#like I know we’re exasperated and so much evil has been done
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
faithfromanewperspective · 2 months ago
Text
seeing more and more rampant antisemitism in pro palestine spaces you guys don’t let them force this false polarisation on us. it’s only gonna drive the whole ‘but palestinians want jews to all die’ bullshit they’ve been pushing all along. we need to be correcting that false information vigilantly, and everyone needs to stop before they assume something like that to begin with
6 notes · View notes
midasfantasy · 9 days ago
Text
Sonder & Soul Ties
Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis : every action has its equal opposite reaction. it wasn't your fault society failed you, turning you away at every turn for matters outside of your control. for a world built on fighting evil, people suspiciously had a way of ensuring there would always be more of it. so, you can't really be blamed for ending up surrounded by and helping japan's most wanted criminals. or for wanting them yourself.
content : BNHA villains x fem!reader
chapter warnings : cursing and the worst man known to humanity.
chapter notes : well, well, well. if it’s isn’t the consequences to your actions.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
two, red herring
Tumblr media
“What do I need to do to keep you out of my station?” 
Detective Tsukauchi, who knows you better than anyone at this point thanks to all your investigations, walks into the interrogation room you have been relocated to. He looks just about as exasperated as he had the last twenty times you both ended up in this room, his soul wavering around him like a dreary cloud of blue fog.
“In my defense, the guy approached me first,” You say, straightening in your seat some to bow your head to him in greeting. 
“The guy was one of Japan’s most wanted criminals,” Tsukauchi shoots you a withered look, and frankly you both shouldn’t be speaking so informally considering the context of your situation, but decorum was thrown out the window after the authorities of Japan realized you were probably going to spend the rest of your lives being familiar thanks to your uncanny luck. Or rather lack thereof. “He died protecting you, [S/N]-san. I think it’s safe to say the whole station is a little baffled.”
“I thought you’d be used to this by now,” You grumble, raising a brow at Tsukauchi as he takes a seat in the chair opposite of you. 
“Every time I think I’ve seen the last of you, you end up in an even bigger mess than before. Although I doubt you’ll be able to top this one,” Tsukauchi murmurs to himself, shaking his head. He drags a hand down his face, pulling at his morning shadow that he probably didn’t have time to shave down before being called into the station to deal with this… mess.
“We’re trying to understand what and why everything happened,” He continues, this time with some actual professionalism. Tsukauchi schools his features into his practiced work face, pleasant and encouraging, motioning for you to begin.
“Well, I can tell you I didn’t mean to be there,” You slouch into your metal chair, glowering when you hear Tsukauchi mutter an incredulous, almost amused, ‘she didn’t mean to be there’ as he marks down your testimony onto a notepad. “I didn’t even know what day of the week it was if I’m being completely transparent.” 
Tsukauchi thankfully does not comment on that last part. “And you had no connections to the Hero Killer prior to the attack?”
“No. Contrary to popular belief, I associate with only the highest morals,” You tut, crossing your legs and twiddling with your thumbs.
He raises a brow that you know means he smells bullshit, but you are not going to elaborate on it. He doesn’t need to know you have no friends.
“I’m glad, you’ll need a good support system after what happened to you,” Tsukauchi says instead, fidgeting with his pen. His soul fluctuates, solidifying around him more as he settles his resolve. “Although, and I’m sure I don’t have to say it, you do always have everyone here to keep an eye on you. All you have to do is ask.”
You uncross your legs and sink deep into your chair, sighing dramatically. “I know, Tsukauchi. Thank you, I’m sure the second we’re done here I’ll be getting the earful of my life for nearly getting killed.” 
“I’m inclined to give you an earful myself,” Tsukauchi sets down his notepad and pen down, his face suddenly much more hard-set. “The Hero Killer made a sudden appearance, and an even more sudden departure. But the Nomus began attacking well before the heroes even knew he was there. Evacuation procedures had already began, it’s inconceivable that you didn’t even hear—“
Tsukauchi cuts himself off, swallowing thickly before rubbing at the heavy bags beneath his eyes. “I’m sorry, [S/N]-san. There are so many people who care about you, myself included. Getting the call to come in and the debriefing on what happened was awful. No one here wants to see you… die, and certainly not in a way that could have been prevented.” 
“I’m sorry,” You murmur, voice small. You’ve almost completely disappeared into your chair, your arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to appear smaller. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I… it’s stupid, I want to promise this won’t happen again, but I can’t even say that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry you all keep getting dragged into it.”
“[S/N], please don’t speak like that,” Tsukauchi looks remorseful as he leans over the table, laying his hands out palm-up to you. You sniffle, but untangle the ball of nerves you’ve become to let him hold your hands. “There is nothing wrong with you, and you know every person here who would jump at the chance to help you with whatever you’re struggling with.” 
“But I’ve caused so much trouble,” You mumble weakly, your shoulders shaking as he squeezes your hands, listening closely. ”How do you all not get tired of me?”
“You’re young, you’ve had enough terrible experiences to last you a lifetime. How you manage school, work, and everything the world throws at you is beyond me,” Tsukauchi says, smiling warmly. “It’s why we know you’re going to go so far. There won’t be anything that can stop you. We’re going to get you through this, okay?”
It feels like an impossible task trying not to cry again, you normally do good at keeping everything in check, but the last 24-hours have left you unbearably vulnerable. Your throat is thick with emotion as you speak, “Okay.”
“Do you feel up to continuing questioning?” Tsukauchi implores gently, thumbs rubbing at the tops of your hands. You nod quickly, pulling away and straightening in your seat like a decent human being. 
“Yeah, I guess I should just come out and say I don’t really remember much. I was… really drunk,” You do not make eye contact as you speak, folding your fingers in your lap and taking a deep breath. “It’s mostly small moments, like flashes.”
“We can work with that. Tell me what you see in these flashes,” Tsukauchi picks up his pen and notepad again, his eyes kind when you finally brave a glance up at him.
“Well,” You start, clearing your throat, “I remember the… creature, it lifted me off the ground. Oh— I remember it had talons too, and a lot of exposed organs.”
“I’m assuming you mean the Nomu?” Tsukauchi ventures, writing something down. When you don’t answer, he looks back up at you.
“What’s a Nomu?”
“…Seriously?”
“Is uh… is it like an invasive species?” You ask, feeling more stupid by the minute, Tsukauchi’s deadpan humbling your already wounded ego. “I don’t watch the news, just tell me what it is and stop being judgmental!”
“You don’t watch the news?” Tsukauchi asks incredulously. He looks distressed and upset all over again, eyebrows waning downwards as his eyes widen with horror. You make a panicked expression before shrugging and laughing nervously. “So—wait- when you called him ‘That Guy’, you seriously have no idea who the Hero Killer is? And you don’t know about the USJ attack?”
“No?” You blink, jumping in your seat when Tsukauchi slaps his forehead and murmurs to himself. “Is this, like, really bad?”
“Super bad,” Tsukauchi sighs, rubbing his temples. He then proceeds to launch into a detailed explanation of who Stain and the League of Villains is. He also explains what he knows about the Nomu, but no matter what he says you do not feel any better about its existence. 
You also don’t feel any better about killing Stain, but it does comfort you some that he’s no longer able to hurt people.
“And that’s why I’m the one interrogating you. I’m the one in charge of the League’s case and because the Nomu targeted you, I’m trying to gather more information on why. Anything we can get to understand the League better, will bring us closer to defeating them,” Tsukauchi finishes his explanation, running a hand through his hair wearily. 
“That makes more sense now, I was wondering why they made you come all the way here in the middle of the night when someone else could’ve run the procedure,” You hum thoughtfully, messing with your shoes under the table as you shift in your seat. “I thought you just cared a lot, but I guess that’s not the case…”
“[S/N],” Tsukauchi says, and you can see the metaphorical gray hairs you’re giving him.
“Joking!” You laugh, kicking his shin playfully under the table. 
“Well, I don’t think there’s much more I can ask,” Tsukauchi shakes his head with a huff, stepping on one of your toes and chuckling when you yelp. “It sounds like your luck just got the better of you again.”
“So… we’re done?” You ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“We’re done,” Tsukauchi confirms with a pleasant smile, laughing when you jump from your seat to cheer and stretch. 
“God I’m so tired, and I’m soooooo behind on assignments. I guess I have an excuse for being late now though?” You begin chatting to yourself, not catching the way Tsukauchi checks his watch and pales. 
“Speaking of late— we’re way behind schedule. The Chief wants to see you, why don’t you go find him?” Tsukauchi ushers you from the room, ignoring your confusion as he grabs his coat and rushes about.
“Uhm, okay. Do you…” You start to ask, watching Tsukauchi place his hat on and adjust his buttons, already beginning to walk away. “Tsukauchi?”
“Hm?” Said man pauses, looking over his shoulder at you from half way down the hall. He really is in a hurry, what could be so important?
“Do you have to leave so soon?” You ask, taking a few steps closer and giving your best puppy-dog face. You probably look crazy, considering you’ve got tear stains, scratches, and blood shot eyes. 
“I’m sorry, [S/N]. There are a few others I need to investigate, and you kno—“
You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in his shoulder and sighing as loud as you possibly can. He’s still for a moment, but eventually he melts, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your back softly. It’s not often you get to touch people, or their souls. But when you make contact with Tsukauchi’s deep blue soul, you pull it against yourself tight, focusing every happy warm feeling you can into it. Your silent apology for all the headaches you know you’ve caused him.
“Is it really so hard to ask for the things you need, troublemaker?” Tsukauchi teases, poking your side and chuckling as you struggle in his grasp with a few curses about him being a traitor.
“No, I’m perfect. Nothing is difficult for me,” You insist, finally managing to pull away, just narrowly missing him trying to ruffle your hair.
“I wonder why you did not call when you ran into danger yesterday then,” A new voice speaks, and you immediately turn to salute, recognizing their gruff voice instantly.
Tsuragamae gives the worst tiniest amused huff at your display, which is a victory in itself, because you know he’s most definitely pissed at you. You are not excited to get a lecture from the Chief of the Hosu police station. 
“I will be driving you home,” Tsuragamae informs you, his snout twitching as he sniffs the air. “Leave Tsukauchi-San to go, he has important business to attend to.”
You glance between the two men, blinking a few times as you try to figure out whatever silent conversation they’re having in front of you. They’re exchanging intense eye contact, and then, in the creepiest way possible, they nod at the same time before walking in opposite directions. 
“I— hey-“ You sputter, unable to process what just happened. Tsukauchi is on route to exit at the back of the station, going who knows where; and Tsuragamae is walking towards the front, probably to fetch his car for the ride back to your shitty apartment. 
“Gosh you two are impossible— Bye-bye Tsuka!” You call, jumping twice in the air and waving dramatically like he’s off to war and using a nickname just to be a dick. Spinning on your heel, you jog after the Chief, knowing you can’t really afford to keep him waiting when he’s already in a bad mood. “Tsuragamae, wait up, you’ve got long legs—“
You pause at the lobby, slapping your hands over your eyes and groaning. “It’s so bright, did you guys finally replace the LEDs?”
“…No, I was not aware they needed to be replaced,” Tsuragamae says, but you're too busy blinking open your eyes and squinting at the windows to care.
“It's already morning?!” You gasp, running through the front doors ahead of Tsuragamae, getting outside and squinting at the sun remorsefully.
“It is nearly the afternoon,” Tsuragamae says, walking up behind you and knocking the back of your head gently to get you to stop your staring. “Which means we need to hurry along. I am a busy man, I have got places to be.”
“Don’t patronize me,” You grumble, following after him and sliding into the back seat of his ridiculously nice car. 
He won’t trick you with his textbook psychology, you’ll put as much distance between you both before he can start an argument you have no chance of winning anyway. 
Tsuragamae’s forest green soul is tense, that much you are certain of. But Tsuragamae always has a stick up his ass, so it’s kind of difficult to get a read on where the tension is coming from. You want to think it’s because a person died after being taken into custody, but you’re pretty sure Endeavor is going to take the heat of that blow. The alternative is that he’s going to go full parental-mode and scold you within an inch of your life. 
You really hope it’s the former. 
.
.
.
The first few minutes of driving are so dreadfully quiet that you know for sure it’s the latter. 
You’re not exactly a chatterbox per se, especially not with Tsuragamae, but you know how to hold a conversation. In contrast, pleasantries are not Tsuragamae’s strong suit. He has a level head in all case scenarios, and can rationalize virtually anything, all while constantly staying at a fact-based standpoint. This depersonalizing can make him insensitive at times though.
That's why you know he’s waiting for you to start the conversation, or maybe ask him what exactly he wants. He doesn’t want to feel like a jerk for getting straight to the point, even though it's obviously the only thing on his mind right now. Men.
“Do you want to explain yourself or did you get enough of an interrogation from Tsukauchi-san?” Tsuragamae asks, finally breaking your stalemate. He had nearly five whole minutes and still managed to find the most offensive way to open the conversation, charming. 
“I’m not sure what I can say to get out of trouble with you,” You reply after another minute of silence, biting at your lip and staring intently out the window. “I had no idea it was so dangerous to be in Hosu right now, if I had been aware, I would’ve never left the house.”
“You own a phone, do you not?” Tsuragamae prods, sounding a little too condescending for your tastes.
“I do, but I’m not addicted. I mostly watch it for YoTube tutorials or music. I don’t watch the news,” You say, doing what you think is a fantastic job at keeping the annoyance from your tone. 
This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Tsuragamae’s soul literally spikes with frustration. You gulp and hold onto your seatbelt a little tighter, preparing for the worst. 
“What do you mean you ‘don’t watch the news’?” Tsuragamae is just full of questions today it seems, because where you were expecting an outburst, he just sounds mildly miffed. 
“The news is full of propaganda, I can’t be wasting my young impressionable mind away staring at a screen that wants me to submit to capitalism,” You respond cattily, basically asking for an argument. Yolo.
There is no argument though. Only more silence. It sets you on edge, because Tsuragamae always has an answer, even when he doesn’t want to. 
“Endeavor says he saw you near where the Nomus were attacking,” Tsuragamae says plainly after the fourth minute of silence, catching your eyes in the rear view mirror with a glare that lets you know you’re in trouble. It tells you he knows you weren’t there by accident. It tells you he doesn’t believe you. 
You decide at that moment you hate Endeavor, What a snitch. 
“…I was trying to find paramedics,” You lie anyway, breaking eye contact in favor of staring out the window again. You’re willing to die on this hill even if it means defaming Endeavor and cursing his whole bloodline just to convince Tsuragamae of your innocence. In fact, you’re in such a bad mood you might just get home and block him on Twitter. 
“Oh? Did you get injured before being attacked by the Nomu?” Tsuragamae asks, one of his ears flicking. He's using his no-nonsense tone now, and it successfully makes you feel scolded, even though he hasn’t truly started laying into you yet. 
“No. There was… a kitten. I found it in the rubble,” You say, knowing you probably sound every bit like the liar you are. There was a kitten, but Crowly certainly wasn’t injured. Crowly was also a traitor, because Crowly abandoned you in your hour of need. “It reminded me of Tamakawa, I couldn’t just leave it.” 
“And so you went towards the chaos, searching for help. Right. And I am supposed to believe this and let you off with a slap on the wrist?” Tsuragamae’s voice is more steeled now, and it’s the first time since before your grandmother passed that you feel like a child getting scolded again. “Forgive me, child, but I think there needs to be appropriate consequences for ignoring public law and deliberately putting yourself in harm's way. Putting others in harm's way.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” You grit your teeth, blinking your eyes rapidly. The feeling is different than from when Tsukauchi was lecturing you. You know that Tsuragamae is coming from the same place, but the way he goes about getting his point across can be uncomfortable, if not downright upsetting. “I can’t keep having this conversation. I don’t throw myself into situations like this willingly, all I have control over is what I do after.”
“You don’t watch the news, you go out alone at night without letting anyone know, and now you’re dragging your feet when asked to take responsibility for your actions,” Tsuragamae scolds, his voice gruff. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that he is just worried for you, and that reprimanding you is just his way of showing it.
“I’m not a child,” You say slowly, your frustration mounting. “I appreciate everything the police force has done for me, I know I would be a lot worse off without you all. I do care.”
“You do not act like it,” Tsuragamae barks back, and it’s your last straw.
“I invited you all to my high school graduation, I celebrate my birthdays with you, I call just to talk about my day and ask you to name the cats outside my apartment,” You’re ranting now, voice raising in pitch and volume. It’s no better than what Tsuragamae is doing to you, taking out his frustration, but damnit weren’t you the one who almost died? “I do half my homework in someone’s office or the lobby, I don’t go anywhere for the holidays because I’d rather be with everyone—“
Your nails are digging so deep into your palms you can feel as they break the skin. You know it’s a low blow even before it leaves your mouth, but you’re so exhausted from the last twenty-four hours that you can’t help yourself. “Wasn’t everyone there when my grandmother died?”
The silence that follows is as long as it is painful, because you aren’t sure if you’ve crossed a boundary, and Tsuragamae’s lack of a response somehow feels like more of an answer than any insult he could shoot at you right now. He has to know that it’s killing you, it’s why he’s been doing it this whole car ride, torturing you with the possibilities. 
“I am sorry, I did not mean to lose my temper on you, child,” Tsuragamae finally replies, but he sounds defeated. Even his soul slumps, which is so utterly peculiar for him, it’s like seeing a white flamingo. It takes all the wind from your sails, and you deflate, not even realizing how tense you had gotten. 
“I’m sorry too, I know you guys are just worried about me. If I want you to stop treating me like a child, I should stop giving you reasons to worry,” You say with a mighty sigh, hanging your head and resting it against the back of his seat. 
“Well, that would certainly help,” Tsuragamae agrees, tone softer than before. Knowing that he isn’t angry at you lifts all the remaining weight from your shoulders. 
It isn’t long before he’s pulling to the side of the road and parking his car in front of your building. It must look strange to your neighbors, having the chief of police as your personal chauffeur. Considering all the weird shit you get up to, it probably isn’t all that surprising though.
“I will walk you to your door,” Tsuragamae says, already unbuckling. 
You freeze, panic setting in as you try to come up with an excuse. That eviction notice is still hanging on your front door. “Uhm! Maybe not— I uh- probably have guests!”
Tsuragamae pauses, giving you a pointed stare. 
“Spot and Harley are probably outside, they uhm— they might get scared?” You venture, knowing damn well the cats Spot and Harley like Tsuragamae worlds more than you. 
“If you would rather spend the time alone, I understand,” Tsuragamae replies, putting his seatbelt back on. You sigh quietly with relief, and open your car door, stepping out and bending at the waist to give him one last wave goodbye.
“I’ll see you soon, old man,” You say brightly, your most charming smile on as you wave enthusiastically before slamming the door and scream laughing in your dash away from his car.
“I had better not!” Tsuragamae shouts as he rolls down his window, a few more warnings mixed in as you giggle your way up the steps of your apartment. 
When you turn the corner to walk down the corridor to your apartment, you find that suspiciously enough, there are no guests. 
‘That's odd.’
You reach your door, and find it’s already a crack open. It sets off your alarm bells, but by nature you’re a curious person, so instead of running down to wave Tsuragamae back to help you investigate, you push open your door like every main character in a horror movie. 
Inside, sitting on your bed, is a man in his late fifties. He's got on the most ancient pair of glasses to survive the 13th century, a vibrant purple suit that has definitely seen better days, and a scarf. In May. 
His soul is a terrible green color, nothing at all like Tsuragamae’s. It’s foul and yellow tinted, and it reminds of how a leaf yellows when it dies. It sags and pools near his feet, sliming around him. You follow the movement with your eyes, distress mounting. 
“Dude, you didn’t even take off your shoes,” You say with horror, looking down at the footprints he tracked over your carpet. 
“You’ll have to forgive my rudeness,” The absolute monster who soiled your cozy home (jail cell), says, looking at you with growing interest. “I’m here to ask you about your future.”
“I don’t need help finding God,” You fume, snapping your fingers and pointing to the door, which is still standing open. “You can take your proselytization and knock off Prada pumps to the public service building down the street. I don’t do charity work.”
“I’m not a preacher,” The man says, still sitting on your bed, and still pressing his musty shoes into your carpet. His soul jumps with vexation, but you're certain that you're angrier than he is at this moment. “I want to know what you’ll do now that Stain is gone.”
“Hopefully my lab report. I’m a day late,” You sass, stomping closer to him, knowing full well you would lose in a fight if things escalated. “If that’s all, can you fuck off?”
“Kicking me out already? You haven’t even heard me out,” He says, looking up at you through his ugly ass glasses with a smile that’s more gums than teeth. 
“You know what, I'm just gonna call the police,” You say, taking out your phone and swiping to the call app, already dialing Tsuragame’s personal number. You make sure he can see you doing it too, because you are a bitch who’s always ready to be called on her bluff. 
“Wait—!”
‘That's more like it.’
“Oh? Don’t want me to?” You ask innocently, pressing each number with added theatrics. “You know how to make it stop.”
He does in fact know how to make it stop, because he grabs your wrist and snatches your phone from you. You were fully expecting him to leave your house, and you aren’t entirely sure why someone who broke in would do the morally right thing. Maybe Tsuragame has a point about the whole reckless thing. 
“Stupid girl, do you not hear me? I’m trying to give you an opportunity,” He seethes in your face, squeezing your wrist. His breath smells like smoke, forcing you to wrinkle your nose and crane your head away from him just to make it clear you think he stinks. 
“And are you not hearing me? I don’t want an opportunity from someone who broke into my house and can’t take no for an answer,” You spit back, struggling to yank your wrist away, swinging your foot out to knock his shin. Neither attempts work, as he is both stronger and quicker than you. 
“Your door was unlocked, I wouldn't call that breaking in,” He argued, throwing you full force at your mattress to face plant into the comforter. You roll over and push yourself up again as quickly as you can, only to freeze as you come face to face with him hovering inches away from you, glaring behind his lenses. “I’m trying to reconnect you with Stain’s colleagues. Get you some friends when you’re clearly down on your luck, if you truly want me to leave you alone while the whole world scrambles to find you, I will.” 
“What…” You stare back at him, wondering if you're still hungover and just misunderstood. “What do you mean the whole world is scrambling to find me.”
The old man doesn’t answer you, instead he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, clicking at the screen before turning it to you to display a video. He presses play and you cast him a curious glance. “You wanted to know.”
The video plays, and it details Stains life. It’s clearly propaganda, and you can feel your patience waning. Just as you're about to slap his phone from his hand and demand your own back, a clip of Stain raving begins to roll. What you failed to realize last night thanks to how wasted you were, is that Stain is absolutely captivating. Not in an attractive, charming way, but in a way that makes you sit and listen because his determination just pulls you right in. 
So you sit, and you listen. It’s a miracle you managed to completely miss this speech last night, because it’s absolutely terrifying. But it captures your attention, and you get so sucked in that you forget what you're supposed to be looking for until Giran pauses the video just before it ends. He forces the phone closer into your face, and that’s when you see it. There, just behind Stain, is your fallen figure.
It’s just your luck that both the Nomu and the green-boy were out of the shot, but you remain just enough in frame to vaguely decipher your features. You glance down at the view count and blanche at the number, feeling horror strike you further when you spot just how short it’s been up for. 
“You’re in the frame for less than two seconds and yet you’re the star of the show. Nearly every comment is about you, who you are, where you are, and what your connection to Stain is,” Giran pulls his phone away from you to look at the screen himself, opening the comment section and scrolling through them. “Strangely enough, no one seems to think you’re innocent. Looking at you now, I’d have never guessed you were capable of killing 46 people.”
“I was proven innocent in court for those deaths,” You say defensively, your heart rate picking up with every second. From the angle you’re at, you can’t see what the comments are saying, but you can imagine how obsessive they are. Fans of serial killers are the worst type of people. 
“And isn’t that something?” Giran says more than he really asks, like he’s making a point. He sounds so sure of himself. Certain that you killed those people. You wonder if that’s what everyone thinks. If they think you killed every person you helped move onto the next world so they wouldn’t be alone.
What if the whole world thinks you killed your grandmother?
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears now, the rushing of your blood growing until there is nothing but a dull ringing echoing in your mind and your body trembles. Did Tsukauchi and Tsuragamae know about this? Why wouldn’t they bring it up? Why wouldn’t they warn you? 
Swallowing the fear that’s paralyzed you is nearly an impossible task. Your stomach feels like it’s dropped to the bottom of the Earth, and your anxiety has nowhere to go. Giran’s mouth is moving with words, but you can’t hear him over the damn ringing in your ears. His ugly face isn’t helping you calm down at all. 
You really wish you had your phone so you could call someone to help. You really really wish you could check to see what people are saying about you. You really really really wish the world would just stop for a minute so you could calm down. 
How can you be in your own home, in your own bed, and feel so out of place? Out of body? Maybe you do need therapy, or god or whatever. It’s getting difficult to see on top of losing your sense of hearing, and you know it’ll only be a matter of time before you black out. But how can you black out when apparently a bunch of killer fans are hunting you down? You aren’t safe. You aren’t safe— You aren’t-
Just as it feels like there will be no salvation from your mind, a wave of calm washes over you.
It’s so sudden and dramatic that you actually sway in your spot, feeling light headed. The blindspots in your vision get worse for a few seconds even as you regain control over your body, blinking deliriously. You’re so wildly confused by it that you just pat at your forehead until you’re staring at the gross guy hovering over you.
The calm fades, leaving you empty and deeply confused, but at least your hearing has returned. 
“…it’s funny though, they were there too yet all anyone can talk about is you and Stain. Be sure not to lay the ideology on too thick when you meet ‘em,” Giran’s words are finally louder than the ringing. He must really like the sound of his own voice to be talking for so long with no answer from you. He's still going through the comments on that stupid video. “The boss isn’t too fond of the Hero Killers ideology.”
“You talk too much,” You grumble, bringing a hand up to rub at your temples. 
“You can call me Giran,” The man says, almost curiously as he pockets his phone with a grin just as slimy as his soul. 
“…I’m [S/N],” You return slowly, still feeling like someone’s just dropped a bombshell on you. 
“I know,” Giran says smuggly, finally taking his phone from your face and leaning away. “I want to help you, [S/N].”
“You can start by taking your shoes off,” You reply, standing from your bed and huffing, but all the fire has left your words. You’re biting at your lips, pulling at the dead skin you get caught between your teeth as you stare between Giran and his phone. 
“Outside it is then,” Giran turns, finally walking out your door and into the hallway. He summons a lighter and cigarette from literal thin air, and lights it up, taking a drag before you can even reprimand him for it. 
“How exactly are you going to help me?” You ask, following after him. 
“Every villain in Japan is feeling motivated by Stain’s little going away speech. But he’s not here to follow up on any of that talking he did, so a lot of people have this overwhelming motivation to do something about it,” Giran explains, smoke leaving his lips and stinking up your entryway. “Not everyone can be a lone-wolf like Stain though. So they’re looking for a new leader.” 
“And what, they think that’s me?” You ask dubiously, squinting your eyes at him and waving a hand in front of your face to try and prevent yourself from breathing in any ash. 
“You aren’t much of a leader,” Giran remarks, looking you up and down. “Though, neither was Stain. Not sure how you managed to get close with the guy.”
“Uhm yeah,” Is your intelligent response, because telling Giran you were not close to Stain seems like a stupid idea.
“It’s too bad he’s going to Tartarus. But I guess it makes sense. With all the public craze, I wouldn’t put it past someone to try and break him out. At least there, he’ll be locked up for sure,” Giran takes another drag, flicking some soot onto your welcome mat and rubbing it in with the toe of his shoe.
Thankfully for him, you’re too preoccupied with what he said to flay him for it. “In Tartarus? Is that… what the news said?”
“Yeah, Endeavor made a public announcement and everything. Figures a guy like him would end up being the one to capture the Hero Killer,” Giran shrugs, then sends you a curious glance over the top of his rims. “Did you not know?”
“Uh—“ You stumble, realizing you came dangerously close to releasing apparently top secret information to someone who definitely shouldn’t know about it. “No, I just got out of investigation. I was at the station all day, and night. I haven’t gotten a chance to check the news.”
‘Why didn’t anyone say anything? Why are they keeping his death a secret?’
“They investigated you?” Giran asks, with a sudden wave of suspicion. His nasty slime soul spikes with thinly concealed threat, and you force your strongest poker face. 
“And they found me innocent of any crimes, just figured I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” You say smoothly, making direct eye contact with Giran as you do. He hesitates for a moment before relaxing, going back for another smoke, soul evening. You aren’t much of a liar, you never have. Thankfully, half truths and leaving out important information suits you just fine.
“You’re lucky, not sure how you managed that with all those lie hound-dogs they’ve got, but maybe you aren’t as useless as you seem,” Giran concedes, dropping his cigarette and stomping on it twice before turning away from you. “Good to know, I’ll be in contact, [S\N].”
“Huh? Wait, you— you’re leaving? Now?” You stammer, panic seizing you. You still have so many questions. What about helping you? What about the opportunity? What are you supposed to do with everything you’ve learned?
“Send me a text when you make up your mind, I put my contact in your phone,” Giran tosses your phone at you (which you totally didn’t forget he had), and you dance around to try and catch it, sighing with relief when you manage to get all ten fingers around it. 
And then he’s gone, only the smoke of his cigarette at your feet still burning. You check your phone screen to see that he had in fact left a contact on your phone, but it only had the text message function available, the phone call button grayed out. 
Just below, in the notes section, he’s written “The job will pay well, don’t miss out.” You laugh at the absurdity, and also a little at his audacity, but mostly you laugh because this is the first job offer you’ve ever gotten in your whole 20 years of living. And you don’t even know what the job is. 
’What a dick. I should kill that guy.’
➢ . . . . .
Giran is a fucking liar.
If you didn’t hate him before, you certainly do now. “I’ll contact you soon”, quickly became two weeks of waiting for him to reach out. When you’d sent him a text, he didn’t even bother answering, the asshole just left you on read.
It ends up being the most stressful two weeks of your life. Your homework managed to pile up after a single night of absence, and your recent slump hasn’t made it any easier to catch up. 
And by slump, you mean late-night internet diving about any information you can find on yourself. 
You know it’s stupid, but it’s so tempting, and the anxiety of not knowing what’s coming keeps you up at night anyway. Your logic was to get it out of your system in one go, just to relieve your anxiety and get back to your norm.
And then relieving the anxiety became scrolling on Reddit for hours under Stain forums. And Yotube. And TigTog. And Twitter, which you’d managed to block Endeavor on. You’ll never forgive him for ratting you out. 
From what it seems. No one knows where you live. It’s at least not public information, which you have the police department to thank for. They keep your documents under tight restriction thanks to how many people already hated you for your “accidental” appearances at their loved one’s passing. 
How Giran found you in under 24-hours is beyond you, but he’s clearly a man who has connections, and he’s been the only one. It isn’t much of a comfort, but you’re safe for now, so all you can do is hope.
Matter of fact, the only thing anyone seems interested in talking about you is your involvement with death. It’s like they don’t really care about you, they just care about how your mind works, and how you managed to ‘get away with murder so many times’. 
It’s dehumanizing, and awful to read, but it’s also deeply addictive. You couldn’t admit you had a problem until the tenth day, when the first thing you did when you woke up was reach for your phone to check if there had been any new posts about you (there had). Checking your phone first thing when you wake up was so unlike you that you just gave up and deleted most, if not all your apps to try and cut the problem off at the root. 
The worst part of it all is that you feel as though you can’t talk to anyone about it. You have the station, but you aren’t sure how much you trust them right now. Stain is dead, and yet the whole world knows a different story. As far as they’re concerned, you don’t know that the dark side of the internet is making you out to be some princess of darkness, a harbinger of reckoning. You literally just told both Tsukauchi and Tsuragamae that you don’t watch the news, and they know damn well you don’t talk to anyone outside of your close knit circle at the police department. 
You don’t want them finding out about Giran, because then they’d know you’re getting evicted, and that would really suck. You also don’t know how you’re supposed to justify not immediately calling the police when you found a stranger in your home. Yeah, too many lectures. You’ll deal with internet-anxiety. 
You’ve got, at best, a week and a half before you’re effectively homeless. That isn’t Giran’s fault, nor should you reasonably be placing all your bets on him getting you a job (because seriously, who the fuck trusts a guy like that), but you’re anxious and out of options. 
When he does finally message you back, it’s one short text with the most cryptic description of a meetup spot you’ve ever seen. You genuinely stare and scratch your head at it for five minutes before going to sleep and deciding it’s a tomorrow-you problem, like you usually do.
Tomorrow-you suffers greatly for the consequences of her actions though, because you remain just as stumped about what the hell you’re supposed to be doing, where you’re going, and if you should be telling someone. 
Giran doesn’t tell you what type of job it is, so you don’t bring anything with you. If he wanted you to, tough shit, he should’ve been more specific. You set out on foot to the random ass part of town Giran mentioned and figure that you’ll just have to check everywhere until you find him. Then, in all your mighty wisdom, you don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Again. 
‘What they don’t know can’t hurt them.’
Finding the location Giran gave you was ridiculously difficult, much more than it probably should have been. You’re well aware you’ll need your wits about you, and that these types of dealings are typical for whatever mess you’re about to land yourself in, but for fucks sake street-smarts have never been your thing. 
The only thing you’ve learned from ending up in a detective’s office every other weekend is that you have the survival instincts of a dodo bird. 
When you do finally make it to the sketchy building Giran had vaguely (very vaguely) described over text, you take a moment to consider your options with your hands on your hips. This was probably your last chance to turn back and keep your innocence. You might not be shrewd, but you were aware enough to recognize that whatever ‘job’ Giran had for you, probably wouldn’t be entirely legal. Not when he asked you to meet in a building like this. 
Whatever. It doesn’t matter what he’s got planned, there can’t possibly be a bigger crime than that ugly ass scarf and purple suit coat combo. You’ll be fine.
Shrugging, you make your way through one of the doorless entrances and into the building, careful not to step on any broken glass shards. The inside is just as abandoned and sad looking as the outside, but the air is remarkably more stale. If you breathed deep enough, you could catch the faint trace of something dying. 
There’s not much of anything around besides bugs and weeds. This place isn’t just abandoned, it’s straight up deserted, reclaimed by nature. You’re sure if you weren’t specifically avoiding checking, you would find several spiders in any available corner or dark hole. 
The only real sign of human occupation is the faint sound of voices somewhere deeper in the building. It takes you a bit of wandering to figure out exactly which direction they are coming from though, because your senses are dogwater. 
When you do, you’re careful to walk quietly, tiptoeing as slowly as possible because realistically you have the stealth skills of a seagull. The voices get louder, and you can make out the familiar grimey tone of Giran among them.
There’s a door that’s mostly closed, with more light than any other room peeking out from under the gap. You’re certain it’s the right room, and you think yourself clever as you lean against the wall next to it. You have every intention to be the gossipy-eavesdropping-bitch you were always destined to be, but freeze when the talking stops and one of the voices speaks much louder than before. 
“You can stop being shy and come in now,” The voice from the other side of the door commands. Damnit, busted.
Pushing away from the wall, you move to stand in front of your entryway to hell instead. You try to peek at the crack between the doorframe to figure out if you can see who is inside, and if you really want this. If there’s hookers on the other side of this door, you’re gonna run for the hills and move to a tiny island in the middle of the sea. 
You cringe as you push the door open more with your foot, its hinges scream out impossibly loud. Inside, are three figures, who all turn to look at you.
Giran, who’s green soul flickers with interest as he spots you. An admittedly very cute looking girl with twin blonde buns on either side of her head and a soul of such a pale red color it looks pink. Finally, a man with large patches of burn scars and piercings lining every inch of his skin, who has the most pained purple soul you’ve ever laid eyes on. 
“Ah, there she is. Meet Stain’s apprentice.”
17 notes · View notes
quarter-life-crisis2 · 2 years ago
Text
Oh gosh it ended so quickly I was ready for more with the mum. This is exactly how I hoped it was gonna go 😎 so yes in a lot less trouble
Here’s my stream of consciousness below:
Well if its not dickhead central is it
You said we’re the same as we’ve always been?” he spits back. “You’re a fucking liar.”
So he knew and used her this whole time took advantage of her emotions I am FUMING
“I waited for you,” you tell him, deathly calm, like you’re explaining a math problem. At your sides, your hands are shaking. “I waited for you for years. I cannot - I do not have words for how deeply unfair it is for you to show up now and try to ruin this for me.” You spit the words, clipping your consonants hard.
Girl literally I’m so proud of you thank god. It’s not even about namjoon, just her standing up for herself. I’m so happy but I am absolutely furious
Oh gosh hahah I get why she wanted some space but surely she should know. He was with her until she went outside. Should’ve messaged and been like can we talk tomorrow, I’m kinda angry rn. I want to calm down and we can speak after. Then he would get what the drama is.
Poor man is spiralling so bad.
Ok ok good he didn’t wait that’s good. Is he gonna believe it? Will hobi and yoongi believe it? You know what it’s like when your friends are against your partner….
even that time i backed into Lin’s car and let her blame you…
Wow dude why is he like this I can’t???
Tae is really pissing me off ngl
I’m trying to be empathetic and understand he’s not some evil mastermind, but I want namjoon to take a glove off and slap him over the face with it.
Taehyung’s response is his middle finger over his shoulder as he stalks down the hallway towards the stairs. 
What a fucking child. Ever since he kissed her, which was very much not the usual, then said see we’re not the same? You weren’t kissing before either so nothings changed. My god the anger I feel. So the whole time he knew exactly how she saw him and used her. Exactly like namjoon said, feeling like he owned her
The official part is so cute
I’m scared of the parents but I get they think he has a terrible track record
Mrs. Kim shakes her head, exasperated. “What did he say that to you for? No wonder you’re nervous. For such a smart boy, he just has no sense.”
Haha this is so cute, of course she can see right through her
Ok I can breathe now this went perfectly I feel so satisfied thank fuck they continue as they have so far, steady and with understanding. Like little chicks hatching they’re so cute.
Is the next part the finale?
I’m not sure if you’re gonna give us a glimpse of their future, but I’m gonna pretend they stay together, and they both become writers and make enough money from that (the likelihood might be low but it’s not impossible).
I picture them in a slightly fancy apartment, but not over the top, very nicely decorated and loads of reading nooks and plants and mood lighting. They just have conversations about literature and write little notes or letters to each other. They go out for food and drinks with their friends and go back early to enjoy each other more. And it’s just peaceful and romantic and sweet and intellectually challenging and I’m in love with both of them sidjxycjkx
Ok I’m done fantasising can’t wait for the next one!!! ❤️
X. So I Follow || KNJ
Tumblr media
(banner by @itaeewon)
Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)
Rating: NSFW - minors dni
Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns
Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader
Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!
Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 
Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.
//
In light of the incident with Taehyung, you prepare to spend Christmas alone.
Section Warnings: language, arguing/fighting (just some shoving), angst!, but also fluff in this one wow, bar scenes and recreational drinking
WC: 7.8k
The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay
Tumblr media
You watch it cross his face as Taehyung decides to make you prove it, but you don’t have enough time to react before he’s doing the thing you’d day-dreamed of time after time after time - before you knew Namjoon. He’s closing the gap between you, his hand curling in the fabric of your jacket, his lips finding yours, searching for something that three months ago he probably would have found. 
You shove Taehyung in the chest with both hands, and he stumbles away from you. 
“You fucking asshole,” you growl. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”
“You said we’re the same as we’ve always been?” he spits back. “You’re a fucking liar.”
You’re so blindingly angry, suddenly, that you can barely think, can barely match up words to make a sentence. “Fuck you,” you manage, the words feeling like they’re torn from your chest, leaving a bloody, gaping wound in their place. “I can’t fucking believe you.”
His brows furrow; for a minute, he looks genuinely lost. Then, something hard replaces the look. “You’re that serious about him? Already?”
You’re ready to answer this affirmatively, but he presses on. “You’ve never dated anyone, never even got to a second date. Now you’re seeing this guy for, what, a few weeks, and I’m nothing to you? Just like that?”
Something changes inside of you; you go from boiling angry to pure ice in only seconds. The silence pulses and then flatlines between you, as dead as your friendship. All you can do is stare at him, the seething rage knitting itself into something metallic instead. 
“I waited for you,” you tell him, deathly calm, like you’re explaining a math problem. At your sides, your hands are shaking. “I waited for you for years. I cannot - I do not have words for how deeply unfair it is for you to show up now and try to ruin this for me.” You spit the words, clipping your consonants hard.
Neither of you has ever said it out loud. But it’s out now. No take-backs.
He stares at you, chest heaving, eyes wide. There’s no going back to how things were, now. That option is well and truly buried, nails in the coffin.
“Goodbye, Taehyung,” you force yourself to say, and you turn and take the steps at a clip, letting the door shut behind you, leaving him out in the cold for good. 
You stop on the staircase, nearly at your floor, and slump against the bannister. What are you going to say to Namjoon? Hey, by the way, the guy you knew I had feelings for just kissed me. Maybe not quite like that. But you definitely have to tell him.
Honestly though, you don’t feel like you have the bandwidth for that conversation right now. You feel like… you feel like you’re grieving. 
You need the space and time to mourn, to accept that you’ve walked away from something that you’ve lived in comfortably for years. To accept that you’ll never have back the friendship you once had - even if you and Taehyung manage to land somewhere okay when this is all over, the truth is things will never again be how they were between you. It just isn’t possible. 
You don’t want to cry over Taehyung in front of Namjoon. He’s already given you so much grace, so much understanding and patience. This… this would be too much. At least until you can calm down, get your head right, talk about it rationally. So, when you enter the apartment and find his door closed, you leave him be. You head for your own bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind you.
Namjoon feels tortured and trapped in his room; he paces, he tries doing sit-ups, he takes a shower just to hold his breath under the spray of hot water.
None of it helps.
Finally, like a dog with its tail between its legs, he flops on his bed in defeat and picks up his phone.
[11:24 PM] Namjoon: you guys wanna say i told you so now, or later
[11:24 PM] Hobi: uh oh
[11:25 PM] Yoongi: what happened
Namjoon sighs, rubs a hand over his face. He doesn’t want to tell them. But he can’t shoulder this alone, he knows himself well enough to know it. 
[11:27 PM] Namjoon: just caught her kissing him
[11:28 PM] Namjoon: literally right in front of the apartment
He closes his eyes, resting his phone on his chest. He can feel it buzz with the reactions rolling in, but he feels like he can’t make himself look at them. 
Something niggles in the back of his mind, stirs in the pit of his stomach. 
Something about how your hands had been balled into fists at your sides.
[11:29 PM] Hobi: what the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck
[11:30 PM] Yoongi: dude i’m sorry
[11:31 PM] Hobi: bro that’s a dick move by taehyung
[11:31 PM] Hobi: like thats legitimately not okay he owes you a huge apology
[11:32 PM] Hobi: if i were you i’d go to his place and talk to him. like right now.
[11:34 PM] Yoongi: forget talking to taehyung, that can wait
[11:35 PM] Yoongi: have you talked to HER yet??
[11:37 PM] Hobi: wow double question mark. Mr Min is serious
[11:37 PM] Yoongi: shut up hoseok
[11:39 PM] Namjoon: i dont think i can even look at her right now tbh
[11:39 PM] Namjoon: let alone talk…
[11:42 PM] Namjoon: wtf would i even say to her?
[11:45 PM] Namjoon: ‘was it everything you ever hoped for?’
[11:45 PM] Namjoon: fuck
He sets his phone on the mattress beside him and closes his eyes. Stupid… stupid… stupid… It echoes through his head, harmonizing nicely with Hobi and Yoongi’s voices telling him he gives people - women - too much faith, lets them take advantage of him. 
But you’d told him you were in this. 
You’d told him you wanted to be with him, not Taehyung. 
You’d told him this thing between you was real, and that it deserves to be. 
He’s told you he trusts you. Did that change? Was he wrong to?
Or are things not adding up?
He picks up his phone again. 
[11:52 PM] Hobi: might be nice to have some answers
[11:53 PM] Yoongi: that’s true… we all know this wouldn’t be the first time taehyung has shown his ass… 
Namjoon considers this silently. He starts to get up, then stills. This repeats twice more, before he finally throws himself out of bed and leaves his room before his nerves can fail. He crosses the living room to find your bedroom door shut – rare, these days. He knocks, calls your name quietly. When you don’t answer, he tries the doorknob.
It’s locked.
“Hey,” he calls. “Let me in.”
You don’t answer. 
He knows it’s not the same, not what’s happening now, but he’s picturing you on the day you’d gone silent, laying in bed, facing the wall, unmoving, unblinking. His chest clenches with the need to make sure you’re okay, despite what he’d seen, despite the conclusions he’d drawn.
He leans his forehead against the cool wood of the door. “Baby,” he says, voice so hushed it’s practically a whisper. “Please, open the door and talk to me.”
He waits a long moment, one hand against the door, and then the doorknob clicks. As soon as he can see your face through the crack, it’s clear you’ve been crying.
His brain starts running possibilities as fast as a bullet-train. You’re crying because you know you did something wrong, and you feel guilty. You’re crying because you’re conflicted about who you want, and it’s hurting. You’re crying because you’ve decided to be with Taehyung after all, and you know you have to let Namjoon down. You’re crying because…
“What happened?” he manages to ask, feeling like there’s glass in his throat as he tugs the words out of his stomach. 
He resists the urge to reach out and touch your face, wipe a stray tear away.
You take a deep breath, avert your eyes. Then you seem to steel yourself and say very clearly, “Taehyung just kissed me.”
Then, you rush ahead, the rest of the words tumbling out of you so fast that Namjoon almost misses some of it. “But I pushed him away – I called him an asshole, I told him he missed his chance.”
You take another breath, eyes filling with fresh tears. You still haven’t looked up at Namjoon. “I’m sorry,” you finish in a whisper.
Namjoon doesn’t remember moving, doesn’t decide to move, but his arms are suddenly around you as you bury your face in his shirt, shoulders still trembling a little under his hands.
He’s so overcome with relief that it almost makes him go boneless – relief that he hadn’t been wrong to trust you, relief that you’d chosen him after all.
But as he holds you, as he feels your shaking slowly ebb away, he remembers the times you’d called Taehyung family, the stories you’d told of having no one else. In that moment, he truly feels your sorrow down into his own bones.
“You have me,” he thinks, then realizes he’s said it out loud. You shift in his arms to look up at him, eyes big and red-rimmed. He gives you a little squeeze, struggles to wade through how protective he feels with you. “I know that maybe it’s not the same… but for as long as you want me there,” he promises, “you have me.”
Tumblr media
Tuesday December 11th 
You lay in Namjoon’s embrace, chest to chest, his strong arms locked behind your back. You’re not sure how long you’ve been encased like this, one leg tucked between his, listening to his heart beating next to your ear. Long enough for the sweat to cool. 
You shiver a little, and Namjoon runs a hand reverently down your arm, chasing away goosebumps with the warmth of his palm. Behind him, you can hear your phone vibrate on your nightstand.
Again.
You try to pretend you don’t hear it. You try to distract Namjoon by reaching up to kiss his jaw sweetly. He looks down at you, eyes narrowed, seeing right through your bullshit.
“Is that him again?”
“I don’t know,” you say innocently. “I haven’t looked at it.”
But you both know it is. 
He’s been calling - and texting - since you left him on the sidewalk two nights ago. You’d turned your phone off on Sunday night, as soon as you’d cottoned on that he wasn’t going to give up. When you’d gotten brave enough to turn it on Monday morning, it was to three voicemails, unending missed calls, and a series of texts that blurred before you as you teared up over their desperation. 
[12:18 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: please pick up
[12:31 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: pick up the phone [12:32 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: talk to me
[2:52 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: i’m so sorry [2:52 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: i’m such an asshole [2:52 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: fuck i’m so so sorry
[3:22 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: please talk to me [3:23 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: you’re probably sleeping so i’m gonna stop [3:24 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: but if you decide you want to talk please call me
[9:04 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: good morning [9:05 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: can we talk today?
You hadn’t answered any of it, and he’d continued Monday afternoon. 
[4:46 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: please, talk to me so i can apologize for real [4:52 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: you’ve never not talked to me for this long before [4:54 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: even that time i backed into Lin’s car and let her blame you…  [4:54 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: did i fuck everything up that badly?
Yes, you want to tell him. But you don’t have the heart. It’s hard enough, takes enough of your self-control, to resist answering. To resist telling him it’s okay.
It isn’t. You know it isn’t.
As the texts roll in through Monday night and Tuesday morning, you feel like Namjoon’s steadying gaze on you, or his hand solid in yours, is the only thing that keeps you from skittering back into safe, familiar old habits. And to his credit, he barely leaves you alone while you’re both home. He stays in your space, quiet and calm, watching you carefully, searching for signs that you might need more from him. 
The phone buzzes again, insistent - a phone call.
You sigh in Namjoon’s arms. “Maybe I should answer him,” you muse. “If for nothing else, then to tell him to knock it off.”
Namjoon rolls to pick up your phone and places it, still buzzing, in your hands. “It’s your decision,” he says carefully. 
You watch Taehyung’s name, with the stupid emoji after it, scroll across the top of your screen. You don’t pick up. 
“I don’t think I’m ready,” you admit. “I don’t even know what I’d tell him. I have nothing to say.”
“Then don’t,” Namjoon advises gently. “Turn it off for a while. Let’s get something to eat.”
“Yeah,” you say absently, pressing your finger to the power button. “You’re right.” You watch, feeling utterly hollow, as your screen goes black.
Tumblr media
Thursday December 13th
It’s hard for Namjoon to watch, honestly, though he does his best to bite his tongue and just support you. But you float through the apartment like a ghost, and he can’t help but feel guilt over the fact that you chose to be haunted for his sake.
You’re staring at your phone, which - despite being powered off - is sitting by your elbow. Like, even though you pressed the power button yourself, you're waiting for the next call.
“You should do something for yourself tonight,” he hears himself suggest. Problem-solving mode again, like he just can’t help himself. But maybe it’ll be for the better. “Like a bubble bath or something. Why don’t you go run one? I’ll pour you some wine.”
The look you give him nearly knocks his knees out - you turn to him with a look of pure adoration, disbelieving wonder. You look at him like he’s too good to be true.
It breaks his heart. It breaks his heart that a simple act of kindness feels so large to you - because no one, not your family, or fucking Kim Taehyung, or any of your other friends, had ever done it for you.
“You should leave your phone out here,” he suggests. “Bring a book.”
You give him a different sort of look, then, one that says don’t tell me what to do.
“I’m just saying!” He smiles innocently. “It’ll ruin your inner peace if you turn it on.”
“Inner peace,” you grumble at him, but you head into your bathroom, your phone face down on the breakfast bar. A minute later, Namjoon hears the bathtub water running. 
He brings you in a glass of wine as promised, also carrying in the poetry book you’d bought him at the antique shop a few days ago. 
“Don’t get this wet,” he warns jokingly. You smile up at him, most of you hidden beneath an aggressive amount of bubbles. 
“I won’t,” you promise. “I have a tray.” 
Namjoon backtracks to the kitchen, recorking the wine and wiping down the counter. He’s humming absently, lost in thought about what he’d been writing, when he hears footsteps stop outside the front door. 
His intuition kicks in with a quick slap of adrenaline. He opens the front door roughly and immediately shoulders Taehyung backwards into the hallway, closing the door behind him and crossing his arms, physically putting himself between Taehyung and you.
Taehyung gapes at him, eyes wide, mouth dropped in indignation. Then, his pride catches up, and his eyes narrow. “What are you, her bodyguard?” he asks sourly. “Did she tell you not to let me in?”
“No,” Namjoon admits, willing himself to stay logical, not to let his temper take over. “But I want to talk to you.”
“I just bet you do,” Taehyung mutters. 
Namjoon breathes in for four, holds it for four, lets it out for six. He’s known Taehyung for years, sees him as a nuisance of a little brother in a lot of ways, has a lot of affection for him. But watching you hurt, and hurt, and hurt - it isn’t going to continue. 
“I’m sorry you found out about us the way you did,” Namjoon says, hoping that beginning with his own apology will help soften the rest of the conversation. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I wasn’t trying to be… it would have been better for her to talk to you about it on her own terms. I didn’t mean to take that away from her. Or you.”
“I really don’t want to talk about this with you,” Taehyung says, voice low and dangerous. “I want to talk to her. Move.”
“You need to back off,” Namjoon says carefully. “You’re breaking her fucking heart, bro. Give her some time.”
Taehyung laughs in his face, the sound ugly and echoing in the empty hallway. “Fuck you,” he says. “If it’s breaking her heart to stay away from me, doesn’t that tell you something? She wants to talk to me, she misses me. Move.”
Namjoon shakes his head, clings to reason, tries desperately to make Taehyung see reason, too. “Try to understand,” he begs. “You’re messing with her head. Do you even want her? If she came out here now and said she wanted to be with you, would you even know what to do with that?”
Taehyung’s eyes narrow even further, if possible. “What are you talking about?” he asks, the question like a hiss between his teeth. “You’re pissing me off, Namjoon. She and I need to talk - get out of the way.”
Namjoon’s temper flares. “Taehyung,” he says, just one of many times in their friendship he’s felt like he had to talk sense into the younger man. “You don’t love her, so let her go.”
Taehyung freezes, then raises his chin, face flat and impassive. “Who says I don’t love her?” he asks, bone-chillingly cold.
Namjoon breaks eye contact, takes another steadying breath. “Feeling like she’s yours,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to explain, “doesn’t make it love.”
Taehyung makes a disbelieving tch noise, but Namjoon pushes on.
“Feeling like you have a claim on her doesn’t mean you love her. And you know what? Even if it did, even if we agreed that you love her… this is not the right way. She deserves to be loved the right way, and this isn’t it. And if you don’t want to lose her completely, then you need to wrap your head around that.”
Taehyung is spared having to respond to this. Behind Namjoon, you’ve been listening from the doorway. You step into view, your face flushed from the warm bath and the glass of wine, flushed from what you’ve overheard.
Immediately, Taehyung moves closer, trying to dart past Namjoon to reach you, saying your name like a prayer.
“Please, let’s talk,” he begs, the words all a rush. 
Namjoon keeps his body between you, but glances over his shoulder at you. Taehyung’s intended dig about being your bodyguard doesn’t feel too off, right now. “Do you want me to make him leave?” he asks, feeling so worked up he thinks he could probably carry Taehyung out of here by the back of his neck if given the okay. 
“No,” you say, your voice tiny. Namjoon tongues his cheek, but steps aside. Taehyung shoots him a cutting, victorious look, but then you speak again, your voice still so little. “But… will you stay?” You creep into the hallway, looking entirely unsure, and Namjoon welcomes it happily when you press against his side, one of your hands resting over his diaphragm, the other curling into the material of his shirt over his back. 
“Taehyung,” you whisper, and Namjoon’s heart breaks again at the look of betrayal and hurt that you level at your best friend. “What are you doing?”
“I –”
“Taehyung,” you say again, so broken, and it stops him in his tracks. “You don’t love me. You never did. So what the hell is happening here?”
He looks back at you, a look of absolute devastation crossing his face. For a second, Namjoon feels bad for him - just for a second. “Please, let’s talk by ourselves,” Taehyung begs.
You shake your head. “After the shit you pulled last time? Absolutely not.”
“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “I shouldn’t have - I know I shouldn’t have - it’s just -
“What?” you snap, suddenly pissed all over again. 
“I can’t lose you,” he says plainly. 
You look at the ground, then - inexplicably - up at Namjoon. Like you’re deciding something. Like you’re calculating. Then, you look back at Taehyung, your body language changing as you stand up straight again. When you speak, your voice is firm and even. 
You grounded me.
“I don’t want that either,” you say, finally. “But I’m not going to be with you - not like that. And let’s both be honest - you don’t actually want that, either. You only went there because you thought someone else was winning. And frankly? I refuse to play. So you know what, Taehyung? When you can grow up and figure out what you actually want, you can call me to talk about it - not until then.”
You disentangle yourself from Namjoon and stalk back inside. Namjoon pauses. Taehyung is staring at the ground, unblinking.
“You’re my friend, too,” Namjoon says quietly, feeling like he can’t even look Taehyung in the face right now. “I hope we can figure that out, too, when you’re ready.”
Taehyung’s response is his middle finger over his shoulder as he stalks down the hallway towards the stairs. 
Tumblr media
Friday December 22nd
Through cobbled streets in tiny towns Through suffocating crowds on city sidewalks Down dirt lanes and past silent, towering silos
I follow you
Through pathless forests, over tripping roots Beneath canopies of black and green Over fallen trees whose rings tell of being felled
I follow you
To mountains bathed in sunlight’s glory Up slopes that want to pull me down To views of winding rivers - strips of ribbon below
I follow you
To ocean waves that crash and scream Tantruming relentlessly against packed sand shores The line of the horizon ebbing with the moonrise
I follow you
My feet are meant to follow yours My heart is meant to follow yours The world is mine, but I want only yours
So I follow 
I follow you
You close the notebook before you can scratch anything out. That one needs to marinate a little. It’s not like you to forgo a rhyme scheme, and you’re not sure how you feel about the flow.
You haven’t heard from Taehyung in almost two weeks. But you haven’t reached out, either. 
When you hear Namjoon come through the front door, you slide your notebook back into your backpack, leaving no incriminating evidence.
“Hey,” he says, stopping by your side and giving your shoulders some affectionate squeezes. “What are you up to?”
“Was writing,” you tell him. “Sort of.”
He laughs at sort of. “What a mood,” he says with a smile. Then, he drops himself in the stool next to yours at the breakfast bar, drumming his knuckles where your notebook had been just moments before.
You know that tic - he’s anxious.
“What is it?” you ask, instantly worried. “Did something happen?” 
You’re imagining all sorts of scenarios - Taehyung confronted him, Elyse texted again, he failed an assignment, he’s breaking up with you -
“Nothing bad,” he assures you, stopping the spiral in its place. “I just had something to ask you. I guess I’m nervous. I know I shouldn’t be.”
“Oh,” you say. “Okay. Well - what is it?”
He glances at you shyly, and you feel your heart swell with affection. 
“What are your Christmas plans?” he asks. 
Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this. 
“Oh,” you say again, deflating. “I was… just staying here, I think.”
The I think is a lie. Your plan was absolutely to stay, alone, in the apartment. You had no intention of going home for the holidays. It would mean over an hour in the car each way with Taehyung, whom you haven’t spoken to in ten whole days. Plus, Lin is working. Normally you’d go to Taehyung’s house and let his parents try to pretend you weren’t imposing, but that’s not an option this year either.
Honestly, the idea of your first Christmas without them - Taehyung’s mom and dad - is kind of depressing. You’d sent a gift in the mail, but it won’t be the same. 
Namjoon raps his knuckles again. “Um,” he says, so uncertainly that it makes you smile a little bit, “how would you feel about coming home with me? To my parents’?”
You’re stunned into silence. “I - Do - Would your parents be okay with that? It’s not too last minute?”
“They’d be thrilled,” Namjoon tells you seriously. “They thought I’d never get ov- I mean, they’d be happy to meet you.”
You smile to yourself at his slip. “When were you going to leave?”
“I’m taking the train in the morning. Plenty of time to pack.”
“I need to do laundry,” you muse out loud, already in planning mode. 
“So, you’ll come with me?” he clarifies. 
“Yeah,” you say slowly, still mentally writing a to-do list. “If you’re sure I’m not imposing… they have to feed me and everything. You’re sure it’s okay?”
He laughs, kisses the top of your head. “I promise,” he says. 
Later, as you and Namjoon sit side by side on the couch, folding laundry together, your phone buzzes on the coffee table.
Your heart leaps, hoping it will be Taehyung, caving just in time for the holidays, wanting to talk it out before Christmas Day.
It’s Lin.
Your heart sinks, your throat gets tight. You push the hurt and disappointment aside and avoid Namjoon’s knowing gaze as you open the text. 
[6:22 PM] Lin: i just ran into taes family
[6:22 PM] Lin: they said hes coming home tonight
[6:23 PM] Lin: will you be here tonight? We didn’t talk about it
You purse your lips. 
[6:25 PM] You: sorry, i should have called you. I know you’re working so i wasn’t planning on coming home
[6:26 PM] Lin: oh. Are you going to be alone?
You type the start of an answer - “no, staying with my -” and pause, looking over at Namjoon.
“Joon?” you ask, and he looks at you, surprised. “I don’t know - I mean - Should I say we’re -?”
He leans to read over your shoulder, smiling when he sees “with my -” and your cursor waiting patiently for you to finish the thought. Your what? Friend? Roommate?
You glance up at him, feeling your face flush. “Do I say boyfriend?” you finally ask in a whisper. 
His smile almost splits his face. “Is that what I should tell my mom?” he counters, his own phone in his hand.
You grin at him. “I will if you will,” you tease.
His smile turns cocky. “At the same time, then?”
[6:31 PM] You: no, staying with my boyfriend’s family
[6:34 PM] Lin: your WHAT?????????
Namjoon brings his phone to his ear, still smiling at you. When someone picks up, he says, “Eomma? Listen, I know it’s last minute - my girlfriend will be alone for the holidays, would it be okay if she came home with me instead?”
On the other end of the line there’s a series of unintelligible shrieks, and Namjoon’s playful smile only grows. “Yah, I know, I know, I’m sorry!” he laughs. “You’ll meet her! I know! I’m sorry!”
You giggle quietly. 
“No, no, Eomma, you don’t need a gift for her, just send us home with leftovers, that’s more than enough,” he says, eyes widening. “It’s last-minute for her, too, no one knew about this ahead of time. It’s okay. No, the guest room is perfect. Eomma, the guest room is fine. Let me talk to - Dad, hi.”
Giving him a reassuring pat on the knee, you stand, taking the folded laundry with you.
You’re essentially packed, your suitcase closed but still unzipped on top of your bed when Namjoon sticks his head in the door, that playful, up-to-no-good smirk on his face. 
“What?” you ask him, smiling. It’s contagious, you can’t help it. 
“Yoongi and Hoseok want to know if my girlfriend will come get a beer with us tonight,” he says, his smile growing sideways. 
You laugh. “News travels fast.”
He gives a sheepish chuckle. “I tell those two everything. I can’t function without them.”
You eye him suspiciously. “Is this going to be an interrogation?”
He considers this. “Probably,” he admits. “But I’ll keep them in check. They’re just… protective. Especially after the Elyse debacle.”
You sigh. “You’re asking me to handle the best friend interrogation and meeting your parents all in the span of twelve hours, you realize that, right?”
Namjoon’s face falls a little. “You’re right,” he says. “Sorry. It’s okay - I’ll go by myself tonight -.”
“No, I want to go,” you say quickly, holding up a hand to stop his backpedaling. “I’m just saying. I think you owe me some cookies or something.”
His smile returns, tentative. “Let’s start with I’ll buy your beer tonight,” he jokes.
“Deal,” you tell him, but when you find yourself on a sticky barstool in a mostly dark hole-in-the-wall, a pitcher deep with the three guys, you’re wishing you’d demanded cookies after all.
Hoseok gets up to get a second pitcher, and Yoongi leans forward on his elbows, eyeing you carefully.
Here we go, you think. Namjoon shoots you an apologetic look and you shrug him off. 
“So, it’s official now, huh?” Yoongi asks, voice a touch too casual.
“Apparently,” you say dryly, eyes on Namjoon. He’s kicking at Yoongi under the table, as subtle as an elephant. 
Hoseok returns, carefully placing the new pitcher of beer on the center of the table. Namjoon reaches desperately for a refill.
Yoongi tilts his head to the side, eyes still on you, calculating. “You don’t want to be with Taehyung?”
“Hyung!” Namjoon protests, spluttering over his beer. Beside him, Hoseok frowns and murmurs Yoongi’s name reprimandingly. 
You will yourself to stay calm, not to get defensive. “I don’t,” you say evenly. You hope the truth of it will be enough.
“You did though,” Yoongi points out.
“Hyung!” Namjoon barks a second time, starting to actually look pissed now. 
But it’s a fair point. And Namjoon has never once through this whole thing asked you to explain yourself, has never asked you to defend or examine the way your feelings have changed since he met you in August.
So maybe he deserves to hear this answer, you think.
“Yeah,” you say, because it’s true. Yoongi’s entire demeanor changes with this admission - like he’d expected you to lie, or deflect. Like he’s ready to take you way more seriously now that he knows you’re willing to be honest. 
You rub your hands down the tops of your thighs, trying to dispel the sweat collecting on your palms. “I guess I learned…” you say, thinking as you speak slowly, “I know that Taehyung loves me, but… I didn’t have anything to compare it to, before. I had never felt anything for or… received love from anyone else. I had nothing to put his… fragmented version of loving me into perspective.”
“Yah, you writing people are so well-spoken,” Hoseok sighs over his beer. Namjoon glares daggers at him.
Yoongi presses forward. “But now?”
You give Namjoon a tiny smile across the table. “Honestly… now I’m not sure how I could have ever been so wrong,” you say to him, not to Yoongi. You know he needs to know.
Tumblr media
Saturday December 23rd
“Explain to me why I’m nervous,” you complain, your foot bouncing as the countryside rolls past the train’s window outside.
Namjoon smiles at you indulgently, and then places a large hand over your knee to quell the bouncing. “You’ll be fine.”
“I’m scared out of my mind.”
“So what you’re saying is, this is a bad time to tell you that my parents hated Elyse?”
Your blood runs cold. “They what? You’re fucking with me, right?”
He grimaces. “Unfortunately, no. I mean, they were never rude to her. They just… never warmed up. Each time we’d fight and get back together, my mom… well, she made sure I knew how she felt about it.”
“Great,” you say dourly, eyeing the window. 
He gives your knee a squeeze. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”
You’re a jumble of nerves for the rest of the ride. 
When the train slows to a stop in Namjoon’s hometown, he leads you by the hand down the steps and out into the cold.
“That’s my dad’s car,” he says, pointing to a dark green sedan. “You ready?”
“No,” you joke, but you follow him towards the car, hoisting your duffle bag higher on your shoulder as you go. 
Namjoon’s father exits the vehicle and comes around to hug his son; it hurts to watch, for some reason. Something inside you aches at it.
When he turns his attention to you, you greet him respectfully, and then Namjoon helps move your duffle bag into the car. 
The drive to the house from the train station is quick - if it weren’t December and carrying luggage it would be walkable. Inside, Namjoon hugs his mother as well, towering over her. You greet her formally, and she gives you a tight-lipped smile, welcoming you to their home.
“Thank you for letting me join Namjoon here for Christmas,” you say, glancing sideways at him for reassurance. “I know it was last-minute.”
“No one should be alone for Christmas,” she tells you, her voice soft and even, and Namjoon squeezes your arm affectionately. “May I show you the guest room?”
You follow them both through the house and to a small room with a narrow single bed, a nightstand, and a small chest of drawers. In the corner, in a beam of morning sunlight, is a tall, leafy plant. This makes you smile; it feels like Namjoon’s touch.
“How long are you staying?” Mrs. Kim directs this question at her son, and you turn to look at him as you place your duffle bag on the end of the bed. 
Namjoon hums, considering. “I’m not sure yet,” he tells her, leaning comfortably against the doorframe. “We’d planned for the 27th, but I was looking at the weather forecast while we were on the train and there’s a storm coming through. We might have to try and get back before that, so maybe the 26th. We can play it by ear.”
She shakes her head, swats playfully at his elbow. “You know I’m no good at spontaneous decisions,” she chides.
“We’ll keep an eye on the weather and figure out the plan,” he soothes. 
She turns back to you, casting a playfully sour look at Namjoon over her shoulder as she does. “If you want to use the drawers for your clothes, you can,” she tells you. “The bathroom is straight across.”
“Got it,” you say, trying to sound breezy and cheerful. “Thank you again for taking me in. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
She nods at you, smiling. “I’ll let you get settled in,” she says, and brushes past Namjoon on her way back down the narrow hallway. 
His gaze on you is suddenly heavy. 
“What?” you ask.
He opens his mouth to speak, then looks over his shoulder, seems to think better of it. “Want to go for a walk?” he asks instead. “I have a place I’d kind of like to show you.”
Everything inside you that’s been held tight like a breath melts into something soft. “Okay,” you tell him, reaching for your coat, which is shoved under your duffle bag on the bed. “Let’s go.”
As you pass back through the kitchen, Mr. Kim is seated at the table, buried in an open newspaper. A cup of coffee sits, untouched, near his elbow. Mrs. Kim stands on a step-stool, searching a high cabinet for something, muttering under her breath.
“We’re going to walk down to the pond,” Namjoon says. His father lowers the newspaper and smiles at him a little absently. “Gotta show off the geese.”
He steps out the kitchen door that leads to a sloping backyard and you follow. Once you’re halfway across the yard he reaches back for your hand, not turning to watch you take it. 
“Geese, huh?” you ask.
He turns to grin at you. “It’s my favorite place. Come on, keep up.”
“We don’t all have long legs like yours!” you protest. At the end of the property, there’s a small space between two hedges, the grass in the gap long worn away by frequent foot-traffic, only dirt remaining. He leads you through the gap and down the rest of the hill, where you can see the ink-dark water of a still pond waiting below. 
When you arrive at the water’s edge, you notice that there is - as promised - an entire flock of geese, as well as a large swan. 
“I heard swans can be nasty,” you say, a little apprehensive.
Namjoon puts his arm around you, looking out over the water. “Ah, that’s Clarence. He won’t mess with you. The geese might, though, especially when their babies are around.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Clarence? You named the swan?”
He laughs, the sound low and melodic, warm and welcoming. “He’s been around for a few years. We have an understanding.”
This startles a giggle out of you, and Namjoon looks down at you, smiling.
“I love having you here,” he admits fondly. “This is my favorite place - I’d come here to think, to read, to write. Sometimes, to clear my head.”
“You like to go outside when you’ve got shit going on,” you agree. 
“There’s a Welsh saying,” he says seriously, “that means to kind of get your head on straight, to sort your thoughts out. But when you translate the words literally, they say to return to my trees. That always spoke to me.”
“Wow,” you say lightly, running the words through your mind again. “To return to my trees. I like that.”
He stands quietly next to you for a minute, both of you watching Clarence and his geese friends cross the pond at a snail’s pace. 
“You know what I like about you?” he finally says, as a small breeze picks up enough to rustle his hair, to blow yours around your face. “I can say shit like that to you and you take me seriously. I’ve never had anybody like that in my life before - not even with my friends.”
You get it - you never really had that, either. You smile up at him. “I like pretty words.”
His smile goes crooked for a second. “I like pretty words and pretty girls.” He gives you a squeeze.
“What a line!” you laugh, but you can feel your face flushing. “Did you look that one up on the internet?”
He laughs too. “I was inspired, what can I say?”
You lapse into comfortable silence again, watching the edge of the dark water lap at the muddy shore. “Can I say something?” you ask after a minute, and Namjoon looks down at you, surprised.
“Yeah,” he says. “Of course.”
You think for a second about what you want to say - the points you want to hit, how you want to word it. 
“I just wanted to make sure you knew,” you start slowly, “that I see and appreciate how patient you’ve been. How understanding.”
Namjoon’s eyes go wide and he actually leans away from you a little, like he wants to look at you better. “What?” he asks hollowly. 
“Seriously,” you insist. “When it comes to everything between us, you’ve been in a shitty position from day one. You never held it against me, never got mad, never made me feel like I wasn’t… worth wanting. You never demanded anything of me - not an explanation, not an answer. You just… stayed by my side and let me figure it out. And I… it’s not lost on me that that’s extremely fucking rare. That’s all.”
Namjoon’s chin is jutting a little, his jaw clenched. He keeps his eyes on the pond and clears his throat. When he speaks, his voice is a little rough.
“Well, uh,” he says, then coughs to clear his throat. “Thanks for saying that. It’s all really… not that big of a deal.”
You lean against him, and he squeezes your shoulder.
“It is,” you whisper. “I know you don’t recognize it… but, it really is.”
Back inside, you somehow find yourself in a situation where you are way out of your depth: alone in the kitchen with Mrs. Kim. 
Namjoon told you he’d be right back and went to - you assume - talk to his dad in the other room, and here you are.
You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to talk to mothers. You don’t know how kitchens work.
Mrs. Kim saves you from yourself by placing a large, yellow onion in your hand. “Will you chop this while I start the –”
You don’t even hear the end of the question over the panicked rush of white noise in your ears. You hold the onion like it might explode in your hand. 
Her back is to you as she pulls out a cutting board from a lower cabinet. When she turns and sees you standing there like you’re holding a grenade, she freezes. 
“You certainly don’t have to if you don’t want to –” she backtracks quickly.
“The thing is,” you say, face flushing, “I don’t… exactly… know how.”
The sigh of disappointment she lets out is almost comical. You cringe, feeling terrible, when she says, “Aish, no wonder my son likes you - you two are just the same.”
This makes you laugh out loud, and the tension breaks just like that. With a playfully chastising look, she takes the onion back from you, placing it on the cutting board. Then she cuts it in half and shows you how you’re meant to slice it before passing you the knife. 
She watches carefully as you slowly and clumsily try to mirror her movements with the blade. And even though you’re slow and clumsy, she still smiles at you and says, “Very good.”
“I never really had the chance to learn,” you try to explain, your eyes on what you’re doing. “My, um, my parents passed away when I was really young. And my grandmother… she didn’t ask me to help, she didn’t try to teach me. I think because… she wanted to let me be just a kid in as many ways as I still could. But, yknow. Now I’m an adult who can’t cook.”
You’re not sure what reaction you expect from her, but all she does is hum quietly, an affirming, understanding listening noise, and lean just a little closer over your shoulder to watch the knife. 
You’re about to say something else - anything, just to move on from the moment - when she speaks. 
“His last girlfriend was a genius in the kitchen.” She cocks her head to the side sharply, almost as if flicking away an annoying bug. “But she certainly had her failings outside of it.”
Elyse. You’re suddenly picturing her here, at this counter, making her way effortlessly around the kitchen.
Mrs. Kim moves beside you, turning the sink on and grabbing a colander to wash some more vegetables. You keep working slowly on the onion, keeping your eyes on your fingers.
She looks sideways at you as she rinses whatever she’s holding. “All I’m saying is, sometimes change is good. And it’s never too late to learn,” she tells you.
Change. Like Namjoon letting go of his past. Like you letting go of yours. 
“He told me you and Mr. Kim didn’t like her,” you admit, pushing the onion to the side and setting down the knife, ready for new instructions.
Mrs. Kim shakes her head, exasperated. “What did he say that to you for? No wonder you’re nervous. For such a smart boy, he just has no sense.”
You smile and hurry to defend him. “I think he just wanted me to be prepared.”
 “Prepared for what?” she grouses. “We liked her fine until she broke his heart. We’ll like you that long, too.”
“I don’t think I ever could,” you say quietly. 
Next to you, she softens. She touches your hand for just a second in a gesture that feels somehow like gratitude, and then removes it to plop whatever she just washed onto your cutting board. 
“Chop,” she instructs. She watches, reaching over once to adjust your hold on the knife, then nodding in satisfaction when you carry on correctly. Her eyes on your hands, she asks, “So your grandmother raised you? Where did you grow up?”
You tell her - about your hometown, about your Grandmother’s strict upbringing and how it led into Lin’s barely-there parenting. She listens as she works, eventually moving over to the stove and starting the base of the sauce while you finish peeling and chopping the pile she’s left for you to handle. 
“So, your aunt is working for Christmas?” she asks, stirring as you gently add the onion to the sauce when prompted.
“Yes, and she works nights and sleeps days,” you explain. “So I decided to just stay home.”
“You wouldn’t have seen her at all?” she asks, no bite or judgment to the question. Just asking. “Even Christmas Eve, or the day after?”
You think about this. In all honesty, you would have been home and awake with Lin for at least some of break. But you two didn’t really spend time together, never had. Plus it would have meant asking Taehyung for a ride, since he brought you to campus back in late August, and he isn’t currently speaking to you. 
“Maybe in passing,” you say, which isn’t entirely true. But suddenly, you feel weirdly guilty - like you’ve done something wrong to Lin by leaving her alone for the holiday. 
“That’s a shame,” she says. “Here, come stir this.”
As you finish the meal together, she asks you more questions - mostly about school and your major. It’s nice - calming. You feel like this is a place you could get used to.
“I think it’s good for him to have found another writer,” she muses. “Sometimes our Namjoon just has his head in the clouds. It’ll be nice for him to have someone who… understands.”
“Yeah,” you say, continuing to stir, as directed. “That’s nice for me, too.”
<- Prev | Next ->
Tumblr media
what are we thinking?! am i in less trouble or more compared to last chapter? lol
254 notes · View notes
sparklysung · 4 years ago
Text
✨SWALLOW YOUR WORDS – l.d.h.✨
© sparklysung – 2021. all rights reserved. no reposts, modifications and/or translations allowed.
Tumblr media
pairing – lee donghyuck x female!reader
genre – smut | non-idol!au, enemies to lovers!au
warnings – switch!donghyuck, switch!reader, lap dance, cumming in pants, grinding, dry humping, cum eating, hair pulling (giving and receiving), spanking, mirror sex, protected sex (reader’s on the pill), degradation, dirty talk, bondage (belt), possessiveness (i guess?)
word count – 6.043 words
summary – it only took a couple of words to make the blood boil in your veins and being the competitive individual you are, you had to prove lee donghyuck, your all-time enemy, wrong.
note – not my best, probably could've done better, but oh well. also this was frkng hard to write, damn, and i may have changed things a bit? BUT, i think it's better like this so… hope you enjoy! btw, i got the idea while reading this, so go check it out –it's good–.
taglist – @prvncejxon, @iwishihadabettername
another friday night wasting your time at some random classmate’s party. you were everything but happy to be there. you didn’t even want to go there in the first place, only finding yourself sitting on the kitchen counter, drink in hand and an ugly scowl adorning your face, because of your annoying best friend.
“hey, i get it, you didn’t wanna come here when you could have been peacefully sleeping in the comfort of your room, but come on, at least try to have some fun. you’re already here anyway.” eunbin –aka your annoying best friend– said, pouting her lips in a failed attempt of looking cute.
you kind of felt bad for her, you suppose it wasn’t exactly easy to deal with your lazy ass. but still, she was supposed to love you and appreciate you just the way you were.
and most of the time she did, just not in this specific situation.
“this isn’t fun at all, i just wanna go home. there’s nothing in here for me at all.”
you brought the red plastic cup to your lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid eunbin had mixed for you. you weren’t lying, there really wasn’t anything that would make you want to stay, only a few friends of yours getting drunk somewhere in the big house you were currently in.
“come on, please, stay for me,” eunbin fake cried, and for a moment you thought she was going to give up and let you go. “in a bit the guys are gonna play something fun! we should join them, please?” as her last resort, she looked at you with puppy eyes. she was playing dirty and she knew it, you both knew you couldn’t resist them.
giving in with an exasperated sigh, you jumped off the counter to get yourself another drink from the bar in the living room. you were minding your own business until you heard him, the last person you wanted to see at the moment.
“so, i’m telling you guys, she was literally begging me to fuck her, she even moaned while sucking me off–,” donghyuck’s obnoxious voice filled your ears, making you roll your eyes. he was surrounded by a couple of other guys you didn’t know so well but were sure you had seen them before around campus hanging out with him.
“shut up already, dongdong, no one wants to hear it.” you interrupted, walking past him and towards the half empty bottle of vodka on the bar counter.
the group of boys stopped abruptly, all of them turning to look at you, ready for the scene that was going to take place in matter of minutes. donghyuck’s attention also turned to you, biting back a triumphant smirk with a raised eyebrow. he could see past you so he didn’t mind the mocking nickname you used; he could tell you were trying to irritate him enough to make him go away. but he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. he had been eyeing you all night, trying to find ways to get under your skin to catch your attention. and finally, after staying at a safe distance for a while to not spark suspicions, he got what he wanted.
“why so feisty, babe.” the cocky smirk he gave you just made your blood boil, the growing desire to punch it off his pretty face only getting stronger the more you stared at him.
“don’t you get tired of talking shit all day?” you barked, eyes trained on his body while pouring yourself a good amount of alcohol.
you were certainly going to need a lot of liquid courage to get through the night.
“you boast about girls begging for you but i think you’re just trying to hide the fact that you’re the one who has to beg to get laid.”
“i don’t beg, baby.” you rolled your eyes and muttered a ‘sure’. “also, if you’re jealous of me fucking other girls you just had to say it. i wouldn’t be against giving it to you instead.” the stupid wink he threw at you made your body shake in anger, already fed up with the conversation.
“you wish, asshole.”
“actually, i do.”
donghyuck was so fucking annoying, always teasing you and never leaving you alone. your personalities clashed constantly resulting in fights filled with screams and curses, sometimes to the extent of interrupting the class and getting the two of you kicked out of it. he enjoyed watching you struggle and suffer due to his awful pranks, so you were his favorite target. you couldn’t even have a proper date with anyone because he made sure to mess it up either by scaring the crap out of the guy or sabotaging your plans. he almost completely ruined your love life and cockblocked you forever.
you did not get along and everyone knew it.
although eunbin thought it was pure sexual tension and you just needed to get your frustrations off of you with a good fuck.
it wasn’t though.
or was it?
“let’s go hang out with the guys,” your best friend nudged your arm excitedly and you sighed, not feeling like playing anything with them. every time you decided to give in and take part in ‘something fun’ with the guys, it always ended up with you either in trouble or scarred for life.
you had a bad feeling about this all.
“ugh, fine.” she cheered and pulled you through the crowd of drunk people until you reached the basement.
the sound of laughter and screams drowned the music blasting upstairs, there were empty bottles of alcohol sprawled all over the floor and tables and a circle of people in the middle of the room. both of you joined the group with you sitting between eunbin and mark, a close friend of yours that you sadly shared with donghyuck. while you casually chatted and played around with the boy, happily laughing the night away, you could feel a pair of eyes burn holes into your skull. you didn’t have to look up to know who those eyes belonged to, as said person wasn’t even trying to dissimulate.
and by said person you meant donghyuck.
donghyuck hated the way you leaned on mark’s body, how you let his friend rest his head on top of yours and wrap his arm around your waist.
he was jealous, really jealous of your close friendship with the older boy.
mark and you had been friends for a long time now and you could even consider him your best friend, so you were comfortable around each other. you usually hugged, held hands and cuddled, he was used to you wearing his clothes –half of your closet were stolen hoodies that once belonged to him–, he even had a spare change of clothes in his room just in case you decided to drop by for an improvised sleepover. so it wasn’t surprising when sometimes when the two of you hung out on your own, people –even your friends in common– mistook you as a couple.
and the idea of you two dating made donghyuck feel sick to the stomach.
“we’re playing truth or dare, who wants to start?” seoyeon, one of your friends, spoke while looking around for someone to volunteer.
“i’ll go.” lucas raised his hand and everyone nodded, not minding.
the game went smoothly for a while and eventually, the more alcohol everybody drank, the crazier things got. mark ended up getting dared to lick whipped cream off of yuta’s chest and xiaojun had to cross-dress and dance on a table. everything was fine, you hadn’t been picked by anyone yet so you were pretty much having fun just enjoying the show.
until someone called your name.
“y/n, truth or dare?” jaehyun asked with a smirk.
he had an evil glint on his eyes making you feel suspicious. you knew you couldn’t choose truth or else everyone would make fun of you for being a pussy. and jaehyun just knew you well enough to know you weren’t going to let that happen.
you weren’t one to back down.
still, the way he stared at you made an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.
what could he possibly have in mind?
“dare.”
seems like your gut feeling was right after all.
“give hyuck a lap dance,” jaehyun said immediately after the words left you mouth, making everyone in the room shake, some in excitement and some –you– in anger. donghyuck wasn’t expecting to take part in the dare, but he really wasn’t complaining either. “thank me later babe,” his shit-eating grin only adding fuel to the fire.
fuck.
just as eunbin, donghyuck could sense the sexual tension. and unlike you, he acknowledged it.
but for him it wasn’t just that.
you two had known each other –or at least acknowledged each other's existence– for a few years now, since high school. he was forced to see you almost every day at school, so, naturally, fondness for you started growing slowly in his chest. but it wasn’t until you both left for college that your ‘enemies’ label was established.
and if someone thought he may possibly like you, they were damn right.
he did.
it all started during freshman year, when he tried to befriend you during one of the classes you shared. you seemed irritated by his advances and wanted him away from you, so after a few attempts of softening your heart, he resolved that the only way to stay close to you was annoying the hell out of you.
childish? yeah. he cared? not really.
“come here, babe.” donghyuck tongued the inside of his cheek, a smirk forming on his lips. as he saw the grim look on your face, he sprawled his legs, patting his toned thigh invitingly, eager to get things started.
the look jaehyun gave you had ‘you’re not backing down, are you?’ written all over.
“shit, i hate jaehyun, why did he have to do me dirty like that?” you mumbled angrily to eunbin and she just laughed, finding the situation way funnier than you.
“maybe tonight won’t be as boring as you thought? maybe you’ll end up getting laid.” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and you only scoffed, “shut up, dumbass.”
“why did you have to do me like that, huh?!” you almost screamed at the older, taking a mental note to beat him up later. he just shrugged and threw you a wink, “asshole.”
mark patted your back to help you relax, he could see you weren’t exactly happy about your dare.
“come on, which song would you like, my lady?” lucas asked, scrolling through his spotify for suiting songs.
“or nah!” yangyang answered before you could even open your mouth. just as you were about to ask for a less sexual song, cheering erupted through the room.
everyone was pumped, adrenaline running through their veins and pushing them to do stupid stuff they would probably regret the next day after waking up hungover. and things just took a rather interesting turn, so they obviously were excitedly awaiting the next series of events.
yay, more stupid memories to regret later.
on the other hand, donghyuck was as doomed as you. he knew the song well, he knew the lyrics by heart but what he didn’t know was if he could control himself with you basically dry humping him in front of a bunch of people to the rhythm of it.
he wasn’t sure it was a great idea.
as soon as you got up to complete the dare, you heard cheering and clapping. and you weren’t going to lie, you wanted to throw yourself out of a window.
breathing deeply in an attempt of relaxing to just get it over with, you made your way towards donghyuck until you were standing a few feet in front of him.
as the music started playing, you started moving. running your finger on the surface of his clothed shoulder, you walked slowly around him, like a predator circling its prey. he tried not to follow your movements, already getting anxious by your closeness and nervously waiting for your next move.
i’ma smoke this joint then i’ma break you off.
i’d be lying if i said you ain’t the one.
you pushed his legs open and settled between them. your hands rubbed his thighs teasingly, fingers drawing closer to his crotch but not quite getting there. you took your sweet time feeling him up, softly scratching his strong arms and leaving red trails behind. donghyuck was so into it, enjoying the sight of you kneeling before him so much that his pants were already starting to feel tight.
heard you not the type that you take home to mom.
is we fuckin’ when we leave the club or nah?
i ain’t spendin’ cash for nothin’ i wanna see you take it off.
and oh how he wanted to see you take it off. all night he couldn’t take his eyes off of your figure, you looked really good in the outfit eunbin had chosen for you.
so good it was almost making him drool.
you sat on his lap, hands going to caress his toned chest and stomach. it was well-known that donghyuck exercised frequently, but it still surprised you. he felt so good you had to bite your lip to prevent a sound from coming out.
when you shifted to sit closer to him, his hands flew to your hips and you could tell his intention was to move them lower to grope your ass, but you weren’t having it.
do you like the way i flick my tongue or nah?
you can ride my face until you’re drippin’ cum.
“if you try to touch me again, i’ll tie you up,” you said with a sweet smile plastered on your face, grabbing him by the wrists and harshly dropping them away from you. donghyuck let out a startled gasp at that, obviously not expecting your attitude. with his hands twitching to grasp anything, he went to grip tightly the sides of the chair.
can you lick the tip then throat the dick or nah?
can you let me stretch that pussy out or nah?
your hips ground against his crotch at such a slow pace that donghyuck was having trouble not pushing you down on him faster. he was getting embarrassingly hornier as seconds passed and wanted nothing more than to fuck you right then and there, even with his friends’ eyes on you both.
donghyuck tried so hard to restrain himself from touching you. he wasn’t one to follow orders, but he tried just for you, he really did.
i’m not the type to call you back tomorrow.
but the way you wrappin’ ‘round me is a prob.
and everything was fine until you kissed him. synchronized gasps filled the room, the sudden show of affection confusing everybody. not even your intoxicated self could understand what the hell were you doing nor who you were doing it with. his breath got stuck in his throat, heart thumping against his chest at an alarming rate. his hands almost tried to bring you closer, but he realized what he was doing on time to stop himself.
he finally broke down when your mouth sucked on his tongue, making his hips grind up against yours unconsciously as his hands grabbed you by your waist, pressing your body flush against his.
that was it.
“you asked for it,” your movements came to a stop as you took off your black leather belt, sticking to your threat of tying him up if he didn’t quit it.
pussy so good, i had to save that shit for later.
took her to the kitchen, fucked her right there on the table.
“oh shit,” donghyuck stirred under you trying to get out of the situation.
this couldn’t be happening.
“no, please,” he whimpered as you fastened the belt until it was wrapped tightly around his wrists, locking his arms behind his back. your audience was unable to hold in their surprise, some mouths falling open. he fought against the restraints to no avail, desperate to free himself, “please, let me go,” he cried out quietly, not wanting the other occupants in the room to hear him.
“stop complaining or else i’ll also gag you,” you spat harshly in his ear, done with his attitude, and he swallowed hard. as you nibbled on his lobe, you felt a strong sense of confidence. it made your chest swell in pride to see the usual big mouth jerk with a smug grin constantly attached to his face falling apart under your touch.
seems like he was the one to beg, after all.
you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music, making sure to press harder against the sensitive tip of his cock, which was already leaking precum. although you weren’t an expert, you’d given a fair share of lap dances, so you knew what you were doing.
and donghyuck could certainly tell.
don’t play with a boss, girl take it off.
take it for a real one.
you gon’ get it all.
“whose bitch are you now, huh?” donghyuck couldn’t speak properly, way too hot and bothered for his brain to come up with any smart-ass response.
you tsked disapprovingly at his lack of response.
“when i ask you a question, you answer.” your fingers tangled in his hair and with a harsh tug you forced him to look up. donghyuck was dazed, lips swollen from you biting on them, eyes glassy from arousal, and mind clouded with lust.
“yours.” he whimpered quietly, forgetting momentarily about your audience.
“good boy.”
you loved how easy it was for you to break him and leave him wanting more, to have him so putty in your hands. specially since hearing comments of other female classmates about donghyuck teasing them almost till the brim of tears was part of your day-to-day life. it felt like you were getting revenge for all of them, so you were enjoying it a lot more than anyone could imagine.
your plump lips trailed down the length of his neck, leaving wet kisses along his honey-like skin, and he threw his head back to give you more access. as you licked, sucked and bit the flesh, donghyuck could hear his heartbeat loud over the music. he usually wouldn’t let a girl suck hickeys on his skin, but the idea of you marking him while everyone watched was rather exciting.
he swore the seconds passed slower than usual. you were just halfway through the song but he didn’t know if he could survive any longer.
donghyuck felt light-headed and painfully aroused, and he wasn’t going to last long if you kept kissing him and moving your hips the way you were.
“i’ma go as far as you let me,” your movements became slower to tease him, making the poor boy want to cry in agony. his jeans felt way too tight to be comfortable and he hoped everyone could just leave you two alone to take it off.
“shit, please,” donghyuck’s eyes closed, head falling forward and hanging low as drops of sweat slid down his forehead. the room felt like an oven and he didn’t know if it was a result of the significant amount of people in such a small space, the alcohol, his choice of clothing or your body pressed closely against his.
probably the latter.
girl, is you sucking me or fucking me or nah?
can i bring another bitch? let’s have a threesome.
“keep saying you’re a freak, you gon’ prove it or nah?” you quietly sang along, pulling his face closer by his hair and grinding down on him harder.
donghyuck was going crazy, he had never expected you to be so sexy, to behave so dirtily. but he loved it, and by the prominent tent in his pants, everybody could tell he was in for the ride of his life.
you’s a ride-or-die chick, you with this shit or nah?
say you not a side bitch, you all-in or nah?
you gon’ make them eggs cheesy with them grits or nah?
you brought him in for a hot kiss that left his head spinning.
donghyuck was growing restless as his climax neared, he was so close he could almost taste it. he couldn’t remember when the last time he got so close to cumming only from some teasing was.
everything was happening so quickly he wasn’t able to stop himself before giving in to the pleasure.
“h-holy fuck,” with a shaky moan that you swallowed, donghyuck shot his load, staining the crotch of his dark jeans. you could feel the wetness seeping through the piece of clothing and dampening your bottoms. his hips gave a few more sloppy thrusts, legs shaking weakly and cock twitching from the confines of his jeans, before falling limp on the chair.
or nah.
as the song ended, he came down from his high. you freed him from the iron grip of your belt, the skin on his wrists was red and slightly swollen. you may have tightened it too much in the heat of the moment, but you weren’t apologizing after giving him probably the best orgasm of his life.
the bewildered expression on his face quickly turned grim as it hit him.
he came in his pants like a fucking teenager.
in a room full of people.
in front of his friends, yours and you.
his friends stood there, both confused and surprised to see donghyuck so affected by your touch. nobody had expected things to end the way they did.
“damn, are you okay my man?” johnny asked, laughing at his friend’s flustered state.
“shut up,” donghyuck answered bitterly. he shot up from his seat, grabbing your hand and shoving you inside the nearest bathroom in the house. he didn’t even care to cover the wet spot on his pants, walking with his chin up and a scowl plastered on his face.
and blame it on how riled up you had gotten from the feeling of his hard dick pressing against your needy pussy, but damn, he looked good.
“i wanna go next!” hendery spoke excitedly. you couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you or if he actually wanted you to give him a lap dance too. either way, it made your lips turn upwards in a smug grin.
once you both made it to the bathroom, he locked the door before pushing you against it, back pressed flush into the hard piece of wood. the ambience took a 180 turn, your confidence faltered slightly at the sight of his angry form.
“you think it’s funny, yeah?” he hummed angrily in your ear. “you think i’d let you do whatever you want and embarrass me in front of my friends just because you feel like it without payback?” the look on his eyes getting darker as the words left his mouth.
“if so, oh baby, you were so wrong.”
trying to test him, you decided to answer.
“you’re all bark and no bite, what else am i supposed to think?” you smirked devilishly when you saw him clench his jaw.
“you’re gonna regret being a brat,” his slender fingers wrapped themselves around your waist and with a harsh tug, he pulled you closer to attack your lips, biting and sucking on them, making your legs wobbly. he tasted sweet and bitter at the same time, probably from the liquor he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t seem to get enough. his lips were soft and plush as they mingled with yours, teeth roughly clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, “am i?”
donghyuck hissed through his teeth as he unbuckled his pants, letting his cum-covered shaft spring free. he was already hard and you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together to ease some of the tension building up between them. his hand shot to your throat, tightening his grip until you couldn’t breathe properly, before forcing you on your knees.
donghyuck tapped his hard and heavy cock on your lips a couple of times before speaking. “open up, slut,” and you did as you were told, parting your lips and poking your tongue out, waiting for him to slide in.
but he didn’t.
he wanted you to lick him clean, he wanted to see you do as he said, follow his orders like a good girl without complaints.
“clean the mess you’ve done. now.”
the harsh tone of his voice sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. your hands immediately shot up to grab a hold of his length, but before you got too close he stopped you. confusion was written all over your face and for a moment you worried he had changed his mind.
“no hands, i want you to work on it only with that dirty mouth of yours.”
with your hands gripping onto his thighs, your tongue swiped from the base to the head of his cock, eagerly licking him clean. once you had swallowed every drop of his cum, your mouth took him whole, hollowing your cheeks, one hand massaging his balls. donghyuck threw his head back as yours bobbed at a rapid pace, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you swallowed around him.
when he was about to cum, he pulled away from your mouth, making you whine at the loss. wrapping his hand once again around your throat like a beautiful necklace, he forced you up on your feet. he turned you around before pulling you closer by a rough tug. your clothed ass pressed against his dick, a mixture of his arousal and your saliva wetting the cloth. your hips ground back to both tease him, desperate to feel something, anything. his hands went to the front of your jeans, rubbing his fingers over your clothed clit and a whimper fell from your lips.
“more, i need more,” you pleaded, the barrier of clothes making the feeling less pleasurable.
he surprisingly complied without resistance, dipping the digits under the restricting cloth. a deep groan vibrated against the side of your neck when he felt the wetness that had been gathering inside your panties since your dare.
“look at you, so damn wet,” his mouth watered at the feeling of your needy heat. at this point, donghyuck knew everyone had an idea of what you two could possibly be doing, and although he would enjoy returning the favour by eating you out to his heart’s content, there wasn’t enough space nor time to do so comfortably. but he swore he would make it up to you some time.
“for who is it, baby?” the answer was obvious, but still, he wanted to hear it directly from you. he inserted one long finger until it was knuckles deep inside of you and you let out a squeak, head falling back onto his shoulder.
“for you donghyuck, all for you.”
“that’s right, slut, only i can make you that wet, only i can touch you like this. you’re mine, don’t forget that,” he inserted a second finger and pumped them deeply into you.
“yes,” you breathed out softly, too far gone to fight back with a snarky remark.
although his fingers felt good and you could possibly –with a bit of an effort– cum just from them, you still wanted more. you wanted to feel the nice stretch of his cock tearing your walls apart.
“please, donghyuck.”
“what do you want?”
donghyuck knew what you wanted. fuck, he wanted it too, so bad. he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time and now that he could finally have it, he was going to make the best out of it.
“fuck me,” your core ached to be filled so you swallowed your pride and spoke out.
“condom?”
“we don’t need it, i’m on the pill,” you rushed, stomach twisting and turning in excitement, “please, just fuck me.”
donghyuck’s eyes turned darker, lust clouding both of your minds with the only desire to fuck each other stupid. he pulled down your jeans so they were pooling on your ankles and went back to pump his fingers inside you to make sure you were ready to take him. as he entered you, you had to lean on the sink in front of you to hold yourself up or else you would have faceplanted the mirror.
“you feel so good, fuck, so fucking tight,” donghyuck growled when he was balls deep in you.
whimpers fell from your lips from the delicious stretch of his thick cock. after a few seconds of you adjusting to his size, you backed your ass into his hips to let him know you wanted him to move. he gave a couple of thrusts to test the waters before picking up his pace and you gripped the sides of the sink as he pounded into you. his mouth worked on your neck while you brought one of his hands under your shirt to play with your breasts.
“such a pretty sight, don’t you think?” he tugged harshly at your hair to force you to look at your reflection on the mirror, thrusts never faltering.
your makeup was ruined; lipstick smeared messily all over your lips from the hot make-out session, neck full of bruises donghyuck left to claim you, shirt pulled above your breasts displaying your puckered nipples while one of his big hands grabbed your boob as they bounced with every hard snap of his hips.
“you have no idea how many times i had to control myself not to pounce on you,” his eyes never left your quivering reflection, completely in love with the way your frame molded with his, “every single time you couldn’t keep that pretty little mouth of yours closed and all i wanted to do was shut you up with my cock.”
“f-fuck,” his thrusts turned rougher as his free hand wrapped around your neck, tightening his grip and amplifying the mind-blowing sensations he was giving you.
your asscheeks slapped against his hips, which drilled against you at an unhuman pace, hitting the right spots with every snap and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, loud moans threatening to fall from your lips so you slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds.
“don’t, i want to hear you,” he gave a particularly hard thrust to try and draw a sound out of you, “i want you to be so loud that all of our friends know what we’re doing, i want them to know how good i’m making you feel.”
specially mark.
but he wasn’t going to tell you that.
“h-hyuck,” you couldn’t hold back the broken moan that fell from your lips, pleasure overtaking your body. your hands gave in and you almost fell forward, but donghyuck reacted sooner and pulled you by your hair, holding you up.
“address me properly, brat,” he growled in your ear. you felt a hard slap on your ass, the skin of the abused area stinging from the impact.
“i’m sorry… fuck, donghyuck,” your cries went straight to his dick, urging him to fuck you harder. he kneaded the flesh soothingly before spanking it again and again until you could make out the imprint of his big hand on your asscheek.
“f-faster, please,” you pleaded in a whine and he tsked, shaking his head, “such a greedy little slut.”
“what would everyone think of you if they could see you so eagerly taking my cock, mm?” donghyuck hummed, “begging for me to fuck you until you can’t walk properly?
shocks of pleasure shot through you, his dirty talk helping you reach your release faster than you anticipated. his grip on you was so tight you were sure you were going to be sore the next day. your moans turned pornographic as you neared your release, your walls squeezed around donghyuck to the point he was unable to move, so he started drawing circles over your sensitive clit to help you get off.
“let go, baby.”
and soon, his touch threw you over the edge, causing your body to shake and a broken moan to fall from your lips, legs weak as your whole weight only relied on your arms for support. he followed shortly after, grunting as he filled you up with his warm and sticky essence.
as he pulled out, a mixture of your slick juices and his seed leaked from your abused hole, dripping down your inner thighs. his fingers slid over to gather the drops of cum and opposite to your assumption, he didn’t push it back inside of you but brought the digits to your face, waiting for you to open your mouth.
“suck.”
and you did, eyes locked with his through the mirror as your tongue swirled around his fingers to lick them clean.
“fuck,” donghyuck sighed, “i didn’t know you were so dirty, sweetheart.”
and the teasing comes back.
“do you want me to remind you how i made you cum in your pants back there in a room full of people?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and he just let out a breathy laugh.
“whatever. either way, even if they didn’t have the pleasure of fucking you or at least seeing you get fucked, they surely could hear you from how loud you were screaming my name.”
“good thing mark now knows who you belong to,” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could think and both of you shared a look of pure shock.
“did you just mention mark?”
“…no?”
“you did! what the fuck? were you jealous of mark?” you asked, eyes wide as you remembered the disgusted look on his face when you and mark got too touchy with each other during the game.
“i am jealous of mark.”
“what? why?”
“oh my god, you’re so dense.”
“shut up, i’m not.”
“yes, you are. i like you dumbass, that’s fucking why. why wouldn’t i be jealous if you two act like you’re dating but always deny it when questioned? i can give you my hoodies, i can cuddle you and hold your hand, i can spoil you with cute stuff. i can be your boyfriend, it doesn’t have to be him.”
everything was so weird.
you were supposed to be enemies for fucks sake.
but he looked cute with pouty lips.
“well, you sure have got a damn weird way of demonstrating it.”
“shut up, okay?” donghyuck snapped, done with trying to get you to shut the fuck up. “i just didn’t know how to approach you or talk to you at all, alright?” he sighed, a scowl forming on his face. “you always seem to be angry when i’m around.” the change in his voice shocked you, it was much softer now, as if he was afraid of you hearing it.
“hey, don’t beat yourself for it, alright?” you sighed, feeling bad for being so mean to him for no reason. because you really didn’t have a reason. whenever you weren’t at each other’s throats and you got time to observe him from afar, you saw how caring he was with his friends, even if most of the time he annoyed the crap out of them.
donghyuck actually seemed like a good guy… if you ignored his teasing.
maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.
“so, would you be my-,”
suddenly, the sound of banging on the door resonated through the room.
“are you done already? i need to pee.”
you quickly fixed your clothes, embarrassed by the presence of someone outside the door waiting for you and donghyuck to get out and momentarily forgetting about the boy’s proposal. just as you were about to open the door and get yourself the fuck out of the situation, his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you closer and whisper to your ear in a way you could feel your panties get damp once again.
“we’re not done yet, princess.”
–lia:)
1K notes · View notes
darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago
Text
Peace
Karl Heisenberg x reader, Ethan Winters and the other Lords x platonic!reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR RE8!!, insinuations to smut, talks about having children
Author’s Note: this is so wacky and i just now finished it. Its just for fun and an excuse to write domestic resident evil 8 characters. I had a blast doing it. Also it was loosely influenced by @/nerdymixedpan on tiktok who makes this kind of AU stuff! Highly recommend their tiktoks
Summary: An AU where Ethan didn’t kill any of the Lords and was convinced to stay, leave Mia (the crazy chick who tried to kill him and also worked for a sketchy company prior to that) and raise Rose with the Lords and the reader.
Genre: fluff
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
Tumblr media
You were walking around Dimitrescu castle, as you often did. You hopped between places when you could. You always went to sleep at the Heisenberg factory but you did get along well with the other Lords and liked to pay them a visit when you could.
It was actually Cassandra who asked for your presence. You had heard of course that the village was being attacked but you didn’t mind too much about that at the moment. Cassandra wanted you over at the castle, to try and talk some sense into Ethan Winters.
You had heard of Ethan at that point, of course. Everyone had. The father of the infamous Rose. But you didn’t think you would get to meet him.
So you came over there and knocked on Alcinas bedroom door. She swung it open, gazing down at you. She was no longer surprised when she came over and usually was quite pleased to have someone to talk to. Rarely did she speak to people outside her daughters and Mother Miranda and she had a responsibility to those people. She didn’t have a responsibility to you.
“What brings you along here? We’re a bit busy. I assume you’ve heard Ethan WInters has escaped Heisenbergs grasp.” You let out a huff of air and nodded.
“Yes, he was not pleased when he came back home. Cassandra called, said I should try and talk to him.”
“Cassandra wants him murdered.”
“Maybe she has some sympathy because of the baby,” you suggested. You gestured to the large castle. “Any idea where I can find him?” She shook her head, exasperated.
“If I had any idea, don’t you think I would have gone to find him already?” You nodded stiffly.
“I will look for him myself then. If you find a short person not in robes, double check to make sure it’s not me before you claw them,” you told her. She gave you a small smirk before you turned around and started back down the stairs.
You had free reign of the castle and had learned its insides and outs at this point. On occasion the girls asked you to stay over and hang out for a little while longer so you had slept there as well.
You started to check a couple of the rooms, walking around haphazardly. It was when you came to a room on the main floor that you found the Duke. He sat there and raised his eyebrows at the sight of you.
“You aren’t Ethan Winters,” he said.
“Ah so you’ve seen him. Care to point me in the right direction?” Duke shrugged a bit.
“He’ll be here eventually if you care to wait.” You let out a sigh. You could go searching but it was a sure bet that he will return to this spot. You pulled up a chair from the table there.
“Alright then. You selling any good food?”
=====
Ethan came running into the room as you were enjoying a nice dish. You stood up quickly, putting your dish down on the table. He had his gun up but dropped it at the sight of you.
“Are you a villager? Do you need help getting out?” he asked, clearly out of breath. You scoffed and shook your head.
“No, no. I’m here to talk to you Ethan.” He was still clearly frazzled. You grabbed your dish and held it up to him. “Care for some food?” you asked, hopefully as a peacemaker. He looked between you and the food and saw that you at least looked human.
He put his gun in his holster and took the food from you.
“Alright. What do you want to talk to me about?” he asked, sitting down at the table. “Who are you anyway?”
“This is Karl Heisenberg's pet,” said the Duke. You scoffed.
“Shush up, you’re not helping.” You sat beside Ethan. “Ethan, I know where Rose is.”
“You know where Rose is?! Where is she?!”
“Shush, let me finish.” You cleared your throat. “This whole thing, all of it, is about Mother Miranda. She took the place of Mia to try and take Rose away. She believes Rose will be a good vessel. Ethan, Lady Dimitrescu, Karl, none of the Lords are your enemy. It’s just Mother Miranda.”
“Well it looks like everyone is trying to kill me.” You shook your head.
“If you helped them kill Mother Miranda, they will let you keep Rose. In fact, I have it on good authority that most of them would love to help take care of her.” Ethan stared at you for a minute and leaned back. He had some food on his chin. You handed him a napkin and he took it gratefully. “And Ethan...Mia told Mother Miranda that you...you’re not exactly human.”
His eyes went wide.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re mold Ethan.” He was silent for a very long time. Everything raced through his head. Why would he want to stay here? Granted the castle was nice...and these people did know how to save Rose...it would protect him from anything else Chris had planned that he didn’t know about.
And apparently, Mia had been keeping this secret for God knows how long.
It all seemed like too much for him.
“Take a second to take that in. I don’t want to rush you but I have to talk to the daughters about it.”
“You swear they’ll help me with Rose?”
“No one wants her to die, Ethan. We want Mother Miranda gone.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Why should I trust you?”
“I’m human. I’m not mold, I’m not an experiment. Just human. If I could live a happy life here, why can’t you and Rose?”
That made sense. If anything made sense, that did. Ethan took a deep breath.
“Fine. What do you need me to do?”
======
Some Time After The Death of Mother Miranda
“Have you seen Rose? She’s getting bigger everyday.” Karl was speaking when he walked into your room. You were sitting on the bed, flipping through a book. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your face.
“What, now that you’ve killed Mother Miranda you’ve moved on to caring about the village baby?” you questioned, putting your hand in your palm. He gave you a look but you ignored him.
“You act as though you don’t want a baby every time you see her,” he commented. You scoffed.
“And it always ends up being pretty pleasurable for you doesn’t it?” You grabbed his hand and pushed him down on the bed so that he was sitting on the edge. You wrapped your arms around him from behind.
“You’re damn right.” He brought your hand up to kiss it. “Ethan’s going to Moreaus today, to swim around with Rose. He invited you,” Karl said. You raised an eyebrow.
“Did he invite me or do you want a nice night again?” He kissed your hand again and then kissed your wrist.
“You won’t know until you get there.”
“Fair point my love, fair point.” You kissed his cheek and got up. “I have lunch with Donna but I’ll try and catch up with Ethan afterwards. I may make it, I may not.” You slid off the bed. “Guess you’ll just have to wait to find out.”
He wanted to get up and drag you back but you were already walking out the door.
====
Ethan was by the water, holding Rose in his lap. She was truly getting bigger every day. Moreau was standing beside them, dry now. Ethan’s hair was damp. They must have just gotten done swimming.
“Good of you to join us,” Ethan said as you walked over.
“Salvatore, Ethan…” You leaned over Ethan to look Rose in the eyes. “Little Rosey. How was swimming you guys? Sorry it took so long, I was with Donna and lunch went overtime.” You sat down beside them.
“Rose was perfect,” Moreau said. “She’s a quick learner!” You nodded, looking over at her. You brought your finger up to her and she latched onto it.
“I believe it,” you said. Ethan locked eyes with you.
“I wanted you to come because I heard that Chris was trying to get into the factory.” You raised an eyebrow. You wrapped your arms around your knees and leaned against them.
“He’s still trying to get in here? I thought once Miranda was killed he would leave us alone.” Ethan shook his head.
“Apparently he wants Rose because she’s an asset now,” he muttered but he was looking down at his daughter who was reaching up to his face. He sighed. “She’s getting hungry.”
“You should probably take her back to the castle then.” That was where Ethan usually slept with her. He figured it would be easiest to keep Rose safe with four vampires around at all time that adored her.
“Yes my sister will be wondering where you are,” Moreau said. You nodded in agreement.
“I’ll tell Karl about Chris although I don’t think he’ll get past the Lycans. Then he has to worry about the machines that Karl makes and those are a hassle too. Not the brightest, but a hassle,” you admitted, standing. “I’ll walk you back.” Ethan nodded. You turned to Moreau. “I’ll see you later as well. Try to catch up on the TV show we were watching, I don’t wanna miss anything.”
“I will, of course!” he exclaimed. You smiled and then turned back to walk with Ethan and Rose back up to the Castle. You got into the boat.
“Can you hold her while I steer?” Ethan asked. You nodded and took Rose from him, cradling her in your arms. She was looking around, ever the well behaved child. Ethan started the boat and then you were off.
There was a few minutes of silence as he started to catch his bearings and you played with Rose. You and Ethan had grown close over the weeks he had lived there. He rarely knew peace and didn’t trust it that much but you always assured him that it would be alright.
“I was thinking of maybe starting to rebuild the village,” you said, looking up at him. He raised an eyebrow.
“By yourself?” You scoffed.
“No, obviously not. I’d get the help of everyone. Donna and Angie already wanna pitch in and I figure I could guilt trip Karl into helping, with his whole telepathy thing. I think it could be a fun project. Plus if you accidentally lose a hand you can put it right back on.”
He nudged you, laughing.
“I don’t think it’s a bad plan but who will live there?”
“Us maybe. Separate housing of course but it could be a home away from the Lords. And any villagers left stragglers around.”
“I don’t think there are any left,” he told you.
“Well have you checked?” He was silent. “Exactly. Rose may want a place for herself one day, who knows.” You looked back down at her. She was reaching up to play with your ear.
“She’ll need friends her own age one day,” he said, solemnly.
“We’ll see to that when it comes.” He looked back at you.
“Have you and Heisenberg ever talked about kids?” he teased. You laughed.
“We have our hands full with Rose and the thousands of metal children he makes on the daily,” you admitted. You glanced down at Rose again. “But maybe one day. He seems to be hinting at it and I don’t know...maybe it’s not such a bad idea.”
Ethan glanced back at you and then quickly looked away. You looked happy, curious, wondering.
“If it’s any help...I’m glad I had her. Even if she got me into this whole mess,” he said laughing a bit. You smiled up at him as he pulled into the dock.
“You want a little Heisenberg running around?” Ethan scoffed.
“I wouldn’t mind a little you. Rose could have a friend.” He got out of the boat and you handed him Rose. You got out as well.
“We’ll see. Karl may be banking on it.” You both started to walk back into town. At the castle entrance you had to part.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, if your legs still work.” You gasped, shoving him.
“You have a mouth on you Ethan Winters for living in a house with four other grown women,” you said. He laughed and went into the gate without saying anything else.
The walk back to the factory was a pleasant one. The sun was setting and the breeze was nice. Not too hot, not too cold.
You made it back to Karl in record timing. He wasn’t in the room so you went looking for him. He was in one of the work rooms, leaning over one of his new inventions. You walked up behind him and leaned over the head of the machinery.
“Hey there kitten! Back up, it might come alive at any second,” he muttered, moving you back. You nodded, stepping away from the table. He turned off his recording and turned around to look at you.
“Well how was swimming with Moreau?”
“And Rose and Ethan. I caught the tail end. She had fun though. You’re right, she is growing everyday.”
“I take it by you referencing our earlier conversation you remember how it ended.”
“I’m not doing it if this machine will come alive half way through and kill us.” Karl scoffed and took your hand.
“Up to the bedroom it is kitten!” You scoffed but let him drag you along, giggling the whole way up.
771 notes · View notes
like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years ago
Text
Request: Ignorance (Volturi Leaders x Reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Judging by the atmosphere of the room, something was wrong. You turned to your three mates, skepticism all over your face.  "What's wrong?" You asked warily, watching for any changes in your mates faces, even the slightest micro-movement.  “Nothing you need to worry yourself about, my dear.” Aro responded with a reassuring smile. Whilst he was convincing, you didn't buy it. It didn’t take long for the thoughts to creep in, a reminder that you had been here before, in this exact situation. A thought rushed through your head but never left.  “This doesn’t have something to do with Bella...does it?” You asked.  “No.” Aro smiled at you gently.  Again, convincing but you noticed the tiny details within each of your mates and those details led you to believe this was a lie. 
You felt a pang in your chest, you had been here before. It always hurt to know your mates could and would lie to you again and again.  “Why are you lying to me?” You had visibly faltered, hurt etched across your face. You were met with silence at first.  “Why would you think that?” Caius responded.  “Marcus looks like he just kicked a puppy, you are trying to will me to believe Aro with your eyes alone and Aro has a particular smile when he lies.”   "It's a private matter." Aro responded.  "A private matter? So of course I wasn't included." You said with a cold smile. 
As you began to turn away, Aro responded.  "We can tell you later-"  "No. It's fine. We all know you won't. Don't let me interrupt." You interrupted him with a forced smile. Marcus was the next to speak. "No, (Y/N), we'll discuss-" Once again you interrupted, if you had to hear their excuses or empty promises again, you’d make Alec take away your senses for good. "No, how about you don't bother and neither will I." "If you want to be treated like an adult, (Y/N), then I advise you stop acting like a child." Caius’ words made you freeze mid-step and your blood boil. So much so, you had no doubt every vampire in the castle sensed it. 
You had once made a comment that the three treated you like a child, whether it was the age gap or the fact you were human, you didn't appreciate it. You wanted them to trust you as you trusted them and instead they hid things from you under the pretences that you wouldn't understand. However, you swallowed back your rage, sending Caius a blank stare. 
“We have received word from one of the Denali coven that the Cullen’s have created an immortal child.” Aro declared. Caius turned sharply to his brother, clearly displeased that he had revealed the secret. You, on the other hand, looked taken aback.”Bella and...?” You trailed off. Aro nodded.  “You’re sure?” You responded quietly.  “I saw for myself.” Aro assured you. “We’re about to vote on the situation.Perhaps we could use your involvement.” Aro continued. However Caius was quick to let his thoughts known. "They're human, reckless and don't understand, so why allow them a vote? We know what must be done. We do not offer second chances and this is breaking another law. We cannot cloud our judgement because of (Y/N)." 
You used to be good friends with Bella, but that friendship had since fallen away ever since you had met your mates. Although, that was Edwards fault if anyone’s. You’d have likely never met if you hadn't gone to Italy with Bella and Alice. You turned to Caius with another hurt look upon your face. "I...I was going to agree with you." You said quietly. If the Cullen’s had broken the law, then what else could be done? Yet now Caius was treating you like the weakest link, like you’d betray them so easily. You crossed your arms before turning to leave the room.  “(Y/N)-” Aro  was following behind you in seconds and reached out for your arm but you pulled away from his reach. "Don't touch me." You mumbled, this time successfully leaving the room. 
Within a second, Aro was back on his throne with his others. Aro turned to Caius.  “I understand your motives brother but you don’t need to be so harsh.” Aro said icily.  “I’m not going to dote to them like you two. When it comes down to it, I will say what needs to be said. If either of you did the same, perhaps I wouldn’t be the villain.” Caius shot back.  “I’ll go to them.” Marcus said.  “Ah yes, Marcus to the rescue from the evil Caius.” Caius scowled.  “You do it to yourself, Caius.” Marcus said as he stood up. 
You looked up to see Marcus in the doorway of his room, where you had went after the altercation. “Marcus, i’m really not in the mood to do this right now.” You began.  “We didn’t want to upset you. We only had your benefit in mind.”  "No, you hold me at arm's length and then make me feel bad about it. Like I did something wrong when the truth is you don't trust me enough to even give me the chance." You responded sourly. 
Suddenly both Aro and Marcus were behind you.  “You’ve done nothing wrong, cara mia and we do trust you. Of course, we trust you.” Aro explained. “We choose not to involve you because it seems, in our eyes, unnecessary stress on you. It’s our job to do this but that doesn’t mean it’s you must endure it.”  “It’s not your job to shelter me!” You turned, arguing back. “I’m so tired of this!”  “Tired of what, cara mia?” Aro pressed, knowing something else was bothering you.
You tended to bottle things up and eventually the emotions overflow from the even the smallest of changes at times. "I am tired of it being three against one. I am tired of only existing when it's convenient to you. I am tired of making excuses for him and I'm tired with you assuming that I won't leave all three of you!" You said loudly making the two men pause. You had never mentioned leaving before and it had never even crossed their minds on what to even think if you ever brought it up, never mind do. Aro seemed to clam up, his expression unreadable whilst Marcus looked almost terrified.   "Don't say things like that! You don't mean it!" Marcus pleaded slightly. You stared at him. You sighed. Once again leaving the room. However only Marcus’ followed you this time.  "I'm trying to talk to you!"  "I don't want to talk!" You snapped back, storming into Caius’ room this time.   "(Y/N), I love you- we love y-" You interrupted Marcus.  "Don't say that!" You snapped. 
That was your weakness and you loved them more than you could describe but you couldn’t go ignored. They couldn’t wish it away with those three little words. You couldn’t look at Marcus who looked absolutely heartbroken.  “You’re pulling away.” He said quietly. “I can see it...you’re pulling away from us.” You said nothing and Marcus left the room. 
An hour passed and Caius entered the room briskly, Aro and Marcus remaining at the door. “You two, leave. (Y/N) and I need to have a conversation alone.”  “Excuse me?” You responded.  "You're angry with me and releasing your anger on them. Be that adult and if you have something to say. Say it!" Caius turned to his brothers. “Get out.” "It drives me mad that you overlook everything I feel and do whatever is convenient for you! And you win! Every time, you always get your own way!" You said almost immediately.  “It drives me to madness that I have to be careful with what i say because you assume the worst of me.” Caius shot back.   "I hate that you make me feel so inferior!" You said louder, the anger rising in you once more.  "I hate that you're so naive you fail to realise that I do this because you mean more to me than anything else! I want you to be happy, I want you to be protected!" Caius scowled. “I hate that you will drag out every situation until you win. Even now, you’re winning!” You argued back. Caius looked at you incredulously. “Don't you understand!? I've already lost! I'm losing you right now! Everything I have ever done is to protect you because if you're gone I won't be able to survive it! I'd rather you hated me and were safe than dead and loving me!" You moved closer, growing exasperated. "Caius, why don't you understand that there is other ways? I love you. I love all of you but everyday it's a tag team against me!" "You don't understand how much of a blessing you are and at the same time how stressful it is to know that any tiny little movement could hurt you!" Caius said flatly.  You stared at him and Caius sighed. “You’re so stubborn.” Caius shook his head. "You won't want to hear it."  "That's never stopped you before." You responded quietly. Caius sighed again. "I don't want to involve you. I fear that if I do and something hurt you...I can't fix it."  “That deci-”  "I don't want to force you to make any decisions! If you did, I couldn't live with you hating yourself. So if I did it and you hated me for it, I can live with that!" You were at a loss for words. Dumbstruck by Caius’ words. He had never been so vulnerable with you to actually admit his fears, especially involving you.  “I want you to be loved and i want you to be happy. I cannot without a doubt expose you to these things and believe you wouldn’t be affected.” “Caius...” You pleaded, tears welling in your eyes. “I lost my friend for you. i haven’t contacted anyone in months since coming here. Bella was my best friend and i lost her. I gave her up for you. It might hurt, but it hurts more knowing that the three people i gave everything up for, are holding me at arms length.” You took hold of Caius’ arms who said nothing as you continued. “I am willing to face all of that, if it means i have you three with me. I can face all of it. I am willing to face it all if it means i get to keep you at my side. I don't want you hiding things from me, or pushing me away. That hurts more than any of it.”  
A blur of black in the corner of your eye catch your attention. Once again Marcus and Aro were at the door. Meanwhile, Caius stared down at you with a surprisingly soft expression.  "The truth is that we don't tell you a lot of things...but that doesn't mean we want to hurt you." Marcus spoke up. "Listen," You said softly, tugging Caius' hand and looking over at Aro and Marcus. "You will never have to worry about me leaving. I could never leave you behind." You turned your gaze to Caius, stepping closer to him. "Look at me." You whispered and Caius' gaze shifted. "Never." You promised him. "There have been so many more good times than bad and none of them could keep me from you." You closed the distance with a kiss that Caius was just as willing to return. One of his hands moving to your cheek. Even Marcus couldn't hold back a smile when you reached out towards them, beckoning for them. You broke the kiss to declare. "If you two don't hug me in the next three seconds I will cry."
291 notes · View notes
hxseok-honee · 4 years ago
Text
atlas heart || part 49
Tumblr media
a/n : "the incantation comes from latin 'protego', 'i protect', and 'diabolica', a declension of 'diabolicus', meaning 'diabolic, relating to the devil'. it is unclear if the translation is meant to suggest 'protection from the devil' or 'the devil protects.'..."
previous | next
tag list!! [closed]
@deepseavibez @siredjoonie @kawaii-desv @knadiuniverse @anxious-reading @catbugsugarpea @cahowlkook @amoreguk @taekookandyoongi @nogitsune-sama @whitetshirtsrus @gustavkonrad @lilacdreams-00 @seungkwanismyaesthetic @mochiteddybear @cosmicdaylight @helpitskpop @lovetootie2x @unnoticeableparadox @applejuice218 @amicalostgirl @bad-idea-personified @moralita76 @yoongiscrackhead @thebleuprince @jooniesmind @incredibleella @missbowkimjinju @marifujioka @evil-ian @uqhgood @milky-way-bitch @yellohoshi @agust-suck-my-d @okaysoplshelpme @cutehoshii @dreamcatcherjiah @butterflylion @thesunisup-theskyisblue @thealexalcala​  @yoonjibby​ @baepsaekid​ @surviving-in-neverland​ @blaisezabini​ @melswolf​ @michiiedreamer​ @minimochimin @ebeanz​ @bts-bambi​ @sleepyje0n
_______________________________
“Jungkook, will you stop eating all the cookies please--”
“How come Jin gets to eat everything in sight, but I can’t--”
“Because Jin is an insatiable mountain troll with no human manners and six stomachs--”
“Aw, Yoongi, you’re so loving with your words!”
“Shut up, Jin.”
“Kim Seokjin, stop eating the fucking food!” Jimin watches with thinly veiled exasperation as chaos unfolds in Yoongi and Hoseok’s countryside cottage. They’d arrived a few days prior, spending the week together before dispersing for Christmas Day, just in time for the full moon. It had been a chaotic week at best -- verbal altercations were had over stupid things like gift-wrapping techniques, and several small fires had already occurred in the kitchen, mostly due to Taehyung’s ice cream maker.
But somehow, they’d made it to Christmas Eve. And, so far, this Christmas Eve had been spent watching Jin eat all the food as it’s being made and consequently be kicked out of the kitchen entirely by Hoseok. Jimin’s seated in the living room with a perfect view of the chaos happening at the dining table. Y/n’s next to him, reading quietly with her head on Jimin’s shoulder. She’s especially tired today, the full moon just over 24 hours away, so Jimin’s staying close to her.
Namjoon and Taehyung are seated in front of the fireplace, engaged in an intense game of wizard’s chess. Namjoon is beating Taehyung by a landslide, but Taehyung just will not give up, something that makes Jimin smile fondly.
There’s a bang from the kitchen, catching everyone’s attention. Hoseok turns slowly from where he stands at the oven, smiling sheepishly at them.
“I may have put the pie in for too long.” The room is a collection of groans and exasperated laughter, Jin’s complaints overpowering the rest.
“How the fuck do you make a pie explode?! It’s a pie!” Hoseok looks to Yoongi for help, but the boy only shrugs.
“The man’s right, babe -- pie’s not that hard.” Hoseok lets out an affronted scoff, moving to open the window over the sink to let some of the smoke from the oven out. Jimin feels Y/n snicker softly beside him, and when he looks down at her, she’s peering over the top of her book at the scene in the kitchen. She looks so peaceful and happy, even with eyes full of exhaustion. He adores her entirely, and he knows it’s obvious to everyone but her.
Her eyes flick up to meet his then, and, over the cries of outrage from the kitchen about not having dessert, he hears her whisper to him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin purses his lips, smothering the smile that’s rising to the surface. He only shakes his head, his expression judgmental.
“Not everything’s about you, Y/n, geez.” He laughs when she gives him a hard nudge with her elbow, and he moves to wrap his arms around her and trap her in his hold. She lets it happen, only grumbling noncommittally about being unable to read like this. He presses his lips to her temple stubbornly in response. “You have a lifetime to read -- let me hug you.”
“Alright, it looks like we’re having deconstructed pie for dessert, so everyone come eat!” Apparently, the argument about the oven disaster has ended, as Hoseok’s setting a pie on the table, a giant hole in the middle where it had imploded. Taehyung jumps up from his tragedy of a chess game and runs for the kitchen, socked feet sliding to a stop in front of the refrigerator. Plucking a big bowl of homemade ice cream -- its flavor to be determined -- from inside, he makes his way to the table and spoons a giant scoop into the pie’s battle wound. He gestures dramatically at it when he’s done.
“Problem solved!” Hoseok mimics him, gesturing just as dramatically at his disappointed boyfriend.
“The man’s right, babe -- problem solved!” The group laughs, everyone slowly making their way to the table to eat. Y/n sets her book on the couch, moving to stand, but Jimin stops her. From within his pocket he pulls a vial and shakes it, eyeing her knowingly when she groans.
“Ten seconds of pain, and then you can drown the taste out with some ambiguously flavored ice cream. If it makes tomorrow night more bearable for you, then ten seconds is nothing.” She smiles, taking the vial and uncorking it.
“Did you just admit to being someone who eats dessert before dinner?” She downs the potion in one go, eyes squeezed shut. She doesn’t see Jimin gazing at her lovingly, only to lower his eyes when she’s done. She hands him the vial and takes his hand, pulling him to his feet and toward the table.
“You promised me only ten seconds of pain before ice cream, so move faster, Park Jimin.” They take their seats in the chairs nearest them, Jungkook setting his plate down on Y/n’s other side and moving to join them. Tae, Yoongi, and Hoseok sit across from them, Jin and Namjoon taking the end seats. Namjoon leaves his seat after a moment, moving to pass out silverware and swap the ladle in Jin’s hand for a normal spoon. Jin refuses to give up his spoon of choice, glaring at the boy standing over him.
“Dude, I will fight you on Christmas Eve -- I have no qualms about fucking up the holiday spirit or whatever--”
“Stop.” It comes from Jungkook, spoken with a quiet urgency that halts all activity in the room. He’s standing just behind the seat he’d been about to take, his hand resting on the back of the chair. He ignores their questioning glances, his eyes locked on nothing in particular as he focuses his hearing on the open window. When he finds what he’s looking for, he meets Yoongi’s eyes, alarmed.
“I thought you said you put a barrier around your house.” Yoongi and Hoseok glance at one another, shaking their heads simultaneously as Yoongi looks back to the Gryffindor.
“We never got around to it…” But Jungkook’s stopped listening. And, for all the years of jokes, remarks, and complaints Jung Hoseok had ever made about the boy’s heightened senses, he can say with complete confidence later that Jeon Jungkook is the only reason he’s still alive. Because the only person in the room that’s ready for the unforgivable curse that’s shot though the open window, aimed squarely at Hoseok’s chest, is the boy who’d heard the call for death fall from its caster’s lips.
Suddenly, Jungkook’s across the room, launching his body at Hoseok’s over the dinner table and twisting in mid-air to throw his hand out toward the window. He’d never in his life attempted nonverbal magic -- not necessarily the most advanced of students -- but it’s said that wizards can create even miracles if they’re desperate enough. And this is nothing like the World Cup, when Hoseok had protected him from a nasty stunning curse -- the beam of light headed Jungkook’s way right now, in this moment of literal life and death, has been shot to kill. So desperation is exactly what produces the shield charm that emits from his entire body, exploding outwards and shattering all the windows in the house as it goes. The force of it blows them all back, throwing them to the floor and against walls with cries of shock.
And, while a shield is normally null against a curse so powerful, it seems Jungkook’s done more than just perform nonverbal magic for the first time. He’s produced a physical barrier -- an invisible pane of pure energy separating his enemies from his family. It takes out half of the kitchen as it goes, destroying the far wall completely and opening the house out to the cold night around them.
In the confusion of chaos and rubble, Y/n lifts her head from the kitchen floor, catching a glimpse of the group of people outside the house, all equally disarmed from the display of sheer strength they’d just witnessed. She counts 6 bodies, all donned in dark robes, and she knows immediately that this is a Death Eater attack.
Groaning, she drags herself to her feet, grabbing anyone she can get her hands on and pulling them with her, staying low to the ground. Jimin’s the first to follow, holding onto Y/n for dear life, but he can’t help the way he hesitates when he looks past the overturned dining table, the wood splintered and cracked amidst all the wasted food.
Because there in front of him, right where the initial wave of power had surged out from and disoriented them all, is something that is very much not human. When it rises to its feet, it stands to full height, and Jimin knows that it’s easily as tall as he is. Black fur as far as the eye can see, the end of its ears and tail painted grey -- its body practically ripples with strength as it moves, and it’s from behind a set of sharpened teeth and a massive jaw, so powerful it could probably break Jimin clean in half, that a low growl starts to rumble.
It becomes a terrifying snarl in a matter of seconds, those piercing teeth shining in the moonlight with deadly intent. Jimin can feel that he’s still moving -- that all of this is happening in slow motion as he runs for safety and that no time at all has actually passed -- but he feels his whole world stop, drowned out by the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, when the beast shifts. Preparing to attack, it turns its head at the last moment to meet his eyes, and Jimin sees then that he knows these eyes. He knows the way they look him over with guarded concern and the way they turn away from him as soon as they know he’s unharmed, silently telling him to find his own way out -- after all, Jeon Jungkook’s always made it clear he has better things to do than look after Park Jimin.
Jungkook presses all his weight into his back legs, crouching low for a moment so suspended in time that Jimin doesn’t even see him leave. But then he’s gone, wind rushing past Jimin’s face and blowing debris everywhere as the wolf takes off. After another hard tug from Y/n that pulls Jimin’s focus back to the matter at hand, he only hears when Jungkook finds his first target, the ripping of cloth and the hellish cry of pain ringing in Jimin’s ears like a nightmare.
Tripping over pieces of the ceiling and walls -- the back half of the house essentially crumbling in on itself -- Jimin finds the faces of each of his friends. They’re all there with the exception of Jungkook, who seems almost feral, if the shrieks of death behind them are anything to go by. The group stumbles from the side of the house through a door that’s comically useless at this point, and when they circle around to the back, it becomes clear that there are far more than 6 Death Eaters.
The group that had led the attack has all but been taken out now, Jungkook nowhere to be seen -- but he’s certainly left evidence of his presence there. Jimin can’t tell if these people are dead or still dying, but he doesn’t have time to sort through the discarded bodies to check. Behind the cottage is a field of tall wheat that's surrounded by forest-- a massive expanse of land -- and when they look into this field to the top of a hill not too far away, there’s another wave of Death Eaters lined up, these faces rather familiar to just two of his friends. Jimin hears swearing behind him, and then Hoseok’s pushing past him roughly, only stopped by Namjoon’s hand clamping down around his wrist.
“Don’t, Hoseok! We can’t do this -- there’s too many of them. We have to run--”
“They just tried to kill me, Namjoon! In my own home!” Hoseok whirls around and gets in his face, eyes wild. Jin tenses next to Y/n, one of his hands hovering over his pocket where his wand is. When she follows his eyes, she sees that the line of Death Eaters has started to approach.
They move slowly, as if they have all the time in the world. As if they have nothing to fear, organized and protected against this mismatched group of ambushed friends. She watches as they approach like predators waiting for the kill, and she knows that this is no simple Death Eater attack -- it’s a massacre.
And then, just as silently as he’d disappeared, Jungkook’s returned. Their attackers are given no warning, only registering that the wheat around them is rustling when one of them is violently pulled down into it. He’s gone in an instant, his screams echoing in the night as he’s dragged through the dirt toward the house.
The moment Jungkook emerges at the edge of the field, the Death Eater is flying through the air and crashing into the remains of the house, slung from Jungkook’s jaws like nothing more than a ragdoll. He lands not a few feet away from them, and Yoongi’s jaw clenches when he recognizes the bloodied face of a fellow Slytherin. Turning to lock his gaze onto the line of his old classmates, he pushes past the group and summons his wand from within the rubble of his home with nothing more than the flick of his wrist. It flies from deep within the ruins into its master’s hand with ease, and Yoongi spins it between his fingers casually once he has it.
“I really hope you guys all know how to cast shields as powerful as Jungkook’s -- otherwise, we’re fucked.” The wolf in question falls into line with Yoongi, his whole body shaking from the warning growl forming deep within his chest. The rest of the group follows, facing their enemies head-on.
From Jungkook’s other side, he feels a warm hand press into the top of his head, and he knows it instinctively. He can also feel the cold length of a wand, hidden easily in the darkness of his fur and beneath her flattened hand. Y/n keeps him there for only a moment -- knowing they only have a moment -- and presses her fingertips against his skull as if to hold him back. As if to stall him just long enough to tell him to be careful. And then the moment is gone and she’s wrapping her fingers neatly around her wand, releasing him with a whisper.
“Go.”
--
None of them can say how long they’ve been there -- every second that passes is another that they could lose their lives, so it feels like they’re there a lifetime. They’ve huddled into a small circle, surrounded completely. Jungkook is mobile, weaving in and out of their enemies at too fast a speed to ever be hit by a curse. He’s taking them out slowly, dragging them back into the darkness one by one while the rest work just to stay alive. Unlike at the World Cup, where every enemy shot fired was red, these beams of lights are all hauntingly green, glowing in the night sky -- a sign that things are different now, death standing only a few feet away in the form of old friends.
Every killing curse fired is met with an equally powerful shield, a wall that shatters the moment it meets its mark. They’re cancelling each other out, evenly matched in a battle that won’t end until someone gets tired -- until someone makes a mistake. The only sounds come from incantations, spoken by those of their group that cannot cast silently.
Hoseok and Yoongi fight much like their opponents, masks of guarded silence -- a reminder that while they’re on opposite sides of the war, they were once very much the same. The difference, of course, is that their old housemates are now murderers without remorse. But that’s not their only problem.
Y/n suddenly stumbles next to Jimin, and he can’t even tear his eyes away from the Death Eater before him to check on her. He can only reach for her with his free hand, gripping her wrist in panic, which she rips from his hold with a groan. She only barely manages to raise her wand in time to block the killing curse headed right for her head. The force of her shield colliding with the curse so close to her knocks her back, and she falls into the circle with gritted teeth.
Jimin steps in front of her, closing the gap in their circle and allowing her a moment to recover inside their circle. But she never returns to her spot, only curling in on herself and gripping at her head with a cry of pain -- she knows this feeling. The feeling of her skull splitting, her body rejecting itself as it turns into something unnatural -- something unhuman.
But this can’t be happening. The full moon is not tonight, something she confirms simply by rolling over in the dirt and looking up at the sky, in excruciating pain. She can see clearly that this cannot be her reality, yet the popping of her spine as it dislocates itself is very much real. Reaching out blindly, she latches on to the first person she can find, her hand clamping down around Hoseok’s ankle and squeezing with all her might. He hisses above her and manages to glance down long enough to see an expression of pain he’d long become accustomed to.
“What the fuck?!” It’s the first time he’s spoken in ages, his attention back on his opponent as he works out in his mind how this is possible. There’s no time to reason through what he knows, however, because Y/n’s teeth are clenching so hard she’s afraid they might crack, her grip on his ankle tightening painfully. Hoseok makes a snap decision then, calling out into the night.
“Jimin, listen to me.” The boy’s on his left, so focused on the shield he’s casting that he responds only once he’s successfully blocked the deadly beam of green light.
“What is it, Hoseok--”
“You have to take her into the forest. Now.” His instructions are muffled by the sounds of a curse crashing into Namjoon’s shield, unheard by their enemies, but Jimin hears him clearly. He also hears the urgency in Hoseok’s voice, telling him there’s no time for questions. “It has to be you, Jimin.”
He knows then what Hoseok’s saying, what he hasn’t had the chance to confirm himself. Y/n’s transforming on a night other than the full moon, and they’re out of time. He calls for Y/n then, reaching back for her.
“Y/n -- baby, listen to me. We gotta go.” There’s a moment of nothingness, only her groans of pain, but then he feels her hand slamming down into his and gripping hard. And then his body is working faster than his brain.
Stepping forward out of the circle and straight for the man that’s been trying to end his life all night, Jimin swings his arm out, bringing a new shield up with him as he goes. It hits the Death Eater from the side, catapulting him through the air. Just as he’s in the downward arc of his fall, he’s caught suddenly, torso trapped in Jungkook’s jaws as the wolf leaps into the air to capture his next target. They crash to the ground not far away, hidden away in the wheat.
Jimin pulls Y/n to her feet, pointing his wand out into the field as he runs for the treeline.
“Fumos!” The effect is immediate, smoke pouring out of his wand and swirling around him in a dense fog. It keeps them hidden as they make a beeline for the trees, allowing them safe passage. Jimin chances a look over his shoulder and sees that the smoke hasn’t passed over his circle of friends, ensuring that they’ll still be able to see clearly and protect themselves.
Y/n stumbles again as they run, but Jimin’s hold on her keeps her going, and she registers that he’ll be there for her transformation. Panic seeps in through the pain, and she calls out desperately for him to stop, her vision leaving her. Jimin can feel her struggling against him, but he tightens his grip and forces her to follow. They’re close to the treeline by now, but it won’t be enough until they’re completely hidden. And, although he can’t see where the wolf has gone with his old enemy, Jimin steps in something wet and everything suddenly reeks of blood, so he knows Jungkook is near. Apparently, Y/n can smell it, too, because she’s struggling harder now.
“Jungkoo-- Jungkook, stop him!” Jimin grits his teeth and stops, turning to face his girlfriend and pulling her forward. She crashes right into him, the force of his sudden movement propelling her straight into his arms. Her eyes are wide open but her vision’s completely blacked out, which Jimin can see in the fact that she won’t look at him. But he doesn’t need her to.
Ducking low, he wraps an arm around her waist and throws her over his shoulder, ignoring her cries of outrage as he races for the forest just ahead. She pounds her fists against his back, practically roaring with fury as she fights him. He only pushes on, telling himself he’ll let her be as mad as she wants later, if they’re still alive.
Once they make it into the forest, Jimin runs only far enough that he feels unseen before setting her on her feet. She’s immediately falling to the ground, crawling blindly away from him and clawing at the dirt in pain.
“Go away! Just go away!” Disappearing behind a tree, she swears at him loudly, looking for any outlet for her pain. Jimin only turns to the treeline, letting her curse him as he surveys the land around him for Death Eaters. All he sees is Jungkook in the distance, turning in circles in the field as if lost.
Jimin watches as the wolf races for their friends, sliding to an urgent stop and turning back again in confusion when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. He sees when Jungkook’s ears perk up at someone’s call, and his head is turning in Hoseok’s direction. Hoseok’s lips move, giving instructions Jimin can’t hear, but he knows exactly what’s been said when Jungkook’s whipping around to look at the trees.
Interestingly, the wolf hesitates, moving forward before stopping to looking over his shoulder. It’s only a moment, but it’s enough for Hoseok to point out at the forest urgently as he blocks another curse. Jimin can read Hoseok’s lips clearly then as the older boy calls out to Jungkook.
Jimin will die if you don’t go.
The chill that runs down Jimin’s spine at that moment, an omen playing a cruel joke on him, only worsens when he realizes that he’s stopped being able to hear Y/n’s pained gasps. A low whine rings out behind him, and it’s with bated breath that Jimin’s turning slowly on his heels.
Towering over him with an icy gaze locked on him is Y/n -- rather, it’s the part of Y/n that has no idea who he is in that moment. The eyes that see him only see through him, completely empty of anything that isn’t primal. Where Jungkook’s eyes are still his own even in a wolf’s body, these eyes don’t recognize him, and Jimin knows that fact alone will haunt him forever.
Yet, he isn’t afraid of her. He’s only afraid for her -- for the way she’s still curled in on herself, still in pain. He’s afraid for the way she blinks, thoughts muddled and lost, struggling to find herself in the darkness of her mind. He’s especially afraid for the way she finally gives in, losing her will to fight for herself. Her pupils shrink and grow until she’s focusing in on him, and Jimin knows by the way she tilts her head curiously at him that he’s got her attention -- and that’s never good.
When she takes a step toward him, he mirrors it with a step back, and that alone seems to set her off. She moves suddenly, closing the distance between them easily. She leans down until her snout is pushed close to his nose, snarling at him as he stays frozen where he stands. When she raises one clawed hand, he barely has time for a final thought before she’s swinging down at him.
Well, shit.
Suddenly, Jimin’s flying through the air and crashing to the ground a few feet away, rolling to a stop at the base of a tree with a groan -- but he’s in one piece. Lifting his head, he finds that he hadn’t been sliced to pieces by his own girlfriend. He’d been shoved out of the way by a wolf twice his size, the wolf in question now standing where he had just been.
Jungkook’s got his teeth latched around Y/n’s wrist, growling loudly to keep her attention on him. They stand there a few moments, eyes locked in a tense stare-down of dominance. Y/n eventually raises her other hand, claws gleaming in the moonlight, but Jungkook only growls again, a warning. It stops her, as if recognizing this moment, and, although she seems enraged by the display, she lowers her hand anyway.
Ripping her other, trapped, wrist from Jungkook’s jaws, she lets out her own snarl and steps toward him, and Jimin thinks these two might really tear each other apart. But Jungkook’s been here countless times, and he’s still of clear mind, so he knows exactly what to do.
Crouching quickly, he snaps his teeth at her ankles, sending her backwards. She roars angrily, but he persists, snapping at her feet again and again until she’s finally scurrying off into the forest with a cry of outrage. Jungkook watches her go before rushing to Jimin, startling the boy out of his shock.
The wolf sniffs at the air around Jimin, knocking him around with his massive head as he pushes his snout into Jimin’s torso, checking for injuries. Jimin’s lost for a moment, wondering exactly why Jungkook’s expressing so much concern when Y/n should be his priority, but then he remembers exactly what it would mean if he had been caught by one of Y/n’s claws.
Once Jungkook’s done checking that Jimin won’t be turning into a werewolf anytime soon, he’s gone, disappearing after his sister. Jimin only sits there, bruised and battered but alive all the same. Then he hears someone yelling Taehyung’s name in the distance, and he’s on his feet.
Rushing out to the field, he stops at the top of the hill, his breath catching in his throat when he sees the scene down below. His friends are still surrounded, and, although the number of Death Eaters has been severely reduced thanks to the merciless animagus running around, there’s still too many of them. But before he can rush to help, something happens, all too fast to process -- and Jimin has the displeasure of witnessing everything from that hill.
Down in the circle, the rest of the group is fighting for their lives. Many of the boys have sustained injuries simply from their own shields exploding too close to them -- pieces of the ground and debris from the house are thrown around, catching on their bodies in surface wounds they won’t even notice until the next morning.
There’s a special kind of desperation spilling off of Namjoon and Taehyung -- the only muggleborns in that circle -- and it’s making one of them reckless. Namjoon’s keeping his cool, as he’s been in the Order for months now and has had the battle training, but Jin’s having to compensate for small mistakes Taehyung is making out of fear. The Gryffindor’s only a boy, a boy targeted simply for being born. This is the first time he’s ever been faced with his own reality, and he’s terrified.
So when he slips on a piece of rubble at his feet, the only thing that keeps him alive is the fact that he’d moved his head a quarter of an inch to the left just in time. The killing curse flies past him and through the circle, passing Yoongi on the right and hitting a mark just past him -- that mark is the Death Eater that Yoongi had been battling all night.
The boy crumples instantly, the light in his eyes gone. Yoongi watches as he goes, his mind blank as the body crashes to the ground. And then he’s turning on his heel, everything slowed and muffled around him. The Death Eaters have all stopped, equally shocked from what’s just occurred -- after all, they’re just boys, too.
Yoongi hears Jin yelling Taehyung’s name, and he sees Hoseok rushing for him. He watches as Namjoon starts to run to Tae and then stop, raising his wand and choosing to keep guard instead, realizing that their fight isn’t over. Yoongi watches all of it with wide eyes, thinking then that this scene would be very different had the curse hit Taehyung as intended. He spins, staring down at the dead body below him, thinking that this is what Taehyung would have been. This lifeless, empty corpse. And that’s just too much for someone like Yoongi to deal with.
In that moment, the strength of the silent marksman is broken, shattered from within as he fights no longer to protect his own life but those of his friends. In that moment, he proves to be much more worthy than he’d ever thought himself before, breaking through that perpetual tendency to hide himself away — but it comes at a price. Because it’s in that moment that Min Yoongi, for all that he’d tried to free himself of that cursed name, finally gives in to the bloodline he’d spent his whole life denying.
“Protego diabolica!” The spell is cast like the roar of a dragon awakened, enraged -- the first time he’s spoken an incantation in years. It’s ripped from his lungs against his will, uttered with nothing but the urge to destroy, the need to bring pain down on his enemies so that they may never hurt his family again. That dark magic — so forbidden, so evil — follows the command of his left arm, quite literally brought to life by the malice in his eyes and the sweeping of his hand in an arc around himself. And for the first time in the 7 years Jimin had known the shy, self-loathing Slytherin — so guarded from the vulnerabilities of life — he watches from that hill as Yoongi loses control.
The fire that flows out of his hand like water -- icy and unforgiving -- spreads out around Yoongi like a wall of pitch black rage. It passes right over his friends -- they flinch at the foreign magic and its caster, who seems equally foreign to them now. They watch with awe as Yoongi commands the fire, forming a protective circle around them with ease. It almost seems to feed off of his rage, growing with every breath he takes and shrinking with the fall of his chest. He is a snake no more -- a dragon birthed of fire and blood stands in his place.
Jimin watches in pained silence as one of his closest friends loses himself to the war -- but even now, he can still see that Yoongi’s still there. And it’s Yoongi that will have to deal with consequences later, but right now he’s doing whatever it takes to save them. And that includes exploding with anger the moment he spots Jimin still up on that hill.
“Get your ass in here!” The ring of fire seems to swell with his outrage, and Jimin is in no place to refuse. The Death Eaters are still shocked and disoriented by the wall of fire they’re now faced with, and Jimin uses that to his advantage. Racing down the hill, he leaps into the circle, the cold flames licking at his ankles as they let him pass, recognizing him as a friend to their master.
Having seen Jimin’s success at passing through the ring, two of the Death Eaters rush at the wall, unaware of the nature of this dark magic. The moment they make contact with it, the fire senses their intentions, reacting accordingly. Jimin watches as they dissolve into nothing, shrieks of pain ringing out into the air as the fire consumes them. When he turns, he sees that Yoongi is shaken by this, his eyes conflicted as he watches two of his classmates cease to exist, remembering exactly what kind of magic he’s just brought into the world.
But when one of the last Death Eaters attempts to cast another killing curse into the circle, hoping to get through, the fire seems to act not on Yoongi’s command but on his instinct -- and his instinct is to block it. The flames explode outward, concentrating into a wall of protection and destroying the curse. And then they reach further, snaking out to overpower the boy who’d cast the spell, consuming him and his plea for mercy.
There’s only one Death Eater left, standing just outside the circle. Yoongi locks eyes with him, sees the trembling boy staring back at him with fear. They see each other, remembering simultaneously all the times they’d eaten together at mealtimes and suffered together during exam season. They’d grown up together. Just how they’d ended up here, neither of them can recall in that moment, and it destroys whatever innocence they’d had left.
Yoongi finally looks out to the field, his eyes flicking quickly before returning to the Death Eater. The boy hesitates, eventually stepping back. After another moment, he turns, running for his life and never looking back.
When he’s gone, the ring of fire fades, the wall tumbling down until all that’s left is a ring of earth around them that’s been burned to a crisp. Yoongi crumbles then, falling to his knees and staring at nothing. Jimin and Hoseok rush to him, eyes scanning him in concern. They all remain silent, words unable to express what any of them are feeling. Finally, Yoongi lifts his head, still unable to lock eyes with anyone.
“Is everyone okay?” They don’t answer his question, Jin only scoffing in shell-shocked disbelief.
“Are you okay?” Yoongi looks at his best friend, and he knows Jin can see right through him. They all can. He doesn’t respond, and they fall to silence again. Surrounded by bodies and destruction, unable to comprehend what’s happened. Unable to fathom how inexplicably broken they’ve become.
Just when they’re ready to face each other -- when they’re ready to face the aftermath of this night together -- a howl rings out from the forest, pained and haunting. They all lift their heads to stare in exhaustion at the treeline, outlined perfectly by the light of a moon that isn’t full. Yoongi chuckles darkly, shaking his head as he rises slowly to his feet and dusts off his pants before turning to look at what's left of his home with a long sigh.
“This family’s a fucking mess.”
143 notes · View notes
wildernessuntothemselves · 4 years ago
Text
Oppa Knows Best | Part 6
Word Count: 2.3k (short but super sweet) Genre: Angst, minimal smut Summary: How will Jaehyun react when you suggest that the two of you separate? 
Warnings: violence, blood, manipulation, abusive relationship, suicidal thoughts, dub-con
Tumblr media
Gif credit “I think… I need some time to think about this.” You say, wrapping your robe tighter around your naked body and warily glancing at Jaehyun who was now dressed in his boxers and pacing around the room. Just as predicted, he stops abruptly at your words and turns to you with barely contained wrath and exasperation. He was at the edge of his rope and you could tell. “You’ve had your time! I’ve waited years for you!” 
You gulp, staring down at the knot tying your robe together, and seeing the thin fabric vibrate over your skin with the power of your erratic heartbeat. “I know but---can’t you wait just a little bit longer.... This is all too much for me and I-- I don’t know what I should do.”
“It’s always been too much for you. You’ve always run away from confronting this and I won’t let you run again. This ends tonight.” The finality of his words suffocates you. He has you trapped, forcing you to make a decision that you don’t even know if you can make. 
“I didn’t know...I never wanted to hurt you, oppa.” You put your head between your hands, but his accusations still cut their way through to you easily.  “You knew. No one is that fucking oblivious. You must’ve seen how you pulled away from me every time I tried to confess to you.” 
Guilt eats away at you as you remember all the times you had inexplicably shied away from him every time you seemed to get close to getting what you’ve always wanted from him. You never understood it. You would just close up--the blood in your veins drawing back to your heart and pooling into your abdomen, leaving your limbs cold and shaky. You’d feel so imperiled, like any utterance of his potential love for you would make you bleed out. It didn’t make any sense but it was just so overpowering, a survival instinct, that you were forced to follow it.  You couldn’t even discuss it with him, because how could you without revealing your true feelings for him? A prospect that terrified you just as much as the other one.
You shake your head, feeling your mind swelling up with confusion. “I can’t think right now, oppa.” 
“There is nothing to think about. You’ve been running from this for years and look where it led us. You tried going after someone else, and look where it led us. You want me and I want you. We are made for each other. There is nothing else to think about.” 
“But what if we’re not good for each other?” You whisper quietly, fearing the blasphemy your own tongue was speaking.  “What if it’s not healthy…”
“And who told you that, your barista boy?” Jaehyun accuses indignantly, “What the fuck does he know about us? You had no business involving him in our lives. We were doing just fine before he came along.”
“No, we weren’t!” You can’t help your outburst when he’s always refusing to acknowledge the flaws in your relationship. Just because he ignores them, doesn’t mean they’re not there. The least he could give you is to acknowledge your problems and reassure you that he sees them too and wants to solve them. “You were controlling my life and treating me like a slut for sleeping with other guys.”
“You were whoring around. I was protecting you!”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You keep hurting me, and you don’t give a shit! You are so obsessed with getting me that you are willing to break me down so I’d only have you to turn to.” You shrill, unable to hold back your emotions.
“And you chased away any woman I could possibly be with so I’d only have you!” He shouts right back at you, not missing a beat. 
The two of you are at a standstill, anticipating the other’s next attack, and you’re tired of it. You can’t keep doing this. So, full of worry and trepidation, you suggest, “Then maybe we should just stay away from each other for a bit. Take some time to look at things from a---”
“Don’t…” He grits out, fury coiling under his skin.
“I just think it might do us good if--”
“Absolutely not.” He barks at you, making you flinch back, and a thought like a parasite springs up into your mind, taking over you and forcing itself out into the world. “If you can’t even handle me stepping away for a bit then maybe we should just...stop.”
He stares at you in shock and betrayal, hardly believing what you were suggesting. “Don’t you dare.” He hisses, eyes red with tears. 
“We can’t keep hurting each other, oppa.” You futility try to explain yourself to him, and perhaps to yourself too.
“No. You can’t do this to me. Not after everything I’ve been through for you. I won’t let you.” He grabs you by the arm, shaking you roughly and jostling the tears out of your eyes.   “I love you so much, oppa, but--”
“No, fuck you!” He throws you on the bed, the veins in his neck bulging out as he screams at you. “You promised. You said you’ll never leave me.” 
Your fingers dig into the blanket under you, trying to find something to tether yourself to as your world spins into chaos around you. “I was a child back then. I didn’t know how bad things would get.” 
“No, you just didn’t have anyone else to latch onto back then, but now that you do, you’re throwing me out like yesterday’s garbage and hiding behind your bullshit excuses. I stayed loyal to you all this time. I never tried to replace you. I dumped Miyeon for you. I never pursued another woman for you. Everything I ever did was for you, and you're abandoning me the minute someone else gives you any attention?" He grabs your face and presses his forehead against yours. "I can't let you go. I won't. You're mine."
"You're hurting me, oppa." You tremble as his fingers dig into your jaw, but he doesn’t let up.  "Maybe you deserve it. You're a selfish fucking bitch. All you do is take, take, take! You made me dedicate my entire life to you and now you want to leave? Fuck that."
“That's not fair! I waited so long for you.” You cry out, reaching out to him, needing him to reassure you that he believes you. You’re not some evil person that was playing with him all this time. You don’t want to leave him just because you have someone else now. No one could ever replace him. 
But he throws you back against the bed before you can touch him and he whirls around the room like a hurricane, grabbing whatever he can get his hands on and chucking it against the wall, breaking anything and everything. “God-fucking-dammit!” 
Soon the entire room is in disarray, but it does nothing to buffer his anger. You gasp in horror as his hand collides with the mirror, his skin breaking along with the glass. Seeing crimson blood gushing down his pale skin, you jump off the bed and run to him, your fear for him overpowering your fear of him. 
But when you get close, he grabs you by the neck and slams you against the wall, the back of your head bouncing back against the concrete and the shock of the impact making your vision go spotty and your ears ring for a few seconds. 
When you come to, you feel the warmth of his hand being replaced by something cool and jagged pressing against your neck, and you stare at him in horror, hardly believing what is happening, but there is no denying the resentment and malice murking up his warm brown eyes. 
“I have no one else but you. You think I’ll just let you leave?” He asks, voice as jagged as the glass he has pressed against your throat
You close your eyes, a small part of you wishing he’d just do what he’s clearly threatening to do. You’d rather die than live in a world where your oppa would ever try to hurt you. You’ve been struggling for too long and you just want it to stop. This will be easier. You won’t have to fight anymore. 
But you feel the glass move away from you and hear a thud as Jaehyun falls to his knees in front of you, sobbing loudly. “I love you so much. Why are you doing this to me?” 
You feel a twinge of disappointment as you open your eyes and look down at the destitute man in front of you. He looks so small, so scared, resembling the little boy you had made that promise to so long ago and it makes you feel wretched. You were telling him you are going to take everything away from him again after promising him that you’d never leave--after telling him for years and years that you love him and that he’s the most important person in your life. You’re abandoning him just like his father did.
You feel the cold shard of glass on your skin again, this time in your palm as Jaehyun places it in your hand and closes your fist around it. “Kill me then. I’m already dead without you.”
You gasp, shaking your head and trying to pull your hand away. “Stop, please.”
But he tightens his hold around your fist, making your hand close tighter around the glass, the edges of it cutting into your palm. “No. I’ve shielded you from the consequences of your actions for so long. It’s time that you face what you’ve done to me.” 
"I never meant to hurt you.” You wail as your own blood seeps between your fingers. “Please, oppa, stop this. I'm scared. I don’t want to hurt you.” 
“You’re killing me.” He insists, poking the skin of his neck with the sharp point of the glass, nicking a small area. “This is just quicker.” 
"I won't leave. I swear I won't leave.” You choke out desperately, panicking at the trail of blood running down his neck. “Just stop it, please!”
He finally loosens his hold on your fist and you immediately drop the glass and pull your hand up to your face, watching the shaking, bloody mess it had become in horror. 
"I love you so much, angel." You hear him say and feel his face nuzzling against your lower belly. You look down at him numbly and see him pulling your robe apart so he can lay kisses directly on your skin.
You can’t feel the warmth from his lips, not when your hand is gushing hot blood still. He doesn’t care though, continuing down your body towards your heat, seeking another warmth all-together. 
You gasp when his tongue slides between your lips and your hand shoots out to clutch at his hair, not caring that you’re messing it up with your blood. Jaehyun’s mouth on you manages to warm you up a bit, and you focus all your attention on how his tongue feels licking around your clit, trying to drown out everything else, trying to pretend that this is just a normal day. 
You almost fool yourself too--if it wasn’t for his quiet sobs that drift up to you every once in a while and the way his hair becomes matted and discolored with your blood, you could almost believe it. But when he stands up, his dick nudging between your legs, you can’t bear to look at him. 
So you turn around and face the wall, feeling more than hearing the strained sound of pain emanating from his chest and flowing into your back.  "I'll make it up to you, angel. I'll make us happy again. I promise you." He grunts, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he pushes inside you. 
“It will be just like before.” He promises lowly, his words are a hiss in your ear, making you shudder. You bite down on your lip to keep down your own cries as he fucks you against the wall like he intends to prove to you just how much he means his words. 
And you stand there and take it. You’re just so tired of fighting back. You don’t want to hurt anymore. 
__________________
You lay in his arms in the bathtub, the hot water running down your bodies and carrying the blood with it making it look like a crime scene. And maybe it was. Here lies all your will to break free and every hope that things could change. They wash away from your body like cheap paint to reveal the scars Jaehyun has permanently etched on you, reminding you that he will never go away. 
When the water stops running red with blood, he carries you out of the tub and into the bedroom where he dresses you up and bandages your wound, pressing a gentle kiss onto your palm once he’s done. With not a single evidence of the night’s violence on the both of you, he kneels down in front of you, and grabs your fidgety hands in his bigger ones, squeezing down on them and prompting you to look at him. When you do, you see the determination strong in his eyes and you wonder how he could possibly have the energy to fuel it when you were all dried up. 
You decide that he must’ve stolen it from you.  
"You will not communicate with that boy again. And it goes without saying that Soojin is out of my life too." He informs you. 
You stay quiet, staring straight at him and he sighs, kissing your hands again before getting up to lay the both of you on the bed under the blankets. Pulling you in his arms, he rubs a hand up and down your side soothingly as he whispers quietly to you and smiles his dimpled smile, just like he always does, but it doesn’t look the same to you anymore.
"I won't let anyone tear us apart… even you."
________________________
A/N: I know this is super short but like there ain’t much else to say :’) I went with the ending that made the most sense so I hope you guys like it
301 notes · View notes
serendipityjxmn · 4 years ago
Text
Mr. President
Tumblr media
Chapter 22
TW: None
Words Count: 2.4k
Link to Masterlist
Link to Chapter 23
Tumblr media
The doctor lets you come home that Saturday. You notice your husband is home all the time and some days Taehyung or Hoseok or even Jungkook would drop by to send him some files. You tell him you’d be fine on your own but he just brushes you off. He doesn’t shut himself off in his study too, instead he does his work on the study table in the master bedroom near you.
It still feels weird that your husband has completely changed in the time span that you’re in the hospital. He really sticks to his word and tries a lot for you. He’s not being mean to you, he doesn’t snap at you all the time except perhaps when you’re trying to do houseworks because you’re starting to get bored now.
He tries to make it up by bringing in all sorts of art set, empty canvases or easels for you to paint, that the bedroom is starting to look like an art studio. But it’s all done under his immense scrutiny, in case you ‘use too much of your shoulder’ as he says.
You’re still a little afraid of him, not yet coming completely into terms with the mafia side of his, body instinctively jerking away when he’s doing something remotely triggering your sense of alarm. You feel guilty because he never says anything about it, like saying you’re overreacting. He simply understands the trauma he causes so he puts a lot of effort to make sure he doesn’t do more than what you can handle, doesn’t do things that make you jump or touch you in any ways more than necessary.
Sometimes he’d go out briefly to attend necessary business matters and comes home with bouquets of flowers, jewelleries or any sorts of gifts.
And then even though he’s bad at it, he tries to cook for you and little by little you try to embrace him wholly, just by seeing how much he tries to make up for his ‘dark side’. And you adore him for putting so much effort.
He also starts to bring you along when he has his regular sparring sessions while practicing self-defence and martial arts just so you could learn how to defend yourself- what with being the wife of a mafia leader and all. Although of course, you can’t do anything yet so you just sit through the whole two hour watching a bunch of half naked men throwing punches at each other.
As you sit through the sparring session between your husband and Taeseok one day, you can’t help but wonder if your husband has a hidden grudge against him from the way he throws his punches. Once they’re done, you approach Taeseok first without thinking, asking if he’s okay. He seems flustered at first and quickly mutters, “I’m fine, Mrs. Park,” before dismissing himself.
You follow your husband as he heads to the locker room to change.
“Do you really have to hit him that hard? It’s just a sparring session,” you say.
He suddenly stops in his tracks, making you almost bump into his back and then swiftly turns around, narrowing his eyes at you. “Mrs. Park. Are you seriously worrying about another man right now?”
Before you could process it, he pushes you against the locker but in a very careful way, holding your waist instead of your shoulders and a gasp escapes your lips. “Hmm.. how do I punish you for that?”
For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss your lips but then he dips down to your neck and lightly bit it, and your heartbeat rate went from 60 to 150 per minute real quick. You glare at him when he pulls back only to see him smirking at you before he turns on his heel towards the shower.
For the first time ever, you curse your husband.
“I’m gonna have to return to the office soon.” Jimin says while you both are having dinner at home.
You nod. You know it’s inevitable and he would have to return to the company soon. It’s just a matter of time.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay at home?” He asks and you roll your eyes.
“I have three helpers and six bodyguards now, what exactly can happen to me?” You shake your head with a smile. Since your return home, he’d increased the amount of staffs and bodyguards assigned to you.
He reaches for your hand and smiles apologetically. “It’s for your own safety.”
You nod at him. “I know.”
It’s silent after that until he puts down his cutleries. “I’ve been thinking.. perhaps it’s time for me to step down from being the mafia leader.. BTS.”
You swallow but doesn’t say anything.
“I just thought that.. if I want to have a proper marriage with you and start a real family.. well, it won’t help if the father’s constantly targeted by enemies.”
You take a deep breath. “I.. it’s up to you. I... I don’t really... know..”
He gives you a quick smile. “Of course I can’t just put my feet down and wash my hand completely but.. I’ll try to pull back and not step in unless it’s really needed.”
“What does.. you know, BTS do anyways?”
He smiles wickedly. “You wanna know?”
You suddenly think it’s a very bad idea. “I.. I don’t know.. Do you.. do you just- you know.. take people out for fun? Or..”
He chuckles. “No.. no we don’t do that. If it assures you, we don’t kill innocent people. We.. offer like a service, like a hired mercenary to take out people or do some work for the government when they don’t want their hands dirty but they’re all evil people. Those that we.. take out. And doing those kind of things inevitably give you enemies.. but we try not to engage in gang fights unless they start it first.”
You feel a shiver run down your spine. “O... kay..”
His lips quirk up at you. “And that’s it. The rest of the details.. let’s just say they’re unnecessary for you to know.” He stand up then and leans in to peck your forehead quickly. “I’ll be in the study.” He says. You stay in your seat for a moment longer, processing the details of your conversation with your husband. You appreciate that he’s being honest with you a lot more now and doesn’t keep things from you but you can’t help the goosebumps that start to form on your arms whenever he tells you things about the dark side.
It’s been about a week since Jimin has started working at the office again. You fork at your food, no longer having the appetite to finish it. Because you’re too nervous to say something to your husband. You keep glancing at him as he eats that one night, trying to gauge his mood and gathering your courage all at the same time.
Finally, you take a deep breath. “Can I go out with Jungkook tomorrow?”
He doesn’t answer immediately.
You want to go out with Jungkook. You and him had talked a lot about arts before. And this afternoon, he texted you about an art school he found that you’ve been searching for.
“What for?” He asks.
“What do you mean what for?”
He narrows his eyes. “Why do you want to go out with him?”
“I.. have something to.. buy?” You cock your head to one side.
“Isn’t Taeseok enough? You can take him or even Daniel with you. Are you even well enough to go out?”
“It’s been a month since I’ve been discharged..” you pout. “Please..?”
“I’ll come with you then.”
“No! I know you have an important meeting tomorrow. Besides, I’ll be fine with Jungkook.”
There’s a reason why you want Jungkook to come with you. And also because you want to buy your husband a gift. But you can’t tell him that.
He glares. “It’s dangerous to go out with a gang member. Jungkook’s a kid. I don’t trust him with you.”
You struggle not to roll your eyes. “Jimin, I’m literally the same age with him.”
“That makes two kids then.”
You sigh in exasperation. “Jimin please..”
He clenches his jaw. “Fine. If anything happens, I’m not gonna be there.” And with that, he storms out of the kitchen.
You feel like crying. You’ve been getting along so good with him lately and now you’ve ruined it. You have no idea why he’s being so irrelevant. If anything, Jungkook’s probably the best at hand combat, or second best to Jimim at least, you can’t compare due to their different combat style. But nevertheless, he’s highly skilled despite his young age.
You sigh.
“Hey Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “He’ll come around.”
You smile sadly.
“He’ll realize he’s being stupid so no worries okay?”
You smile at his words then nod. Alright, it’ll be very rude to Jungkook if you keep being out of it when you’re here with him.
“We’re here.” He says as the car pulls into the parking lot. You look out the window. It’s an art school for the special kids. You can’t believe he really found the place for it. You have to thank him or the BTS connections.
When you and Jungkook enters, you are both greeted by one of the school teacher. She brings you both for a tour around the place and you’ve never felt so fascinated with everything.
The reason why you’re searching for this kind of school is because you want to donate to the school. You received a huge sum of insurance money after being hospitalized which you’ve no idea when and how your husband registered for it.
You briefly mentioned about searching for the school to Jungkook because for some reason you feel like he can find anything. And he did.
You thought perhaps Jungkook may feel bored coming out with you. But he seems even more enthusiastic than you. You know he’s very much talented in arts because Jimin has one of his painting back at home and it’s super gorgeous. But you don’t know that he knows this much about arts. He also explains how the school operates from business perspective that leaves you in awe. He really is a businessman that does his research. You smile when you see him play with kids, he’s super kind with them. He bought art sets for a lot of the students which unfortunately was not enough for everyone so he promised he’ll send more for the rest of the kids. Jungkook’s a really nice kid, you think. You smile sheepishly thinking you didn’t bring anything for them.
When the tour with the art school is done, you drag Jungkook to do some shopping with you. For some reason, you feel like buying your husband a gift. Simply because he had been such a huge support ever since you were hospitalized. It’s the only way you could think of to repay him for all the amount of things he had made easier for you and the understanding he shows without having you to say a word.
It’s almost dark when you finally reach home that night. As soon as you step out of the car, you feel slightly disoriented and would’ve doubled over the ground if it wasn’t because of Taeseok, your bodyguard who was trailing from behind immediately holding you.
“Are you alright, Mrs. Park?”
You nod. “Just a little lightheaded.” You quickly dismiss it and enter the house.
Once you’ve finished showering, you set out to search for Jimin. He wasn’t in the bedroom. You head to his study. Still empty. You frown, wondering where he is. You set back downstairs and once again you almost lost balance completely, the stairs’ image doubling for a split second.
What’s with the sudden headache? You almost want to ask your head.
Head still spinning, you head towards the lounge room and from outside the room, you hear the muffled sound from the TV. When you enter, you see your husband in his pyjama pants and casual T-shirt. He’s watching TV, which is very rare, you think.
He briefly glances at you as you make your way towards him but makes no effort to say anything.
“Jimin..? Are you still mad at me?”
He doesn’t look up. You stand awkwardly beside him.
“I’m back in one piece.” You try to joke.
He glares at this. Oops, not funny it seems.
You hesitantly sit next to him. “Can I borrow your hand?” When he won’t look at you, you take his hand in yours. And suddenly his head snaps towards you when you’re about to reach for the gift behind you. You gasp when he clasped his fingers tighter. Then his other hand touches your forehead.
“Why are you so hot?” He asks.
“Am I?” You giggle. The question sounds a little funny.
He rolls his eyes then proceeds to touch your neck. “You’re having a fever.”
“Am I?”
He narrows his eyes at you, clearly not finding the situation funny. “I let you out with the kid for a day and you come home sick.”
“It’s not his fault..”
He narrows his eyes at you and you shut your mouth immediately. “Stay here. I’ll fetch the thermometer.” You reach for his hand immediately.
“Please sit down. I have something to give you.”
He frowns but does as he’s told.
Smiling, you reach for the gift. “I bought something for you today..” He stares as you open it and gently place it on his wrist. “It’s not that expensive like your other watches.. but um.. It’s a watch and a bracelet. With our name...”
He stares at the gift. Then he looks at you softly. “Thank you. I love it.” He leans forward very, very slowly and even though you can anticipate it, your heart is not ready. He plants a kiss on your forehead and you feel your own heart rate picking up. You think you’ll faint at any second. Your rapid heartbeat and a buzzing head, not a good combination.
“Are you still mad at me?” Your eyes almost flutter close.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not mad, idiot. I’m just worried.” He puts a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s very easy for you to be targeted if you’re out with the members.. I don’t want to put you through any of that ever again because of me..”
You shut your eyes. Because your husband’s soft voice is really like a lullaby. Also because you can’t hold it anymore. You fell into into his arms and he catches you easily.
He gently carries you in his arms to the bedroom. His heart full of adoration for you.
Tumblr media
I’m bad at writing fluffs but I hope this is super sweet and smooth like butter to make you guys smile 🤣 also, thanks for the warm words in previous chapters 🥺 you guys are amazing!!!!!
Buy me a cup of coffee here! 💜
Link to Chapter 23
Posted on 210522 9:00PM
124 notes · View notes
wondernimbus · 4 years ago
Text
c’est magnifique — oliver wood
pairing: oliver wood x female!reader
prompt: when reader doesn’t get into the slytherin quidditch team because of one marcus flint, her boyfriend decides to take matters into his own hands.
a/n: online classes r finally OVER!! i'll be able to work on you guys’ reqs now hehe
Tumblr media
Marcus Flint—Slytherin's Quidditch team captain—is, for lack of a better word, an absolute prick, and [Y/N] is having absolutely none of it.
"That's rubbish!" she says incredulously, her hands throwing themselves in the air out of pure frustration. "You know as well as I do that I played better than Malfoy, and now you're telling me that he got on the team and I barely did? As a reserve?"
Flint rolls his eyes. "But you didn't give the team brand new brooms—Malfoy did." His sneer contorts into a sympathetic simper as he claps her on the shoulder; [Y/N] recoils, glaring daggers at him. "Try out again next time when you actually have something to offer. Until then.. you'd be better off watching in the stands."
"Something to offer?" she repeats, mouth actually falling open in blatant disbelief. "I've got more to 'offer' than Malfoy ever will! Actual Quidditch skills, for one, and Malfoy can barely even stay on his bloody broomstick!"
"Which, mind you, is an expensive broomstick—the same one the rest of the team has, all because of good old Lucius." Flint nods ostentatiously, like he thinks leeching off of the Malfoys' money is something to be proud of. [Y/N]'s brows are knitted together in pure incredulity as she stares up at him, shaking her head in disbelief. "So cry me a river and be on your merry way. I've got class to go to."
[Y/N] seethes through her teeth and wonders what the consequences of punching someone in a middle of a busy hallway would be. Detention, that was for sure, but what kind?
Staring up at Flint, [Y/N] realizes that she hardly cares what kind of detention she'll be receiving as long as she can put him in his place.
"I could hit you right now."
"Oh, yeah?"
She takes a step closer to him, egged on by the white-hot anger clouding her better judgment. "You don't think I can?"
"Please. You can barely even reach me without tip-toeing." Flint lets out a deprecating laugh and reaches out to shove her by the shoulder—
Whack!
There's a sickening crunch as the sound of a fist colliding with someone's jaw cuts through the air. Flint falls to the ground, groaning in pain.
But [Y/N] hasn't even as much as raised her arm. Her eyes are wide as she watches Oliver Wood—the perpetrator—pull Flint to his feet, wrenching him up by the collar and almost tearing it off his robes. She gapes as he pushes Flint up to the wall and, with the angriest glare [Y/N] has ever seen him wear, Oliver hisses through his teeth, "Stay away from her, you foul git."
Flint's eyes are wide with fear, but then his eyes dart around the hallway to see the countless students who have stopped in their tracks to witness the scene unfold. Hogwarts students, it seems, won't pass up a chance for some good gossip—which is exactly what this is: Oliver Wood defending his girlfriend against the pompous Marcus Flint.
Flint hangs onto what little pride he has left and fixes his face into a sneer, smacking Wood's hand away. "Whatever," he grumbles, shoving past him to stalk off down the hallway.
[Y/N] is still very much riled up, but her concern wins over her anger and she rushes to Oliver, quickly grabbing the hand he'd used to punch Flint and skimming her thumb over his knuckles. "Oliver," she sighs, frowning, her tone almost reprimanding. A bruise is already forming on his hand; he winces when she accidentally presses down on it. "You didn't have to do that," she mutters, glancing up at him, and despite her words, she can't help the rush of gratitude surging through her.
Oliver is glaring after Flint's retreating figure, jaw set and his gaze angry. But at [Y/N]'s words, his eyes soften and he looks down at her, pulling his hand away. "Bloody arsehole deserved it," he glowers, and then his voice goes gentle as he grips her shoulders and asks, "Are you alright? He didn't hit you, did he?"
[Y/N]  shakes her head. Most of her initial anger is already fading away—an effect that Oliver always has on her—and, her tone slightly playful, she says pointedly, "I was about to hit him, though, until you stepped in."
Oliver sighs, an exasperated smile resting on his lips as he pulls her into him and presses a kiss to her forehead.
"You want us to what?"
Oliver stares at the Weasley twins resolutely over the Gryffindor table. "Put sleeping draught in his drink or something, I don't know. You lot know a great deal more about the—er—methods.. than I do. Just make sure Malfoy won't be able to play in the match next week."
Fred and George share a meaningful look. A moment later, the pair of them are breaking out into identical mischievous grins. "We thought you'd never ask!" beams Fred, eyes gleaming in a way that suggests he's been waiting for this moment his entire life.
"Those Slytherbins have been playing far too dirty for too long—it's time we retaliate," says George through a bite of toast, nodding earnestly. Leaning forward, he asks, “Mind telling us why, though?”
“Yeah, we’d like to know why exactly we’re doing your dirty work.”
“And why you’ve turned to evil ways instead of fair play.”
Oliver shrugs casually, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. It’s at that moment that he catches eye of a certain someone entering the Great Hall. It’s [Y/N], and her gaze meets his immediately; her lips break out into a grin and she strides towards where he’s sitting on the Gryffindor table with the twins.
”Good morning, girlfriend,” Oliver grins, standing up to greet her with a chaste kiss.
“Morning, love."
“Ah, young love,” gushes Fred, propping his chin on his palm.
“C’est magnifique,” says George. “Hey, [Y/N], did you get into the Slytherin team?”
”Yeah, what position did you try out for again?”
[Y/N] unwinds her arms from Oliver’s middle to turn to the twins. “Seeker,” she answers, swiftly grabbing a piece of buttered toast from the table. “And I got in the team—“
”You did?“ George cuts her off, puzzled. “But I thought Malfoy—“
“As a reserve,” continues [Y/N], visibly deflating, the expression on her face souring as she takes a bite of toast. "But it's alright. I got in the team nonetheless. Let's just hope Malfoy gravely injures himself and won't be able to play—kidding, of course," she adds smoothly, but the angry way she's chewing her toast suggests that maybe she isn't entirely joking.
Fred and George, meanwhile, have caught on. They glance at Oliver, who quirks his eyebrows up at them as though to say so you get it now?
And yes, they bloody well do.
On the day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, Draco Malfoy is sent to the hospital wing. No one knows for sure why, but word has leaked of boils having mysteriously erupted somewhere in his nether regions that have rendered him unable to walk, much less fly around on a broomstick.
Surprised and elated beyond belief, [Y/N] dashes into the Great Hall that morning and practically throws herself at Oliver, squealing in joy as she slings her arms around his neck and starts breathlessly gushing on and on about "Quidditch—I'm going to play today—I'm going to be on the pitch!"
Oliver, grinning wildly, grasps onto her waist and twirls her around with little to no effort. [Y/N] can't stop the breathless laughs that tumble out from her mouth; the thought of actually being able to play in a real Quidditch game with hundreds of people watching has her almost dizzy with excitement. "I'm going to play," she says, out of breath as Oliver sets her down, hands still on her waist. Her eyes are wide and there is a smile on her face that doesn't seem like it will go away anytime soon.
"Against me," Oliver reminds her teasingly, and everything about him from the look in his eyes to the tiny smile on his lips is bursting with fondness. "I do hope you won't try to knock me off of my broom. I've fallen for you already—no need to have me do it again."
Grinning, [Y/N] rolls her eyes and pulls a face at him. "Oh, ha-ha." She feigns a feisty look, nose scrunching in a poor attempt at intimidation; "I am going to kick your arse, Oliver Wood. Mark my words."
Oliver laughs. "Alright, sweetheart. Consider them marked."
"BOTH SEEKERS HAVE SPOTTED THE SNITCH! And they're zooming off—Potter and [Y/L/N] are neck and neck—everyone is on their feet—Potter seems to be lagging behind—[Y/L/N] is four feet ahead—SHE'S GOT THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN'S ONLY DECENT PLAYER HAS DONE IT!"
"Jordan!"
"Sorry, professor. [Y/L/N]—I mean, Slytherin wins!"
Oliver Wood practically hurtles towards the ground, tripping over his feet as he kicks his broom away in a mad dash to the other side of the pitch, where the Slytherins are. But contrary to many people's expectations, the look on the Gryffindor team captain's face isn't disappointed or angry at their loss—no, surprisingly, Oliver seems happier than anyone else on the field.  
He spots her from a few feet away standing amidst a throng of Slytherins, all of whom look pleasantly thrilled save for a certain Marcus Flint. She meets his gaze and the grin on her face, if possible, widens; dropping her broom on the grass, she runs toward Oliver, and much like she'd done earlier that morning, throws her arms around his neck, squealing.
"I did it!" [Y/N] says breathlessly, eyes wide. "I caught the snitch!"
Oliver has never felt more proud in his life. His chest swelling with so much joy and fondness it feels as though his heart is about to burst, he grins right back at her and places his hand on the back of her head, pressing their foreheads together, noses brushing as they smile excitedly at each other and everything else in the Quidditch pitch seems to fade into a blur. "You did it," says Oliver, and then he's leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers, smiling into her mouth.
When they pull away, everyone is hooting and cheering. A certain pair of redheaded twins are standing off a few feet away, sighing.
"Ah, young love," says Fred.
"C'est magnifique," says George.
2K notes · View notes
miraculouscontent · 4 years ago
Note
I’m almost afraid to ask but what happened in the episode?
Full summary time (get sad and angry in advance):
(stating for the record, I do NOT want to see Marinette salt in the reblogs or replies)
- Gabriel is mixing ingredients to fix the peacock miraculous. Duusu emerges when he puts it on and exclaims that she feels so much better, like she was in a nightmare before where she got into evil hands. Nooroo dejectedly tells Duusu that it's not a nightmare and Gabriel transforms.
- Cut to Marientte. She's trying to figure out the Miracle Box and Tikki is trying on little hats. Marinette asks if the kwami are inside and Tikki says "yes," though apart from Duusu and Nooroo. Marinette asks about Fu letting them out, but Tikki tells her that only those with a holder can go out. Marinette worries about the Miracle Box being cramped for them, but Tikki assures her that there's a parallel universe inside for them, though admits that it's more interesting being out with her.
- Marinette pushes the top button on the box, causing the kwami to emerge and go free. Marinette screams, falls, then questions why they came out, to which Tikki says that the box is in her likeness now that she's guardian: full of surprises!
- Trixx is reading her diary, Daizzi is flicking her lamp on and off, Ziggy is playing with her phone (which is currently showing that Luka is trying to call her), and Kaalki phases through the window to look outside. Marinette hurries to grab Kaalki, but a child notices her and Marinette comes up with a quick excuse about Kaalki being a toy that's not for sale.
- Xuppu and Stompp are playing on Marinette's keyboard, flicking on the news, then Alya calls Marinette from the monitor. Marinette hurries over and Alya is concerned at her clear panic, but Marinette simply asks if she likes her plushie. Alya doesn't see Kaalki at all and Tikki explains that kwami can't be seen or heard through technology, leading Marinette to lament that she just looks silly. All this time, there's been a flashing in the background, and Ziggy notes that what Tikki says makes sense because she can't be seen on "this magic painting" (flipping Marinette's phone over to show that all the camera took was her Adrien wall).
- Rose asks to see the plushies and Marinette feigns ignorance. She then panics more and her friends are concerned. Roaar questions how her friends got inside the image on the monitor. Daizzi comments that they're cute and wants Alya specifically to be their wielder. Trixx insists that she's taken and Mullo complains/wonders why Trixx is allowed a wielder and not them.
- Alya, already exasperated, says that she's being weirder than usual. Marinette excuses it with talk of getting exercise and Alya pieces together (in the rudest way possible) that all of Marinette's absurdities must mean--and all the girls chime in to ask if Marinette is at Adrien's house.
- The phone rings and Ziggy throws it. Marinette catches it and stammers, "LUKA!" then fumbles with the phone before it hits her keyboard and shuts the call off. The girls sigh, "Lukaaaaa," and Juleka mumbles something unintelligible, leading all the girls to exclaim that, "It's so cute!" (I--...sure, okay, just flip flop to whatever and have no proper reaction.)
- Meanwhile, Marinette answers the phone and Luka thanks her for the picture. She doesn't understand and Luka explains that she texted him a picture of her room--and Adrien. Marinette scrolls through her messages to see that Ziggy had sent him the picture she had taken earlier of her wall.
- Marinette panics and tries to excuse it by saying that it's a series of fashion pictures for her blog and wanted his opinion, in the process accidentally calling him "Adrien." Luka chimes back that "his name is actually Luka," and Marinette panics further, doing the same thing again before correcting herself, rambling on and on until she says, "it's just that I cheated on you--I mean, I got confused!"
- Luka insists that it's fine and asks if she's ready. She doesn't get it and Luka tells her that they have a date (Sabine is also going upstairs to see Marinette directly despite Luka literally being on the phone with her). Marinette hurriedly shoves all the kwami in the box and stashes them away, begging them to be nice and then heading downstairs.
- Sabine asks about the date she was meant to have with Luka yesterday and she says that she forget. Luka reminds her that they'd postponed because this is the last session and they can't afford to miss it. Marinette doesn't remember what they were going to see and Tom rambles about how it came out again and "it was already so dumb fifteen years ago," leading Sabine to comment that it was his first movie. Luka admits that the movie is dumb but he and Marinette are such big fans of "his" that they swore they'd go see it together. It clicks with Marinette and she cheers excitedly about how they're going to watch Jagged Stone's first movie. Luka asks if she forgot and Marinette insists that she didn't because "she definitely didn't have other emergencies to deal with," then rushes Luka out.
- Luka and Marinette are heading to the movies and trying to compete with each other to guess song lyrics to some of Jagged Stone's songs while they're getting their drinks. They sit down in the cinema and Marinette verses Luka on a song about "my guitar is my only family," which is apparently a song he really loves. Marinette congratulates him for winning the game and calls him "officially" Jagged's biggest fan and adds that he "deserves a prize for it," giving him a pink gift box. Luka opens it and is amazed by the guitar pick necklace inside, to which Marinette explains that Jagged came to the bakery the other day so she asked him to sign it for the present.
- Luka states that the gift gives her the right for a second round and recites another song lyric. Marinette takes a moment to figure it out, then excitedly recites the remaining lyrics: "KISS ME!!!" She gets embarrassed when she realizes that she blurted it out so loudly, to which Luka smiles and says, "If that's what you want." Marinette gets sheepish at what he'd done, but agrees, saying that... yes, she wants to.
- The kiss is interrupted by an akuma attack and Marinette has to make an excuse to get away. Tikki questions her if she's going to leave Luka alone (...seriously? we’re doing this now???) and Marinette points out that she can't tell him the truth.
- Ladybug shows up on the scene to what seems to be Mister Pigeon (he's not shown but it's an airplane made of pigeons), and she's listening to a message from Chat Noir that she presumably got earlier, stating that he's ready for patrol. While she's listening, Chat Noir sneaks up and pranks/surprises her, to which she grabs his wrist and yeets him off into the distance. Realizing what she did, she yoyos him back and he slams into the window. She scolds him because she could've hurt him and Chat Noir states that "the only thing that hurts him is when she leaves him alone for patrols" and how he "even missed her angry looks." She reminds him that she's been busy and he says that he knows because she's guardian now. Ladybug promises not to forget patrol again and they go off to fight Mister Pigeon.
- Cut back to Luka, who's feeling sad because the movie is over and Marinette still isn't there. Marinette returns and makes another excuse, to which Luka just smiles sadly. Cue montage of Marinette getting ice cream with him, him picking her up from school on his bike, both of which end with her having to rush off. Cut to a scene on the Liberty where Luka is about to dedicate a song to Marinette, "a girl..." and then looks to see that she hasn't arrived "...who, as always, isn't here." Marinette does show up, but the damage is done.
- Later, Marinette and Luka are walking along underneath a bridge while Marinette is making another excuse. Luka shushes her and tells her to listen to the water because if you're in this exact place, you can "hear a melody." Marinette listens for it and calms herself, after which Luka explains that he never knew who his father was and his mother never wanted to tell him who he was, so whenever he was upset over it, he'd go there to think. He asks her where she goes when she disappears and Marinette struggles to answer. Luka assures her that he'll accept whatever she says and will understand if she's still in love with Adrien, adding that he won't be jealous either. Marinette tells him that "it's not, definitely not," and Luka tells her that all he asks for is the truth. Marinette, torn, has to admit that the truth is the only thing she can't tell him.
- Visual representation of Luka's heart breaking is shown (Luka turns white, black background, a zoom out, and a crackling noise). Shadow Moth sends his akuma+feather combo and it hits the necklace that Luka is wearing. Shadow Moth tries to make a deal with Luka, but Luka resists, insisting that the truth should be shared and not taken by force, also calling him "Shadow Moth." Marinette glances up at the name, confused, then apologizes and begs Luka to resist. Shadow Moth asks why Luka resists when Marinette doesn't trust him, to which Luka insists that she does. Marinette echoes that and assures Luka that she trusts him, but Shadow Moth states that - if she really trusted him - she'd tell him the truth. Luka's mental state is finally broken and he falls to his knees, only able to beg Marinette to run before he's taken over by the akumatization energy. Marinette flees and Luka transforms into Truth with his sentimonster Pharo.
- Marinette transforms into Ladybug and then the scene cuts to Truth landing on the Liberty. Pharo traps Alya in its spotlight, freezing her in place, after which Truth shoots her, turning her lips white. He asks her what Marinette's secret is and Alya says that she's in love with Adrien. Truth tells her that that's not a secret and shoots Mylene next, who says the same thing. Frustrated, Truth insists that it can't be the only thing. Ladybug is hiding nearby, taking on her yoyo to Chat Noir about how Hawk Moth merged his power with the peacock to become Shadow Moth.
- Rose insists that Marinette doesn't have secrets because she's "the most honest girl in the world." Truth tries to shoot her, but Juleka jumps in the way and gets shot instead, though her answer to Luka's question is just more unintelligible mumbling. Ladybug makes herself known and Truth starts shooting her, though she dodges. She lands on the deck of the Liberty, then gasps as she notices the necklace-turned-akumatized-object on Truth. "Luka?!" (I'm just--I--she saw him being covered by akumatization energy--I--)
- Her shocked state allows for Pharo to hit her with the spotlight. Truth shoots her, but before Ladybug can blab her secret identity, Chat Noir swoops in to save her. Shadow Moth shouts at Truth to give chase, but Anarka shows up and demands to know what Truth is doing on the ship. In response, Pharo freezes Anarka and Truth shoots her, calling her "Mom" and asking who his father is. Anarka replies that it's Jagged Stone. Luka's eyes go round in disbelief and he asks again, getting the same answer. Truth apologizes to Shadow Moth, but insists that "this truth can't wait," jumping off into the distance.
- Meanwhile, Ladybug and Chat Noir have gotten out of the water that Chat and her hid in. Chat Noir assures her that he'd never try to take a secret from her by force, and Ladybug points to his belt to indicate that he hand it to her. He does so and she wraps it around her mouth to prevent her from speaking.
- Jagged Stone is playing a song for Prince Ali (by the way, the song production in this episode is terrible; Rose and Jagged since like they're trying to be off-key, made worse by the fact that Rose was singing the unicorn song that they could've just copy-pasted from "Silencer") when Pharo descends and hits him with the spotlight. Truth shows up and demands to know if he's Jagged's son, to which Jagged replies that it "depends on who he is." Ladybug and Chat Noir show up and Pharo goes after them, though Truth still manages to hit Jagged with his beam, explaining that he's Luka Couffaine and he "has a right to know the truth."
- Jagged admits that Luka is his son. This shocks Ladybug and Chat Noir, the latter of whom gets hit by Pharo's spotlight. Truth, distressed, asks Jagged why he hid it and abandoned him, to which Jagged apologizes but insists that he was "too lame to take care of a child," having spent his whole life on tour and now living in a hotel with a crocodile; he "never could have been a good father."
- ...In fact - he says - it actually resulted in a great song, unknowingly reciting one of Luka's favorites as he explains the it was, "my guitar was my only family." Truth, enraged, grabs Jagged and yeets him off into the sky. Ladybug acts quickly, hitting Pharo with her yoyo so she and Chat Noir can give chase. Shadow Moth demands that Truth go after them, but Truth apologizes and states there's still one truth left that he needs to know.
- Ladybug and Chat Noir manage to save Jagged, avoiding Pharo's eye until Jagged is properly safe. that done, they hop off, thoughTruth has already landed in Marinette's house.
- Truth hits Tom with his beam and asks what Marinette's secret is. Tom repeats the "she's in love with Adrien," line, to which Truth then shoots Sabine instead and asks if Marinette has a diary. Sabine tells him that she does and Truth marches for her room, though is briefly (very briefly) stopped by Tom.
- Meanwhile, Pharo thinks he sees Ladybug and Chat Noir and shoots them, though it was actually just some cardboard cut-outs seen earlier (Truth has a telepathic connection to it and congratulates it for its success), allowing Ladybug and Chat Noir to freely head for where Truth is.
- The kwami freak out at Truth ransacking Marinette's room and worry about Truth finding the Miracle Box. Xuppu wants to do something but Wayzz reminds him that their powers are too strong without a wielder, reminding them of when Plagg sunk Atlantis.
- Ladybug and Chat Noir arrive and Truth summons Pharo telepathically, meaning that Pharo is on its way. Ladybug indicates the necklace to Chat Noir with a tilt of her head and Chat Noir activates Cataclysm. Truth and Chat Noir go back and forth for a bit until Chat Noir tells Ladybug to use her lucky charm, to which she indicates the binding around her mouth. Chat Noir tells her to remove it because he has a plan... then gets knocked down almost immediately by Truth. Truth starts to ask for Ladybug to tell him--but Chat Noir kicks him down and finishes the question by asking about his top three qualities. Ladybug tells him that she's impressed by his self-confidence, his courage, but what she prefers most is his humor. Chat Noir and Truth go back-to-back some more and Truth tries to ask Ladybug again, but Chat knocks Truth away and finishes by asking what she uses when all seems lost. Ladybug uses Lucky Charm (no Charm suit) and gets aluminum foil.
- Pharo plows through the wall and spotlights Chat Noir. Truth shoots him and starts to ask his identity, but Ladybug blocks Pharo's eyes and cuts in to ask what Chat Noir thinks of her being guardian, to which Chat Noir states that it doesn't bother him so long as nothing changes between them.
- Chat Noir fights Truth while Ladybug covers her decorative umbrella in foil. Truth dodges Chat's Cataclysm and Ladybug intentionally pulls Pharo forward so Pharo is struck instead. Pharo proceeds to go nuts and Ladybug yoyos it and jumps on top, directing its spotlight towards the foil-covered umbrella that Chat is now holding. The light reflects onto Truth, freezing him, and Ladybug hits Truth's necklace. Cue Miraculous Ladybug.
- Ladybug and Chat Noir hop up to a roof and Chat comments on how much fun he had. Ladybug describes what just happened and is like if that's fun for you then yeah. Chat idles on Shadow Moth's name and Ladybug shows confidence that they'll catch him in the end, after which they banter a bit and Chat Noir tells her that it's "only with her that he can have so much fun."
- Cut to Marinette and Luka, now on the bridge in the location he was before. Marinette tells him that she doesn't want to lie and starts to suggest that it might be better for them to break up, but Luka steps forward and hugs her before she can say "break up" specifically. She hugs back and he assures her that he'll be there for her whenever she's ready. Marinette shuts her eyes tight, pained, and buries her face into his shoulder.
- Luka is later walking back to the Liberty, depressed, when he sees Jagged Stone idling near the gangplank. Jagged approaches, hugs him (Luka hugs back), then states that - if there's one thing he knows how to do (specifically calling Luka "son") - it's turning emotions into great songs, then suggests that he and Luka write one together. Luka smiles, though it looks a little bittersweet.
- Marinette, meanwhile, is crying on her bed, saying that - now that Shadow Moth is a threat to the people she loves - she can't have a boyfriend because it's too dangerous. The kwami approach and Kaalki expresses confusion at the "strange liquid coming out of her eyes." Trixx explains that they're tears and it's "too sad" (while the way-too-happy ending track is starting to kick in, by the way). Daizzi asks if they're meant to do something and Marinette tells them to "just give her a hug." The kwami swarm her to do just that and the episode ends.
125 notes · View notes
alfredosauce50 · 4 years ago
Text
Ghost of jealousy [Possessive! America x reader]
Wordcount: 5,545 Synopsis: Alfred gets upset when he finds you hanging around Mathias during his Halloween party. You tell him he’s your friend, but everything escalates into an argument, so he takes it outside to his car. He regrets everything he’s done, but you refuse to talk to him while he drives off to find some lodging for the night—an old inn. While you avoid him by staying in a separate room, it becomes apparent there’s something very off about this place. Something otherworldly. Will he make it up to you by saving you before something terrible happens? 
(I was inspired by this song by Michael Jackson, “Ghosts”) The reader is referred to as she/her.
It didn’t bother you that Alfred always disappeared during his parties. He was the host, after all, and you were merely another attendee, boyfriend or not. There were guests to interact with, excitement to arouse, and the general gist of event-running. So while he was off doing his business, you loitered around in the kitchen with one of your friends. You were dressed as a mermaid, with a seashell bra and all, while Mathias was in his pirate get-up.
Here away from the incessant pounding of Halloween classics and chatter, you could actually hear him talk. "I think it’s cute that we’re matching! Are you sure you didn’t wear this on purpose just so we could look like a couple?" He grinned, earning a small gasp from you.
"Hey! It’s not my problem you wear the same thing every year, Mathias. I—on the other hand, change it up." You gloated a little at that, giving his hip a light bump. He had been sipping a cup of punch, but spilled some as a result. "Ah! Jeez.” Because it was so dark, with only jack-o-lanterns and fairy lights to illuminate the house, you never even realized.
"What’s wrong?”
"Why don’t you smell my coat to find out?” He hummed mischievously. Cupping a hand around your head, he pulled you in and pressed your face against a mysterious wet patch.
"Ew! What was that?!" You pulled away and rubbed your cheek as he exploded into a fit of laughter.
"... Juice?"
"That’s right, min prinsesse. And it’s all your fault." Leaning in with his hands on his hips, he tapped your nose. A dash of guilt was present in your eyes, so he quickly added this. "Don’t look so stressed, (F/N)! I always forgive what you do to me. Mostly. This time, if you wanna make up for it, you’ll have to go to our after-party for once!"
You blinked. "After-party? You mean with just you and Lukas and everyone?" He nodded excitedly. The question was innocent enough, but really, you had another concern in the back of your mind. Every year, you and Alfred would spend a night together after the festivities. You could only imagine how upset he’d get if that didn’t happen. He always valued the time together with you, even to the point of being a little excessive. "Mm... I don’t know. Alfred and I usually do something afterward. I’ll ask him."
His wide grin faltered a touch. Alfred this, Alfred that. Mathias couldn’t exactly say he was jealous—though he’d joke about it, a lot—but wasn’t he a little controlling sometimes? "Mm, mm. Not good enough. I won’t take no for an answer!" Scooping you up in a bridal style carry, you let out a small yelp and reached out for his neck to stabilize yourself. "Let the King of Scandinavia save you from the evil clutches of American capitalism!"
"Mathias, you idiot!" You hissed through a flustered expression, but you couldn’t deny you were enjoying yourself. While he laughed away, bouncing you in his arms, you bonked him on the head numerous times. "Put. Me. Down!"
"Ow. Ah! Okay, okay, stop hitting me!" The Dane was as big of a goofball as your boyfriend, but just less serious most of the time. That was right. As your relationship with Alfred progressed, he was less easy-going than he initially seemed. More stubborn. Argumentative. And you never imagined how soon you would see this side of him.
"What’s this about saving (F/N) from the evil clutches of American capitalism?"
The chorus of you and Mathias’s laughter came to an abrupt end. Uh oh. Turning to the voice, you found yourself staring at none other than your boyfriend, dressed in a long orange coat with a Jason Vorhee's mask on the side of his head. And his arms were crossed with an unamused expression. Only then did you feel yourself get set down to the floor. Great. "Alfred, hey! We were just talking about his after-party. You know, the one where they have a lego-building contest?"
"Mhm. Sounds fun. But we’re doing something even better." Reaching out to your hand, he pulled you away from your friend, much to your displeasure. Mathias didn’t look all too happy either. Alfred then managed a small smile, but it was a little strained. "So c’mon, babe. Most of the party’s events are ending, anyway. Let’s go to my car." He squeezed you in his grip and turned to leave, all with you in tow.
But you weren’t having it. Couldn’t he at least let you explain yourself a little better, considering how upset he seemed already? You stopped, the action pulling on his arm so he would too. "Wait, Al. He asked if I wanted to go, and I kinda want to. Just this one time, please? Lukas, Berwald, Tino, and Emil are gonna be there too—" The fact that you were listing all these names only made it blatantly obvious who was in right, and who was in the wrong.
All you were asking for was some time with your friends. But he played the jealous boyfriend role all too well.
He turned to you with a frown. It was annoying enough to see Mathias carrying you like that. But going to a sleepover with him? He couldn’t be any less enthusiastic. "No, (F/N). Halloween is our thing. We’re supposed to spend the night together like we always do." Reaching out to your cheek, he caressed it gently. "You can hang out with them any other day of the year. Just not today."
Unlike other times, you didn’t give in. He already showed up with an attitude, so sweet-talking wasn’t going to cut it. Especially when you felt Mathias’s hand on your shoulder. The thought that he was behind you and trying to calm you down only egged you on to stand your ground. "Any other day? You’d have to exclude Valentine’s Day, Christmas, New Year’s, and St. Patty’s as well. I never get to celebrate them with my friends, either, so can’t you let me go this one time?"
The room fell silent. Even with the Dane’s friends present, nobody spoke a word. And nobody had to because they all shared one thought.
Alfred was being way too controlling.
Almost as if he could read their minds, he felt himself crumble under their scrutiny. "I’m not talking about this here with you." Without another word, he pulled you out of the house against your will.
"And why not? Is it because Mathias is here?" You retorted, feeling bile rise in your throat.
Once you and he disappeared out the door, Lukas made a brief comment.
"... He really has to stop doing that." 
“Yep. Man, I wish he’d just step on a lego." The blonde heaved out a sigh. 
"Fair enough."
Once Alfred managed to get you outside his car, he turned to you to finally give you an answer. "And what if it is because he’s there, (F/N)?" He exasperated, already feeling his tongue start slipping now that he was alone with you. And his words only held more impact against the deafening silence of the night. "The reason why I don’t want you hanging out with them on special occasions is cuz’ he’s in the group.”
“Why? Do you hate him or something? But that’s got nothing to do with me!" You ripped your hand from his grip to see his eyes widen with shock. This was the first time you ever lashed out, so he could already feel the inklings of regret well in his chest. He should’ve just shut his trap and let you go.
But something told him he would’ve never let that happen.
"They’re my friends, Alfred! You can’t expect me to pass on every invite they give me just because you don’t like someone!"
He dug his hands through his sandy locks of hair stressfully. 
"That’s the thing! Mathias obviously doesn’t just wanna be friends with you! He likes you, I can tell!" He yelled. 
The cat was finally out of the bag now. What had been plaguing his mind for months was this—competition. And he hoped that admitting it would somehow get you to understand his behavior, no matter how uncalled for it had been.
But you didn’t. You refused to.
Your jaw dropped, but not out of surprise. Instead, it was pure disappointment. "Even if he did, are you saying you don’t trust me with him?" You scoffed, folding your arms at him.
At this point, Alfred knew how bad he fucked up.
"No, that’s not what I—" His brows knitted together, and his cerulean blue eyes welled with moisture. "I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just..." But it was.
Wasn’t it?
Otherwise, why else was he so possessive of you?
"It’s exactly what you meant. If it wasn’t, you’d be defending yourself by now." A small smile curled up at your lips, and it was from anything but mirth. It was your defense mechanism to keep the waterworks at bay, but even that had failed you. The tears finally came spilling over the rim, streaming down your face as he watched on with guilt.
"Even if you hate him, he’s not what you think he is. It wouldn’t matter if he loved me. He wouldn’t do anything because he respects me." Reaching up to your eyes, you rubbed them, but the effort was in vain as you let out a sob. "If you’re so quick to doubt me, then maybe..." You struggled to string together the words as you continued to cry. "Maybe we shouldn’t..."
Maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore. 
Alfred froze. Anything but that. And yet, you had all the right in the world to think of ending things. But his heart couldn’t take it.
"No, no, no... Don’t you finish that sentence..." You would probably hate him after this, but kissing you was what he first thought of. The connection between his and your lips managed to silence you, and the close proximity let you feel the waves of heat radiating from his face. And he continued to kiss you, gently, for as long as you let him until you decided to shove him away.
"Don’t." You whispered faintly, albeit firmly. Leaving his side to get into the passenger seat of his car, you buckled yourself up and turned to the window.
He breathed out a sigh, but joined you in the driver’s seat. Facing you with remorse so deep, it made his eyes droop. "You know I love you, right?"
You were still crying, and you never spared him so little as a single glance.
He royally screwed up, for sure. 
The engine purred to life. Now, to find a place to stay for the night. Hopefully, he could make up with you before lights out. But his gut told him it wouldn’t be so simple. The car began to move, crushing sticks and leaves under the wheels as he drove on a dirt path deep in the woods. He picked this cabin for the ominous ambiance, but he was beginning to regret his choices. The same could be said for everything he did tonight, hell, the same could be said for how he acted all these months.
He was the jealous, insecure, shitty boyfriend.
And the whole time, he never realized how kind you were to put up with him.
He wanted to tell you he trusted you. To pull you into his arms and apologize a million times. But what could he say to convince you when he’d come off as a liar? Even he didn’t know if he could be honest. Why did Mathias’s presence get him to feel like this, anyway? He boiled it down to how similar he was to him. Like you always said, he and Mathias were two of the same person. Loud, fun, and obnoxious sweethearts. So of course he started comparing himself to him.
And he was doing it right now. He couldn’t imagine Mathias ever having these kinds of problems if he dated you. Fuck. Aside from self-loathing and bitter regret, he was beginning to feel the beginnings of ugly jealousy all over again.
Are you serious right now, Alfred? He thought. 
Narrowing his eyes on the road that seemed to disappear, he slowed to a stop. Was it just him losing concentration over these thoughts, or did he really lose his way? Perhaps. But at least he found something. He peered around his windshield to see a few rooftops resembling an old, vintage villa in the distance. Could that possibly be a motel?
He sped up and drove closer and closer until he reached a clearing. Climbing out of his car with you trailing close behind, he made his way to the entrance of the establishment. There was an open lawn in front of the building, and in one of the gardens stood a wooden sign with "The Aura Inn" inscribed into it. Neither of you thought much of it, let alone read the little sub-paragraph of text below it.
"Let’s go." Looking at you over his shoulder, he held out a hand for you to take. You just brushed past him and kept walking. Right. He forgot for a second that you were mad at him.
The only thing that concerned you was having somewhere to stay the night, so the reception was the first stop. Making up with him could come later.
Upon arriving, you were greeted by nothing but an empty room. There was no furniture besides a wooden counter, and even then, it was lacking quite a few amenities. There was no receptionist here either, and yet, the lights were on. That could only mean one thing. Somebody was here, just not in a way you liked. But you were just overthinking, weren’t you? Needless to say, this inn was starting to feel a little off to you.
Gripping the scales of your mermaid dress, you turned to Alfred with a nervous glance. Immediately, he responded with a reassuring smile.
"You okay, babe?"
Hold on. Did he just call you babe? Your mood went sour when you felt yourself nearly give in to him. What he did couldn’t be forgiven so easily, otherwise, how could he take your feelings seriously? So you forced yourself to lie.
"Yes." You murmured. "I’m perfectly fine."
He knew you were lying, but he couldn’t blame you.
"Okay. I’ll just... Get us a room. I think this is an Airbnb." He pulled out his phone.
The thought of sleeping in the same bed as him irked you, to say the least. After the stunt he pulled today, which effectively stopped you from going to Mathias’s after-party, you needed some space. That was right. How come after all these years, you’ve never been to one of his infamous after-parties? Even though you were a close friend of his? It was simple. Because Alfred never let you go. God, thinking about it just made you relive the anger all over again. 
So before he finished the booking, you reached out for his arm.
"Wait. I don’t want to be in the same room as you."
He paused, and you saw sadness flash in his eyes. And once again, you found yourself tempted to cave. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.
"... Oh. Sure." Alfred finished with the online forms and walked you to your room. The halls were long, winding, and dimly-lit. You would’ve thanked him for accompanying you in this unsettling place, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Once you managed to open the door, which wasn’t locked, he gave you a reluctant goodbye. Resting his arms against the doorframe, he gazed down at you with a bittersweet smile. "Night, babe. I’ll see you in the morning—"
The door slammed in his face and he cringed.
"... Love you too." He murmured, clenching his fists against the door. This was by far the worst argument he’s ever had with you, and it was all his fault.
Pressing your back against the door, you felt blood rush up to your face after hearing what he said. He nearly had you. But you managed to seal yourself away in the safety of your room. It hurt to push him away, but you had to. He couldn’t keep having his way. Alfred needed to accept the consequences of his actions, and you needed to be strong enough for that to happen. 
And plus, he needed to get used to not having you around him all the time. But the boy was excessively clingy, and you let this carry on for far too long. 
Unpacking your things on the bed, you got your things ready for a shower. As you melted into the hot embrace of the water, your concerns of this inn melted away too. It was just Halloween jitters, wasn’t it? Turning off the faucet, you dried yourself off with a towel before getting dressed. When you exited the bathroom, your room was plunged into almost pitch-black darkness. But you never turned off the lights.
Perhaps this was an energy-saving function. 
Well, it saved you from the effort of going to the light switch, anyhow. 
Before you moved from your spot, you shuddered at the feeling of a cold draft blowing against your body. Looking over to the source, you were shocked to see that the door was wide open, letting the dim halls stare back at you. 
There was probably a little wind tonight, and somehow, you didn’t shut the door properly. Making your way to close it again, you made sure you heard a little click. When you did, you didn’t feel any wind from outside at all, not even a gentle breeze. 
Weird. 
Setting your things down on the bedside table, you climbed into bed and tucked yourself in. While you made yourself comfortable, you faced the entirety of the room, which had a small wall-mounted TV, rocking chair, and desk. Of course there was a rocking chair. And you somehow couldn’t tear your gaze away from its faint outline in the dark. 
Then, it began to rock. 
Forwards and backward as if an invisible entity was sitting in it. 
“!” Your blood ran cold and you buried your head underneath the blanket. Something was in the room with you. Unlike before, you couldn’t blame it on the wind because you just closed the door. As you came to terms with that reality, the icy hands of fear gripped around your heart. Your breathing grew ragged and uneven. There was something behind you. Someone behind you. 
You could practically feel their presence creeping towards you. Closer and closer to your bed as the carpet compressed under its footsteps. Your chest constricted when you felt the bed dip under a weight. 
Then, it began to crawl. 
But you were too terrified to scream, let alone move. 
In that moment, you never regretted your decisions this much in your life. And you never wished more for Alfred to be with you.  
Unbeknownst to him as he finished up with his own shower in his room, you were left paralyzed in bed. If he’d known what was happening, he would have run to you as fast as he could. But he didn’t. He only assumed you were busy brooding over him, and maybe even second-guessing your relationship with him. The thought was reasonable, and that upset him to no end. Throwing his towel to a random spot in the room, he fell on his back onto the bed. 
Reaching out to the ceiling to stare at his arm, he sighed. 
“I’m so sorry...” He murmured, lowering his hands to cover his face with them.
If he was lucky, he’d be able to make up with you by the end of tomorrow. But for now, he was burdened with uncertainty. But his attention was quickly diverted to something else. A laugh. Your laugh. Sitting up with visible confusion, he listened in to the muffled sounds of your voice down the hall. 
The walls here were thin, so it didn’t surprise him he could hear you so clearly. 
But what did was what he heard next. Another voice talking, and it belonged to a boy. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he registered it as someone he knew. Mathias. Wait a second, what the hell was he doing here? But there was no way he could be, right? Didn’t he have an after-party to be at? The longer he eavesdropped on the conversation, the more obvious it became that it was Mathias. And they were talking about him. 
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come this year. Again. But you know how Alfred gets.”
“Yeah... Don’t worry about it. This can be our own little after-party. Just as long as he doesn’t find out, you’ll be fine!” 
Wait, what? 
From what he heard, it sounded like you really had moved on. But you never had the decency to tell him, and that was what filled him to the brim with betrayal--it broke his heart. Was this why you wanted to be in a separate room tonight? Sliding himself off the bed, he stormed out the door to find you. His glasses were already fogging up, but he never bothered to clear them as he marched down the empty halls. 
Your voices grew louder and louder, all until he came to a stop outside a room he never booked. That was right. He applied for one with a single bed. He could only imagine what you were doing with Mathias in a room with a double bed. 
The laughing continued behind the door. 
“You know these walls are thin, right?” He began lowly. Swinging open the door, the noises disappeared along with the people inside. The room was completely dark, and when he flicked on the lights, you and Mathias were nowhere in sight. Not a soul was in here. 
“... What the fuck.” He grumbled.
He swore he heard you both giggling away like school children. Did you two hear him coming and hide somewhere? He was skeptical, but he checked around nonetheless. In the wardrobe, then under the bed. There was no sign of either of you. The shower, maybe? Stepping into the bathroom and pulling open the curtains, he was prepared to catch you red-handed. But there was nothing there except for a porcelain white tub.  A defeated sigh fell from his lips. What the hell was going on? Alfred was completely sober, a miracle considering he usually drank at his parties. So he had a terrible feeling he wasn’t just hearing things. That only pointed towards one explanation. 
This inn was totally haunted. 
And whoever, or whatever that haunted it was toying with him.
He swallowed thickly and turned to the mirror, only to jump at what he saw. The reflection revealed a figure standing behind him. 
It was Mathias, except his face was twisted in a sick smile. 
“Holy shit--!” Alfred paled as he stared face to face with the entity. As he lost himself in its soulless, blue eyes, he was overcome with dread, almost as if the spirit was forcing fear into him. Reminding him of his failures, insecurities, and the uncertainty of his relationship. All of his faults flashed in his mind again and again so incessantly, he thought he would break down on the spot. 
Where is (F/N)? 
She doesn’t want you anymore. 
You should just give up. 
And the deeper in he spiraled into these self-destructive thoughts, the wider the entity smiled, its lips stretching to impossible lengths it became grotesque. Darting his wide eyes around the reflection in his bout of panic, he saw its hand reach out to his shoulder in the mirror. He didn’t know how he managed to do this, but he spun around quickly to defend himself. And there was nobody there.
In his brief moment of disorientation, the spirit shot out two arms, breaking the barrier of the glass. Tightening its hands around his neck, Alfred was pulled back against the mirror and choked. “Gh--!” His airway was completely constricted by the iron grip, and he was forced to struggle a few inches above the ground. 
Digging his fingernails into the hands, he never felt them loosen. 
So he did the unthinkable--he started to smash his fist against the mirror. It hurt like hell and left his knuckles bruised and raw, but the thought of you in danger kept him going. That was right. There was no saying if you weren’t being choked, attacked, or worst. Punching the glass again and again, it finally shattered, and the grip around his neck loosened. 
The mirror was reduced to shards and fell into the sink.
Falling to the ground in a loud thump, he stood up while coughing violently. 
The arms disappeared, and so did the entity. 
And Alfred had a feeling it had to do with the mirror it was in. 
Leaving the bathroom with heavy breaths, he ran back to his room and picked up his chainsaw. Halloween had the perks of carrying around dangerous tools, and he was never this glad that he took it with him instead of leaving it in his car unattended. Too bad he was out of costume, though. But a white tank and boxers would do. Holding it above his chest, he revved his chainsaw and ran out the door. 
It was time to fuck shit up. 
You were still stuck in bed, but the spirit managed to remove your blanket. A soft whimper fell from your lips as your only form of protection was stripped away. If you thought you were terrified, then you would prove yourself wrong with a whole new level of fear as two arms wrapped around your neck from behind. No way. Was it going to choke you? One of its legs was thrown over yours, so you were completely enveloped by its limbs. 
As you trembled away in the dark, you let out a soft cry when you felt its warm breath tickle your ear. 
“I missed you. Why didn’t you wanna stay in a room with me?” It cooed, the voice sending shivers down your spine. It sounded strangely similar to Alfred’s, and what he said was exactly what he would’ve said too, except it wasn’t him. You never saw him come in, and the last time you checked, he wasn’t invisible. 
“... W-What... What are you?” You stammered, feeling a hand glide down your bare thigh. “Stop--” 
“I’m his desire, sweetheart.” It began in a low and alluring voice. “Every feeling in the Aura inn festers into a semi-physical form. That’s why I’m here right now. Because he wants you.” 
You screwed your eyes shut. Just what the hell kind of place was this inn? A magical hut that personified emotions? “... Can you please let me go? I don’t like the way how you’re... Hugging me.” You pleaded, only to feel the entity tighten itself around you. 
“But I don’t want to. He doesn’t want to.” It responded with a hum. “I reflect everything he wants. And currently, he wants to see you more than anything. Especially when he’s dealing with jealousy... And having a hard time at that.” 
“Jealousy?” It wasn’t shocking, per se, but he had you curious. If desire festered into a sultry form of someone and hugged their object of affections, what did jealousy turn into?  “... I knew he was jealous of Mathias. But that’s not the problem here. We’ll sort it out later. If you’re desire, then what’s jealousy like?” 
It let out a deep, foreboding laugh. “Depends. If it’s only a little bit of envy, he’ll start hearing things that hit his nerves. Nothing but... Harmless fun.” You felt yourself get rolled onto your back, and you were caught off guard by what loomed over you. It was Alfred himself, or more accurately put, his personified desire, but this time, you could see him. “But if his jealousy gets mixed in with insecurity, that’s when things get pretty ugly...” 
You furrowed your brows with concern. “Ugly? How so? Is he gonna be okay?” 
It craned his head from side to side. “Who knows.” 
“But I’ll tell you a few things that I do know. Jealousy tends to be pretty sneaky. It’ll snoop around in mirrors and attack him.” You tensed up all over. “So Alfred will have to smash every mirror in the inn to get it to come out. And when it does, all he needs to do is be with you to send it away.”
Loud chainsaw noises were heard down the halls, silencing both you and the entity. Following that was the shattering of glass. 
“... Hm. Looks like he already figured it out.” 
Joy filled you to the brim and you smiled wide. “He really did! I’m so glad!” Reaching out to hug the entity around its chest, you pulled away and slid yourself off the bed. 
“Thank you, um, Alfred’s desire! I’m gonna go find him now!” 
He laid on his side and watched you run off. “You can just call me Alfred.” 
“Okay, Alfred!” 
While you exited the room to stand in the halls, you found yourself staring at a number of doors that were wide open, and the lights on inside. You assumed those were the rooms he already cleared, which meant he still had quite a bit to do. But he was fast. Appearing out of one room, he continued tearing down door after door to smash every single mirror and window in the inn. And soon, he managed to reduce every piece of glass present into shards. 
Once the chainsaw revs came to a stop, you called out his name. 
“Alfred!” 
He jerked up at the sound, then glanced around. “(F/N)!?” While he was on the first floor in the courtyard, you were on the second in the mezzanine, so he had to glance up to see you. “Oh God, I was so worried! Are you okay?” He shouted. 
“Yes!” You called back. “This place is... Super haunted. Let’s get out of here!”
“You called it. I nearly got murdered!” 
Running down the stairs to meet with him, you practically jumped onto him after he dropped his chainsaw to the ground. Embracing you with his strong arms, he pressed kiss after kiss all over your face. While he did, you spotted another figure standing by the stairs. Was that Mathias? You couldn’t take a better look at him before he disappeared into thin air. “Oh my fucking god. I missed you so much.” He exasperated, setting you down on your feet. “You won’t believe what happened. I’ll explain everything in the car.”
As he led you out of the Godforsaken inn, he gripped you tight with his hand. And you squeezed right back. “Let me guess. You were attacked by something in the mirror so you shattered every single one here. I know.” 
At this point, you and him had arrived outside his car.
Turning to you with shock, he placed his hands on his hips. 
“And how the hell did you know? I thought it was original enough that you wouldn’t be able to guess!” He exclaimed, much to your amusement. 
“Mm... Not really. With how many horror movies you’ve watched, I wouldn’t put it past you to come up with a solution like that.” Giving him an affectionate pinch on the cheek, he rubbed the spot with a light pout. You considered telling him the truth, but you already wanted to forget tonight. If he didn’t know about it, then moving on yourself would be so much easier. 
“Now, I think you have some apologizing to do.” 
He softened his gaze. “Yeah... I really do. Sorry for everything. Sorry for being a dick. And not just... For today.” Pulling you into another hug, he nestled his chin into your shoulder. God, did it feel good to have you in his arms again. “I’m gonna be real. I never hated Mathias. He’s my friend. But seeing him with you gets me... Really jealous. And it’s not cuz’ I don’t trust you, it’s because I’m...” His cheeks grew rosy. “I don’t know. I just feel...”
You knew he’d get stuck at this part, so you helped him. 
“Because you feel insecure?” 
“... Yeah.” 
“You idiot...” A soft, content sigh was heard from your end. “It doesn’t matter how similar you are to him. You don’t have to try to make any changes or keep him away from me for me to choose you.” 
His heart fluttered as he released you with a sheepish smile. 
“I really needed to hear that. So, thanks.” Alfred murmured, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Kinda lame of me to put you through that. I should’ve just talked it out with you.” 
“Yeah, you dumbass.” You grumbled, but it was on an affectionate note. 
“So, do you think we’ll make it in time to the party for me to carpool with Mathias back to his place? I wanna see what they’re building this year!”
He frowned, but his expression was short-lived as a smile began creeping onto his lips. “Are you serious right now?” 
“I’m kidding!” 
🎶 Tell me, are you the ghost of jealousy?
This is a request. Thank you for requesting.
126 notes · View notes
purrincess-chat · 3 years ago
Text
Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH27
What are Marinette and Chloe going to do now that they’re in cahoots? Find out below~
Previous      First       Next       AO3
----------------------------------------------
Chapter 27: Better Than Revenge
“I’m surprised to see you here, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe said as Jean Luke poured their tea.
Marinette averted her gaze the way Adrien always did when he came over. People with morals really were annoying.
“Lila’s gone too far. I can’t turn a blind eye and watch my friends get walked over,” she said. “This afternoon, she-”
“Look, I’ve already agreed to help you. I don’t need the whole sob story.” Chloe held up a hand.
“Where were you today anyway? I didn’t see you at the Louvre,” Marinette asked.
“I needed a spa day, so I conned Adrien into taking notes for me.” Chloe examined her perfectly manicured nails. “I see you’ve changed your mind about the status of those brats in your life.”
Marinette sighed. “They’re my friends, or at least, they were at one point. I hate seeing Lila blatantly manipulate them for her own selfish gain.”
“Yes, yes, I’ve got that much, how noble, now what are you thinking? I say we invite her onto a ‘game show’ only in reality it’s a trap we’ve set up where we’ll get a bunch of celebrities to diss her on live television.” Chloe took a sip with a wicked grin.
“Look, I’m agreeing to help you, but we need to set up some ground rules first,” Marinette said.
Chloe sat back with a groan, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine, what?”
“I want everyone to find out that she’s a liar, yes, but I don’t want to be needlessly cruel.” Chloe rolled her eyes, but Marinette continued, “We need to be smart about this, or else she’ll just play the victim.”
Chloe thought back to their previous failed attempts and pursed her lips. “Fine. Anything else?”
“Yes. Secondly, and most importantly, Adrien cannot find out that I’m helping you,” she said. The corners of Chloe’s lips twitched into a smirk. “I’m serious, Chloe. Don’t tell him.”
Chloe eyed her for a long moment, debating whether or not to say anything when another knock pounded on her door, and Jean Claude moved to answer it. She squared her shoulders, lifting her teacup to her lips with a sly grin.
“I won’t tell him.” She vowed as Jean Mark unlatched the lock. “You can tell him yourself.”
“Okay, Lila has gone too far this time. I’m ready to do things-” Adrien stormed into the room, stopping short when he laid eyes on Marinette, “-your way… Marinette?”
“Adrien?”
“What are you doing here?” They said in unison.
Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed, and he flicked his gaze between Marinette and Chloe.
“I was just-”
“Oh, save it you two!” Chloe interjected with a groan. “Adrien texted me earlier; Dupain-Cheng just showed up at my door, and now you’re both here for the same reason.”
“I know we promised to stay out of it, but Lila has gone too far.” Adrien flashed Marinette pathetic puppy eyes. “I’m sorry for going behind your back.”
“No, you’re right. Lila has to be stopped. That’s why I went behind your back too,” Marinette said. “Forgive me?”
“Of course!”
“Ugh, if you two start kissing, I’m gonna throw up,” Chloe moaned. “So, what’s the plan? I can get a crate addressed to the middle of the Amazon here in the next 20 minutes.”
“Ship her to Egypt for all I care!” Adrien threw his arms out in exasperation.
Chloe reached for her phone with an excited grin that deflated upon seeing Marinette’s contemplative frown.
“Don’t even try to convince us. It’s two against one unless you’ve got a better idea.”
“As fun as it would be, I’m pretty sure that’s highly illegal,” Marinette said pointedly.
“Buzzkill.” Chloe slumped, letting her phone fall back to her lap.
“We need to figure out a way to help everyone realize the truth and prevent her from ever lying again.” Marinette tapped her chin.
“Perfect. Do you want to call Jagged Stone, or should I?” Chloe picked up her phone again.
“You saw how well your interview with Ladybug went. Everyone knows I have an in with Jagged, so exposing her will only make us look like the bad guys for ganging up on her.” Marinette shook her head.
“Don’t you think she more than deserves it? After everything she’s done to you, Marinette, and especially after today with what happened.” Adrien winced. “Look, normally I’m with you, but Lila is evil. She can’t be saved.”
“No, but our friends can.” Marinette turned to face him. “Regardless of how obvious her lies are and how many times we’ve tried to tell them the truth, they’re being manipulated, and it’s going to break their hearts when they find out.”
Adrien held her gaze, pursing his lips, but after a moment, he nodded.
“Okay, you’re right.” He gestured for her to take the lead.
“What? You’re switching sides on me? Traitor!” Chloe shot forward with a gasp, though she shouldn’t have been surprised.
“Chloe, I’m not suggesting doing nothing, just doing something smarter,” Marinette said.  
“Like?” Chloe cocked a brow, and Marinette took a thoughtful sip of tea. She really hated how methodical Marinette could be.
“Well, I sort of have half an idea.” Marinette set the cup down. “You and Adrien have a lot of power and money as do a lot of my new friends, and today at lunch when they were talking about Christmas with royalty and charity trips I had a thought: What if we recreate all of Lila’s lies ourselves as truths for the whole world to see?”
“That way when news trickles down to the school they’ll realize that Lila never did any of those things.” Adrien finished, and Marinette nodded. “That’s genius! We’ll have all the proof, and Lila will be forced to admit that she lied without us ever having to confront her.”
“And we get to help people along the way and bring some good from this messy situation.” Marinette added.
“I always knew you were brilliant, mon ange.” Adrien lifted her hand to his lips, gaze soft and disgustingly affectionate. Chloe wanted to barf.
“I still prefer making her disappear, but I guess your idea could work too.” Chloe relented with a huff. Anything to get them out of her suite. She still couldn’t believe Adrien actually fell for her of all people. “It’s the most Marinette way you could have suggested. Always trying to make the world a better place, so annoying.”
“I’ll talk to my friends tomorrow at school and come up with a plan of action. It’s a lot of work, but I think this way Lila will have nowhere left to run. She’ll have to own up,” Marinette said.
“I’m behind you all the way.” Adrien gave her hand a squeeze.
Chloe stood up, clapping her hands. If she had to sit through any more of their cooing, she was going to break out in hives.
“Wonderful, now if you two don’t mind I’m late for a date with a hot stone massage.” She waved her arms in a ‘shoo’ motion, so Marinette and Adrien took their leave. “Jean Clarke, tell the cage guy to be ready on standby. Just in case.”
“Yes, mademoiselle.”
♪♫♪ Call It What You Want ♪♫♪
The slam of Chloe’s suite door echoed in the hall with a bang, and Marinette rubbed her temple with a sigh. Was one normal day so much to ask for? Marinette thought she was getting out of this mess when she changed schools, but somehow she kept getting dragged in deeper.
Adrien slipped his fingers into hers and tugged her toward the stairs. “I think you and I have a lot to talk about.”
He remained quiet for the first flight, lips screwed into a pensive frown. Should she speak first? What would she even say? They’d both gone behind each other’s backs to see Chloe, but they’d done it to protect each other. All she wanted was one perfect day with him, but it seemed that the closer they got to each other, the more complicated everything around them became. His silence ate at her as they rounded the second flight, but halfway down he finally spoke.
“I know you didn’t want to get involved with Lila, which is why I came here today. Even if Lila hadn’t pulled that stunt at the end, I’d already texted Chloe to start again.” He lowered his gaze to his feet. “You must be disappointed in me.”
“Adrien,” Marinette said, tightening her grip on his hand. “I came here without you too, ya know. Lila isn’t giving us the option to stay out of it anymore. She’s not going to stop unless we do something.”
“I know.” Adrien stopped and pulled her into his arms. “I just can’t stand to see you so broken and upset. Just when I started to think that things were going to be okay, she goes on the offensive again. Sometimes I feel like we’re never going to win.”
“We will. One day Lila won’t be able to touch us.” Marinette assured him.
He pulled back with a tortured frown. “That wasn’t how I wanted things to happen earlier. I didn’t want our first kiss to be so heavy. I was hoping that tonight… I planned something for us, but now I feel like everything is ruined.”
“You planned something?” Marinette quirked a brow, heart fluttering.
Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was hoping we could have dinner at my place and finally celebrate your designs for Clara. We could still go—if you want. Everything is set up.”
Marinette’s cheeks warmed, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her prince was always looking out for her. She leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“I’d love to.”
♪♫♪ Fun Tonight ♪♫♪
“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
Nino flicked his gaze over to Alya as she set a tray of juice on the desk. She crossed the room to sit beside him on the bed, and Nino buried his face in his knees.
“What did I do wrong? I was right there, she could have come to me,” he said.
“I never painted Ladybug as the type of person to take her anger out on other people, but I guess it’s true when they say no one’s perfect.” Alya remarked bitterly. “But if she wants to be that way then, who cares? We don’t need superpowers.”
“But having superpowers was awesome! Fighting crime with Ladybug and Chat Noir was totally legit!” Nino lifted his head with a frown.
“Well, what kind of hero is Ladybug if she turns her back on real heroes? If she puts hurt feelings over the safety of the city? We never gave her a reason not to trust us,” Alya said.
“You used to look up to her, Alya.” Nino sat back and looked her up and down. “Now you’ve deleted your blog, and you sound like you hate her.”
“Can you blame me? After how she treated Lila and now she’s taking it out on us?” Alya shook her head. “She’s not the person I thought she was.”
“Al…” Nino lowered his gaze. “I know you’re hurt, but I’m worried about you. You’re always stressed and exhausted and angry nowadays ever since…since you and Lila started hanging out more.”
“At least Lila hasn’t turned her back on me!” Alya snapped. She knew exactly what he omitted.
Ever since Marinette left.
Nino sighed, placing his hand over hers. “It’s been a long day. Let’s not fight, okay?”
“Sorry, I’m just all riled up from this afternoon.” Alya crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against his shoulder. “Lila says her ankle still hurts.”
“Do you really think Marinette pushed her?” Nino asked. “I mean, I know Marinette has been kind of a loose cannon lately, and their beef runs deep, but I’ve known Marinette a long time. She’s not the type to hurt someone.”
“She hurt me,” Alya mumbled.
“Don’t you think this feud has gone on long enough? There has to be some middle ground somewhere. I mean, I lost my best bud too,” Nino said. “I miss the way things were before all of this. Don’t you?”
“Nino…” Alya lowered her gaze, then nuzzled in closer. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
Nino sighed, and Alya sat up, cupping his cheek. His eyes swirled with unease that only added to Alya’s reservoir of guilt, but he didn’t argue further. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her in.
“Then let’s not talk.”
41 notes · View notes
papergirllife · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Being the right hand women of the most evil man isn’t the normal lifestyle you think you’d had when you were going over career choices, working for Seoul’s very own joker sounds horrifying to others, but not when you had him wrapped around your fingers.
warnings : gruesome scenes (only the beginning), bloodshed  (only the beginning), unprotected sex, slight knife play.
You stood on your ground as guns rang out from all directions, this was a norm for you, flirting with death like it bought no consequences as a bullet barely grazes you when you ducked behind some container, but alas, this was the road that was given to you, no point fighting it, in fact you’ve learned to embrace it, turning yourself into the cold blooded killer you are today.
You looked into the sight scope of your gun, you only had 16 bullets left, but there were around 20 people, you knew you should’ve bought more, guess this would have to do. You took aim at a person’s head, hitting him squarely between the eyes, the gun vibrating against your arm as the gunshot was drowned out by the shouting and maybe a grenade or two. Once you were sure he was down, you opened fire again and again, not giving the enemy a chance of spotting your whereabouts, the warehouse was large, but not enough to make you seem miniscule in the midst of an open fire. You smile at their blur expressions before having a bullet struck onto their head, however, once you ran out of bullets, one of the men ran over to you, his expression livid.
You dropped your gun and took out your hunting knife, the man charged at you, his hand gun aiming at you, like he couldn’t decide on how to finish you off.
“You killed my brother!”
You threw the knife at his armed hand, the gun dropped out his grasp. You withdrew the knife from his wounded arm and proceeded to cut his wrists, legs, and thighs with it, cutting off his arteries, his blood splattering on your clothes as he falls onto his knees, eyes wide with fear.
“Time to join your brother, asshole,” you said before giving his neck a twist, killing him.
You looked around to see that your men have most of the people either killed or tied, but once you let out the breath you were holding in, you spotted a man with a knife charging at someone, your boss, Mr Raion. 
You quickly dashed onto the ground to retrieve the hand gun, shooting at that lunatic, Mr Raion made a hum of approval, followed by a tsk at the man that cowered in front of him. 
“Well done, Y/N,” Mr Raion said before turning to the man on the ground, slitting his throat for all to see.
“Now, time to answer my questions people, now Harley, would you do the honours?”
His Harley, just like the comics, Mr Raion had a Harley. His Harley kills, tortures, and taunts for him. Prancing around like a mad woman as she stuck numerous weapons at places that you wouldn’t want to know as Mr Raion asked questions. You retrieved your gun to clean it, weapons hold sentimental value to you, as it is something you used to attack as well as defend, one of your men handing you a cloth.
“It’s going to take a long time isn’t it, miss?” he asked in an exasperated tone, tired from tonight’s mission.
“I’ll give you 10k if you dare to tell her to stop shrieking like a mad woman,” you said without looking up, knowing that no one would want to interfere her at a moment like this.
“No thank you, miss, being in your team instead of hers is already a blessing,” your right hand man said as he stole a glance at Harley’s men, all wearing weird bunny costumes over their protective gear.
You guys were in for a long night.
Mr Raion, in Japanese, it meant Lion. He truly is the king of Seoul’s underground society, he has cops from little pawns, to big players in the defence ministry, all in his little pocket, making him invincible against the law. Harley, his little toy, is in fact just a toy. They aren’t in love, all of it is just for showbiz, or maybe most of it. You could feel your gaze hardened at the sight of Harley giving Mr Raion a lap dance for all to see midway through her torture session, like a death sentence isn’t painful enough that she has to make it worse by twerking in front of those men before their death, you couldn’t tell what Mr Raion was thinking, since he always had the mask on.
The lot of you were done with the mission in the warehouse, and as celebration, Mr Raion would treat everyone a night of joy by partying, their typical ritual. 
At the club that you specifically asked to clear out before anymore unwanted deaths occur, you gripped your glass of wine hard, before downing the rest of its contents, your hard gaze training on Harley’s hands wandering around Mr Raion’s exposed chest, the top buttons off.
“Harley, Harley, Harley. It’s always her isn’t she? I heard you saved his life tonight, yet you don’t get anything in return,” it was the club owner you’ve known ever since you worked for Mr Raion, Johnny Suh.
“You know I don’t do glitz and glamour, Johnny, nor any public shows, I value my reputation as a woman,” you said before downing the glass.
“Don’t let him hear that, Y/N,” Johnny said in a lowered tone, valuing his life.
“Thanks for letting us trash the place, I’ll be heading out,” you said as you threw a few notes down as tip.
“So early?” Johnny questioned in a shocked tone.
“Yeah, had a long day,” you said before heading out the club, the feeling of someone’s eyes on your back.
Tumblr media
You washed up and got into bed, staring at Seoul’s beautiful skyline, but your mind wanders to the ugliest parts of Seoul, and how you were apart of it. Things always looked prettier from afar, don’t they? You let out a sigh of defeat before crawling into bed, the silk sheets smooth against your skin.
When you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt a pair of arms around your waist as kisses were peppered on your neck, the drowsiness fading away from the touch.
“Why did you leave so early? You look so beautiful today. I wanted to stare at you more,” the man said in a husky tone.
“Fuck off, Yuta. Go look for your Harley.”
Yuta climbed on top of you, caging you in his arms, his head laid on your shoulder, his gentle breathing sending shivers down your spine.
“You know we’re nothing. I wouldn’t have her around if it isn’t to protect you.”
That was true, Yuta only hired Harley to mask your presence, just like the mask on his face. To other people in the underground society, you were just one of Yuta’s men, and nothing more. That was how it was initially, until the two of you fell in love when the two of you were accidentally trapped in the hide out by one of the rookies, but that didn’t matter now, as your emotions swirled and bubbled under your skin dangerously. 
“Go, go get that lap dance that you were enjoying so much.”
Yuta’s gaze hardened under your obvious jealousy, it wasn’t the first time he dealt with this type of out burst from you, and it wouldn’t be the last either, just look into your closet and you’ll be able to see mountains of jewelleries and handbags, most of them are tokens of apology from Yuta.
“What about you and Johnny, huh? Do I need to kill him? Or ask you to kill him? To Prove me your loyalty.”
Yuta was looking at you straight in the eye, both of you having the death glare at each other.
“All these years being beside you is enough proof,” you said before reaching under your pillow, drawing out a knife, pointing it right at Yuta’s throat. “I could kill Seoul’s biggest criminal right now if I wanted to. Don’t test me, Yuta.”
Yuta looked into your eyes as he lowered your hand from his throat, his eyes switched from hard to soft within seconds, he could feel this wasn’t light banter anymore, you were truly angry today, and he knew how dangerous you could get if he was to burst your temper. 
“I’m sorry, tonight was indeed a bit overboard, I’ll have a talk with her tomorrow,” Yuta said as he took the knife out of your hands, placing it on your nightstand, his other hand pushing back stray hairs on your face, his touch gentle.
“Let me make it up to you, my queen.”
Yuta kissed you deeply, his tongue sinking into your wet cavern once you allowed him access as his hands wander down south, taking your nipples into his lithe fingers, pinching and twisting, your back bending upwards into his will. You bit onto his bottom lip hard, drawing out a groan from the handsome man above you, breaking off the kiss.
“You know I love it when you do that,” Yuta said breathlessly before he took the knife from the nightstand, slicing your nightgown from collar to the hem, the blade touching your skin gently.
“So beautiful, my love.”
You reached up to take off Yuta’s clothes, his perfectly sculptured body coming into view, the feeling of moisture in between your legs making you greedy for more. Once his pants and boxers were off, you reached up and took his length inside your mouth, clouding Yuta’s head with pleasurable ecstasy, but he gently pulled your head away from him.
“No, Y/N, tonight’s all about you. I’ll let you take me another time, okay?”
You nodded, lying back down on your bed with hooded eyes, those dangerous eyes that send blood down Yuta’s length. Yuta spread open your legs, and placed his mouth at your lower lips, licking at your slit, tasting your sweet nectar on his tongue.
“You taste so sweet, love,” Yuta said as he scissors you open with two fingers, his fingers sucked in by your welcoming walls, he could feel himself getting harder as he imagined how nice his cock would feel in your warm wet walls. Yuta held your entrance open with two fingers as his tongue ventured into you, the difference in texture and temperature making you whimper, it’s been so long since he last touched you this way.
Yuta ate you out with much fevour, his nose bumping your clit as he ate you out like a starved man, fingers mixing into the play, making your hands curl around his beautiful locks of hair, egging him to go harder and faster. Yuta took this as a good sign, increasing the pace of his fingers and tongue, tightening the knot in your stomach, once he sensed how close you were, Yuta opened his mouth wider, gently biting onto your clit, unravelling the knot in your stomach.
You could only scream when your high hit you so suddenly, Yuta’s name flowing out off your lips like a beautiful mantra, a melody Yuta would never get bored of. Yuta continued his ministrations to help you ride out your high as well as cleaning up your juices, licking at your pussy as his eyes fixed on your beautiful fucked out face, proud of his achievement.
“Can you take more? Or do you want to rest?” Yuta asked you as he kissed your forehead.
“I want more,” you said you pulled Yuta by his arms, drawing him close to you as you craved for his warmth.
Yuta gave his cock a few pumps before rubbing its head at your slit, coating his dick in your juices before pushing in completely, fitting inside you like a glove.
“Fuck, how are you always so tight.”
“Maybe it’s because you don’t touch me enough,” you answered breathlessly just to spike him. Yuta let out a laugh at your snark remark, “ You asked for it, baby. Don’t hold back on your words when I do just as you say.”
Yuta lifted up your legs and curled them around his waist before pulling out almost completely just to snap back his hips against yours, your back arching at the immense pleasure that coursed through your veins, your nails scratching down Yuta’s arms as he keeps up with the hard and fast pace, his face contorted in a mix of focus and pleasure as he chases for both your highs.
Every thrust of his hips sends you further over the edge as his length hits your sweet spot. Yuta is so familiar with your body that he quickly finds your sweet spot every time he touches you, bringing you your pleasurable downfall quickly. Yuta takes a nipple into his mouth as he pushes into you deeper, making you take him whole, before resuming to his quick shallow thrusts, both paces making you head spin and walls tighten around him as your orgasm grows nearer.
“Yuta, please, more,” you said in the heat of the moment, impatient for your high as you pushed your hips back onto his, developing a pace to match his, the sudden movement making Yuta clench his teeth in pleasure, his neck thrown back as the pleasure washes over him, making him more desperate for release. Yuta picks your legs up to thrusts into you at a higher angle that allows him to go even faster. Sounds of skin slapping skin filling your whole room as well as the loud bangs of your bed frame against the wall, if the whole penthouse wasn’t yours, you’d be receiving complaints by now.
“Cum for me, Y/N. I want to cum inside of you,” Yuta said as he reached a hand down to rub circles on your clit, sending you over the edge. The way your walls were clenching down on Yuta’s length as well as the sting he felt from your nails on his arms brought Yuta his sweet release with a cry of your name, the pace of his hips slowing down to ride out both of your highs.
You cooed at the feeling of his warm spurts of cum painting your walls, his length going limp inside of you. Yuta collapses beside you with him still being inside you as he pulls you closer into his embrace, fatigue settling into both your bodies.
“I love you, Y/N. And it’ll always only be you,” Yuta said breathlessly as he laid on your breasts, the feeling of your soft mounds so addictive on his cheeks.
“Mhm, I love you too, Yuta,” you said before drifting off to sleep, barely registering the movements on your bed when Yuta pulled you into his arms, a feather light kiss on your temple.
215 notes · View notes
tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago
Text
"Doppelganger" *Part 12*
I give you this my babies, because tomorrow I have tons to do and I don't know if you'll get a chapter during the day, it might just be tomorrow night after most of you are asleep. So enjoy the plethora when you can!
Also, I hope you're not getting whiplash from the twists and turns. I'm just making it as dramatic as possible, apparently.
Please still read my stuff.
Part 11
Part 13
Tag List
@madamsnape921
@lolliepopsicle
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@word-scribbless
@gibbs274
@sassyada
@aprildecker-blog
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@stars-trash-18
@omgsuperstarg
@objection-argumentative
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Once again top is Nevada as 'Rafael', Bottom is Rafael]
---------
You walked silently through the park while crying. You were fuming, you felt guilty, but mostly you were heartbroken. You knew Rafael didn't mean what he said, he was just hot headed. But you did mean what you said. You didn't know if he could ever get past what happened, and you weren't positive you could either.
You wanted to, but just knowing the damage was done to Rafael's heart killed you inside and how you could spend the rest of your life just feeling guilty?
You were so lost in your own thoughts you didn't notice cops running through the park towards the cave.
-------
"FREEZE!!!!" An NYPD officer yelled at Rafael as several more surrounded the cave and him.
"Okay gentlemen, I try that you're doing your job but there's been a mistake--" Rafael put his hands in the air.
"Save it, Ramirez. Barba told us everything,"
Olivia had told him over the phone that Nevada had gotten to the people at Ryker's and they had alerted the NYPD but he didn't expect them to be this fast.
"Look if you go into my jacket pocket you'll see my wallet with my ID," He assured them.
"Yeah how dumb do you think we are?" One cop scoffed. "Even my fifteen year old sister has a FAKE ID,"
"Fair point," Rafael nodded.
"Now where's the girl?" Another police officer barked.
"Girl?" Rafael’s brows furrowed.
“Barba's girl. You know it takes some balls to kidnap the ADA's fiancée, I'll give you that,”
“Wha---he DID! I just rescued her!” He insisted.
"Yeah, before you got what you wanted?" The cop asked him suspiciously.
"And what did I want?" Rafael asked.
“You wanted your boys free,” he replied.
“No HE did. That's why HE was there. Come on guys you're smarter than this,” Rafael started to take a step forward.
“DON'T move,” The cop cocked the gun closer to Rafael.
“Really then how did he explain why he was there breaking them out and not me?”
“He said you had the girl and when he brought you the boys you'd let her go.”
"What would be the point of that if we look identical?!" Rafael exclaimed in exasperation. This was ridiculous.
“You think we're gonna buy you're that stupid to walk into Ryker's completely unarmed, just because you look like the ADA?”
“No he's just that cocky,” Rafael rolled his eyes at Nevada’s ego.
“Alright enough, where is she?” The cop ordered.
“She just ran away….” Rafael realized this didn’t look good.
“Oh really? She just ran away from the love of her life, who just rescued her from an evil man?” The officer asked sarcastically.
“Yeah she--we--- it's a long story,” He sighed. If he had just kept running after you, you’d be together right now. God knows what was happening to you right now.
“Right, well you can tell it downtown,” One cop nodded to the others to handle him.
“Well fine, Olivia Benson will vouch for me,” Rafael was talking a tough game, but secretly praying he was right. Olivia would know he was himself, right?
“Whatever you say Nevada,” Two cops grabbed by the shoulders and dragged him out of the cave.
---------
You suddenly realized as you reached the end of the park that you had no cell phone, no money. You didn’t even have shoes. You really didn’t want to continue to fight with Rafael, but it seemed you had no choice in the matter at the moment. You started heading back to the penguin cove when you saw a bunch of NYPD officers surrounding the place, and after a few minutes they were dragging Rafael out in handcuffs.
You were just about to run and tell them there was a mix up, when a hand clamped over your mouth. And then everything went black.
When you woke up, you were back in Nevada’s limo.
“Are you fucking kidding me…” You muttered to yourself, but you quickly realized you were not alone. Two more of Nevada’s men that you had never seen before were sitting across from you, huge evil grins on their faces.
“Hola, mami,” One rubbed his leg up and down your bare leg but you kicked him away.
“Now that’s not very nice, mujer,”
“Especially when we brought you refreshments,” The other one pulled out the champagne bottle of mind serum Nevada had on him the last time you saw him.
SERIOUSLY?
-------
Rafael was dragged through the precinct, glares from every single cop and detective, finally reaching the squad’s room. Olivia rushed over, trying to help Rafael out of the cuffs.
“What are you doing? THIS is Mr. Barba!” She exclaimed.
“No offense, Ms. Benson, but this man is very good at fooling people, you’re no exception,” One officer told her.
“Then why did he have Mr. Barba’s phone?” Olivia asked them with an attitude. The officer’s looked between each other, not really having an answer for that. Maybe they had been mistaken.
“.....Because I dropped it when I was running for my life with my fiancé,” A voice came from behind them. Everyone turned to see ‘Rafael’ with you draped on his arm.
“No….” Rafael whispered. This couldn’t be happening again.
“Ah, Mr. Barba,” One of the cops nodded. “Thank you so much for helping us catch this guy. That’s a decade of fine police work’s worth,” He shook ‘Rafael’s’ hand while Olivia circled around them to talk to you.
“What are you doing?!” She hissed.
“What are you talking about?!” You hissed back.
“Why are you vouching for Nevada?”
“What are you talking about? This is Rafael,”
“....Seriously?” Olivia was taken aback.
“Yes Olivia, SERIOUSLY. Don’t you think I would know my own fiancée?” You gave her an offended look.
“Yeah well from what I heard, you’re not that great at it,” She smirked.
“OLIVIA,” ‘Rafael’ suddenly stepped in between you two. “This vendetta you have against Y/N has got to stop, I thought we talked about this,”
“I...she...you…” Olivia looked from him to you, her eyes searching both of your eyes for anything telling.
“Do you have any idea what she’s been through?!” ‘Rafael’ barked, you laid your head on his shoulder looking very scared and traumatized.
“Yeah, I don’t know why you’re so mean to me,” You pouted, making Olivia gag.
“Oh my god, there is no way you are--”
“We’re done here, Olivia.” ‘Rafael’ shut her up. “If you can’t tell the difference between a hardened criminal and your ‘best friend’, then clearly we’re not as close as I thought we were.”
-----------------
Inside your mind prison, you were watching all of this go down with absolute horror. How could this be happening again? How did you do this to yourselves AGAIN? What is WRONG with you? And now, now it was worse than ever because now Rafael was actually in trouble, and it was your fault.
“OLIVIA!!!!!” You screamed. You couldn’t believe out of all people, you would need her help. But here you were.
Olivia watched in shock as you and ‘Rafael’ walked arm in arm out of the station, leaving ‘Nevada’ in cuffs, with the most pitiful look on his face.
“Alright Ramirez, you can drop the act. It’s gonna get you nowhere, the jig is up,” Olivia sneered at him, with a wink.
“Olivia,” Rafael looked at her sadly. “I know you know me better than that. You know about….things that would convince Y/N that Nevada is me,” He muttered softly, looking around them.
“I know,” Olivia pressed her forehead to his. “I never doubted it was you, Rafa,” She smiled; now that you were completely out of the way, and turned against him, he needed her. For the first time, he needed her. And she was going to take every advantage of that.
“But they’re not going to take my word for it,” She sighed. “You might just have to wait it out in Ryker’s a bit while I sort this out,” She shrugged apologetically.
“Oh no, he won’t be going to Ryker’s Detective,” The mayor had entered the station, and heard the last part of their conversation.
“...Excuse me?” Olivia asked worriedly.
“For all the bad things this man has done-- murders, rapes, pillaging, for a DECADE now. No for that he’s not just going to ‘wait it out’ in a cell, wasting our taxpayer dollars. He’s getting the chair as fast as I can sign the release,”
Both Olivia and Rafael’s faces went white; Oliva fell back as if she was going to pass out.
“Mr. Mayor, please-- I understand this is a serious manner but this is a man’s life here. Don’t you want to make absolutely sure that you have the right man?”
“I’m pretty sure Miss Y/N knows her own fiancée,” The mayor pointed out.
“Well no offense to Miss Y/N but that’s how she got herself kidnapped, sir. By NOT recognizing her fiancé,”
“....I’ll take that under advisement,” The mayor nodded.
“Liv,” Rafael looked at her seriously. “Look whenever someone’s under….the influence,” He whispered looking around the both of them.
“They are still ‘there’. I know it. I know Y/N is there, she's just...trapped,”
“...I’ll see what I can do,” Olivia nodded. “Don’t take him anywhere until I come back,” She instructed a cop, before running out of the station.
---
“Nev---Rafa!” Liv came running out of the station where you and ‘Rafael’ were waiting on an Uber.
“Liv,” He nodded curtly.
“Look you’re right, I need to talk to Y/N, give her a proper apology,” Olivia looked between the two of you. ‘Rafael’ eyed her curiously, but then addressed you: “Go on baby, I’ll wait here for the car,”
Olivia took you to the side and lowered her voice so ‘Rafael’ couldn’t hear.
“Y/N, Look--” She put both hands on your shoulders. “They are going to put Rafael to DEATH,”
Inside your mind prison you let out a blood curdling scream, making ‘you’ wince in pain. Olivia stood in front of you so that ‘Rafael’ wouldn’t see, but she tried to talk to you.
“Yes, exactly. You should feel bad, because we both know that that--” Olivia pointed to ‘Rafael’. “That is NOT our Rafael,”
“Okay, ‘our’ Rafael is pushing it, Olivia,” You rolled your eyes. “But whatever-- this, this cannot be happening. My body cannot be this vulnerable. I have GOT to love Rafael more than this, GOD DAMMIT!!!!!”
You pulled at the bars until your arms felt like they were going to fall off, you sobbed until no water was left in your body. How could this be happening? How could you be failing him this hard? How could you keep hurting him like this, and now you were going to get him killed!
“Please,” You looked up to the sky, whimpering softly.
“Please, I don’t know-- I don’t know who or what is up there, I’ve never really believed in a lot. Hell I’ve never even believed in myself. But I believe in Rafael, and I believe in our love. I really, really do. And I believe that our love can beat anything, I just-- I need, help.”
Suddenly a blinding light appeared, and when you adjusted your vision, you were back in your body. You looked up at Olivia, who was apparently comforting you from another ‘migraine’. Before you could say or do anything, ‘Rafael’ came walking up to the two of you.
“Carino, our ride’s here,” He smiled at you sweetly. You wanted to vomit; But as long as he thought you were under his spell, you were safe.
“Coming baby,” You kissed his cheek sweetly, over exaggerated. You know his ‘version’ of you was over the top, like a freaking trophy wife stereotype.
“You have to get him out of there, Liv,” You whispered, tears in your eyes. "This is all up to you now,” Then you turned and followed “Rafael” to the car.
Olivia stared at the car as it drove off. How had you just...woken yourself up like that? But you were right. It was all up to her now. She bolted back into the station where they were processing ‘Nevada’.
“Ahem, gentlemen,” Olivia nodded to the officers, then the mayor. “Sir if I might have a moment,” She motioned him to the side.
“Sir, like I said you want to be absolutely sure you’re going kill the right man. And I have a way,” She told the mayor.
“Which is…?”
“Let me take him and get a DNA test,”
“A DNA test? Right now?” The mayor laughed.
“The lab doesn’t close until eight, it’s six now,” Olivia looked at her phone. “I can get to the head of the line, and you can get your results instantly. Then if it turns out this is indeed Nevada Ramirez, then you can execute him tomorrow,” She explained.
“....I suppose that is the best course of action,” The mayor nodded. “Do you think you can handle him all on your own?”
“Trust me sir, I’ve handled worse,” Olivia shook her head, showing her gun.
“Alright,” The mayor walked over to the men holding ‘Nevada’.
“Men, Detective Benson will be taking Mr. Ramirez to a genetics lab to get a DNA test, to make sure he is in fact Nevada Ramirez,”
“Seriously? Sir, come on--”
“Did I stutter, Donahue?” The mayor narrowed his eyes at the cop.
“Alright fine,” The officer shoved ‘Nevada’ towards Olivia.
“Let’s go, Ramirez,” Olivia grabbed ‘Nevada’ roughly and dragged him out of the station to a squad car. She threw him in the back and got in the driver’s side.
“Liv, I appreciate you getting me out of there, but we need to go to Nevada’s place and get Y/N,” Rafael instructed.
“Screw that, I’m proving your innocence before anything,” Olivia scoffed as she drove towards the lab.
“OLIVIA,” He emphasized.
“RAFAEL.” She emphasized harder.
“Come on, Liv I know you don’t like her but--”
“Nevada’s not going to hurt her, you know that. I know that. She’ll be fine,” Oliva rolled her eyes.
“She won’t be FINE,” Rafael pounded on the glass between the front and the backseat.
He thought about your last conversation-- your last fight. He had told you that you hadn’t been ‘assaulted’, that you ‘enjoyed’ being basically raped. And now, you were back there.
You were probably just thinking how he’d be upset, how he’d react, when really he was just scared for you. He realized none of the other bullshit mattered. All that mattered was you, and him, and the love you both shared. And that had to pull you through, didn’t it?
------------
Back at Nevada’s place, ‘You’ changed into a see-through red teddy, and waited on Nevada. You knew that you were supposed to be under the elixir, so you had to act obediently, at least until Olivia showed up. She’d show up, right?
She had to show up.
35 notes · View notes
thatasianstereotype · 4 years ago
Text
Damn, You’re Looking Fine.
To my utter delight, my crack writing Fuck. I’m Gay. got a good reception. I was not expecting to write more for this AU/pairing. But why not? I got some ideas and a computer to write them down on.
So this fic is the took-a-while-to-put-together sequel. It’s focused on the downfall of one certain Liar-la, Damian wooing Adrien with all the flair and romantics as his Chaton deserves, and Adrien being a blushing hot gay mess. 
P.S. Damian’s formal way of talking is an utter pain to write but hilarious to read.
P.S.S. Creative liberties were taken. Again. I just feel this needs to be mentioned. 
.
.
.
So Status Update:
Adrien and Damian are definitely dating (It is totally official. Told you ya boi got game).
Adrien still calls him Hot-And-Sexy from time to time much to his utter mortification (He can’t make himself stop. Please send help). And Dami gets amused by it every single time, that arrogant smug jerk.
Marinette still puts the fear of god in Damian and he is wary of her. She feels very proud about that. Adrien wants to facepalm.
Fuck Gabriel Agreste.  
And Lila Rossi is still a bitch.  
Adrien and Marinette were made aware about Damian’s alter ego —well mostly because he is utterly terrified of Marinette’s seemingly sweet (icy) smile she gave him when she politely asked how he obtained the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous and partly because of Adrien’s pouting kitten eyes. 
They truly were a pair to reckon with. 
.
“I am not sure why the Justice League dismissed your concerns and pleas for assistance. So I am taking the initiative. My name is Damian Wayne, the son of Batman and the current Robin and leader of the Teen Titans.”
He’s a superhero too?! And it’s Robin!!! One of his favorites!! Can you hear him internally squealing in excitement?
Adrien bit his lip to keep from fanboying right then and there. But a slight pink hue spread across his face. 
“You’re not lying.” Mari has gotten pretty good at deciphering through people’s bullshit. Whether it’s because she is now a Guardian or because Lila’s bitchiness made her a human lie-detector remains unknown.
Damian took it in stride. “I am not.”
“Paris is still our city.”
“I am only offering my assistance.” He won’t barge in on their superhero duties to the city. He has more class than that.
Mari didn’t have to look at Adrien to know his decision.
She smiled, a bright genuine smile. “Then we’re allies.” Before her eyes gained a spark of mischief and her smile turned teasing. “Hot-And-Sexy.” 
“Marinette!” Adrien immediately covered his blushing bright red face with both hands, utterly mortified. 
His sister was evil. E. V. I. L. And why is Damian smirking and looking so smug? Fuck! He even makes that look completely hot. Curse his Adonis genes. And curse his teenage hormones. 
He regrets introducing the two of them together. What a pair they make. Truly a couple of fur-midable terrors here. 
.
Back to the matter at hand, Marinette is able to ensure that Hawk Moth and Mayura will never be out again and another akuma won’t be made. She already made sure that the miraculous were better protected. 
Damian has enough evidence to put them behind bars for their crimes but Marinette wanted to go through it and make sure that Adrien won’t suffer the repercussions of having a villain for a dad so they held onto it until they figure out how best to protect their sunshine. 
.
Ah Shit. 
“Duusu? Where are you?” 
Did Gabriel lose the miraculous again? 
But when he looked into the last place he left it, he groaned. Fuck. His brooch was a fake again.
He knew he shouldn’t have made a miraculous fashion line and had replicas of the miraculous jewelries made. It was his most popular items to date. He has gotten lot of praises for getting the details just right and capturing the essence of each miraculous holder. No surprise there. He deals with them on a daily basis. He should get the details fucking right. 
It’s a wonder he only came up with a line because there was talk that he was becoming obsolete with no new ideas coming forth and if there is one thing that Gabriel Agreste isn’t, it is being obsolete. 
The line was just a joke, a parody of the heroes and villains if you will, but apparently people like it. Ladybug and Chat Noir were the most popular obviously (he should’ve seen that coming to be honest). Hardly anyone buys Hawk Moth or Mayura and he is left with boxes of fake brooches. 
It is annoying.
Especially since he keeps fucking misplacing his miraculous. 
.
Adrien felt like he could be a Disney princess and just skip his way to school and sing for the world to hear. 
Now that the Butterfly miraculous were safely with Marinette, he doesn’t have to worry about another akuma. He could just die happy right now. His dad doesn’t have a hold over him anymore. He doesn’t have to put up with Liar-la anymore. But if they put up a fuss? Well, worst case scenario is he becomes a Dupain-Cheng. 
And he doesn’t mind. He’s already an honorary one. 
And if that somehow doesn’t work out (which he highly doubts), Damian offered to make him a Wayne. 
.
Françoise Dupont High School experienced a shock that morning. Specifically Ms. Bustier’s class. 
When they saw Adrien and Marinette walking in class with arms intertwined, laughing and smiling together. 
What the actual fuck?
Did they cross into an alternate universe? Marinette is a nasty bully and Adrien’s a pure sunshine child. Why would they be acting like they were the best of friends? 
Lila glowered darkly when she saw them walking towards the back and sitting at the same table. Didn’t Adrien care about what his father thinks? Doesn’t he want to still be able to go to school? 
She bit her lip and turned on the waterworks, her eyes close to bursting into tears. She made herself be the very picture of a pitiful woe-is-me victim as she cried out in a hurtful and betrayed tone. “Adrien, what are you doing with her? I thought we were close friends.” 
The sheep class instantly catered to Lila, pointing their fingers at the pair. 
Alya, her biggest supporter, led the charge as always. “Adrien! What do you have to say for yourself? How could you cheat on Lila like this? And with her?” 
Adrien narrowed his eyes at his former friend. Bitch, how dare she implies he was in an actual relationship and had feelings for that harlot. 
Wow. 
He has been spending way too much time around Damian. 
"Yeah, bro!” Kim said, raising his voice. “How could you do her dirty?” 
“Okay guys.” Adrien cut in. “I don’t know where you heard that but me and Lila are not dating. Like at all.” 
“Please.”Alya waved him off like he didn’t know what he was talking about (he was highly offended at the notion he didn’t know what his heart yearns for). “We all know you have feelings for Lila. You’re just in denial over them.”
Bitch, what?
Is no one catching onto his chaotic gay vibes here?  
And oh, how his fragile little heart was betrayed yet again when he saw Nino supporting his girlfriend. He still couldn’t believe the first friend he made all by himself was a part of their rabid pack. He deeply mourned the loss of such a great friend in the midst of that deceiving fox’s claws. 
“How many times do I need to say it?” At this point, Adrien was about to throw hands. “I don’t like Lila like that. I feel nothing but pure spite for her. Also, me and Marinette are not dating if anyone’s wondering. We’re just really good friends.”
“But Marinette’s a big bully.” Alix piped up, a hard edge in her voice. “She treats Lila horribly.”
“Marinette didn’t do anything to her. Rossi is lying.” 
“Oh Adrien.” It was Mylene of all people who spoke up. “Did Marinette get to you with her lies?” 
He was done. 
Completely and utterly done. 
He looked over at Marinette who shared his exasperation at the class’ antics. 
Adrien already said it before. But it bears repeating.
Lila Rossi is a bitch.
Luckily (or maybe unluckily), that was the moment Ms. Bustier chose to step in the room and class started. 
When the teacher’s back was turned, Adrien pulled out his phone and proceeded to spend the rest of the time alternating between taking notes and texting with Damian. 
They were currently at the stage of their relationship to be sending animal pics and memes back and forth, with a few puns added from time to time. 
He really does have the perfect boyfriend. 
.
They cornered him after school. 
One: Rude. 
And two: Double rude. 
He was excited to meet Hot-And-Sexy (daMn iT! It’s Damian! Get it right brain) at the bakery and spending time with his two most favorite people in the world (Tom and Sabine don’t count because actual parents don’t have a ranking). 
His former friends were looking all concerned and everything because they somehow collectively came up with the idea that Marinette actually brainwashed him to believe Lila was evil. 
The fucking irony. 
They actually had the audacity to say that Marinette —sweet and honestly badass Marinette— was no good and just wanted to use Adrien to get ahead in the fashion industry (as if Mari actually needed him for that). He shouldn’t be around her. Lila was a much better person to keep as company. 
Adrien laughed in their faces and left. 
.
Onto happier events, Adrien was having a blast hanging out with Mari and Dami. His boyfriend (he still can’t believe he managed to score such a hottie!) fit right in the everything-that-matters siblings’ dynamics. 
They were in Mari’s room. Adrien was cuddling with Damian on her bed. And Mari was at her desk working on fashion designs. 
“So what’s your family like?” He played with Dami’s hair. It was so soft. Like what the fuck. It is so unfair. 
Damian thought about it for a few seconds. “My family is a bit...crazy. We drive each other insane every other day but at the end of the day, I have no doubt they have my back as I have theirs.” 
“You guys sound close.” 
“We were not always. We had an extensive amount of issues to work through before we actually bonded as a true family.” 
It was quiet for a minute until Damian casually said. “I would appreciate it a great deal if you can make time to visit Gotham for the summer.” 
Adrien stopped playing with his hair to look at him with wide incredulous eyes. “Summer’s only two months away.” 
“I am aware.” 
“You really want me to meet them? Isn’t it too early?” 
“I met yours the day we started dating.” 
True but....
Adrien averted his eyes. “Do you think your family will like me? You guys fight criminals and my dad’s a villain.” 
Damian put his hands over Adrien’s and gave them a light squeeze, making his Chaton look back at him. 
“My mother is a villain and I was raised as an assassin. Yet despite of that, my father accepted me. And I am fairly confident he will do the same to you. Mon amour, you have a pure and selfless heart. You are a better person than I am. I have no doubt that my family will love you from the start. 
“Are you being fur real right meow?” Adrien tried to lighten the atmosphere but he could feel his eyes tearing up. 
"I wouldn’t lie to mew.” 
He let out a small laugh, wiping his eyes. How did he ever get so lucky to land such an amazing guy? “You always know the purr-fect thing to say.” 
“We get it you’re in love. It’s amazing. Now stop it with the puns.” Mari rolled her eyes, utterly exasperated at these idiots who just ignored her and pulled out even more cat puns. “You have got to be kitten me.” 
Before she noticed what she said and groaned in faux despair. “Oh you two are so dead.”
Adrien stuck out his tongue playfully. “You can’t catch me. I got a handsome knight in shining armor to protect me.” 
Damian interlaced their fingers. “Always, mon amour. I’ll protect you from everything like your wicked father.”
“Does that make me the dragon here?” Mari joined in. “Cool. I can breathe fire and torch people. Too bad I can’t do that to a certain liar.” 
“Liar-la is totally the witch here.” Adrien said before thinking for a few seconds. “Does this make me the princess?” 
“Well, knights always have to save the damsel in distress.” Mari said. 
He frowned before crossing his arms indignantly. “Dami, I love you more than Plagg loves his stinky cheese, but I’m no damsel in distress.” 
Damian rolled his eyes. “Tt. Of course not. You can destroy things with a single touch. It would be not be in my best interests to downplay your abilities.”
Adrien relaxed and beamed a sunny smile. “Good. Remember that.” 
“Mon amour, I look for an equal as a partner, not some weak spoiled harlot that can not defend their self.” Damian placed a flower crown (that was just sitting on Marinette’s nightstand, must be one of her projects) on Adrien’s head. “Having said that I do believe you are a prince that deserves all the love and care in the world.” 
And oh my. 
Adrien can feel his face burning scarlet and his heart almost bursting at how sweet this incredible, conceited Adonis was. 
He was falling in love with Damian over and over again each time they meet up. 
“You deserve love too, Dami.” 
And sweet, caring Hot-And-Sexy (Ah, fuck it. He will never grow out of that) placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 
Oh dear, he didn’t know his face can burned any redder. 
He could almost hear Mari cooing in the background. 
And in case anyone was wondering, Tom and Sabine adores their everything-that-actually-matters son’s boyfriend. Damian Wayne seems like a responsible young lad. And he makes Adrien really happy which is a major plus. Anything that makes their son happy is good in their books. 
.
Lila was not at all pleased. 
Why was Adrien suddenly hanging out with Marinette? Yeah, he doesn’t buy into her lies but she was confident he will be lured into her charms. Why wouldn’t he be? She was young and way more beautiful than a baker’s daughter. He was supposed to be hers. 
She and Gabriel are going to have a talk about his rebellious son. 
Except when she arrived at the Agreste mansion, Gabriel was apparently too busy to see her. 
He was too occupied with searching through boxes of fake miraculous to find Duusu to bother with her. 
“I don’t have time for you.” 
“Excuse me?!” 
She was aghast. How dare he speak this way to his biggest supporter —well, besides Mayura and Nathalie. 
“You’re excused. Now leave the premises.”
Before the door shut in her face and she was left fuming, her face an unflattering angry red. 
.
Being Damian’s boyfriend, Adrien has come to learn that Damian does nothing by halves. Including asking him out on a date. And the actual dates themselves. 
Today as the sun fell down and night came about, Damian and Adrien were taking a stroll in the park. It was relaxing and it was nice. They talked about everything and anything. 
Adrien did not think Damian planned anything more. 
But he really shouldn’t underestimate the son of Batman. 
Because when the last of the sun’s rays were gone, Damian led him to a gazebo strung up with beautiful lights giving the whole place an ethereal feel. And with the bright moon out tonight, it looked like fairies dancing in the garden. 
He didn’t notice Damian pressed play on his phone and classical music filled the air. 
He definitely noticed Damian bowing with a flourished and holding out his hand with a charming smile. “May I have this dance, Chaton?”
Adrien would have to be a huge fool to say no. 
“I’ll loved to.” He placed his hand in Damian’s and let the Adonis lead him in a simple waltz. 
This was his life. 
His life was one big sappy romance novel. And you know what, he doesn’t care if it is. Between dealing with his shitty father and Liar-la, this kitty deserves some happiness. 
.
It was a scene from one of those Disney fairy tale movies Adrien used to watch as kid. The magic. The love. The romantics. He felt like Cinderella and wished this night will never end, that the clock will never strike midnight. He just wanted to stay in his Prince Charming’s arms forever. 
Under the starry night sky, the lovebirds danced to their heart’s content and when another song ended, Damian tilted his head down to place a tender kiss on Adrien’s lips. 
“I harbor a great deal of non-platonic affections for you, mon amour.”
“I love you too, Hot-And-Sexy.” 
.
What the fuck?!
Seriously. 
What the actual fuck? 
Lila was simply walking home after her disastrous meeting with Gabriel (She was still not over how he simply dismissed her like she was nothing. How dare he). 
When she saw them. 
Adrien and some guy (she’s pretty sure that was a guy) dancing in the park. She can feel that disgusting jealousy just burning in her veins, a cold anger thrumming underneath. 
Things were not at all going her way. 
First, Adrien is back to being friends with that Mari-whore. Then, Gabriel ignores her. Her. And now, she is seeing her Adrien in the arms of someone else. 
Oh this will just not do. 
She took out her phone from her pocket and snapped a couple of pictures, making sure Adrien can clearly be seen. She didn’t care too much about the other guy. He’s probably just another pretty airhead Adrien knew through his father. He’s not important. 
A cruel smirk appeared on her face at the thought of the perfect revenge. Adrien was going to have a rough time at school tomorrow. After all, he should’ve known better than to make a move against her. 
.
“Seriously?!”
“Wow.” 
“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”
“Yeah. Adrien is obviously gay. That’s the only explanation.” 
“....Maybe not? There could be another reason.”
Lila had watery eyes and a sad frown on her face but inside, she was fucking smiling like a Cheshire cat. She made sure to be at school early so she can show the class the picture of Adrien’s little date last night. Who —predictably— were shocked at their sunshine child being with a guy and made plans to confront him about his supposed sexuality. 
She glowed at the thought of her plan working. This will teach Adrien to know his place or become a social pariah like his little friend Marinette. 
“I thought Adrien had feelings for me.” Lila wiped the “tears” from her eyes. “How could he lead me on like this when he’s been gay all along?” 
Alya —predictably— comforted her. “I’m pretty sure he’s just confused. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling.”
“I’m sure that’s it.” 
The pair didn’t notice Juleka and Rose glaring at them. 
.
Damian was not at all pleased. 
He was rightfully angry. 
How dare that poor sense of fashion taste trollop tried to shame his mon amour for being gay. How dare she try to say he was simply confused and didn’t know any better. How dare she defame his reputation because he holds nothing but spite for her person. 
How dare she. 
As Adrien’s boyfriend and future husband, it is his duty to correct this travesty and defend his Chaton’s honor. 
.
When the Damian Wayne, youngest son of Bruce Wayne, appeared at Françoise Dupont High School, you know that people are gonna stare and talk. 
When he headed towards the courtyard where Adrien and Marinette were sitting at, boy are things going to get juicy. 
Lila and her followers who were sitting a bit father from the outcast pair were utterly confused. They could possibly get Adrien knowing such a super hot celebrity but for him to be on good terms with Marinette too? How inconceivable. Absolutely flabbergasted. 
“Hey Lila didn’t you tell us you knew him and his family?” Max brought up. 
“Uhhh....” Lila knew she dug herself in a corner here. She never thought that the Damian Wayne would ever visit here. At this second rate school. 
“Well, let’s go, girl!” Alya exclaimed. “I’m sure Damian just hasn’t seen you. That’s why he didn’t walk towards you.”
Before proceeding to practically drag Lila to where Damian was talking with Adrien and Marinette. 
Lila, on the other hand, was cursing out Alya in a bunch of different languages in her mind while trying to come up with something to dig herself out of this mess. If they talk to Wayne, the class will realize she was lying all along. 
She was not going to lose control of her kingdom like this —well, not without putting up a fight. 
But when they and the rest of their classmates walked close to the trio, they were shocked when they saw Marinette playfully punching Damian in the arm. 
“Okay. How the hell are you so close with Damian Wayne?” Straight off the bat, Alya was on the offense as she glared at Marinette as if it was Mari who did something wrong. 
Damian answered before the bluenette could. His face was impassive and his glare cold. “I’m Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s top model for her fashion business.”
What? 
Even Lila was taken aback at the news. She knew that goody two shoes likes designing but she didn’t think anybody would actual buy her stuff. She didn’t think a Wayne would like her stuff. 
She could feel her fists clenched. How dare Marinette steal the spotlight again. 
“I’m also Adrien’s boyfriend.” Damian continued casually as if that wasn’t a huge bombshell. 
Everyone’s minds screeched to a halt. 
They knew about the possibility of Adrien being gay since Lila showed him on going on a date with an unidentified but clearly male person yesterday. But they didn’t think there was actually something there. 
Lila could feel her anger clouding her mind. Adrien was supposed to be hers. He was her ticket to fame and fortune. 
“And what about Lila? Aren’t you guys best friends?” Alya put her hands on her hips. How could Damian just ignore someone he is close friends with but give Marinette all the attention? Lila deserves better than that.  
Damian was unamused. “I don’t know her.”
“Yeah, you do.” Alya ignored Lila’s gestures to stop talking. Lila was too shy about her achievements and she was going to have her amazing best friend’s back. “She’s the one who helped your family out multiple times.”
“She did not. And I am appalled that you believe I would know a harlot like her in the first place.” Damian’s face twisted with disgust as he glanced at Liar-la like she was a mere insect. “Please. I have class and dignity.”
“Take that back!” She screeched. “You are so rude.” 
“Are you honestly going to lecture me on my rudeness when you plebians are being hypocrites?”
“What? I’m not a hyprocrite.” 
“Lila Rossi is a pathetic liar who begs for attention like street dogs beg for scraps. She never once saved Jagged’s cat nor does she help out with green charities. Lastly, she is not on close terms with myself nor with my family.”
“No! You’re lying!”
He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Ok then. Look her up on the internet. If she is as grand as you lot seem to think, she should have articles dedicated to her. Show me proof of her actions that isn’t your subpar blog and I will give you an exclusive.” 
Alya’s eyes gleamed at what should be an easy challenge. But when she pulled out her phone and typed Lila’s name and what she did in the search engine, her smile disappeared. 
She spent the next few minutes scouring the net for anything, any mention of a Lila Rossi that wasn’t on the LadyBlog. 
She found nothing. 
Lila Rossi was a fucking liar all along. And Alya and the rest of the class believed her. 
“We tried to warn you.” Marinette said in a soft voice. But anyone who knew her knew she was trying to hold back her laughter. 
“Marinette,” Rose cried out as she realized the class has been total jerks to the one person who always had their backs. “We were horribly wrong. Can you ever forgive us?”
She shrugged. “I forgive you. But this doesn’t mean we’re friends again. Because we’re not. Seeing how easily you drop me for that liar without even looking for any kind of proof hurts and I’m not eager to be friends again. Maybe in the future but not right now.”
“That’s goes ditto for me.” Adrien added his two cents. 
Their former friends classmates wore gloomy expressions, utterly devastated at ruining their friendship with their Everyday Ladybug and Sunshine Child. 
And with that, Adrien and Marinette left the courtyard, with light hearts and heads held high. 
Damian shot the class a razor sharp grin. “Well, it’s been nice to meet you.” 
Everyone knew he meant anything but. 
“I always knew teenagers were prone to be foolish imbeciles. But seeing the collective stupidity of you people today made me realize that the bar can in fact be lowered.” 
.
Adrien was fucking ecstatic. 
Elated. Overjoyed. Jubilant. Drunk on happiness. All the synonyms associated. 
Because Lila was finally exposed. The class realized what utter assholes they have been. His father will receive his due (soon according to Mari and Dami). 
He was happily humming a tune as he swung his and Damian’s intertwined hands back and forth. 
He was entirely grateful that Damian showed up to school today. Although he was a bit mean for Adrien’s taste. 
But oh man. Payback was so sweet. 
He smiled giddily. 
Mister Hot-And-Sexy definitely earned himself a kiss. 
Previous
Next
655 notes · View notes