#like yes i get it he’s irritating and frustrating and stressful as all hell
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fic-dumpster · 3 days ago
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The road so far
Summary: Have you ever wondered what goes through a writer’s mind while she’s trying to complete the stories you like so much? Well! Wonder no more! Here’s a first look into a writer’s unstable mind!
Characters: Bonten against Omi (no x because it’s war)
Word count: 1K
Content Warnings: fighting, slight breaking of the fourth wall, sitcoms, crackfic, it’s a joke. Yes, it can be read as x reader… just pretend. Hostility, a meme, DIH references, other fandoms mentioned.
A.N: TAKEOMI IS NOT OMI. I am Omi. I wrote this in 15 so it’s very rushed. idk… this is me trying to portray my internal struggles while I write. I just worked joke of 1000 words… and yes, characters never listen to what we want.
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“If you think we’re gonna cooperate with you after leaving us for almost three years, you’re delusional,” Kokonoi crossed his legs once he sat down in front of Omi.
Omi had called a meeting with Bonten in hopes of coming to an agreement. She needed to work on her WIPs but her characters weren’t cooperating.
“As a matter of fact, I am delusional,” Omi answered, sipping from her water bottle, “anyway, I just need to finish the rest of the meetings and we’re done! Swear!”
Around her, the rest of Bonten sat with serious faces. Nobody was happy to be there. After her disappearance a few years ago, things weren’t quite as peaceful between them as they used to be.
“Yeah, yeah. I see how you are. Use us and drop us.” Sanzu sounded bitter and angry. He didn’t take the vanishing so well. He had bonded with her and she just left him. That wasn’t right in his book.
“Ugh, women…” With a sigh, Rindou stretched his long limbs, showing how tired and stressed he was.
“What do you mean ‘ugh? Women?’” Omi harshly questioned Rindou with a frown on her face.
“Nothing…” he replied nonchalantly, sitting up straight once again.
“Forget that! You clearly have preferences for certain members.” As she heard that voice her skin began to crawl. Hair standing on end, Omi slowly turned towards the source— once she saw his obnoxious face, only irritation was left behind.
“Oh, shut up, Ran! I wrote your story with your brother first! Why are you complaining?” She quickly replied, raising her hand in protest.
“Because he’s one of those,” added Mochi in a whisper.
So much of a whisper that was… half the men present burst out laughing which caused Ran to sigh in frustration. He was done. So many years and he still didn’t know what the hell that meant.
“We can't just hop back in,” Takeomi’s voice raised above the hysterical laughter of his peers.
Omi deflated at his words. She dreaded the worst… Was this how things were going to end?
“Please, I’ll do anything! I can’t leave the story like that!” Her eyes began to water as desperation crept in.
“Well, too bad! You left!” Sanzu’s bitterness didn’t falter, not even at the sight of unshed tears in her eyes.
“I said I was sorry! And I was busy with life, you know?”
“Yeah? Life? Then who are those guys? Rhysand? Sylus? Jinshi?” Sanzu spoke each name with disdain.
“Yeah! Who’s Umemiya? And some dude named Hoshina?” Rindou backed him up.
“More? I only heard about Sanji—” Kakucho suddenly intervened but was cut off by Omi.
“Okay! Stop! Oh my gosh!! Stoop!” Omi’s face had changed three different types of red in the last few seconds, “That… has nothing to—“
“Bullshit! I call bullshit! You created a different blog for the Stylus guy!” Sanzu was not dropping the subject.
“Oh my gosh! Let it go! And his name is Sylus!”
“AHAA!” Pink hairs wildly flew everywhere as Sanzu stood up and pointed an accusatory finger at Omi.
“Just… just help me write the few chapters I’m missing and the end. That’s all I’m asking… I lost the WIPs and I can’t by myself…” she pleaded. Internally praying they understood her dire situation.
“What do we get in return?” Mikey finally spoke after observing the back and forth between his men and Omi.
That sentence perked her up. A ray of hope finally came in between the stormy clouds.
“What-what would you want?” She asked with bright eyes and a new determination ignited.
“We can discuss that later,” Mikey waved his hand dismissively.
Omi nodded eagerly in return. Finally! Some progress. ��Okay, fine… that’s good…”
After Mikey’s short exchange of words, they decided to end the meeting. It was time to move forward and begin working. Everyone stood up and began to leave the room.
They saw Omi move to the side with Takeomi and they started to talk amicably, with smiles and very friendly hand gestures. It was like time had never passed for them. She didn’t treat him differently and Takeomi seemed comfortable with her.
“Why does she like the old man…” Kakucho wondered out loud.
“It’s the daddy issues, I bet,” Sanzu was seething as he kept watching the scene play in front of him.
“What did you say?!” You turned your head like the exorcist once you heard those words leave Sanzu’s lips.
“Does she have superhuman hearing? How the hell did she hear you?” Ran said with a bit of panic in his voice.
And it began. Omi had been chasing the pink-haired man for a while now…
“I DON'T NEED YOU, SANZU! I CAN FINISH DIH WITHOUT YOU!” But before she could catch him, a pair of hands caught her first, “UGH! KAKUCHO LET ME GO! HE’S DEAD!”
Meanwhile a bit further away from the commotion.
“We have agreed to help her. Was it really necessary to do all the drama?” Questioned Takeomi to Mikey and Mochi. The three men watched the rest battling it out.
“We voted and the majority chose to make drama before agreeing,” Mikey said as his eyes followed Sanzu speeding away from Omi,
“Even Koko?” Mochi was surprised by that information.
“Even Koko.” Mumbled the short man.
“RAN, YOU TOO! BOTH YOU AND SANZU ARE DEAD!” Omi yelled, still being held by Kakucho who was trying to help diffuse the situation.
“What did I do?”
“YOU’RE ONE OF THOSE!” She kicked her feet in an attempt to be let loose, “I SHOULD HAVE KEPT WRITING FOR HAIKYUU! They wouldn’t treat me like this!”
“Yeah? Well, go and play ball with your sporty boys!” Ran screamed back.
“You’re insufferable!” Omi screamed as she tackled Ran to the ground.
“She became way more violent in the years we didn’t see her,” Mikey commented and the rest of his executive nodded in agreement. Everyone just watched Omi and Ran scuffling on the floor.
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Bonus:
Omi: and then you do as it says here *points to the script*
Kakucho: that’s too mean. I don’t want to do that.
Omi: you’re a criminal! How is it mean to push her face down and—
Kakucho: shhh no please *blushing*
Omi: I’m working with amateurs… *throws her stack of paper into the trash*
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earmo-imni · 2 years ago
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Why must my mother constantly engage in a fucking pissing match with my eleven-year-old brother.
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babyleostuff · 1 year ago
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Hiii!!! so I just read your cheol fic when he was being a dick for his s/o caring (it hurts... it's the beginning of the title, sorry brain is fried from uni) I was wondering if we could get the in-between of the fight like in the practice room after s/o left and everyone was shocked. mingyu fought him?? like gotta know what happened, anyway sorry if this is too long
hope yoyr day, night, evening, morning, or whatever time it is for you is going well!! your writing is so captivating too btw
-Nabi
thank you so much for your request 💜 hope you enjoy this!
you can find part 1 here
HURTS SO BAD | PART 2 | CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
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summary | seungcheol’s pov from my previous fic
genre | angst
word count | 1k
pairing | choi seungcheol x gn!reader
“Fuck you, Seungcheol.”
Instantly, as these words escaped your mouth, he regretted every single thing he just said, praying that he could somehow turn back time. But there was nothing he could do now, the damage was done, and he simply watched you leave with a heartbroken expression.
He wanted nothing more than to crumble into a small ball and hide somewhere far from here. 
Despite the music still playing from the speakers, the silence in the room was almost deafening. Seungcheol could feel the hard stares from the boys, as they tried to wrap their heads around what just happened. 
“Did you actually lose your mind?” Jeonghan was the first to speak up. Seungcheol didn’t dare to look up and face the disappointed expressions of his friends. 
“Never in all those years we have been together have you ever said anything so cruel, no matter how fuck up things were. And now you lash out at your, mind you, partner for being worried about you?” Jeonghan scoffed, clearly angry at his bandmate. 
Seungcheol knew that there was nothing he could say or do to make this situation better, he only stood there with hunched shoulders and a tight throat. 
“What has gotten into me,” he thought.
Yes, he was stressed as hell, and everything irritated him lately, but he swore he would never take his anxiety out on you. Well, until now. 
The jacket you threw at him caught his attention, laying abandoned on the floor. Is this how you feel right now - left behind and neglected, by the person who was supposed to love you no matter what? He took a step to pick it up, still feeling the warmth of your body coming from it. 
“I’m going to fix this,” Seungcheol said quietly, putting the fabric to his chest. 
“Did I hear you right, hyung? You’re going to make it right?” laughed Mingyu, approaching the older one. “You just yelled at your partner and told them the worst things you could have ever possibly said. We can put up with your bitchy behavior, but that’s not an excuse to treat them like shit,” he said, clearly very agitated by the whole affair. 
“Let it go Mingyu, he knows what he has done. It’s his problem now how he’s going to get out of this shit,” said Jihoon, putting an arm on the taller’s shoulder to calm him down. 
“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just basically emotionally abused one of my best friends.” 
“Hey, don’t you fucking dare saying I abused them in any way,” Seungcheol raised his voice at at younger boy, his emotions getting out of hand. “I know what I have done, and I’m going to make it right again,” he said, not exactly convinced himself. 
“So what, you think you'll buy them flowers, pout and make puppy eyes, and they'll forgive you?” he scoffed and crossed his arms, making him look bigger than he already was. 
“No, making puppy eyes is your thing, I’m not that cheap,” Seungcheol fired right back at him. 
With each exchange between Seungcheol and Mingyu the tension only escalated, the atmosphere becoming charged with a mix of anger, frustration, and hurt. Their tones harsh and cutting, both of them tried to defend their position. Sadness, and disappointment were evident on their faces, further fueling the intensity of the situation. 
“I messed up, alright? But you're acting like I hurt them on purpose-.” 
“Well, to us it looked like you wanted to-.” 
“Could you just stay the fuck away from my relationship and focus on your shitty love life?” 
The rest of the boys, who were skeptically watching what was going on, knew this wouldn’t end well. Mingyu might have been passive most of the time, letting the others walk over him and still not batting an eye, but when it comes to his friends and their well being, he wouldn’t just stand around and watch. 
Wonwoo who was standing by the mirrors slowly came up to Mingyu and patted his back. 
“There is no use Mingoo, you’re not helping here,” he said sternly. 
“Well, I have the right to be angry.” 
“No one said you didn’t, but let’s not add more fuel to the fire, okay?” 
Mingyu glared at Seungcheol for the final time, before turning around and walking out of the room. 
“I’m going to check up on him,” said Mingaho. 
As the tension evaporated the second Mingyu left, Seungcheol could feel his anger turn to sadness and powerlessness. Now not only has he hurt you, but also his friend, who was so dear to him. 
Seungcheol felt trapped, not knowing what to do next and feeling extremely mentally and emotionally drained. He sighed deeply with a blank stare, drained from all of his usual energy. 
With the silence still apparent, everyone parted ways to give Seungcheol some space. Only Jeonghan and Joshua stayed by his side, not knowing what to do. 
“What am I supposed to do now?” asked the oldest, with a tired voice. 
“We’re all here for you, Coups and you're not alone in this. Don’t worry about Mingyu for now, he’ll come around,” said Joshua. “Take a deep breath and try to think clearly about this.” 
“It's just that everything seems to be going wrong, and I feel like I have no control over it.”
“We know, but you should have just talked to them. Why didn’t you do it? Why did it have to come to this Coups?” asked Jeonghan. 
“I don’t know, I really don’t. I thought I was stronger than this, that it would pass and everything would be okay. I just didn’t want to be a burden to them.” 
“Well that didn’t end up too well,” said Joshua, laughing at Seungcheol’s pouting face. 
“Thank you for being here for me. I really need that right now.”
“Of course! That's what family is for. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re all so pissed at you right now,” said Jeonghan. 
“Yeah, for a second there I thought Mingyu was going to punch me or something,” chuckled Sungcheol. 
“I wish he did,” muttered Joshua, and walked away quickly before the oldest could respond. 
“I’m going to make this right,” thought Seungcheol. “No matter what it takes.” 
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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year ago
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Erik Destler x HaplessOperaHouseManager!Reader || Excerpt
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Plot: You've known about Erik for years- you even know about his home. You don't do anything about him, because... well you wouldn't want to be cruel and put him on the streets. But good god does he not make your kindness easy.
Here you get a stress nosebleed because of him and he takes a moment from the murder and the dramatics to help you out.
Warnings: Nosebleed.
Tagging: @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball , @miss_understood , and @thecourtofgraywaves .
You're just in the middle of yelling at him, chucking all your incident records down on top of his written music to demonstrate just how ridiculously thick the pile is because of his bi-regular murderous outbursts and calling the 'opera ghost' an absolute twat- when you feel a trickling under your nose, on your top lip.
You stop and touch your finger to it. When you bring your hand away and theirs blood, you groan. Aghhh! Of bloody course! Now you're getting nosebleeds!? Goddamni-
Erik emerges from where he was cooped up in a dark corner, hidden from you even in his little sewer home, and before you know it he's completely invaded your space; ignoring or perhaps not giving a damn about your personal comfort. Probably not giving a damn. "What- "
You feel his fingers search your pockets (completely indecent. You suppose you should have expected he would be that way though; coarse and brash. Living in the walls for years will do that to a man), and when he doesn't seem to find what he was looking for he sighs in frustration and then digs into his own coat pockets. Out comes a handkerchief and he twists and folds it quite gracefully (irritatingly gracefully) into a tissue, before forcefully holding your bloody fingers away from your body by the wrist and tipping your head back with his handkerchief-holding hand. "Hold still, Y/N... "
You do as you're told, but you also give him a frustrated, stern look. "Excuse me- " With an eyeroll, Erik carefully holds the fabric up to your nose: laser focused on the blood under nose even in the dim lighting from candles. "... What the hell are you doing?"
You should be more concerned about a man being this close to you- touching you so intimately with gentle but firm hands- but its Erik. So you're not too concerned, for whatever reason. Perhaps because he's not a man, he's an irritation, honestly.
You feel mildly comfortable with him like this. You could call it a work break- as if you got taken hostage by the opera ghost so whoops, you couldn't do any work for a nice block of time.
Yeah, he grabbed me and I couldn't move for 10 minutes. That paperwork got lost in the struggle, I'm afraid- Oh, no, I'm fine. Back to work I suppose!
"I think you might find this is helping... " He mutters, being in such close quarters with you that he doesn't have to speak at full volume, gently pressing the handkerchief against your nose.
"You caused this, you know??"
His eyes flash up from what he's doing, to yours, and you would be startled if you weren't so used to him. Him an his intensity all the time; sudden movements and deep eye contact. You've allowed him to stay in this opera house for years despite the trouble he causes you, because first of all you know he would never leave even if you tried to evict and him and second of all- where would he go, anyway?? You certainly wouldn't put a man out on the streets, even one like Erik.
He takes a deep breath, calming himself. "... I don't mean to hurt you, Y/N."
Rolling your eyes upwards, even as your expression softens the tiniest bit, you sigh. Yes, that's nice, but he knows very well his bullshit effects you so the sentiment is not particularly practical. And in your life, your work which is your life really, the practical is what really matters. "Well you do a good job of it."
"-I mean to hurt everyone else."
Sigh. Here we go. "Yes I know Erik."
"But I-..." Another deep breath. He's not looking you in the eye any longer, rather your nose and his handkerchief, but you're looking at him- and you see his jaw tighten; thinking hard and forcing himself to say things. Non-terrible things. "I regret it if this is truly my fault."
"... it is."
"Then I regret it."
"Do you?"
"Yes, I regret."
"Are you saying that you're sorry??... " You're mind is boggled at the thought of Erik apologising for his actions- but that is certainly how it sounds.
Immediately he tells you 'no, not at all'... before changing his mind a second later. "Perhaps, a small part, towards you. This. I don't intend to-... You've been reasonable, as far as people go. Quite-- reasonable. And I... I do not want my actions to have caused you harm."
You should let that be it. You should let him escape this without abandoning his strict sense of dignity- but you can't help yourself. "-so you're saying sorry??" You insist, tilting your head clockwise ever-so-slightly; curious like a cat.
A deep, frustrated sigh. "I don't believe I said that, but if that's how you wish to interpret my words... " He shrugs nonchalantly, trying to just focus on folding the handkerchief again and pressing a clean part to your nose again. "enjoy."
Rolling your eyes, you finally give a small smile. "Okay I will, Erik,.. "
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simphornies · 9 months ago
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Crazy idea/request can you do one where the Easily in dangeres Reader(Imp! Female) x Vox came back home injured and all of the 3 Vee's who is sitting in the couch react to Reader(Female) saying "I cross the road on my own for once! Yey...! Ouch..." With a lot of bruises on them and even have a cast on here right leg
Reader's Weakness: Doesn't/Can't cross roads alone
A/N: I really want a cookie...
Word count: 800 Warnings: none
Vox x Unlucky!Imp!F!Reader
“Y/N. I really think you should just let someone else grab it for you. You know we have plenty of staff to do our bidding, just say the word and they’ll be back before you know it.” Vox suggested, though it was evident that he insisted. “Or we can get it delivered!” You roll your eyes at him.
“Vox. I can go and get the food just fine by myself!” You insisted, “I’m literally born here and I feel like it’s been forever since I went out!” You crossed your arms. Your tail whipped side to side in irritation.
He sighed in frustration and glanced over to Velvette for help. “Look, darling.” She said, “The last time you went out with an escort they ended up getting so badly injured they couldn’t go to work for 6 months.”
You raised your arms up in defense, “It wasn’t my fault someone was speeding down the street!”
“They got hit by a car and they got their asses beat because you walked into a turf war.”
“...Well they should’ve made it more obvious they were in one.”
“There were explosions and gunshots that you failed to hear.” She groaned. “Look, it’s not like we’re keeping you here trapped. You can get plenty of fresh hell air on the sidewalk. “I want to go on a walk. Stretch my legs somewhere else that isn’t here.” You protested.
“Look! How about I just go with you, babe?” Vox suggested. You perked up and looked at him, beaming with delight.
“Really?” You squealed.
“Yes. But please stay by my side.” He squinted at you knowing that you had a tendency to run off somewhere.
“I promise!”
You did not keep your promise. The two of you weren’t even out for that long and Vox had already lost sight of you somehow in the bakery. The bakery isn't big at all but you were nowhere to be seen. He panicked and ran out to look for you, lo and behold you were making direct eye contact with the pet store across the street.
“Y/N! I told you to stay by my side!” He yelled out. His eyes widened when he realized you were going to cross the street. He zapped over behind you but he couldn’t reach you in time. He turned and there was a car going straight towards you as you, unaware as ever, kept walking.
.
“Y/N what the fuck.” Velvette flatly stated, staring in disbelief at the cast on your leg. You nervously laugh and scratch the back of your head.
“I’m fine!” You lied, “Just a minor injury, nothing big.”
“Babe.” Vox groaned, head in his hands. If he had hair it would be white from the amount of stress you constantly put him in.
“I crossed the road! On my own!” You gave a nervous smile, standing proud and tall with your hands on your hips. Your crutches fell and one of them hit the cast, making you wince. “Ow…Okay maybe I’m not as fine as I can be.” You sat down, “But I crossed the road on my own and survived!”
“You barely survived. If I didn’t fly you to the hospital, your leg would probably be gone by now.” Valentino lets out a puff of smoke, stress smoking at this point.
“Hey! I said I crossed the street and survived. I never said without injuries. I looked both ways this time and I promise you, on my soul, there weren’t any cars coming.” You huffed. “That car literally popped out of nowhere!”
“Y/N if you weren’t covered in bruises looking absolutely pathetic I would have punched you by now.” Velvette glared at you.
The room was silent but their judging eyes and stressed out expressions were loud enough for you to curl up into the best ball of shame you could curl up into. “Maybe I should have gotten it delivered…”
“You think?” Vox groaned, “If you were just some random imp working for me I would have killed you myself. You’re lucky I love you.” He sat next to you and held an ice pack on one of your bigger bruises.
“So…Cookies, anyone?” You awkwardly asked.
“If Vox didn’t care about you so damn much I would’ve killed you myself too.” She turned and headed straight for the door, “I’m going to get a fucking drink. If I find a single strand of white hair on my head, I’m coming straight for you.”
You laughed nervously as she slammed the door behind her and glanced at Valentino.
“Yeah I’m gonna get a fucking drink too.” Valentino lit another cigarette and walked out the door.
You looked at Vox with sad puppy eyes to which he sighs in response. “I’ll take a god damn cookie.”
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rosiestalez · 3 months ago
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Relief
ChrisEvans!Johnny Storm x afab!POC!reader
WC- 2,555
Summary- Y/n expresses her frustrations with school and her living situation so Johnny gets an idea to make her feel better the only way he really knows how!
CW: 18+, oral fem receiving, Johnny being a child sometimes, college struggles, mentions of drugs and alcohol, Chris Evan gif, not my gif :)!
A/n: MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN! I have been obsessed with Chris Evan’s Johnny Storm since I was a wee little girl. He ate in this role 🤌, so I hope I ate w this lil fic. He’s actually the reason why I have a type, and a white man’s whore! Also sorry for all the stressed college girl tropes, I’m indeed a stressed college girl!
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“Y/N come HERE!” Jonny yells from the top of the water tower. “Come on, it’s gorgeous up here!”, he adds.
“Hell no! I am NOT going up there. You need to get down before you get in trouble”, I yell back.
“Trouble? Dude that’s literally my middle name”, he calls back. “Just come on, imagine having sex up here under these beautiful stars, and in the most secluded place you and I know!”
“Johnny I’m not having sex with you on a water tower!”
“Ugh!” I hear him grown. “Please!”
“No.”
“Pretty please!”
“No!”
“Come on! We don’t even have to have sex!”
“Go ahead and yell our business louder for the whole campus to hear, why don’t you!”
“I wouldn’t be yelling if you were up here sweetheart!”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes, and sigh.
“Yes!” He pumps the air with his fist as I climb my way up the water tower.
I make it up there out of breath, these are moments when I regret vaping in high-school. “Why did you climb?”
“That’s a stupid question.” I glare at him.
“You’re right, my bad princess.”
“It is beautiful up here, you really can see everything”, I smile and take a deep breath closing my eyes. This is the first time I’ve felt peace in so long since I started University. I’ve been everywhere all over the place, always busy, and I never had a chance to find my peace. I thought I would find peace when I met Johnny Storm, but man was I wrong. Being with him has moments where I’m taking care of a child with unmedicated ADHD, and a child that’s never been told no. When moments like this occur where he shows me his things; I feel peace, but with us being busy with our final years of college we haven’t had time to do stuff like this.
“It is isn’t it! I love it up here. I missed being here, and I finally get to share it with the woman I lo-“, he pauses. I eyes shoot open, my head darting to him. “Look”, he points straight forward, but there’s nothing there.
“Wh-“, he pulls me into a kiss.
“Mm, this”, he pulls away from the kiss. I’m blushing, and he’s grinning like the most stupid idiot I have ever met. “Now can we have sex on top of a water tower?”, I roll my eyes and slap his chest lightly, but he just looks at me with those puppy dog eyes.
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please!”
“Johnny, I physically have not been in the mood to have sex in a month, what makes you think I’m going to want to do it even more on a water tower”, I feel the irritation filling my bones.
“Why?”, he asks, he sits down legs hanging over the edge.
He pulls me down to sit and I follow sighing, “I’m exhausted.” I say, I bow my head in defeat. “I’m so tired, all the time, and since this year started, I feel so tense all the time and I’m paranoid about everything!”, he looks at me eyes filled with concern. He wraps his arms around me pulling me in. “I miss feeling free like I did in high school, not worrying about finding a job or how many kids to a classroom, or how my roommates and I are gonna make rent when one of us got fired, one is student teaching, and the other blows all her money of weed and alcohol”, I add. He sits there, listening to me; I think this is all I needed, I just needed someone to listen to me. I sigh, “I’m just ready for college to be over.”
“I know baby girl, I’m sorry”, he hugs me deeply and rocking me. He pops up, “move in with me.”
“What?”
“Move in with me, you won’t have to pay rent, it’ll be me and you and sometimes a random stray dog that comes to the door for left overs.”
“Johnny, I can’t move in with you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yeah of course.”
“Okay so move in with me, you can decorate the apartment however you want, and it is closer to school than your place.”
“Fine”, I roll my eyes and lay my head on his shoulder, “can I spend the night there tonight?”, I ask.
“Of course.” He answers back through the a goofy smile.
He flies us back to his apartment, it was a little warm, but with the cool New York air it felt nice. When we arrived I was immediately taken aback by how clean it is compared to our last sleepover. “Wow, were you planning this?”
“Pfft, whaaaaat?”, he says sarcastically. He’s blushing, “I cleaned up a bit. It was starting to smell like football practice.”
“Oh I see”, I wink.
“Are you hungry? I have some left overs!”, he points to the kitchen while taking off his shoes and jacket.
“No thank you”, I follow his motions, but leaving my sweatshirt on because it is freezing in his apartment, “by the way we need to find a middle ground for a temperature in this apartment I cannot have my nipples freezing off anytime I enter.”
“Why? That’s my favorite part.”
“You’re disgusting”, I huff
“Okay get into the bed now.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“That’s definitely not how you woo a woman.”
“I’m not trying to woo you”, he grabs my hand pulling me into him, “I’m trying to relieve your stress, I can feel it in your ass.”
“Ugh”, I roll my eyes, “remove your hands from my butt please.”
“Fine”, he kisses my lips and pulls me toward his dark room. “Take off your clothes and lay down”, he points to the bed. “You can leave your sweatshirt on, but take your bra off please.”
At least he asks nicely, he leaves the room and I do what he asks, I lay down and try to get myself in the mood. He comes back with some clothes, “here you go!”
“Oh.”
“What? You said you didn’t want to have sex so I wanted to get you some pajamas!” he cheers.
“Baby, this is underwear and a sweatshirt”, I point.
“Yeah, but they’re mine.”
“You’re adorable”, I smile grabbing the folded clothes from his hand. “You’re also a huge tease, I was preparing myself”, I add.
He chuckles, “no baby, I just respect you, would you like a bath and some popcorn?”, I nod. “Great because I already have one running and I have the iPad and bath tray set up for you”, he smiles like a dork.
“You did plan this!”, I gasp.
“Yes my dear I did, this whole night was planned, I could tell you weren’t okay, I really wanted you to talk to me so I can better understand how to approach your situation”, he smiles.
“Damn it Storm, I think I love you”, I smile.
“You think, or you know?”, he asks me.
“I know Johnny, I know I love you!”
“Yep that’s what I thought, beyatch!” He taps my head and laughs like a child, I knew this sweet moment wouldn’t last too long, he quite literally is the definition of ‘playing to much’.
“Okay Johnny”, I chuckle rolling my eyes and make my way to the en suite bathroom. He wasn’t lying my favorite movie was waiting for me to press play , the bathroom was warm from the bath water steam, it smelled like vanilla and lavender, and the only lights shining were from the vanilla scented candles. My heart practically melts out my chest. I take a deep inhale and exhale slowly and stripping the rest of my clothes to dip into the warm bath. I slip my curls into a bun pulling some stragglers out to frame my face. I lean back and press play on the movie letting the warm water swaddle my chilled body.
A few minutes later a half naked Johnny walks in with popcorn and an extra towel. “I’m gonna shower!”, he states pointing to the separate shower in the corner.
“Mmm”, I hum with my eyes close.
“Do you drink wine? I don’t remember.”, he asks stilling down to his underwear.
“Yeah”, I say calmly, I hear him pouring a glass and a clink of it being set down on my tray next to the popcorn and iPad. I grab the glass and take a sip, gosh I love a good moscato. “Thank you baby!”, I sigh relaxing once again.
“My pleasure.” I hear the shower starting and Johnny steps in.
After about twenty minutes, he’s out and sitting next to me on the edge of the bath, a white towel wrapped around his waist. He’s stairing at me, I can feel it through my closed eyes. I can’t help, but smile at the way this man is enamored by me.
“Why are you stairing at me?”, I ask opening my eyes.
“You look beautiful”, he remarks.
“Well thank you”, I respond, “do you wanna join me?”
“Nah, it’s almost time to get out”, his gaze lowers down from my face to my exposed breasts that are poking out from the water. I roll my eyes, but my gaze stops at the thing growing in between his legs. He grabs my chin pulling my head to look at his face, he smirks, “you like what you see?”
“Uh-w-e-y- uh”, I stumble.
“That’s okay, I like what is see”, he speaks lowly his usual bright blues turning into a dark navy. “It’s time to get out, you look very well relaxed.”
“I-okay”, words are stumbling from my mouth. I slowly stand up from the bath, stepping over the edge and walking into the towel Johnny is holding open for me. He wraps it around me, kissing my neck sending shivers down my spine.
He kisses my lips and walks us back into the room not pulling away from the deep kiss. He picks me up, hands supporting me on my ass. He grips firmly and squeezing gently, I moan into the kiss. He dips down onto the bed my legs still wrapped around his waist.
The kiss gets deeper, he slips his tongue into my mouth and his hands begin to travel all over my body, feeling every inch. He unwraps the towel from my body exposing my naked body to the cold air. He removes his lips from mine and trails kisses down my neck, collar bone and to my erect nipples. He sucks on my right nipple, my back arches into his hard cock, he swirls it with his tongue, and bites it softly causing a moan to escape. He smirks looking up at me, “you like that?”, I nod. “That’s my good girl”, he moves to the other one doing the same thing before trailing kisses down my stomach onto my hip bones.
He spreads my thighs slightly so his had and shoulders can fit between them, he leaves kisses and bite marks all over the inside of my thighs. “S’pretty”, he whispers in between kisses. He pauses, “let me put some sweatpants on”, he stands up walking over the the stack of clothes on the dresser. He slides on a pair of charcoal sweats making his bulge pop more. He saunters back over reclaiming his spot in between my legs.
“This is all about you, take however long you need to. I just want you to relax”, he looks up at me. I nod, grabbing a pillow to support my neck.
He kisses my lips and parts them slightly with his index finger. He rubs tiny circles in my plump clit, I moan quietly, “you can be a little louder baby, all the neighbors are gone”, he adds, “I like hearing you baby girl you always sounds so pretty.” He dips his head down, his tongue replaces his fingers, he swirls it softly.
Gosh it feels so good, he starts doing a sucking motion with his lips taking my whole clit into his mouth, his tongue softly licking me. My hands travel to his blond hair, I grip it as hard as I can as a way of saying ‘keep going’.
His tongue flicks pooling waves of pleasure through my body, he doesn’t speed up he doesn’t slow down, he keeps going at the same smooth pace. He not only fucks me good, but he really does know how to use is mouth for good. “O-oh m-my-“, I moan loudly.
“That’s my good girl”, he lifts his head up, but I immediately push it back down. His fingers that were gripping my thigh are being dipped into my dripping hole. He pumps them gently, pressing them upwards pressing my sensitive spot, my back arches to him even more. He speeds up his fingers, but keeping his mouth at the same speed, just the way I like it.
As quickly as my thoughts were racing earlier, they finally slowed own allowing me to focus on the sensation of a man making me feel good, and worshiping my body. The feeling of true pleasure and peace fill my body. “Baby please don’t stop.”
He keeps going at the same mind altering pace. My eyes roll to the back of my head, my back arching more, and wild shit falling from my tongue; I’m so close, I feel a knot in my stomach. My walls clench around his fingers, my pussy starts throbbing. I let go, all the stress, a mind blowing orgasm, I let it all go all over his fingers and I moan his name, locking my legs around him as I ride out my well earned orgasm.
“That’s it baby, you did so good”, he moves away from my pussy. I let out a hazy smile finally feeling relaxed.
“Thank you Johnny, I needed that.”
“I know”, he gleams. He stands up grabbing my towel and wiping off my cum from his fingers and my pussy. He tosses the towel into the pile in the bathroom handing me the clothes he laid out for me earlier. He helps get me dressed and lays down on the bed.
“Don’t you wanna…?”, as ask before unmaking my side of the bed.
“No I’m not that self absorbed, I’ll just wake you up”, he responds, I just shake my head laying down and cuddling into his side. “We can go ahead and start moving in some of your things tomorrow morning when we get up and around, does that sound good?”, I nod, he smiles at me pulling me closer into him. “I am happy you’re here.”
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darsynia · 2 years ago
Text
Hand(s) Off | Ch 5: Chemistry
(Steve Rogers/f!Reader sex pollen-esque multichapter)
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gif by @chrisevansedits
STORY MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT
Summary: You and Steve have to navigate the aftermath of the overexposure to Mistress, and something tells you that your mood swings and inability to self-satisfy is directly related to the drug...
Length | Warnings: 3,880 | sexual situations MINORS DNI
Fill: Adoptable ‘Pheremones’ from @allcapsbingo
Tags (please request!): @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan @brooke0297 @caplanreads @mrsevans90 @hails270105 @venusfalling
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Excerpt:
He’s wearing jeans that fit him like a second skin, a tight gray tee, and an unbuttoned long-sleeve blue flannel, which feels distinctly unfair. Somehow he looks every bit as handsome wearing this casual get-up as he had the night before in his suit pants and blue jacket. 
“You, uh--” He sounds upset, and you glance up. “Bruce says we need to be looking more at each other than not,” Steve offers with a wince.
“Right. Twist my arm, right?” you joke.
His brows furrow. “If you’re--”
“Steve! You’re handsome as hell. Not a hardship, is my point,” you tell him.
“Ah,” he says in response, and oh. There’s a bit of joy there, not quite pride, but close. If you had to name it, you’d say Steve is deeply pleased, and yep, that’s a jump in arousal, there. “Right back at ya,” he says, almost too quiet to hear it.
“They’re going to have to burn those forms,” you muse aloud.
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Chemistry
You wake up the morning after your 1940’s performance feeling more refreshed than you have for weeks. The constant, low-level irritation you’ve had to learn to live with is not entirely gone, but it’s lessened, and for that you’re very grateful.
The plan is to meet Bucky for… something, but he hasn’t made clear what. You opt for a skirt to swish around your legs, voluminous but not bulky. Restrictive or tight clothing has been a no-go lately, making you feel anxious and closed-in at worst and kind of turned on at best. It’s another data point in the line of ‘things that are different since Mistress,’ but you don’t really know what to make of them all. The worst out of everything is your mood, but is that worsened by your inability to come, or is it an actual after-effect?
When you get downstairs after getting Bucky’s text, you’re surprised when he opens the door of a taxi for you. The two of you usually walk everywhere.
“Where we going?” you ask.
“It’s a surprise.” He doesn’t elaborate, instead choosing to deflect in the most unfair way possible: “Steve liked the show last night.”
You keep your expression tightly controlled, but your anxious tone gives you away. “You could have warned me about that! I’m glad he enjoyed it, but--”
“I didn’t plan all that far ahead, okay? I did it because he said yes. To the thing you asked me about.”
Embarrassment blooms from your chest and across your body, and you dart your eyes over to the taxi driver. There’s no way he can know the context, but holding a conversation about impossible orgasms with Bucky had been embarrassing enough, so alluding to it around a stranger is pretty stressful.
“Uh, thank you, then.” Your mind skips past the awkwardness to the substance of the comment, and you slump back into your seat. “That means it’s definitely related.”
“Yeah.” 
He looks out the window, and you smile down at your lap. Bucky isn’t the kind of person to smoothe over awkward things with platitudes (which often makes them worse). If he had, you’d never have had the courage to ask about Steve in the first place. You’d probably have rather withered away and died of sexual frustration instead. Not that dying isn’t still on the table.
“You uh, probably should go talk to Dr. Banner,” Bucky says, his voice overloud and uncomfortable. “He’s been running tests on Steve, thanks to his lousy mood and the--” He makes a gesture, but you deliberately look at his face, not his hands.
“He’s been having problems with that too?”
Bucky’s is the kind of expression that anyone who’s ever lived with a grumpy roommate would instantly recognize.
“Yeah, okay,” you sigh, pulling your phone from your pocket. “Give me some kind of contact number?”
The taxi stops, and he points out the window with his thumb. “How about instead, we just do it right now?”
The vehicle is stopped in front of the tower. The taxi driver is already grousing, so as the two of you get out, you hiss at your best friend, “I can't believe you set me up! I didn’t mean now! I need more mental fortitude! Banner’s an Avenger! He knows Steve personally!”
“So do I!” Bucky says, affronted.
The taxi drives off as you glare at each other, and then he sticks his left elbow out like a frustrated chaperone. It’s manipulative in a really brilliant way, because he trusts you with the knowledge that there’s a metal weapon of war under all that fabric. You swallow your pride and tuck your hand in the nook he’s created for you, and he walks you inside.
“I thought you usually went through the side door?” you ask quietly as the two of you wait in the short security line.
“I didn’t want you to have time to change your mind.” Buck grins at you, right as the two of you are guided past the checkpoint and toward the bank of elevators.
“You’re really unbelievable-- and the worst part is, you know it!”
He just settles against the back wall of the elevator and looks smug. It’s midday, so the others who file into the elevator car with the two of you are all in business wear, and you feel intensely out of place in your casual skirt and blouse. Bucky, who is out of place practically anywhere, never manages to look anything but cool.
You settle against the wall beside him, but you must look nervous, because he bumps your shoulder with his as some of the office workers from the lower floors file out. Eventually, you’re the only two left, and Bucky speaks aloud asking to be taken to the floor where Banner’s lab is.
Shall I inform Dr. Banner of your impending arrival? the AI asks drily.
“What’s the fun in that?”
The rest of the trip is short. A few seconds after the two of you step out, Bucky stops you with a hand, his lips twisting apologetically.
“I’m gonna head to the apartment. This is private, and I want to respect that-- but you didn’t volunteer for this whole mess, so if you need an advocate, some of that fortitude you mentioned, just text me.”
You’re touched by this unexpected speech, but you also feel kind of adrift; this wasn’t what you’d expected your day to be like. There’s no chance to respond though, because Bucky ducks back into the elevator after gesturing toward the correct lab.
A surprised-looking man with salt and pepper curls opens the door to your knock, so you blurt out your name, explaining that Bucky Barnes had suggested you drop by.
“Oh! Oh, that’s great, come in, come in,” the man says, offering his hand to shake. “Bruce Banner. I hope Barnes passed on my sincere regrets about what happened?”
He didn’t (you hadn’t wanted to talk about it at all until you’d realized you had to ask about The Issue), so you don’t know what to say. Luckily, Banner has already hurried off to bring over a second chair beside the lab table he’s clearly been using as a desk. 
“Have a seat. I should warn you, I’ve already got--”
He breaks off as a woman in a lab coat walks over with purpose. “All blood tests are completed.” They continue talking, but the voice of Steve Rogers behind you derails your attention.
“Dee?”
You spin around in shock. “I’m sorry, I had no idea you’d be here! Not that I would, of course, but Bucky-- Oh, my God,” you realize aloud. “Did you… tell him you were coming to the lab today?”
“No, I haven’t seen him since last night.”
“Actually, this is good,” Banner says, walking over to stand between the two of you with a placating hand held toward each. “I have some theories I’d love to expand on with a few blood and proximity tests. If you’re willing, of course.”
Proximity. You’d noticed last night that being in the same large room as Steve Rogers had mitigated some of the lesser symptoms you haven’t been brave enough to mention to anybody. The same thing is happening now, with the added complication of a really bizarre desire to move closer to him. Somewhere there’s a magnetism joke just begging to be told, but not by you.
“Is this scientific curiosity, or will it help figure out how to regulate this stuff?” Steve asks.
“My own exposure took care of the curiosity part,” Banner says, rubbing a knuckle against the side of his cheek.
“Wow, Bruce, I guess I figured the Hulk’s biology would have cleared that out for you,” Steve says, his expression a mask of concern. “At least you had more data for a solo expos--” He breaks off, embarrassment flushing his face as he looks over with dawning horror at the other occupant of the room.
“No worries, I was whisked home to my husband. We were happy to be part of the ‘control’ group,” the woman in the lab coat says with a bright smile.
“In the interests of reassurance, I’ll tell you I’m in a relationship, and that person and I, ah, handled things,” Banner says, occupying himself by studiously cleaning his glasses. “So yes, there’s data, both from the mitigation of my healing factor as well as the reactions of a wholly un-exposed partner.”
“It’s not often that I get to be a hero, but I think I’ll step in and ask if you’d be willing to give some blood while these two awkward it out? Doctor Lynette Lyonne, nice to meet you.”
You smile gratefully at Dr. Lyonne and nod. She seems like exactly the sort of down-to-Earth person to keep Banner focused.
“That’s a mouthful! I feel like if my dad met you, he’d be asking you if your parents had a limited budget for letters when you were born,” you say as you sit in the chair Dr. Lyonne indicates.
“Ooh, I haven’t heard that one in six months!”
You’re pretty sure the tourniquet that Dr. Lyonne puts on after that is the regular tightness, but you hold very still and keep things polite, just in case.
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Dr. Lyonne leaves you alone in that side room after the blood test for a half hour , explaining that they need to keep you and Steve separated as they come up with some proximity tests to perform. You get it: they want to gauge various reactions between the two of you, but the anxiety you feel about being shoved into yet another situation beyond your control is almost making you sick.
Finally, the door opens and Banner ushers you out and down the hall to a different room. There’s a second, smaller space inside it made up of transparent walls and a vinyl ‘roof’ thing above it, and Steve Rogers is standing in there.
“We’ve rigged the room with all kinds of monitors, and if you are okay with it, I’d like to put some heart monitors and such on you. Steve is already rigged up with a microphone in case I need to tell you two anything, but I won’t be able to hear anything the two of you say. Steve?” Banner calls out, turning around and making some gesture you can’t see. In response, Steve lifts his shirt, showing that he does indeed have a series of medical patches connected to wires placed in various places on his splendid chest.
“Dr. Banner, you’re contaminating our results!” Dr. Lyonne objects, shoving a file folder over to block your view. “I guarantee that her heart rate just went up.”
“Shit, I didn’t think of that. Uhh…”
Grabbing Banner’s lapel mic, Dr. Lyonne leans into it and says, “Banner and Rogers, cover your eyes!” She grabs the patches and comes over. With her help, you unbutton your blouse and the two of you place them in record time. Under her breath, the doctor mutters, “Blessed with two of the most ethical red-blooded men on the planet, thank fuck…”
Two minutes later you’re closing the door of the half-room-sized enclosure they’d constructed, standing closer to Steve Rogers than you’d been since you’d met, nearly three weeks ago.
“Hi,” he says, clearly the most awkward person in the building. It’s absurdly charming.
“Hi,” you whisper back.
You’re both holding a clipboard with a pencil, and Steve nods at the one in your hand. “We’re supposed to fill out our initial reactions.”
There are two chairs placed twelve feet away but facing each other. Instead of sitting down, you plant a foot on the closest one and brace the clipboard on your knee. The questions are… a bit much, asking what your arousal level is (which is not zero, but you try having a zero arousal level around a man who can fuck like that) , how calm you’ve been in the last week, last twenty-four hours, and last hour before coming in the lab, stuff like that. They only take a minute or two to fill out, and when you’re done, you realize that there’s a stack of questions underneath that seem to be directed toward some kind of escalation.
Just what are they about to ask the two of you to do??
“I think they should have fitted you with the earpiece,” Steve says. You straighten up to see that he’s walking to the middle of the room. “They want us to stand six feet apart. Bruce? I don’t want to tell her what to do, okay? That’s--” Steve breaks off and frowns. “Yeah, I understand that, but--” Another pause, and then he sighs. “Okay.” To you, in the most gentle voice you’ve ever heard, Steve says, “There’s no time to grab another one that will work. Please forgive me if anything I say sounds close to-- Inappropriate. I’m not ordering you around. You have every right to say no.”
“This is to help people who might get stuck in a similar situation, right?” you ask, dragging the chair over so you can stand the requested distance away without having to walk over to retrieve it for clipboard-steadying. He nods. “Then it’s worth a little discomfort.”
In truth, the questions on the clipboard are perceptive, because this is the most comfortable you’ve felt in weeks. There’s something calming, something wonderful about being close to Steve. It’s as if you’d been wound more and more tightly the past few weeks, and finally, finally, you can relax. You’re certain it’s related to the drug, and you’re a bit worried about how much of yourself you’re going to put on display when you’re forced to admit that.
The two of you stand looking anywhere but each other, and after a few minutes of darting your eyes over to Steve and back to the floor, he says, “Clipboard time.”
You’re glad to have something to focus on other than whether you should be stealing glances of Captain America-- but then you start writing down your answers to the questions.
How much has your arousal level risen since the previous series of questions? 5%
How much has your comfort level risen or fallen since the previous series of questions? Risen 10%
Privately, you feel like that one is going to have bad data, because what’s 10% of ‘almost as comfortable around another person as I could be, despite the entire circumstances of our acquaintance?’
Do you feel an urge or compulsion to engage in sexual activity? Not really?
“Bruce, these questions!” Steve chokes out. He listens for a few seconds, and then says to you, “He says, and I quote, ‘We’re flying by the seat of our pants, here.’ No kidding!” Nodding as though he’d just heard something else in his earpiece, he then says, “Banner’s asking us to stand a foot apart now. And Dr. Lyonne wants me to tell you they printed a bunch of cards, so there are way more than they need.”
You drag your chair again, nodding. Given that there are something like twenty pages in the stack, you’re mollified. A little. Shit. The arousal thing is… definitely happening. A thought occurs to you, and you’re pretty sure you have an obligation to mention it.
Double shit.
“All right, can Banner hear me at all?” you say cautiously, seeking the mental fortitude you’d mentioned to Bucky. At Steve’s negative response, you nod. “Ok, one more round and then maybe they’ll ask us to stand close enough for that.”
Steve swallows hard. Both of you will clearly have different answers to the next set of questions.
“A little closer,” he whispers to you. 
You startle slightly before moving toward him. It feels much closer than a foot, because there’s almost nowhere to look but Steve. He’s wearing jeans that fit him like a second skin, a tight gray tee, and an unbuttoned long-sleeve blue flannel, which feels distinctly unfair. Somehow he looks every bit as handsome wearing this casual get-up as he had the night before in his suit pants and blue jacket. 
“You, uh--” He sounds upset, and you glance up. “Bruce says we need to be looking more at each other than not,” Steve offers with a wince.
“Right. Twist my arm, right?” you joke.
His brows furrow. “If you’re--”
“Steve! You’re handsome as hell. Not a hardship, is my point,” you tell him.
“Ah,” he says in response, and oh. There’s a bit of joy there, not quite pride, but close. If you had to name it, you’d say Steve is deeply pleased, and yep, that’s a jump in arousal, there. “Right back at ya,” he says, almost too quiet to hear it.
“They’re going to have to burn those forms,” you muse aloud. “In fact, c’mere.” 
With a bravery borne out of guilt at ruining the findings, you walk right up to Steve and tug at his collar. He doesn’t resist, but he rests a hand on your bare lower arm. It feels as much of a comfort as a warning, and in the strangest way, it reinforces your need to call a halt to this farce.
“Bruce?” you say, lifting up to speak as closely to Steve’s earpiece as you can. Using Banner’s first name is deliberate, a hint at urgency you hope he’ll heed.
“He can hear you,” Steve murmurs. His mouth is close to your ear, and fuck, you’ve made a serious tactical mistake.
“Steve showed up to the restaurant last night,” you say as clearly as you can, given how fully immersed you are in everything Steve Rogers right now. He smells good, of soap and a hint of cologne or shaving cream, and he’s right there, gorgeous and obviously as affected as you are. His grip on your arm is just this side of painful, but you doubt he even realizes. “There’s--” you stop and clear your throat, because that one word was dangerously breathy. Steve’s clenched jaw and tightened grip sends your heart racing.
“The data is corrupted, she’s saying,” Steve breaks in. “Just mark down a hundred percent increase on everything and give us some privacy, will you?”
This is as much permission to push off and away from him as you need. It takes him a second to let go-- the look you exchange as he realizes this is electric.
“Bruce, do it.” The undercurrent of angry urgency in Steve’s tone has you scrambling at the door of your enclosure, and to hell with the clipboard and everything else.
You catch a glimpse of Banner and Lyonne leaving as you rush over to the window and press your overwarm hands to the glass, pulling in huge breaths like you’ve just run a marathon. Nearby footsteps on the tiled floor signal that Steve’s also left the quarantined testing zone.
“I’m--” You stop yourself. “I was going to say ‘I’m sorry,’ but I’m not. The data was already hopelessly corrupted.”
“Yeah,” he says.
“God, this is so screwed up. Do you know, this is the best I’ve felt in weeks?”
“You should be angry with me.”
“Why? Because I got confused, got lost in your apartment and put us in this position? Don’t be absurd.”
“I broke protocol,” Steve says in a hoarse voice. You turn around to see him shaking his head, his jaw set in a miserable line. “I was supposed to head to a quarantine room to get checked out. We get cleared and then we leave. Those rules are set up to prevent--”
You're not having it. “Does it help at all? To feel bad about it?”
“Does it help you to blame yourself?” Steve asks, walking forward, forcing you to listen by sheer command authority.
“Stop being a fucking leader, Steve, and just be a man, would you?” you snap, furious to incandescence that he’s drawing on his Cap persona at a time like this.
“Fine!” he thunders, and reaches out, catching your waist in one large hand as his momentum crashes the two of you into the wall by the window. You’re pinned there, both by his hips and his desperate expression, but Steve gathers the last scraps of his will, holding his hand up and away from where he’d been about to touch you, and fisting it. He closes his eyes tightly and says, “This isn’t me, I’m not--”
“So let’s figure out how to be ourselves and still live through this, yeah?” you say, moving to tug his fist over so you can kiss his knuckles. The raw contact is a pale shade of your previous ferocity under Mistress, but it’s still powerfully erotic. Steve lets out a tiny noise, but you don’t know him well enough to guess whether it’s a sound of distress or lust.
Then his eyes pop open and you suck in a breath at the intensity in his gaze. He’s nodding, turning the hand you’re clutching so he can slide it along your cheek and around to cup the back of your head.
“May I?” he breathes. He’s trembling. So are you.
“Please,” you whisper-- and Steve surges forward, tilting his head to capture your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Everything about this moment is overwhelming, and you can do nothing but feel. You cling to his flannel, caught up in the exquisite sweetness of his kiss, the way he’s dominating you with his body but drawing you out and teasing you with his tongue. The tension of the past weeks melt away with the heat of Steve’s hand holding you still for him, each sizzling brush of his lips against yours burning through every question of propriety.
His other hand falls to your hips, gathering the fabric of your skirt in a needy fist like he needs more of an anchor than the touch of his lips against yours. The rock of Steve’s hips against you is ruinous, incendiary, delightful, destructive. Inside you, a furnace-dam breaks, unleashing a firestorm of pleasure that rushes straight to your core.
“Oh!” you gasp, breaking the kiss as you recognize what’s about to happen. “Oh, God, oh, thank God,” you babble, even as Steve sucks a frantic kiss to your neck. “Are you --?” you manage to ask.
His incoherent noises of assent against your neck sound just as broken and relieved as yours. You clutch at any part of Steve you can reach as he hitches your leg up to angle himself just right to rut against you. Remembering that he’d needed a personal connection last time, you coax him back into a deep, desperate kiss with a gentle caress through his hair.
Steve pulls back after a few seconds and presses his forehead against yours. Something inside you drags your eyes open, and as soon as you make eye contact, your orgasm sweeps through you, arching your back and drawing a low, satisfied moan from your throat.
“Yes,” Steve crows, and his hips thrust against you multiple times in rapid succession as he is taken by a release of his own. His free hand comes up to cup your face as he pants for breath, but it’s the way Steve holds your gaze through it all that completely strips your soul bare.
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Next chapter...
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bookishtheaterlover7 · 1 year ago
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/fukyourmind/729723043722690560?source=share
Archangel ari watching his demon lovers and they wanna let him relive his stress after dealing with an irritating soul
Irritating soul is Mr freezy
We diving down into Ari's spicy side now! Let's do this, An🫶n!
Side bar, this happens sometime after, Lloyd and Ari are allowed to marry, Y/N. Bunch of drama before this happens, but I won't spoil it for y'all.
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The thing with Ari is that sometimes, he's tightly wound... It's why Lloyd loves to mess with Ari, but not to the point of pissing off both him and Y/N (he made that mistake once, and let's just say blue balls weren't the only problem he had). But sometimes, his archangel duties really get to him, and the souls he deals with really grinds his gears.
His current charge is Robert Pronge, a real pain in his ass. The guy was a real piece of work, who somehow kept Ari on edge, and stressed. Even worse, is when he's enjoying a day in with the people he loves most in the world, and is grinding against Y/N's barely covered backside, as he and Lloyd caress, kiss and suck every inch they can reach. And he gets called away to deal with the little fucker.
"God... Not now..." Ari groaned against Y/N's neck. Desperately burrowing his face into the crook of it, while squeezing her lace covered mounds.
"What's wrong, Sunshine? Did our foreplay make you cream your pants too early?" Lloyd smirked, mischievously smiling at Ari.
"God, I wish!" Ari sighed. Slowly removing himself from the sandwich, with a few light kisses to his lovers.
"I'm being called away..."
"No! Ari, you aren't supposed to even have any form of work today..." Y/N pouted turning around in Lloyd's arms to face the archangel, as the top demon resumed his delicious torture.
"I know... But I'm needed, and I can't disobey Them. That's part of the conditions set, when they agreed to let me keep my powers and both of you..." Ari said, zipping up his jeans, and fixing his navy blue buttoned shirt.
"You sure you have to go, Levinson? Cause it'll be worth it..." Lloyd teased, cupping the apex of Y/N's thighs, making her release a borderline pornographic moan.
"Yes. I'm sure. I don't want to, but I have to if I'm to keep the possibility of our future." Ari sighed, cupping Y/N's face and kissing her deeply, and pecking Lloyd's cheek, as he was nibbling Y/N's ear.
"Carry on without me. I'll be back before you know it..."
~
"Jesus Christ, Freezy! I'm supposed to be on fucking vacation with my loves. And you just had to fucking make an escape attempt today?!" Ari exclaimed, definitely not happy with his Charge. The ethereal being was sexually frustrated and disappointed that he's missing out on vacation sex and aftercare, and so he's taking it out on the menace to his personal life.
"Oh, please. All you archangels ever do is stand around like idiots waiting for the next order. You have nothing more important to do, but be my little bitch of the afterlife." Freezy cackled.
"I'm not just an archangel now! I am married to two of the best creatures on Earth. And we will have a family, and no one, especially not some pathetic scum of the Earth will stop me from enjoying the life I have with them." Ari cried, using his archangel blade to send Freezy back to hell where he belongs.
With that done, Ari dusted the dirt and ash off of his suit, opened his wings, and flew back to their new French vacation home. Flying into the wide open patio doors leading to the balcony attached to their bedroom.
"Y/N! Baby Angel? Lloyd?" He called wondering where they could be?" He wondered. Walking through the home until he heard Y/N beckoning.
"Ari! We've got something for you..." She sang. Ari chuckled, and amusedly shook his head before following the sound of his girl's voice.
The scene before him stopped him in his tracks, the living room, with a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, was covered in rose petals, Y/N's horny playlist was playing, the lights were set low to create ambiance, and in the center of it all, his succubus wife dressed in the most sinful of the lingeries he had given her as a gift, sitting on a golden chair, one hand in her hair, the other, slowly and teasingly inching down her thigh towards her center.
"We've been waiting for you, my sweet Angel." Y/N sighed. Her voice hitching up a little as she started to slowly, achingly play with herself.
"We?" Ari asked, before being dragged down to an identical chair directly across from Y/N.
"We, Pigeon. Took you long enough! Our girl has been aching to do this all day..." Lloyd laughed, strutting towards their succubus, and patting the back of her head, giving her lips a soft peck, and unlatching the strappy bra, that was covering he luscious breasts, and giving them each a teasing squeeze.
"You left in such... A hurry... Ah... I knew you'd need release..." Y/N sighed. The stimulation making her lose her breath.
"And so, our clever girl came up with the idea of giving you a show. Working you up to pound her sweet pussy, like there's no tomorrow..." Lloyd finished for her, pulling her up to her feet and bending her over the chair. Exposing her plump ass to Ari, who was slowly pumping himself, before slapping it. Causing Y/N to squeal and tense up, both hands desperately clutching the back of the chair.
"And by the looks of things... I think you'd like the idea..." Lloyd said with finality. Grabbing Y/N, and getting on his knees in front of her, roughly pulling her panties down, and sucking and kissing marks all over her ass, before diving down to drink her seemingly endless flow of juices. Allowing Ari to watch it all unfold, before getting a taste.
~
Alright you, horny fucks 😆 this is the weirdest way to start it but, eh, it's a process.
🎉Welcome to the start of my Hundred Follower Celebration!!!🎉
Over the next few days, my asks are open for any questions about me or my writings, or even about celeb tea. And while I will answer your asks. I will also be uploading a handful of fics, so stay tuned and let's celebrate!
Because y'all are the best for allowing and helping me to reach this many followers, when a few months ago, I had zero. I'm saying thank you, from the bottom of my heart. And I look forward to growing even more with you all ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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carnalhaus · 7 months ago
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if you STILL find yourself wondering why exactly sledge is so insanely fixated on praline, here u go :p
the whole reason sledge exists as a character is to show the impact praline can have on people. he’s actually not the only character used for this purpose, he just happens to be the only one still presently with her.
it’s worth mentioning that because of this, sledge has nothing else going on in his life. he had a completely normal youth with absolutely nothing traumatizing or strange. and then he met praline, and i think that’s when you really have to put yourself in his position. she quite literally plagues his daily life, he’s constantly responding to calls about this girl, she is the root of everything stressing him out. she’s doing crazy shit, cutting her face open, ripping her trailer apart (in the most literal sense), pulling knives on people, it’s the kind of thing that stays stuck in your mind when it’s the only interesting thing you’ve experienced in your mundane life.
he is very afraid of her because he doesn’t understand her or why she does what she does. he sees her throw herself into these dangerous situations without a care in the world and it’s mind boggling. it’s like watching a deer stare at the headlights. she can save herself, but she doesn’t, and he doesn’t understand. throughout the years that quite literally kept him up at night.
when she dies, the reason he becomes so fixated on it is because of guilt. he ends up realizing how much he failed her when he meets enid and actually *talks* to her, something he never did with praline, and figures out that these girls are just suffering. they were both beyond frustrating and hard to understand, yes, but all they needed was for someone to look at them and listen. he tries repairing this with enid, doing it right this time and actually trying to offer her support outside of her family that doesn’t care for her. hell, he even defends what she does sometimes because he’s so desperate to understand and protect her like he failed to protect praline. enid dying was his worst fear come true, and just a few months later, praline is killed too. both of those are enough to cement in his mind that he has amounted to absolutely nothing in his life. he goes off the rails from carrying the responsibility of two lives, two girls that looked to him for protection, and he didn’t protect them from jack shit.
keep in mind stuff like this isn’t really uncommon, in a sense. i went to an alternative school where a majority of the students there had horrible behavioral issues sparked by abusive homes, witnessing murders, involvement in gang activity, the foster system, etc etc. i even found myself getting irritated with certain people sometimes because no matter how hard you tried to understand why they did what they did, it just wouldn’t make sense, they wouldn’t listen. to put it in perspective, praline is exactly like these kids. she’s frustrating to the point where all you want to do is give up on her because she’s a lost cause. that’s what sledge did, that’s what most people do to kids like this.
he views her as a jesus christ figure because above all else, she quite literally “came back.” he ruined his life over guilt, and now he has to live with the fact that she’s alive, here, in front of him, staring at him, and he can’t go back and undo anything. he can’t get his job back, he can’t go back home, he can’t show his face anywhere, and it’s all because of her. he really has no other choice at this point but to stay with her, stat, and enid, because what else is he good for ? absolutely nothing. finding her was probably the only influential thing he’s ever amounted to in his boring miserable life. he’s dedicated to them because there is genuinely nothing else he’s useful for in the world.
it’s still mind boggling to him that she’s still alive, again put yourself in his position. that trailer had the bodies of six girls in it, all killed and torn apart, there is no logical way that she should’ve been able to get away that night. he was hanging onto a delusion that he wasn’t even fully sure he believed in because it was so outrageous, and it turned out to be true.
meanwhile, praline doesn’t think about him much. he’s not any different from other people in her life, ignoring her, doubting her, turning a blind eye. but there’s something deep down, in her 16 year old self way down there, that wants to keep him here. maybe not consciously, but she still holds onto the silly fantasy that maybe he actually can help her one day. but i think she knows that time has already long passed and now he’s just hanging around like a useless ghost repeating the motions from way back when. she can still wish he did something though.
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natasha-in-space · 1 year ago
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Left To Wonder
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VAE!Ray/cmc Natasha Stakh;
A glimpse into the aftermath of Ray's first unfortunate awakening, where Natasha and Seven are left to pick up the pieces. A bitter truth about his relationship with his twin is a burden too heavy to carry, and the redheaded hacker is left torn and angry by the end of it. At the same time, Natasha is battling her own demons, finding herself overwhelmed by all the implications of their situation, once her friend wakes up again.
Ch.1, Ch. 2 (you are here!)
-A day earlier.-
As Natasha sat in the hospital lobby, thousands of thoughts racing through her mind, she couldn't help but let out the heaviest sigh she possibly could.
15 minutes. She was absent from Ray's side only for 15 minutes. 15 measly minutes, and it was during those specific 15 minutes of her being away, did he decide to wake up for the first time. Well, it's not like he decided that himself, but... It was still frustrating. She huffed, rubbing at her eyes in an irritated manner.
Annoyance pierced her mind like small needles digging into her skin. She sat faithfully next to him, talked to him and held his hand all this time, but when it came to the most important moment of all, she was not there when he needed her most. What was the point of that round-the-clock watch of hers, then? Now, all these grueling days of continuous sitting at his bedside seemed utterly meaningless to her. Honestly, it was pretty stupid of her to feel this annoyed at something so insignificant, but... Perhaps, she was just tired. Which wouldn't be a surprising explanation at all. She was exhausted.
Natasha groaned into her hands. Ray's reaction was her fault. She should have told Seven about all the nuances... She swore to herself, that she would be there for Ray when he woke up for the first time, since she didn’t want him to feel alone again, but...
In the end, he had to be injected with a sedative, forcefully plunging him into the peaceful world of unconsciousness for his own good. She heard about all the fuss only when she witnessed an entire team of doctors and nurses already rushing into his ward, with Seven being pushed out the door. She exhaled, rolling her head back onto the back of the chair, staring at the painfully bright lights of the hospital.
...God, she couldn't imagine how scared he was. How terrified and alone he felt. In the end, all her efforts to be with him were completely futile. Hell, she even spent her nights in his room, how is any of this fair!?
She observed Seven, who appeared to be praying, holding a silver cross in his hands. Her jaw clenched.
If God existed, he had a cruel sense of humor.
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂
Seven eventually let go of the cross, now left staring absent-mindedly at the floor. This is not what... he expected. No, not at all. He slumped in his chair, clasping his head in his hands, inadvertently parodying the same pose Natasha was in moments earlier. Something he seemed to do often these days. Or, maybe they were both just very stressed. Probably the latter. The more he thought about what just happened, the more his heart sank, a sickening sense of dread enveloping his insides.
He had a bad feeling about this.
"I don't get it. He was so scared of... me? What was that all about? I mean... Yes, of course he would be scared but- Why was he looking at me with like... that?"
Remembering Saeran's terrified look... As if he was being threatened by some horrifying creature, a look he knew so well and vowed to rid him of. But... He didn't even do anything! All he did was sit next to him and call him by his name. Then, why was he so afraid of him...?
He looked at Natasha, as if she was the one who was supposed to know everything there was to know about his brother. And he... He kind of hated it. He had absolutely no other information. From anyone. Even from those who should have been responsible for him... He just... Didn't know who else to turn to at this point. Feeling so helpless was one of the things he hated most of all.
But, for now, he had no other hope except for her.
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂
Natasha gulped, dropping her gaze to the floor with guilt, unable to bear the disheartened expression on Seven's face. She should have told him everything from the very beginning, instead of delaying it, waiting for some miracle, or until somebody else would do it for her. Although, then again, it's not like she knew that much. No, she knew practically nothing.
She hummed quietly, kicking off her shoes from her feet, pulling her knees up to her chest, and wrapping her arms around them. Her head turned towards the bustling hallway of the hospital, her mind focusing on the med personnel in white coats going in and out of the wards, paying no mind to their hushed dialogue. Her heart sank as she watched them, today's unfortunate events replaying in her head for the countless time. She wanted to be there when Ray woke up... Sure, her presence hardly would have magically removed all his fear and stress upon his first awakening, but-
Ugh...
The strangest thing is, some tiniest part of her felt... somewhat jealous that Seven was the one who saw him awake first. It seemed so stupid and absurd to her, however, she couldn't do anything about these unwanted feelings of hers. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't pictured their 'reunion' in her own head many times. Maybe, as a small source of comfort in this stressful time. But, then again, these daydreams of hers were hardly believable, and she knew that. Even if Ray had some... 'feelings' for her, her being next to him wouldn't make his awakening that joyful or happy. But, she just wanted... to lighten his burden, at least a little. Let him know that he was not alone, and that someone was nearby. That... she would protect him.
She got distracted.
Natasha turned away from the ward doors and gazed at the redhaired hacker sitting next to her. She had to take a breath before beginning her explanation. This wasn't going to be pleasant. "Seven... I may not know much, but... He spent almost his entire life there, as far as I understand. I was his assistant for about a year, and... the 'outside world' in their ideology is a terrible, cruel place where everyone wants to destroy you."
She shivered, turning her eyes back to the floor, sorting through so many unpleasant memories of her time in that cursed place that disguised itself as a castle of hopes and dreams. In hindsight, she should have known that any castle, however bright and welcoming, had a dungeon hidden beneath its grand beauty.
"I... tried to ask him to come with me once we escaped... maybe even ask the RFA for help, since I realized that none of you were bad people... and he almost listened to me, but... the Savi- I mean, Rika intervened and reminded him that, if he ever left, he would get locked up somewhere like an animal, never to see the sky or flowers, or... something like that." Natasha swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing. "He's... afraid of this world. And-"
"What are you..." Seven's voice was quiet, but that didn't deter her from catching onto every tremble in his tone as he stared at her in a mix of disbelief and horror.
A small noise of discomfort, similar to a whine, slipped from her lips as she then hid her head in her knees, speaking the rest of her words in a muffled voice. Maybe, she didn't want to know his reaction to what she was about to say. Because she knew this would hurt him, greatly, and she did not want to be a witness to that. Not again. 
"...He sees you as an enemy. He hates you and V in particular, and I'm not sure why. He-" Natasha shuddered, remembering the terrible sight of what Ray has done to Jihyun in the basement. She saw him be threatening, or even scary before, but... not like this. Not outright malicious and violent. In that cell, she saw a side of him she didn’t want to accept. And it was that exact event that pushed her to help Jihyun escape, leaving behind her former boss in the process. "...I said he was a good man, and i didn't lie about that, but- He... He tortured Jihyun, right in front of my eyes... I know it was an order from Rika, but he- he was so... ruthless with him. And I think... he would have done the same to you, if you were in Jihyun's place. I don't know why, I know almost nothing about his past, except that it was terrible, and... I can’t explain anything else to you, I’m sorry.”
She raised her head, biting on her lower lip.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is... Maybe- Next time he wakes up... you should leave the room. He... knows me, and we were close, so... maybe, that will make him a little more comfortable." Natasha fidgeted, knowing full well how that probably sounded to him. "...And if he's relatively calm, I'll call you in."
This would result in a bad outcome. She already knew that. The way Ray talked about Seven... If they would ever get along well with each other, then... She could only imagine it after a long period of time. But, maybe, if he saw how Seven was truly worried about him... And how painful it was for Seven to see him in pain... Maybe? Ray was a kind soul at heart, no matter how absurd this may sound after all the horrible events of these past few months of her stay in Magenta. She believed... Or, she wanted to believe that he was capable of forgiving Seven, no matter what could have happened between them.
...Jihyun knew. Natasha was certain of it. But he was still in intensive care, and Jumin strictly forbade Seven to approach his best friend after he saw his... 'unstable' state of mind, once the truth of who was Ray came out. And that was probably for the best. Rika probably knew, too... She was the one that 'saved' Ray, after all. But Rika is far from a reliable source of information. Especially now. Either way... She won't talk to anyone until Ray wakes up again, and this time she will be there.
And if she had to avoid leaving even to use the restroom to achieve this, so be it. It sounded absurd. She almost smiled at herself. At how irrational that sounded.
Almost.
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂
"As an... enemy?" Seven narrowed his eyes at Natasha with a look of hurt crossing over his features. "What kind of nonsense did she even say to him?!"
He clenched his hands in fists. "Why did she do this to him? Did she lie to me that she loved him!? How long? Was it from the beginning? Did V knew? Is that why he wouldn't let me catch the hacker? I-"
"I don't know, Seven. It's true that I worked with him, but I... there's... a very limiting amount of information I could have access to." The young woman murmured, her lips pursed into a thin line. It was obvious that she had a hard time speaking about this. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier, I just- I don't know... I guess I thought everything would work out on its own somehow."
He couldn't believe what was happening even after a few days have passed. He was so angry, and confused, and scared, and every day his hatred for everyone responsible became stronger. His own hatred would have frightened him, if he wouldn't get more and more sickening information of how his brother was mistreated every single day. He hated Rika, he hated V, and he wanted revenge for what happened to Saeran, and he did not hide it from anyone. The crushing sense of utter betrayal was almost too much to bear. Those two hurt his family enough to deserve punishment. No, not even punishment... He truly despised them with all his guts for what they did. Or, in V's case, for what he didn't do. Justice was nothing but a meaningless word to him now; it was simply about his own desires, his raging emotions, which he no longer controlled at all. He didn't care about justice. He just wanted to make them pay.
And yet... he hated himself most of all.
So... Saeran hated him, is that right? It felt like physical pain inside his soul. Debilitating and exhausting. Like a knife twisting itself slowly and mercilessly into his heart, draining the life out of him. Every new day that he learned more and more, it would only become an ever greater burden to bear, weighting on him heavier than anything he had to stomach in his miserable life so far. And God, did he have to stomach a lot. It pained him to imagine the absolute hell his brother went through, and he was unlikely to come to terms with it so soon, if ever. Saeran hated him... He was afraid of him... What did that insane woman even tell him? He doesn't know anything. And that frustrated to no end. Some part of him wanted to scream, to blow up at Natasha, to grab her by the shoulders, shake her and demand answers, but... He knew she wasn't to blame for any of this. She was a victim who just happened to get caught up in this mess. 
And, despite having every right to get angry and leave them all behind, she stayed in this hospital: refusing to leave Saeran's side, visiting Jihyun on the daily, even bringing him food, ignoring his insistent refusals to eat. Most importantly of all, if it wasn't for her... God, he didn't even want to imagine what would have happened to Saeran if she didn't decide to go against him and leave back then. He shouldn't be angry with her.
So, he decided to leave before doing or saying something he would regret.
"...Yeah, you're probably right."
His own voice sounded a lot less emotional than he actually was on the inside... His chest hurt. The pain was getting stronger by the minute. It was unbearably painful to realize that he could evoke such negative emotions in Saeran just by his presence alone. He huffed. Perhaps this was too much for him again. Part of him still believed that Saeran or... Ray? That he would be able to recognize him and forgive him, by some stupid miracle. He understood that he still saw him as that quiet, kind, but frightened child he knew him as before, and that Saeran had already matured. Raised by Rika's lies and even more pain. Although now, taking everything into account, he began to feel more and more empty and hopeless about the whole situation. Why try to find out anything when he would receive test results after test results with a huge list of drugs in Saeran's system, when he would get told about how badly his brother's health has been neglected for years on end, and when his own family would look up at him with such a terrified expression.
With a colder look to his eyes, he stood up and headed out, still hanging his head low. After all these days, this was the first time he went out without there being an urgent need for it, even if it was only for a short time. Leaving Saeran now... He couldn't. He didn’t know what to do now and how to live on at all. What was the point of him continuing his work for the agency. But he had to finish it if he didn't want to put others in danger. He should never have forgotten this. That's not to mention the danger of Saeran being him, having his blood examined. What other choice did he have, though? It's not like he could take him out of the hospital when he was in such a critical condition. Damn it, his head was boiling again, no matter how hard he would try to concentrate and distract himself-
He felt the urge to break something.
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂
Natasha sighed, watching Seven leave with a gloomy expression on her face. Ugh... What happened between these two? She had the idea of ​​going over to have a proper talk with Jihyun once he recovers enough for such a heavy conversation, but... Something told her that this would be a very long talk, for which she did not have the strength right now. Moreover, she felt guilty about hiding the truth from Seven. He looked very distressed... Even with her not knowing absolutely anything about the situation, she could understand that Ray was someone very important to him. Family is complicated, but... it shouldn't be this complicated, right?
However, at this moment, she should use what she has at her disposal. So, after a few more moments, she got up from her seat and wandered aimlessly towards the local cafeteria, typing out a short message to the redhaired hacker along the way that read: 'I'll bring you something to eat. I hope you feel better... If it means anything, I'm ready to listen.'
She had the impression that, if she didn't bring him any food, he would refuse to eat at all. Or, rather, just forget about it.
This situation was filled with nothing but sadness and secrets.
-Present time.-
Natasha was prepared for the next time Ray woke up. She put down her book, which she had been reading for the last hour or so, smiling a little towards the young man on the hospital bed. "Good morning!"
She tried her best to carry a positive and bright attitude with her, since Ray was so gloomy and unhappy... almost always, in fact. A sheepish laugh filled the room as she rubbed the back of her neck in an embarrassed manner.
"Yesterday you looked so upset and nervous, so I decided to give you a small gift to cheer you up a little." She pointed to a small vase placed onto his bedside table, a bouquet of various flowers placed in it in a somewhat clumsy manner. "Apparently, the clinic has a small botanical garden for patients to visit, and the personnel allowed me to bring you some flowers from it if I helped them out a little. I tried to choose the brightest ones with good meanings, so that they would brighten up your day a little."
The moment Ray woke up again, he rushed to find her with his blurry gaze. Although, before he could get all emotional over her apparently not disappearing or leaving like he expected her to, she successfully managed to distract his attention. That's good.
"For me...?"
A more genuine laugh slipped from her lips. "Well... Except for forget-me-nots. I just love forget-me-nots, and I haven't looked up their meaning. So, uh, don't pay any mind if they actually mean something bad. Other than that, I brought you some daisies, pink carnations, and white camellias! I can hand them over to you, if you want."
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂
He already could barely hold back his tears, realizing just how kind Natasha was being to him... Again and again... His heart began to flutter in a painfully familiar way, both scaring and overjoying him. He gave her flowers countless of times, but never got the chance to receive any himself. Not like he ever thought he would. Now he simply didn't know how to react to such a heartfelt gesture. This was just too much... Way more than he deserved, especially from her.
"You even chose the meanings... For me... I- Thank you... They are so beautiful."
God, they were great. They went together so gracefully and their meanings... Oh, even her smile was so... sweet and lovely to look at. Like a mirage that would fade from his line of vision with a single blink. Ray never deserved to even stand next to her, much less receive something so meaningful from her! The former hacker started fidgeting with the sheets nervously, but he still hoped that his words would reflect the gratitude he felt.
"Thank you very much. They are truly wonderful. I... I don't know what to say, I'm sorry. It's so much... for me..." He lowered his head, feeling guilty for reacting this way to her gesture. He couldn't even thank her properly... Not like his body could move in a way he wanted it to, anyways.
"Hey, no need to apologize. I wanted to do this." Natasha smiled, making his heart squeeze in his chest.
As usual, he was useless.
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂
The former assistant sat down on a chair near his bed and smiled. "Besides, it's the least I can do, don't worry. I don't expect anything in return. I'm sure it's not very nice to be locked up in a room like this all the time. Even I don't like visiting doctors, let alone staying in a hospital, I can't imagine how this feels like for you. How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"
With a hint of worry in her eyes, she tilted her head to the side and assessed his condition. She had little experience with visiting hospitals... But even if she did have the universal experience of getting stuck in the hospital due to a broken leg or a stupid injury, it still hardly would have prepared her for something like this.
She never thought she would see Ray like this, that she would see any person she knew like this. But, in the end... Jihyun is still recovering from his surgery and, thankfully, seemed to be recovering well, and Ray... It hurt to even look at Ray.
She understood that she should rejoice in the simple fact of him even being alive and not suffering anything worse than this, but... Even the doctors could not say anything for sure yet, since they were never able to examine him after he woke up. She had no idea how to bring this entire topic up to him. Like a dozen of other topics, each more unpleasant than the last. So much had happened in such a short period of time that even she felt overwhelmed, and she had no idea what it was like to be in his shoes. This is only his third awakening so far, and if the first one turned out to be a disaster, then in the second one, he hardly had enough strength for a normal conversation, and she didn’t have time to tell him... anything, really.
How was she supposed to bring up such heavy topics when it's clearly not the time for it? He almost died! How can she explain what happened to Mint Eye? What his new reality entailed for him? About everything that awaited him in the hospital? About his injuries? About Rika? About everything that happened between her and Jihyun during this time? And... about Seven...? It's simply... too much! She didn't want to talk about any of this! It's... just not fair, not fair at all. But, then again, none of this was fair from the very beginning. Everything always happened too fast, too cruelly and too unfairly, and Natasha couldn't do anything about it. Only adjust to it.
The majority of his body was covered by bandages and compressions, with some areas being more dense than others. She did not know the details of his burns and injuries... But even a fool would see that everything was quite serious. The dressings on his head, covering one half of his face, involuntarily would bring to mind the worst of thoughts, but... it seemed like, by some miracle, he did not lose his eye. Ugh, she really should find out more about his condition.
She sighed, biting her lip and squeezing her hands in her lap, as if she wanted to say something. She had no idea what words were stuck on the tip of her tongue. There was simply too much she wanted to say and not enough time to say it all.
"Ray I-"
She stopped mid-sentence. Her gaze became fixed on the modest bouquet she had brought him, and then on his left hand, where the white bandages that were now painfully familiar covered his skin. Suddenly, she found a huge lump forming in the middle of her throat, restricting her ability to breathe. Everything seemed to fall back onto her shoulders again in a second.
"Natasha...?" Ray's voice sounded muffled through the rising white noise filling her senses.
The horrifying news of what Rika had done to Jihyun, the general panic that set in right after, the alarming messages she got from Ray, the disgusting twisting in her stomach as she raced along the rough mountain roads, praying to all the Gods there were for her not crash the car on the way. The deafening roar of the explosion and the cursed stench of smoke, which now always would make her hands tremble whenever she smelled something burning. The way this very same acrid smoke penetrated her lungs, burned her nose and throat, as it seemed to her that she would simply suffocate and die right then and there, unable to save or help anyone. The sight of Ray, bloodied, burned, and barely breathing in her lap - something that now remained forever ingrained into her memory, haunting her nightmares ever since. Nightmares where he... where everything ends very differently and way more tragically. The way his blood was all over her clothes and her hands as she desperately tried to keep the pressure on one of his worst wounds on their way to the hospital.
And how... how that long wait felt. Not knowing what answer awaited her. Not knowing anything.
This time, Natasha couldn't put on a strong facade like she did for him last time. It was not possible for her to smile and calm him.
Instead, large, ugly tears rolled down her cheeks without any signs of stopping, and, with one hoarse pitiful sob, Natasha bent over in her chair, lowering her head in front of him and letting the salty drops fall onto the white sheets, leaving behind tiny spots of gray.
"I'm really- Really sorry."
Her voice sounded quiet and weak. Vulnerable. She understood that her stupid tears would not solve anything, that she needed to be his pillar of support right now, that she needed to explain to him as much as possible and help with all his burdens, but... She just... couldn't. She was weak. She was not at all as strong as Jihyun, Jumin and the rest of RFA saw her as.
She took a shuddering, shaky breath, one that burned her lungs in a painfully similar way they burned on that cursed day. She was like a little child trying to hold back her tears, but only failing in the process. Incoherent words rolled out of her mouth like a waterfall.
"I never- I didn't think- Ray..." It seems that only now had she fully realized what could have happened, and what it truly meant for her to be able to call him by his name like that. Ugh... She was a complete disaster. She clung to his name, refusing to let go, like it was a mantra.
Ray seemed to open his mouth to try and say something, but nothing came out. Or, maybe she simply didn't hear it. Neither option would surprise her.
"Ray, Ray, Ray..."
He was still alive. He was here. He was okay. It was just a name. And yet, it felt like something much bigger now. Proof that he was real, and not just a dream or a hallucination.
Another trembling sob wrecked her body, and Natasha clutched a small piece of the blanket in her hands, as if trying to ground herself with it. "I'm just- I-I'm so glad you're alive. I'm so glad I get to see you again."
In a state of emotional turmoil, harsh words almost came out.
What motivated you to do such a thing? What were you thinking?
Fortunately, she had enough self-control to resist those impulsive thoughts. Instead, she sniffled, continuing to let fresh tears fall from her eyes.
Ah... This was the first time she cried since the whole thing happened. She just realized it now. Maybe that's why she was feeling so overwhelmed?
"I... I... I missed you too, you know."
You're so stupid.
"Don't go anywhere. Not... not like that, do you hear me? Stay. Stay with me and don't do anything- to yourself. Please..."
The last words she spoke caused scary images to appear before her eyes, which is why she immediately closed them, not wanting to see any of them. Not wanting to even think about them. What did he think about back then, in the last seconds before the bomb went off...? Was he scared? Or had he already become so resigned to this outcome that he was waiting for it? She didn't want to know.
As she thought about it, a lump of bile rose violently in her throat.
Why did everything... have to end up like this...?
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂
Ray's expression slowly shifted from concern to something akin to panic as he saw tears appear in her eyes. He never saw her cry before... Not in front of him. It made his whole body grow cold with dread. He didn't understand what happened. What did he do to cause such a reaction in her? Usually he tried not to move a single muscle to avoid the pain, but, now, he automatically put his hand on the top of her head. The pain from this movement did return, but in a dulled out form, as he was focusing on something else right now. And yet her last words gave him a hint, making him feel sick to his stomach from the memory. He didn't expect... that someone would care about him like that. But, now he noticed how pale her face was, her eyes, which had completely lost their former dazzling shine of emerald green he loved so much, her usually neatly brushed out hair now tied in a messy bun that did not look comfortable at all. All this was the result of stress, shock and many hours spent here, next to him. It's... his fault. Her pain was his fault.
“What happened, Natasha? Don’t... Don’t cry, I beg you. Is it because of me? Don't. Don't cry for me, please."
At that time, he believed that no one needed him. She left with V, Mint Eye was destroyed, he was left all alone. He didn't think... that she would return to him. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have woken up again. This thought gave rise to an unpleasant feeling in his chest. Although... He still wasn't sure of anything. He had little understanding of all the consequences his final decision would bring him. What would happen to him now, what was to come. He didn't have time to think about it, and he deliberately avoided the topic as if nothing had happened. But he wouldn't be able to deny it for long: he changed when he made up his mind back in Magenta, and he changed when he woke up again.
Don't go?
What would have happened to her if she didn’t make it? Natasha was with him all this time, every day, she sat here and waited for him to wake up. He put her through hell, and he didn't even know how much damage he caused her on that fateful day. What if he died in her arms. What would have happened to her then? How would he hurt her? Would she blame herself for his death? Crushing guilt filled his entire being. He was so selfish... These questions were too difficult for him to answer.
"Forgive me, I didn't mean to... hurt you." He looked down blankly. "Do you consider me that important to you? I made you go through so much. You should hate me by now... Why do you suffer so much for me?"
Both of them had a lot to discuss.
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cupidsdescendant · 2 years ago
Note
Hey! Can I request medic with a teen!reader who wants to be a doctor when they get a job and is studying biology (platonic :D!!!) (Also sorry your account got deleted D:)
Yes yes yes! I’d love to💗💗💗💗💗💗 that’s such a cute idea I love it so much! Thank you again for the requests <3

“Apprentice” Medic x Teen Reader!
Y/N was a young teenager when they joined the fort to medics requests. Medic was close friends with Y/N’s parents and when he found out Y/N also had a fascination with medical research and biology he was ecstatic! Y/N has spent 6 months already in the fort and it’s gotten stressful but Medic was always there to lead them through it. Today was Y/N’s first day of learning anatomy and biology with Medic but it seems like someone forgot about the day..

Beep..beep..beep..
“Mng….” Y/N’s eyes felt sore to the sight of the blaring sun and hearing their alarm clock beep angrily it irritated them. They moved their body over to turn their clock off and went back to hugging their pillow tightly. A relaxation came upon the silence up until a big slam of their door shook them up

“JA, Y/N! ARE YOU READY?!!” Medic yells out with the biggest smile on his face. He wasn’t wearing his usual outfit today, instead he head a white button up long sleeve (that he bunched up to his shoulders), a brown argyle vest and dark brown slacks with black jarmen shoes.
Y/N bounced out of bed despite having their pajamas on and nervously shimmied around “DOC-! AH-! Hey-h-hey im ye- IM NOT READY!!!” They said panicking over to their dresser “JUST GIVE ME 5 MINUTES-!!” Medic walks backwards and closes the door with a chuckle “I told jou to always try and be 5 minutes before anyzhing~“.

Y/N scarfed down their cereal and Medic watched as he sipped his coffee. “I’ve never understood Americans and zheir love for cereal.” “Ifts tasty!” Y/N blurted out with their face stuffed. “Vell if you say so.”
“Alright!” Medic said as he gripped his gloves tightly and put them on “today will be learning about the anatomy of ze frog!” Y/N took a double glance in confusion “frog?! Doc shouldn’t we use real people!” You straightened your hands and pointed at the small dead frog on this huge operating table just. Laying there. “I mean cmon what’s a frog gonna help me with when it comes to surgery?!”

“Hm…you could always know if you become a veterinarian!” That excuse ain’t going to make it “Medic I wanna work on a real body!!” Y/N whined. “You’re not ready, Y/N. We must take small steps to get to zhe goal. Now, focus.” Medic took out his clip board with a printed on photo of a frog and for the rest of the session they poked and prodded the body, learning about the nerve systems and the organs.

Y/N went to bed that night unsatisfied, they wanted to work on a human body and examine it, they wanted to find more and more things about it then work on some frog. They went to bed twisting and turning in frustration barely getting any sleep.

Day after that and lesson after lesson it’s gotten more and more boring with just working on small animals and it was obvious to Medic. Y/N became more sloppy, their writing less professional, not really listening and zoning out and coming late more often. Medic was displeased and felt bad about it so he decided to take matters in his own hands.
“Zhat will be all for today.” He said, he was looking down and all you could see was the reflection of light on his glasses. “Medic we just stared-?” Y/N said confusingly but they were happy knowing they could now leave early. “Ja, but I decided to cut zhis one short. It’s okay, Y/N I zhink you should leave.” His voice was neutral. It showed know emotion. Medic walked out the door, blood on his hands still and left Y/N alone with the light flickering.

The next day Y/N was awoken up at around 3 am, 5 hours earlier than they’ve ever been awoken and was shook. “Doc, what the hell are- ow!” Medic clicked the light switch on and basically blinded Y/N “the fuck!!? Doc turn that down it’s like 2 am-..” Y/N grumbled.

“Nein! Y/N I have something very special for our lesson.” He pulled Y/N out of their bed like a corpse, Y/N was half awake in their pajamas limp with their eyes shut tight from the intense light of the hallway.

A few minutes later Y/N knew they were in the Medibay because of the cold atmosphere and the chill that crept under their spine. “Doc are we really gonna work right now? Ugh.”
“It’ll be okay Y/N just trust me.” Medic said giggling to himself a little. Medic put Y/N down “alright, keep jour eyes closed!”
“Medic my eyes are already closed-.” Y/N sighed and crossed their arms upset that they were awaken from their beauty sleep. Medic ran away to god knows where and it gave Y/N the time to think to themselves. They knew Medic was crazy but he must be really going looney right now because it’s not like him to do this.

Y/N kept their eyes shut for a few minutes and heard medics familiar clicking of his boots enter the room.
“look who’s back.” They could hear medic grunting and carrying something heavy, all at the same time someones shoes shuffling and fabric rubbing against the marble flooring. “Uh. Doc?.” No response. Y/N hesitated opening their eyes but they decided not to, yet still getting nervous with the sounds surrounding them. “Hey…what’s going on-“ A big thud fell on the operation table and there was a faint sound of liquid dropping. “MEDIC!” Y/N stood up and opened their eyes

In horror they found a BLU Scout’s body, his head was shot in by a Sniper and there was blood everywhere. His eyes were lifeless and his body was pale, the blood spilling out of his body got all over the floor and became a puddle. Y/N was shook and Medic realized they saw it. He rearranged his glasses on his nose getting blood on them and paused. “Uh. TA da-!” Medic flared his bloody hands around in excitement “surprise Y/N!”

“W-wh-wh…” Y/N’s face was still completely stiff and still was in shock with what was in front of them. “You’ve been doing good and vell, I wanted to surprise you but you OPENED JOUR EYES DUMMKOPF!” Medic said raising his voice. He paused again and cleared his throat “and so, I found Zhis Scout for jour anatomy practice!” Even though this was completely and utterly disgusting and gross, Y/N appreciated the fact that they were thought of and smiled sheepishly “Medic..this is-. I’m-!” They ran over to him and hugged him tightly “I’M SO HAPPY!” They blurted out

The rest of the morning was them working on the BLU Scouts body with no knowledge from the BLU mercs. It was a nice morning to start the day off and the bond between Y/N and Medic grew stronger <3


Hi y’all! I took a break from writing for a few days since I was pretty burnt out and this one took a while! Thank you for the support and supporting my work! I appreciate it a ton <3 mwah!
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ferne-exst · 2 years ago
Text
A two part Revalink drabble that was going somewhere, but then didn’t.
Inspired by “Socks” by Dominic Fike
-
The hero of Hyrule stared at his shoes. He looked like a child, and not a young man that had slain the universe’s greatest evil three years ago.
I’m messy. Simply said, reeking with shame.
“Oh, do I know.” Revali said without missing a beat. The hero’s head did not raise. He actually seemed to wilt even more.
And irresponsible. I irritate you.
“Very much so.”
And I have twigs in my hair.
“That will be a real pain in my feathers to extract once we’re home, yes”. Revali said with exasperation, but with not an ounce less of fondness.
Link then huffed in frustration; whatever plan he had was definitely not working; whatever cryptic message he was trying to say wasn’t being understood. He finally looked Revali in the eye, to shoot him a glare of all things.
A real one, this time. His thick eyebrows were furrowed so hard, the skin between them wrinkled. And his lips weren’t pulled into that little pout Revali liked, but a tight, angry curl. The Rito just rolled his eyes.
“If this is an attempt to scare me away by listing all your flaws,” He moved closer to the hylian, beginning to almost circle him, “it’s not going to work.”
“I’m afraid I’ve come to love every little irritating thing about you.”
“You’re correct. You are messy, and some days, you make me want to pluck every feather out of my head out of stress. And you have many twigs in your hair.” His face wrinkled with disgust as he ripped one loose, leaves and all.
“But I’ve already made up my mind to clean up your messes for the rest of my life. And to preen this rats nest of yours even after it’s turned gray. And I do not see that as a burden, but a reward, and it is something I look forward to very much.”
He cupped Link’s face in his hands and gave him a doughy smile. Link could only stare back, mixed with a whole bunch of feelings
“And I’m - although I hate to admit it,” he let out the most dramatic sigh, that almost made Link chuckle even in his terrible mood, “a bit abrasive, over critical, certainly not the most sociable, and judgemental. Even though most of the judgment is warranted!” That last part did succeed in getting a small laugh out of him. Revali basked in it with pride, and he made sure the last part of his speech was extra sweet.
“Yet you continue to love me as I am, in my entirety. Why do you feel as if I’m not already devoted to giving you the same treatment?”
“Well, nice try. But you’re stuck with me.” He said with probably the cheekiest smile Link had ever seen on him. It made his heart ache. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything in return.
“Which honestly is a privilege more than anything.”
——
“Are you serious?”
Link just nodded his head in agreement, with a pleasant smile on his face. The same gleeful response he’s been giving his partner for the past ten minutes. It’s driving Revali mad.
Every flaw you have is a part of you. And I love you, so the rest doesn’t matter. Link shrugged, like that made perfect sense to him. Like he - a single little Hylian - had cracked the key to love, one of Hyrule’s greatest mysteries. To hell if he was one of Hylia’s favorites, she couldn’t have possibly whispered the secret of love into his ear.
Could she?
“That’s ridiculous.”
I don’t think so.
“You’re crazy.”
Maybe.
“You can’t say that, you don’t love everything.”
I do
Revali looked scandalized. “You can’t love my attitude.”
I do
“Or when I insult your hair, or your posture.”
The Rito had begun quickly pacing around the room in his stress and confusion, circling Link like a really confused hawk might its prey. Link just sat in the center, watching him circle around content, singing the same phrase.
I do.
“I’m completely sour, I’m insufferable.”
No matter what the Rito bit at him, Link didn’t budge. The warmth in that upturned gaze never faltered, and he smiled at him like a precious gemstone that he had found.
Even when he was thrown the harshest jabs or complaints Revali could muster, and his face scrunched up in anger at some of them, Link’s eyes still shone with an undying fondness. As long as Revali looked into his eyes, he’d know that there was someone madly in love with him. Any doubts of ever being loved could be thrown to the wind.
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readerstories · 3 years ago
Text
Soft protector - Tommy x male!reader
Set in no particular time. Hope you enjoy some sorta soft Tommy, feels like it’s been ages since I’ve written for him. Probably not as soft as you had hoped for but kinda soft none the less. (AO3)
Warnings: swearing, both Tommy and reader being a bit of a dick, teasing
Wordcount: 1364
Request: Hello! Here from AO3 :3 I would love to see a Tommy x male reader. Something soft and sweet. Tommy is super protective/possessive of R. R keeps telling him to relax and not to worry but nothing stops Tommy, so R decides to pull him aside and helps him de-stress and focus on something else with soft touches/kisses/words. Tommy can't help melting into it (his hair's his weakness! Lots of finger hair combing and scratching! :3 ) Thank you!
You know telling Tommy to relax does nothing, but still you try. You try over and over again, several times throughout the day every day for the last week, trying to get him to get at least a little less possessive of you.
Your expertise is doing stuff on your own, getting it done well without much needed input from Tommy, and getting it done fast. Being at his side all day and beck and call is in a way nice, as you get to see  the man you love more, but it’s starting to irritate you not being able to do your own thing.
It’s all because of that one fight, that you had won, not that it mattered when you had gotten hurt and Tommy had seen the slight limp that went away not even two days later.
After that, he had kept you by his side, not letting you go anywhere on your own.
Even then, you felt like you missed Tommy. Yes you were together, but with the amount he worked, and by extension you, free time alone where non-existent and at night he barely went to bed, only sleeping the minimal amount of hours he could get away with and still be a functioning human being. You tried doing the same, but often you went to bed alone and woke up alone, only a vague memory of Tommy joining your bed sometime late in the night with a single kiss to your forehead.
It’s another evening of this when you decide enough is enough. Tommy and you are in his study at home. He is working on something, you don’t know or care what, while you are reading a book on the couch. You like reading, but had never been one for writing or doing paperwork. So you are of no help to Tommy with that either, which just elevates your irritation.
When you get up, Tommy’s attention is on you at once.
“Where are you going?”
“Out to take a piss, what, can’t a man get some alone time or do you need to hold my dick for me?” Tommy doesn’t say anything, but you don’t give him space to either, leaving the room in angry strides.
The place is quiet, everyone else has gone home or are sleeping. It’s the first time in days you have some time to yourself, some time to actually think without being surrounded. You stop in the hallway on your way back, a deep sigh escaping you as you stretch. You love Tommy, but being with his is frustrating. Especially when you know he is used to having to take care of everyone, but hardly lets anyone do it with him.
With that, an idea is quickly formed and set in stone, and you start your way back to Tommy’s study. Your steps are firm and certain, but you stop in the doorway of the room to just look at Tommy for a few moments. You can see how he holds himself. You can see that he is tired and overworked, and in need of a distraction, but also a reminder.
“Tommy.” Your tone is hard, making Tommy look up at once, seeming almost surprised to see you there, mostly cast in shadow where you are.
“Come with me. Now.” You can see he’s getting irritated, you are certain he is seconds away from telling you off as he stars opening his mouth, but you cut him off before he can even begin.
“I’m going to your bedroom. You can either join me or stay here and be miserable.” With that, you turn on your hell and start walking away. You can hear something fall on the floor with a light ‘thud’ and some paper flutter, but at least your steps aren’t echoing alone in the no longer empty hallway.
Tommy follows, deadly silent. When you get to his room, you go straight in, Tommy slipping in after you. You shrug your suit jacket off, take the cuff links of your shirt sleeves, and roll them up to your elbows. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you reach out a hand towards Tommy, who doesn’t take it, keeping both hands in his trouser pockets, but he does step closer. Close enough that you can get a hand on his hip and drag him even closer. Looking up, you can tell Tommy is wondering what the hell you are doing.
“You can a right prick, you know that.”
“If you brought me up here to insult me in my own bedroom, you can just leave.”
“Oh now I can leave? You haven’t let me leave your side for days and now suddenly you want me gone?” You huff, pulling one of his hands out of his pockets, placing it on your shoulder.
“I’m right here, not going anywhere.” Tommy just looks at you, face set in stone. Sighing, you stand up, his hand staying on your shoulder as yours fall to his hips. You lean forward so you can place a chaste kiss on his lips.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Tommy snorts, his second hand finding its way to your hair, pulling you forward into a more proper kiss.
You let him, kissing him back, but keeping the pace of it slow. Spinning the two of you around, you break from Tommy and push him down on the bed. He moves so he’s on his back and you quickly follow, straddling him. A quick kiss is all he gets before you flip the two of you so you’re underneath him instead.
“You know you are allowed to relax sometimes?” One of your hands find it’s way to his hair.
“Only sometimes?” Tommy jokes, holding himself up on his elbows. You tug on his hair and Tommy lets out a little groan.
“Well, that’s all you seem to allow yourself to do, but I thought I could help you a little this time.”
“Help?” Tommy asks with a raised brow.
“Not like that, not this time at least. Take your jacket, vest, and shoes off.” Tommy seems skeptical, but sits up so most of his weight are on your thighs. Your hands go briefly to his thighs, giving them a quick squeeze before shedding your own vest, shoes already gone from before.
As soon as Tommy is only left in his shirt and trousers, you pull him down again, this time so his head is pillowed on your chest. You have one hand in his hair, playing with the strands, while the other hand traces random patterns along his back. Tommy lets out a big sigh, and you can feel his body sag, relaxing and becoming less tight by the minute.
Neither of you say anything for a little while, just laying in comfortable silence.
Tommy keeps his hands close to himself, but after a couple minutes, one hand finds its way to the buttons on your chest. He unbuttons a few, slipping his hand inside. He doesn’t really do anything, just letting it rest there, but it makes you draw in a breath anyway.
“Your hand is cold.”
“I’m warming it up.” You laugh and ruffle his hair, making Tommy hum. You kiss his forehead and as an answer Tommy kisses your still clothed chest. Silence falls once more, as you still comb trough his hair with your fingers. You had learned this weakness of Tommy’s pretty early one, and now you’re using it to the fullest to get him to relax.
Which it seems to be doing, as not long after a long yawn escapes Tommy. You let out one of your own, eyes starting to feel heavy. You think Tommy have fallen asleep only minutes later, but he is awake enough to mumble something into you chest, so low you almost can’t hear it. It sounds suspiciously like a ‘thank you’, but you don’t say anything in response, just moving your arm to go over his waist instead and giving him another kiss to the forehead.
Only a few moments later are you both asleep, Tommy for once quiet and relaxed in his lovers arms.
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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years ago
Text
What You Fight About
part 2
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A/N: just something I thought about
Headcanon: what you two would fight about the most
Warnings: toxic behaviors, yelling, cursing, angst
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Midoriya Izuku:
his absence
being the number one hero is demanding
it’s also been his dream since he could remember
you understood that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t frustrate you when he’d disappear for days at a time
izuku tries to balance his job and home life
but it isn't enough
~~~
You and Izuku don’t fight much. In fact, you never really do. You’re both so compromising that disagreements rarely happen.
But when your kid is involved, that complacency slips away. Even when it comes to one another.
“I’m done talking about this.”
“Honey, why won’t you just listen to me?” he begged, but the irritation in his tone gave it more sharpness than he intended. “[S/N] doesn’t need the tutor. It’s just the teacher.”
You began to pick up the leftover toys from floor more so to expel pent up energy rather than to simply clean. You scoffed, shaking your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Excuse me?” Midoriya snipped. His eyes followed you as you discarded the toys and crossed your arms beside the couch, finally giving him your attention. “I think I know my own son, Y/N.”
Izuku cared so much for your child and you knew that. But that underlying message your brain processed within his words pissed you off.
“And you think I don’t?”
“I just don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”
An incredulous laugh left your lips before they moved into a frown. “He’s failing 4th grade, Izuku. We can’t move him to a different classroom every time he gets a bad grade. At some point, we have to take responsibility! He needs the extra help!”
“You just don’t understand,” the hero muttered, running a hand through his hair.
What he said shouldn’t have set you off, but it did. Everything suddenly flooded your head. All the stress you had to deal with alone bubbled up your throat and exploded.
“No, you don’t understand!”
“Yes I do!”
“How!? You’re barely in his fucking life anyways!”
It went silent shortly after that.
The outburst felt good, but the aftermath made your squeeze with guilt. Izuku’s frown softened into shock before melting into something deeper than pain.
Once your words finally processed through your head, you immediately tried to take it back.
“Izuku, I didn’t mean that—”
“Yes you did.”
You thickly swallowed and averted your eyes to the floor. He was right. You did. You’d been wanting to say it for so long, but this wasn’t the way you planned to deliver those thoughts.
Your gaze moved back to your husband once he gathered his duffle bag and slid on his shoes.
“Baby,” you sighed, your voice much softer than before. It was almost insane how easily the anger left you. “Where are you going?”
You wilted with his next words. “I’ll stay over at the agency. To give you some space. We’ll talk more after we’ve both cooled down,” he sadly smiled.
Despite the hurt silver-lining his green eyes, Midoriya softly held your chin and kissed your forehead. Something he always did when your disagreements didn’t end on a good note. As if to reassure you that, even though he was upset, he still loved you all the same.
And that just made you feel worse.
“’Zuku—”
“Don’t worry about [S/N]. I’ll take him to school tomorrow.” He paused to look you in your eyes. “I love you, always.”
“I love you too,” you quietly resigned and watched him disappear behind the front door leaving you to let your head fall into your hands.
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Bakugo Katsuki
his jealousy
bakugo is confident in many areas of his life
it’s one of his qualities that won you over
but he still had those tiny insecurities that showed up in large ways
aka losing you
and he had no idea how to handle it
~~~
The alcohol probably wasn’t a good idea considering Bakugo was already noticeably pissed on the way to the house party. But everyone assumed it was just another one of his moods he’d get over sooner or later. He wasn’t a drinker, but a beer or two usually loosened him up.
However, your friends looked at each other with worry behind the door to the room you two were in. Despite the party lights and booming stereo, they could hear the angry muffled yelling you two were doing.
You were 100% drunk, but you were 110% sure this man was telling you to stay away from your friend. Your best friend.
“If it’s one thing you have, it’s the audacity,” you sassily quipped.
“I’m not fucking playing around with you, Y/N,” Bakugo snapped with too much bite than you cared to hear. “I want you to stay away from that two-bagged eyed bastard!”
“You always do this! Shinsou’s my friend!”
The redness in his ears wasn’t only from the drinks as his nostrils flared with barely contained irritation. “Friend my ass. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, and that fucker had the nerve to grab you in front of me!”
“He was moving me out of the way!”
“He fucking felt you up is what he did!”
You smacked your teeth, entirely done with the argument. You weren’t getting anywhere. “Now you’re just being delusional.”
Bakugo pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out in a desperate attempt to calm himself. A feat even he was surprised about considering the situation. He tried so hard to not be as explosive, to reign in his emotions, for you. But his jealousy burned hot within his veins.
“Y/N. I’m asking you, as your man, to put some distance between you and Shinsou,” he lowly warned.
Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, but the words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Like hell I will. Hitoshi’s been here longer than you have by years. I’m not gonna drop him just because you feel insecure.”
That withered away any form of self-restraint Katsuki had left. He felt exposed and hurt. And dealt with that the best way he knew how.
His hazy brain clouded over with anger and he went on the defensive.
“I bet you want him.”
“What? No I don’t?”
“You’re probably sleeping with him behind my fucking back,” he dryly laughed. “Am I not good enough anymore? Is that it?”
You were quickly sobering up. “What the fuck is wrong with you!? Of course not! I’m not a cheater!”
“Then why won’t cut him off, damn it!?”
Your voices rose in volumes too high for comfort. The crackle in his palms didn’t scare you one bit, but it was enough for Kirishima and Mina to come in and try to separate you two.
You ignored their pleading and the two of your found each other in the other’s face.
“Why are you so jealous!?”
“BECAUSE HE’S TAKING YOU AWAY FROM ME!!”
“NO HE’S NOT!
“IT’S SO EASY FOR YOU TO DEFEND HIM AND PROBABLY JUST AS EASY FOR YOU TO SPREAD YOUR FUCKING LEGS—"
A resounding slap cut him short. That seemed to snap him out of whatever alcohol induced rage he was in. However, Bakugo only had a moment to register your expression of disgust before Kirishima pulled him away.
“Fuck you, asshole” was the last thing you said before Mina lead into the hallway.
Kirishima watched his friend’s breathing turn ragged with each puff.
“Come on, man. Let’s just—”
“FUCK!” Katsuki roared before throwing a nearby water bottle to the floor. He fisted his hair and clenched his teeth.
He messed up. Big time.
And as upset as he was with himself, he couldn’t help but be even angrier at the thought of who you’d run to first.
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Todoroki Shouto:
how blunt he is
he was a bit socially inept and you loved him for that
but sometimes, you get frustrated
todoroki does too because 9 times out of 10 he doesn’t understand why
when you get angry, he completely shuts down bc he doesn’t know how to handle it any other way
and it didn’t help that he was petty asf
~~~
“Okay.”
You looked up and folded your lips in a tight line. It was the same monotone answer he’d been giving you all day and it was getting on your nerves.
“Sho, baby, can you at least try and act like you somewhat care about this vacation we’re planning,” you said as sweetly as possible.
Although you were annoyed, you understood that things flew over your boyfriend’s head sometimes and, hopefully, a little nudge would point him in the right direction.
“I’m listening, prince(ss),” he dimly responded.
He didn’t bother to look up from the papers he was reading at the table and it made you huff. Folding up the magazine, you just stalked your way out of the kitchen.
“You know what? Don’t even bother. I’ll do it myself.”
That made Shouto look up. His brows furrowed in confusion and he caught your hand before you could completely pass by him. Why were you suddenly upset? He told you he was listening.  
“Hey, wait. What’s wrong? Did I do something?” he asked.
You let him pull you in between his legs. He looked genuinely lost and it was enough to soften your exterior.
“I just feel like you don’t care sometimes,” you said, deciding to just be blunt.
“Huh?” he hummed. “What do you mean?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know…it just seems like you don’t have an interest in anything I have to say if it doesn’t involve hero work, your family, or something like that.”
Todoroki took offense to that. Of course he cared about what you had to say. He loved you. Just because he wasn’t gripping on to every word you spoke in mundane life didn’t mean he didn’t care.
There were ways to express his thoughts, but Shouto wasn’t always the best at gently doing it.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t agree,” he said.
You looked off to the side for a second before looking down at him. “Well that’s how I feel,” you retorted.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re wrong.”
You watched him for a moment, waiting for him to explain himself. However, he just stared back at you as if there was nothing else left to say. The silence was sickening.
You snatched your hand out his grip. “Okay, Shouto,” you bit and left.
He hadn’t heard his first name in a while.
Your boyfriend dumbly blinked already feeling more lost. He didn’t understand why you were so angry.
He called Midoriya about it and was told he was being intolerant. The entire conversation honestly made him feel like an asshole and Todoroki didn’t like that at all. So he gave you some space before finding you in the kitchen again, this time equipped to right his wrongs—even though he still wasn’t entirely sure what he did.
He called your name once and instead of responding, you just kept going about your task. That sort of miffed him, but he tried again. This time, you hummed back but the tension behind it made him feel defensive for some odd reason.
“Can we talk about this morning?”
“What? Are my feelings suddenly valid to you now?” you sarcastically replied.
Todoroki raised a sharp brow at your attitude and decided he was over it already. Here he was trying to apologize, and you were being difficult. He wouldn’t fight with you over something so insignificant.
“Fine. When you’re done with your little tantrum, we can talk about this like adults.”
You’d never spun around so quickly. “Really, Todoroki?”
Last name basis. Petty.
But he was even pettier.
“Yes, really, [L/N].”
His half-lidded bored stare made your scalp prickle.
“Fine. Me and my little tantrum are gonna go somewhere and you can plan the vacation all by yourself like the adult you are.”
“Fine. I’d probably get it done faster anyways.”
You let out an offended gasp. “Fine!”
“Fine!” he tsked, crossing his arms.
You two looked away from one another and stomped out of the room in childish anger.
2K notes · View notes
floralseokjin · 4 years ago
Text
⤑ made-up love song i.
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Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.
Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…
pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028 
↪︎ chapter index
chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii  • ix • x • epilogue  (+ drabbles)
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You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year. 
No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car. 
You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot. 
You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror. 
“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably. 
You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am. 
There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out. 
“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason. 
You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger. 
When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–” 
He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.” 
The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.” 
You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car. 
“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.  
“What happened?” You asked hotly. 
He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”
“Were you on your phone?”
“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it. 
“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”
“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained  “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.” 
You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you. 
“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!
He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.” 
“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again. 
His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...” 
“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age. 
“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you! 
“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.” 
You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”
“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken. 
“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.” 
“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury. 
“No?” 
His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.” 
You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money. 
“But I did this.” 
He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom. 
“Wait,” he called out.
“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat. 
“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…” 
He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today. 
.
.
After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time. 
You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…
Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements – 
You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”  
Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you. 
You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”
“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?” 
“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?” 
He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”
Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous. 
“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.” 
You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”  
The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.” 
“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating. 
“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…” 
You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”
He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…” 
“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today. 
You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–
“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised. 
You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment. 
“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.” 
You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.” 
He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?” 
Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?” 
“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell? 
He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.” 
You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too.  Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’ 
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.” 
Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.” 
Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…” 
“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people. 
Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…” 
Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.” 
“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.” 
“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here? 
On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.” 
You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?” 
“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.” 
“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody. 
“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”
“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”
“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.” 
You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?” 
Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.” 
You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.” 
His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”
“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?” 
“Not too far, Miss.” 
He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.” 
He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight. 
.
.
You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be. 
After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house. 
She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.” 
You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.” 
“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”
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After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week. 
Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible. 
You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by. 
Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater. 
There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet… 
It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September. 
“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father. 
“Oh, hello again.” 
You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.
You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden? 
“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk. 
He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.” 
“What?” 
You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–
“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?” 
“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe. 
“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.” 
There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.” 
Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it. 
You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”
You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then. 
Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”
Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened. 
“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”
You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say. 
Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve. 
That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope. 
“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug. 
“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”
“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?” 
Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now. 
He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”
Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”
“Hm?”
That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.” 
His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.” 
You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you. 
“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”
Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too. 
He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course. 
You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny. 
Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”
He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”
“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.” 
“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in. 
You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.” 
He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”
“I didn’t want you to pay!” 
He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”  
“You’re calling me absurd?”
He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.” 
He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.” 
You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”
“Oh?” He seemed sceptical. 
You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too. 
He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.
“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover… 
“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself. 
You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask. 
“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”
No, neither were you. 
“I really am sorry about that.” 
He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?” 
“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…” 
You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious. 
He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.” 
Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.” 
He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”
You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him? 
“How will you get home?”
Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly. 
“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again. 
“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.” 
“Kid?” 
“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…
“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured. 
“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”
“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised. 
“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.” 
He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.” 
You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know. 
“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”
You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.
“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled. 
“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically. 
He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew. 
You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.” 
“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested. 
You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.
You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.” 
He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark… 
“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”
“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.” 
“I am.” 
“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it. 
“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.” 
“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.” 
No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.” 
He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.” 
“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise. 
He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.” 
You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously. 
.
.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.” 
“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you. 
“You were definitely flirting back.” 
You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.” 
She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.” 
It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing. 
“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?” 
“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully. 
“Find out tomorrow.” 
“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.” 
Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.” 
“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.
Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”
You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.” 
She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!” 
You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now? 
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Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months. 
Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant. 
You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it. 
You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?! 
Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you. 
It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”
You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…” 
“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”
“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near. 
With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed. 
But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point. 
The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her. 
“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.” 
Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave? 
“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”
Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”
“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside. 
You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here… 
“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home. 
Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like. 
“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out. 
“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.” 
She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever. 
You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name. 
“Miss. Y/L/N!”
You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave. 
“Hi, Arin,” you greeted. 
That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.” 
You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?” 
“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”
“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?” 
“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly. 
“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.” 
Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.” 
In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all. 
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” 
Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower.  You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say. 
“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head. 
He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he? 
“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”
He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.” 
She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”
He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.” 
You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”
Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone. 
“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.” 
You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen. 
“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that? 
You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!
That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you. 
You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?” 
His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.” 
“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.” 
“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”
“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant. 
“No.” So was he. 
“Mr. Kim.” 
“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face. 
“Tell me!” 
He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you. 
What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.” 
You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?” 
Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?” 
It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?” 
“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.” 
He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money. 
So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.) 
“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.” 
You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”  
He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.” 
You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.” 
He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”
Really? Interesting… “Mr –
“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.” 
You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.” 
He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”
You nodded. 
He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”
“How far?” Now you were too. 
“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife  his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?” 
“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine. 
“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?” 
You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude. 
“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?” 
That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay? 
You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.” 
“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself. 
That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible. 
What the hell was wrong with you?! 
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Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021
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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago
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Hi there, congrats for the 1500 subs. How about the bros reaction to an MC who's an empath?
Brothers with an MC Who is an Empath
This should not have been as hard as it was but maaan, my brain just wasn’t working. Finally got it done though!
Intro:
An Empath is essentially someone who is highly sensitive to outside stimuli like sounds, personalities, energies, emotions, or just hectic/chaotic environments. They tend to absorb the emotions of others into themselves because of this. Though their sensitivity can grant deeper understanding for others, it comes at the price of the Empath’s own emotional and physical health if not given enough time to decompress which can lead to feeling drained, irritable, depressed, or overwhelmed.
Lucifer
Oh boy, if there was ever any demon not in tune to his own emotions…
He started out legitimately not knowing what an "empath" was and frankly he didn't care to know. His main concern was just keeping the MC alive.
Though that didn't seem to be too hard because they apparently get tired quickly… or at least they had to take extended periods away from most of his brothers.
He wasn't sure why, he first assumed it was because they found his brothers annoying but that didn't seem to be the case either...
He'd see them grinning with Mammon after a jackpot, relaxing with Satan in silence, and even crying with Levi over things so niche and pointless he couldn’t imagine that they actually cared...
It wasn’t too long until they set their sights on him. 
They always seemed to know when he was stressed or when he needed to talk to someone. He'd even be embarrassed to admit there were days when he’d just hover somewhat close to them, face more or less slathered with "I really need to talk right now" but too proud to make the first move.
After some time, he decided to look up what an empath was again and it all clicked into place. They probably knew when he was tired because they could just sense it off of him.
And who knows how exhausting that must be for them...
After that little revelation he actually started paying more attention to his own health to keep it from spilling over to them, but he would still go to them to talk from time to time. He honestly never expected a human to become his closest confidant.
Mammon
Mammon has BIG energy. He’s one of those personalities that just brightens a room he walks in but damn… if he’s not a little exhausting to be around sometimes…
Truthfully, he was kind of into their whole “I know how you feel so you don’t have to say it” vibe though it was really confusing to start with...
On the one hand, they never made fun of him for his sensitive side. Not once. And they seemed pick up on the days where he wasn't feeling his best as well, which only made him happy and want spend more time with them.
But on the other hand, he'd be lying if he said that their need to recharge away from him didn't catch him off guard a lot... Hell, for the first few weeks of getting to know the MC he thought they didn't like him at all!
It took the MC sitting him down and explaining to him that they're more sensitive to things like lights, sounds, and emotions for him to kind of get the picture. It wasn’t that they didn’t like him, they just needed to be somewhere calm.
Cue a lot of “Okay human, I’ll be calm. Promise! Ya won’t even now I’m here!” in a well meaning, but pretty loud voice and not getting much better from there, bless his heart...
Even after he eventually gets the picture and stops hanging off of their leg, it does bum him out to be separated for however long it takes for them to get better (at worst, it can be days).
But he really gets excited like a puppy whenever they finally come back again! Big grins and lots of hugs (good luck peeling him off now).
Levi
Levi is... best taken in short bursts.
Though his personality isn’t big like Mammon’s, he does have a lot of lingering negativity around him. Not exactly his fault, being Envy and all, but not great for someone who’s sensitive to emotions.
In truth, Levi genuinely loves being around the MC because they “get” him even if they don’t get what’s happening.
While his brothers may roll their eyes or struggle to understand how he can put so much emotional investment into an anime or a character, the MC would always seem to feel and respect that his emotions were genuine and let him experience them without question.
… But at the same time, that sensitivity meant that they got carried in with him through his every emotion, good, bad, or somewhat erratic depending on the situation… 
Add to that his higher than usual need for validation, investment, and feedback due to his insecurity and unfortunately he’s easily the most emotionally draining person in the House...
It took some time to explain to Levi what an empath was and that their desired space wasn’t because there was something wrong with him or anything, they just needed breaks. Thankfully, being an introvert himself meant that Levi understood this a lot quicker than Mammon.
In truth, being with Levi could be fun and rewarding for both parties. During his high points, his happiness truly does shine like no other, just… don’t overdo it.
Satan
In the beginning, Satan was honestly pretty impressed how quickly the exchange student saw through his fake smiles. They’d know that there was no actual joy behind them and thus avoided him for the most part.
This was before they formed their pact so he was perfectly fine with that. Let them hide, that’s the smart idea.
But after getting to know them and going through the body-switch, he started to see that it was deeper than just some good intuition on their part. Something about them… reflected the people around them...
They appeared to be acutely aware of the emotion in a given person or a given room and reacted like they were soaking in the atmosphere they found themselves in. Taking it into themselves…
It truly confused him.
Satan is the picture of emotional control, it’s been taught to him again and again to always keep a good handle on himself because things go flying when he doesn’t. The idea of being so open to others just didn’t make much sense to him… 
Why would anyone want to live so dependent on the emotions of others? It sounded chaotic just to hear about it...
But after he opened up to them about his own inner doubts he started to think it wasn’t such a bad thing. They appeared to be equipped to help him navigate his own emotions, especially the new ones he didn’t have the best grasp on yet.
He later did his own research into human emotions, discovered empaths, and that put it all into perspective. Like Lucifer, he did his best not to overwhelm them after that but there was little worry about that anyway. Satan is, again, emotional control at its finest.
Asmodeus
Oh, Asmo picked up on their human’s little quirk relatively quickly compared to his brothers. Being emotionally observant is just part of what makes him so good at what he does.
Honestly, he enjoyed just watching them from afar… Watching the way their eyes lit up when talking to a cheerful Simeon or how huffy and frustrated they’d get along with Mammon when things weren’t going his way. It was cute to him, like a child playing “Pretend.”
Eventually, though, he started to notice that it went a lot deeper than mere imitation...
One day, Levi came home distraught about the tragic death of some voice actor he fancied and the MC was right along with him, crying as if that loss was theirs...
On another, Satan had spent the whole day silently fuming and the MC was a complete wreck, tense and on-edge for no other reason than the feeling of aggression in the air…
And crowds… crowded rooms seemed to be the death of them. So much noise and constant input, they’d have to leave so quickly…
Asmo saw all these things himself, without having to be told, and he became a refuge for them when things became too much. He has a big personality himself, but he could tone it down for a time and offer them a place away for a while.
If school, parties, or the brothers themselves just became too much, the MC could always go to Asmo’s room to vent like they let everybody else to with them. He’d keep the place quiet and calm and just help them sort things out...
Thank their father for Asmo’s observance.
Beelzebub
Legit the calmest, sweetest, nicest person to be around. Truly the best companion for an empathic MC to have.
Beel’s personality is positive, sweet, and (most importantly) stable. He’s not too bombastic nor too withdrawn, he’s not riddled with hidden stress or self-loathing, and he’s not even manipulative in any way, he’s just… Beel.
Am I saying that Beel is the MC’s emotional support demon? Yes. Yes I am.
Being around Beel is like hooking them up to a walking battery recharging station. Something about him just exudes warmth and comfort… They could be wrapped up in his arms for days and never say a word yet still be perfectly content...
Beel doesn't really mind them coming to him when distressed either because he likes being able to help them when they’re feeling drained. It makes him feel kind of special, they don’t seem to go to anyone else in quite the same way.
Usually, one of his brothers will be in a bad mood and the human will flock to Beel like a protective barrier. They'll hug him or trail along behind him like a lost puppy, which he thinks is very cute.
If they’re feeling really out of it, he’d carry them around on his back while they rest like he does for Belphie sometimes. Any time his brothers try to get too close to them or look like they’re going to bother them, he’ll just carry them away to some place quieter.
Though, the MC did pick up the deep sadness he felt for Lilith and Belphie (while he was gone) from time to time.... Which, considering how kind and comforting he usually is, just makes that dip in mood all the more painful and distressing for them. Poor baby… 
Belphegor
Belphie is another calm personality to have around, kind of similar to Beel, but since he's more prone to sadness and irritability he doesn't make the best companion…
If Beel is comfort, then Belphie is repose. Relaxed and peaceful, but also languid and sluggish… When Beel isn't around, then he makes a decent second, but only on good days.
Belphie has a mixed opinion on their uncanny ability to pick up on his feelings… He tries his best to be “mysterious” so having someone who can read him like a book gets under his skin just a little…
But he also really likes how much it helps them get to know him and understand where he’s coming from (being the youngest, he isn’t as used to being heard by anybody other than Beel). So, he’s very conflicted…
It didn’t help at all when it came to light that the MC could legitimately tell that he felt very hostile and angry towards them while he was still in the attic. When he asked why they helped him anyway, they told him so that they could make Beel happy again, regardless of how he felt about them which... ouch...
As if he could feel any worse about that particular incident… They could feel how guilty he was about that… right?
Even if they can’t he makes sure that they know that he’s sorry and he won’t do it again. Probably the lil’shit.
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