#like everything you knew about social interaction just goes out the window but like. in a good way
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milfjuulpod · 1 year ago
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Special
req: yes
can you write a Melissa x Reader where reader is the new VP of Abbott and she’s just the most professional person ever. She doesn’t wanna interact with the staff in any way that’s not professional, she’ll refer to them by last name, has lunches in her car, doesn’t try to socialize unless it’s Melissa. Melissa never notices but reader is always lingering to watch her, calls her by her first name, goes out of her way to make sure Mel is never inconvenienced by anything at Abbott. it’s not until maybe Janine or Jacob, hell Gregory even point it out that Mel notices and confronts the reader about it. Reader responds in like the cheesiest way possible, something like “i was down bad for you from the moment i saw you” and Melissa just m e l t s!!
warnings: none
A/N: hello again 🧛🏻‍♀️ i absolutely LOVED this request, so i hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing :)) thank you for all the support !!
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After earning yourself your graduate degree, and interning at schools all over, you found yourself at Abbott Elementary. Despite its hazards here and there, you loved it. You maintain your poise and passion for work each day, staying on task and doing everything you could to help. 
       Being the Vice Principal came with a lot of responsibilities, especially working for Ava Coleman. Over the school year, just like the rest of Abbott, you grew to love her—but that didn’t mean she didn’t give you a headache every week. “Can you not eat in your car for one day and just come with me to this brunch?” Ava begged, but you knew better. “Ms. Coleman, if you’re going on this brunch, somebody has to stay here. Besides, you’ll be fine. I’ve prepared your folder for you and you nailed rehearsals,” you encouraged her. 
       Ava was preparing for a brunch with some people from the district, and as much as you wanted to go and support her, you had to stay. “You’re right, I did kill that last rehearsal. I guess I’ll go alone,” the principal dramatized, and left for her lunch. Walking back, you decided to do a quick sweep before heading into your own office. No harm in checking on everyone, right? You passed Mrs. Howard’s door, noticing her students taking a nap. She saw you through the window, and the two of you exchanged smiles before you parted. 
        “Oh, hey Y/N! I had a question for you,” a small, but loud, voice was heard from behind you. “Hello Ms. Teagues, how can I help you?” You turned to greet her. “You know you can call me Janine, right?” The shorter teacher gave you a friendly smile, and continued.  “Anyways, I was thinking about doing a project with my students, they started this new book and are just loving it! Honestly I was a bit surprised, but I guess when the kids are with me-”
       “The question you had?” You interrupted her. As much as Janine had a soft spot in your heart, you had work to do and a lunch to half-eat. “Right, sorry. Do you think Friday we could use the library?” She asked, shooting you puppy dog eyes. “I don’t see why not. Let me touch base with our librarian that week and make sure, I’ll get back to you.” You answered. 
        “Yay! Okay, I gotta pick my kids up but, thank you!” She yelled as she started to pick up speed down the hallway. You shook your head and smiled to yourself as you continued your walk, but quickly stopped in your tracks. Melissa’s door was open. For whatever reason, Melissa was…different for you. You never interacted much with people from your work life, never have. With Melissa you still kept your physical distance, but that didn’t stop the thoughts in your head that always came back to her. 
       Nervously, you leaned against the door frame and took in her room. She sat in her chair at the front of the room, book in hand, reading to her class. Every few sentences she would pick her head up and glance at her students, and each time you got nervous she would catch you staring. “The vine was alive! It was a long green snake! The snake fell from the tree, it splashed in the water and swam away,” Melissa read aloud. You watched as one of her students stood up from their seat. “Does the snake get Jack? Or Annie?” He asked. “I don’t know hon, that’s why we have to keep reading,” Melissa said to him, and motioned for him to sit back down. 
        “Sorry Ms. Schemmenti,” he apologized, albeit quietly. “That’s alright, I know reading can be very exciting. But let’s regroup, okay?” She regained everyone’s attention so quickly, and you couldn’t help but watch in complete adoration for the woman. You completely missed two teachers walk right behind you. Melissa went to go back to reading, but her head snapped back up immediately as she saw you standing. She waved for you to come in, and continued on. You sat there for the next few minutes, until it was time for her students to go to lunch. “Jacob is coming to get my kids, give me a minute and then I wanna talk to ya,” Melissa said to you as she stood up to get her kids ready. 
         You couldn’t help but study her every movement, the way she walked, the way she bent down to talk to the kids, everything. She had you wrapped around her finger like it was nothing. Melissa was, without a doubt, the highlight of your day. Every day. “So,” she started, pulling you out of your trance. “I need the library on Friday. I’m getting my kids ready for the science fair this year and I wanna try some bigger stuff with them,” she said. You could see the excitement practically glowing off of her as she told you about her plans. How could you say no? “Yeah! That sounds great. If I have time, I’d love to come see what you guys end up doing,” You told her. 
       “Yeah hon, you should swing by. I’d like that,” She responded. You tried desperately to ignore the way your heart pounded when she called you that, and went to make your exit. “It’s a plan. I have to get back to work but, I’ll see you around, Melissa.” She waved goodbye to you, and you went back to your office stomach full of butterflies. 
       Melissa wasn’t far behind you, although she was going in a different direction. She grabbed her things and headed towards the break room for her own lunch. “I’m not saying I don’t like her! I really like her, I just think it’s strange she still won’t call me Janine.” Melissa heard a voice she tried to ignore. She smiled or waved to those around, and made her way to sit down and eat. “She calls all of us by our last names, even Ava. She’s not social with us either, one time I think I saw her working and eating in her car. Are we not fun to be friends with?” Jacob frantically asked. 
       “No,” Melissa said in time with Ava, who was just walking in. “Are y’all talkin bad about my little helper?” She asked. Melissa, against her better judgment, chimed in. “She’s the Vice Principal, not just your little helper.” Ava sported a cheeky grin, noticing how that got under her skin. “Whatever, anyways, I came in here to tell you actually that the library is yours on Friday,” The principal continued her conversation with Melissa, although Janine was quick to say something. “Wait, what? I just talked to Y/N, and she said I could have the library,” she said frantically. “No, I just talked to her, she said I could have it. Sorry kid,” Melissa retorted. “Just because you’re her favorite, doesn’t mean you should get privileges,” Janine tried to say quietly, but she wasn’t quiet enough. “I am not her favorite! She doesn’t have favorites, she doesn’t like any of us,” Melissa argued. She turned her body more towards the table in front of her and crossed her arms. 
       “Oh come on Melissa, you don’t notice?” Janine poked. When she got no response, everybody decided to help paint the picture. “She calls you by your name. Your first name,” Janine told her. “She gave you the library over Janine,” Jacob added. “I saw her outside your classroom for like, five minutes today,” Gregory finished. Melissa was too stunned to say anything, both at everyone noting your behavior towards her, and the fact that she missed all of this. You didn’t wanna socialize with everyone, but everyone didn’t mean Melissa. 
       “Okay, okay, I’ll go figure it out. Sorry,” The redhead shot Janine an apologetic look as she walked out the door once again. Melissa felt her palms get sweaty as she got closer to your office. Now that she knew about all her little privileges with you, she didn’t want to say something and ruin it. Besides, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Melissa enjoyed the rare company you brought her. As she approached your door, Melissa took a deep breath in. After a quick mental pep talk, she knocked gently. Upon hearing your, “Come in,” she opened the door as slowly as she could. 
       Lifting your head to look at the door, your face lit up at the sight. “Oh! Hi Melissa, what’s up?” You asked her. Melissa closed the door behind her, and took a seat across from you. When she didn’t answer, you leaned in a bit closer and furrowed your eyebrows at her. Melissa couldn’t meet your gaze, and you hated it. “What’s going on?” You asked quietly. 
       “Why am I special?” Melissa blurted out. The both of you looked at each other, surprised at what she had just said. “I…I’m not sure what you mean by that,” you lied. “You told Janine she could have the library, and then went and gave it to me. You call me ‘Melissa’ but everyone else is last names only. And I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure I’m the only person you buy coffee for once a week,” the older woman explained. You felt cheeks turn as red as Melissa’s hair when she said all this to you, and now it was your turn to avoid eye contact. “Hon?” She pushed when you didn’t reply. 
      After a deep breath, you spoke. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it is about you Melissa but my god. From the first day I got here I…I can’t keep my eyes off you when we’re in the same room. I want to do everything I can to make your day easier or better or just to see you smile. Everything I do here is for you. You’re special, that’s it. And I like you that way.” When you finally looked back up, you saw tears forming in the green eyes across from you. 
        “You…you really mean that?” Melissa asked you, like she almost believed everything you said. “Yes!” You let out a defeated laugh, tears forming in your own eyes out of embarrassment. “Of course I mean it. What made you decide to bring this up today?” 
       Melissa shifted in her seat. “It was brought to my attention today, that I may or may not be your favorite,” she admitted. She tried to hide the smile that was forming, but it was clear she was happy to be your favorite person. You sighed, “Well, you are. I’m sorry that it’s affecting work now,” You slid your chair back a bit and started to mess with papers on your desk. “Woah woah woah, don’t get all sad on me now. I never said it was a bad thing,” Melissa said, reaching across the desk to stop your hand from moving another paper. You tilted your head in confusion, which led to Melissa giggling at you. She stood up from her seat and walked around your desk, turning your chair to face her.
       “I think I like being your favorite,” Melissa said in a much lower voice than you’ve ever heard from her. She rested her hands on either side of your chair, faces so close your noses were almost touching. You looked from her eyes to her lips, fighting internally which one to stare at. “Yeah?” You asked, so quietly you weren’t sure she heard you. Melissa nodded her head and when you did the same, she finally closed the distance and you were wrapped in the sweetest kiss you had ever felt. 
        After a few more kisses from Melissa, she finally pulled away. “I’m sorry it took me so long to notice,” She mumbled. You took her hands in yours and played with her fingers. “Don’t be, if anything I’m sorry it took me so long to actually do something about it,” You joked, which thankfully the older woman did find funny. “I think I was the one who did something about it,” Melissa corrected you. “Okay, fine. But either way, I’m glad you brought it up. Would you, maybe, want to kiss me again sometime? After dinner together?” Even though Melissa had just kissed you, you were so nervous about asking her out. 
      “I would love to, but I might kiss you before then.”
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pepsiboyy · 7 months ago
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HEARTBEAT - part one
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pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: after moving to massachusetts from florida, y/n lives with her half brother, nathan doe, who is part of a small garage band. their sassy guitarist, chris sturniolo, can't help but get on her nerves. but there's something about him. warnings: use of y/n lol, mentions of drug abuse, cursing, angst a/n: NEW SERIES ugh i hope you guys LOVE IT SO HARD i have been wanting to start this one for so long i would be in class brainstorming it AND NOW IM DONE WITH IN-PERSON SCHOOL so yayy i hope you guys love it!!!!! sincerely, apollo <3
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REWRITTEN : I REWROTE THIS HERE. feel free to read this one, the other part one has the same content with further elaboration and some stuff is moved around!!
"are you even listening?"
my eyes ripped from the window to my right.
"yeah, sorry." i mumbled.
massachusetts was so different from florida. it was so much cooler, and why is everything so close together?
i turned to my father, who i swear i only truly knew as a facebook post on my phone screen.
"i think your mom is gonna be so happy to hear that you-"
"she won't care." i chuckled softly as i took a deep breath and sighed, shrugging. "it's okay though. i'm trying to move past that."
as much as i loved my mother, i knew she was bad for me.
my mom was a major drug addict. i fearfully called the cops and child protective services upon finding her in a mental state i had never seen her in. after investigation and lots of court shit i didn't want to think about, i was sent to my father's. i never knew him personally. it was never anything toxic, we talked on social media. but he left shortly after i was born and had a son with a new woman.
my half brother, nathan doe, sat beside me scrolling on his phone.
i had never really spoken to him. he seemed like somebody i might get along with, but i had yet to interact with him.
i guess we would see how it goes.
terrible. it goes terrible. i sat in their guest bedroom for about fourty-five minutes, digging through all of my belongings to find my phone charger. i definitely forgot it.
with a deep sigh, i ran my fingers through my hair and stood to my feet quickly and made my way down the stairs and to the kitchen, where everyone was sitting. i blinked a few times.
"uhh.. hey?" i chuckled awkwardly, biting my lip before burying my hands into my hoodie's pockets. "so um.. i'm gonna run to that gas station we passed on the way here, i'll just walk, i need the fresh air." i breathed.
everyone seemed to exchange looks before they nodded and my dad stood up. "call me if you need anything."
i simply nodded and waved at everyone before heading out the door with a soft sigh, unknowingly slamming the door behind me.
the boston breeze really began to sting about halfway through the walk, even if it were only about three minutes i had really been walking. my headphones hugged my head and played loudly, blasting some of my favorite songs that i had on a playlist to calm down.
there was no reason i should have been so angry, but i think it's just the new environment truly getting to me.
i pulled open the door to the gas station and removed my hood, looking around. my eyes turned to the boy working at the counter, whose eyes were glued to his phone. i turned to look for a charger for my own phone, biting my lip in focus and frowning at the prices. "so expensive.. this is unfair." i scoffed to myself.
after grabbing the two boxes, one being a brick and the other being the cord, i let out a frustrated sigh and set them on the counter, a little harsher than i had anticipated to.
"woah there, i'm sensing some aggression. boyfriend start an argument or what?"
i turned to the boy working, my eyes wide. "excuse me?" i stared at him for a brief moment before scoffing and shaking my head. "none of your business, can you just ring me up please?" i stated firmly, getting out my card and inserting it into the reader.
after pressing a few buttons on the screen on his side, he threw his hands up in defense. "relax sweetheart, i'm just yanking your chain."
"what-?" i stared at him with an expression of disgust, pulling my card out and shoving it into my wallet angrily. i looked at his nametag and squinted slightly.
the boy set the two boxes into a bag and handed them to me, where i gripped the bag and stared at him. "i'm not your sweetheart, chris." i emphasized, quickly leaving and not turning around at the sound of him laughing to himself.
the knock at my door caused me to jump slightly, and i quickly sat up to make my way towards the sound. "what's up?"
i blinked when i saw nate looking at me, the hat on his head backwards and his sleeveless shirt loose on him.
"hey, so.." he blinked a few times as he looked away then back at me. "sorry, i know we haven't spoken much. but um. i'm part of a little band?" he mumbled, and i nodded and leaned against the doorframe as i listened closely. "i figured i should let you know, tuesdays and thursdays we play in the garage, we usually stop at about ten o'clock though, so.." he trailed off.
i looked at him and furrowed my eyebrows before looking at my phone, shrugging softly before setting it back in my pocket. i'm already forgetting the days of the week. couldn't have told anybody today was tuesday.
"that's okay with you, right?"
"yeah, of course. do your thing, man." i smiled reassuringly, and nate's entire expression visibly lit up a bit.
"'preciate it a lot, y/n. you're welcome to sit in and watch if you're interested."
i quickly shook my head and waved a hand. "no no, it's okay. i have some things to do anyway."
nate nodded and waved before he turned and headed down the stairs.
i shut the door and made my way back to my bed, yawning softly. nate seemed very sweet. i don't doubt we will get along in any way, i'm just awkward. and it seems like he is a bit too. pretty sure our dad is, too.
i sighed as i curled up in bed, watching youtube.
11:12pm. it was an hour and twelve minutes past the given time, and all i could hear was sound. just sound. below me.
i was growing frustrated with each second that went by.
fed up, i stood to my feet and stomped out of my room and down the stairs, allowing my arms to hug myself. i was wearing shorts and a baggy tee. the sound grew louder with each step that i took.
i swung open the garage door and looked at nate, slamming the drums, an unfamiliar figure strumming the bass, and-
"hey, y/n," nate stated as he stopped his movements and gave me a toothy smile.
i swear my face went pale.
"this is ben, and this is chris-"
"your name's y/n?" chris stated, his expression equally as shocked as he lowered his arms from his deep red guitar.
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the-roo-too · 2 years ago
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Can I request a Sullyoon fic where it’s a fake dating au where they both start dating to get the two people they like to be jealous for the reader and Sullyoon to simultaneously fall for each other while fake dating
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real you -> bandmate! seol yoona
-haewon keeps choking, kyujin gets to play a detective, it seems you and sullyoon are causing quite the commotion at nmixx dorm.
warnings: fake dating 🧀, reader has a crush on bae (same), sullyoon prefers lily over y/n at first (…also same), kyujin is the actual smart one
genre: fluff; crack; social media?
notes: sorry for the long wait 😺 hope you like it bestie 🫶 | this is kinda the first official request 🤭🤭
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“hello nswers!” your leader greeted the live cheerfully (or as cheerfully as haewon gets). the rest of you clapped along, smiling to the camera as some displayed the comment section on their phones. sullyoon, who was sitting next to you, had one device on her lap.
“what are they saying, unnie?” you asked the older girl in a hushed tone. she smiled in response, showing you the chat which consisted mostly of the nswers sending their greetings.
the seating arrangement was jiwoo, bae, kyujin, you, sullyoon, lily, haewon. jinsol- much to your dismay- wasn’t sitting next to you, but you tried not to seem bummed out on camera. it would seem suspicious, and it’s not like anyone knew about your small crush on your band mate.
you couldn’t even try to interact with bae, as she was occupied with the two youngest, the trio goofing around. they were clearly having fun so you decided to leave the younger girls alone.
you turned your head to look at the three unnies you had on your left. lily and haewon were quite busy (the leader was making fun of lily’s accent), which left sullyoon to entertain you.
to be honest, you never really interacted much with her. despite being of similar age, the two of you didn’t have much topics to talk about besides work related stuff. maybe this fairly busy live was your sign to make better friends with the other girl?
a shiver went down your back. you glared at the window, which jiwoo insisted needed to stay opened. she said something about fresh air, but now you were becoming fresh ice cube.
“you okay, y/n-ah?” you met sullyoon’s eyes and shook your head sideways with a small pout.
“i’m cold, unnie.” you whined as a giggle escaped her lips.
“come here, you little baby.” the older girl draped a arm over your shoulder, hogging you a bit closer.
„just don’t close the window!” you threw a playfully glare at jiwoo.
“yeah, fresh air. i remember.”
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“ah, you guys were so cute today! yoona why aren’t you babying me like that too~!” jiwoo fake cried after the live has ended. she was pouting at pointing at the couple comments that nswers left in the chat. most of them pointed out your little interaction with sullyoon and how ‘cute’ it was.
“i’m just less annoying than you, jiwoo.” you stuck your tongue at the younger girl.
“yah! unnie, she’s bullying me!”
“i don’t know which side to pick.” jiwoo looked ridiculously at haewon, who just shrugged her shoulders with a awkward smile.
“y/nnie? your phone keeps buzzing.” taking a glance in yoona’s direction, you could see your phone in her hand, the screen lighting up every couple seconds. the older girl passed you the device as you clicked on the notification banner.
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“oh god, it’s the manager.” you said with a worried look on your face. “he says he has some news?”
everyone in the room turned to look at you, some with equally surprised looks, others almost pitying.
“what does it say exactly?” asked sullyoon, leaning closer to you to take a look at the screen.
“he wants to talk with you and me before he goes back to the ceo.”
“text him back, see what’s going on.”
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you looked hesitantly at sullyoon. a awkward silence enveloped the room.
“is everything fine, y/n?” finally your leader spoke up.
“yeah, everything’s good.” you felt yoona look at you weirdly, but she didn’t speak a word. at the same time, bae finally stopped focusing on the two youngest members and directed her attention to the two of you. a small lightbulb appeared above your head. you glanced at the messages and back at sullyoon. “it’s great even.”
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“oh god.” that’s the first thing sullyoon said after the group went to get ready for nighttime, leaving you alone.
you just finished talking with the manager on your phone. he called shortly after the exchange of the texts.
“yeah. unnie, manager said the rest shouldn’t know it’s a fake relationship.”
“but they know us! not to be rude, but outside of being band mates, you aren’t the person i interact with the most.” you sighed, nodding your head. out of everyone in nmixx, yoona definitely wasn’t your closest friend.
“we could make it like love at first sight thingy?” thinking about it again, you cringed. “this sounds wrong.”
“it’s the best option we have, i guess. so what’s the story?”
“let’s say we interacted now, i guess we got closer during the live. there was a spark, boom. the statement should be released somewhere around the comeback so we have roughly one week to make a believable lie.” sullyoon nodded along, taking in your speech. she then looked you in the eyes, her face suddenly serious.
“before anything starts, i need to clarify one thing with you, y/n. there is someone among the group that i’m interested in. i don’t know if that makes our situation awkward.” a look of surprise flashed on her face when you visibly brightened at her news.
“no unnie, it makes everything easier!i like bae, you like someone, no hard feelings. we can try to keep this thing for some time, maybe they’ll react somehow, we break it up after the promotions and everything falls in place.”
“okay, i like that plan. it’s a deal?” you took sullyoon’s outstretched hand in yours, shaking it lightly.
“deal.”
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you were tying your shoes as yoona got you a matching jacket. the older girl thought that a ‘date’ between the two of you should happen, but the public shouldn’t know yet. so here you were, at 6 am getting ready to leave the dorm in hopes of finding some caffe before the people start coming for breakfast.
just as you were about to leave the dorm, the sound of quiet footsteps made you abruptly stop in your tracks.
“yoona? and y/n? where are you going at-?” haewon had to squint to see the clock in the dimly lit room. “5:10? should we get ready for practice? i thought we had a day off…”
“we’re going out for a coffee, unnie. we should be back before 7!” said yoona. your leader gave her a skeptical glance, then you, then she looked back at the clock.
“next time i see jyp i’ll ask him for a raise. you’re my new main arguments. kyujin burning the oven last week is the second strongest point.” with that, haewon turned on her foot and left back to her room, leaving you and sullyoon in a fit of giggles.
“let’s go, unnie?”
“mhm. i think i know a place.”
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“haewon unnie texted me. she says we should go back, i promised bae breakfast and lily is complaining about some singing.” yoona seemed to perk up at the mention of the aussie singer.
“finish that coffee then, y/n.”
“okay, unnie.” you downed the rest of the drink and stood up. before you could take out your card to go pay, sullyoon was already speed walking towards the counter. she caught your gaze just as she paid for the drinks, sticking out her tongue lightly in a playful manner.
when she came back to collect her jacked, you pouted at her. “i wanted to pay, unnie~!”
she laughed at your whining.
“next time you can try to race me.”
“there’s a next time?”
“yeah, they have great drinks here.” with that, you also threw on your jacket and the both of you left the cozy caffe. it was around 6:30, yet it was very chilly outside.
“i should have worn something warmer…” suddenly, something very side covered your eyes. when you moved it out of sight, sullyoon appeared to be without her hat.
“can’t have you getting sick on me, y/nnie. haewon would kill me.” she laughed, taking your hand. as you walked the way back to the dorm trying not to be spotted, you noticed how pleasantly soft the older girl’s hands were.
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the week passed with you two going on little outings. they were supposed to be pretend dates, to make the situation seem more believable for both your members and the public.
much to your disappointment, after bae nagged you for breakfast, she never had another problem with you going out with sullyoon. on the contrary- most members seemed really happy to see the two of you become closer. most, except for kyujin.
don’t get me wrong, she was happy for her unnies. but still, you could swear she side eyed you both when no one else was looking.
“so, how’s it going for you two, y/n unnie?” she asked during one breakfast. it was a peaceful day, and you didn’t expect the maknae to become suspicious before the news come out.
nervously, you glanced at sullyoon. “in what sense?”
“i just noticed you and yoona unnie got closer after the last live. it’s very cute!” your poor leader choked on the water she was drinking. while she suffered and fought for breath (started barking like a dog), you laughed awkwardly.
“i guess. it’s really fun to hang out with yoona unnie!”
“i know. does that mean you’re dating?” haewon, who was given another glass of water, choked yet again. with a frown on her face and a wet shirt, she looked up at the maknae.
“yah, kyujin. you’re doing the laundry this weekend.”
this time sullyoon spoke up. she played her part, reaching for your hand ever so subtly, but making sure bae sitting next to her could notice the move.
“no, kyujinnie. we’re just friends now.” she threw you a warm glance, which you were sure the maknae noticed.
“okie dokie~ whatever you say, unnies!”
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march 20 finally arrived. the release of the album and the news about you dating sullyoon. since the mv was already up, you only had to wait. your last ‘date’ the previous day was the confirmation dispatch needed. if your ceo was correct, the article should be up in a couple minutes.
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“haewon unnie is flooding my phone again.” you said, showing the device to sullyoon. the two of you were seated on your bed, while the rest had schedules. if it wasn’t for that, the whole group would probably bother you the moment the news came out.
“the group chat is going wild too. kyujin is sending some weird memes?” sullyoon showed you her phone, the messages flying by so fast you could barely read them.
“should we reply to them, unnie?”
“we’ll see each other in a second during the dance practice recording, i don’t think we should bother now.” the older girl had a point. your manager should arrive in a couple minutes to take you to the studio.
“okay then.” a notification appeared on your phone, showing that your ride was already there.
“let’s go?” yoona stretched her arm towards you to help you get up from the bed. she squeezed your hand gently before the two of you went to meet the manager.
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“i feel betrayed.” haewon had her arms crossed over her chest as you and sullyoon arrived at the dance studio. there was a small smile on her face, but you could tell she was trying to be intimidating.
a chorus of ‘same’ followed after haewon’s words, making you laugh.
“sorry guys! nobody was supposed to find out, if it makes you feel better.” you looked at sullyoon. as you spoke, she paid you all her attention. the rest rarely did that.
“y/nnie is right. we just weren’t as cautious yesterday as we should’ve been…”
your group talked some more, before the recording could being. what surprised you was that although the girls complained about finding out from dispatch, they were all happy for you.
to some extent, you felt bad about the whole situation.
during the water break, you looked around the room. it was weird. not in the sense that anyone was behaving weirdly. no, it was about you. about how surprised you were when bae stayed unbothered about the news. about how you were even more surprised to notice that you too didn’t care.
you glanced at the girl in question. she was laughing at something kyujin said.
‘i’ve liked bae for some time now…’
your gaze then fell to yoona, who was taking pictures to post later on instagram. she caught your eyes and smiled brightly.
like a switch flipped, you suddenly realised something.
‘but i think i like sullyoon more.’
⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰
nighttime is the best time to think. sadly, it wasn’t technically nighttime yet. most of the group were already back in their respective rooms. jiwoo just left, making it only you, yoona and haewon in the living room.
the leader looked at you. “as much as i made a fuss… i hope you both know i’m proud of you. this country isn’t the most accepting so coming out must’ve taken a lot of courage.” she nodded to herself after the little speech.
“thank you, unnie. it means a lot.”
“i’ll get going now. someone has to wake up the dorm tomorrow because i don’t trust you all won’t be late on your own. goodnight girls!” haewon went to hug sullyoon. she then came to you and delivered a soft kiss to your forehead.
“unnie!”
“goodnight kiss is mandatory for everyone under 19.” saying that, the leader left.
your eyes fell to yoona. she seemed quiet all of a sudden.
“is something wrong?”
“i don’t think i can do this anymore.”
“okay.” you nodded your head. then, a sudden realisation went over you. “wait, what?”
“this whole ‘fake dating’ thing.”
“i don’t understand unnie.” sullyoon looked at you with a unreadable face.
“i screwed this up!” she let out a frustrated sight. you felt something break inside you. she couldn’t even bear fake dating you, how could you think she could like you back.
“i-i don’t think i’m following, unnie…”
“what is there to follow? i fucked up! this- this whole thing is real for me, you know! the hand holding, the ski ship and now haewon unnie! i never felt that jealous of her and lily but with you-“ a smile overcame your face. maybe you worried too much.
“unnie?”
“what!”
“please, just shut up and kiss me.”
“I KNEW IT!” both you and sullyoon jumped up at the sound of someone shouting. you whipped your head, your gaze falling on kyujin. she wore her pyjamas and was holding a glass of water in her hand.
“kyujin?”
“i heard you a week ago, unnies! fake dating blah blah, you were meant to be! oh my god i should become a cupid i’m so good at this-!”
“kyujin?”
“yes, unnie?”
“go to sleep before i call haewon.”
⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰
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hella1975 · 2 years ago
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Bestie im starting college soon and you seem like a person with friends so like how do you do that
very flattered by this <3333 very much going to be talking from my own experiences here and as always when i give advice my word is NOT gospel so if you'd rather do something else than what i say then that's totally fine if anything i ENCOURAGE that. as lame as it is 'be yourself' is the worst best advice you'll ever get, otherwise you'll get stuck with people who aren't like-minded at all and it can be really suffocating (this is always what i have the biggest issue with bc i have a habit of just catering my personality to whoever im with, so none of my friends ever feel like they get me if that makes sense. so yes i objectively have a good number of friends and several functioning friendship groups that i enjoy, but at no point do i ever feel like ive taken the mask off, yk?)
so yes, unfortunately all of what i have to tell you is going to have the underlying assumption that you're taking 'be yourself' to heart. i mean it. one friend that knows you as some cringe online loser that likes anime is so so much better than twenty friends that think you're hot shit.
specifically for a college environment:
push yourself! ive said this kind of thing before, but i dont mean 'wake up an extrovert one day'. i understand it's hard and scary and social anxiety/neurodivergence is a thing, but teenagers arent actually stupid! they want to see you trying more than anything else. if you act a hermit who doesn't leave their room ever or go to any social functions and then gets upset when no one magically befriends them, then that was always going to happen. but if you try and reach out, try and make small talk whenever you're in shared spaces, try and be in group chats, try and put the effort in, then even if you dont succeed or you think you did a bad job, other people will still recognise the effort. genuinely it goes such a long way. of course the more things you do actively partake in, the easier it'll all get for you, but i dont want you to make yourself uncomfortable or wind up hating college altogether. push yourself, but dont beat yourself up if you need a time out every now and then
join societies! i actually didn't do this (unless you count women in finance which... i do not count) but i always kept this option in the back of my mind for if i couldnt make any friends on my course OR any friends in my accommodation. it's a sure-fire way of meeting people AND you can cater it to ensure they're similar to you by following your interests. also idk about other places but in the uk, societies arrange social nights amongst their club, so you go out to events and bars and move nights and shit together and you can create an entire social scene just through your society
don't give up. this is cringe but also true. i have two main friendship groups at university: my coursemates and the [insert their accom's name here] lot. you might notice i didnt say my flatmates and that's because my second friendship group, the one im in the most and am now living with next year btw!!, met me in a really random way. it started out with me sticking with 'the flatmate i dont like' as she's come to be named, who befriended our neighbour in the accom over from ours, who met these other two girls (flatmates with each other) at a social night I DIDNT GO TO, and now me, my neighbour and those two girls are super close and i practically lived at their accom all through first year. but i wasn't friends with those two girls until MONTHS into university, and as you can see, it was really random when it did happen. friendships are like that! if my mate hadn't gone to tequila night just for the tequila to run out and them all to go to the same afters by PURE CHANCE, then i wouldn't know two of my closest uni friends! how mental is that!
remember that everyone is in the same boat. idc how confident or hot some of these people are, i am telling you as a FACT of life that they are pure shitting themselves thinking they aren't going to make friends at uni. this is why it's key to be brave in the first few weeks before people start finding their feet. take advantage of their insecurity! the girl ive just spent three nights with in my uni city literally adopted me after an induction lecture we both had for economics because she came up to me and TO MY FACE went 'hey you seem really nice and i dont know anyone, can i stay with you?' and she's now one of my favourite people. not once did i go 'hey that's kind of a ballsy/weird thing to say' because i was too busy being RELIEVED that someone had come up to me, bc sure enough i was in my own mental spiral of 'shit shit shit i dont know anyone fuck what the fuck'. like genuinely just reach out to people OR latch onto the people that reach out to you. i remember one time i went to a freshers fair ON MY OWN and i was really embarrassed by that fact bc most people go with their flatmates or SOMEONE and i was on my own, so i literally just started talking to the girl next to me on the bus because she was on her own too. we did the entire freshers fair together and i never spoke to her again, but we totally used each other in that moment and there's literally nothing saying we couldn't have clicked and become the best of friends. you're all as pathetic as each other in those first few weeks, remember that.
all in all, good luck. it's a great time and i guarantee you you'll do great. im rooting for you anonstie, keep me posted!
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shigarakis-cumdump · 3 years ago
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An Unhealthy Obsession- Shigaraki x reader
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https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works
(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)
Summary: Short yandere fic based off the song “An Unhealthy Obsession,” by The Blake Robinson Synth. Orchestra. 
Cw: yandere and stalker tendencies
Word count: 1.9k 
.✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*..✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚✫*..✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*..✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚✫*.
Many people would call Shigarki the creepy type if they saw him on the street. Slouched over, face always buried in his phone with his hoodie covering the rest. He looked like your local creep who hung around popular stores and malls by himself. He would go to one mall in particular, even more so after he realized they had a Game Stop there. He would frequently go in to browse, and while he was checking out one day, he met you behind the counter.
“Will this be all?” you ask in your sweet customer service voice, with your head slightly tilted. Shigaraki froze in place. No one this pretty has ever talked to him before.
“Um, yeah, that’s all.” he says quickly, looking down to the ground while you're bagging his games.
“This one’s my favorite; I’ve been playing non-stop since it came out, have fun with it!” you say as you hand the bag back. And you play games? Could it get any more perfect?!
“Thanks,” he managed before walking out of the store and finding the closest bathroom. He locked the stall door and sat down. With his heartbeat in his cock, he couldn’t stop thinking of how innocent your voice sounded, and how pretty you looked. He decided from then on you were his next obsession.
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Shigaraki visited the store so often he learned your schedule. He would watch others make small talk with you, and it made him want to steal you for himself. His blood boiled when someone else would make you laugh. Soon enough, seeing you at your work wasn’t enough. He wanted to know more about you. So he followed you home one day. He kept his distance, being too scared of appearing creepy to people around him. You lived a few blocks away from him, who knew!This made it very easy for Shigaraki to stake out across the street and just watch you for hours. You always kept your windows open, maybe for the natural light? He appreciated it though; in his eyes, you left your blinds open for him. So he could watch as you dance around your room with your dog, and then relax and watch tv, hugging a pillow as you accidentally fall asleep. You were precious, and he realized all you wanted, all you needed, was someone like him to cuddle up into, to make sure you were safe. After all, there were too many creeps who could hurt you- he was just making sure they didn't get to you.
Shigaraki made it back to his place, but you never left his head. He went from sitting in the bushes, to sitting hunched over his desk, looking up your name on every search engine imaginable. “Bingo!” he says once he finds your socials. He scrolls down your page, seeing your stories about going to conventions earlier in the summer, spending time with your friends and- oh? What’s this? You were hugging a boy in this picture. Shigaraki zoomed in to get a good look at his face. “Why would you want a bastard like him?” he grunted angrily. He clicked on his profile and saw a post of you two eating at “your favorite restaurant” together for his birthday. The post was from the beginning of this year, so maybe you weren’t still with the guy. I mean Shigaraki didn’t see anyone while he was stalking you, which was a good sign.
Over time, his camera roll would fill up with screenshots of you off of your profile, shaky pictures he snapped of you while you were working, etc. He was in the store just when you worked now, because any other time he was following paces behind you to wherever your pretty feet were taking you. Stepping up to the counter with a few games, you began checking him out. His voice low and quiet as he asked, “Do you play games often?”
“Oh sure! Whenever I have free time, really. But lately I’ve been too busy. We should totally play together sometime!” you beam. Play together? He wanted to do a lot more than that .
“C-Cool, then I’ll see you through a screen next time,” Shigaraki scratches his neck awkwardly. You give him that practiced smile you show to all the customers. “Oh, what time do you get out?” he asks, and you give him a confused look. “S-so I know when to hop on! Just in case..” he drifts off, trying to keep cool. You tell him around 8, and he leaves. That’s perfect. Gives him just enough time to run some errands.
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Shigaraki went to the hardware store and got the smallest cameras he would find. He hurried over to your place, and prayed the key was still under the rug where you left it. And it was! He unlocked your door, and your small dog ran up to him, jumping on his leg. “You’re a friendly little guy, aren’t you?” he says, leaning down to pet the dog. Don’t get distracted ! He reminded himself. He began by setting a few cameras up in your room, one facing each corner. This gave him a perfect view of your bed, desk, and closet. While he was in there, he picked up a piece of thin red fabric off the ground. He inhaled deeply, to smell a sweet and salty scent. He shoved them into his pockets for later, and finished placing the cameras.
Back out in the living room, your dog was following him around. Shigaraki knelt down and gave him a pat. He read the dog's collar; apparently his name was Shiro. Cute. “You want something, Shiro? You need some food?” he asked, looking around for his dog dish. He found it and filled it up and then sat on the couch. He took your panties out of his pocket, giving them another whiff. The smell shot straight down to his groin, heating him up. He pulled his phone out and went to his album just for you and scrolled through the pictures. He loved you so dearly, and one day you would know just how much he cherished you. He played back the small interactions the two of you had, and all the memories you’d have together in the future. He palmed his hardening cock, head leaning back on the couch.
It was 6:30, he still had a few more hours before you were back. He revealed his dick from his sweatpants, his tip leaking pre. He put your red panties in his hand, and started to jerk himself off- the soft lace brushing against the underside of his dick. His breathing became hitched and sporadic at the thought of you underneath him making the same noises. No, he wasn’t experienced, but you would teach him everything he needed to know!
“Y/N… god you’re so tight..” he groaned. His hips thrusting up into you as you let out lewd noises for him. He grabbed your face and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
“God please- fuck, I’m close, Shiggy!” you whined under him, twitching with your back arched and a tit in his mouth. The thoughts that filled his mind went directly to his cock. Shigaraki humped his hand, wishing it could be you, waiting for when it was you. Maybe you’d even fuck on this couch, who knows. He quickly finished and made sure to leave nothing behind before heading out and staking out behind the bushes again.
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You throw yourself on the couch as always, sitting where he sat just an hour ago. You made yourself some tea as you turned the tv on. It wasn’t too late, meaning Shigaraki could watch you for a bit.
A little later, you make yourself dinner. You take the trash out and leave it by the road. Shigaraki, being the weirdo he is, makes his way across the street, dangerously close to your front window, to snoop through your trash. There had to be something good in there. . He rummaged through your trash to find empty take out containers, some paper, and- chapstick? He wasn’t big on using it himself, but if it was yours, it was automatically going on his lips. He thought of it like an indirect kiss from his one and only. It had a taste of sweet strawberries, probably what you would taste like if he ever had the chance to kiss you. One day, he keeps telling himself. He pulls out his phone to check your room cameras and he sees you starting up your pc. Right! You asked to game with him earlier!  Shigaraki raced back home to load his game, praying he would find you in one of the local servers. There was FlameThrower2050 , TheRadicalDude , SuckItRight , and Shiro’sCloud online. You had to be the last one. He shot you a direct message, asking if you were up for a game, and you said yes. You actually said yes! Of course, you didn’t know it was him. You went into a private lobby and you turned on your headset. “Hey, can you hear me?” you asked innocently. Your pure voice went right through his heart. “Uh yeah, you sound great,” he blurts out. “Oh, Shigaraki?” you remembered his name?! This left him ecstatic. The game starts and you play a few rounds, Shigaraki being in heaven. You ended up beating him. In every. Single. Round. A bit embarrassing for him, but you laughed it off and didn’t make fun of him for it. Oddly, that stuck with him. You were so nice the whole time- he couldn’t wait to talk to you at work tomorrow!
It was getting late, which is why you had to go, which also meant Shigaraki got to watch you on the cameras. He pulled out his phone, switching to the view of your bed. You crawled in with just panties and an oversized shirt on, how cute. You scrolled on your phone for a little, until it dropped on your chest and you fell asleep. Your phone battery is gunna die, silly… Shigaraki thinks to himself. He could always go over and plug it in for you. No! That was too dangerous!! What if you wake up when he’s standing over you? Certainly that’s not a good impression to leave. He argues with himself for a bit before he’s out of the house, running down the street. His feet carry him all the way back to your place. He grabs the key and goes for the door. It was unlocked. You left it unlocked for him? How nice of you! He sneaks in and Shiro is quick to jump on him. Shiro took quite a liking to him. He tiptoed over to your room, looking at your sleeping body through the door crack. He opened the door slightly, going in and looming over you. He pried the phone from out of your hands and plugged it in for you. You would thank him later; tomorrow! When you’d see him next. Shigaraki zoned out, watching you sleep soundly for a good hour, stealing pictures of you while you were snoring, and getting a quick sniff of your hair. He had stayed there a lot longer than intended, the sun starting to rise. He snuck out of your room and locked the door on his way out.
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“Oh, hey!” Shigaraki hears your pleasant voice call out to him from the counter. “Last night was a lot of fun; how about we play again tonight?” you ask him. He immediately says yes, his heart doing flips in his chest. This was the start of something good.
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dannythedog · 2 years ago
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Okay real talk for a second (this talks about mental health and stuff and I'll tag it with personal and mental health just in case you want to block those tags. This is basically just a long rant about me)
I've been a fan of gvf for over a year now. Majority of this time I've been traveling to go see them in concert and it truly has been the time of my life. I'm terrified for what's gonna happen to my mental health when my last show comes and goes.
Let's start at the beginning, shall we? I first discovered gvf back in the summer of 2018 (My official gretaversary is July 2021 and I happened to discover them in July of 2018. Wild right?) because some of my friends in high school absolutely loved them. I listened to Highway Tune and Safari Song and did not like it at all. My music taste was basically Harry Styles and Fleet Foxes back then lol so I thought maybe if I looked at a picture of them and thought they were cute it would help. Didn't find them cute either lmao but I believe this was the universe telling me it wasn't my time yet.
Flash forward to summer of 2021 and I am now 19 (turning 20 literally two weeks later) and moving away from Michigan all the way to Wyoming. It was exciting and new, but I didn't realize how difficult it would be even though I knew I needed out of Michigan. I spent the first month getting settled but realized I was having a pretty tough time adjusting. That's when greta blew up on tiktok. I was in the height of my Queen phase and didn't think I had enough room in my heart for another band, but I could not get these funky little dudes out of my head. I finally gave in and listened to Heat Above (I was actually trying to find You're The One but I didn't know the name of the song LMAO so I got it mixed up) and I was completely blown away. I stood at my bedroom window, gazing at the mountains and practically ascending because of this song. I was hooked. I wanted to know everything about them. Once I was over listening to Heat Above every single day, I started listening to their whole discography at work and completely fell in love. This band was giving me hope that everything would be okay and that this tough transition would only be temporary.
For the next year, I would be following them all over the country, starting this blog, meeting some of the most amazing people I've ever met, and finally discovering who I want to be. Everything sounds fine and dandy, right? Wrong. I put my mental health into the hands of a band. I've become reliant on seeing them just to feel okay. I wake up in the morning and think 'only x amount of days until I see gvf!' and that keeps me going. This scares me. My last show is rapidly approaching and I am terrified that I will fall into this horrible depression because I don't have these shows to look forward to anymore. I'm in too deep. Sure seeing content is great and all, but traveling and seeing them right there in front of your face is so addicting. I haven't met a single person in Wyoming. All of my friends are through gvf or back in Michigan. This band has been giving me the social interaction I so desperately need.
I am endlessly grateful for this band and all the opportunities they have given me, but I am just so scared at what this has turned into. I want to reiterate it's not the social media part of this, it's the live stuff. The real stuff. I'm so attached to being in that crowd or gripping that rail while I have the time of my life in front of these men. I don't know what I'm gonna do
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side-writes-fanfics · 3 years ago
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Late-night talks || One-shot
Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader
Word count: ≈2000
Genre: it was supposed to be angst but it's really just fluff
Tw: Sukuna is kinda ooc, ngl
Summary: usually, you'd talk to Yuuji during the nights you felt restless but today, it was very much different. One night started a habit that definitely shouldn't have started.
Feel free to leave a or two or more request in my asks!
Masterpost | Asks/Requests
ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ
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(Y/N) walked down the long dormitory halls, her insomniac brain refused to allow her to rest after the hard day she’d had. On one hand, it was fantastic, filled with thrill and learning opportunities! On the other, however, the girl had gone through so much intense training and failure that she wanted nothing more than a good night's sleep. And yet, the thoughts in her head flew and a high speed and there was no way in hell that they would stop any time soon. So, as any sane person would do, instead of reading a book or being productive and taking the time to practise some techniques that wouldn’t blow the entire room up, (Y/N) decided to knock on Itadori’s room door and mess his sleep up as well.
Her hands made contact with the wood once. Then quickly twice. Then three times before the door opened to reveal the figure she had been anticipating. Only something seemed a little off. While she wasn’t thinking Itadori would be wearing a shirt as it is the middle of the damn night, the markings on his entire body suggested that it wasn’t Itadori who stood in front of her. Rather, Sukuna had taken over his body for the night and wasn’t planning on leaving the boy alone.
“You really want him to be dead tomorrow, huh?” (Y/N) whispered to the curse, chuckling at the thought of Yuuji not being able to hold his eyes open for long enough to get out of bed, let alone all the “fun” activities Gojo said he had planned for us. Now, you might be wondering why the absolute fuck were you not shaking in your boots at that very moment? I mean, you’re talking to the King of Curses, the man himself. This guy could probably snap you in half with one movement if he wanted to. Well, for one, you had no boots to shake in as you were walking in the stupidest pair of slippers money could buy. Secondly, Sukuna was well aware that if he hurt you, or any of the students of Jujutsu High for that matter, his life would be cut much shorter by the president of the school without any hesitation. Even Gojo couldn’t do anything about it because he cared for you just as much as Itadori. He cared for all of the students the same, no matter how much others thought Yuuji was the only one who got his love. (Y/N), of course, knew this and took advantage of it as much as she could, without pushing the limits and getting herself into danger.
“You’re the one talking, pipsqueak,” Sukuna said, shooting the girl an unamused glare. “Coming in the middle of the night to wake up this brat isn’t much better than what I’m doing.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, walking past the curse and into Itadori’s room. Sukuna stared at her confused but before he could continue further, (Y/N) cut him off.
“Get in the room and close the door. If Gojo catches me out of my room at this ungodly hour of the night, I’m gonna be dead and if you get caught with me, it isn’t going to be taken lightly by the higher-ups.” The girl made her way over to the bed, making herself comfortable while Sukuna listened to her orders, even though he didn’t want to.
“That sounds like you’re the one who causes all the trouble here and not me.”
(Y/N) smirked, letting out a little chuckle. “And yet, I don’t care about that much.” She propped herself up, now in a sitting position. Sukuna rolled his eyes at her, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.
The two stared at each other in silence. What were you even expecting? Neither of them was used to being in each other’s presence. They barely interacted due to reasons outside of their control. (Y/N) went on missions a lot, barely spending any time in the presence of Itadori. When she did have time to hang out, Sukuna never actually spoke or came out and showed his presence. Sukuna didn’t want to talk because he did enjoy the company and anything he wanted to say at first would have just made her leave. (Y/N) didn’t want to speak up because of her poor social skills. Everything she knew about socialisation, which wasn’t that much, had been thrown out the window by the lack of contact she had with other people. To be frank, even if they sat in silence (Y/N) would have sat there until the moment she was tired. It was better than being alone in her room staring at the ceiling.
“Why’d you even come here in the middle of the night?” Sukuna spoke up, not wanting to leave the room silent. Unlike (Y/N), he hated the silence. He could not take it. When the curse was on his own, whether it be in the form of Itadori or inside of his domain, Sukuna didn’t mind it. He was left alone to his own devices and was able to do as he pleased, but being around another person in complete silence drove him crazy.
“Uh… I couldn’t sleep.” her body positioned herself in a sitting fetal position, resting her head on the top of her knees. “Yuuji lets me come to his room when that happens and we just chat about random things until I feel tired.” Both of them stared at each other, waiting for who was going to speak next. It was hard to keep the conversation going as of now, both of the participants carefully thought about their words as to not upset the other. Still, (Y/N) said something to fill the silence: “What about you? Why are you in control of Yuuji’s body?”
“I felt like it.”
(Y/N) blinked at him, not believing her ears. “That’s… that’s it?” she said in disbelief.
“Are you not satisfied with that answer, pipsqueak?” The man crossed his arms and lifted a brow. The girl crossed her arms as well, pushing her back against the wall behind her. She contemplated once more all the choices she could make at this moment, though, to an outside view, (Y/N) looked as if she was scared to say anything at all. Sukuna’s chuckle broke her out of her contemplative daze. “It’s boring inside of where I am for days upon days upon days. Sometimes I need to feel alive, even if it’s just switching with this brat and walking around his room.”
The girl let out a ‘hm’ sound, nodding to indicate she understood his reasons. Slowly, the two began having normal...ish conversations without the awkward pauses between topic and sentences. They began to slow as if they’ve been long term friends with natural progression. And as all natural progression goes, this became a regular thing. (Y/N) couldn’t sleep more often, Sukuna wanted to walk around the world more often, them talking happened more often. Though, these little meetings in the middle of the night that consisted of senseless trains of thought being put into words stayed secret between just the two of them. Not even Itadori knew that (Y/N) snuck into his room as often as she did. Yuuji knew and welcomed her coming to his room to speak to him when she needed company. There were times where she snuck in and Itadori was in his own body. The girl hated to admit it but she felt sad when she couldn’t speak to the curse inside his body. Indeed, she should have felt ashamed but something just didn’t let her. (Y/N) liked Sukuna’s company. Even with the… talks about not so good things he’s done that were bound to come up at some points in time.
There came a day where (Y/N) realised it. Realised that she, as a jujutsu sorcerer, shouldn’t feel the way she feels about him. He's done so much wrong. Why does it not bother her that much? She stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts haunted her throughout the day, not letting a moment pass without her thinking about it. It was obvious she wasn’t going to sleep tonight. Leaving to go talk to the curse, however, seemed to be a tiny bit paradoxical. Her worries were caused by him. She didn’t want to end the friendship they had built. Then again, was this really for the best? Were the talks really a smart idea? Was continuing to see him and forming an emotional bond going to bring anything but pain and sorrow?
Knock, knock, knock.
‘Who could be knocking on her door at 3 in the bloody morning?’ the girl thought to herself, getting up to answer the door. As soon as she opened it, she mentally slapped herself for being stupid. I mean who else could have it been other than the curse himself.
“I see you’re awake,” he said, “though, you decided not to come and talk to me.” A brow lifted on (Y/N)’s face.
“And you decided to come to me instead, huh?” she smirked at the man, moving to give him space to enter the room. “Have you started caring about me? Have you softened up to little old me?” she poked and teased him, trying to forget what she’d been thinking about moments before. Sukuna entered, only to stop in the middle of the room.
“I need to talk to you about something…” her heart stopped. ‘Shit shit shit and shit.’ her thoughts became quicker and her heart raced as if it were running a marathon she was not ready for. Why would she have said what she said? Was it that she got too comfortable around him. “What you said… about me caring about you…” he paused, trying to find the words to say. (Y/N) looked at him turned away from her, anticipating his next words. “It’s true… I am softer towards you than anyone else. In these past two months you... You’ve made your way to my heart. You make me feel. You make me feel,” he said quietly, fiercely, making (Y/N)’s heart skip a beat or two. He turned towards her, his face more serious than you’d want it to be in this moment. “and I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”
(Y/N) blinked. Absolutely taken aback at his words. “I’m sorry, what?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He confessed that he cared about her. That she made him feel a certain way. And yet somehow he’s rejecting her? Nothing makes sense. She didn’t even confess to him and she feels hurt. “I… don’t-”
“Why do I feel like this?” Sukuna cut her off and stared at her, hoping she would solve the problem with a few simple words.
“I- I don’t know why you feel like you do!” she squeaked out, still unsure what was happening, “I mean I don’t even know how you feel.”
“I don’t know either.” (Y/N) paused, lifting her hand towards his. Her eyes flicked towards his, silently asking permission to hold his hand. He squinted at her. For a man who claims to be a genius and has years and years of life experience, his social skills seemed to be lacking when we’re talking about kindness. The girl kept quiet, putting her hand closer. It gently touched his, sending a clearer message of what it was she wanted. Sukuna let out a slight ‘oh’, before embracing her hand into his. Her heart skipped a beat again. She cursed herself silently, understanding that she was feeling the same way as he was.
“What are we going to do, pipsqueak?” Sukuna asked her, confused out of his mind. It was rare that anyone saw him as bewildered as he was right now.
“We’ll… figure it out I guess…” a smile tugged at (Y/N)’s lips. It was terrifying, there’s a lot in their way and a lot of things they have to set straight, but for now, this seemed to be the most they could do.
ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ
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azucanela · 4 years ago
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chapter ii
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
warnings: cursing. mentions of a bomb.
word count: 3k
summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.
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series masterlist
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THE MEETING WAS NOT SUCCESSFUL. AT ALL. Or at least, that’s how it seemed in Y/N’s eyes. Seeing as the only thing that had come out of it was… spending more time with Bakugou. Which was the opposite of what she wanted to do at the moment seeing as she despised him. Y/N actually had a feeling that any further interactions with Bakugou would only end in more chaos. So, Y/N decided she would set to work, as she would any other day. 
Ignore the problem until it goes away, right?
Slipping on her hero costume feels like a chore, pulling the gloves of her suit on with a grimace. They only served as a reminder of her inability to fully control her ability— though Y/N was known as someone with some of the most impressive quirk control. There was always that underlying feeling, of course that feeling never belonged to her. It had always been hard, shutting out the emotions of others, Y/N had found that those who feel the most strongly were the ones she would avoid.
Clearly she had failed.
Regardless, those emotions tended to be distracting as she went about her day. Y/N had learnt to ignore them, to block them out for periods of time, but in a career like hers it was unavoidable. The pain, the rage, the panic, the pure feeling of fear. It could get overwhelming and that often put her at a disadvantage. Emotions were viewed as a weakness, and oftentimes allowing your emotions to get the best of you resulted in unnecessary deaths. But allowing the emotions of others to do so? 
It got even worse when she actually activated her quirk to its fullest extent.  With a single touch, she could utilize the abilities of a person— all their abilities. When it came to quirks, if you controlled your quirk well, so could she. Otherwise, she would adapt the skills of a person, their intelligence, their athleticism, even their hobbies. Y/N could even the fact that she’d made it through UA to this ability. After all, she’d never been athletic, but her classmates had been. 
But her setback had always been a pain, especially in battle, Y/N felt the pain of whoever’s quirk she mimicked. If they were shot, Y/N felt it as if she had been shot as well. She’d never experienced someone dying on her. Nor did she want to. But Y/N was capable of holding as many quirks and capabilities as she could handle— and pain added up very quickly. 
It had been worse when she was younger, but Y/N had grown during her time at UA, and now she was capable of ignoring the emotions of others to an extent, and her pain tolerance had grown exponentially. 
Y/N was grateful for her success, for the agency she’d been working at. She was not grateful for the looks she got on the way there, Y/N could feel the whispers of those who watched her enter as they walked past. Though she could only hope her own staff had more respect for her. 
Her lips pressed together into a tight lipped smile as she entered, and Y/N found herself bracing for whatever could greet her. And to her delight, it appeared that everything was normal. Save for Lorelai’s presence by the entrance, her phone in hand. As though she had known Y/N had entered, the girl in question looks up from her phone before Y/N even has the chance to speak.
“We need to go over our plan, Y/N.”
In response, Y/N waves her off, continuing down the corridor. She smiles to those who greet her, mumbling back to them as Lorelai follows her. “Actually, I need to plan my first patrol of the morning.” She says, looking back to her friend momentarily.
“Then I’ll plan. And my plan includes a real nice fake dating scheme, kinda like those movies.”
Almost instantly Y/N turns around, glaring at Lorelai— who simply offers her a smile in response, clearly pleased with herself as she begins to move alongside Y/N rather than behind her. Y/N had no doubt that they would plan a fake dating scheme if it came down to it, unless she got involved that is. “So?”
“Well, the fake dating scheme was an actual option but you clearly don't like that.” Lorelai mumbles out in response, now holding a tablet as she guides them into a room. “Aside from that, basic press events together,” Lorelai looks up from her tablet pointedly, “where you actually look like you’re enjoying yourself, should amend the situation easily enough.”
Y/N raised a brow, taking a step around the long meeting table where those who worked at Hawk’s agency would soon congregate for their weekly assignments, “a little too easy if you ask me.” She looks to Lorelai, “Bakugou agreed to this?”
“I’m sure his PR team will convince him.” Came her response, shrugging as she took a seat on the table and crossed her legs. “We can do a public statement but there’s no real reason for making this a bigger thing than it already is. It would only end badly.” 
With a frown, Y/N’s eyes drift back towards the window. They’re still on the first floor so it’s not like she’s seeing much, but it’s almost astonishing, how there are people just… going about their days without a single fear in the world. All Might’s downfall had eradicated the mindset but on days like these it felt as though not a single thing had changed. As though there weren’t still dozens of underground organizations planning horrid things, and there weren’t hero agencies like her own devising ways to stop them.
Hero Society was a fragile, and corrupt thing. 
Y/N had watched as they threw children into every battle, she remembered when she’d been forced to do such things herself. She had watched her comrades, her friends, nearly die for a cause they were too young to comprehend. And she watched as civilians criticized them for not doing enough. Why did her publicity even matter? Shouldn’t that be the least of her concerns? Y/N found it funny that she needed to do well in polls to do her job well. It was the only real way to guarantee access to certain information that low ranked heroes didn’t get. 
With a sigh,Y/N turns back, brows furrowed, “so when does this start?”
Placing the tablet beside her on the table, Lorelai rests her palms against it and leans back against them, “next week probably. Haru still needs to work out the details with the rest of the PR team and Bakugou.” 
A small laugh escapes Y/N as she mumbles out, “it takes a whole team to keep that man from ruining himself.”
“Most Pro Heroes have a PR team, Y/N. You’re one of few exceptions.” Lorelai corrects, looking to her. It was true, Y/N was aware that more popular heroes often had teams of people coordinating their social media, schedules, public outings, and more. 
Y/N tilts her head at Lorelai, “why is that?” 
Lorelai raises a brow at her friend’s words, “what, you want to get rid of me?”
Y/N laughs once more, shaking her head, “no… it’s just—” She turns to face her friend, “when I hired you I couldn’t really afford anyone else. Now I can. But you do all the work by yourself.” Biting her lip, Y/N asks, “why is that? I could get you an assistant or something, easily.”
“Well you aren’t exactly the most problematic,” Lorelai responds, offering her a small smile.
Nodding, Y/N pulls out a chair at the head of the table, taking a seat, “but you also have plenty of other clients—”
The door opens, drawing their attention to the person who stands there, one of many heroes who worked at the agency., Pro Hero Telen, a simple hero name with an equally simple quirk. But his ability had saved them numerous times in battle. He pauses as he enters, “is it— is it not time for the briefing? Have I interrupted something? I apologize I can—” 
He moves to shut the door but Lorelai simply hops off the table, collecting her tablet as she heads to the door and rests a hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry— we’re done here, right Y/N?” Y/N simply nods, and Lorelai offers her a smile, “be careful today.” She mumbles out, before turning back to Telen. Y/N doesn’t know what she says, but he pales and nods before entering. Shortly after, everyone else seems to file inside, and Y/N finds herself sighing as she spins around in her chair as she waits. 
It would be a long day. A very, very, long day. 
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BAKUGOU WAS TIRED. He really was. Working at Endeavor’s Agency meant long hours, endless paperwork, constant cases. And right now he was assigned to the current big thing; the Stain copycat that had yet to be caught. Unfortunately, this guy didn’t seem to be an amateur like the rest. Of course, whoever it was, they’d primarily been attacking minor Pro Heroes, until recently. 
Slowly working their way up the food chain of heroes until they ended up coming across someone who was relevant. It was inevitable, at one point whoever it was, they’d bite more than they can chew. Trying to take on a hero that surpassed their skills, whatever those skills may be— or they would slip up. Leaving behind some sort of evidence that would result in their capture. 
The only issue was, there was no telling where or when this would be. How many would have to die before they were caught? Bakugou didn’t necessarily want to know, and it was his job to make sure no one ever knew how many. 
A job he was failing. Alongside Deku, who had also been assigned to the case, it was a curious partnership but he had no choice to make it work. And his publicist had insisted that any presence with a hero like him would be good publicity. After all, most of the public knew about their little rivalry so it would make him seem diplomatic in a way. But Deku was…
“So… the gala, huh.”
Well, he was Deku.
“Shut up.” 
Thankfully, they hadn’t run into any reporters, though he was sure someone had caught pictures of them on duty together. Which was bound to end either ridiculously well for him, or incredibly poorly. It was always hit or miss with the press and Bakugou despised the entire aspect of the job. It was the one thing he could admit he was bad at. He wasn’t the most approachable, meaning it was rare for reporters to approach him in the first place due to his renowned temper.
The pair was making their way through the streets of the city, patrol was normal but they were currently on their way to the police station. They were supposed to be collaborating with the police to handle this copycat, and for some reason Deku was… panicked. It was subtle but the guy had been practically sweating bullets since Endeavor told them they’d need to work with the police. 
If Bakugou was honest this whole job was busy work. Why else would Endeavor’s agency be working on it? The Number One hero had to have better things to do. Maybe this was a punishment for what happened on the last mission they went on.
Bakugou frowns at the thought, electing to push those thoughts to the back of his mind as they come to stand in front of the Police Station. He finds himself bringing a hand to rub his temple. It was definitely going to be a long day. And he hadn’t even spoken to Haru about how the meeting with Lorelai went yet. Not that he wanted to know at this point, Bakugou had a feeling he wouldn’t be satisfied with any solution they proposed.
He really didn’t feel like dealing with any of this. So, Bakugou finds himself thinking that it might be time to use all those vacation days he’d been holding onto since he’d started working with Endeavor. They were piling up after all.
With a huff, he and Deku make their way up the steps up the police station, and Bakugou pushes the door open. It’s busy inside, as expected. A bustling atmosphere that reeks of blood, sweat, and tears, literally. There are some people seated, likely waiting to be processed, they’re handcuffed and Bakugou is fairly sure he recognizes one of them. Not that he has the time to dwell on it as they move through the police station.
One of the officers makes their way towards them, “you’re the heroes Endeavor’s agency sent?” He asks, looking to Deku, brow raised. “Welcome back.” 
Bakugou looks at Izuku incredulously as they begin to follow the man through the mess of a building, “the hell is that supposed to mean?” He hisses, but Izuku’s face has already flushed as he covers it with his hands, shaking his head.
“It was one time, how do all of you know about it!” Izuku cried out, and Bakugou finds himself glaring at his partner for the day, even without context.
The officer simply laughs, waving him off as they make their way into a room. There stands the police chief, Kenji Tsuragamae, and a few others seated at some of the many seats in the room, in front of white board that seems to be more of a mess than those around them. They look tired, exhausted even. 
Tsuragamae seems to notice their presence, clapping to garner the attention of the few inside the room, “everyone, please welcome the Pro Heroes from Endeavor’s agency. They’ll be assisting us with this case moving forwards.”
The officers seem rather unimpressed, and since Izuku still seems rather embarrassed for some reason, Bakugou finds himself stepping forwards, “what’s going on?”
With a sigh, he goes to answer. But he doesn’t get the chance as an explosion sounds and the building shakes. A siren goes off above them and suddenly the sprinklers began shooting out water as a woman entered, “sir! There’s been an explosion.”
Bakugou fights the urge to say, no shit, as he and Izuku exchange looks, “is it an attack?”
“On the police? That’s bold.” The officer from earlier comments as they all rise from their seats. But the fear in the room is abundantly evident as they all await her response, anticipation amongst them all. Because who would do such a thing, and so strategically placed on the day
The woman only shakes her head, and this time a man appears beside her, based on the way he’s dressed— Bakugou would have to guess he’s a plumber of some sort, but the man simply explains, “we think it’s an issue with the boiler room.” 
Bakugou finds himself rolling his eyes, “then why are you still here?” He turns to the rest of the room, “get on with the briefing and get the damn plumber down there.” He grumbles out, before taking a seat once more and redirecting his attention back to the chief, gesturing for him to carry on with his presentation. All the while Izuku is apologizing rather profusely for his attitude.
Now, crime had worsened exponentially after All Might’s downfall. It’s not that other heroes were suddenly less capable, although some were discouraged by the fall of the greatest hero. It’s just that All Might was a symbol. Even years after the fact, Bakugou could still see it. Things had changed. Although in recent times, crime had lessened thanks to the work of today’s Pro Heroes, there were still… issues.
Many had gone the vigilante route as a result of the League of Villains and Stain— and speaking of Stain, there had been several copycats over the years, people who agreed with his ideals and his actions. Which is what brought them here. The issue at hand was this most recent copycat was… decent. Most of the time it was amateurs who didn’t plan that far ahead, quick and easy to catch with minimal casualties, if any. 
Essentially, the police had nothing on him. Just a list of his victims and what they had in common. They were underground heroes, like that of his own teacher from UA, but something about them seemed off, different from what they’d seen in other copycats in the past. They weren’t like the flashy heroes you would find, the ones who seemed… fake. The ones most targeted because they fit Stain’s idea of a false hero.
And even then, there was no being sure which were the victims of this copycat and which were that of others. As the anniversary of Stain’s capture grew closer, more attacks were popping up. 
Shaking away these thoughts, Bakugou grimaces. All he had gotten from that briefing was that they knew nothing, had done nothing, and were going nowhere. Which wasn’t necessarily encouraging. So far, there were four confirmed victims of the copycat, and three additional deaths that were viewed as possible victims of the copycat. Technically, one of the copycats, but that wasn’t something he necessarily wanted to think about. 
Yeah, he would definitely be taking those vacation days.
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sillyguyhotline · 3 years ago
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17. “How is any of this ok?” with Joe and Sara maybe?
dude im gonna be completely honest i havent written anything in like a month so i think the quality isnt gonna be great but here goes nothing
God, Sara missed the feeling of home.
Every semblance of familiarity and comfort she’d once found in the town she’d grown up in, the house she’d spent her childhood running through, now felt chillingly foreign.
Perhaps it was the heavy burden of knowledge weighing fresh upon her shoulders: ASUNARO’s corruption seemed now to peer slyly around every corner, no matter where she went. She still didn’t know how much of the town had rotted away under its grasp, how much of the town its poison had pervaded… but she was probably better off not knowing.
Whatever was left of Midori, that miserable mix of pulsing blood and electronic emotion, had been ground to bits inside that coffin… but Sara couldn’t ignore the creeping fear that his burning, ever-present gaze would appear out of nowhere and terrorize her again.
But he wouldn’t. The death game was over, and they’d promised they would never hurt her or any of her loved ones again.
Most of the loved ones she still encountered day-to-day, gruesomely blood splattered and sitting like corpses propped up hastily in a corner, would be safe no matter if ASUNARO was fresh on her tail or a thousand miles away. What a cruel price to pay for safety, to never be hurt again.
They still lived on if Sara closed her eyes tight enough, if she listened to the twisting words of the hallucinations and let them convince her she was monstrous. But the second she dared to open her eyes, she knew they’d be dead again. Life worked in terrible ways, and that was all there was to it.
Joe’s house had always been a second home to her, ever since the two of them became friends. Joe was the farthest cry from Sara in terms of social interactions- it had taken at least 3 months for Sara to trust Joe enough to invite him over, but Joe had insisted she hang out at his house the very same day they became friendly enough to exchange more than a sentence with each other.
There was a certain sort of comfort to the warmth of his house, the constant scent of cooking food pervading the air and the little trinkets scattered in every corner. No surface of his house went without decoration, in its silly little way. It was full of pictures, too, some carefully framed and some dangling from the wall by pushpins, but Sara got the sense that none of the photos went unloved. Most of them were occupied by an orange-haired man, often carrying a younger Joe (back when he was still sporting that atrocious crew cut). Sara always assumed it was his dad, but thought it would be impolite to ask… particularly when the weeks stretched on and Sara had yet to meet that mysterious orange-haired man.
Eventually, pictures of Sara began to join the collage on the wall- pictures taken as she butchered yet another pop song during karaoke, or when they went out to get food, or when she mistakenly sat down on a traffic cone during gym (after many protests from Sara, he took that one down). As silly as the pictures were, and as obvious as it was that Joe had waited for the most embarrassing moments to take them, it was sort of sweet in a way.
Joe’s mother was always kind to her, though there was a constant weariness in her eyes that Sara always felt a bit uneasy about questioning. Sometimes she’d let the two of them cook things in the kitchen, but more often than not they’d go up to Joe’s room and screw around in there, with video games or music or the 50 times Joe tried to persuade Sara to climb out the window and sit on the roof with him before she finally agreed.
As rare as it was for Sara to agree to sit on the roof, it was even rarer for Joe to agree to study with her, much to Sara’s chagrin. Joe had always walked a fine line between passing and failing, but Sara had to admit he walked it well. When she did manage to convince him to study, though (usually the day before final exams), they’d sit on the cushy couch in his living room and somehow manage to bother each other as much as possible while feigning concentration.
The couch hadn’t changed after several years- Sara could tell that much the minute she sat down on it and avoided the urge to break eye contact with Joe’s mother. It was still well-worn, a couch that likely should have been replaced at least a decade ago but had never really been disposed of. Loose threads were protruding from the cover, drawn out from years of visitors fidgeting with them.
Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the slight motion making her sink deeper into the couch’s soft cushioning. She’d only spent one minute in the house and was already sweating, whether from the heat of the home or the thousand-yard stare of the woman sitting across from her.
Ryoko was there, too, sitting to Sara’s left and gazing listlessly at the well-trodden carpet beneath her feet. …Ryoko.
Sara cast a hesitant glance around the room, duly noting the photos covering the walls. Not a single one of hers had been taken down, but several more photos had appeared with Joe’s beaming face featuring prominently in them. Joe’s presence was always enough to fill a room even when he wasn’t speaking; it took a lot to fill in the gaps left by his absence.
God, she missed him.
The wind whistled against the window-screen; Sara had memorized the familiar creak of the wooden window frame being lifted up to welcome in the mild autumn air. Sara had always thought of autumn as a beginning- she loved summer as much as any other kid, but as the haze of the weather began to wind down she was quick to grow impatient and look forward to the school year, to being productive again. Joe had always disagreed with her.
“Fall is the literal death of fun,” he’d complained once, walking home with Sara after finishing the first week of school. “Couldn’t they have pushed back the first day of school by, like, another week? You think if we got enough people to sign a petition, they’d give us an extra week of summer?”
“Oh, come on, we both know even if you had an extra week of summer you’d just be complaining a week later,” Sara had teased back.
The death of fun. It certainly felt like that, Sara decided. She’d never feared the looming darkness of fall and winter quite so much before. But now, she supposed, there was no sunshine who’d weather it with her.
“Well… Sara?” Joe’s mother spoke up, voice hoarse with the sound of repressed tears in her throat. Sara recognized the sound all too well.
There was no resentment in the woman’s eyes when Sara made eye contact with her. No anger, no frustration, nor had there been any in her measured motions when she welcomed Sara into the home. It didn’t take any words for Sara to tell that there was no blame to be foisted upon her.
She was still Joe’s best friend.
“I’m sorry to have dragged you out here on such short notice.” The woman’s voice was weak. “I don’t know all the details of what happened, of course. Haven’t heard anything, aside from the little tidbits the police told me when I dropped by the station.”
Sara’s shoulders stiffened at the mention of the police, at the idea of them pleasantly answering her questions as though they weren’t just as complicit in that tragedy as ASUNARO had been.
“And…” the woman glanced down at her hands, toughened from a lifetime of working. “I know something terrible happened to you. The circles under your eyes are darker than midnight, I know it’s so selfish of me to be dragging you out here, but… I haven’t slept a wink for weeks. Been so worried about Joe, and about you too.”
She nodded in the direction of the black-haired girl who hadn’t spoken a word the entire time. “Ryoko’s been worried about the both of you, too. Your parents weren’t answering the door, so she went to me. I hope you’ll forgive the two of us for disturbing you, Sara, but… you have the answers the police won’t give us, don’t you?”
God, her gaze was piercing.
“...Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
It was taking everything in Sara’s power not to look at the vacant seat to her right. If Joe was there, he would have been laughing and lightening the mood, completing the circle that had been left so jarringly empty.
But they wouldn’t have been having this conversation if Joe was there.
Ms. Tazuna nodded slowly. “This means the world to me, Sara. Don’t forget that.”
Sara did her best to muster a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”
The woman gave another nod, eyes defocusing as though even now, she wasn’t quite sure why she was there. “Alright. Alright. Well, then…” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Guess I should get right to the point, yeah? Is he… is… how is he…?”
So she still hadn’t quite let go of that little thread of hope, even after seeing Sara return home safe and alive with no best friend in tow. Who was Sara to judge? When hope was the only thing to cling to, it only made sense to cling to it like a lifeline.
Sara twisted her hands, the same old nervous habit she’d had for years, and wondered briefly if she’d picked it up from Ms. Tazuna. How terrible it was, to carry the news that nobody, much less any mother, ever wanted to hear.
“I… I’m sorry, Ms. Tazuna. He didn’t make it out alive.”
Sara hadn’t expected the hush that immediately fell over the room. She’d expected immediate tears, the grieving cry of a mother in pain. Instead, the room became muffled, still as a painting captured in time.
Slowly, Ryoko looked up from her bitten-down fingers, eyes rimmed red already. Ryoko had always been an emotional person, the only person Sara knew who could fluctuate from full-on sobs to cheerful giggles in less than a minute. Sara was so unused to the look that was now filling her eyes- cold, solid misery. As though there were no tears in her eyes left to cry, no more tragedies to bemoan. Just a deep and horrified comprehension of just how many things in her life had gone wrong.
And, slowly, Ms. Tazuna began to cry.
Tears had become so uncomfortable for Sara to bear witness to. Was it selfish of her to look away? It couldn’t be, not when every raw sob reminded her of the art student seeing her first (and certainly not last) death, of the broken sibling openly weeping over apologies gone unspoken, of the unknowing siblings screaming their throats out with pleas for death so the other could survive.
Especially not now. Not when every tear rang in her mind as a reminder of cold tubes piercing her best friend’s chest, of his corpse slumping and falling in a pool of blood, because oh god he wasn’t supposed to have lost so much blood, how was he supposed to live without it, of the clickclickclickclickclicking rising in volume while her attempts to save him grew feebler and feebler.
Her hands were bloodstained, no matter how many times she tried to scrub them clean. Those dreadful hands of hers had failed her, failed Joe, failed the women sobbing openly in front of her.
She swallowed back the apologies that always rose in her throat as Ms. Tazuna rushed to sniffle back her tears.
“I… god, I… he’s really gone?”
Sara couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“Please… please tell me it was a peaceful death. He didn’t… suffer too much, did he?”
The resounding wave of clicks flooded her mind. “It was as peaceful as I could make it. I… he smiled at me, right before he died. I’d… very much like to think that means he was happy when he died.”
“What happened?” Ryoko’s voice came out rough, the first of it Sara had heard in weeks. “Joe told me, after our date, that he was going to walk you home, and then neither of you showed up at school the next day. And now… it’s been three weeks? And Joe… Joe’s dead? What the hell happened, Sara?”
“God,” Sara mumbled, mesmerizing herself with the twisting motions of her own hands. “I’m not sure if you’d even believe me if I told you. I don’t even know if I believe what happened myself.”
“I’d believe anything.” The sentence was firm. “I just want to know what happened.”
Sara nodded wearily. The familiar weight of her bright orange ponytail was notably missing- the day after she’d escaped, she’d demanded the hairdresser cut her hair short and crisp. She shuddered every time she thought about the ponytail brushing against her neck as she spent each argument screaming and protesting for her life. Even worse was the memory of how carefully Joe had styled her hair, forsaking his usual clumsiness to braid every strand with a remarkable tenderness. She didn’t want to remember any of it- even though, as the locks went cascading to the floor, she was reminded starkly of Keiji’s bleach-stained trauma response.
“For some reason, something to do with the mafia, we were kidnapped. And pulled into a death game. There were twenty of us, including me and Joe. I- I’m not going to get into all the specifics. It’s going to make me sick to my stomach if I do. But… they made us play this sadistic fucking game to narrow down the competition. Based on cards. Joe drew a bad card, and… they executed him.” Something in Sara’s throat tightened as she finished speaking, and she fell silent.
“Just like that?” His mother’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “How… how’d they kill him?”
“I’d rather not say.” There came the gushing sound of blood pulsing through the tubes. “He didn’t suffer too long” - she hoped - “but it was a gruesome way to die. I don’t want to think about it, please understand.”
It took a moment for his mother to register the words and nod, face still painted with horror.
“Why… how did the two of you even end up there in the first place?” Ryoko spoke up again. “You said something about the mafia? How the hell are you two connected with the mafia?”
“I don’t know how I am,” Sara responded immediately. “It must be something with my family. I couldn’t control any of this, I swear, but… Joe wasn’t meant to end up there at all.”
Ryoko paused. “He… he wasn’t meant to end up there?”
Sara swallowed back the lump in her throat. “The game… it was something that was being prepared for ages. There weren’t just a few ragtag kidnappers behind it, there was an entire organization. Even the police were involved. They ran AI tests, hundreds if not thousands of them, trying to calculate who’d be the most likely to win. And… when all the numbers came back, the person most likely to win… was me.”
She spread her arms wide, baring her sins and her cruelties to the world, and in that moment felt distinctly like the angel of death Keiji had branded her to be.
“They needed something to drag me down, I guess. Make the odds more balanced. So they dragged Joe into this fucking mess. I guess they thought that him being there would keep me steady enough to make everything fair.” A cold hand, dripping with tendrils of phantom blood, caressed her chin with a lethal grip. “...They were right.”
Ryoko’s gaze had gone cold again. “So Joe died just because you cared about him? What the fuck kind of death sentence is that?”
Sara shook her head numbly.
“Why did it have to be him?” The heartbreak in Ryoko’s voice was clearer than day. “So many people love you, Sara, why did it have to be him? Hell, I’m your best friend too, aren’t I? Why couldn’t it have been me? I’m a much worse person than Joe ever was, I deserved to be in his place way more. Couldn’t they have killed me instead?”
Sara winced at the growing desperation in her best friend’s voice, the raw crack she knew all too well. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me. Sara could have almost fooled herself into seeing a crisp aquamarine when Ryoko’s hair flashed into the light.
“Ryoko… it could have been.”
The girl fell silent.
“They had files on you too. They knew how close we were, they knew how much you meant to me… but Joe was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And they fucking killed him for it.”
Oh, how she wished she could go back to that balmy early-autumn night, see the smile on Joe’s face and listen to his lighthearted laughter again. The desire to keep one’s friend safe had become a crime deserving of a death sentence.
Ryoko’s eyes remained locked to Sara’s, devoid of any dullness. In the look they exchanged was a deep, sinking understanding, one that had nauseated Sara to the core the first time the realization struck her.
It was by no crafty strategy that Joe had died instead of Ryoko, no favoritism biased against the kindest person either of them would ever know. It was a simple, terrible twist of fate. Ryoko could have taken his place had she done something as inconsequential as offering to walk Sara home instead.
But she hadn’t.
It took everything in Sara’s power to avoid wondering what would’ve changed if she had.
“How is any of this okay?” Ryoko broke the silence weakly. “They killed him- they could have killed me, too. He was seventeen. Seventeen. How did anybody let this happen? How did this happen, Sara?”
“I- I don’t know.” Ryoko’s wrath was simmering; even though Sara knew truly that she wasn’t the subject of the anger, she still felt scalded. “I miss him so much, Ryoko. I watched him die, and nothing in my power let me save him. I miss him, Ryoko, I miss him every waking minute of every day. We were supposed to escape together and get out safe and pretend this never happened, but…” the tears were beginning to well up again. She couldn’t bear the thought of breaking down in front of anyone, especially not over him.
“I’m going to go make some coffee,” his mother interrupted suddenly. She’d been noticeably quiet, but the still-fresh streaks of tears painted down her cheeks told the story she didn’t need to vocalize. “Some coffee, and some snacks. And we’ll keep talking from there, alright? Do you guys have your phones?”
The two girls nodded uneasily.
“Please… find any pictures you have of him. I want to make this wall as bright as possible.”
Without any other words, she hurried out of the room, and it fell to silence once more. Outside the window, the cool autumn breeze began to stir the leaves in the air, gusting forward to brush against Sara’s cheek just as the hallucination had done mere minutes ago.
And the Tazuna household began to feel more like home again.
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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago
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Title: Crown For Two {1}
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Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU
Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, 
Words: 6.1k
Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  
Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  
Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated. 
This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  
As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.
Note: All right, all right people, the ride begins. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a note, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.
As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.
If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️
***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
***Interactive***
***Picture Heavy***
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Chapter One
“You were supposed to be on your way home.”
 You rolled your eyes as you scoffed. You’d mentioned nights ago that you thought you should just go home, but then you went to your next destination. It was a moment of weakness or it could have been loneliness. Your schedule took a lot out of you. No one saw it because it was all behind the scenes. All anyone ever saw were the incredible places you went to, the fun things you experienced, and the culture you soaked up. What they grasped was whatever you posted in your pictures.
 “You know I can’t. I started this series, and it’s gotten the eye of a lot of sponsors, and one of them is even talking about some really big ideas at the end of it if it goes really well. that could be incredible for my brand,” you explained.
 Anika sighed loudly. You knew she was annoyed with you right now, especially it being December.
 “I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”
 “Whatever.”
 “Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It looks like we’re headed right into a storm. We’ll be experiencing a little turbulence as we veer off course a little bit as we try to evade this thing. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”
 You sighed while buckling your seatbelt, preparing for what was coming.
 “What’s happening?”
 “Going through some turbulence. It should be fine,” you assured your sister.
 “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to hang up.”
 You nodded to the flight attendant and promptly ended the call promising your sister that you’d call her back when you landed in Sandvell. As soon as you hung up, the turbulence began. It started out with slight bumps, that you could sip your drink through. Then graduated to bigger bumps that had you gripping the elbow rests. When the entire plane started to shake, your heart leaped into your throat. One minute passed, then two, and after five minutes or so, the speaker came back on.
 “Ladies and gentleman, your captain again. We’re going to be landing shortly. This storm is not one to be messed with. I apologize for the inconvenience, folks, but on this airline, we choose safety above all else.”
 You weren’t going to argue with him. You definitely didn’t want to risk your life over getting to your next destination. What was a one or two day delay? Once the pilot got to a lower altitude, the majority of the turbulence subsided. It was another ten minutes before the plane landed, but when it did, all you could see from the window was white overcast with darkness.
 When you had your belongings gathered and began walking off the plane along with the other fifty or so passengers, you tried to find cell service, but you had zero bars.
 “Excuse me, where are we?”
 “Uh—I’m actually not sure, ma’am. Patricia, where are we?”
 The two flight attendants looked puzzled. The second asked a third, and that third asked another. None of them seemed to know. That was not a good sign, you thought. Once you’d walked down the long corridor that served as the connection between the airport and the plane, you found yourself in one of the classiest airports you’d ever been in, and you’d been inside quite a few as a travel blogger. As far as the eye could see, it was class, with the exception of the floor.
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You looked around you and marveled at the detail in the design that was around you. Where most airports were mainly logically designed without lavishness. This one looked like lavishness was the first priority. The floors looked to be made from the finest paonazzetto marble. You remembered the name because of the substantial time you’d spent in Italy trying to capture architecture through your camera lens. Reaching for your camera around your neck, you began snapping a few frames of the floor. Getting lost in picture taking, you found yourself at one of the many glass windows snapping pictures of the airplanes on the tarmac.
 Hearing the commotion of raised voices behind you, you looked back and saw the passengers of the plane you’d just disembarked from gathered in a huddle. You walked back toward them in time to catch a question from a concerned passenger.
 “How long are we delayed? When will we get back in the air? I have to get to Sandvell.”
 A man wearing a mixture of royal blue and white colors cleared his throat then spoke. “I apologize, ladies and gentlemen, for the delay. There is a storm heading right for us on the path to Sandvell. Continuing through it would be lunacy. Our only viable option is to wait it out.”
 No one seemed to like that answer. All the questions flew out at once. All their voices overlapped, and you could tell that the gentleman was overwhelmed by not only the volume of questions but also their voices.
 “According to our team here, we’re expecting possibly a twenty-four to thirty-six-hour delay.”
 Everyone groaned in unison, everyone but you. You’d traveled enough to always expect the unexpected. Things like this didn’t bother you so much now, three years into your career. The only thing that bothered you now was that you’d have to rearrange your hotel plans as well as finding somewhere to sleep tonight.
 “You said here,” you began with all eyes trained to you. “Where exactly is here?”
 The gentleman cleared his throat again. “Brexendor.”
 The crowd murmured as they looked at each other. Clearly, no one had ever heard of Brexendor. Some even pulled out their travel map to scour it for the country.
 “So what are we supposed to do now? Where do we stay?”
 “We are in the process of arranging accommodations at one of the inns within the capital. If you all would work with us so we have your names to get your luggage to you in a timely fashion so you can be shuttled over to the Inn, that would be appreciated.”
 Everyone filed into a line in front of one of the four airport staff, hoping to hurry matters along while you searched your phone for any information on where you were. When you typed in Brexendor into the search engine, the first thing that popped up was a map of the country. Apparently, it was next door to Sandvell. They were considered sister countries.
 “Population three million, run as a monarchy, considered one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Average life expectancy one hundred and ten years. Well, damn.”
 Someone clearing their throat brought your attention up in front of you. You were next in line.
 “Sorry.”
 The woman with brown eyes and blonde hair smiled warmly. “It’s all right, Ms--.”
 “Uh, Thornton, Xari Thornton.” You handed her your passport and boarding pass and waited as she scrolled through her tablet.
 “Ah yes, Ms. Thornton. Here is your paperwork. On it, you will find where you can retrieve your luggage and the shuttle number that will be taking you to the Inn. Once at the Inn, just provide your name, and you will find everything has been taken care of. On behalf of Brexendor Aviation, we humbly apologize for this snafu.”
 Her customer service training was on point, you thought. Her smile was warm, as if she really meant the words she’d just said. Finding it refreshing, you took the paperwork and proceeded to where she was motioning. Everyone you passed as you walked the fancy halls had a warm smile plastered to their face and even warmer words of welcome. You felt as if you’d stepped through into some alternate universe. You made a voice note about everything you encountered. You wanted to make sure you captured your authentic feelings and reactions in real-time. It made writing about your experience on the blog page easier. You’d even found that readers and supporters liked the play by play with your added thoughts. They commented it added personality.
Once you’d made it to the baggage claim area, your jaw dropped at the change in décor. There were Christmas trees that sparsely decorated the space, and they were all lit with the same blue, silver, and white theme. It contrasted with the latte color of the leather seats and the cream offset tables. The design gave the space an elegant but also comfortable vibe. When you slipped into one of the chairs, you released an audible moan. It was like sitting on a cloud.
 After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions through a hall lined with Christmas trees, stopping every so often to take a few pictures before you made it to the front of the airport. As you stepped outside, your eyebrows shot up seeing the fresh snow cascading from the sky. The bite in the air had you bundling your jacket tighter, but it did not stop you from snapping a few pictures. One turned to ten and ten to fifteen until another person clearing their throat brought you back to reality and to the waiting bus ahead of you.
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You took a break from pictures and called the hotel in Sandvell, hoping to alter the dates of your stay. What you expected to be a hassle and a long drawn out process ending in them saying they were booked and nothing could be done, turned out to be quick, easy, and painless. The Luxembourg Hotel assured you that your room would still be available and there would be no charge for the altered dates. You made another note on your phone, a point you had to stress when you wrote your piece.
 You continued snapping pictures from the window of the bus with an easy mind. Everything you passed seemed like it didn’t belong. It all looked so old fashioned but so modern all at the same time. The buildings looked to have been standing since the beginning of time in the materials they’d been built in, but the displays were from the twenty-first century. It was the most exciting contradiction. The only word you could think to describe it was—quaint.
 When the bus drove over a bridge, you got a semi-bird’s eye view of the town across the water, and your jaw nearly dropped.
 “Brexendor? What the hell?”
 The entire drive had you widening your eyes like a child seeing an insane amount of presents on Christmas morning. Buildings were decked out in Christmas lights, and every door had a wreath with blue and silver Christmas ornaments. Almost every few feet, the sidewalks were decorated with poinsettia trees that were half the average human’s height, and the way the freshly fallen snow-dusted their tops only made it even more perfect.
 By the time the bus stopped, you’d taken so many pictures, and part of you was dreading having to go through them to choose the ones that would make the cut. You knew it was going to be a next to impossible decision. As you stepped off the bus, you felt like you’d walked right into a snow globe.
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“Holy shit!”
 You spun, taking in a full three-sixty view of your surroundings. all the glistening lights and the falling snow only made it feel even more magical. You didn’t know where the hell Brexendor was or why the hell they rolled like this, but you were excited to see more. When you stopped spinning, you realized several other people were snapping pictures and looking just as marveled as you were. After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions and walked across the street to the building that a friendly looking man with slightly greying hair was standing before beckoning you inside.
 For the second time that night, you felt as if you’d stepped into a Christmas movie set. The interior was set so cozy. It felt like a Christmas cottage, and you loved it. Instinct had you reaching for your camera and taking a few shots of the Christmas tree in the corner by the fireplace and the plaid decorations on the leather couch. Even the pictures on the walls got a snap.
 “Miss?”
 Looking back to the owner, you smiled and approached the desk.
 “Hi, I’m so sorry. This place is so gorgeous.”
 “Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but it is all my wife.”
 Just then, a beautiful brunette came out wearing a bright red sweater and one of those spoof reindeer antler headbands that bounced with every move.
 “Hi, there darling. Welcome to The Beaux. I’m Anita, and this is my husband, Borik. I heard all about your ordeal. I’m so sorry.”
 You shrugged but kept your smile plastered on your face.
 “It’s all right. Can’t control the weather, right?”
 Anita smiled and nodded. “Definitely not in Brexendor.”
 “I have never heard of this place before, and I am lost how. Everything is gorgeous and so quaint. How have you stayed under the radar?”
 Anita and Borik looked at each other with an all-knowing look that you wanted in on.
 “Guess it’s just happened,” Anita cheerfully said.
 You knew they knew something. Staying this under the radar, including from America, didn’t just happen. This took work. You wondered who in charge in their right mind would make a stupid decision like that.
 “Okay, what’s your name, darling?”
 “Uh, Xari Thornton.”
 “Ah-ha, I told you, Borik. Once we were contacted with a list of names that would be checking in, and I saw your name, I told him I just know she’s gorgeous and look. You are a vision.”
 You couldn’t help but smile widely while trying to keep your head under proper proportions.
 “Thank you.”
 “You must have quite the many suitors where you’re from,” Anita continued.
 You snorted and shook your head. The reality was you were as single as the number one with no prospects.
 “No suitors here.”
 Both Borik and Anita looked shocked, as if you’d said the most appalling thing.
 “That can’t be true. Borik. She’s single and at twenty-eight. Even our Kennedy was at least engaged by the time she turned twenty-seven. Here that is unheard of. A woman is usually married by twenty-four, especially if she’s a looker.”
 You pinched your lips, trying to keep your laughter in. this was not the first time you’d been called an old maid. Hell, your mother said it often, especially since you flat out turned down Maurice’s proposal three months ago. She was livid.
 Anita must have sensed the awkwardness of the moment because she cleared her throat and brought all her attention back to the reservation.
 “Well, your room is prepared. I took the liberty of giving you one of our prettiest rooms. Would you like Borik to carry your bags up?”
 “Uh—no, I’m sure I can manage,” you began.
 Borik stood, shook his head, and came around to you.
 “I won’t hear a thing about it. I’ll happily carry your luggage up. Follow me.”
 “That’s my Borik, ever the gentleman,” Anita filled in with an enamored smile before Borik walked off, leaving her to check in a few of the other passengers from the plane.
 You listened to Borik tell the story of the Inn and how it got its name. You kept one ear on his story while you took in every detail around you. The wood looked so rustic, and you guessed that was what gave the place such a warm and welcoming feeling. The higher you climbed, the more you saw, and the more you saw, the more you liked. You followed Borik down a hall, noticing that all the doors you passed had mini wreaths decked out in the same blue and silver ornaments like at the airport and throughout the streets.
 “Ah-ha, here we are,” Borik said before he put the key into the lock and pushed the door open. Once he did, the scent of cinnamon and pine hit you in the face. It was like the hand of Christmas came out and smacked you.
 “My wife loves the smell,” Borik explained as you stepped inside. You smiled and thanked him for his help.
 “If you get hungry, you have a few options. There are plenty of places nearby you can eat some authentic Brexendorian food, but also my wife cooks every night, and dinner usually is at eight o’clock, but tonight Anette has agreed to keep some heated for anyone who would like some. It’s stew, rabbit.”
 “Oh, thumper. Wonderful.”
 Borik laughed loudly with that one. “I know that one, Bambi, the children’s cartoon. Good one Ms. Thornton.”
 You smiled. “You can call me Xari, Borik.”
 “Well, have a good night,” he said before he walked out.
 Finally alone, the first thing you did was text your sister to let her know not to worry and give her an update on what was happening. After you let Anika know what was happening, it didn’t take long for your phone to ring. The next ten or so minutes were spent talking to Anika and telling her how amazing the things you’d seen so far were. You could not shut up about the decorations, the way the snow looked to have been groomed to lay on things perfectly. It was that damn picturesque. Since you couldn’t stop talking about it, Anika was the one to suggest you go out and enjoy it before you got back on the plane. It was a suggestion you fully intended on listening to.
 Fifteen minutes later, you were back downstairs bundled with your camera and your purse, ready to explore. When you told Anita your intention, she gave you a map of the city and highlighted places to look at but cautioned you to hurry because stores would be closing soon, and nights during Brexendor winters could be brutal. You promised you’d be quick and careful, then stepped out, ready to explore like Dora.
 Your first stop was a block down, a children’s toy store. It was decked out with all the latest toys along with some traditional things that Santa would have brought specially made from his workshop. While you were snapping pictures outside the window, a kid ran up to the window and pressed his nose to it. His eyes were wide, and his mouth matched their size. You asked the adult with him if you could take a picture. When they approved, you got one or two from a few different angles before they walked off.
 As you walked through the city, enjoying the scenery, you took pictures of everything that caught your eye, ornaments, trees, people, stores, even pets. Christmas wasn’t your favorite holiday, but it was your second favorite, and being here really as inching it higher on the list.
 When you felt a strong wind hit you, it stopped you in your tracks. It was strong enough to have you stagger backward a little, allowing a chill to sweep through you. You looked around and saw a few feet away was some sort of bar, and behind it was swirling snow that looked like a tornado. You hurried toward the building, being careful not to slip on any ice that may be hiding underneath the snow. Once to the door, you walked inside, and the sound of Christmas carols filled your ears.
 “Jesus.”
 If the scent of the Inn felt like Christmas slapped you in the face, the look and sound of this place was the one two-hitter that settled that you were in a whole nother world here. You looked around and found a coat rack along the left wall. After placing your jacket and scarf on the hook, you walked to the bar and slid onto a stool. As you waited for the bartender to come over, you looked around. Here it didn’t smell like cinnamon, but the pine was present, along with the smell of alcohol and licorice.
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There were several small dark wooden tables around the bar with chairs and even booths that decorated the walls. The floors matched the tables, and those matched the walls. This place looked like somewhere you’d find in the middle of nowhere. The window to the back of the establishment showed the dark woods with tall snow-covered trees and that howling snow tornado.
 When you turned back to the back, the huge elk head above the wall lined with alcohol bottles had you gasping.
 “Jeez,” you said as you snapped two of three pictures of the creepy looking thing.
 “That is Hogan’s prized possession.”
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You looked beside you where the voice came from to see a very attractive man there. When you’d sat down, you didn’t notice anyone beside you, so to see his piercing blue eyes boring holes into you. Your eyes traveled lower to his awkwardly shaped nose. It looked like it had been broken once or twice and never quite went back to normal. You didn’t mind it, though. Who liked a perfect face, especially when looking at him, seemed like that was about the only thing that was not absolutely perfect. His jaw was carved to precision like he was specially crafted and not born. When your eyes fell to his lips, you purposely forced yourself to look away.
 “Is—is that right?”
 “Yes. I bet you cannot guess why,” the stranger said in a crisp European accent that was very close to British. You weren’t one hundred percent sure if it was or not, he just sounded proper as hell, and it was actually a bit of a turn on.
 You shrugged while looking at the bottles that lined the back of the bar. “Enlighten me.”
 Just then, a large man with blond hair in a man bun walked over. He had to have been over six feet tall, and if this were America, he’d definitely be a shopper at the store Big & Tall. The man looked to the one seated beside you, ready to speak but suddenly closed his mouth.
 “Hogan, Ms--,” the stranger began waiting for you to fill in your name.
 He thought he was so smooth; you thought as you smiled to yourself.
 “Xari.”
 His eyebrow shot up, and he smiled sweetly. “Wow, what a beautiful name.”
 You smiled, and as you felt it widening, you bit onto your bottom lip to stop it. “Thanks.”
 “Ms. Xari would like to know why Shandoe is your most prized possession.”
 “Shandoe?”
 Hogan looked behind him at the Elk’s head then smiled. “It’s been in my family for generations. It was the first thing my great-great-great-great-great grandfather ever killed for himself to feed his family. They ate everything but the head and decided to keep it as a reminder of where we came from.”
 You were expecting some weird manly story but what you got was a wholesome and heartwarming tale. You smiled, raised your camera, and snapped Hogan, and as he stared at the Elk’s head with such a loving look on his face that was such a contradiction for his large frame.
 “Are you a reporter?”
 “No, no. Not at all. I’m a travel influencer and blogger. I go around and soak up what the world has to offer while taking pictures and writing about it on my blog for others to read about.”
 The man beside you nodded, then raised his glass to his head.
 “What can I get you?”
 “Uh—what is he drinking?”
 “The Mistletoe Bomb.”
 You snorted, unable to contain yourself any longer. “What in the world is that?”
 “You laugh now, but it is a blend he makes special for me. It is not for the faint of heart,” the man beside you informed.
 “Oh no, well looks like I’ll be having one of those.”
 Hogan looked to him, then back to you. “It is all right, Hogan. Give the lady what she wants. I am assuming fell strength is also what you require?”
 “Yes, full strength. I want all the mistletoe and all the bomb.”
 Hogan went to work, making the drink while you continued looking around.
 “Em, I’m Henry.”
 You looked to him to find his hand outstretched to you, waiting for you to place yours in it. When you did, you repeated your name as you noted how soft his hands were. It felt like he’d never done a day’s work with them. Henry rose your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It was one small action, but that action had butterflies flitting in your belly and your cheeks heating as if a heater was aimed directly at your face.
 “I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Henry uttered while looking into your eyes.
 “Same,” you whispered.
 Henry released your hand and turned back to his drink at the same time Hogan placed a mug before you.
 “One Mistletoe Bomb for the lady.”
 You looked at the large mug then to Hogan, who waited expectantly. When your eyes drifted to Henry beside you, he too was watching and waiting. No matter how much you felt like this was a setup, you persisted, not wanting to back down. When you took your first full mouthful of the drink, your eyes immediately bugged. Your tongue was on fire in seconds, and it seemed the longer you held the liquid in your mouth, the worse the burn was. You gulped it down and instantly knew the mistake. Not only was your mouth on fire, but now your throat and chest as it burned a fiery path to your belly.
 “Holy fucking shit!”
 The two men boisterously laughed, the sounds booming off the wooden walls before filling the entire room. You looked around, noticing for the first time it was completely empty.
 “What the hell is that?”
 “Something that will put hair on your chest,” Hogan teased.
 “No, shit.”
 Henry seemed to like that response; he laughed again then finished his mug.
 “How can you drink this?”
 He shrugged, then turned his body to you. You gave him a well-paced once over, taking in his furry winter boots, dark pants, and dark sweater to match the pants. Underneath the sweater, though, you saw peeks of a crisp white shirt. He dressed like he had money, you thought.
 “I have done it for half my life. I do not even feel the burn anymore. Do you know why he calls it Mistletoe Bomb now?”
 You giggled and nodded, pushing the mug away. If you drank that, you’d need to be carried out of here. As Hogan appeared to take the mug away, Henry reached for it, insisting he’d finish it while Hogan placed a beer bottle in front of you.
 “Would you like a straw?”
 You looked at Hogan as if he were crazy. Who drank beer with a straw? You shook your head and raised the bottle to your lips to take a swig. This was more your speed, not pure petrol.
 “So you are new in town,” Henry began.”
 “Kind of. My plane had to detour because of the storm, so here I am in a place I’ve never heard of and cannot figure out why.”
 “Is it strange to never have heard of every place in the world?”
 You thought about it for a moment as you took another mouthful of beer then nodded.
 “Yes. I’m from America,” you began.
 “Ah, American. Let me guess. Everything has to be discovered, and if it is not, then either it doe not exist, or it is being hidden.”
 You snapped your mouth shut. He’d guessed American thinking in one try. “Well, that’s not fun,” you added. Henry laughed and took his mouthful of fire.
 “I am sorry. I know America well,” Henry informed.
 “Oh, so you’ve been?”
 “No. I do not need to. I have spent my entire life learning it.”
 You looked back at him, confused by what he meant.
 “Every country gives lessons on other countries of the word, especially powerhouse countries,” he explained.
 “Well, your studies have paid off.”
 “Do you really believe that everything has to be discovered?”
 “No. where is the fun in that? I believe that the world has to have some mystery.”
 “Then welcome to Brexendor,” Henry said with a smile.
 “Brexendor. What’s it’s deal?”
 You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the wood of the bar as you watched him.
 “Deal? I am afraid I do not understand.”
 “What I mean is, the people are nice. Everyone I have encountered, including at the airport, is nice. You know airport staff can be so mean, but not here. The people who own the Inn I am staying at are so sweet. Even strangers I bump into don’t;’ seem to mind. Not to mention, this place has the whole snow globe effect down. It’s incredible. What is the deal? Is the president some fantastic guy who pays everyone well and gives them ample vacation time for them to be so happy?”
 Henry smiled, dipped his head lower, then rubbed the back of his neck.
 “Would that be unusual?”
 “Yes. Compared to what America has going on—highly unusual.”
 “Well, the first thing to know about Brexendor is, a president does not run it,” Henry clarified.
 “Ah right, it is a monarchy. So does that mean there is a king, and queen, lords, dukes,” you began, then gasped, remembering more. “Princesses?”
 Henry smirked, gulped his drink, then nodded. “Yes.” He continued to take another swig from his mug.
 His words slowly resonated. “What!? You’re serious?”
 He nodded, then placed the glass onto the bar.
 “Wow. How interesting. So this King and Queen are they the good kind?”
 Henry’s smile turned somber before it disappeared altogether.
 “Did I say something wrong?”
 “No, no. Yes, the King and Queen are the best kind,” he filled in before he took the last mouthful of his drink. “They would like you.”
 You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Me? I doubt that. While all the mothers of my boyfriends have loved me, I don’t think the King and Queen would care for me.”
 “Boyfriend, so uh—you’re involved,” Henry said as he avoided your eyes.
 His words sounded like a statement rather than a question, so you remained quiet. After a few moments, he looked at you expectantly. You pinched your lips before you finished your beer.
 “Are you involved?”
 Henry took a deep breath looked forward to the bottles at the bar as a pained and confused expression washed over his features.
 “I’ll take that as a yes,” you replied.
 “I am not—involved,” he answered.
 “You said it like you weren’t sure.”
 “It is complicated.”
 “Well, I am a stranger in a bar—an empty bar. You’ll most likely never see me again, and I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”
 Henry smiled then turned back to you, resting his elbow on the bar mimicking your stance.
 “You have not answered my inquiry.”
 “Inquiry?”
 Henry smiled again, then bit his bottom lip. That is where your eyes went to. He had nice lips, you thought.
 “On if you are involved,” he clarified.
 “I am not involved with anyone. If you ask my mother, she will tell you I’m an old maid with no prospects.”
 “I do not believe that. You are funny, intelligent, fun to be around, and quite beautiful. There is no way you have no admirers.”
 You smiled and began toying with your necklace.
 “I’m sure you say that to all the girls you meet in deserted bars during a snow storm.”
 He snorted, and you felt his breath across your cheek. It was then you realized how close the two of you were to each other.
 “To be honest, I have never found myself alone with a woman in a bar. You are my first.”
 You bit your bottom lip feeling more flirtatious than usual as you gazed into his hypnotizing eyes. He was gorgeous and becoming even more so with every passing minute. The two of you ordered more drinks, then drifted off to one of the booths on the wall that was more hidden and even more comfortable. You talked about nearly everything and nothing at the same time. He spoke a lot about philosophy and astronomy and the sciences that motivated a lot of the earlier theories. It was fascinating just listening to him speak. There was something about his mouth and the properness of the words he used. Never once did he use slang or even a contraction. You’d never met anyone who didn’t use contractions. The longer you sat there, the more you felt like never getting up.
 “There is something about you that is so comfortable and easy,” Henry began.
 “You too.”
 “I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I even want to.”
 You smiled, “You too.”
 Your eyes lingered, and you saw him sway forward, but then he stopped only to do it again and again. With your faces were centimeters from one another, it was then you noticed the slight speck of brown in his left eye. You felt Henry’s hand gently cup your cheek; then, his thumb slowly stroked your skin. The heat from his palm seared your cheek, and every stroke of his thumb send heat tendrils down your jaw to your lips, making them tingle and yearn for his.
 This had never happened to you in your entire life. You’d known this man a few hours and were ready to possibly bring him back to the Inn with you. Henry didn’t move. It was like he was giving you the last few centimeters to make a decision, but you didn’t make it. A phone went off, but you both ignored it until the sound went off. You raised your hand to rest on top of his. Once your skin touched his, Henry lightly sighed out. Before either of you could make another move, a phone rang again. This time Henry groaned before he looked away just as you did.
 You cleared your throat and slid from his body as he checked his phone.
 “I have to go,” he announced.
 Frozen, you sat there trying to understand if you’d read this entire thing wrong.
 “I am sorry, something—urgent has come up.”
 You snapped out of it, then nodded. “It’s fine. I should probably get back to the Inn anyway. They say a storm is brewing.”
 Both of you stood from the booth while straightening your clothes.
 “I really enjoyed tonight,” Henry added.
 You smiled and nodded. “Me too. It was—nice.”
 Your eyes lingered again, and your bodies drifted closer. It was you who looked away first and stepped back. You reached for your purse, but Henry stopped you.
 “It has been taken care of. Let us call it a tourist special, right Hogan.”
 “Right your--,” Hogan began before Henry looked at him, cutting him off.
 Henry ushered you to the coat rack on the wall by the door then helped you into your jacket.
 “Can I drive you back to the Inn?”
 “No, please. I am more than capable of getting back,” you assured.”
 “Are you sure?”
 You nodded then turned to walk out, but Henry pulled you to him. “I want to see you again.”
 “I don’t see how. I leave tomorrow as soon as the storm passes.”
 Henry looked to be thinking before he sighed. “I guess it was not meant to be,” you whispered, a tinge of sadness filling you as reality set in.
 “In another life,” Henry softly said.
 He came closer then placed a slow, chaste kiss on your cheek before he released you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, and in those moments, anything felt possible. When you faced that anything could have been possible but not for you, you sighed. A few seconds later, you turned and walked out of the bar.
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Once outside, the rough wind caught you off guard. You took a few moments to bundle yourself, then continued walking back to the Inn. The swirling snow in the air made it a little challenging to see, but you tried the best you could. Several times, the wind picked up and shoved you where it wanted, forcing you to grab on to something to hold until it passed.
 Suddenly a big gust of wind blew you to the right and knocking you off your feet to roll for several feet. When the wind slowed, you rolled over onto your back to spit out the mouthful of snow that you’d managed to ingest. It took you several tries to stand, but when you did, you tried to see where you were and what direction you needed to walk in. That was when the wind picked up again, making you scream. When you turned, you saw two headlights coming right at you, then all you felt was pain before you were out cold.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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pedro-pascal-love · 4 years ago
Text
The Past
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Chapter Four of Well, This is Awkward
Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ Join My Taglist 
Rating: 18+, NSFW
Word Count: 2k+
Summary: Some things come to light about Reader’s past and Dave is a tease.
Warnings: Language, angst, slow burn, graphic descriptions of sexual acts but no sex (yet!)
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A week. That’s how long you’d had been avoiding Dave at all costs. You made damn sure not to be caught alone with him whenever possible, always having one of the girls there or being out of the house running errands while the girls were at school. As far as you could tell, Dave was avoiding you too. Which you’d admit hurt your pride a little bit, but hey, he was married, so you had no right to be upset.
You’d tried to get your mind off him as much as you could by working on things around the house or helping the girls out with homework, but you could only do that so much before boredom overtook you. Whenever you weren’t busy with the girls or doing errands, you often hung out in your room on your phone or laptop, just scrolling through social media. You’d done your nails several times this week already and had perfected the art of folding your towels five different ways and rearranging your bedroom. Yeah, you weren’t going a little stir crazy at all. Carol was due back from her trip in a week, and you’d hoped to avoid Dave the rest of the time until then, but fate had other ideas.
It started like any other day; you’d gone to drop off the girls at school and then hidden away in your room. Two hours passed before you heard a peep from around the house, and it came in the form of a knock on your door. Your heart stopped; your breath hitched.
“Yes?” You called out, nerves consuming you in anticipation.
“It’s Dave, mind if I come in?” Dave replied through the door. You looked down at your clothes, contemplating if you should change or not. All that preserved your modesty was a pair of yoga pants and a tight-fitting tank top.
Fuck, you thought. You straightened yourself up and took a deep breath, putting a pillow on your lap under your laptop and took in a deep breath.
“Come in,” you stated, bracing yourself for his entry. Dave quickly opened the door, and it took everything in you to remain conscious. How would a man look so good in merely a dress shirt and trousers?! Dave made his way to you and sat on the foot of the bed while you scooted back a little bit more on the bed and propped yourself up against the headboard.
“What can I do for you today, Dave?” You inquired.
“I think you and I need to have a little chat,” Dave replied. You bit your lip.
Fuck, I do not like where this is going.
“What about? Is something wrong?” You replied nonchalantly.
“Yes. You’ve been avoiding me this last week, and I’d like to know why,” Dave stated, cutting right to the chase.
Fuck.
“Oh….Um….Well, you see….” You stammered out, not sure how to answer that without sounding like a complete idiot.
“I mean, I have a few guesses, but I wanted to hear it from you.” You sighed, hearing his words.
Here goes nothing.
“Yeah…..I have sort of been avoiding you, and I’m so sorry if it came off as rude,” you began. “It’s just; I’m not sure how to handle this situation.”
“What? The fact that you and I have fucked, and now you’re my children’s nanny?” Dave blatantly asked. You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, but his words didn’t stop there.
“The fact that I’ve had you bent over, with my cock deep in your soaking wet pussy, letting a stranger fuck you in a public place?” You clenched your thighs at his words, the action not going unnoticed by Dave, as his eyes shifted down to your legs covered up by the pillow. You gulped and nodded,  eyes downcast.
“I see…..Well, I guess I can only assume that you wanted to pretend like that never happened. However,” Dave paused. You lifted your eyes and met his gaze. “What if I don’t want to go on as if nothing happened?” You felt the fire in your soul flare. Were you really hearing his words? Dave got up and moved until he was sitting next to you on the bed, shutting your laptop, setting both the pillow and the computer down next to you.
“See, Princess, I kind of really liked how you felt around me. Feeling the tight walls of your pussy clench around me, milking me for every last drop.” The pet name made you bite your lip and fidget with your hands. You didn’t want to let his words affect you, but they were, and you felt yourself grow hot at the memories. You felt Dave place his hand under your chin and bring your face up to meet his stare. You hadn’t realized how close he was to you until that moment. Should either of you lean forward, just the smallest amount your lip would meet. You inwardly shuddered at the thought.
DAMMIT NO! You scolded yourself.
“Dave, you’re married!” You finally croaked out, snapping your head back so fast it almost hit the headboard. You watched wide-eyed as Dave threw his head back and laughed.
“That didn’t stop you before, baby girl,” he coolly replied. You felt your blood start to boil. He was married, and yet here he was acting like he wasn’t.
“I didn’t know you were married that night,” you shot back, crossing your arms.
“No, but you know now, and I can tell that you still want me,” Dave smirked.
Damn him.
You shook your head, adamant not to fall under his spell, but your willpower was waning.  Dave leaned in close to your ear. “C’mon, sweet girl, you’re going to resist, Daddy?”
“Dave….” you whined, your breath hitching feeling his breath on your ear. Dave smiled and moved your face to capture your lips with his. Heat engulfed your bodies as you moaned into the kiss, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him closer to you. Dave took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and battling for dominance. You whined as you felt him bite your lip and then pull away, your lips swelling from the interaction.
“That’s what I thought,” Dave said as he got up and walked out of the room, leaving you hot and bothered.
“Fuck!” You cursed out as you brought your fingers to your lips, feeling the ghost of his kiss. “I am so fucking screwed.”
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Dave was annoyed, to say the least. You’d been avoiding him for the last week since your encounter in the hallway, and he’d had enough of it. He’d spent all week watching you on the cameras, watching as you touched yourself when nobody else was home, listening to your little whines and moans. He’d spent all week listening to you pant out his name, and he’d jerked himself off to the image of being there with you. He had begrudgingly given you space this last week and studied you. He wanted to know what made you tick and see if he’d be able to get away with the plans formulating in his mind.
Carol was due back in a week, and he damn well wanted to have you before his wife was back in town, and his chance at more fun would fly out the window. Today he would take what he wanted and tease you, even if it ended up with him getting blue balls in the process. Dave had chosen today when he knew you’d be caught off guard, and boy was he glad he’d done that. Your little make-out session in your bedroom was just the beginning, and he could tell that you’d eventually give in to him. He watched you on the security feed as you laid in bed, annoyed that he’d left so abruptly, and was pleasantly surprised when you picked up your phone to call your friend Melody. Dave got onto his computer and decided to tune in to your little conversation to see what you two were chatting about.
“Hello?” Mel answered.
“Mel, I’m so fucked,” you started. He could hear Mel on the other end of the phone laugh at your words.
“What happened?” she implored.
“Dave…..He…UGH. He needs to stop being so damn sexy!” you proclaimed. Dave smirked at your antics while Mel laughed.
“I mean, he looked fine as hell when you met him; you can’t just turn that kind of sex appeal off,” she replied. You groaned, and he watched on the screen as you slapped your forehead.
“I know! It’s so bad because I want to jump his bones. Like ALL THE TIME,” you said exasperatedly. “And I hate that he’s married, Mel. It’s so fucked. I don’t know how things in their marriage are like, but Carol seems like such a nice woman.” Dave’s ears perked up at the mention of his wife.
I wonder where this is going to go, he thought as he heard you sigh into the phone.
“I know. It’s pretty fucked that he slept with you that night at the bar, but at the same time, that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know,” she consoled. “For all you know, they might have like an open marriage or some shit like that.”
“Yeah, who the fuck knows, man. But uh, you should probably know something…” You trailed off.
“Did you sleep with him?!” Mel exclaimed through the phone, both sounding concerned but also excited. "Girl, you know I wouldn’t judge you if you did, ‘cause hot damn, I’d love to be in your situation with a hot boss and all, but the whole Carol thing is just weird.”
“No, no, I didn’t sleep with him, but damn do I want to,” you replied with a laugh. “No, he just came into my room a bit ago, and fucking called me out on why I’d been avoiding him. AND THEN THE MOTHERFUCKER KISSED ME!!!” Dave could hear Mel gasp through the phone and then burst into laughter.
“Oh man, what?!”
“Yeah! He came in all serious and then was like, ‘Have you been avoiding me cuz we had sex?’ and he started fucking dirty talking, all like describing how it was when we were at the bar,” you continued.
“OH MY GOD. HOT DAMN GIRL! That’s some fucking Big Dick Energy if I ever,” Mel cackled. Dave shook his head. You girls were too much, and he liked your friend.
“I KNOW! And then he like got all close to me and just - ugh! I even called him out about how he’s married, and you know what he did? He fucking said that he knew I wanted him even after finding out he was married. It’s like he’s a goddamn spy or has eyes watching me or something!” Dave let out a chuckle at your words. Oh, if only you knew how close you were with that statement.
“Oh, man. That’s so hot,” Mel laughed.
“Yeah…But then the son of a bitch went and kissed me!” you said as you threw your head back with a groan. “And Mel, it was so fucking hot. Ugh. It seriously took everything not to rip his clothes off.”
“Oh my god!”
“I KNOW! And then the fucker had to be like ‘That’s what I thought,’ all sexy-like, and then he walked out!” You cried as you flung yourself into your bed while Mel cackled even more over the phone.
“Hot diggity damn, girl. I say you march into his office or room or wherever he is and take what you want. Better yet, tease the fucker back,” Mel suggested. You pondered her statement for a moment and grinned.
“Give him a taste of his own medicine? Fuck, I really should!”
“Do itttttttt,” Mel encouraged. “But you should be careful. Like maybe a little teasing and stuff, but until you figure out what’s going on with him and Carol, don’t cross that line, you know?”
“Yeah, good point. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, but like fuck, he makes it so hard,” you whined.
“I know, chicka, I know. Who knows, maybe he’d leave your wife for you,” she joked. “Wouldn’t that be a twist!” Dave quirked an eyebrow at her words.
I mean fuck, I never had that thought before, but the girls do love her, and we have a lot of chemistry that not even Carol and I had when we first got together, Dave thought to himself.
“Oh my god, Mel. Don’t say that! Dammit, I’m going to Hell,” you groaned out as you laughed.
“It’s ok; I’ll make sure to save you a seat!” “I feel like such a teenager right now, though, dude. Like I don’t know how I’m going to survive.”
“Take it one day at a time, but make sure to keep your head on straight. I’ll support you no matter what, you know that. If you want to pursue things with him and be happy, then go for it. Just make sure that you don’t get hurt in the long run, you know?” Mel said.
“I know, I don’t want to have to deal with another heartbreak. Especially after what happened with Tom,” you breathed into the phone with a sigh. Dave felt a ping in his heart. He knew all about your situation with your ex-boyfriend Tom and how badly that had ended. He knew all about the abuse that you’d been through at the hands of that asshole and had seen the police reports and photos of your battered face. Thankfully Tom was rotting away in prison, but only after he almost killed you. Dave felt his blood boil at the thought of someone hurting you.
“It’s going to be alright, girly,” Mel consoled. “I don’t think Dave is like Tom at all, and Tom is rotting away after what he did to you.”
“Yeah, I know….I’m just scared,” you whispered into the phone. “Anyways, I have to take a shower and run a few errands in a bit, so I’ll let you go.”
“Ok. You be careful, ok? And take care of yourself,” Mel said as you bid each other farewell and hung up. Dave watched you sit in bed for a moment and contemplated going into the room and comforting you but thought better of it.
I’m getting a little in too deep with her.
Shit.
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heylookafanfic · 4 years ago
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Title: What Could Go Wrong?
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!Reader, 
brief summary: With your dad, Aaron Hotchner, being the BAU unit chief, he did whatever he could to protect you. When you get invited to a party for the first time, sneaking out doesn’t sound so bad. What could go wrong?
word count: 3,706 words
requested: Nope, original! (send in those requests!) 
warnings: cursing, getting roofied, getting yelled at, predatory men
Your dad, Aaron Hotchner, was extremely protective over you not only because his job can put you and your brother, Jack, in danger but he already lost a family member and refused to lose another. Having an overprotective father meant you had a list of rules.
The door was to remain completely open when your significant other came over and no sitting/laying on the bed
No leaving the house after sundown
You can’t sleep over at anyone's house, they had to sleep over at your house
You have to ask to go somewhere
If your dad wasn’t home and the doorbell rang, you couldn’t answer it
And that is just the surface. You understood why your dad was so strict but you never got to have a life. To make things worse, your friends always post pictures from parties on Instagram and all you could do is sigh and keep scrolling knowing you’ll never get to go to one.
One day, you were in communications class listening to the professor lecturing about the upcoming semester project. Luckily, you got to pick your group for it and when they dismissed the class to find partners, you quickly turned to your best friend,Vanessa.
“I guess we’re partners, huh?” you chuckled
“Of course!” she said
“So, what do you want to make our project about?”
“I have no idea. I barely paid attention this chapter”
“Try to think out of the box a bit. What’s gonna make ours stand out?”
“Since the class is about communications, how about human interaction?”
“What about it?”
“Like how you haven't had any human interaction lately” she said with a smirk
“You know my dads strict. I can’t even breathe without him being on edge” you said
“You need to live a little Y/N. You’re in college and you’re still being treated like a kid.”
“I know, I know but I don’t know how to convince him to let up a bit”
“Here’s the thing, I’m going to a friend's kickback tomorrow night. This is your chance to finally hang out with someone who isn’t me, Jack or your dad ”
“He’s gonna say no regardless even if I tell him that you’re going with me.” you said
“I’m not saying to sneak out but...” she said with a shrug
“You know he has cameras around the entire perimeter of the house, right?”
“Just say you’re sleeping over at my house”
“Can’t do that either, remember? All sleepovers have to happen at my house”
“I understand having to be cautious because your dads in the FBI but doesn’t he realize that you’re in college?”
You thought about it for a second.
“That’s it! How about you sleep over but I’ll say that you forgot your meds. That’ll give us an excuse to leave”
“Won’t he be suspicious though?”
“Probably not. He trusts you out of all of my friends”
“You’ve got a point. What time am I coming over?”
“What time does the kickback start?”
“9 pm”
“Come over at 7. We’ll be finishing up dinner and it’ll give us time to get ready”
“Awesome”
The both of you packed your backpacks and went home. This would be the first time you’d be sneaking out and you were pretty nervous because so many things could go wrong but you’re with your best friend so, what could possibly go wrong?
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*Hotchner Household- The next day*
You were in your room finishing up your psychology homework when your dad called you and Jack down for dinner
“Y/N and Jack, come down for dinner” he yelled from the kitchen
“I’m almost done! Give me two more minutes!” you shouted
“Come down now before it gets cold”
You sighed and closed your laptop. As you were walking out of your room, you saw Jack coming down the hall.
“I’ll race you to the dinner table. Loser has to wash dishes tonight” you challenged
“You’re gonna lose like you did last time” he said
“That’s only because you pushed me, short stuff” you chuckled
“I won fair and square though, didn’t I?”
“Anyway…ready, set, go!”
The both of you raced down the hallway and downstairs. Your dad heard all the stomping and already knew what was up. You lightly pushed Jack and he tumbled towards the couch by the living room. Your dad had his hands out by his sides, waiting to see who would finish 1st. You ran and tagged in, winning.
“You pushed me!” Jack complained
“I won fair and square though, didn’t I?” you chuckled
“Dad, Y/N cheated and they said that I’d have to wash dishes after dinner”
“Karmas a bit-” you were cut off
“Enough you two. Go wash your hands and make your plate” your dad said
*During dinner*
“So, how was everybody’s day?” he asked
“I found out that we’re dissecting a frog in class next week” Jack said
“They still do that?” he asked
“Yeah, everyone in my class thinks it’s cool but I’m not looking forward to it”
“Why is that?”
“Because, it’s gross. I asked if I could do an extra credit project instead but my teacher said no”
“Sorry bud. How about you Y/N? How was your day?”
“It was okay. We were assigned a group project yesterday so Vanessas coming over later to study. Is that cool?”
“Which Vanessa?”
“Dad. You’re kidding, right? The same Vanessa I’ve been best friends with since kindergarten?”
“Oh, her. Yeah, she can come over. What’s your project about?”
“It’s a research slideshow about human interaction”
“If you have time, you should drop by the office and ask your aunts and uncles for help. Especially your uncle Spencer. He’ll tell you everything you need to know; easy A” he said
Suddenly, his phone chimed.
“Work?” you and Jack ask
Your dad shook his head and took one last sip of his drink before getting up from the table. He was running around the house grabbing his go bag and work essentials.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back but if I’m not back later tonight, Y/N you know the drill” he said
“Close and lock all doors and windows, don’t answer the door, Jack is to be in bed by 9:30 and lights out at 11” you recited
“And Jack?”
“No video games or TV until homework is done and Y/N is in charge” he groaned
“Good. Y/N?”
“Yes?”
“Vanessa is the only one permitted in the house. Understood?”
“Yes sir”
“Alright, bye! I love you two!” he said
Your dad rushed out the door, hopped in the car and sped off to work. Your dad pretty much being on call can be annoying sometimes because he’s usually away for a few days and misses out on family time. Usually, it’s a bummer but tonight, it was working in your favor.
“Now what?” Jack asked
“How about we finish up dinner and I’ll help you with your homework so you can have the rest of the night to yourself?”
“Sweet!” he responded
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Later that night*
Vanessa had already been at your house for 2 hours and while Jack was getting ready for bed, you were about to leave for the kickback.
“What time did you say your little brother goes to bed?” Vanessa asked
“9:30”
She sighed
“We’re going to be late by then. Can’t we leave earlier?”
“We can’t. If I’m not here to make sure he’s asleep, he’ll be up all night”
“Jacks like what, 10? He’ll be fine. Plus, it’s a Friday night. It’s not like he has school tomorrow.”
You gave it a second thought. Jack is old enough to put himself to bed and the party wasn’t going to be worth going to if you were late.
“Fine. Give me a second and then we can go” you said
You walked down the hall to Jack’s room and knocked.
“Come in” he answered
“Hey bud, are you almost ready for bed?” you asked
“Yeah, I gotta brush my teeth though.”
“Listen, Vanessa and I are going out for a bit tonight. Would you be okay if you were by yourself for a few hours?”
“You can’t leave! Remember what Dad said? ‘No leaving the house after sundown’ ?”
“I know, I know but it’s only for tonight and since Dad’s out at work, I’ll let you stay up and play video games until I get back”
“Won’t we get in trouble? If he finds out, we’re gonna be grounded”
“He won’t find out unless we tell him….which we won’t. Right?”
Jack thought the situation through for a second.
“Right” he said
“Cool. Vanessa and I are leaving in about 5 minutes. Rules still apply to you though. I don’t care who rings the doorbell. If it’s not me or Dad, don’t answer it. Understood?”
“Yeah”
“Alright, all the doors and windows are locked so you’re safe here as long as they stay closed. I’ll be back in a few hours. Love you!” you said
“Love you too!” Jack responded
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*At the kickback*
This was your first time sneaking out of the house and honestly, you didn’t think your plan would work. You thought that by now you’d be at home getting an earful from your dad because you got caught but, what perfect timing?! Your dad getting called into work the same night?! It’s actually kind of funny how things work out. What could go wrong?
You and Vanessa pulled up to the party and parked in the driveway
“You ready Y/N?” she asked
“Yeah. I just can't believe our plan actually worked”
“I know right? You’re old man needs to let you live a little. You deserve to enjoy your youth. Now c’mon”
As you two walk in, loud music blares from the speaker and there’s people everywhere. Beer cans on the floor and furniture, red solo cups spewed about the floor, the smell of weed in the air and you can tell every guy is wearing cheap cologne because of how musky it is. You thought parties like this only existed in movies.
You knew a few people but due to not being the biggest social butterfly, you decided to cling to Vanessa all night.
“Y/N, this is my old theatre buddy, Vaughn. Vaughn, this is my best friend Y/N!”
“Hey, nice to meet you!” he welcomed
“Nice to meet you too!”
“Vanessas told me all about you”
“She has?”
“Yeah! Best friends since kindergarten?! You two go way back”
“Definitely!”
“This is actually Y/N’s first kickback!” Vanessa chimed in
“Your first? You’ve never been to a party?”
“Not really, my dad’s very overprotective so I never get the chance to really hang out”
“What changed his mind?”
“Actually, he’s out of town at the moment so, he doesn’t even know”
“Ahhh, sneaky you!” he chuckled
“Hey, I’m gonna go get a drink really quick. You guys want anything?” Vanessa asked
“I’m good but thanks” you said
“I’ll go with you” Vaughn said
“Y/N, I’ll be right back but in the meanwhile, go get out of your comfort zone a bit” she said
“Nice meeting you….”
“Y/N” you said
“Y/N! Right. I’ll see you later” Vaughn said
Vanessa and Vaughn made off into the kitchen and that left you to your own devices. You still weren’t comfortable enough to go and be social so you made your way to the couch. Luckily, you spotted the host’s dog and whistled at it. It trotted over to you and jumped up into your lap. This would be your comfort zone for the rest of the night.
*An hour later*
The host's dog had surprisingly fallen asleep while you scrolled through your phone. You weren’t gonna lie. You were sort of envious that it could sleep through all the noise. As you continued scrolling you noticed someone heading your way.
“Is anyone sitting here?” a voice asked
You looked up to see a tall figure with broad shoulders.
“Uh, no. You’re good to sit”
“Thanks” he said
You resumed scrolling on your phone
“Nice dog” he said making small talk
“I’d say thanks but it’s not mine. It just curled up next to me and fell asleep” you spoke
“With all this noise?”
“Exactly what I’m saying!” you chuckled
“I’d kill to be a heavy sleeper” he said
“If only, right?!”
You two sat in silence for a second
“I’m Brady”
“Y/N”
“Nice to meet you. So, how’d you find out about the kickback?”
“My friend is friends with the host so she invited me”
“That’s a good friend!”
“Yeah, this is my first party actually”
“Really? How?”
“Overprotective parent”
“Ah, I know your struggle. Well, if you don’t mind, how ‘bout we drink to that?”
“Uh- okay. Thanks!”
“What’s your poison?” he asked
“I’ll take a beer please”
“A beer? Ooh, so you like to play it safe huh? I’ll be right back”
Brady got up and walked into the kitchen. You were actually excited because not only is this your first party but someone came up to you instead of the other way around.
“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” a voice said
You turned your head and it was Vanessa
“What took you so long?”
“I was getting a drink, remember?”
“It took you a whole hour, 60 MINUTES, to get a drink and find me?!” you joked
“This place is huge”
“It’s a condo ‘Nessa”
“Anyway, you’ve been sitting by yourself this whole time? I thought I told you to go and socialize!”
“I did! I met this guy, Brady, and he’s getting us drinks”
“Oooo! I know you had a little game in that beautiful brain somewhere. Well, let me go before I ruin your moment. I’ll be in the living room if you need me” she said
Vanessa ran off again. Just as she left, Brady came back with drinks.
“Una cerveza for the party virgin” he said
“What?” you chuckled
“One beer like you asked” he chuckled
“Oh, thank you!”
“To your first party and to many more” he toasted
You two clanked your cups together and took a swig
“For someone who seems to be so sheltered, you sure downed it with no problem” he said
“Well, my Uncle Dave is italian so everytime we go to his house, he cohearses my dad into letting me have a little wine. He says the drinking age in Italy is 16 so, why not?” you chuckled
“Lemme guess, he’s the crazy relative in the family?”
“No, that’d be my aunt Penelope but he’s a close second”
The two of you talked about family, your dream career and your taste in music for about an hour. You were starting to think that maybe it was a good idea to sneak out. You would have never met Brady and the more you found out about him, the more you started catching feelings for him. Or maybe that was the beer talking. Speaking of beer, you were starting to think that that beer didn’t sit right with you. You started feeling dizzy and sick to your stomach.
“Hey Brady, I gotta go talk to my friend really quick but I promise I’ll be right back”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just not feeling the best”
“Do you want some water?” he asked
“I’m fine. I need to find Vanessa though”
You stood up and immediately sat back down
“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to lay down?” he asked
“I’m fine” you said
You didn’t notice but you started slurring your words. Things were going downhill and fast. Brady didn’t….no, he couldn’t have. Things were going so well with him and you thought you could trust him. He couldn’t have possibly done that to you. You couldn’t yell for Vanessa over the loud music let alone stand up without falling over. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
“Come on. I’ll take you to one of the bedrooms and you can lay down there until you feel better” Brady said
Fuck. You knew what you wanted to say but you couldn’t speak without slurring your words. Everything you said came out as incoherent. Brady stood up and helped you stand up, using him as a support. He started walking you towards the back until you felt a hand yank your hand
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” a voice yelled
Vanessa. Wait.. the voice was masculine.
Vaughn.
“I’m just helping them lay down. They’re tired” Brady said
“Leave them the fuck alone” Vaughn said sternly
“Mind your business dude” Brady retorted
“I know them so it is my business. I’m not going to tell you again. Leave them the fuck alone”
Brady dropped you but Vaughn quickly caught the rest of your body.
“Have fun with them, douchebag” Brady stormed off
Vaughn fireman carried you into the living room and sat you down
“Hey Y/N. It’s Vaughn. Are you okay?” he asked caringly
“Mmmrrmgh” you slurred
Shit.
“I’m gonna get Vanessa. I promise I’ll be right back, okay?” he said
Your head lulled around and you couldn’t move your limbs. All your energy was draining. This made him panic. As he tried to get you to squeeze his hand to get a response out of you, everything faded to black.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*45 minutes later*
You woke up but everything was blurry and everything sounded muffled. You were laying down but your sickness was worse because you were being jostled around.
“There they are. Hey sweetheart. Sir-” a voice said
You looked up and saw a dark figure. Your head was on someone's lap.
“Y/N? Come on sweetheart, keep your eyes open for me” the voice said
You took a few shallow breaths before attempting to sit up
“No no, stay still, okay?”
That voice was way too familiar and it made you feel at ease. There was only one person that could clear the clouds out on a rainy day with just their voice
“Aunt Penelope?” you softly spoke
“At your service!” she said
“Y/N?” another voice said
“Dad” you cried
“How’re they doing?”
“They opened their eyes a bit and heart rate is still pretty high but they’re stable” Penelope sighed with relief
“Dad? What’s happening?”
“Y/N? Can you hear me?”
You nodded your head.
“That’s an affirmative” Penelope relayed
”Listen, we’re heading to the hospital right now. You were drugged and you stopped breathing. We’re almost there so just hold on for me, okay?” he said
His voice was borderline quivering. He was scared but wanted to stay strong for you and the team. He already lost Hailey and lord forbid he was going to lose you too
Penelope rolled the window down a bit  so you could get some air but right before she could touch the button, your eyes closed again.
“Sir-”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*At the hospital*
You opened your eyes and saw a handful of blobs that got clearer as your eyes adjusted to the light.
“There they are!” said Rossi
“It’s about time” said JJ
“You were scared us for a second there, kid” said Morgan
Your whole family was there, excited for you to finally pull through
“Y/N!” Jack said excited
He hugged you and you had no choice but to hug him tighter. On any other day you’d be wrestling him for the remote but considering what happened to you tonight, you needed a hug from him
“For the record, I didn’t tell dad” he stated
Everyone laughed
“I got you lavender and chamomile tea, your favorite” Reid said popping his head in
“Uncle Spence!” you said
As you grabbed your tea, you saw your dad out the corner of your eye. Uh oh.
“Can we have a moment, please?” your dad asked
Everyone filed out and the door closed. He walked over to the blinds to close them.
“How’d you find out?” you softly asked
“Vanessa called me practically screaming that you were dead! You’re lucky that the case we’re working is local! What were you thinking?! You lied to me, waited until I left the house to sneak out to a party and thought ‘what could go wrong?’ ?!” he raised his voice
“Dad, I’m-”
“What? You’re sorry?! Y/N, before we got there, you died in Vanessa’s arms! How do you think I felt? I couldn’t get to you fast enough. I had to push my way through a bunch of teens just to find my kid dead”
“What do you want me to say dad? I’m sorry that you’re still dealing with trauma from mom dying, so much so that you’ve become a helicopter parent over Jack and I? If that’s what you’re looking for, it’s not my fault that she’s dead. ”
The room went so silent you could hear a pin drop.
“I didn’t mean-”
“I know”
Your dad started tearing up
“When I saw your body laying there, all I could see is your mom all over again. I was afraid that I’d have to tell Jack that his only sibling is gone, plan another funeral, and spend a lifetime beating myself up for not being there quick enough.”
“Dad, it wasn’t your fault though. It’s Foyet’s. He’s long gone now and you did what you could. This? This was my fault. I never should have snuck out. I never should have lied to you. Had I listened, none of this would have happened”
“None of this is your fault. It’s whoever did this to you’s fault.  The sneaking out part, I would have found out eventually and you would’ve been grounded until eternity but to find out this way? I could care less about punishment right now, all I care about is that the Hotchner kids are safe. The BAU might be my job but being a dad comes before anything”
He hugged you and squeezed you tightly.
“I love you more than you’ll ever know Y/N. Don’t you ever scare me like that again”
“Yes sir and I love you too”
A knock came from the door before being slightly opened
“Garcia wanted me to let you know that Quantico PD has the perp in custody and he’s being processed at the station” Prentiss softly said
“You hear that?” your dad said
You smiled
“I get to have a field day with him tomorrow. He has no idea what he has coming to him”
319 notes · View notes
kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago
Text
Under The Christmas Lights // Ashton Irwin
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Cass and I are having a blast so we hope everyone has been enjoying Hoe For The Hoe-lidays as much as we are. Her Cal blurb for the day, Baby Please Come Home, is up at @cal-puddies​ and it is one of my favorites from her, so you should definitely check it out if you haven’t already. (And as always, links to all of this week’s blurbs are in the event masterlist below!) Stay tuned tomorrow for our last set of blurbs and our grand finale on Monday: a galaxybrain co-write I guarantee you do not want to miss.
Extra thanks to Cass for helping me figure out what this story wanted to be. The overall concept remained but the structure, character details and tone of it took on a life of its own and morphed drastically as I was writing it. 
Warnings: Established slow burn with Neighbor!Ash, mentions of quarantine, a healthy helping of thirst and sexual tension, implied consensual voyeurism and exhibitionism, mutual masturbation
Word Count: 4048
Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist
Masterlist // Taglist and Ko-Fi linked above
Let  me  know  what  you  think!
"Quite the festive display you have there."
He stops at the end of his driveway, popping an earbud out as he turns towards your voice. Your next door neighbor, Ashton, stands in his yard, looking at you expectantly as you sit on your front porch, gesturing towards the freshly hung Christmas decorations all along his house.
"Oh thanks! I'm actually not even done. Waiting on a few more pieces to be delivered, really trying to merry things up, you know?" He answers, turning to collect today’s mail.
"Oh really? Everything's already so bright and eye-catching… up so early too," you punctuate your evaluation with a sip of coffee.
He smiles at you and you’re almost embarrassed to say you feel your heart skip a beat. You admit you had a bit of a crush on him when you moved in last year and for a while it seemed plausible you could’ve ended up more than just friendly neighbors. But that hope was yet another thing 2020 took from you.
Even though you were home more because of quarantine, you understandably had to interact with him less and less; gone were the days of “accidentally” baking too many cookies and walking over to offer him a plate or hoping your mail gets misdelivered so he’ll have an excuse to come visit you. These days, your visits were relegated to socially distanced greetings over the backyard fence and happenstance meetings like this.
“Yeah… I know it’s early in the season but I thought after the year we’ve all had, a little extra Christmas cheer couldn’t hurt,” he shrugs. He looks like he’s about to elaborate but then he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket; he apologetically but sincerely says, “Have a good night” and then scurries back to his house before you can get another word in.
It’s another couple of weeks before your next encounter, one night when you’re bringing the garbage can back up the drive and you hear Ash’s voice greeting you from his side of the fence.
“Those decorations certainly escalated, didn’t they?” You ask, amusedly peering up at his colorful house; the flickering icicle lights on the trim were a new addition, along with a big glowing snowflake and star sitting on his balcony.
“Does that mean you like it?” He laughs delightedly, walking up his own driveway. Your brain involuntarily appreciates how he looks with the lights reflecting off the dark wool trench coat he’s wearing; his hair is a lot longer than the last time you saw him, beard much darker and fuller. He looks good. You try not to think about it.
“Very pretty… not anything I would put up, but it suits you,” you comment, hoping your tone landed on the right side of the line between flirty and rude; you’re so out of practice at this, you’re not quite sure.
He takes it in stride. “That’s fair,” he chuckles. “No decorations for you this year?”
“Oh, I’ve got a wreath on my door,” you gesture. “May or may not get a tree. Little touches like that, things just for me; that feels appropriate but full on decorating this year… it just doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel true to what we’re all experiencing.”
He furrows his brow. “Do you think my decorations are dishonest?” He asks, looking interested in your perspective.
“Not yours specifically, lots of people in the neighborhood are doing the same thing, some started even earlier than you did,” you carefully try to explain. “It just feels like surrounding ourselves with these crazy festive decorations… it’s like we’re working very hard to convince each other, maybe even ourselves, that this year isn’t any different when that couldn’t be farther from the truth… it is different and it feels weird not to acknowledge that.”
You look up, hoping you haven’t offended him, that you don’t see like too much of a grinch; you find yourself surprised at how relieved you feel when he nods thoughtfully as he considers your point of view.
“I actually agree, people are definitely using the decorations as a bit of a coping mechanism,” Ashton states, leaning on the fence as he ponders. “But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I know for me, after spending so much time being upset that I was trapped in my house this year, I figured I should do what I can to make my house feel happy for once. Especially if I’m gonna spend Christmas alone in it.”
You marvel at how despite the heavy turn the conversation has taken, his face never darkens, his warm and cheerful aura never falters. “Oh. I actually hadn’t thought of it like that,” you admit, playing with the drawstring of your hoodie, wondering why you care that you’re feeling vulnerable around him. “I’ll be alone this year too. I guess it just doesn’t feel like Christmas to me so I don’t like reminding myself that it is that time of year. If that makes sense.’
He gives you a sad but empathetic look. “I totally get it. I felt like that for most of the year… birthdays, seasons changing… I didn’t want to admit any of it was happening,” he shares. “But I don’t know… not to seem like I have it all figured out, but if we can’t change how we react to the environment we’re in, I think there’s something to be said for changing the environment itself. It’s important to acknowledge what you feel but also letting in even a little positivity can do wonders.”
You offer him a soft smile, letting him know you appreciate his encouragement. “Even just seeing the wreath on my door every morning is a nice moment,” you confess.
Ash smiles back and you feel warmer than if you’d gone inside and cozied up in front of your fireplace. “See? A couple strings of lights, a little tree. Maybe break out with that big yellow Minion you put out on your lawn when you moved in last Christmas,” he teases, lightening the mood.
“OK, first of all, it’s not a Minion, it’s Woodstock from the Peanuts, thank you,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I’m surprised you remember that.”
“Well, it was quite the first impression,” he shrugs and you can’t help but notice how broad his shoulders look in that coat.
You lay in bed that night, the night’s events on a loop in your mind; you ended up standing outside and chatting over the fence for more than an hour. It was nice and stirred a sense of normalcy in you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. It stirred other feelings in you as well but you knew there wasn’t any sense in dwelling on that since it’d be a long time before either of you would be able to do anything about that.
A few days later, you hear a muffled murmur that sounds a lot like your name while you’re washing dishes; you look out the kitchen window to see Ashton waving at you from his patio. He’s shirtless and sweaty, having clearly just finished his afternoon yoga session. Not that you had taken to timing your kitchen chores to coincide with his workouts.
You signal to him to give you a minute and then you head out the backdoor to chat. “What’s up?” You say as casually as possible, willing yourself to keep your eyes trained on his face and not the sweat dripping over his defined muscles or how low his athletic shorts are hanging.
“Your house is looking nice,” he gestures at the colored lights you recently hung around your window frames. “Little touches, just for you, like you said. I like it.”
You beam at him, impressed that he remembered your words from the other night. “You were right, I do feel a bit brighter having put those up,” you share, stuffing your hands in your hoodie pocket to keep from fidgeting, thinking about how much you’d like to brush the curls out of his eyes.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he replies jovially. “I actually have something for you.” He gestures for you to back up as he ducks inside his backdoor, retrieving the package off his kitchen table; he walks back out and smiles when he sees you’ve also turned around so he can surprise you. He sets the box over the fence and returns to his patio; he waits a beat longer than necessary to give you the all clear, he had to give himself a second to appreciate your ass in those leggings.
You spin around and see a box containing an inflatable light up Minion wearing a Santa hat. “Are you kidding me?!” You burst out laughing, picking up the gift to inspect.
“Figured Woodstock could use a buddy,” he laughs, shrugging. “Ordered it when I came inside after our talk the other night, just in case you changed your mind about decorating.”
You feel yourself blush. “Wish I could offer you more than a smile and a thank you,” you blurt, before realizing how forward that sounded. “I mean, like a hug or dinner or something…” You laugh nervously and look to see him trying and failing to hold back a devilish smirk.
“Well. When the time is right, I’d love to take you up on that offer… for the hug or the something,” he flirts.
The next day, you make Christmas cookies and leave some in his mailbox when he goes for his morning run. When he comes to tape a thank you note to your front door, he catches a glimpse of you through the window, decorating the tabletop Christmas tree you bought for yourself and you share a nice moment.
You gave him your phone number that time pre-lockdown when he went out of town and you watered his lemon tree; he finally starts using it, texting you on and off throughout the day and it’s nice to feel like you finally have someone to share with.
It’s when you’re in bed at night, texting away, that you always wish you could share even more with him. Your phone says he’s typing a response and you turn over to stare across the room at your bedroom window, the one facing his bedroom window. His curtains are drawn but you can see the soft glow of a bedside table lamp illuminating the room; you wonder what color the lamp is. Wonder if he sleeps on the left or right side of his bed. Wonder what he’s wearing while he’s typing his messages to you. If he’s wearing anything at all. Wonder if he wants to ask you the same thing. You lay there, wondering, until your phone buzzes again and the cycle continues.
You carry on like this for the next couple of weeks, collecting feelings and building tension. A few days before Christmas, you hurry outside to collect the packages that were just delivered by the mailbox, rushing to bring them in before the holiday Zoom party you have planned with friends.
You stop to text your pals you’ll be a few minutes late when you hear a sharp gasp behind you. You turn and see Ashton at the end of his driveway, eyes poring over you in the fitted green velvet wrap dress you’re wearing.
“You sure cleaned up for the mail delivery?” He jokes, trying to recover how clearly affected he is by the sight in front of him. You realize it’s the first time in months he’s seen you in anything besides hoodies and lounge pants.
You laugh, walking to the fence. “I have a Zoom party to attend but I didn’t want these boxes sitting out here all night,” you explain, instinctively starting to touch your face out of nervousness before stopping yourself for the sake of the dark red lipstick you have on; you’re not used to wearing makeup these days.
“Well… you look fuckin’ incredible,” he breathes, making no attempt to disguise the way his gaze is travelling up and down your body. He runs his hand through his hair and clears his throat, willing himself to move on. “I won’t keep you, then. I just wanted to ask you something.”
You lock eyes with him and feel your heart speed up; usually you’d have a quippy reply to shoot back to him but today, all you can think of is the heat you feel between the two of you. Instead, you nod attentively, trying your best to act like your mind isn’t distracting you with daydreams of walking around to his side of the fence and leaping into his arms.
“I know we’re both alone for the holidays… wish I’d thought of this sooner, so we could’ve done something about Christmas, actually… but say if we were to properly quarantine - you know, like, no outside contact at all quarantine - would you want to spend New Year’s together?” He’s speaking quickly, rushing it out as if he’s afraid he’ll lose his nerve and yet he presents his proposal with an assurance that almost hypnotizes you.
You can’t keep from grinning ear to ear but you still try to play it cool. “That could be fun,” you answer, grateful. You joke, “God, I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at a party for New Year’s, what do people even do to celebrate at home?”
Without missing a beat, he suggestively replies, “I’m sure we can think of something.”
You have fun with your friends on Zoom but in the back of your mind you can’t stop thinking about the way that Ash looked at you, the honest hunger in his eyes. You keep your curtains open much later than usual, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, wondering if the lights around the window will catch his eye and he’ll stop to try and catch a glimpse of you.
New Year’s can’t get here fast enough as far as you’re concerned but time feels like it’s moving slower than ever. Christmas finally arrives and you wake up bright and early to Zoom your family to open the presents they sent you. Afterwards, you decide to give yourself the gift of going back to sleep; when you wake up a few hours later, you tidy up the living room, gathering the trash bags of torn wrapping paper and ribbons to take out to the garbage.
You step outside and note Ashton isn’t on his patio like he is most mornings; you’re just about to head back inside when you hear a warm “Merry Christmas” from over the fence.
You turn to see him wearing a smile brighter than his extravagant Christmas lights display and yours combined. “How’s your morning?” He asks earnestly.
You smile back. “It’s good! Slept in a little, Zoomed with the fam. Lowkey but nice.”
“Ohhh. That’s why you weren’t at the window this morning,” he muses. You look at him quizzically and a sheepish look washes over his face. “I’ve maybe noticed that you seem to like tidying up the kitchen around the same time every morning… maybe sometimes when I’m ready to start my stretches, I’ll check to see if you’re at the window yet. Maybe sometimes if you aren’t there yet, I’ll wait.”
You feel yourself flush, flattered. “Here I thought I was being voyeuristic when all along you’re just an exhibitionist,” you smirk.
He chuckles knowingly. "And you're leaving your curtains open all hours of the night for aesthetic reasons?"
You're surprised you don't feel embarrassment, just a sense of pride and overwhelming desire. "You're welcome," you say coyly.
Completely devoid of self-consciousness or hesitation, Ash says seriously, "I'd give anything to come over there and kiss you right now. Touch you. Just feel you."
Your breath catches but you manage to get out, "Six days. Just gotta get through this week. Somehow."
The interaction plays over and over in your mind throughout the course of the day: the confident way he told you he wanted you, the way his gaze seemed to devour you entirely, the simultaneous relief and ache you felt knowing that the yearning that’s been threatening to overtake you has him floundering too.
Six days is a long time, especially when you’ve not so much as grazed another person since the beginning of the year, not to mention you’ve been waiting to get to this place with Ash for over a year.
The idea enters your mind while you’re cleaning up your dinner dishes, peering out the kitchen window he’d freely admitted to using to perform for you. You slip out to the garage, finding the box with your usual Christmas decorations much more easily than you expected. You glance at his living room window, ensuring he’s occupied before heading up to your bedroom to set your plan in motion.
You add as many strings of lights to your bedroom window as you can fit: colored ones, white ones, blinking ones, the ones that get slowly brighter and then dim back down. You stand back and nod to yourself, pleased with your work. You’d certainly call this eye-catching.
You feel more excited than nervous when you see it’s already around the time that Ashton usually heads upstairs for the night. You see the light in his room go on and you wait impatiently, just long enough for you to wonder if you didn’t go far enough with your display. You jump as your phone buzzes on your nightstand with a text message.
“Feeling extra festive tonight?”
You chew your lip, weighing how to play this. “Wanted to be sure I had your attention.”
He types for what feels like a lifetime but all he ends up responding with is: “Oh?”
You push yourself off your bed and go stand in front of your window, responding, “I think I’ve figured out how we get through the next week.”
You see him through his window, shirtless and in his boxers, laying on the bed with his phone. He reads your message and runs his hand over his beard, lost in thought; his head turns towards the direction of your house, pondering, when he notices your illuminated figure. You see him sit straight up and stare in disbelief as it dawns on him that you’re standing at the window, dressed in a lace lingerie set that has him almost feeling dizzy from how fast the blood is rushing to his cock.
He walks over to his own window, needing a closer look; he groans as he takes in every detail: how the red color of the bra and panties contrasts against your skin, how the black lace trim accentuates your curves, how the strappy detailing of the underwear present you as a Christmas gift meant just for him to unwrap. The lights around your window cast a glow around you, making you look like even more of a holiday fever dream come to life.
His eyes meet yours and you hold his gaze as you run your hands slowly down your body; you start by trailing down your neck to the straps of your bra, tracing along the lace outline with your fingers. You give your breasts a firm squeeze as you run your palms over the cups, stopping to use your thumbnail to tease your nipples until they poke through the thin material. Your fingers dance down your torso, swirling around the lines of your belly, pulling at the waistband of your bottoms. You tauntingly skip over your hips entirely, moving to caress your thighs.
Your phone buzzes again and you pause your show to reach for it. “Wish it were me,” Ash’s confession reads.
“In my mind, it is,” you reply, sitting your phone aside to dip into your panties. You lick your lips, in awe of how aroused you are, how aroused you’ve been since you decided to create this situation.
Ashton gulps and if he wasn’t so blinded by lust, he would’ve laughed at how audible the sound was in his ears. He wants to text you back, wants you to know how he’s dying for this week to pass so he can ravish you with the attention you deserve, the attention he should’ve given you a long time ago. But he also doesn’t want your hand to stop moving inside your underwear, so he waits.
You spread your wetness around, teasing yourself slowly. You considered bringing your bullet vibe to the window with you but you figured you were going to be overwhelmed enough and you weren’t going to need any help getting off. You close your eyes as you trace around your clit, not allowing yourself to put much pressure on it just yet, not willing to risk having this be over too soon.
He sees you throw your head back in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut, lips swollen from sucking them between your teeth and he can’t take it anymore. He pulls his cock out through the hole in his boxers and starts stroking, exhaling in relief at how instantly good it feels; he spits in his hand to ease the friction at first but it only takes a few tugs for precum to start trickling from his tip. He groans and pumps faster, knowing this won’t take long.
You press a fingertip inside yourself and moan a lot louder than you expected; you open your eyes and notice his stare remains unwaveringly focused on you, only now his hand is working his cock. He moves rapidly up and down his shaft, seemingly unconcerned with taking it slow. Part of you wishes his movements would slow down so you could get a better look at his dick but you also love that he’s seemingly so turned on by the thought of having you that he needs immediate gratification.
He tries to keep up with you, matching you stroke for stroke as you continue working yourself up, hand speeding up inside your panties, hand pawing at your clothed breast. His rough grip catches on one of the veins running down his cock and he chokes out a strained curse; he notices your mouth keeps forming a perfect O shape as you react to your self pleasure and he lets out his own whimper as he imagines how heavenly your sounds must be.
“I can’t wait to hear you when I make you cum for me.” You softly whine as you read his latest text. You’re nearly there and your head is spinning at the deliberate nature of his words: “When” he makes you cum “for him.” You rub hard at your clit and feel that familiar burning ache building in your core. You swear your wetness increases tenfold as you feel the pulsing begin.
Ashton’s cock leaps in his hand as he witnesses your body tense and shake as your orgasm washes over you; he notices your lips murmuring something and the thought enters his mind that you could be saying his name. He hopes you are.
You’re still waiting for your heart rate to settle, realizing there’s no way it will as long as you’re watching Ash pull at his cock like that. One hand flies over his length, the other firmly clutching his balls; his hips start to move, fucking into his hand as he nears the edge. You’re captivated watching his abs tense, fluttering with intensity until suddenly they’re being coated with cum. The ropes streak his skin and you decide it’s too soon to text him to share how badly you want a taste.
He hangs his head in exhaustion, briefly ducking away from the window to grab a tissue off the dresser; he cleans himself off, tucks his cock back in his boxers and finally looks back up at you. You smile softly at each other, though you’re not sure of the tone; it’s not exactly shy and it’s not entirely wistful. Whatever it is, it’s nice. Hopeful? Satisfied. For now.
You text him, “It’s after midnight now. 5 days.” 
You see him shaking his head, smiling as he types. “Still too far away. Same time tomorrow?”
You grin, shooting off your response before blowing him a kiss goodnight. “Still too far away. Meet you here after yoga tomorrow.”
————-
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hypercaffeinatedquery · 3 years ago
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SDR2 MBTI: Nagito Komaeda - ENFJ
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Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair (*spoilers*)
Nagito is an ENFJ!
An an intuitive, he deals with the world in the abstract, thinking in concepts, patterns and symbolism. Unlike an ESFJ, who might be most concerned with the well-being of their immediately family or social group, Nagito's concerned with the well-being of society and humanity itself, in a broader, more abstract way. His main focus and priority is improving the world in any way within his power. He lives in a universe where society values hope and talent. Unlike Chiaki in DR3, an Fi user (INFP), who challenges and goes against society's values, Nagito has accepted those values without question. He believes them to be universal, but has very poor logical arguments for them, suggesting he spends more of his time appreciating the hope and talent of the people around him and trying to take action to support them (Fe) and mostly neglects the logical consistency of these values, despite them being the most important thing in his life, and despite thinking about them a great deal (inferior Ti).
Everything Nagito does oozes Fe.
His greatest desires in life are to be useful to others, and to be loved. He fixates on the emotional content of what people say, rather than the logical content (e.g. Fuyuhiko in the funhouse, "Amazing... a heart that never gives up"). He has a tendency to deal with conflict with his peers passive aggressively (e.g. Kazuichi). He sees the world around him (e.g. a bed of flowers) in social metaphors. He feels a sense of responsibility for keeping the other students safe (yes, it's ironic, but he does when he goes into the final dead room). He thanks Nekomaru for his sacrifice for the greater good. He always talks about you, you, you, and when you ask about HIM, he's like "Sure, if that's what YOU want me to do!" He's also obviously a dom-extroverted judger in my opinion. He makes things happen: he drags Hajime around like a mom with a scared little kid in the prologue, he gets the plan to go his way in CH1, he effortlessly delegates in the funhouse, and he keeps things moving when they start to get derailed (Kaz and the rollercoaster). But it's not in a harsh, steamrolling Te-way like Twogami or Mahiru or Fuyuhiko bitching loudly at each other while everyone else watches; it's in a more subtle, finessed Fe way, almost in the background, like people don't even know he's doing it sometimes. And it works! He doesn't yell back and forth like the Te users about what to do, but he manipualtes them and gets what he wants anyways. He constantly exerts influence over people, and organizes them according to what he thinks is best.
Even his murders were Fe: The motive, to bring greater hope to the world (a value that is not at all unique), sacrifice himself in the process to bring about greater hope; but also the method (just think about other characters and how they implemented their plans. Gundham's, for example, was done by controlling time by setting clocks. All of Nagito's were done by heavily relying on emotionally manipulating others and predicting their behaviors and reactions).
He also uses Ni quite a lot. He's constantly forecasting the future, coming prepared (multitool), running through mental simulations of what is about to happen (the window in the octagon), and regularly commenting when he expected something to happen ("I knew you'd come here" in the threater) or when something susprises him ("I knew you'd show up, but I never expected it to be in [final dead room]"). He almost never uses Ne. He's not very interested in possibilities or novelty. He's much more steadfastly committed to a single idea (hope), and keeps things moving along steadily towards his consistent, hope-related priorities. Rather than expanding out (Ne), he distills everything down into one cohesive whole (Ni).
Some areas where people get confused:
"But people don't like him!"
Yes, people didn't like him, because he tried to get TeruTeru to commit murder (and he's a little bonkers). And yet, in a more normal circumstance, he was able to build rapport with Hajime very quickly, and even after the murder thing, he was remarkably still very influential, able to get Hajime and Mahiru to do what he wanted (even while literally tied up and isolated), get himself back into the middle of the action and the group (when he accepted Monokuma's file and read it for everyone; when he made a few well-placed comments to turn Kazuichi and Hajime against each other in the funhouse, and Nagito walked off to investigate with both Chiaki and Kazuichi), and keep things going the way he wanted them to (moving things along when Kaz didn't want to get in the rollercoaster).
"But he doesn't do what they want/makes them unhappy/he's selfish!"
Hot take: ENFJs can sometimes go against people's wishes. I've been studying an ENFJ on YouTube, and he strongly believes that unlike ESFJs, ENFJs are grand vision, big-picture people. The "group" they serve may not be a school, family, or community--it might be the entire world, or humanity itself, something larger and more abstract. And like possible ENFJs like Martin Luther King, who sacrificed the happiness of his own family and children for his greater loyalty to society, ENFJs (and Fe users), MAY sacrifice individuals for the greater whole. In fact, Fi users are more champions of the individual, while Fe users may expect individuals to sacrifice their own wants and needs for the group. Nagito isn't putting himself over his classmates; he cares about the greater hope and greater good of the world, and he's willing to sacrifice both himself AND his classmates for that. If a real, healthy ENFJ could put aside their own kids in order to achieve their humanitarian vision, why couldn't a really extreme one sacrifice strangers?
Values VS Morals
Nagito has almost no Fi. He has never once mentions morality. The idea of something being "right" or "wrong" doesn't even cross his mind. He's not interested in Fi judgments at all, only accepting society's value of hope and talent, and doing everything in his power to manipulate the world (and people) around him in service of that goal.
Summary:
Nagito is an ENFJ. Yes, he does extremeley unusual things. He is an extremely unusual person, thrown into an extremely unusual situation. But if you can make sense of those things, I think you can see how, in many ways, he is very clearly an ENFJ, and how this is expressed in his values, in the things he most wants out of life, and how it shapes how he interacts with the world and the people around him.
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Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.
Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.
Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)
Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.
UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.
Of Ice and Blood
Part 1
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Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.
It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.
When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.
Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.
Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.
She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.
Selkoth, the city of marvels.
Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.
[Start of the actual work]
I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.
Monday, the first day of my college life.
I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.
Time management is key.
I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.
Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?
I looked over to my mirror and it was—
Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.
'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.
"Yes mama, I will.”
With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.
I eat fast okay
Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.
Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?
I snickered.
As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.
My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!
I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.
Dramatic.
Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.
The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.
I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.
They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.
Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.
I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.
High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.
But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.
Which is kinda problematic.
I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.
Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.
Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.
I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.
I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.
*************************************
The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.
Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?
We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!
I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.
Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.
That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.
I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.
He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.
Beautiful.
The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.
I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.
“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.
Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.
Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.
Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.
I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.
There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.
"Are you...alright?"
I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.
“Uh…yes?”
The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.
“You were pushed earlier.”
Oh. He saw that?
“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.
“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.
He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.
“Tai'chi.”
Interesting.
“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”
He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.
“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."
***************************************
Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
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purpletaecup · 4 years ago
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2 ☾  it feels like you left a long time ago
Note: please disregard any errors in the pics it’s so hard to find a good fake tweet thing?? lol 
Maybe keeping your twitter wasn’t such a good idea after a highly publicized divorce with one of the most famous men in South Korea, but as a writer, you rationalized that social media is a big part of networking. Despite not following any of the people associated with your ex-husband and his company, news and tweets about them always find their way onto your timeline. Was there any way to somehow mute anything and anyone relating to Min Yoongi? Was there such technology? Every time you log on to hopefully vent or find inspiration or interact with fans, you find yourself digging deep into those tweets and spending hours wallowing in the dull ache that settles in your chest when reading the news involving Yoongi, his new girlfriend, and his friends who no doubt encouraged him to start a relationship with her while they were married. 
The familiar feeling of disgust settles in your stomach and you look out of your window only to realize it’s gotten dark. The sun, the only thing you found comfort in these days, has disappeared and gave way to the same dark sky that watched your life fall apart. The quick passing of time only made you realize that you spent your day being sad again instead of doing something productive, like continue writing in your journal, so you decide the it’s going to be a long night of working and writing again and that meant you had to go out and get some food to sustain you through it all. 
Before getting up, you notice that there are dark gray clouds rolling around. Ah, it might rain tonight, you think. You wouldn’t be out for too long. The convenience store was only 10 minutes away and at most, it would take you another 10 to get your food and go. You pick up the black coat left on your desk chair along with your purse and an umbrella. Going down 11 floors to the lobby of your apartment complex, you see that it starts to rain and it’s getting heavier by the second. It was probably a good idea to drive than walk like you had first intended, so you make your way to the parking garage where you had parked your Rolls Royce Phantom. Not the most convenient car to take in Seoul, but it was the only car you had and you had gotten it from the divorce because apparently Yoongi couldn’t leave you out on the streets with nothing. Thinking about that moment, you scoff. As if giving you the car would make you feel any better about having your heart broken and your life ruined. You hated driving this car, not only because of its luxury but because of your lack of confidence in driving it. Before the divorce, you didn’t drive around much but there was always someone there to help you. Now, you are completely alone in this large city.
 When you get in the car, you check the time to see if you’ll make it to the convenience store before they close. 8:21pm. According to your memory, the store closes at 9:30, so you should be fine, but you hurry to start the car anyways. There is a bad feeling settling in your stomach as you see the rain start to increase more and more, but you decide to ignore it. The goal for tonight was to just go to the store, get some food, go home and maybe write down at least a page or two in your journal. As soon as you get home, you will try to listen to your therapist’s advice to write down how you are feeling and start on the process of ‘moving on’. Tonight would be the start of a new beginning. 
As you drive out of the parking garage onto the streets, you realize that the rain was letting on harder than you thought it was. Seeing this made you nervous, and it made you zone out and think about other things to distract the feeling of nervousness. It was raining on that day too, you think, reminiscing about the day the divorce papers were placed in front of you by Yoongi’s lawyer. He didn’t even have the decency to give it to you himself. Remembering that made you tighten your grip on the steering wheel. That day, you had slammed the door in his lawyer’s face and waited until he left to run out of the house and sit under the pouring rain to cry. In that moment, there was something poetic about your tears being hidden by the droplets of rain falling on your face. 
After that, you constantly asked yourself why you were surprised about the divorce papers when you knew what he was hiding right under your nose this whole time. Though you know Yoongi would never physically cheat on you, he had willingly entertained the feelings of that woman and eventually returned them. They saw each other every day because he was the CEO of the company that she worked in and if there were any rumors about the growing feelings and subtle touches and looks shared between the married CEO of MYG Entertainment and the rookie model Kwon Yura, it would be shut down as quickly as it was brought up because Min Yoongi had that fucking power. He could protect that woman but he couldn’t protect you from the slander you faced when you first started dating, or when you got married. He didn’t protect you when his friends and co-workers constantly snubbed you or indirectly said something insulting about you at company events or Sunday dinners. When he started to drift apart from you, it was obvious. It’s like he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Late nights at the company turned into never coming home. Taking you to company events turned into not even telling you about them and then eventually turned into him taking her to the events instead of you. On top of that, he never really supported your decision to quit modeling and start writing, so really, should you be surprised that you got betrayed and your heart was trampled on by the man who claimed to love you more than anything in the whole world?
 No, you shouldn’t be surprised. In fact, you should have seen it coming. He was a coward who betrayed you in the worst possible way he could have, and you were a fake who couldn’t own up to your struggles and save the relationship. A pain shot through your heart and your train of thought was shattered by an ear-piercing honk coming from the other side of the car.
 Before you could even get a grasp of what happened, the car overturns and you feel your body being whipped by the force before everything goes numb. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest and you can vaguely see shards of glass cutting into your skin. You can’t feel it but there’s so much blood that you know it’s going to hurt like a bitch, if you even made it out alive. Your ears started ringing from the impact and it became so hard to breathe. 
 You give out a small laugh at the situation. All of the times you thought of dying and you never once imagined a fucking car accident. And on top of that, of all of the things you could have been thinking of in your last moment of life, you had to be thinking about the misery your ex-husband brought you. 
How ironic. 
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