done anything to get away from Sienna. Her villain monologue is a horrible torture method. At least she is too distracted to use the knife more on Y/N. “And when I visit him in jail, they take my phone away. Do you know how hard it is to not be able to use my phone for an hour?” Sienna complains, twirling the knife in her hand. Y/N fights the urge to make a snarky remark. The ruckus from upstairs freezes both girls. “Ugh, what could that be?” Sienna groans, leaving the room.

Drew wanted Sienna to know they were there. It would make it more fun for him and the group. The narrow hallway means Y/N can merely be in one direction. I’m coming for you, Precious. He thinks to himself. Sienna rounds the corner of the doorway and halts at the guns trained on her. She changes course back to where she came from. The rescue team runs after her to find her with a knife against Y/N’s neck. “Take one more step and this Bitch gets a new necklace. A deadly one,” Sienna warns, digging the knife in harder. A sob racks through Y/N’s body until she spots Drew in front of her. A silent connection transcends them with their eyes locked on each other. She didn’t mean those words and she trusts him. On the way over here, Drew found out everything about Sean’s sister and what buttons of hers to push. “Okay. I just wanted to let you know that James over here loves your podcast,” Drew plays into her ego. He discovered if there was one thing Sienna loved more than her brother, it was herself.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t buy his bait and the knife bites more into Y/N’s neck so that blood flourishes around it. Y/N whimpers at the new pressure on her. “You think that you can flatter me into letting your precious Y/N go? Well, you can’t! You guys are the reason why my brother is in jail and I’m going to stop her from testifying against him,” Sienna screeches. Her arm raises in the air with the knife, ready to bring it back down into Y/N. Drew has killed before, but this is personal. He can’t let fear come in the way of what he has to do and he prays that Y/N has the sense to stay still. His gun aligns with Sienna’s head, taking the shot. A coined-size hole punctures her head and blood spews out of the wound. Y/N shouts as red rain showers her. “Get me out of here, please,” she implores, struggling against her restraints. Drew motions with his head to tell James to take care of Sienna whilst he helps Y/N. He hurries towards her, pulling out a tissue from his pocket.

One hand smoothes back her hair and the other wipes the blood off with the tissue. “Drew, you’re here,” she sobs out, reaching for him with her seized hands. Red swelts are starting to form around her wrist and Drew wishes he could kill Sienna a second time. He gently pushes her hand against the metal armrests, “Of course, I am, Precious. But I need you to give me a second, okay? I’m going to get bolt cutters to get you out of here.” Her pleas end his movement. “Don’t leave me, please. I don’t want to be alone.” He nods at her need and wraps his arms around her shoulder. His lips press against her temple, “Never. I’ll never leave you.” He calls out for some bolt cutters and a few minutes later he is given some. “Okay, Precious. I’m going to cut the cuffs off with these. It might be a little loud,” he briefs her. He snips the bracelets around her wrists and ankles. She is finally able to move freely, bringing Drew as close as possible to her. “I was so scared. I thought I was going to die,” she confesses, gripping to him like he is a life raft. He flattens her hair some more, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Y/N,” a familiar voice hails. She untangles herself from Drew’s hold, tearing his heart apart at the loss of contact. Her father grasps her in his arms. The father-daughter duo cling to each other, weeping at the fear of her being lost. Drew did what he came to do and it seems like he isn’t needed anymore. With his vision trained on the pair, he exits the damp cellar and goes home.

———

Saving her proved to him how much of a mistake breaking up with her in the first place was. Simply apologizing to her isn’t what she deserves for what he did. He could make a big grand gesture to show how wrong he was. Pay for a skywriter. Organize a flash mob at her favourite places. Rent a billboard at Time Square. Those weren’t right for Y/N though. They weren’t personal to her; nonetheless, Drew knew the perfect thing for her.

———

It’s been a week since Y/N was held captive for about three hours. She has already found a therapist, who has been helping her through her trauma. One thing has been killing her since that day and it’s the fact that she didn’t get to say thank you to Drew for saving her. She was horrid to him when he came to get his documents and she completely picked at his insecurities. Even with her behaviour towards him, he was there for her in her greatest moment of need. To add the cherry on top of the cake, he quit his job at the security agency because of her. He was going to get a suspension for leaving Francesca at the mall, so he decided to quit instead. James reassured her that Drew had enough money saved up to be out of work for at least ten years, which eased some of her worries. She glances at James standing behind her and she brings her hand up to knock on the door.

Drew opens the door with a measuring tape around his neck. A dazzling smile crosses her face and her eyebrows form a hairy caterpillar. “Precious, are you okay?” he frets, examining every inch of her to make sure she has no additional injuries. She nods and spots the sewing machine behind him on his table. The sage green fabric is snagged between the sewing needle and the base of the machine. She shakes out of her confusion to verbally answer him, “Yeah, I’m fine. I actually came to say thank you. You know… for last week. You don’t know how much it meant for me that you were there.” She fiddles with her fingers and his hand cups his neck as he rubs it. “You don’t have to thank me, Precious. I know I hurt you, but I will always be there to save you. I’m glad you are safe,” he appeases. She disagrees, “No, I was so rude to you. You didn’t deserve it. I hurt you and you put it aside to help me, like what I should’ve done that day.” He doesn’t need her to tell him what day she is talking about. He already knows.

Silence overcomes the couple and Y/N is again drawn to the equipment behind him. Her finger points at everything, “What’s all of this?” “Oh, um,” the hand on his neck continues its friction of the skin. “I’m trying to sew you a jacket.” One corner of her mouth raises, “You are making me a jacket?”

“Yeah… I made a mistake and I needed to show you how much I love you, so I wanted to make you a jacket that says, Precious.”

Her heart skips a beat and the idea of him learning to sew just for her makes her feel honoured. “That’s really sweet, Drew.”

“Can I tell you something?” he asks. This is his opportunity to tell her who she is to him. Her head hinges up and down. His hand laces with hers and he pulls her into this apartment. He closes the door, “I called you precious because even before we started dating, I knew you would be a treasure to me. It was an instant connection for me and I was a fool to have let you go. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me now. I just need you to know all this.” Her hand reaches up to his chest, grazing it softly with her warmth. “You broke up with me and I didn’t think I could ever forgive you. But you were there when I needed you and with the jacket, I can see how remorseful you are about the decision you made. I’ve made some poor choices too. And if you can forgive me too, then I think we both deserve a second chance,” she admits, not being able to meet his eyes. His finger raises her chin, “I will always forgive you because there is no one else in this world that I was meant to protect more than you. A second chance is all we are going to need. I’m never letting you go.” She jumps into his hold, smushing her lips onto his. His hands grip her thighs to keep her steady and his tongue enters her mouth.

Air eventually needs to enter their lungs, so they break apart with their foreheads together. He sneaks a peek at the fabric on the table and he sighs. “I know I’m supposed to be making it for you, but I’m going to need your help with the jacket. I screwed up somewhere and I have no idea how to fix it,” he fesses up. She giggles, “I can do that, except not right now. There is something else we need to be doing other than sewing.” He grins at the way her eyebrows move and he carries her to his bedroom.

A few months ago, Drew had made the biggest regret of his life. All he saw was his faults and it led him to that decision. Thankfully, the universe saw his pain and decided to help him out. It gave him a chance to prove to himself he was worthy. It gave him his redemption.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @f4ll-for-you @mellillasstuff @jjsmarijuana @thelomlisrafecameron @crlsummer @rubixgsworld

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff #rafe #bodyguard!drew #bodyguard!drew starkey

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cockslutpadalecki · 1 year

Text

But The Flesh Is Always Weak

Summary: It’s been a week since Andy broke things off, but to you, it feels like a lifetime.

Characters: Professor!Andy Barber x Student!Reader.

Words: 3K.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, possessive behaviour, unhinged behaviour, gaslighting, manipulation, a face slap, throat grabbing, hate sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), forced orgasm, throat fucking, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: The last visit to these two… well, for now. Thought I’d had better get round to posting this! You can read the rest of their story here. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

It’s only been a week since Andy broke things off, citing, “You should be dating boys your own age,” but it feels like a lifetime. A lifetime spent in hell.

Every passing minute hurts. Every waking thought is plagued by his words and his touch on your skin. You drive yourself crazy, crying to the point of exhaustion before you wake up and do it all over again.

You can’t eat; you can’t sleep. Your chest aches with every breath you take without him, and quite often as you clutch at it in the midst of another breakdown, you wonder if dying from a broken heart is possible.

You shuffle through each day like a zombie, mindless with no real destination in mind— just wandering around waiting for something to distract you.

It’s not until you get an email from him nine days in— addressed not only to you, but the Dean— that the agony seems to lessen slightly at the sight of his name.

“I’m reaching out as you haven’t been to class for the past week and a half. I’m growing concerned for your wellbeing as this is just not like you. Please get in touch as soon as possible.”

It becomes an olive branch that you obsess over, desperately trying to seek out any hidden message he could be attempting to send. But after days of searching, you have nothing to show for your efforts and you begin to resent him.

Anger bubbles up in place of your heartache— a strange sense of still needing him like you need air, but at the same time, wishing you could hurt him just as badly as he has hurt you.

You can’t believe he has the audacity to show concern like he’s not solely responsible for shattering your world into a million tiny irreparable pieces, without a shred of noticeable apathy.

The driving force that propels you to attend his class surprises even you. You wake before your alarm, eager to dress in the outfit you excitedly picked the night before. Your stomach flutters as you walk through campus, feeling the most clear-headed you have in days. You can’t wait to see him.

You feel a little giddy at the prospect of seeing evidence of the breakup on his face— perhaps red-rimmed eyes or melancholy preventing his smile from reaching his lips, but he somehow looks better now than before.

He doesn’t bat an eyelid when you slink into the hall while he’s mid-speech. He barely acknowledges your presence when you hand him your overdue essay; a secret love note slipped in between the pages just like you used to do.

But what stings the most is that he doesn’t stop you from leaving when class is over. It’s like you don’t exist. Like the past nine months meant nothing, along with the litany of promises he’s already broken.

He’s doing fine and you’re not? How is that fair? your mind screams as you glance over your shoulder, catching Rebecca hovering around his desk like a common house fly, buzzing around shit.

You pause in the doorway, your stomach dropping like lead when Andy finally approaches her, and places his hand delicately on her arm.

And as he flashes her a wide grin, all of the momentum inside you deflates— the hurt and pain he has caused you morphs into pure rage.

The following evening, you know he’ll be alone at home. Five times you try to talk yourself out of going, but the overriding consensus eventually wins— he won’t be able to turn you away on his own doorstep. You just want to talk to him.

Maybe ask if he’s replaced you with Rebecca yet.

You pull up outside his neighbors’ and switch off the engine, gathering up the courage to get out when you notice movement at the front door. Andy steps outside, but he’s not alone.

You’ve only seen her— his wife— in photographs, and you actually hate that she’s more beautiful in person. Part of you wonders why Andy would betray her, but then you remember all of the horror stories he would tell you.

Her beauty is only skin deep.

From the things you know about their relationship— how strained it is— it surprises you when he wraps his arm around her shoulder, leaning in to kiss her hair as they walk to his car. They’re laughing, smiling without a care in the world. From this vantage point, they look and act like newlyweds. You feel sick as you keep watching, noticing the way he gently pats her ass when she climbs into the passenger seat.

The same passenger seat you’ve sat in countless times on drives back from secret trysts in dingy motel rooms, while your cunt still throbs.

Just before he gets into the car, he looks over his shoulder and for a wild moment, you swear he locks eyes with you from across the street.

He’s brought her here. The same place you used to have dinner. For a moment it feels like a knife wound to the heart that he would have the audacity to share this with her, but then you realise he has to be sending you a message. He must know you’ve followed him and he’s trying to communicate with you covertly so as not to draw attention to it.

Your stomach flutters, feeling a heavy sense of relief wash over you.

He still cares. He still wants you.

For an hour, you sit in the parking lot before you regret drinking so much soda on your way here, needing desperately to pee. You know you could go to the mall across the street, but your feet pull you towards the restaurant before you can stop them.

You make your way to the restroom, careful to avoid their table, and just as you’re about to leave, you spot Andy making his way towards you. Your heart leaps into your chest and you double back, waiting for the moment he’ll come bursting in, overwhelmed with joy at the sight of you.

Nothing but silence follows, except for the dull thud of the men’s door opening and closing.

Naughty. He wants you to go to him.

Giggling, you sneak out of the women’s and push open the door to the men’s restroom, confused a little when you don’t spot Andy at the urinals. You’re about to retreat when you hear his familiar whistle, remembering all the mornings after the night before where you’d wake up to the sound of him in the en suite, whistling his favorite tune.

He knows you’re listening. Dropping breadcrumbs in the hopes you’ll follow the trail right to his feet. And as you slip through the small gap between the door and frame, you hungrily swallow down every piece.

You wait until he’s finished in the stall before making yourself known. You don’t want to frighten him but as he begins to turn in the small space, ready to leave, he spots you in the doorway and nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Jesus, what the fuck!” he half shouts, half whispers.

“Oh god, I missed you,” you gush. Andy stares wide-eyed at you when you rush towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You inhale deeply and revel in his familiar smell, the scent enveloping you like a hazy dream. It feels so good to be so close to him again. Pulling back, you gaze up at him before rising onto your tiptoes, preparing to place a kiss on his lips.

He quickly intervenes, pushing you away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you so I went to your office, but you weren’t there so I thought I’d go by your house,” you reply simply, like he’s just asked you what two plus two is.

“Th-that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

You shrug. “I saw you getting in the car, so I followed you.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I wanted to see where you were going, silly,” you giggle. “Bet you couldn’t imagine my surprise when you brought her to our place,” you add a little sharply.

“Actually, I used to come here…” he pauses before continuing with, “y’know, before.”

The metaphorical knife in your chest twists at his words, but you manage to recover quickly.

“It’s okay,” you smile, “I can let that go.”

You reach out for his hand, loving the softness, but inexplicably rough of his skin on yours. He allows it for a moment, running his thumb over yours before snatching it away.

“You can’t be here.”

“Afraid she’ll catch us?” you sidle up to him with a cute laugh. “Is this a new thing you want us to try?” Gently, you cup him through his pants and a wave of heat ripples through your gut. Andy hisses, his cock stirring against you as you squeeze gently, encouraging it to swell. “C’mon, don’t you remember the risks we used to take?” You rise up again, kissing the underside of his bottom lip. Even his beard feels amazing brushing across your chin.

He snaps, yelling, “No!” as he pushes you away, yet again.

Sudden hot tears gather in your eyes at his outburst and a horrid realization sets in. “Have you really moved on already?”

“How can I move on from something we never really had in the first place?” he brutally admits.

Ouch.

“But you promised me the world,” you start tearfully, “why would you choose her over me?”

Andy’s brow furrows. “She’s my wife.”

So? “That didn’t seem to matter when you were fucking me in her bed.”

White hot pain explodes across your cheek as the sound of the slap follows. Your hand shoots up to cradle the area, your skin throbbing. Fresh tears form as you try to stop yourself from crying with a loud sniff.

Andy steps to you, covering your hand with his. You’ve never seen him look so apologetic, even after he dumped you. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— that was wrong.”

You stare up at him, wide-eyed as he comforts you, asking if you’re okay. You just nod slowly, unable to find the words. This is what you needed to prove he still cares.

“What we did, we shouldn’t have done,” he says softly. “I took advantage of you.”

“Was it really taking advantage when I wanted you too?”

Andy smiles kindly, stroking your hand with his thumb. “I can’t give you what you want. You need someone who will treat you like you deserve.”

“Why would I want anybody else?” you counter back with a shake of your head.

He lifts his hand from yours and places them both on his hips with a heavy sigh. “I know it’s hard to get over somebody you care about, but with time, it will get easier.” He reaches out, tenderly rubs your bicep as a form of comfort. He looks awkward doing it, like he’s afraid to touch you, when he’s touched you— fucked you in more intimate places than most boys would even be able to find on a map.

Is he recounting that from experience? Is he telling you he’s not really over you either despite his insistence he is?

“I don’t want time, I don’t want it to get easier. I just want you.”

Andy rubs his fingers into his eyes and lets go of an exasperated huff. “Listen to me,” he glances up, lips tight in a frown, “I’ve tried to be nice about it, but this is the last time I’m gonna say this. We’re over.”

Your cheek smarts as your jaw tightens and the rage you’ve managed to suppress bubbles up. “Then I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone you hit me.”

He stares down at you in contempt for the first time ever, his features twisted in disgust. “That was an accident, I didn’t mean to do it, you know that.”

“Was it though?” You give him a teasing pout. “‘Mr. Barber came onto me, slapped me when I said no’,” you put on a sad voice before it returns to normal. “Sounds like an open and shut case to me.”

“Don’t you understand how damaging those accusations would be?” he spits, incensed. “I would lose my job, my marriage, everything.”

You smile at him, giddy. “But then we could be together for real! No college to prosecute you for fucking a student and she’d divorce you, it’s perfect.”

The ire on Andy’s face contorts into sheer bafflement. “You crazy bitch, you’ve lost your fucking mind.” He tries to shuffle past you, but you block his way. “Get out of my way before I move you myself.”

“What are you going to do, Sir?” you taunt. “Hit me again?”

He lunges forward, hand wrapped around your throat and forces you up against the wall of the stall. “Don’t tempt me,” he breathes out heavily, gazing down at your body until his eyes meet yours once again. “Why I ever thought getting involved with you was a good idea, I’ll never know.”

“Because, and I quote, ‘no other pussy could ever come close’,” you manage to croak out from beneath his grip. Reaching out, you cup him through his pants and he hisses between gritted teeth.

Andy swats your hand away, but you quickly grab hold of his, shoving it beneath the hem of your dress. You let out a moan as his fingers brush up against your damp panties.

You see the way Andy’s eyes flicker at the contact, the slight loss of control when his fingers flex around your throat. You move his hand up and down your clothed cunt, letting go of tiny whimpers as flames of heat begin burning through your core.

“Touch me,” you beg. “Please.”

His jaw ticks like he’s fighting with himself, growling under his breath as you use his hand to pluck your panties to the side.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you purr. “Show me how much you’ve missed my tight little cunt.”

Closing his eyes, he mutters, “Stop,” but makes no attempt to pull away.

He wants this just as much as you.

And when you finally manipulate his fingers inside you, you can feel the resistance ebb as he starts to fight for control and eventually you let go, confident in the knowledge he’s not going to pull away. You reach for him and unzip his pants, the warmth of his cock meeting your fingertips as you slip your hand inside the gap.

“Remember how good I used to make you feel,” you whisper with delicacy.

He doesn’t respond, instead choosing to stare at you the entire time, face tight with disdain as the sloppy wet sounds of your cunt fill the tiny stall. Legs trembling, you can feel your orgasm beginning to crest. The pressure in your gut becomes too much. You push at his hand to move it away, but Andy doesn’t stop.

“No. You wanted this, so you’re gonna come,” he tells you sharply. “Do it.”

“I c-can’t.”

“You will.” He leans in, capturing your lips in a wet kiss as he presses the base of his palm against your clit, and you unravel like a spool of thread.

You’re still coming as he removes his hands from your body, hurriedly lifting you up around his waist. He’s inside you in one swift stroke, stuffing you to the brim for a split second before he’s pulling back out.

He fucks you like he hates you. Mean, hard thrusts that push you back against the stall until your spine physically aches from the force. You embrace it— every bruise, every welt— the pain reminds you of how close you came to losing him, and you promise yourself that it won’t happen again.

Another wave of heat builds steadily beneath your skin, tingling all the way down to your toes. This time, you welcome the overstimulation, squirting all over his cock with a heady moan.

“Oh fuck,” he growls into the juncture of your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. “God, holy shit.” Andy roughly pulls out, and drops you to your feet. He tugs on his dick as you move to kneel before him, presenting your tongue like a dog waiting for a treat.

Andy grabs your hair, tugging hard on the roots as he shoves his cock to the back of your throat and you gag from the lack of warning. He fucks your mouth, exploding messily across your tongue with a strained grunt, stray droplets of cum spilling out from the corner of your lips, unable to lick them away.

Your throat throbs when he retreats, and blessed air rushes back into your lungs with an almighty whoosh. Eventually, he loosens his grip on your skull and leans into the stall with his palm, eyes firmly closed. His breathing is still jagged and unsteady as he repeats, “fuck,” to himself as the enormity of the situation comes crashing down around him.

Finally, his eyes flicker open, the pure disgust and conviction returning to his expression as he stares down at you, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it.

“This is it,” he states curtly. You slowly rise to your feet in the small gap, leaning in to kiss him but he pulls back.

“Don’t be like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You used to love tasting yourself on my lips.”

His jaw tightens in frustration as he snaps, “I mean it,” and your name rolls off his tongue like molasses.

“Okay,” you smirk with a light shrug, triumphant that despite his insistence, you know it won’t be. You have leverage and Andy, of all people, should know that's the golden ticket. You slip from the stall without another word, taking a moment to check yourself out in the mirror before turning to press a finger to your lips. Grabbing the door handle, you yank it open without bothering to check if anyone is around before sauntering out, a little limp new to your gait.

***

ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel @broadwaybabe18 @captain-asguard @chamberofsloths @cevansgurl @dreamlessinparis @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @kellhems @ladybug05 @mugi-chwan95 @navybrat817 @otomefromtheheart @oneoftheprettynerds @patzammit @rebel-stardust @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @sammykb1994 @syrenavenger @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @threeminutesoflife @vicmc624 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wintasssoldier @xoxonotme

4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @chibijusstuff @callsignrambam @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @labella420 @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @sage-writing @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @wayward-dreamer @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #defending jacob fanfiction #dark!reader #chris evans fanfiction

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bladekindeyewear · 1 month

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-08-16

(Previous post - current page 666)

We're continuing from yesterday inside Therapy Purgatory, and by checking out this second part with what looks like Mindfang's Journal, I'll finally be caught up on Homestuck^2: Beyond Canon and ready to liveblog any future updates as they come! :D Don't expect me to drop everything and blog immediately every time there's an upd8, but you CAN expect me to be ready to liveblog at least within a couple days of each one, I'll try to keep track of the Homestuck Twitter for updates to this section specifically too.

So, Mindfang's Journal... what will this represent in comparison to the others? Not Terezi, yet? It seems like her feelings toward Terezi would be either saved for the last part (the 8-ball) or not shown here at all, because her path to growth regarding Terezi is meant to be resolved outside the Plot Point's purgatory, not inside.

Will this deal with her relationship with her ancestor, and/or her mother? Is she going to see that she was looking up to a toxic role model in those journals? Are we going to see any hints of Vriska having been transfem or is that relegated to Pesterquest still, 'cause that would be nice to see? (I don't know much about Pesterquest other than that toblerone wish being fulfilled over there along with several other possible-trans identities hinted, no need to spoil me on any of it in case I have the courage to go through that content someday. It'd be too much work to LIVEBLOG it but I might go through it on my own and have commentary to share with y'all or something.)

Okay, clicking on Mindfang's journal now...

YEAR 4

WOW, she's going to have caught up to John (and/or Terezi in the (Meat) Timeline more like) in age at this rate? GOSH she takes a long time to psychotherapize but this is the best deus ex machina I could have ever imagined, getting her to have so much time without distractions to ACTUALLY work through her issues is fucking incredible.

But what is she working on this time?

Oh hi, one of the Nannasprites? Her "lucky mojo"... so she doesn't feel like she has her powers in this realm, which makes sense because there's no relevance or luck left to take/steal from here that isn't already concentrated inside herself?

HOLY SHIT SHE'S ACTUALLY GROWING UP IN THE SPRITEWORK, she's taller with longer horns and everything!!!!! Compare to this from the Flarp Manual section:

--although when you compare that to THIS from the very BEGINNING of page 666's sequence before the two year skip, there's not much change:

--so this NEW, MUCH TALLER sprite model is a huge step up in visual age that will likely last a section or two at least, or even serve as her final form aside from outfit changes.

Moving on...

Okay, so she's been trying to use her powers with everyone cheering her on, and it hasn't been working.

VRISKA: I don't want to 8ore you, it's just the same pro8lem as always. VRISKA: Finally I get my sea legs and figured out what this whole process is a8out, 8reeze through Eridan and John and Kanaya, only to get stuck all over again on HER.

Interesting... so is it Terezi, Mindfang, or her Lusus? I figure the Cueball section that isn't done yet is Doc Scratch, because Doc was someone who intentionally used and took advantage of her faults compared to almost anyone else, and fooled her into using the excuse of inevitability. Interesting that that's the next step after she's "cleared" lessons she's learned from her past relationships with the others offscreen. So who's this HER who's the step before this?

VRISKA: I'm not so sure........she's different from the rest of them. And no matter how I approach this, I can't figure out what the hell she wants.

Hm-- perhaps this one isn't about listening to them and what they want, but penetrating through to a way in which THEY wronged YOU and that you SHOULDN'T be listening to what they want, if we're going with Mindfang or her Lusus?

Ooh, it's weird and heartening to hear her honestly telling the Nannasprite Duo that they've made this "whole experience way more 8earable" and honestly thanking them. She's really in the process of growing up emotionally, not just physically, and it's SHOWING.

And now she's talking about having talked with John about Nanna and their shared experience of "connecting to our predecessors through their writings". Maybe "HER" IS Terezi, and she's going to try to take a detour to try and learn from Mindfang to help her with the process, only to figure out how to be somewhat disillusioned with Mindfang or actually learn from Mindfang's mistakes somehow?

VRISKA: What exactly do humans get out of these familial prim8 relationships, anyway?

Hrmm, maybe this IS about her lusus?

Ooh, Vriska asking Nannasprite why she had children (Dad Egbert). Never thought she'd ask something like that.

NANNASPRITE: I couldn't exactly bring that man [Sassacre] back from the dead, but I could put myself in his shoes and do the bang up job he never had the opportunity to do. Not to mention, I like babies! :B

Yeah, you would!

Hahah, of course Vriska doesn't understand why a human would want to raise a gross infant. So maybe this IS about her Lusus, and why her Lusus would really "want" to raise her and not eat her in part, not to mention accepting how her Lusus essentially abused and used her in ways that fucked her up?

Nanna talking about wanting to avenge herself against the Batterwitch once, before she'd vanished, of course.

NANNASPRITE: So many nights spent plotting that awful woman's downfall and making her pay for all the indignities of my childhood. For always making me feel like I was powerless to do anything.

OH THIS SECTION IS TOTALLY ABOUT VRISKA AND HER LUSUS ISN'T IT!!!

NANNASPRITE: Not to mention that now, after seeing what my younger self has gotten up to in this realm [Candy], I clearly underestimated the depth of my own desires.

Yeah, that must have been disconcerting. It's so easy for Life players, tied to the aspect of power and wealth and privilege, to decide they want IT ALL regardless of their class.

And Nannasprite realizes that if she HAD gotten revenge against the Batterwitch she wouldn't have been satisfied, that's a mature viewpoint; she can't fill the hole in her heart with it.

Wow, even watching Vriska these past few years has changed Nannasprite's point of view, she says?

NANNASPRITE: I had always wanted Betty Crocker to know what a mistake it was to steal my life, my potential, from me. NANNASPRITE: But the real issue was that not once during my childhood did I ever feel particularly wanted, or welcomed, into the world. I only had my brother, and even he ran off on me! NANNASPRITE: Yet despite that fact, and the anger and the disappointment, I still raised someone who knew what it was like to be loved.

And that pretty much SOLIDIFIES that this has to be about Vriska's lusus. We'll finally get to hear the version of her that TALKED to Vriska in sprite form, possibly! That would be the best way to work through the abuse that she was put through in part, and how unloved she felt in other-part where she felt if she didn't feed her lusus said lusus would easily have turned on her and eaten her to search out better food providers, Vriska likely always believed. Perhaps she'll also learn that her lusus thought teaching her to feed on and kill other trolls would MAKE HER STRONG, much like Bro's abuse of Dave was intended to make HIM 'strong' but weakened him in ways he's still reckoning with.

Nannasprite definitely feels that despite her hardship, she "indeed fulfill a path of potential to its fullest degree", lived a full and enriching life by doing what her own parent wouldn't for her for someone else, and doesn't regret it. And almost ("marginally") is grateful for the Batterwitch serving as counterexample, as learning NOT to live like her taught her how to seek true happiness through fulfilling others, not just herself. Vriska needs to learn this same lesson from her own experience with her lusus, it's being all spelled out here practically. Heck, it almost feels like we're speedrunning the part, except Vriska will need a bit more than the answer spelled out for her like this to get it through her thick head I bet.

VRISKA: I guess that makes sense. Weren't you worried, though? That you weren't following the right path, or living up to your destiny? NANNASPRITE: I never even considered that, hoo hoo! NANNASPRITE: Is that how you kids think these days? My lord, no wonder none of you go outside anymore.

(Pff)

Interesting, maybe Mindfang IS involved in this section too, maybe BOTH her lusus and Mindfang-- and the above is indeed an insecurity Vriska reckoned with through the very end of her plotline so far.

VRISKA: Don't p8tronize me, old lady! Destiny's the found8tion of my godhood!

Yeah, she still has a lot to learn.

Nannasprite contending that "destiny mostly fulfills itself" is nice, and also a very Life-player outlook I'd think.

Aw, Vriska's even apologizing for getting snippy!! She's come so far already!!!

Oh gosh, this WONDERFUL pose in this frame and Vriska's eye shining with emotion in it, that's so good.

{Choose Mindfang's Journal.}

Pure white...?

{????????}

Oh you overdramatic 8itch, Ancestor-version Aranea Serket! Mindfang being as overdramatic and insufferable as she TRULY MUST HAVE BEEN.

Now she's storywriting for her, setting a scene unseen, the way Mindfang's journals must have done for Vriska making her imagine her ancestor's setting and travels. Also interesting how her tangled spiderweb looked like broken glass...

As was the figure 8efore her. Though she had only ever seen it 8ehind her eyes, its form was shaped 8y words.

I have to admit, overdramatic as Mindfang can be, sometimes her writing is really damned good.

VRISKA: You can drop the ominous buildup, I already know the twist.

Hahahaha, even SHE'S getting impatient with Mindfang by now.

Oh? Had the thief 8een here 8efore?

Interesting to see the ghost/image that "shouldn't" know about the broader situation visibly deducing things about its recurrence, because both the real Mindfang would have and Vriska's image of her was smart enough to put it together.

--AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK FOR THE LAST TWO YEARS!??! WOW. When she said she was stuck at this part, she wasn't kidding! I hope some of what Nannasprite just told her helps her finally break through the web Mindfang's journal caught her in.

VRISKA: The whole endeavor usually ends with me either killing you or... feeding myself to you.

WOW

IT'S HER LUSUS *AND* MINDFANG COMBINED

HOLY SHIT

Talk about a tangled knot of insecurities to tackle together all at once!!!!!!

VRISKA: You were all like, "Surprise, 8itch. I'm 8oth the Marquise, and your lusus!" And I fell str8 on my ass, flipping the fuck out like a 8ig tool.

Of course, this wasn't the way it was back in her real life. It's the fact that the impact both Mindfang and her Lusus's expectations had on her was similar, and an intertwined problem she has to deal with all at once. (Also this is a more interesting way to hear her lusus "talk to her" than hearing however the fuck Spidersprite must have roared.)

Scene change to the feeding cliff.

VRISKA: Hi, Momfang.

That's a heck of a nickname that works so well right now.

Holy FUCK AAAAH!!! That's a hell of a clever jumpscare and artistic depiction, her lusus roaring from out of the shape of the back of Mindfang's HAIR!

Ew, Vriska got stuck in the web once and had to eat her way out? Not pleasant.

WOW THAT'S DISTURBING, Mindfang tenderly hugging the lusus's severed head from after Vriska mercy-guillotine'd her. HS^2 artists are going crazy good here, both visually and thematically.

The girl was 8linded 8y her pup8ed angst. As 8efouled as those we8s were, this gossamer carnage had 8een home, once. Her time here made her who she was.

Fucking indeed. Vriska has to come to terms with that, both the good and bad of it, in ways she's refused to confront fully.

Mindfang asking her to collaborate with "thespian vivacity" here in her melodrama.

Yeah, back then the satisfaction of FLARP as a game was short-lived because it meant feeding the troll who lost to your lusus, ending in screams.

VRISKA: Every win, I had to share with her. Every moment, I felt her w8ting for me. It feels 8ad, not getting a choice when you do all the fucking work.

Yeah, her lusus's relationship with her was abusive and PARASITIC.

VRISKA: Sure, the 8ooty was gr8, up until the point where there was no one left to play with. After that, it was all good as gar8age.

:CCC

Ah HERE we go. Vriska's now hearing the voice of her mother(s) speaking to her conviction that it was a GOOD thing to be raised as a killer, when parts of Vriska have learned that there are ways of growing up not shouldering that awful responsibility that could have been better... but needs to accept that in her own case, too.

VRISKA: I've already tried respecting you for making me the 8est, 8ut you know what I'm realizing? VRISKA: I didn't have to go through aaaaaaaall of THAT to 8e strong. Vrissy didn't! VRISKA: Even growing up in a f8ke world where no one has a spine, and with 8arely any guidance, her powers can do things mine can't.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT she's LEARNING FROM VRISSY ALREADY YESSSSSSSS

AND FUCKING CONFIRMATION THAT I WAS RIGHT THAT SHE WAS MANIPULATING HUMANS IN WAYS VRISKA HERSELF COULDN'T!!!

I don't think this is the right place for her to realize that the other Vriska has a different Hero Role, but she will eventually, doubtless, if the theory pans out, and I just can't wait for that if it's going to happen.

VRISKA: 8ut that's the point, right? VRISKA: There is no p8sitive spin, no learning to appreci8 you, 8ecause even by Alternian st8ndards you sucked! VRISKA: You weren't a cust8dian, you were a responsi8ility. VRISKA: I protected you, I c8red for you, and you would have happily killed me the moment things didn't go your w8y.

FUCKING PREACH

And?

FUCK YOU MOMFANG

VRISKA: Th8t's not fucking norm8l!!!!!!!!

YESSSSS GROW UP VRISKA!!!!

Oh wow, now LUSUS HEAD Momfang is holding MINDFANG's head.

VRISKA: I had one place I was supposed to feel safe. VRISKA: Why did you h8ve to 8e everything wrong with the w8rld, rolled into one terri8le monster?

😭

Yeah, the momspider was only acting according to her toxic nature. There's nothing to redeem about it.

VRISKA: I KN8W YOU'RE HUNGRY! What a8out me? My entire gru8hood, I gave and you took. F8r once, what a8out what I w8nt?! She has never considered this. And wasn't considering it now, to be clear.

😭😭

8ut the narrator was curious, what DID the spiderling want from the monster?

Here we go... open your heart and spill out its contents, Vriska.

VRISKA: What I w8nt is for you to go 8ack in time and pr8tect that fucking kid, like you were supposed to!!!!!!!! VRISKA: If you did, may8e I'd 8e a8le to relax and let my f8cking guard down for ONCE, instead of const8ntly ruining things and thinking everyone is going to turn around and kill me!

😭😭😭

VRISKA: Oh my god. VRISKA: Tavros was right!!!!!!!!

HOLY SHIT

YOU GO GIRL!!!!

VRISKA: Now I get why talking to all my friends finally led up to you. VRISKA: Y8u're the reason why I could never trust any8ody! VRISKA: Even h8r!!!!!!!! Especi8lly her.

Nooooo Terezi thoughts!!! 😭 I mean I LOVE that she's finally putting it together but it's also SO SAD OMG

This is the pain she needed to face.

And now she's even rolling it into following in the footsteps of the Marquise being wrong.

She taught her descendant so much, and in such lurid detail. VRISKA: It was 80% smut!!!!!!!!

LOLOLOL

Yeah, just as you're saying now Vriska: Mindfang's example helped keep you alive, made you a "wicked pir8", but also made everyone else hate you. :C

VRISKA: I could have 8een any8ody... and you took that aw8y from me. You made me afraid of it.

I'd insert another very appropriate sob emoji here but I'm afraid of overusing it. I'm so glad Vriska is coming to terms with all this, FINALLY, after two years of trying to confront her mothers' ghosts.

--Of course Momfang says she thinks she would be an idiot to trust anyone. She was passing along her own toxic mentality.

And Vriska says she doesn't want to think like that anymore.

"TRAPPED."

Vriska regretting not killing her lusus, saving herself from what she became, before it was too late.... christ that's heavy.....

8ut even as she said it, the Thief knew that was never an option. Emancip8tion couldn't 8e granted to either party, only mutually assured destruction. VRISKA: ........ VRISKA: I wish it had 8een different. Impossible. VRISKA: I wish I was 8orn some8ody else.

Oh honey!!! 😭😭😭

Another dead end.

STFU

Vriska deservedly blowing up and yelling at her to let her get out from under her, be her own fucking person for once...

What will you do?

Oh boy... the PROMPT appears again for the first time in this branch. What will you do. Do what you will.

I wonder... perhaps this time you can run from her. Live without her. Seek... some sort of sanctuary, like the one your friends could have given you. What if you had gone to live in Terezi's treehouse and just, never, ever come home again? Her sleeping lusus wouldn't have eaten you, and you'd have been just as protected as Terezi was. What will you do, Vriska? What will you do here and now?

VRISKA: Huh. "KILL." VRISKA: You know, every week I come in here trying to figure out what more you could possi8ly want from me, and every week it's the same shit. VRISKA: I really am suuuuuuuuch a moron. "FEED." VRISKA: Exactly. It was never any deeper than that, the answer was right in front of my face. VRISKA: Well. I'm not your free ticket anymore. M8tricide then?

No, she's just going to walk away. She doesn't need to CONFRONT her mother... she just needs to MOVE ON from her.

VRISKA: Nah. VRISKA: I never really wanted that either. Lest the girl forget, there were only two choices.

Nope. There's always a third option. Tavros's option, the one you used to think too cowardly. You can always simply flee.

VRISKA: 8ut that's not true. I'm not a wiggler anymore. Alternia is dead. VRISKA: For once in my life, I have options. And just what did the ungrateful upstart mean 8y that? VRISKA (that pose from earlier, hands at her hips, grinning and eye shining almost-wet, brilliant.): I'm glad you asked! VRISKA: It means I finally get to walk away from all this. And I'm not going to look 8ack.

YES, YOU GET IT VRISKA! You can finally MOVE ON from her! You can be who you want to be now, you're not trapped anymore!

The spider forgot her hunger, for a moment at least, as the reality of such a statement sunk in.

Whoa, you even gave THEM pause. :D

She was only a spider. She did not fear death, or feel regret, or hold any sadness. She never once loved the girl. She did not feel responsible. That said, the arachnid had grown accustomed to the smaller creature's presence. She extended one long, spindly leg 8efore her, towards the young troll.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 fuck it I'm using as many of these as I want

As if to say, "HUG?"

😭

VRISKA: Oh, a8solutely not. VRISKA: Hell no.

Maybe. But if you held any feelings for her... what would be the harm, one last time? One first time?

That proved a good call, as the spider had 100% planned on eating the girl.

Okay I stand corrected. XD Get the fuck out of here Vriska, now that you finally know you never need to come back!

Instead, the long lim8 was retracted, placed 8etween the monster's own massive jaws.

What?

Crunch noise???

The spider would not notice when the girl turned to leave. And the girl would not turn around to see if she had. The 8ound cover was closed on our trusted narr8tor, as she whispered these final words. "Good luck, Vriska. 8e assured, you will need it."

🥺

And we hear the sound of footsteps, finally walking away.

{Level Complete!}

Lots of Fire motifs in the titles this time, ending in "FUNERAL PYRE". And that long candle... is it burning down a little bit each time? The lonely candle?

Perhaps representative of the trap?

Instead of going back and comparing it, I'll just take the easy route... and wait to compare it to how it looks the next time this game on page 666 updates. C:

Gosh that was so good. We'll leave things here. I'm finally caught up. I could speculate on what the last two that aren't the cueball mean... the feather doesn't make sense to me, and the 8-ball might just need to be BROKEN in order to escape the black Plot Point, metaphorically and/or literally, since Calliope did raise the possibility that the plot point might need to be "destroyed" and this candle of the time she's spending here might itself be burning it away, until she learns she has it in her heart to shine like the SUN and melt away the wax of the candle to nothing... but for once, instead of doing too much speculation on what's about to happen, I'd rather leave it for next time.

We might get to commentary at some point, or Patreon bonus panels, or even some of the Bonus Comics from before I might have missed the last tail ends of... in which case you'll get surprise posts about them from me, most likely. But for the moment, I'll just relax and see y'all again soon. At the minimum: talk to you next upd8! Or likely before then, since it seems these additions to Homestuck^2 might be weeks apart, and I'll likely feel the issue to delve into SOMETHING of the back-commentary before then in case this Mindfang journal update was anytime recent. <3

Note that if you didn't know already, the official homestuck twitter account is letting us know when the Plot Point page is upd8-ed (this last one was August 11th), and you might need to Force Refresh or clear your cache on the page if that Mindfang chapter or whatever new one that comes out later doesn't show up immediately. I'll be putting that twitter account on Notify for certain.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #Homestuck^2 #spoiler #spoilers #Vriska Serket #Nannasprite #Classes and Aspects #Life and Doom #Mindfang

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sophie-looks-at-stuff · 1 year

Text

Some random modern HotD headcanons :)

Hey y’all! So I kept thinking of some funny, and very specific headcanons for the HotD characters, so I decided to just make it a whole post. This will actually be my first “legit” post on here, lol! Anyways, this will include some headcanons about Aemond, Aegon II, Luke, Jace, Daemon, Rhaenyra, Helaena, etc. But hope y’all enjoy lol! :)

Ok, I am convinced that Aemond has a secret stash of tea hidden somewhere. He's even put them all in a very nice ornate, antique box. It's his guilty pleasure. He probably would have some Earl Gray, English Breakfast, maybe even some lavender mint for the evenings. He'd keep it secret because all the teas he's gotten are way too expensive, and special.

Luke is an avid Minecraft gamer. Like he's basically built Dragonstone, and the Red Keep in his server. He'll play sometimes with Jace, or maybe even Aegon. But he doesn't let them into that world. Aegon would probably blow it all up with TnT.

Speaking of gaming, I think some people are on the same page that Aegon would be some kind of gamer. He'd be up to date on all the new systems and gadgets. He'd be one of the firsts to have the PS5 when it came out. He probably plays a lot of Call of Duty. Maybe even some Valorant when he doesn't wanna fire up the PS. He'd definitely be cursing and yelling at the game, to the point where Alicent threatens to take it away.

While Rhaenyra watches her shows, House Wives, Rupaul's Drag Race, etc. Daemon pretends to be not interested, but really he's super invested. He'd be leaning against the couch, or the wall totally sucked in. And when Rhaenyra tells him to just sit down and watch with her, he's all like, "no no I don't even like this show". But then he'd say things like, "Well maybe if her gown was better made she wouldn't have been eliminated last episode".

Aegon gives me frat boy energy. And I know I'm not the first to say that lol. You already know he's planning all the parties, and picking the themes. I like to think he'd be very invested into picking the themes. They would be things like, dragon night, wear your fave dragon scale colors. Or something like, Dragonstone beach night, wear your swim suits and flip flops.

Alicent likes to knit. Or maybe crochet? It's her stress reliever activity after dealing with Aegon, and the rest of the boys. Helaena is always giving her new patterns or designs to try.

I think Alicent also likes to take the occasional Buzzfeed quiz. "If you were a cake flavor, here's what you'd be based on your star sign".

Helaena runs a very successful tik tok account. She'd post her outfits, and maybe some art or cool bugs she's found.

Aegon listens to a lot of Megan Thee Stallion and Kim Petras. He's blasting Kim Petras' Treat me like a Slut at least 5 times a day. He gets ready to it in the morning.

Aemond will get down to some Amy Winehouse.

Jace works at the local animal shelter as his summer job. He only got the job cause Rhaenyra said he needed to get out of the house. Plus Helaena also works there, so she helped him get hired.

Aemond would be a great bartender. Not with like actually interacting with customers, but he can make some great drinks. Like he's over here coming up with all these crazy cocktails. Although, like his tea obsession he keeps this on the low. He doesn't want Aegon asking him to make drinks all the time. Gods forbid he asks Aemond to bartend at one of the frat parties.

Helaena was a Monster High girl growing up.

Aemond has a motorcycle. It was his one rebellious purchase. Alicent hates it.

Luke can kick Aegon's ass in any game, video or otherwise. You name it, Call of Duty, UNO, Valorent, Go fish...

Rhaenyra has a bit of a sweet tooth, but she has to hide her candy stash, cause the boys will steal it in a heartbeat. Who would have thought Daemon would love lemon drops so much.

I really could go on forever, these are just too fun to write. But I'll leave it here for now lol.

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zerobaseone-zhanghao · 8 months

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the coffee shop encounter

t/w: fluff, older!reader & younger!bada, adult!reader & student!bada, sugar mommy!reader & sugar baby!bada

a/n: hi everyone! this story is inspired by @bebeyue with her little sugar mommy!bada series, I love it so much so I decided to flip it.

=====================================

It was your usual routine, you had to get out of your crazy company to work. You’re a young CEO, you own a fashion brand which designs matching outfits, you tend to be popular among dance agencies and entertainment agencies. Usually when your company gets hectic, you take your work to the cute and quiet cafe across the street.

You’re well known by the staff as you’ve become a regular at this cafe, you order the same drink everytime. Recently, you’ve noticed a younger girl come in to the cafe everyday, she wears a school uniform and carries her CSAT study books around with her so you immediately think that she’s a high school student who’s sitting the college entrance exam this year making her 18 years old.

Everyday you watch this girl stress, study and procrastinate. This day began as your usual, you went to the cafe to get some peace and quiet to do your work, you must’ve been there for hours because you heard two girls coming in, laughing with each other.

You peer up to see and it’s that usual high school student who usually looks stressed but looks happy today. Both girls order and sit at the table in front of you with the usual girl sitting so she’s facing you.

As you try to focus on your work, you can hear their giggling, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You smile at their cuteness, this is the first time you’ve seen that girl smile, you think she’s really pretty when she smiles.

You overhear her and her friend discussing college and the entrance exams. “I don’t even know if I want to go to college you know, I want to dance professionally, I don’t need to go to college for that” Bada says unsure of her future.

You just carry on with your day however you have an idea, you want to help this girl, you’ve worked with dance agencies before you know how they go about hiring. A week has gone by and there has been no sight of this girl, you’re about to give up and let her go on with her life (you’re sure she’ll figure it out), she comes into the cafe and orders her usual, sitting a few tables away from you.

She’s still studying for the entrance exams so you assume that she has her heart set on college, however you were about to change her mind.

She’s got her head down, so focused in her books when you walk over to her, you sit across from her, still not gaining the attention of the girl. You see that she’s focused on a particular book so you tap the top of the page causing her to look up to you with a shocked expression. “Umm sorry, can I help you?” she asks politely, “no, but I can help you” she looks confused.

“I overheard you’re conversation with your friend last week about being unsure if you wanted to go to college. Do you still feel that way?” “Yeah I’m still confused” “well let me introduce myself, I’m Y/N and you are?” “Bada” “it’s nice to meet you Bada, you see that building across the street, that’s my company” “YOU’RE company?! But you look so young?!” “how old are you Bada? 18?” “Yeah I’m 18” “I’m 20” “no way, that’s so cool” “I guess, my company works in fashion and I deal with a lot of dance agencies and I can assure you that they take experience over education”.

“An agency would rather take someone who has 4 years of experience, workshops, classes than someone with a degree in dance”, “really?” “Yes, obviously I can’t make your decision for you but I just wanted to give you some advice” “oh and also dance agencies really love someone with global experience on their resume” “but I can’t afford that”.

“That’s where I come in, I make plenty of money to support myself and you, so if you choose to go for global opportunities, I’ll pay for all of it”. “What do you want in return?” Bada asks nervously awaiting the answer “I just want your company, at least one hour a week, I’ll pay you for your company as well, if you go on a trip for global experience then I’ll join you and pay for everything”. “That sounds like a dream honestly”.

You lie a piece of paper in front of her “this is a contract which states the rules of our agreement, since you’re a minor, you can’t sign this alone, so take it home to your parents and talk about it okay? Oh and here’s my business card, it’s got my full name, email and phone number should you or your parents need to get in touch with me okay?” “Yes thank you!”

Bada excitedly goes home to her parents to tell them about this amazing opportunity but will Bada’s parents be accepting of a stranger?

part 2 coming soon!

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #swf2 x reader

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redcoralpot · 9 months

Text

Smudged (5)

Summary: Rodrick lives up to his side of the deal, or should I say, community service.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1K

A/N: Okay, so, this wasn't all that was planned for this chapter. Buttt I felt really rushed and hadn't updated this fic in a little over a month. I'll edit this with the rest of the chapter when I get to it, but for now, it's being put to rest indefinitely. Thank you for the support!

The next day, your best friend arrived in English early, much to your surprise. Daniel tossed a notebook onto your desk, slouching in his seat as if he were a drunk, divorced father. You took it into your hand, reading the messily written label, before looking up at the sorrowful boy in front of you. The pages were filled to the brim with outlines, sketches, and ideas; some pictures were lightly colored in.

“I see you’ve been busy,” you quipped.

Daniel hissed, the bags under his eyes more prominent, “This prompt is crap! I’ve been up all night trying to figure out how to do this.”

“You’re thinking too hard about it, Dan.” You pass it back to him, fingers tapping the wooden desk.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he ranted, “you just have drums!”

“I’d rather have the guitar.”

He rubbed his temples, “Not my point. Can’t you come with me tonight to take pictures?”

“In the forest? Dude, that’s every horror movie plot,” you scoffed, watching other students file in.

They sat in their seats or hopped on desks, with one girl rudely scooting on Daniel’s, “I know, that’s why I want you to come with me. I need photos for the presentation board!”

“I dunno if I can, I’m supposed to be going to Rodrick’s house tonight.”

“Since when did you start hanging out with him?”

“Since the need for a decent grade.”

Ms. Kawiti was the last to stroll inside, setting her bag on the table in the front of the classroom. She cleared her throat, and caused all chatter to cease, including your conversation with Daniel. Your best friend grumbled, turning back around, attempting to dodge the long hair intruding in his personal space. The girl herself reluctantly returned to her own place, sharing a few final giggles with her group. You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed and feet perched underneath your desk on a metal bar. There were other boys around the class doing the same, and you adjusted yourself to make the position more comfortable. Why did time have to go so slow when fun is on the other side?

On just another thing you were better than Rodrick at, you did not break any personal property when parking outside his house. Your shoes clacked against the concrete driveway, purple laces swinging, only stopping to knock on the door. The person who answered was not Rodrick, no, but a much older woman with a professional-looking outfit and brown hair to match. She looked so strikingly different from the drummer you knew that you almost backed away, apologizing for coming to the wrong house. Almost.

“Excuse me, ma’am, is this the Heffley family’s house?”

She seemed taken aback, almost wary as she took in your appearance, “Yes, are you one of Rodrick’s… bandmates?”

“Uh, no, I’m Heather’s brother. He invited me over for research,” you shrugged.

“Rodrick and research?” Mrs. Heffley cocked an eyebrow up, slightly stepping back to allow you inside.

You waved your hands, and said, “I know, absolutely unbelievable! However, I can assure you that I’m telling the truth– he brought home some books.”

“And I read it, duh,” a voice called from above.

Rodrick, the devil, hung his head over the overhead railing. He cocked his head at you, sneering. Mrs. Heffley shook her head, sighed, and walked into a separate room beside you; there wasn’t any attention on her anymore. Rodrick motioned for you to come up the stairs, before disappearing again.

His voice echoed, “C’mon, my room’s the coolest here!”

For a split second, you hesitated. You glanced back to where Mrs. Heffley had disappeared, unsure of whether it was appropriate to leave your shoes on and make a mess of the house. Just to be safe, you set them neatly beside the door, before following the other boy up the stairs.

When you finally arrived, Rodrick had already vanished once again. There were multiple doors running down the hallway, but the only hint as to the correct one was the faint sound of guitar riffs. It almost sounded like it was coming from above you, though you decided to peek into the closest unlocked door. This room wasn’t even a bedroom; it was simply a small bathroom meant for one or two people. There was a bit of a smell inside, like someone hadn't flushed the toilet. Hell, as curious as you were, you weren’t going to confirm that.

You barely could close the door before a finger tapped your shoulder, and you flinched, turning around– it was just Greg. The little boy was Rodrick’s unlucky younger brother, who was at least a head shorter than you. He seemed nicer than your acquaintance, and it really made you wonder how the two of them were raised in the same household. Perhaps Rodrick was adopted? Nah. Greg was studying you with a standoffish look in his eyes, the kind kids get when they meet strange family friends. You weren’t surprised; your looks were far from the typical suburban rich boy.

“His room’s in the attic,” Greg said, plainly, “Last door.”

He scurried off to do his own things, possibly to bug his mother about the newest Nintendo game. There was no last door on the left, only a wall that held an uncharacteristically peaceful family photo. Rodrick was still Rodrick, just younger, with devilish messy hair and dirt under his nails. On the right, however, there was a slightly ominous wooden door. In direct contrast to the opposite wall, the door had a sign that read Rodrick Only. It was so childishly Rodrick that you couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath.

One knock, two knock, three knock. The music coming from above grew ever so slightly quieter, and you could hear heavy footsteps coming down the attic stairs. It opened, only to an unimpressed drummer.

“Dude, aren’t you coming?” He frowned.

You shrugged, pointing to the sign, “I’m not allowed in. It’s Rodrick only, remember?”

Said boy rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh, “You’re the exception.”

“The exception?”

“An exception,” he corrected himself.

You pushed past him, clambering up the stairs, “Whatever you say, dick.”

“Weirdo.”

Rodrick’s room was, to put it nicely, a mess. His bed was undone, random magazines poked out from under his mattress, and you honestly couldn’t tell if the jeans hanging on the railing were dirty or clean. Three, conjoined windows were the only source of natural light, and you swore you could see a spider web hanging off the sill. Posters and grimy t-shirts were plastered all over the walls and ceiling; you doubted any space was left untouched. Rodrick’s drum set sat in the corner, shining like it was brand new.

He was shuffling through a bookshelf behind you, containing almost everything but books themselves, much to your amusement. Rodrick must have seen the quirk of your lips when he managed to pull a thin, perfectly packaged music book from its depths, as his eyes narrowed when he turned to face you.

“This is for the bare basics of drumming, it should cover all that mechanical stuff you have in your outline,” he shrugged.

“You actually read that?”

Rodrick’s gaze flicked towards you, unsure, before his chest puffed up obnoxiously, “Duh, what kinda guy do you take me for?”

…

“I’m not gonna answer that.”

“You’re just too scared to admit that I’m awesome!”

You mumbled, “You’re delusional.”

“Aha! I knew it!”

“If you know so much,” you tapped the cymbal, “give me what I’m here for.”

The

Rodrick groaned, “You’re such a party pooper sometimes.”

“Ironic.”

He swiped the drumsticks from the seat and pointed them at you threateningly, like an annoyed teacher, “Shh.”

Rodrick used the sticks to point out each individual drum part, explaining the noise they make and how he uses them in his band. You scratched your nose while he rambled on, not feeling in the mood to tell him you knew this already. It was only when he started back on the ego talk that your attention drifted to other parts of his room, to all the little details. There was a large poster of a woman holding a dark colored guitar, her hair swept back in a 90’s hairstyle that most definitely wouldn’t be possible without layers upon layers of spray. She had eyeliner smudged across her eyelids, but they had a cleaner edge than Rodrick’s attempts; quite similar to yours. Rodrick was now doing light taps to 4-4 time, nodding his head to the rhythm, eyes closed.

The fan in the opposite corner was making the glossed pages under his mattress flutter and loosen from where they were hidden. If you squinted your eyes, you could just barely make out a part of the photo– were those biceps? If you shuffled a bit to the right, you could pull it out enough that it would flutter out on its own, and that it did. Hell, Rodrick was too busy rocking out on the drums to hear your suspicions being confirmed.

You wouldn’t be surprised if Rodrick had a magazine full of half naked women hanging around somewhere; it was Rodrick, after all. However, one full of shirtless men? That was out of character for the self proclaimed womanizer. For a moment, you thought about telling him that you knew about his stash, but quickly dismissed it. You couldn’t imagine how embarrassing that would be for someone, even an asshole as shameless as him! Besides, who knows how insulated the walls of this house are, right? You bit your tongue, humming along to Rodrick’s music as he made a dramatic finish to the song.

“I was starting to worry I wasn’t keeping your attention there,” he chuckled to himself.

You tilted your head, “I just got lost in the beat, you know how it is.”

“That I do, dude. Was that all you needed?”

“Bingo, you were super useful.”

He grinned, “I’m always helpful! You could literally just ask Gregory his opinion on it, I taught him all about how to survive middle school.”

“The harshest environment, I’m aware.” You stood up.

“Okay,” he sensed the sarcasm in your tone, “you’re banned. Get out.”

“I’m going, I’m going, don’t get your panties in a twist!”

You ran down the stairs, hearing him cackling the whole way down. Rodrick was funny sometimes, you had to give him that. Maybe these next few weeks wouldn’t be so bad, after all.