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xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years ago

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🔥You Are Human, And Damn It, You Are An Important One!🔥

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m back! It looks like my tags finally decided to sort themselves out so I wanted to (finally) post a new story! I’m still working on requests though, so don’t worry, those are coming soon! I just wanted to post this in the mean time while I edit those and test if my tags are really fixed on one of my originals so that any requested fics will actually be seen later should an error occur. Thank you so much for your continued support and patience, you guys are so amazing! I hope this makes up for my temporary hiatus! This one actually has a bit of a heavier tone to it but I think I’m finally happy with it! Thanks again for the support, and don’t be afraid to talk to me! Shoot me a message or just spew random bullshit and I’ll still respond 😂. Enjoy!

(Warning: themes of non-con & abuse. This is set in a brothel, but there’s nothing explicit, it’s just mentioned or implied. Just wanted to put it out there! Viewer discretion advised!)

🐉Song Recommendation: “The Gardener” By: Sarah Sparks 🐉

Word Count: ~7k

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It was that time of year. The time of year that Levi hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It was the time of year in which merchants from all around would come down to the Underground City, away from the prying eyes of the Military Police, and sell anything and everything to the nobles who weren’t exactly looking for orthodox materials. The normally filthy, mostly empty streets would be filled with members of the wealthy, dripping in jewelry, cash, and lavish clothing as they paraded around the sorry excuse for a city, boasting of their wealth and privilege as they bought enough food and luxurious goods to feed three times the number of people in the Underground while sharing none of it.

The days were starting to blur together. Levi honestly couldn’t tell if it had been a day, a week, or a month as the drugs in his system continued to work just like the brothel owners wanted them to, rendering him practically inoperative and perfect for use. His head pounded, swimming with confused thoughts. His gaze was unfocused, warped, and his whole body felt suffocatingly hot despite his lack of cover, his legs shifting as his body instinctively searched for a relief he didn’t even want. But that was exactly how they wanted him.

The sound of his door being unlocked made him look up slowly, his eyes taking a few seconds to fully focus on the man standing in the entrance of his room, a wide, malicious grin on his face. Levi couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust. The man smelled of sweat and stale alcohol, and his unkempt appearance made Levi itch, even when drugged out of his mind.

“Oh, Levi…” the man cooed, making Levi shudder. “I have another customer for you.”

Even though Levi had been through this time and time again, even though he had been trapped in his filthy room since he was caught stealing from a merchant friend of the brothel owner at age twenty, even though the drugs in his system were making his body scream for what this new customer could give him, he still couldn’t help the wave of dread that washed through him, the fear. Levi didn’t fear much, having grown up on the streets of the Underground alone since he was abandoned by Kenny at the age of ten, but this? This he was scared of.

He thought back to the wretched old man that had abandoned him as a small child and wondered what he would think of him now. Would he be disgusted? Unsurprised? Angry? Not that it mattered. Levi knew he would never see him again. But even so, his brain couldn’t help itself from going down those roads, asking questions of “what if?” no matter how many times he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. He was just some bastard thug turned whore in the Underground. Nobody was going to even remember him, let alone care about who he was or who he may be in the future.

Levi was once again brought out of his daze when the pig in the doorway moved to the side, letting a noble woman saunter into the room. She had a wicked grin on her face as she approached him, ignoring the brothel owner as he slammed the door shut behind her, giving them some privacy. She was covered in glittering jewelry, and although the dress she wore was extravagant, it was very tight fitting and low cut, barely considered decent, her large breasts one breath away from spilling out over the top. Her hair was pinned up in a lavish braided style, twisting and coiling tightly, and held together with real gold pins that Levi knew must’ve cost a fortune.

“~Well, hello sexy,” the woman purred as she approached the raven-haired man.

Levi had to force himself not to grimace, even with the effect of the drugs, when she slithered her way over his thighs, her hands reaching up to cup his face. The smell of whatever custard perfume she had on was overwhelming, making his eyes water and his throat close up. Her hands felt clammy from all of the lotions and creams she had slathered over her skin to make it look shinier, making them feel like dead fish rubbing against his cheeks.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask my name?” The woman demanded in a sickly sweet voice, making Levi close his eyes in barely suppressed agony.

“What is your name?” Levi asked in a low voice. He felt the woman preen above him at the sound of his voice, knowing she thought his deep tone was for setting the mood rather than the effect of his despair.

“My name is Lady Clarissa! What’s your name, hmmm?”

“Levi,” He said quietly.

“Oooh, Leevviiii, I like that,” Lady Clarissa practically moaned. “Say, Levi, you were quite expensive. That must mean you're really good at what you do. I can already tell that you fulfill my personal tastes in terms of appearance, so why don’t you convince me of the rest and give me a good time. Don’t make me regret spending my good money on you. Don’t make me punish you.”

Levi gritted his teeth when she ground her hips into him, trying his hardest not to fight back. He knew it would be difficult, the drugs making his movements and mental processes much slower, but at that moment, all he wanted to do was shove her off of him. Swallowing the bile in his throat, Levi reached for her as she leaned down to force her tongue into his mouth.

It was that time of year. The time of year that (Y/N) hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It took everything in her to avoid groaning in annoyance as the people she was expected to call her friends dragged her down into the filthy Underground City for a day of “fun”. (Y/N) would much rather be back at home, reading a book in the library, or relaxing with the horses in the barn, or secretly practicing her sword fighting skills with the guards of their estate. But her father had forced her to go when her friends had shown up at the house, begging for her to come with them. He claimed she needed to get her priorities straight and actually present herself, show the honor and pride that came with being part of the (L/N) family. (Y/N) thought there was very little honor and pride in parading their wealth around like they owned the world, especially in front of people who constantly struggled to survive on a daily basis.

(Y/N) walked slowly down the worn cobblestone streets, suppressing the urge to gag at the sight of other nobles walking around, looking and acting as if they were rulers of the walls. She barely looked at anything, only stopping to occasionally buy food when she noticed the hungry children hanging around, looking for a scrap to steal. She could tell they were wary of her, but she never stopped trying, always offering them the food in some way, even if it meant leaving it in a secluded space for them to find later.

Her friends constantly tried to get her to engage, running up to her with crystal jewelry, silk clothing, and delectable foods, attempting to entice her, only to get pushed away. (Y/N) wanted no part in any of it. Even her attire spoke volumes about how little she wanted to be there. She knew that to the people of the Underground, the dress she wore would be considered something of utmost value, but when compared to the nobles around her, she looked underdressed and plain. She wore nothing more than a subtle red dress covered with a black leather jacket, paired with black combat boots and matching gloves, no jewelry to be found except for the simple white earrings she wore in her lobes.

Her father had been less than pleased with her appearance, but stopped arguing when she announced she was leaving, the lord just happy she had at least agreed to go to the festival. She knew he was disappointed in her, annoyed that she wasn’t like the other noble ladies who loved to flaunt their luxurious lifestyles and bend to the every whim of the lords around them, looking to marry early for money and power. (Y/N) wouldn’t be surprised if the entire reason her father wanted her here was so she could possibly win over the affections of a single lord milling about, one that was rich and influential. It was for that possibility alone that (Y/N) had originally thought to wear something that made her look underdressed, having to swallow the bile that rose in her throat at the prospect of catching some snobby noble’s attention.

“Yeah, her name is (Y/N)! She’s the one right over there, I think she could use a good time.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up when she heard her name, her eyes shooting over to where her friends were standing in a group in front of a large building. All of them were looking at her, covering their faces with their hands to hide their giggles. Dread filled her to the brim when she saw the sign in front of the building, her face paling in horror.

“That one, eh? I think we can arrange something like that,” the brothel owner said, a smug smile on his lips as he stared at her, his grin only widening as her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. “Don’t worry, I’ve got one in particular that could give you a good ride. He’s expensive since he’s my most popular, but he’s worth it.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue, her cheeks on fire as her brain fought to think of something, anything to get her out of this situation. She didn’t want to fuck some random stranger for no reason, but she especially didn’t want to have sex in a brothel. She found them vulgar, repulsive, and horrible. The way they treated their “workers” was appalling. Just as the words finally reached the tip of her tongue, one of the girls she had come to the festival with cut off her impending argument.

“Damn, I’m jealous! If he’s that good I’m almost tempted to take him myself. But she needs this. She hasn’t loosened up the entire time we’ve been here and I think this might help. She’ll take him.”

The greasy man smiled and wrote her name down, happily accepting the roll of cash her friend handed him before getting up, supposedly to let the man know that he had another customer on the way. (Y/N) tried to escape when she could, but her friends rushed up and caught her before she could slip into the shadows, dragging her over to the brothel and shoving her towards an open door where the brothel owner stood, a creepy smile still plastered on his face.

“Guys! I don’t want this!” (Y/N) whispered frantically as she was dragged towards her doom.

“It doesn’t matter if you want it or not, you need it!” One of her friends said with a laugh. “Besides, you’re going to have a fun time. Don’t make us regret spending that money for you!”

(Y/N) was practically thrown into the room, stumbling as she fought to catch her balance, before the door was slammed shut behind her, the loud sound of the lock being latched reverberating around the room with the finality of a death toll. Huffing in anger, (Y/N) stood and brushed herself off, smoothing out her dress and straightening back up to her full height, fighting off the panic slithering up her spine.

A low groan of pain coming from behind her made her whirl around in surprise, her eyes landing on a shorter, pale skinned man with stunning silver eyes and raven black hair. Gods he looked pathetic. She could definitely tell he was attractive, it made sense now as to why he was a popular choice, but he looked sickly, his cheeks hollowed out, dark circles under his eyes, and a muscled yet neglected body starting to wear thin from years of hunger and constant overuse. The sight made her want to be sick. How could anybody be cruel enough to force themselves onto this obviously abused man? How could anyone willingly pay money to fuck him rather than help him?

“Um, hello,” (Y/N) said quietly. “W-What’s your name?”

The man raised an eyebrow, not used to the soft, kind, almost shy way she asked for his name. The women and occasional men he dealt with most of the time were demanding, controlling, and sadistic, knowing they paid for a man they could use, and their voices usually projected that. Yet, this woman looked as if she had been forced to do this, further supported by the way she had been nearly thrown into the room by whom he assumed was her friends.

“Levi,” he said quietly, waiting for the usual routine to start, no matter how much his gut twisted in disgust at the thought.

“Hi, Levi, I’m (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)...” Levi murmured softly, training himself to memorize it despite his swimming brain, knowing she would want him to scream it out later. Whether in pain or in pleasure, he wasn’t sure yet.

“Um…” (Y/N) was about to speak, her mind scrambling for something to say when her eye caught sight of a large bruise on his neck. Her eyes widened and suddenly started scanning his entire body, her stomach roiling more and more the longer she stared. Now that she was really paying attention, (Y/N) could see painful bites, hickeys, and splotchy bruises littering his neck, jaw, chest, and thighs. Her eyes narrowed on the long, bloody scratches running down the length of his chest and back, and she noticed blooming red patches of skin all over him that were raw and aching from being slapped hard and rough over and over again.

He was wearing a loose pair of worn boxers as his only cover, and (Y/N) could only imagine what other horrors the thin cloth was hiding. Glancing down, she saw him shift uncomfortably, his boxers tented by his arousal. The sight made her growl in anger, knowing that to keep him going after he had already had so many customers for the day, a drug was being used to make him insatiable, forcing him past the point of pain and probably clouding his judgement and mental process as well. It made her want to go cut up the brothel owner and serve him to a pig.

Without thinking, (Y/N) rushed to him, reaching out to him, only to freeze when he flinched. She heard him curse at the involuntary movement, knowing it was his job to appear as unaffected and sexually appealing as possible, and it made her heart clench even harder, her hatred for this place and the people who ran it increasing tenfold.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) immediately slowed her movements, trying to appear as calm and unhurried as possible. Her gaze softened and glazed with unshed tears when he closed his eyes, his arms reaching out as he prepared for her to sit on his lap and have her way with him like she knew every other man and woman who used him did. Gritting her teeth against the fury she felt, she carefully slid her way across his thighs. She felt him force himself to relax under her as he leaned forward to let her kiss him.

When he felt nothing, and heard something click, Levi cracked open his eyes in curiosity, only to have them fly open all the way when he felt something cool and wet against his neck. Looking down at the woman in his arms, his lips parted in shock, watching in confused awe as she leaned back and soaked a small cloth in some water from a bottle, rinsing the fresh blood from the fabric. Looking to the side, he saw a small first aid kit by her feet, the container open to reveal a variety of medical tools inside.

(Y/N) leaned forward again, raising the towel to his neck to dab at his abrasions, washing them carefully, reverently, almost... lovingly. Levi opened and closed his mouth but no words came out as she continued to work on him, delicately cleaning his jaw and neck before carefully moving on to his chest. Was this some kind of strange ritual she always performed during sex? Did she just find him dirty and want to clean him up before putting her lips or her pussy on his skin? His mind was running a million miles a minute as she worked on him in silence, only pausing when he hissed quietly at the feeling of his gashes being washed.

(Y/N) frowned as she gently swiped the cloth along the red gouges in his skin. They were deep, most likely caused by the long, sharp nail extensions some ladies liked to wear, or the dull blade of a man with violent tendencies. It didn’t surprise her, a lot of the men and women who used people like this did have sadistic qualities, but it didn’t help to quell the now roaring fire in her blood, wanting nothing more than to fight against the injustice of this man.

“W-What are you doing?” Levi finally managed to ask.

“Cleaning your wounds.”

“Why? Is this some kind of-”

“Preparation? No. We aren’t going to do anything. I just want to help your injuries heal.”

Levi felt like his brain was full of static, like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. He wasn’t complaining, far from it, but he couldn’t get a reading on this woman. Why would she, a noble from the surface, want to help him, a hopeless whore from the Underground?

“Wha-”

“Before you ask what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I didn’t even want to do this. I was forced to come to this festival because my father wants me to become more of a proper noble woman. But since I wasn’t too thrilled about having to be here, the people I came with thought I could use an opportunity to loosen up, and paid for me to do this with you in the hopes that I’d start having fun with them afterwards. But I have no intention of doing any of that. I hate how everyone in the Underground is treated like shit, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of someone who obviously isn’t in control of his situation. I just want to help.”

Levi closed his mouth, all of his protests dying on his tongue. He still had questions, a lot of them, but he decided those could wait, her explanation making him feel surprisingly relaxed for someone who had trained himself to never take the word of a noble at face value. He had never met anyone like her. Even before he was forced to whore himself out, all he had ever known of nobles was their complete lack of humility and egotistical sense of self-importance.

It was silent for a moment, but this time, the silence was more comfortable, both of them starting to relax a little as (Y/N) continued to patch him up. Levi felt himself loosen up a bit, his muscles unwinding as his hands settled on her waist, keeping her securely balanced on his lap as she worked. Pride swirled in (Y/N)’s chest as she felt his tense muscles soften, her eyes sparkling as she started to work her way towards earning his trust.

“What’s your happiest memory?” (Y/N) asked suddenly.

Levi quirked an eyebrow in suspicion, “Why should I tell you, brat?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head and stifling a giggle at the nickname. “I only asked because I figured we may as well talk while we do this. Not only that, I feel like you could use some happiness right now. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you don’t want to talk to me, you don’t have to.”

Levi was silent for a minute, the cogs in his mind turning as he tried to make what he believed to be the right decision despite the fog clouding his judgement. Just as she had promised, (Y/N) waited patiently, not pressuring him to answer, or even bringing up another question. She merely sat in silence, her clear (e/c) eyes narrowed on his injuries as she worked to make him feel better.

“There was a time when I was with my friend Farlan, a few years back. We were doing a job, trying to get rid of a troublesome merchant for a client of ours when we found out the merchant had a cat. We were hiding around the corner, waiting to strike when that damn cat jumped up onto Farlan’s lap. I’m fine with cats, but that was the day we found out Farlan had some kind of allergy to them. He was trying to hold back his sneezes but finally lost control right when the merchant came around the corner, and Farlan ended up sneezing really violently in his face. That merchant got so scared he must’ve jumped at least three feet in the air, and even managed to piss himself before he took off. We still had to finish him off later, but in that moment, when Farlan was mortified and our target was running for the hills because of a cat induced sneeze, I couldn’t help but laugh a little.”

(Y/N) had paused in her work to listen to him, and couldn’t help but smile when he finished his story. Going back to work, (Y/N) didn’t ask what happened to Farlan, not wanting to drag him back down after she had finally gotten him to talk to her, about something so personal no less.

“What about you?” Levi asked.

“Hmm, I think I’d have to say when I got my horse for my birthday,” (Y/N) said. “I was never around the horses, wasn’t allowed to be in the barn because it wasn’t “proper for a lady”. But I loved them, loved seeing them on the streets when other nobles would come visit my father or when the soldiers from the Survey Corps would come back from a mission. I couldn’t stay away, so no matter how much my father tried to squash my love of them, it just wouldn’t happen. My mother eventually convinced him to let it go, and surprised me with a little chestnut filly that I named Sashay when I was about sixteen years old. Now, she’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything together, and she’s the only one who doesn’t try to force me to be something I’m not. Aside from the royal guards, I guess. They learned a long time ago to stop trying to get me to sit still and look pretty when I beat all of them in the sword fighting ring.”

Levi’s brows shot up into his hair at that, his lips parting in surprise. “You know how to sword fight?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, not what you were expecting, huh?”

“No,” Levi said. “I’ve never heard of a noble woman who could fight, let alone with a blade. Are you any good?”

“I tend to think so, but that all depends on who I’m up against,” (Y/N) said with a cheeky smile.

For some reason, Levi couldn’t help but smile back for the first time in years. His lips felt chapped and strained from disuse, but it felt good, a light feeling flooding his chest with warmth. “You said earlier that your horse’s name is Sashay,” Levi said, suddenly changing the topic.

“Mm hm.”

“That’s weird.”

(Y/N) giggled at his bluntness, making another fluttering feeling swirl in his chest. He had never met anyone other than Farlan who saw his language as something other than rude.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” (Y/N) said. “But I named her that because she is a sassy chestnut mare. I like to imagine that if she were human, she’d be someone you wouldn’t want to mess with, someone who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, but would do so with a spicy attitude. So I named her accordingly.”

Levi huffed a laugh at her response but almost immediately regretted it when the movement of his chest caused the rough gauze at her fingertips to brush against his injuries a little harder than before, the stinging sensation making him hiss in pain.

“Sorry!” (Y/N) said, quickly retracting her hands and holding them up, waiting for him to give her the signal to continue.

“Not your fault,” Levi mumbled, motioning that it was alright for her to get back to work. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I said that before.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me. I want to do this.”

Levi wanted to ask her why but remembered what she had told him at the start of this and decided to trust her word, swallowing the question and instead changing topics. “Why do you even have this? Do you always just carry a first aid kit around?”

“Only when I come to the Underground. I want to have it available for those who really need it.”

“You do know that at least half of the people down here would kill you without a second thought to get to that medicine. Or they’d kill you if they thought you were pitying them.”

“I know, but I’d like to think I can handle myself a bit more than the average person. Even so, I usually keep it hidden unless I really want or need to use it on someone, and it’s only for quick patch-ups anyway. I can’t really fix anything major.”

(Y/N) finally finished with his front and carefully slid off of his thighs, moving slowly to begin working on his back. She made sure he was okay with everything she was doing before settling herself down onto the edge of the bed behind him, her hands reaching up to start her work once more.

Levi wanted to know more about her. He felt as if he could talk to her for hours, as if he had known her for years. He wanted to know what made her laugh, what made her cry, what her vision was for the future. It was insane, so much so that Levi idly wondered if he’d fallen off the deep end. But he couldn’t deny it. She was just too intriguing, so surprisingly kind, so genuine.

What was your childhood like? What are your favorite things to do? Do you come down here often? When will I see you again?

The questions continued to rattle around in Levi’s head as they once again lapsed into a comfortable silence but he forced all of them back, not wanting to seem either too desperate to get to know her, or be seen as coming on too strong.

After debating with himself for a while, Levi finally settled on, “You’ve mentioned your father a lot, and how he doesn’t want you to be yourself.”

(Y/N) tensed a little, her face twisted in a grimace behind Levi’s back. “Yeah… he used to be better about it, but ever since my mother died, he’s been like a tyrant. He’s upset he didn’t get a son in the first place, but now that he’s stuck with me for a daughter, he’s even more disappointed that I’m not someone he can easily make profits off of by marrying me off to someone. Not only have I been adamant about not allowing it, but no nobleman wants a woman who can think for herself. A woman who can ride a horse, go toe to toe with her soldiers, has an opinion, and is knowledgeable about current conflicts. They want someone who will dress up all pretty for them and be in bed, ready to satisfy them when they get home from gambling and drinking all day while sitting on their parents’ money.”

Levi scoffed and (Y/N) huffed in agreement. “I’m just not that kind of person. Every suitor that has ever met me has run away from my casual attire and sailor’s mouth.”

“Your father wasn’t like this when your mother was alive?” Levi asked.

“He was, but he wasn’t as bad. My parents were in an arranged marriage, but they got along alright. At least my father loved my mother enough to listen to her most of the time when she told him to lay off of me. I honestly think she’s the reason why I have such a strong fighting spirit.”

“I’m sorry she’s gone,” Levi said awkwardly, not used to providing words of comfort.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) said genuinely, a warm smile gracing her beautiful features.

“I didn’t know my mother that well,” Levi said haltingly, still unsure why he felt comfortable telling her about things he hadn’t even talked to Farlan about. “She died of a disease when I was four years old. She was a prostitute, like me, so I never knew my father. When she died, I was picked up by a man named Kenny, who I thought might’ve been my father for a short while, but as I grew older, I realized he wasn’t. I don’t have any proof, I just know. When he abandoned me at ten, I was alone for a few years before I met Farlan.”

“So… you didn’t get stuck doing this because of your mother?” (Y/N) asked carefully, almost afraid to ask in case it made him shy away from her.

“No,” Levi said slowly. “I was twenty years old when I was caught stealing from a rich friend of this brothel owner. I had made a mistake and there was no way out. He figured out who I was, a thug who was known at the time for carrying out favors for people, whether that meant stealing or killing depended on how much they were willing to pay. Unfortunately, this led them to Farlan, and he gave me a choice. Me, or my best and only friend.”

“And you chose to save your friend at the expense of yourself,” (Y/N) finished for him in a hoarse whisper, filled with horror and unbridled fury at what this man had been through. She figured she should’ve been alarmed, he had just admitted that he had blood on his hands. He was a thief, a thug, a criminal, a murderer. But (Y/N) knew those things were nearly requirements for living in the Underground and no matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t think of anything that would make this man deserve what he was going through.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to say something just as she put the last bandage in place when a loud pounding on the door startled them both. “Time’s up, you two!” The brothel owner shouted through the door.

(Y/N) shot up from the bed and rushed around to where the water and first aid kit sat, quickly packing up the little box of supplies and splashing her face with water, trying to make herself look sweaty enough to look convincing. Once everything had been packed away, (Y/N) stood and shrugged off her leather jacket, throwing it to him.

“Here, take this, it’ll keep your boss from seeing the bandages and trying to get rid of them. It’ll also give your injuries a little more protection from the bacteria in this room.”

Levi wanted to refuse, tell her he couldn’t accept a gift like this, even if it was temporary, but no words would come out as he watched the beautiful woman in front of him mess up her hair and swipe her fingers across her lips, trying to make herself look as wrecked as possible. When she finally looked the part enough to seem convincing, (Y/N) made her way to the door, turning one last time before she opened it to throw him a wink and a sweet smile.

“~Goodbye Levi, I hope we can see each other again soon.”

The lilt in her voice was fake, an act for anyone who may be listening on the other side of the door, meant to be taken as a sickly promise of more sexual endeavors to come, but he could feel the genuine emotion in her statement.

“I hope so too,” Levi said quietly after she had already left, the once comforting quiet of his room now making him feel lonely and empty.

The sound of pounding on his door woke Levi abruptly, making the raven-haired man growl in anger and annoyance. It was rare that the poor man got to sleep, not only because customers could come in at almost any time, day or night, but also because of the horrible insomnia that often plagued him. It made him even more irritable to be woken up, his body sore and his mind groggy as another round of pounding roused him further and prompted him to swing his legs over the side of the small cot he was provided when not busy fucking, and make his way to the door.

“What?” Levi snapped when he swung open the door, genuinely surprised that the pig who owned him hadn’t just burst into his room like he always did, raving about yet another customer for Levi.

“Get your shit, you’re going to the surface.”

Levi blinked. This had to be some kind of joke. The brothel owner never let anyone under his foot leave the brothel, let alone the Underground. Even the highest class noble women couldn’t request for him to come to them, the old man not trusting his prostitutes to be sent back. Especially Levi.

“Oi, your ears gone to shit now? Grab your pathetic bullshit and get out of my sight,” the man snarled, his small, watery eyes narrowed on Levi like he was the scum of the world.

Shaking himself out of it, Levi didn’t hesitate for another moment, rushing back into his room to grab the pitifully few things he had with him, including the leather jacket he had gotten from (Y/N), draping it over his shoulders to hide his healing injuries just in case it was a trick. The festival was still going on afterall, this could just be some ruse the old man set up to make the experience more interesting for the men and women who paid for him.

When Levi returned, the man pulled a gun from his jacket pocket and jerked his head, signaling Levi to follow him. Levi knew better than to risk running. In his full health he could’ve easily escaped from the man’s clutches, but with little more than a half hour of rest, his injured body, weak muscles, and the remnants of the drugs still working through his system, Levi didn’t trust himself to outrun a bullet, and knew the pig wouldn’t hesitate to fire, no matter how valuable Levi was to him.

Even though Levi kept expecting the brothel owner to turn down a secluded street and lead him right into an ambush or trick of some sort, he never did, leading Levi right to the stairs exiting the Underground. When they reached the guards at the base of the stairs, the man took two slips of paper from the inner pocket of his worn brown coat and showed it to the guard. When he was cleared to continue on, the brothel owner turned and motioned for Levi to stay close as he stomped his way up the stairs, grumbling incoherently to himself all the while.

Breaching the surface, Levi brought an arm to his face, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the sun as it attacked his face with warm, bright light. He eventually got used to it, slowly lowering his arm and rushing to catch up with his boss, who was impatiently grunting for him to hurry up.

Passing through what appeared to be a busy market square, Levi followed the brothel owner along the lively cobblestone streets until they reached a quieter part of the town, stopping along the edge of a beautiful flower field, the grassy meadow filled with colorful blossoms that secretly took Levi’s breath away.

The sound of horse hooves caught his attention, and Levi looked up only to have the air fly from his lungs when (Y/N)’s bright face came into view, the stunning woman seated astride whom he assumed to be Sashay and flanked by two armed men.

“Right on time,” the brothel owner grumbled, his little pig eyes narrowing when he saw her passive aggressive smile.

“Of course I’m on time, this is my deal, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man growled. “Are you sure you want this one? He’s my most popular, I’d hate to lose him.”

“Yes, he’s the one I want. Besides, I believe the money I’ve paid you has far exceeded the profit you have earned from having him around. I’m sure you will be able to manage.”

The man sneered at her but didn’t respond, using the muzzle of the gun to push Levi forward and digging in his pocket to fish out the same pieces of paper he had shown the guards on the stairs, handing them to (Y/N).

“Thank you, sir. I believe we are done here.”

The brothel owner slunk off, casting dark looks at her but refusing to argue as he hunkered off to head back down to the Underground, where he would continue to rot like the rat he was. Levi watched him go before turning to (Y/N), surprised by the bright smile she flashed him when he met her gaze.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

(Y/N) smiled even wider and held up the pieces of paper she had been handed. One of them was the file labeling him as a slave to the brothel owner, keeping him from escaping, and the other was a bill of sale. His eyes widened when he saw her signature on the bottom of both pages, officially registering her as his new owner. He opened his mouth, about to speak when she took both pages in her hands and ripped them in half, letting the torn pages float onto the street below, forgotten, useless.

“There, you’re free now.”

Levi was at a loss for words, his mouth gaping open. “(Y/N)? What-”

“Before you ask me what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your life, your sacrifice, your pain, and I decided I could do something about it. You are human, and damn it, you are an important one! I couldn’t just leave you there. Now, you won’t have to work for anyone but yourself. You won’t have to cater to anyone else’s needs and you can fulfill whatever dreams you have.”

“But, that must’ve cost you a fortune, to cover more than the amount of money he’s made off of using me? What about-”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Levi. I want to use my funds for good, put them towards the people who need it the most. That includes you. Especially you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to stay in that shit hole for even a second longer than necessary.”

“What do I do now, then?” Levi asked, trying to focus on keeping his voice steady.

“Well, you can do whatever you want now. You’re a free man, you can find a house and settle down somewhere, or you can go back to the Underground and pick up your life where you left off. You can join the military, or you can start a small business here in the square. It’s anything you want. You get to choose your life now.”

“And what if I don’t want to do any of those things?”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that flashed across her face then, her heart filling with warmth. “Like I said, it’s your choice, you can do whatever you want, carve your own path, but if you want to come with me, you’re always welcome to.”

Levi’s lip twitched and he took a step forward, reaching up to pat Sashay’s muzzle as he got closer. “Alright, I’ll follow you.”

(Y/N) beamed before turning around to nod at each one of her guards, dismissing them. When they had left, presumably returning to (Y/N)’s family estate, she reached down for him, her hand extended for him to take. Placing his rough palm into her warm hand, he allowed her to help him up into the saddle behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep himself secure as (Y/N) kicked Sashay into an easy canter. Sighing blissfully, Levi let himself relax, his chin coming down to rest on (Y/N)’s shoulder as they made their way home, together.

Levi had never expected to see the day when he would willingly go with a noble, but then again, he never thought he’d ever meet a noble like (Y/N). Now, as he felt her warmth soak into his chest, he knew he’d made the right decision.

Levi finally felt the remnant effects of the drugs in his system fade away as the sun beams broke through the fluffy clouds in the sky, leaving his mind clear. He was making this decision all on his own, nothing left to impair his judgement, and no matter what, he knew he would never regret the path he chose to take just so long as (Y/N) stayed by his side.

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izzabeean · 4 years ago

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Chapter 9 : Anticipation

SUMMARY

Ushijima makes an appearance at your group outing, and you try to ignore his presence. But, of course, it’s easier said than done in this case.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 3,344

content : profanity, mild violence, depiction of injuries

tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : Is the world so small that Y/N keeps running into Ushijima? Perhaps in this story, yes. This week has been a bit slow creatively for me, I don't feel my writing is the strongest in this chapter. But here we are, things are heating up and I'm happy to provide.

Post Thursday evenings PST, if not latest by Friday.

masterlist

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Everything feels so surreal as you lock eyes with Ushijima from across the table. He doesn’t smile or say anything, he just looks at you with his empty gaze like this is the first time meeting. Ever. Your heartbeat starts to thump faster conjuring up a lump in your throat that cannot be swallowed. Your breathing is shallow and your hands start to sweat as you dig your nails into your legs.

Why didn’t you turn around when your instincts told you to?

Why did you talk yourself into thinking this was a good idea?

However, for some reason, here you are. The sequence of events leading up to this point doesn’t make any sense. Even when you were dating, you wouldn’t run into him this much, so why now? Why all these dumb coincidences? There’s no room for you to heal when you keep seeing him like this.

“Hi,” you squeal, temporarily incapacitated by the confused looks from your other groupmates.

But your high pitch voice produces shockwaves through Oikawa’s system as you quickly introduce him and Iwaizumi to which Sara introduces Ushijima to all three of you. Then it becomes apparent that Ushijima hasn't said anything to Sara about you.

It’s sublime how quickly you push down the devastation bubbling at the surface and you wonder how it is even possible for you to force a smile in Sara’s direction. Clearing your throat you take a seat. Ushijima has stopped staring now and takes a swig of the chilled beer sitting in front of him. Your mouth feels dry from the nerves that are trying to drag your spirits down. If you were going to survive this torture, you’re most definitely not going to be sober. Grabbing the waiter's attention, you order yourself a beer as you feel yourself on the brink of a heart attack.

“You ok?” Oikawa mumbles knowing well that turning to your least favorite drink is a bad sign. It’s very clear to him this evening isn't going to go very well, seeing as you are already on edge from Ushijima’s surprise appearance.

“Mhm,” you hum shooting him a smile. “I’m fine. Totally chill.”

“You know, we can leave,” Oikawa whispers. “You’re not obligated to be here.”

And let him win? you think. I don’t think so.

“No, I’m fine,” you lie, biting your lip. It’s no time for you to concede, you just gotta ride this one out, show him how much better you’re doing without him. It’s the only thing to get back at him for everything so grossly unforgivable that he’s done.

The waiter returns with your drink placing it down in front of you. Nothing has looked so relieving and thirst-quenching before; the cold and crisp-looking glass filled to the top of light amber liquid with a dollop of airy foam. You pick it up and throw it back, chugging the heavy and sour alcohol. Then you think, maybe you shouldn’t have done that as you strike the glass down on the table. Licking your lips, you notice the startled looks everyone gives you at your uncharacteristic action.

“Should we order food,” Sara interrupts the weird tension which segues everyone back to talking amongst themselves.

Your stomach starts to swirl as you’ve come to realize that drinking that beer was probably the worst thing you could do while it’s empty. But as you study the menu, nothing seems to scream appetizing. Not when you can see in your peripheral Ushijima and Sara sharing a menu while discussing what they want to order. It makes you sick.

The restaurant is loud, but your thoughts are louder as you sit there wondering if anyone else can hear them. It hurts to see him here in front of you beside her. She most definitely doesn’t know about your history with Ushijima just by the way she’s acting around him. Sara doesn’t seem maniacal enough to do something so disrespectful to someone she barely knows. For god's sake, she invited you here. Why would she want you here if she knew? To rub it in that she’s Ushijima’s girlfriend. Doubtful.

Maybe Oikawa was right all along about Ushijima not being how you perceived him to be. Maybe, just maybe you honestly, you were blinded the entire time. And now you were finally seeing him for who he truly is.

You were scared to admit it. That if you did, your year together means nothing when it still meant so much to you. But in this case, actions speak louder than words and most definitely Ushijima’s actions are very clear.

“I'm going to step out for a smoke. Do you need some fresh air?” Iwaizumi asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh,” you reply looking at Oikawa sitting beside you who's chatting with one of your group members. "No, I better not."

"Alright, I'll be right back," he says sliding out of his seat.

You try to hide your face behind the menu so no one talks to you and your plan almost succeeded except for the open opportunity it gave Sara to sit beside you. Your face pales as she leans in to rasp, "I'm glad you could make it."

"Yeah," you exclaim a bit put off by how close she is.

"I honestly thought you weren't going to show."

It's hard for you to not flash a bitter smile, but you force yourself to continue the conversation, "It took some convincing but bringing Oikawa and Iwaizumi helped."

The silence stretches between the two of you as Oikawa's laugh fills the air. You take a glimpse at him, noticing one of your group members flirting with him. You roll your eyes while looking back at Sara who is enthralled in his aura.

"He seems really nice,” she compliments. "How long have you two been together?"

"Hmm?" It takes you a moment to realize what she’s asking as you realize she's subtly gesturing to Oikawa. And when it clicks you are filled with laughter. “Oh my god, did you just say that out loud?”

The thought of you and Oikawa remotely appearing to look more than friends from an external perspective makes you nearly piss yourself.

"Oh, I just thought, you'd both make a cute couple," she corrects herself with puzzlement written across her face.

When you realize she’s being serious, you pause. “No, we’ve just been friends for a while.”

"Oooh," Sara taunts giving you a very mischievous look. "You know that saying, love is friendship set on fire."

"It's not like that," you nervously chuckle at her comment.

"Alright, I won't pry," she jokes. "But seriously, I'm happy you're here!"

She gets up from her seat and walks back over to sit next to Ushijima. Your feelings are honestly a bit mixed from that conversation. You really wanted to hate her, but she just seemed so genuine.

------

You’re a couple more drinks in and feel a bit of a buzz as Sara goes into grave detail as to why she transferred to the university now . But you can’t force yourself to listen. Your attention shifts to Ushijima smiling softly at the way Sara bubbles with warmth. It’s funny to think that someone else can make him smile like that besides you because you know how hard it is to do so. But it seems so effortless for Sara.

The memory of meeting Ushijima for the first time flashes in your head. To the time in the library where he reaches over your head to grab the book, you were trying to get on the top shelf. Now you can barely remember as the image of Sara takes your place to retrieve the book from Ushijima's hands. She's the new you.

You know you're overanalyzing every single movement Ushijima makes. From where his eyes linger to where his hands are placed, you cannot stop looking as you stay in suspense to what he will do next. You’re close to being consumed by the sudden urge to lash out or cry. It feels like he’s trying to push your buttons as he leans over toward Sara. You're waiting for him to kiss her. Waiting for it to break you. And it makes you sick.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your knee and turn to Iwaizumi who is looking down at you with a soft gaze. It’s odd but you somehow feel this tension between the two of you. You should have known better in that moment, but your mind feels a bit hazy from feeling vulnerable and also the alcohol.

“Is everything ok?”

You feel anticipation fill your chest and you swallow thickly seeing as this is the closest you’ve ever been to him. You look at his hand for a moment, at his long fingers gently grip the top of your knee. You immediately remind yourself of his words the other day, wondering if he intended to friendzone you like that.

You nod, smiling.

“Let me know when you want to leave,” Iwaizumi whispers squeezing your leg.

His face dips down slightly and you don’t know why you do it and don’t know how you had the courage to. But you’re so caught up in your internal frustrations, you don’t think before you act. You lean in closer to Iwaizumi and plant a kiss on his cheek uttering a thank you.

As you pull back, his eyes widen. It takes you a second to process exactly what you’ve done.

“Um, sorry,” you say to Iwaizumi, you need to get out of there before you die of embarrassment. Quickly you excuse yourself from the table as you rush to the bathroom and you can still feel Iwaizumi watching you.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

But you find the bathrooms have a long line up and turn a corner as you burst through a door to outside. The cool air hits you making it much easier to breathe. Finally, you’re by yourself. Screaming wouldn’t even be able to help you let out the confusion you feel. This was definitely something you didn’t want to have happened. But here you are regretting your capacity to understand a situation. Honestly, you were definitely feeling vulnerable. This entire evening you were caught off guard and something it makes you do weird things.

“Can we talk?

Turning around, you see Ushijima standing in front of you. He gazes down at you with his unreadable stare that makes you want to cry.

“No,” you say a little unnerved walking away from him. But you’re stopped by him grabbing your wrist, the same wrist the creep outside the club grabbed you with. Still a bit bruised and weak from his grip. You let out a yelp, “Let go of me!”

“Just let me explain,” he begs.

But you’re not listening as you try to wiggle your wrist away-- it’s not a tight hold, but it’s enough that it still hurts.

“Please, let me go,” you express firmly.

He stares at you for a moment and with a deep breath exhales letting go.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you yell, grabbing your wrist. “Moved on already, what the fuck is your problem?”

“It’s not--”

“No, let me finish. You’ve already done enough. I can’t believe you. You could’ve just told me you found someone else, instead, I see you with her all cute and cuddly and now I have to fucking work with her? This is such a--”

But as you’re about to continue your rant, you’re interrupted by a voice.

“What’s going on here?” Oikawa asks, noticing Ushijima standing before you. He studies your face filled with rage while you’re clutching your wrist. “Did you hurt her?”

“What?” Ushijima replies confused.

Then Oikawa’s eyes turn dark, a look you’ve never seen before. And you never imagined what comes next. He grabs a fist full of Ushijima’s shirt pulling him close enough that they were inches apart, barely touching noses. You had to stop them before it went too far but you couldn’t move your body.

“After all you’ve been through this is how you treat her?” Oikawa yells.

“You don’t even know the whole story,” Ushijima booms, forcibly removing Oikawa’s grip from his shirt causing Oikawa to make an aching face.

“I know enough to see that you’re a complete dick. But we both know, I’ve known that from the start,” Oikawa hisses. His eyes are fixed on Ushijima shooting him a scowl while your hand is clasped to your shirt.

“Stop it,” you say, but they both ignore you.

“I think you need to get your facts straight,” Ushijima says staying calm and collected while Oikawa explodes with rage.

“Why don't act more like a man,” Oikawa protests.

Then time moves so quick you couldn’t even see Oikawa raise his fist to hit Ushijima square in the face. Because not even seconds after Ushijima retaliates. You rush over forcing yourself between the two men before a fight breaks, pushing your hands against their chest yelling at them to stop. Ushijima is the first to back away as Oikawa stays resistant trying to push by you. But you take both your hands and press them against him as Ushijima exits back into the restaurant.

"Why are you trying to protect him?" Oikawa cries. You look up at Oikawa whose face is glistening in the moonlight as his cheek starts to swell. His dark eyes lock on you as yours start to glaze over.

"Are you stupid? He could've really hurt you," you wail, trying to hide the fact you're physically shaking.

And he sees it.

"Don't ever do that again," you barked.

Then he gives you his signature shit-eating grin, a look that is nowhere near appropriate from just getting punched in the face.

“Told you he’s a dick,” he smirks, walking towards the front of the restaurant. “Let’s go home.”

“What about Iwaizumi?”

“He’ll take care of things,” Oikawa mutters. “He’ll meet us at home. Let’s go before that blockhead comes back out.”

------

Oikawa called a cab to get back to his apartment, you felt a bit bad for leaving Iwaizumi behind. Especially since you kissed him then left.

Things seemed to grow incredibly awkward between you and Oikawa as he sat in the bathroom cleaning the cut on his cheek from Ushijima’s punch. You weren’t really sure what Oikawa was thinking, but you didn’t really want to ask. As you gently press the cotton pad to his cheek, he squints his eyes while the burning sensation shocks him and exhales sharply through his nose.

“Sorry,” you mumble and he immediately forgives you with a smile.

He tries to pin his eyes to something that can distract the sting, but instead focuses his attention on the feel of your fingers against his skin. You’ve never been this close before and he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

He’s thankful for your patience with him. Most certainly did he think you were going to be pissed, but your reaction was far from what he expected as you kept silent for most of the trip home and even patching him up. Oikawa looks at you to see your frown had deepened. “Are you mad? You look mad.”

You scoff. “No, I’m just tired.” You’re caught off guard by his uncharacteristic concern and almost recoil with the question.

Oikawa sighs, “Your face is screwed up like you’re mad.”

“Tōru,” you scolded, crossing your arm across your chest. You choke on your words before answering, “I’m tired, not mad.”

Oikawa holds his breath and continues to look at you as you continue to make that sullen look. He doesn’t believe you. The sight of you with defeat in your expression makes his heart break. He notices your bruised wrist, still purple and blue, and imagines it probably hurts after Ushijima grabbed it. Then he wonders if he could have done something better to help you in that situation. Even that night back at the club still haunts him. If only he’d answered his phone when you needed him the most then maybe things would be different than now. He can’t stand it. He can't stand that Iwaizumi was there to help you instead. And he's not stupid, he knows you like Iwaizumi. He wasn't blind when he saw you kiss him at the restaurant. Oikawa didn’t know why, but something stirred him that he never realized before and it became very unsettling.

You lay the gauze over the wound and tape it down.

“How’s your hand?” you mumble, checking if the ice pack he’s holding to his fist has subsided any bruising your swelling. The bruising was already darker by the time you got to his apartment and it definitely terrified you.

“It’s fine,” he replies.

At this point, you’ve turned away and started to clean up. There isn’t a lot of blood, but enough to make shivers go down your spine as the image of Ushijima’s fist colliding with Oikawa’s face flashes through your head.

You feel your breathing heave as you try to collect yourself from breaking down in front of Oikawa. But something stops you. Instead of your usual hiding, you feel yourself let go and come undone. One small tear rolls down your cheek.

And then another. And then another. And then another. Until you can’t urge yourself to stop them anymore.

Oikawa freezes as he hears you sniffling. This time you don’t hide behind your wide smile. This time you’re actually crying and honestly he doesn’t know what to do. His intention wasn’t to make you cry, he wanted to protect you. And now he feels guilty for even putting you in this position.

“I’m sorry,” you pant, your voice broken by stifled breaths. “It’s all my fault you got hurt. I should’ve never gone to that stupid dinner.”

There’s this nagging feeling in his head pleading to comfort you. To hug you, to tell you it’s not your fault. His consciousness is screaming at him to do something to help as he watched you come undone in front of him. But why is he so afraid to?

“You were right, you’ve always been right,” you continue. “I’m so so sorry Tōru.”

You pause wiping the tears away that tracked down your face feeling awkward from exposing your vulnerable side to Oikawa. Tearing your eyes away from the first aid kit, you turn to look at Oikawa. There’s pity written all over his face. Your hands curl into fists.

It’s painfully tense as Oikawa attempts to muster up the courage to stand up to comfort you. He doesn’t want to regret his decision but he still hesitates, considering you’re now gazing at him.

“I-- I just,” you stutter, partially because you want to fill the awkward silence someway, and partially because you’re worried you’ve scared him. “I was scared…”

You stare at him.

He stares back.

Your heart feels like it’s in throbbing pain under Oikawa’s gaze.

His stomach clenches as you revert to silence.

Suddenly you hear the front door unlock and Iwaizumi call out that he's arrived. You feel your face burn up as you revert eye contact and lean on the counter to see Iwaizumi in the doorway of the bathroom.

“What the fuck happened,” he yells, visibly unamused that you both ditched him at a restaurant with people he didn’t know. You look at him with glazed eyes unable to utter a single word then that’s when he notices Oikawa’s appearance. “Shit.”

Oikawa’s face turns in a smirk. “You should have seen the other guy.”

“I did!” He protests. “Not even a scratch compared to you. You’re fucking stupid.”

"He hurt Y/N," Oikawa protest.

Iwaizumi's eyes widened looking towards you.

"He didn't hurt me," you reassure. "He just grabbed my bruised wrist."

Iwaizumi sighs, shaking his head. "You have to stop running off like that."

Oikawa watches the intimate interaction of indescribable energy or chemistry that lingers in the air between the two of you. He didn’t like it. Not even one bit.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

Text

MonX Hospital | Wonho

Pairing: Lee Hoseok x reader

Genre: paramedic – hospital au / co-workers to lovers

Warnings: naturally given the au of an EMT/paramedic there are more than one reference to accidents, a death and medical terms. Also there is a small fight, kind of a one-night stand but not and I wrote Y/N as on the shorter side, sorry if this offends taller readers.

Word count: 3525

“Hey short stuff!” Hoseok greeted fondly and you rolled your eyes, looking over your shoulder briefly before turning back to cabinets you were stocking.

“You know, if you keep using that term, all the others are never going to stop teasing me for being the shortest here on the force.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it! Great things come in small packages.”

Your gaze fell directly to his loins and smirked. “Do they just?”

“Y/N!” Hoseok warned with a hearty chuckle, helping you with your final gear check in the back of the ambulance.

Truth be told, he liked that he got a rise out of you most days. Hoseok had been in the paramedic industry for four years now and out of all his co-workers he had been paired up with, you were definitely the most compatible. You made the long hours worth it, with the endless banter and the equally deep and thoughtful moments too. Working in such a high-stress, life or death environment was never easy to navigate but you had become a well-oiled machine together. Some of his greatest accomplishments had been at your side.

“Ready to go?” you questioned and Hoseok nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat of the vehicle and moving out of the parking lot. Every day was different on the job. Sometimes he spent more time in the office than behind the wheel, not being on the active dispatch team. Today, however, you were on the road, waiting to be called towards jobs that needed their assistance.

You wound down the window and placed your arm on the doorframe. “It’s too nice of a day to be cooped up in here.”

“You say that every day it’s sunny.”

“The sun will be gone soon and replaced with a busy Friday night, I bet you.”

“How much?”

“You’re willing to give me your money so freely?” you teased and Hoseok shrugged. “Twenty bucks that we only deal with drunk people.”

“Alright, the same if we have at least one sober patient.”

It wasn’t the most ideal thing to be waging on what type of work you would have for the night, but it kept it interesting.

And it made you delighted knowing he had to pay up at the end of the shift. “Oooh, we’ve been around so many intoxicated people tonight I think we’re starting to smell like a brewery!”

“You’re not funny,” Hoseok replied as he pulled out his wallet and handed you the money. You grinned and waved it around, doing a little dance alongside it. “What’s fair is fair.”

“You really do like giving your money away,” you stated, giving him a wink before going into the female changing rooms.

Hoseok waited for you to return out of uniform and jangled his keys. “Want a lift home?”

“You just like driving me around, don’t you?”

“I’m used to it, it’s not often you’re behind the wheel because-”

“Finish that sentence, I dare you,” you implored and Hoseok shrugged playfully, leaping away from your frustrated swipe in his direction. Chasing him out to his car, you just missed your chance to catch him when he slipped inside the driver’s side. Sighing and stalking around the vehicle, you slumped into your seat.

“Buckle up for safety!” he reminded as he turned the car on and you shot him an exasperated look. “Hey, everyone of any height needs to keep safe in a moving vehicle.”

“One day I’m going to get you so good and you’re going to regret every quip you’ve said to me.”

You managed to have him whining two days later before your shift, winning an arm wrestle against him twice. “It’s impossible!”

“Why, because your muscles are huge and mine aren’t? It’s called having a good strategy, you should look it up.”

Ducking his head as the other teammates in the break room laughed at his second defeat, Hoseok dived on the dispatch radio that went off on the table. “Let’s go, Y/N. I’ll show you just how good I am at my job instead.”

After attending a three-car pile up, thankfully all with minor injuries and only transferring one patient to the hospital for follow-up treatment, Hoseok glanced at you instead of pulling out of the ambulance bay.

You gave him a quizzical look. “What?”

“You did really well on that elderly woman’s treatment.”

“What are you talking about?” you muttered, picking up the tablet from its stand to log in more details of the event and close the report. “I just did my job, like you.”

“It seemed as if you got that leg injury stabilised before I was finished dressing the second car’s passenger though.”

“Did I?” You stopped tapping on the device’s keyboard and thought for a moment. “I guess I was efficient.”

“You’re a good partner to have in an emergency, Y/N.”

“What’s with all the praises, still upset about me winning earlier and trying to win me over now?”

“No,” he replied genuinely, and then frowned, trying to search for a reason for his compliment. When he started speaking, he hadn’t felt he needed one. But now, as he continued to look for an answer, he felt hot under his collar. Why were you affecting him today?

You looked at him and then smiled gently. “Thank you. I’ve learned from the best.”

“Me?”

“Chief Jung,” you corrected with a laugh and Hoseok groaned, leaping on another dispatched call and answering that they would take it.

The unease Hoseok was feeling towards you was fleeting and within a week it was back to the same constant bickering and comfortable nature you shared. The rapport you had together only strengthened after being faced with a fatal incident as well. It was never easy to be carrying someone in the back on a gurney headed for the mortuary, and the sombre silence in the cab only amplified this after driving back to the base. Hoseok gripped at the steering wheel at a set of lights, knowing somewhere tonight, a family would be grieving over the person they couldn’t get to fast enough to save.

“It’s the worst feeling,” you murmured as he began to drive off. Hoseok glanced at you briefly, your eyes stuck on the road ahead. “Even if it’s part of the job and not my first time, I don’t like it.”

“I don’t think we’re meant to like it.”

“I know it’s selfish, but I never want to be on the other side of the situation. I’ve had to treat friends before and I know it’s my job to remain calm and collected in a stressful environment like that was. However, say it was you; I don’t think I would be able to.”

Hoseok reached over to pat your hand lightly. “Hey, don’t go thinking like that.”

“It could happen.”

“It could,” he agreed softly, images procuring in his mind with coming up on a scene and finding you within it. He shuddered and blinked it away rapidly. “But I know you’ll do your best for me. And likewise, I’d give my all to save you.”

“Ah, we’re so emotional,” you stated shakily, clapping your hands together. “Does everyone crack like this after losing someone?”

“I don’t know, but you’re not alone in this tonight.”

You grew silent again until you climbed out of the cab and grabbed your things. Turning to look at Hoseok, you smiled sadly. “Want to go get a drink?”

“I was going to suggest the same thing.”

Once showered, changed and now seated in a bar with a drink in hand, you seemed a bit more alert. Hoseok smiled as he pushed the bowl of hot chips he had purchased towards you. You eyed the move cautiously. “What?”

“You need more colour in your cheeks.”

“I’m not feeling faint,” you replied sternly, though took a chip and blew on it lightly before chewing it.

“I know, but eating is a vital step in recovery for us.”

“I’d rather drink.”

“It won’t go away with the alcohol,” he reminded and you nodded distractedly. He could tell you were definitely more subdued than usual tonight. Looking around the bar, he pointed across the room. “Want to play a round of pool?”

“You only suggested that since I suck at it.”

“There’s always room for improvement,” he offered and you picked up the bowl of chips and your drink, standing up and gesturing to a free pool table.

It wasn’t until your second game where you had loosened up enough, laughing loudly at sinking the wrong ball than the one you were originally aiming for.

“At least you got one in!”

“I’m so ridiculously useless at this game!” you replied with another laugh, picking up your drink and taking a gulp.

Hoseok sunk the final three balls and you clapped at his triumph. He picked up his jacket and nudged you playfully. “Let’s call it a night, huh?”

“Good idea before you get drunk and start singing out of tune like you did last time,” you quipped and Hoseok reached out for you as you scooted out of his way. Accidentally, he knocked the man at the neighbouring table in the process.

And then, you turned around and let out a string of explicit words. Hoseok was conflicted. On one hand, his heart was thumping erratically at your instant defence for him, but with the way they acted towards him, he wasn’t exactly able to put in his best bid to protect you with the shock still keeping him to his spot.

“Sorry mate, I didn’t-”

A sickening punch came right for him in response and Hoseok was disorientated. He wasn’t expecting it at all and wobbled as he regained his balance. You came into his view immediately, examining his cheek.

He was in a daze, wondering if it was all a dream as he watched you twist the man’s arm who had just punched him now behind his back and made him drop to his knees. Details seemed to remain hazy even when you were helping him into the back of a cab and giving over your address. It wasn’t until you made him sit down on the edge of your couch inside your home and placed a bag of ice over his cheek that he seemed to snap out of his reverie.

“Did you just do all that?” he wondered out loud and you grinned at him.

“What, save your ass from doing something stupid?”

“I think you were a little too reckless compared, don’t you?”

“There was no need to punch you, and he had to apologise for it.”

Hoseok mirrored your grin as you rearranged the bag you were holding against his cheek. And then it faded, sliding forward to kiss your lips.

It had to be the alcohol, he concluded as he passionately continued to kiss you. There would be no other explanation for the hunger that you were showering him in otherwise. You had never expressed a desire for him like this. Although he had confused moments, you were impartial to dating and even frowned upon it in the workplace. So the events of the night and the alcohol consumed could be the only explanation for this.

Not that he needed one right now. He was all too immersed in running his hands along your curves, gasping when you hastily undid the buttons of his shirt. He enjoyed your instant appreciation of his exposed torso, the licking of your bottom lip urging him forward to capture them again, to continue making you his.

And then the fever cast over you caused you to press into his injury, a sudden hiss leaving him and ruining the mood. He panicked. “No, I’m fine!”

“More than fine,” you breathed, tenderly running your hand over his chest. “But you’re injured, let’s stop here.”

“Really?” he asked with disappointment as you puckered up your swollen lips and nodded sadly. You patted him on the chest before getting up, although Hoseok reached for your hand to halt your departure. “Where are you going?”

“To get you some blankets to sleep with, unless you want to uh… share my bed?”

He nodded then, following you down the hallway to your room.

The alcohol couldn’t hide either of your awkwardness now that the heated moment was left back in the living room. You looked at the space and then cringed. “We can’t, you know.”

“I know. Let’s just sleep,” he assured and you nodded, climbing into the bed first before Hoseok followed you in. Tense for a moment, you then rolled towards him, Hoseok slipping his arm after your neck.

Exhaustion washed over you both, pulling you into your dreams before you could question it any further.

When he woke in the morning, you were already up and making breakfast. Hoseok leaned against the doorframe and watched you move around the small kitchen, smiling to himself. He realised he could get used to this type of relationship with you. Those flustered moments and the unease he had felt thus far made more sense now that he had kissed you.

He was certain you could become better partners to each other on and off the clock.

His growing romantic notions were clipped short by your response over breakfast, however.

You smiled at him politely as you spread jam on your toast. “Your face looks a mess.”

“You did a good job of making me feel better.”

“It was a slip-up, it won’t happen again. Alcohol does strange things to people,” you replied and Hoseok’s expression faltered. You continued to eat your breakfast as if the heated embrace you had experienced wasn’t that special. Were you really that unaffected by it? Hoseok was sure you had felt what he had too.

Maybe you were only acting on impulse from the alcohol after all.

So he swallowed back the remnants of his feelings and chuckled. “Right, we had too much to drink.”

“Don’t go getting punched in any more bars,” you added on with a smirk.

And that was that. He had been lucid when it all happened, and he knew you weren’t even tipsy. Yet you both chalked it up as a drunken experience, working together as if you hadn’t had your hands all over his torso as his tongue wasn’t battling with yours all those weeks ago.

He had to admit, he was rather relieved when his planned time off rolled around. For two weeks, he wouldn’t have to endure through the unexpected moments where he’d catch himself thinking back to that night. Little things, such as you tying your hair back, were enough to give him a seconds’ flash of memory from that night.

Yet, you were unaffected, impartial even.

Or so he thought.

It was ironic how life worked in mysterious ways and if this was how he was going to get your attention, he wasn’t so sure he’d be willing to go through with it more than once. The impact of the other car hitting his was deafening, the screech of the wheels across the asphalt causing Hoseok to clamp his eyes shut momentarily.

He had attended far too many accidents but this was his first being involved in one.

When the noise all came to a halt, he opened his eyes again, assessing himself for injury. He had a few cuts on his arm from the glass shards on impact but nothing was substantially painful. Opening the door to his side of the car that thankfully hadn’t been the one to receive the impact, he went over to the driver in the other car, checking them for injuries as he called for emergency services.

Hoseok didn’t even notice it was you called onto the scene at first, too busy applying pressure to the thigh injury sustained on the other driver. However, he knew it was you who called his name out desperately, ignoring the other paramedic who was calling for you to calm down.

You dropped to your knees beside him, shaking visibly as you reached out for his face, looking him over as tears fell from your eyes. Hoseok smiled softly. “I’m okay, Y/N. We need to help Mr Laing here. He’s got three deep lacerations to his thigh and a suspected concussion.”

You merely stared back at him, still holding onto his face. “I told you not to do this to me.”

“Y/N,” he called, shaking you firmly. “Snap out of it, you need to help this man first.”

“I’ll do it,” Curtis announced and pushed you aside, stepping in to stabilise the patient. You seemed to snap out of your initial shock and assisted Curtis with getting the patient into the back of the ambulance. And then you came back to where Hoseok was now standing and took his arm with a tremble. “Come on, you’re getting checked out too.”

“I’m fine,” he told you but you ignored the response, guiding him into the extra seat in the ambulance. You seemed to have regained enough control over yourself to administer the correct care to the patient on the short trip to the hospital, and once you had handed him over to the awaiting medical team at the Emergency Department, you turned back to Hoseok, your knees starting to give way.

Lurching forward, he grabbed you before you fell. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“No, I’m in shock,” you told him simply, staring up at him intently. “How dare you get hurt and be there when I arrive on the scene.”

“I didn’t quite expect the guy to hit me in the intersection when he did.”

You shook your head and thumped him on the chest. “What are you doing getting involved in accidents anyway?!”

Hoseok shot Curtis a helpless expression, who gestured for you to stay with him as he closed the back door to the ambulance. Sighing, Hoseok walked slowly inside to the bed a nurse called him to and sat you down beside him. You didn’t let go of his injured arm, staring at the cuts over his forearm forlornly.

“Y/N,” he murmured and you hummed in response, tearing up. “Why are you being like this?”

“Am I meant to be fine about you getting injured?!”

“No, it’s just…” He paused to take in a breath. “I’m okay, it’s just a bit of soreness settling in from the impact and some cuts. I’m not dying yet you’re acting like I’m critical right now.”

“You mean too much to me to end up here like this,” you confessed shakily, blinking as a tear slid down your cheek. “You’re meant to help those who get hurt, not be the one hurt.”

“I know. You really are in shock, huh?”

“I like you too much for you to be hurt,” you continued and Hoseok nodded and then stopped, widening his gaze upon your face.

“Wait, like me too much?”

“Of course, I do!”

“As your partner?”

“As a man,” you corrected, wincing a little when you brushed your fingers too close to one of his wounds. “I know you didn’t think much of that night but I did.”

“Woah, hang on a minute!” Blinking rapidly, Hoseok then grabbed your chin with his uninjured arm to pull your focus up to his eyes. “You were the one who brushed it off for being intoxicated.”

“I didn’t want to put you in a bind by my feelings,” you mumbled and Hoseok laughed. You gaped at him. “Why are you laughing?!”

“Because we’re idiots! I’ve liked you a whole lot too, I just thought it was one-sided.”

“Definitely not.”

“So it really scared you to find me there, then.”

“If you ever get injured without me being there again,” you started, heaving in a deep breath as you shook your head with contempt. “Actually, you better not ever get hurt in front of me again.”

“You’re really protective, you know? You saved me in the bar and now you’re asserting yourself again for my safety. It’s really adorable.”

“I would hardly call this situation adorable, Hoseok.”

He grinned despite your lamenting statement, leaning over to peck your lips. You froze and Hoseok kissed you again before pulling you in closer to his side. He sucked in a breath when it hurt a little to do and you snapped out of it enough to look at him with worry.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, I have paramedic Y/N at my side to help me.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“I might need extra treatment after we’re done here getting this sorted out,” he admitted and you tilted your head to the side in confusion. Hoseok smirked. “With how much you like me, I might end up becoming lovesick.”

“God, you’re hopeless,” you told him despite a smile tugging at your lips. Nestling into his side, you buried your head into his neck and pressed your lips into him.

“Maybe you’ll need treatment too. But that’s okay, we’re medically trained professionals. I’ll save you and you can save me, deal?”

Looking up at him with another smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “Deal.”

_________________

Next: Minhyuk

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vannahfanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Good Old Days

Category: Friendship Fluff, Humor

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Characters: Takahiro Hanamaki, Issei Matsukawa, Hajime Iwaizumi, Tooru Oikawa

The bar reverberated with the clinks and clanks of glasses, the pleasant rumbles of conversation, the deep bass of the music pumping through the speakers, and the occasional howls of the drunk men screaming at the soccer game playing on the flat-screen televisions hanging on the walls. The aroma of beer and cheap, greasy bar food hung in the air, complemented by the pungent odor of sweat wafting over from the dance floor. The waitresses held glasses and trays high over their heads while they tried to squeeze through the patrons to deliver their orders, and Takahiro wasn’t helping by dragging a chair across the whole damn bar. He plopped it down at a small, square table nestled in the thick of the crowd, where Hajime was wearing his characteristic scowl.

“Seriously? We just got here, do we have to do this now?” the ravenet snarled, crossing his arms while Takahiro plopped down in the chair across from him. They hadn’t even ordered their beers yet, but Takahiro was ready to get down to business.

“Ahh, you know how he is,” Tooru chuckled, leaning over the back of Hajime’s chair with glittering eyes. “He’s wanted to beat you since high school. He challenges you every time we get together; did you really expect this time to be different?”

“I at least expected him to let me order a beer first!” Hajime griped.

“Well, just beat him real quick and then we can get to ordering our drinks,” Issei hummed matter-of-factly, then turned to toss a wink at a waitress as she passed by. She flushed pink and gave him a girly giggle, a sure sign that Issei was going to chase her around the bar until she either slapped him or they went home together. He never came out to the club with them for the drinks, the scoundrel.

“Oi,” Takahiro huffed, slamming his elbow down on the table and flexing his hand. “Let’s get on with this.”

“I don’t know why you do this,” Hajime sighed with a roll of his shoulders, then draped himself across the small table to clench Takahiro’s hand in his own. “I beat you every time.”

“Not this time!” Takahiro assured him with a smug grin. After years of tasting bitter defeat at the hands of Hajime— literally— Takahiro was ready to finally usurp the crown from him. At the very least, his weeks of lifting weights and boosting his grip strength could not go to waste. Of course, Hajime could never back down from a challenge either; his lips curled up into an excited sneer, and he hunched a little more over the table to give him better leverage.

“Allllll right, ladies and gentlemen!” Tooru announced, fluttering around the table and holding his cellphone like a microphone. “In this corner, we have long-time champion Hajime Iwaizumi defending his title of arm-wrestling powerhouse!” A few nearby bargoers turned their heads to inspect the fuss and grinned in amusement, making Hajime’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “Innnnnn this corner, we have challenger Takahiro Hanamaki! For years he has been gunning for Hajime’s place in arm-wrestling hall of fame; will he finally be crowned the champion, or will he once again taste bitter, crushing defeat?” Tooru continued, leaning over Takahiro’s shoulder with a sardonic grin. Takahiro shoulders him aside.

“Get out of my face, man.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna disrupt his feng-shui,” Issei cackled. The waitress passed by again so he blew her a kiss, and she scurried away with a delighted squeal. If anything was gonna disrupt the feng-shui, it was her girly screeching and Issei’s unrepentant flirting.

Unbothered by Takahiro’s barb, Tooru scampered to the middle of the table and gave a dramatic flourish with his hand.

“Hajime, are you ready?”

“Ready for you to stop acting like a fool. You’re attracting too much attention.”

“Takahiro, are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ve ever been,” he said with a diabolical grin, hunching down in preparation. His eyes gleamed with confidence, boring into Hajime’s own. He was going to win this time.

“Allllll right! Begin!” Tooru shouted while bringing his arm down in the air in a chopping motion, like he was waving a flag at the starting line of a race. Takahiro and Hajime both grunted, and the veins on their arms popped out from the pressure of them immediately attempting to slam the other’s hands down. They were promptly locked in a standstill, and the only evidence that they were straining at all was the ever-so-slight quiver of their interlocked hands.

“Oooh, ooh, look at this, folks!” Tooru cried, fluttering around the table. “The two challengers are completely matched! It is now a battle of endurance!” His antics were rapidly drawing the attention of people nearby, leading to a small crowd gathering around their little table. Hajime grimaced, embarrassed by all the fuss, but Takahiro relished it. He loved the idea of a crowd observing Hajime’s fall from arm-wrestling grace.

“This is fucking stupid,” Hajime growled. His face was beginning to turn a little red, probably both from embarrassment and exertion.

“You’d better not give up,” Takahiro warned, mouth twitching at the feeling of sweat rolling down the side of his face. “I’ll never forgive you.”

“Me? Let you win? You’re audacious for thinking that. Now I’m gonna beat you twice as hard,” Hajime huffed, then groaned as he started pushing harder. Takahiro gasped as his wrist suddenly bent at an awkward angle, and the crowd sucked in a breath as his hand went down a few centimeters. He hopped to his feet, giving himself better leverage, and gradually pushed their hands back to the starting position. Hajime growled, angry that Takahiro recovered, and the rosy-haired boy sneered in triumph as he eased himself back down into the chair.

“Ah, you’re a doll,” Issei purred when the waitress brought them four beers, ice-cold with condensation dripping down the brown glass. She preened at the praise, then giggled when he tossed an arm around her shoulders. “Look at that, boys, she brought us a round on the house.”

“Yeah, we’ll get to that presently,” Hajime huffed. His face was a bright shade of apple-red bordering on maroon, and Takahiro had no doubt that his skin was flushing just the same. Their hands were shaking so hard that they were rattling the table on its unsteady legs, making the beers clink together as they shifted. “Hah— just go ahead and call it quits already,” he sneered at Takahiro, trying to seem confident despite the breathless rasp in his voice. “You can’t beat me, we’ll be here all night.”

“Funny, you stole the words right out of my mouth!” Takahiro growled, then crooked his hand to try and start forcing Hajime’s hand down. He wasn’t sure when, but they had pushed their chairs aside and were bending over the table, nearly face-to-face as they struggled against one another. The entire bar was caught up in their competition now, hooting and hollering. Takahiro had liked the attention at first, but now, it was kind of distracting.

Despite pouring every ounce of strength into the push, he still couldn’t force Hajime to budge an inch.

Hajime shifted a little, falling into more of a squat, and his arm muscles bulged with a sudden surge of strength. Takahiro yelped as that sharp pain shot up his arm again, his wrist bending at an odd angle. Inch by inch, Hajime began to force his arm back. Takahiro fell to his knees, trying with everything he had to recover, but he was spent. With a loud roar, Hajime slammed Takahiro’s hand down on the table, and the bar erupted into cheers. He snatched up his beer and guzzle the whole bottle in one go, then raised his arms in a very clear gesture of “are you not entertained?”

Meanwhile, Takahiro moped on the floor, rubbing his sore wrist with a pout.

“Ahh, you’ll get him next time,” Tooru crooned, crouching down next to him and shaking a beer enticingly. Takahiro huffed disdainfully, but took the beer to sip at it anyway. At least he could use the alcohol to drown his sorrows. He watched the little waitress dwarfed by Issei clap cheerfully at Hajime’s victory, then gasp in surprise and delight when Issei pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek. Hajime had plopped back down in his chair, clearly done with the theatrics, and scowled when Tooru walked over to rub his shoulders like he was his boxing trainer or something.

Just like the good old days, Takahiro thought with a smirk and took another swig of his beer. Defeat stung, but maybe it was better that some things never changed.

No, scratch that. Damn it, he wanted to beat Hajime at arm-wrestling! One of these days… For now, he would just have to accept his failure and enjoy the rest of the night with his three best friends. There was always next time.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#seijoh 4 #haikyuu #takahiro hanamaki #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei #issei matsukawa #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru

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lightupmyass · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: Professor! Namjoon x College Student! Reader

Genre: smut, slight angst, comedy and some fluff I think?

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, mentions of masturbation, slight soft dom Joonie, semi public sex, cream pie

Summary: Being the class clown is all fun and games, until you take things a little too far...

Word Count: 4218

You’ve been waiting for this for months. After a boring summer back home, you finally get to come back to school. Most people dread going back, but you loved it. Your hometown was so boring. You loved being at school, seeing your friends, meeting new people. It was exhilarating to you. You fix your hair one more time before grabbing your bag and heading to your very first class of the semester.

As you walk in, you smile wide when you notice a familiar face, and when you catch his eyes, he does the very same. “Yooo, no fucking waaaay.” You laugh, going up to your friend and high fiving him. “That’s my bitch! You didn’t tell me you had this class.” Taehyung laughs, pulling the chair next to him out for you. “Well you didn’t tell me either, man. Bro this is gonna be fucking great.” You smile. Taehyung has been one of your best friends since you started uni, sharing your sense of humor. He was the class clown everywhere he went, and you thrived together. You looked around, seeing a few other familiar faces, but no one you really talked to.

As you and Taehyung caught up, telling each other all about your summers, something else caught your eye. A man walked into the room, his blonde hair slicked back with a small strand falling onto his forehead, round glasses perched perfectly on his nose, and a dark blue button up shirt tucked into black slacks. He looked young, older than any other student, but too young to be the professor. You Tried to ignore him, but watched him out of the corner of your eye, seeing him set his things on the teacher’s desk and grab a marker from the white board.

“Alright, good morning everybody.” He turned to face the class, a small smile on his face, his dimples prominent, giving him an even more youthful look. “My name is Mr. Kim.” He says, writing it on the board. “I am your professor for English 3. Are their any questions before we get started?” He asks. One of the girls raises her hand, and he points at her. “Sorry if I’m being too forward, Professor, but how old are you?” She asks, smiling at him. “Ah,” he chuckles, “I’m actually 27. I just graduated last year actually so this is my first year teaching.” He explains. Damn, he’s pretty young. “Any other questions?” When he asks that, you get an idea. You nudge Taehyung, smiling as you raise your hand. “Yes?” Mr. Kim asks, pointing at you. “Um yes, I have a question. Do you think busses in medieval times were just very long carriages, Sir?” You ask, Taehyung bursting with laughter the second you stopped talking, a few of the other students chuckling as well. Mr. Kim raised an eyebrow at you, putting his hands behind his back. “Do we have anymore questions about this class?” “Ooh, I have one Sir!” Taehyung raises his hand, a big, wicked smile on his face. “Can we do magic tricks in here?” Mr. Kim looked at him, a small part of his soul leaving his body as he realized what he had gotten himself into. Why did he become a professor? He may never know the truth. “Yes, you can absolutely do magic. In fact, if you keep asking me questions that waste my time and the class's, I’ll do one myself and make you disappear.” A round of ooohs echoed off the walls, Taehyung slumping down in his seat. For once in his life, Taehyung might’ve met his match. This made the young, handsome teacher all the more intriguing to you.

Over the next month you and Taehyung had stuck your claim as the class clowns, as you’ve been doing since the two of my met. You were a chaotic duo that made the best out of any boring lecture. You did ask a few more stupid questions in Mr. Kim's class, but he never acted upon that little “threat" he made on the first day. In all honesty, he didn’t seem like a bad guy. He was funny, sweet, and still super attractive. He was also very philosophical, always bringing up discussions in the classroom that were open for debate, which you gladly joined with complete seriousness. His face when you first spoke without making some joke for comic relief was one of shock, to say the least.

You enjoyed his class very much, but it wasn’t until one night that you really saw Mr. Kim for who he was. It was a night where you and Tae had decided to go out to a little bar that was off campus you two found during your second semester of school. It was quiet, relaxing, and intimate. Not many people from your school come in, so you don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of fellow classmates (which you never worry about anyway but, you know). Tae had left you alone in favor of going home with a girl he had met, meaning that you were sitting at the bar, alone and bored. As you wave the bartender over to ask for another drink, you see a familiar, tall figure slouched on the bar, a big difference from his usual perfect posture, his normally slick blonde hair falling onto his forehead, looking as soft as a cloud.

Curious, you get down from your stool, making your way over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Kim?” You ask, grabbing his attention. He turns on his stool, his cheeks slightly pink as he straightens himself up. “Ah, Y/N. Didn’t expect I’d see anyone from school here.” He mumbles a bit, a slight slur in his voice. He must’ve been here for a while. “Yeah, uh, Tae and I come here a lot. Mind if I sit?” You ask, Mr. Kim nodding. Taking the seat next to him, the bartender brings you your drink. “Are you alright, Mr. Kim? You don’t look like yourself.” You ask. He stiffens up a bit, running his fingers through his hair, the action making his button up shirt tighten around his biceps and back. “Yes, I’m fine. Just kinda, drowning away the work week, you know?” He answers. “I’m sure being a professor isn’t easy. Especially with idiots like Tae and I.” You chuckle, Mr. Kim doing the same. “Nah, you guys aren’t that bad. I actually enjoy some of the things you two come up with. I mean, ‘who would win in a fight between a manatee and a praying mantis?’ like what?” He laughs loudly, making you feel good at the question you asked him just last week.

“I thought we annoyed you. You’re always so serious in class.” You admitted. “On the contrary, you guys brighten my day. Since this is my first year of teaching, I have to try and maintain a strict classroom in order to feel as if I’m actually doing a good job, but its always good to have a laugh every now and then.” He smiles at you, his dimples making your heart flutter. “Why did you become a teacher so early?” The question sneaks up on you, and you’re not sure if it was a good one or not, but you’re curious. “Honestly, I just needed something that would give me money while I wrote my book.” He answers. “Book? You’re writing a book?” He chuckles a bit, taking another sip of his drink. “Of course I’m writing a book. I’m an English major, its not like I can go get a CEO position in a big business with a paper that says ‘I know how to read and write good'.” He jokes, putting a smile on your face. “Well, Mr. Kim, I never expected you to be such a jokester.” You chuckle. “Please, we’re off campus. Call me Namjoon.”

For the rest of the night you both sat there, talking about his book, your childhood, pretty much anything that came up until the bartender called last round and you realized it was almost 4 am. “Oh, wow, I guess we should be heading out.” You giggle, the alcohol definitely running rampant through your system. You take your card out to pay your tab when Namjoon pushes your hand away. “Its okay. I got it.” You thank him, smiling warmly at him. “Are you okay to go home? Do you want me to walk you? Or call you an Uber?” He asks. “Well, we’re going back to campus, so I feel that an Uber would be better. Don’t want anyone to see us and get the wrong impression.” You point out, him nodding in agreement. He walks you outside, waiting with you. “You know, I have always wondered something about you, Y/N.” He says, catching you a bit off guard. “What’s that?” He stiffens a bit, putting his hands in his pockets as he props himself up against the brick wall. “You’re an amazing student, always turn in exceptional work, so why do you act out? Why not just go through school like normal and be great? Let your work and your character match?” The question actually surprises you a bit. “Well, I assume it could be related to the constant need for attention due to the lack of it from my parents, growing up as a middle child in a family of five kids.” You give him your honest answer. “That makes sense.” There’s a bit of a silence for a moment before he speaks again. “Tonight turned out a lot better than I expected. I normally drink alone, but having company was nice.” He smiles. “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Kim. I had a lot of fun too. I saw you as an actual person for once.” You respond. There’s a moment when you turn to face him, his cheeks still tinged pink from the alcohol and his eyes hazy, his body leaning lazily against the wall. There’s a moment when your eyes meet, and the sounds of the last few people leaving the bar fades away, where its just the two of you, and you can’t help the way your heart races, an urge so strong you want to act upon. However, you don’t even need to, because before you know it, his lips are on yours, heat radiating between you in this moment, this moment of passion, where you forget who he is, what he is to you, where all you can think about is how soft his lips are, how his strong hands grip your waist, and how his chest feels pressed against yours. Before you know it, the moment is over, he pulls away with heavy breaths, leaving you cold with his taste still on your lips. “I-I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. God I’m such a fucking idiot.” He steps back, putting his hand on his forehead as he leans back against the wall. “No, no its okay. I didn’t mind-" You stop when you see him looking behind you, the light from headlights flooding where you were standing. “That’s the Uber.” He clears his throat, straightening himself up again. “Have a good night, Y/N. I’ll see you in class on Monday.” He says, and just like that, he’s gone, walking alone in the shadows in the opposite direction.

Another month passes by. You have to admit, there’s a lot of tension between the two of you ever since that night. However, the kiss has somehow made you even more dangerous to him. Not that he was afraid you’d tell someone, because for someone who was a loud mouth in class, you assured him you knew how to keep a secret. Yet the knowledge that he was attracted to you gave you more power in other ways. You started to dress a little different in class, hoping to tease him a little bit, the kiss making you crave more from him. Short skirts and sundresses were now your typical outfit, and you could tell that he enjoyed seeing them without him needing to tell you anything. Even after your chat that night though, you never slowed down with your stupid questions or remarks, keeping your title in the class. You liked pushing him a bit, trying to see where he’d draw the line. No matter how hard you pushed, he didn’t seem to waver at all.

Class started normally, just like any other day, Mr. Kim calling roll call and Taehyung answering with something stupid. It all changed when Mr. Kim asked “Does anyone have any questions before we start?” and oh boy did you have a great one for today. You raise your hand, the look of false annoyance already washing over his face. You know he loves your jokes, he just has to act like he doesn’t. “Yes, Miss Y/N?” Now is your time to shine. Maybe this’ll be his limit. “Ah yes, Sir, I would like to know, where do babies come from?” You ask, Taehyung immediately erupting with laughter as a few other student giggle, a few others groaning, sick of your bullshit. Mr. Kim nods a bit before responding. “Y/N, I need you to stay after so we can discuss your behavior in my class.” The seriousness in his voice scares you, the only thing able to come out of your mouth is a small “Yes Sir".

The rest of class drags on, the fear of what will happen after class making your stomach hurt. You wonder if you really did it this time, if you pushed him past his breaking point. The moment he dismisses everyone is the moment your heart drops into your stomach, Taehyung patting you on the back before leaving the classroom, leaving you and Mr. Kim alone. “Mr. Kim, I-" “Namjoon. Call me Namjoon now, Y/N. Its just us.” He corrects you, a bit of your worry fading away at the calm tone of his voice. “Namjoon, I’m sorry if I took it too far. I really am.” You apologize, and for once in your life its genuine. “Its alright, Y/N. Come up here.” He says, coaxing you to the front of the room with two fingers. You move quickly, something about the dominance he radiates right now overwhelming you. He gets up out of his chair, walking slowly to the door. “You know how much I enjoy your jokes,” he starts, locking the door, “but there is a limit. However, I do strive to be the best teacher I can be, Miss Y/N, and if one of my students needs help in a certain area of learning, I am willing to teach them.” He says, making his way towards you, the bottom of your ass already resting on his desk. “W-What do you mean?” You stutter, hoping that you understood him right. “Well, you asked me a question, darling. Do you want me to teach you?” He asks, his body now right in front of yours, towering over you as he presses himself against you. You can’t believe this is actually happening. All the tension between you two is at an all time high. You feel dizzy, the need for him to touch you in any way growing with every inhale of his scent, his cologne overpowering your senses. “Yes. Please, Sir.” You whisper.

Without hesitation, his lips find yours, the passion and hunger greater than that night, a newfound ferocity taking over as you wrap your arms around his neck, his hands gripping your thighs to lift you onto the desk. His hips nuzzle their way between your legs, your sundress riding up, making it easier for him to press against your core, your thin panties doing very little to conceal it. Small moans leave your throat, instantly swallowed by him, the kiss growing deeper and deeper by the second. Its not until he places his hands on your lower back, pulling you towards him to grind you against his growing bulge that you gasp loudly, tipping your head back and giving him access to your neck, which he gladly accepts, leaving wet, sloppy kisses all over he expanse of soft skin. You whine, moving your hips on your own in hopes of getting his attention. He hums against your neck, his hand moving from your back to your front moving your dress to cup your heat and rubbing you through your already slick panties. You’re speechless, the only response you’re capable of being whines and moans as he uses his knuckle to trace over your slit, pressing against your clit every now and then. Finally, you manage to form words, a small “please" escaping your lips. He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours as he looks down at your legs, slowly moving your dress up your thighs, your panties on full display for him. “And you’re absolutely sure this is okay?” He asks softly, tilting your head up by your chin to look him in the eyes, his other hand still rubbing your thigh gently. “Please, Namjoon. I need you. I’ve been craving you ever since you kissed me. I need you so bad.” You beg him.

“I know, baby. Me too. Seeing you in class every day dressed like this, wanting to taste your lips again, feel you on me, wanting to hold you and touch you and please you. Do you know what I’ve imagined? Hm?” His whispers in your ear, his fingers gently moving your panties to the side. “I've sat in this chair, teaching you and your classmates, just imagining how you feel. How you taste. Been dying to feel you around my cock, beautiful.” You gasp at his words, pure sin dripping from his lips. You can’t deny that you’ve thought about him too, your hand deep in your panties late at night as his name fumbled from your lips, imagining how nicely he’d stretch you out, how his soft lips would feel on your dripping cunt. Yet, as he slowly slide a finger inside of you, nibbling on your earlobe as he does, nothing could’ve prepared you for the feeling of intimacy you felt from him, the way he carefully pumps his finger in and out of you, twirling it around to make you feel all of it as he kisses your neck softly. This wasn’t the normal fucking you were used to. Even though it wasn’t the most ideal setting, you could tell there was something more. He leaned forward a bit, pushing you down to lay on the empty desk, your back arching as his finger reaches a new depth inside of you. His free hand roams your body, pulling the top of your dress down to expose your breasts, the lack of a bra delighting him. Another finger slips inside of you, his pace quickening as he grabs your breast, occasionally pinching your nipple, earning a needy mewl from you.

The way he curls his fingers in you has you losing your mind, your toes curling as your hips squirm, the slick sound of his movements making your cheeks red. His touch is driving you crazy, but you still crave more, the need to be stretched out even more unbearable. “Namjoon.” You moan, reaching down to grip his wrist. He stops, pulling his hand away from as he leans over your body, his clean hand ousting the strands of your hair out of your face. “What is it, baby?” He asks, concern laced in his voice. You sit up, running your hands over his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt under your fingertips, the rigid lines of muscles hidden underneath tempting you. Curiosity takes over, your fingers moving to unbutton his shirt, his torso being revealed to you with every button. He stays silent, watching your movements as he rubs your thigh again, eager to figure out your next move. As you reach the last button, you pull the hem of his shirt out of his pants, now seeing the bulge in them properly, your mouth watering in anticipation. You’d love to have it in your mouth, but at the moment, you’re not sure if you have the patience for that. There’s always next time, right? “Need you.” You mumble, unbuckling his belt. A groan rumbles in his throat as you cup him through his trousers, his package a lot bigger than you had anticipated. “Well, I did promise to teach you where babies came from, didn’t I? What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t follow through?” He chuckles, moving your hand away so he could pull his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, the large appendage bouncing as its released from its tight confines. You gulp, wondering if it’ll actually fit inside of you. You’re glad that you’ve been on birth control since you were 15, because right now you need to feel him inside of you.

He kisses you again as he grips himself, positioning himself at your entrance. “Are you ready, beautiful?” He asks, you nodding in response. The second he pushes into you is nothing like you’ve ever experienced. He moves slowly, the burn of your walls stretching around him making you lightheaded, but for him it was completely worth it. You wanted to be consumed by him, happy to let him claim you as his and not caring who knew. He groaned loudly into your ear, gripping the side of the desk as he fully sheathed himself inside of you. You’ve never felt like this before, never been so full in your life, and when he moves to pull back out, you bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning loudly. “Ah fuck, you feel so good baby. Better than I ever imagined. Fuck.” He almost growled, pushing back into you as you gripped his shoulders, trying to steady yourself. As he starts to set a steady pace, you can already feel yourself losing control. He wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you as he pistons in and out of you, his gentle demeanor now gone as he fucks into you hard, leaving marks from his nails into your skin as you bite his shoulder, trying not to scream. “Fuck. So fucking tight and perfect. So fucking beautiful. Like you were -mmph- fucking made for me.” He groans in your ear, your whole body jolting with each hard thrust of his hips. “Mm, fuck Namjoon. Feel so fucking good. Fucking me so good.” You moan into his ear, each sinful word giving him more bravado to give you exactly what you two have been craving since the bar. “Yeah? You like how I fuck you? What do you want, baby? Want me fuck you so hard you stumble out of this class room, huh? Want me to cum inside you so everyone can see the little trail of my cum dripping out of your dirty little pussy?” Holy fuck. You have never imagined that your uptight teacher was capable of such words, yet here he was, moaning them in your ear as if you were the only girl in the world as he fucked you senseless. “Oh, shit, please. I want it so bad. Wanna feel your cum. Fuck, Joonie.’ You whimper, your fingernails scrapping against his back. He lets out a loud moan, the nickname not going unnoticed as he grips your hips, pulling you onto his cock as he continues to destroy your insides. You can feel the heat building inside of you, his cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly. All you need is the small push over the edge. You lean back, reaching down between your bodies to feel your clit, rubbing it as he thrusts into you, the contact making you absolutely lose it. “Ah, shit, ah fuuuuck!” You whine, coming undone. It was powerful, washing over and making you see white. “Shit shit shit shit!” Namjoon grunted, pushing into you once more as you felt a warmth spread through you, his hips stuttering as he released into you. There was so much that with every slow thrust, small drips spilled out of you, leaving you a creamy, sticky mess.

You laid back on the desk, putting your hands above your head as you smiled, chuckling a bit at how good you felt. He leaned over you, resting his upper half on top of you as his cock softened inside of you. You wrap your arms around him, placing a kiss on the top of his head as he uses your breasts as a pillow, completely worn out. “Oh my god. That was, holy fuck.” He said between deep breaths, earning a giggle from you. “I know. Fucking amazing. Can’t believe I ever thought my own fingers could compare to that.” You joke, but he straightens up a bit, leaning on his hands, hovering above you. “Miss Y/N, did you touch yourself to the thought of me?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. “Maybe.” You tease, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Well then, I think next time you’ll have to show me how you did it so I can guide you properly on how to do it correctly.”

“Yes Sir.”

#bts smut #bts #bts rm #bts namjoon #namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon scenarios #kpop #kpop smut #bts au #bts au fic

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Forever- Utter Nonsense Drabble... 40 Questions!

Yeah so don’t ask me where this came from, but I saw these floating around and for some reason decided it would be funny if Steve and Katie answered some of them instead of me...

I think the original post was from @odaatlover and I think I was taggeed by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork. Anyway, I took my favourite ones and this was the result...enjoy!

1. What’s one animal you wish you could have as a pet but can’t?

Katie: I’d kinda like a tiger. They’re so graceful and pretty but pack a mean bite and you wouldn’t mess with one would you?

Steve: Who does that remind you of?

2. Favorite thing to wear to sleep?

Steve: (grinning) Nothing.

Katie : I can confirm that is also my favourite thing he sleeps in...

3. What song really gets you going?

Katie: In what way? If it’s to dance and just act like a crazy fool to then its always going to be “Back in Black” because it reminds me a lot of Tony and happy times growing up. But if its one to spark memories then its our wedding song.

Steve: “The Only One In Color” by Trapt. I also kinda like the John Legend song “You and I” because it reminds me of her, you know, the bit aout trying on every damned out fit she ownes before we can go out.

Katie: I don’t do that.

Steve looks at Katie, eyebrow raising.

Katie: Ok, maybe I can be a little incecisive....but tha wasn’t really the point of the...you know what, never mind. Next...

4. Where do you usually eat your meals?

Steve: It depends. If its breakfast or lunch dring the week then it’s usual eaten on the go whilst we’re getting the kids sorted or I’m in between classes...but dinner, well we always try and sit down. And at weekends we always eat at the table with the kids.

5. Favorite meal: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

Katie: Dinner. During the week Steve and I eat a little bit later than the kids so we have that time to ourselves just to decompress and talk about our day, have a bit of us time...and at weekend we’re al together so I love it.

Steve: I love it for all those reasons, and also because she’s the best damned cook on the planet.

6. Most embarrassing habit?

Katie: Erm...

Steve: It’s pretty embarassing when you throw a Brat tantrum about something.. Katie: I don’t do that in public.

Steve: Bullshit. I refer you to the whole car purchasing situation a few years ago.

Katie: Jamie was only a baby...I was hormonal.

Steve: Hormonal my ass, you were being a brat.

Katie: Whatever. Yours is definately the need to stand with your hands on your hips and give someone your Captain look, especially when it’s someone you have never met before but they just happen to be doing something to piss you off.

Steve: I make no apologies for this. People can be idiots.

7. Chocolate or fruity candy?

Both at same time: Chocolate.

Steve: Preferably British. Cadbury’s to be specific. I got a taste for it when I was in London during the war.

Katie: He has a secret stash he hides from the kids...it’s great to blackmail him with.

8. Soft or hard tacos?

Steve: Soft

Katie: Hard

Steve: Although hard ones always remind me of when you went into labour with Jamie. We were making them for lunch and you had a contraction and crushed one...

Katie: Oh yeah, maybe soft in that case...because that was painful. And then I went throguh that another 3 times.Which is your fault.

Steve: I take full responsibility, yes.

9. Worst way to break up a fight?

Katie: Walk into the middle of it and say “Prove it, put the hamer down...” Steve: sighs, That was one time.

Katie: And it levelled a forest.

Steve: Did it work?

Katie: Hmmm, suppose so.

Steve: There you go ...but if its a fight between us, the I can think of the best way to break it up...

Katie : grinning, yeah...that’ s pretty funny. Or the worst one is telling you you’re in the spare room.

Steve: Yeah...that sucks.

10. Best thing to say in an elevator of strangers?

Katie: Putting on deep voice “Before we get started, does anyone wanna get out?”

Steve: Sighing I wish I had some smart reply to that bu I don’t...

Katie: No, you just threw us out the side of the damned thing from 14 storeys up

Steve: 19

Katie: That’s...that’s not better Steve.

11. Any hidden talents?

Steve: Not so much hidden really but I’m not a bad artist and Katie’s singing and piano playing is off the scale.

Katie: Steve’s really good at DIY. Like, brilliantly good. And also pretty savvy with technology all things considered...

Steve: When you say all things considered you mean because I’m like 112

Katie: Actually, you’re like 127 if you count the 15 years you spent back in time after putting the stones back.

Steve: hesitates I thought you said they didn’t count because I didn’t spend them with you.

Katie: They don’t, but they still happened.

12. Socks or bare feet around the house?

Steve: Socks

Katie: Bare feet

Steve: Neither of those protect you from standing on lego, which for the record, I reckon has to be a pain worse than chilbirth.

Katie: Seriously? You’re going there?

Steve: Ok, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration but it still hurts like hell.

13: Favorite board game?

Katie: Monopoly. Its funny to watch Emmy and Jamie getting really agitated and annoyed. The younger 3 don’t really get it, Rori just likes to help Steve by sorting all his money into piles and suggesting things he can spend it on.

Steve: Namely tutus and tap shoes...she still wants to be chorus girl.

14:Heat on or keep it cold with lots of layers?

Katie: Oh my God. Steve is a nightmare as he runs hotter than any of us, so whilst we want the fire or heat on he’s complaining he’s boiling hot all the time. Our bedroom is like an ice block.

Steve: Doll, I’ve been in an ice block. Trust me, our bedroom is like a furnace in comparison.

Katie: It si nice though, like sleeping with a big hot water bottle.

15: At what age did you first have alcohol?

Katie: I’m sure Tony gave me beer when I was 15 or something but the first time I ever got drunk was aged 17. I went to a keg party at one of my friends and I was aboslutely shit faced. Tony held my hair back whilst i puked my guts upt for a good hour once I was home. I had the hangover to end all hangovers the next day and he cracked JARVIS up to maximum volume just to teach me a lesson.

Steve: I think I was 18. Me and Buck drank a bottle of his dad’s home made hooch...yeah, it didn’t take me much to get me drunk back then and I was very, very illl. Ma thought I had a fever. Mr Barnes thought it was hilarious, but still gave us both a slap upside th head...

16. What’s the most amount of money you’ve spent on a single item of clothing?

Katie: I would say my wedding dress, but Tony bought that for me, so it would probably the the dress I wore to the SIP Launch for The Color Of Revenge...that cost...well it was in the tens of thousands

Steve: Blinking How much?

Katie: You don’t need to know.

17. What do you typically wear to formal events?

Steve: Whatever my gal tells me to.

Katie: And you always look great Soldier.

18. Favorite memory?

Steve: Oooh, other than when we adopted Emmy or the kids were born, I’d have to say when Katie agreed to be my wife. I’ll never forget that day as long as I live.

Katie: Me neither, not least becase I got my camero...

Steve: rolls eyes.

Katie: Joking aside, yeah the engagement sticks in my mind but I think it was when you finally kissed me for the first time. I knew then that I was never gonna let you go.

Steve: yeah...that...ok you know what this is an impossible question after being together for so long.

19. Favorite shoes?

Katie: I have a pair of sparkly gold Jimmy Choo stilettoes that I’ve had for ages. They’re gorgeous, with ankle straps and pointed toes. I’ve had them for almost 17 years but they’re amazin.

Steve: grins. Yeah, they’re my favourite shoes too...

Katie: Pervert.

Steve: I’m not even gonna deny it. Those shoes ALWAYS stay on if I can help it.

20. Most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?

Both start to laugh hysterically.

Steve: Where do we start?

Katie: New York, Washington, Sokovia, Lagos, Leipzig, Siberia, Wakanda, Upstate and proablly a whole load of other places in between could be good places Stevie.

Steve: Yeah, this...I can’t answer this.

21. Most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing?

Katie: I was 7 when my parents died but taking Tony as surrogate, I reckon him catching us in the kitchen when we were...you know, and he didn’t actually know about us has got to be up there.

Steve: Yeah, that was pretty bad... although my Ma once caught me and Bucky measuring our... looks down.

Katie: splutters What? You never told me this?

Steve: Well its not exactly somethign that crops up in conersation sweethheart? “Oh by the way, once when we were 16 me and Buck compared sizes...” Katie: Blinks. Boys are strange. So who had the biggest...

Steve: Next question...

22. Last time you had an orgasm?

Both grin.

Steve: Last night

Katie: I can confrim this...there’s not many nights to be fair where we don’t...

23: Celebrity Crushes?

Katie: grins. Does Bucky Barnes count?

Steve: Fuck you.

24: Makeup or natural?

Katie: Normally I just wear a bit of tinted moisturiser and mascara, now I have the kids anyway. I don’t have time to really do my face in a morning. I’ll make the effort when we go out though...

Steve: You don’t need it honey.

Katie: Awww thanks baby.

Steve: Although that red lipstick you wear, the bright red..yeah...I like that... grins wickedly and winks It smears well...

Katie flushes: dirt bag

25. Favorite season?

Katie: Summer. Growing up in Malibu I like the sun and warmth.

Steve: Fall. It’s an artists dream...the colours and textures are amazing to work with

Katie: Fall is rubbish. Everything dies and it’s a bit shit.

Steve: But you make apple pie and get to snuggle in my sweaters.

Katie: literally the only 2 things good about it.

26. Are you a competitive person?

Katie snorts and looks at Steve

Steve: I’m not even going to deny it.

Katie: He even refuses to let the kids win a games sometimes.

Steve: Important life lessons, Doll.

27. First pet you’ve ever owned?

Katie: My goldfish Flounder, the one that Tony replaced about 8 times. Other than that it was my Turkey Marv, he was ace.

Steve: I didn’t have any growing up so mine would be Lucky. He was a great dog.

28. Favorite pasta dish?

Steve: Mac and Cheese, specifically Katie’s. It’s amazing.

Katie smiling: Yeah I like Mac and Cheese, but I also enjoy carbonara.

29. Favorite kind of pizza?

Both: Pepperoni.

Steve: New York Style.

Katie: I like Deepdish every now and then.

Steve: It’s not the same...

Katie: well dur, that’s the point.

Steve: Yeah, not convinced.

30. Lots of acquaintances or a handful of close friends?

Katie: Handful of close friends, without a doubt. They become an extension of your family, you know. All of us in the Avengers were close and when you have that bond, you’ll do anything for one another.

Steve: Agree completely. When you’re close like we all are then it makes everything that little bit easier, knowing that whatever you’re facing you’ve got each others 6.

31: Something that ruins your appetite?

Katie: Narrows eyes Whenver I see Ross on Tv. Makes me want to puke.

Steve: You really should let that go you know?

Katie: Never. I hold a grudge very well.

Steve: Don’t I know it.

32. Night out with a bunch of friends in public or night in with one friend having deep conversations?

Steve: I’ve never been one for big nights out. I enjoy the odd one now and then but, I’d much rather curl up on the sofa or round the firepit with Katie or Sam or Bucky with a beer and some decent talk.

Katie: Yeah, at one time I would have said night out hands down, but certianly since having the kids, or even since we started dating, it’s definately change my ideas a little. Some of the nicest nights we’ve had have been spent on the sofa.

Steve grins: yeah...

Katie: And not just because of that....

33. Have you ever told someone you loved them first?

Steve: I’ve only ever told one girl I loved them and she’s sat right here, and I said it first that night...

Katie: smiling Yeah, yeah you did. I wasn’t far behind though, like 3 seconds or something.

34. Have you ever had sex on the first date?

Katie: Does a one night stand count as a first date? Because if so then yes...

Steve: Same.

Katie: Lottie?

Steve: Storm?

Both look at one another, teasingly.

Katie: Ok next question...

35. Heroes or villains?

Steve: Some people might say there’s a fine line between the two. Katie: Oh here he goes, getting all Captain Philosophical again...look, everyone knows we were suposedly the heroes Steve, and to be fair we saved the world a fair few times, we were even fighting in the shadows during the Nomad years.

Steve: I know, I know...

36. How many plates can you eat at a buffet?

Steve: You know I’ve never actually counted.

Katie: You did 20 at the last brunch we went to.

Steve: 20...that’s...impressive.

Katie: smirking Bucky did 22

Steve: sighs Of course he did...

37: Favorite dessert?

Steve: Apple pie, preferably Katie’s

Katie: Pecan pie. Hands down.

38 Would you rather watch a TV show or a movie?

Steve: Ooh, that’s..i suppose it depends. I do like a good TV series, especially if we can curl up and binge watch once the kids are going to bed but I do have fond memories of us working through the films on my list...

Katie: smiling, yeah we had a lot of fun. Still

39. What’s your favorite compliment to give?

Steve: I love telling Katie how beautiful she is, and what a wonderful mother she is...all of which is true.

Katie: I like to remind Steve that he’s my Steve Rogers, not Captain America...because he is. And he’s the most amazing man on the planet, with or withouth that serum coursing through his veins. Which is what makes him the best dad the kids could wish for.

40. What’s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to you?

Steve: smiling, she’s sat right next to me.

Katie: smiling , back at ya soldier.

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark

40 notes · View notes

heartofsnark · 6 years ago

Text

Black Market Wonderland (Chapter Three): The beginning is the end.

Notes: Once again thanks so much to my friends who proof read this and to everyone who leaves feedback. I really appreciate it, it means a lot to me. I hope everyone continues to enjoy this shit show.

Word Count: 10027

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking, threats, that’s about all I can think of, if I missed something let me know.

Missed the last chapter? Link here!

“You know you’re literally trying to prove your worthless, right?” Kisaki’s snide comment brings her back to reality.

“I don’t usually have to work so hard to prove it,” she grumbles under her breath.

“Aww, don’t worry princess, we’ll find plenty of uses for you.” Baba winks again and she glares at him, despite the pleasant tone his meaning is clear. He doesn’t think she has a chance of winning this bet.

“Even Eisuke might have his work cut out for him, finding value in her,” Oh jumps on the chance to demean her, but he’s smirking instead of his usual stoic expression.

“How long ya think it’s gonna take him to win?” Kishi asks them, puffing on his cigarette.

“Eh, a few days if Koro’s lucky.”

“He might let it go on longer, if he’s looking to toy with her.”

“Hmm, she might get a week if he really wants to drag it out.”

“As much as I’d love to listen to the peanut gallery, I need to finish cleaning.” She rolls her eyes as the group of men start taking bets on her bet and leaves to clean the suites.

Most of the penthouse rooms aren’t that bad, basic cleaning and maintenance needed. It seems they’re all relatively capable of cleaning up after themselves, if nothing else. Then she steps into Kishi’s suite, she knows it’s his from the stubbed out cigarettes and overflowing ashtrays scattered through it. She ends up having to open as window as she cleans through it, it smells like a smoke bomb’s gone off in the damn place. There’s still a hint of cigarettes under air freshener scents by the time she’s finished. His room took up the rest of her shift and it’s time for her to clock out.

She takes the elevator down, at least she can spend the night in her dorm. The only ordeal left for the night is introducing Kiyo to Chisato and Sakiko. She puts her cleaning cart away and files into the locker room; Chisato and Sakiko are already changing.

“How did cleaning the penthouse go?” Chisato asks.

“Fine, nothing unusual,” Tsuneko gives a vague response and busies herself with changing.

They make idle chitchat as they all change, reconfirming where they plan to meet up at to hang out. Chisato and Sakiko finish changing before her, leaving her alone. She starts gathering her things from her locker. She’ll drop her clothes from yesterday and the tupperware off at her dorm before meeting them at the restaurant. The door opens, the sound and footsteps echo in the quiet locker room. Erika walks towards her locker, she’s in casual clothes, maybe she forgot something? The head maid notices Tsuneko and groans, before opening her locker.

There’s a tension between them, despite their usual animosity towards each other, this is different. Tsuneko’s stomach twists and knots, she wants to make this better, somehow.

“Matsuda,” she calls out.

“What do you want?” Erika whips her head around to glare at Tsuneko.

“Can we talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She closes her locker with a clang and starts to rush towards the door, Tsuneko steps in front of her, invading her space.

“There very clearly is.”

“Move it, Tomori, or I’ll write you up for harassment,” Erika threatens, her face is red, Tsuneko hates seeing her this angry.

“Look, I’m sorry about this whole promotion shit. You have every right to be upset, I don’t know what they’re thinking, but I’m trying to get out of it.”

“Is that suppose to make me feel better!?”

“Uh, I was hoping, at least a little.”

“I’ve dedicated five years to this hotel!”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. I don’t how to fix this other than trying to get out of it.” That makes Erika’s face fall, anger draining as she lets out a sigh.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I don’t disagree, but can you be more specific?”

“You’re seriously going to turn down a promotion because of me?”

“Well, uh, yeah.” There’s a lot more to it than that, but she can’t think of a decent lie.

“That’s stupid, holding yourself back for others, dumbass.” Erika is still red faced as she pushes past Tsuneko, leaving the locker room. She lets out a heavy sigh, not sure how to feel about how that ended.

It’s a quiet walk to her dorm, she drops her things off, tops off Kiyo’s bowl and gives him some belly scratches before she changes into some slightly nicer clothes. While as casual enough place, she’d rather show up in something nicer than the baggy shirt and shorts she usually wears for the less than five minute walk from the dorms to the hotel.

The night air feels nice against her skin, the city lights twinkling in the dark and people meandering around her. She looks up at the sky for a moment as she walks, no stars, the light pollution from the city making it impossible to see them. Living in the city is great in many respects, a large part of her loves Tokyo and it will always be a second home to her, but little things like that makes her miss Kyushu. She shakes her head and makes her way to the restaurant.

Sakiko and Chisato are already sat at a table; they wave Tsuneko over. The place she picked is a cozy inexpensive restaurant, simple wooden furniture and warm low lighting. She plops down in a chair and orders something to drink, nothing alcoholic. She’s slowly trying to learn her lesson about getting drunk around others. Not to mention, if she forgot about Kiyo in a drunken stupor, she’d never forgive herself.

“It feels so nice to just relax.” Sakiko grins and takes a sip from her cocktail.

“‘Cause you’re so serious during work, “ Tsuneko teases.

“I swear to god, if you invited us out just to nag me, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re about as threatening as a cupcake.”

“Says the chubby cheeked munchkin.” Sakiko pinches and squishes Tsuneko’s cheeks from across the table.

“Wah er ya doin?” Tsuneko tries to ask and grabs Sakiko’s wrist, prying her hands off. Chisato is cracks up, laughing at the two of them.

“Hey, maybe some of your luck will rub off on me?”

“Will you stop with that luck bullshit?”

“You have The King and Kuroba after you, I can’t even get a boyfriend.” Sakiko sighs.

“Don’t forget Erika,” Chisato chimes in and sips from her beer.

“No one is after me!”

“Fine, whatever you say, we’ll stop teasing you, for now.” Chisato shows some measure of mercy.

“For now she says, speaking of love lives, how are things going with you and Itsuki?” She’s never met Chisato’s girlfriend herself, but she’s seen her in passing and has heard about her plenty.

“It’s been great,” Chisato beams, “she’s working tonight, but we’re going out on a date tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” Sakiko puts her head in her hands, “I’m gonna die alone while you two live happily ever after.”

“Nah, I plan on dying alone too,” Tsuneko offers.

“Not helping.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

“Wanna know who my great love is right now?” Sakiko asks, her expression still grim.

“Should I be concerned?” Tsuneko raises an eyebrow, her mind immediately jumps to the gutter, a vibe and toy filled one.

“It’s a game she’s been playing,” Chisato squashes her concerns as Sakiko pulls her phone out.

“What were you thinking?”

“Nothing good,” Tsuneko admits and grins despite her flushing cheeks.

“Pervert, here look at my love.” Sakiko shows her an otome cg on her phone, a shirtless guy with what look like wolf ears, “Kazuro, he’s so gorgeous.”

“So, it’s a furry game?” Tsuneko can’t resist teasing.

“He’s a demon, it’s different,” Sakiko defends, “it’s called Monster Lovers, it’s freemium, but it doesn’t drain your wallet too much and the stories are so good.”

Their food comes and Tsuneko stuffs her face as Sakiko prattles on about the game. She’s apparently already conned Chisato into downloading it for the female love interests. And Tsuneko has to make a promise to check it out so Sakiko will take a breath, that she uses to inhale her food now that her passionate fangirling has ended.

They continue making idle conversation and eat. There’s a sense of ease to the evening, every topic is light and easy. This aspect of friendship is always easy, anything deeper makes Tsuneko squeamish, but she already knows what she needs to put some trust in these two. To maybe take the work qualifier off their roles as work friends. The two of them drink a bit through the meal, a soft flush to their cheeks, while Tsuneko sticks to sobriety. They’re not drunk, just on the verge of tipsy if she ventured to guess. Which means, she hopes, they’ll be a bit more open to accepting her fluffy noodle boy.

The meal finishes up and Tsuneko pays for them, despite being told she doesn’t have to. A part of her feels manipulative; inviting them out and being extra kind, all with the ulterior motive of making them befriend a ferret. She’s done worse things, she tries to remind herself. Kiyo is without a doubt the most worthy cause she’s ever had for doing shady things.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tsuneko tells them again, “hey, I still have some cake I got from Larme, do you guys wanna come eat some?”

“Oooh, I never turn down cake,” Sakiko agrees.

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said,” Tsuneko teases.

“I could go for some sweets,” Chisato tells her as they leave the restaurant.

The two of them walk in front of Tsuneko, the sidewalk not wide enough for all three to be side by side. It’s a small thing, but watching them chat while she trails just a bit behind reinforces how much closer they are to each other than her. She knows it’s a silly feeling and she hates how sensitive she can be, but she always seems to be so disconnected. She’s heard so much about those kind of friends who confide everything in each other, those deep bonds that don’t break. Her relationships have never been like that. Whether it’s romantic or platonic, she can’t let it get deeper than surface level. It’s like a panic alarm is set off in her head any time someone tries to get closer. The closest relationship she has is Shinobu and that’s-

“You alright there Tsuneko?” Sakiko’s chirpy voice cuts off her thoughts. They’re standing outside the dorms. Tsuneko can’t even remember the walk.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”

“You looked kinda sad,” Chisato comments.

“Nah, I was just lost in thought, don’t worry it,” Tsuneko cuts off any further questions. She’s not about to get sappy and melancholic with them. No one needs to know every sad little thought that pops into her head.

She leads them up to her dorm and unlocks the door. Kiyo’s cage is tucked away from sight when someone first comes in. She doesn’t want someone to accidentally see him when she’s leaving or entering and in this case it allows her to ease them into seeing him. Jumping right to ‘Hey, here’s my illegal ferret’ isn’t exactly a smart move.

“Sorry, my dorm’s a little messy,” she apologizes as they enter and she shuts the door behind them.

“This is messy to you?” Chisato asks, looking at the little pile of yesterday’s clothes on the floor. She was in a bit of a hurry when she dropped everything off.

“Yeah, I was in a rush.”

“This is literally one of the cleanest places I’ve ever seen and oh my god, that’s so cute,” Sakiko’s train of thought derails as she notices some of the plushies Tsuneko has on a shelf. She picks up a Cinnamoroll one and gives it a squeeze.

“He’s one of my favorite characters,” Tsuneko admits as she gets out the cake for them all, “do you guys want anything to drink?”

They ask for some coffee and Tsuneko plays hostess, getting it all together. They sit down on her kinda small cream colored couch, more of a loveseat in all honesty, and she ends up sitting on the floor. She shoves a bite of cake in her mouth and can’t help making a noise of pleasure, the rich sweet flavor hitting her. Tsuneko is finishing up her piece when she decides it’s time to confront the elephant in the room or ferret as it may be in this case.

“Can I ask you guys something?”

“Sure, what’s up?” They look at her expectantly.

“If I theoretically, was doing something against the hotel rules, would you report me?”

“What did you do?” Chisato asks, all humor or mirth drains from her expression.

“It’s nothing dangerous or awful, I just wanted to know.”

“It would depend on what it is,” Sakiko tells her, her eyes narrowed in concern.

“I’m just gonna have to show you, aren’t you?”

“Show us?” Chisato and Sakiko share a curious look.

“Close your eyes,” Tsuneko tells them and doesn’t step away until they do. She goes to Kiyo’s cage, he blinks a few times, he must just be waking up. He makes soft dooking noises as she takes him out and brings him close to her chest, scratching over his fur. They didn’t make any promises to keep him secret and she knows she can’t expect them too. She gives him a kiss on the head, she doesn’t want to lose him.

“What’s that sound?” Sakiko asks as Tsuneko brings Kiyo into the room. If someone isn’t use to it dooking noises can sounds weird, something between a chatter and almost clucking sound. Tsuneko puts away the dessert plates before sitting down with him in front of the coffee table.

“Open your eyes.” She can’t help the waver in her voice, worry coloring her tone.

“Oh my god,” Sakiko speaks first, her brown eyes are bright and wide.

“His name is Kiyohito, Kiyo for short,” she introduces as he excitedly wriggles in her arms. Sakiko moves to sit at the table on the floor, letting her get closer.

“He’s so cute,” she reaches out then pauses, “can I pet him?”

“He sometimes nips, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. If he gets to rough just give him a boop on the nose and he’ll stop.”

Sakiko scratches the top of his head; Kiyo sniffs and licks at her fingers. Chisato mimics Sakiko’s position shift and gets closer, she still hasn’t spoken.

“When did you get him?” Sakiko asks.

“A few days after I started working here, I know pets aren’t allowed. But, he was so cute and I-” Tsuneko stops herself, ‘was lonely’ is the rest of that sentence. Those words die in her throat. Hell will freeze before anyone hears her say something so pathetic.

“It’s not hurting anyone,” Chisato speaks up, her fingers scratching over Kiyo’s back.

“I never really got the pet rule, some guests bring pets, and as long as you care for them who cares,” Sakiko grumbles.

“So, neither of you wanna tell on me?”

“Of course not,” Sakiko answers and Chisato nods in agreement.

“Thank you both so much,” Tsuneko bows her head, “I promise if anyone ever finds out about him, I won’t tell that you both knew, I won’t let it effect either of you.”

“We know you wouldn’t,” Chisato’s hand moves from Kiyo’s head to Tsuneko’s, ruffling her hair. Tsuneko’s face flushes and she has to resist the urge to lean into the touch. Why are head pats so damn nice?

“Hey, pet the ferret, not me!” Tsuneko yells and sits ups straight, batting away Chisato’s hand. She doesn’t need her weakness for head pats exposed. Her denial must not be as smooth as she was hoping, Chisato and Sakiko laugh at her. Kiyo squirms out of her hands and plops onto the table, showing his belly. Tsuneko scratches at his tummy; he loves belly scratches.

“Is this what you were all stressed about?” Sakiko asks, joining in on scratching his soft tum.

“Well, it’s not just that, I wanted to ask you both a favor,” they look at her curiously, “if I ever cant for whatever reason, would you guys mind stopping in and taking care of him?”

“I don’t mind, ferret cuddles and I get to raid your fridge, sounds good to me.” Sakiko shrugs.

“I don’t mind either, I’m not sure what to do though,” Chisato adds.

“I’ll explain all of that, thank you both. I just, after I had to go get patched up last night, I was worried that if anything happened no one would be able to care for him. This is such a relief for me, you have no idea.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Chisato asks.

“I do, I don’t want anything bad to happen to him.”

“Don’t worry, all you need to do is ask and one of us will take care of him.”

Tsuneko thanks them over and over again, it’s like a weight lifted off her shoulders. They insist she doesn’t need to be so grateful, but that just makes her feel more indebted. She’s done nothing to deserve their kindness; Sakiko and Chisato are really good people.

After the hundreth thanks, she shows them how to take care of Kiyo when she’s away. They don’t seem bothered in the slightest and play with him the entire time. He’s bouncing and flopping around, excited to have two new friends. She even shows them how to play tag, touching him and then running off for him to chase after.

The night goes easy enough, everything winding down until it’s they decide they need to go home and get some sleep for the work day tomorrow. The door shuts behind them and Tsuneko can’t help the big smile on her face as she turns to Kiyo.

“That went a thousand times better than I expected,” she scoops him up , “you did such a good job, sweetie.”

He makes a soft noise; his eyes are drifting shut and his tongue sticking out. He’s ready for sleep. She cleans his cage out, refills his water, and puts some treats in his bowl, before tucking him in his favorite hammock. She busies herself with changing into some lazy clothes, laundry and cleaning up her dorm. Once all of that is done, she’s ready to focus on the more pressing matter.

She plops on her bed and puts her phone on charge, letting her mind wander. How likely is it that Ichinomiya is going to win this bet? That’s the question she keeps coming back to. She feels pretty confident that she’ll win. As risky a move as the bet is, it’s hard for her to think of a way he could win this. She meant every word she said. The truth of the matter is she just doesn’t have any skill that could benefit him, at least nothing special to her. She’s too cautious to say she will for sure win, but she can’t see a situation in which she loses.

Now, the next question is, what is she going to do if she wins? The idea of staying at the hotel is not at all enticing. The knowledge of how dangerous it is and what her boss is like has ruined the already limited appeal of the hotel. Not to mention, there’s no guarantee that Ichinomiya won’t just fire her if he doesn’t get his way.

She was expelled from the University of Tokyo and every attempt to repeal it has gotten her no where. She’s applied to a few other prestigious universities after, but once most find out about her expulsion they end up not wanting anything to do with her. She can’t transfer her credits either since it was an expulsion. So, not only would she have to start over, but she’d also have to downgrade to a lesser school.

At the time, the thought of that was crushing. She got so discouraged after so many rejections, being a failure, she just gave up. Her dad still doesn’t know she was expelled. She hasn’t even talked to him in over a year.

Maybe, this is a good thing? Not actually a good thing, being sold to a bunch of assholes is never a good thing, but maybe it’s the kick in the ass she needed. If she can settle for cleaning rooms for a year than she can settle for studying at a shittier university. If she went to one in Kyushu, her dad would probably let her stay with him and work at his gym to help with money. That is if he doesn’t decide he’s done with her after all her lying and not even talking to him for a year.

She starts searching around for Universities around Kyushu, taking note of application deadlines. If she wins the bet, she can quit and get her life back on track. She saves a few pages of ones that have law programs that look decent. Once she’s got a few options, she decides to go grab a shower and take some painkillers for her hand.

Her night passes by normally for her. She stays up extremely late, finding things to entertain herself and looking more into schools. It’s around three in the morning when she makes it to sleep, usual for her.

Her nightmare that night isn’t as vivid, not as haunting. When she wakes up at five in the morning, she can’t even clearly remember all the details, just the feelings. A noose and a death rattle sound are the two things she remembers most. Those kinds of dreams are easier to deal with. She can usually shake them off and move on right away, the more vivid ones leave her in a panic. Maybe the painkillers helped numb it? That might be a habit to pick up, along with the alcohol.

She goes through her morning routine; getting ready, taking care of Kiyo, and taking care of everything she needs to. Everything is status quo as she goes into the Tres Spades; changes clothes, gets her work schedule, and starts her day. It’s about an hour before her lunch break and she’s finishing up a room when her pager goes off. Tsuneko fumbles to find the answer button and a harsh masculine voice comes through it.

“Penthouse, now.” It’s Oh’s voice, a deep harsh baritone. She’s not sure what’s worse, getting a five minute time limit or just a demand to be there in an instant.

She makes the journey to the penthouse. It’s odd, in some respects the journey is becoming too familiar, but in others it still seems unreal. Her fingers find the good luck charm in her pocket, she still hasn’t turned it in. The soft feel of the worn fabric has become a comfort for her through all of this. She plays with it in her pocket as she enters the lounge.

“I was paged.”

The lounge is a mess, far more than it was yesterday. Overflowing ashtrays, playing cards tossed around, poker chips scattered, and bottles of booze knocked over. She’s dealt with worse in all honesty, but compared to how neat it seemed yesterday, she’s caught off guard. Baba, Kisaki, and Kishi are all in the lounge.

“Princess!”

“Not my name.” Tsuneko starts cleaning. She was fairly confident Oh was the one who paged her, but he’s no where to be found.

“Koro, wanna play cards with us?”

“Also, not my name.”

“Awww, you’re not gonna pretend to be a good girl today?”

“I’m still doing my job, unless you have legitimate work for me to do, we really don’t need to talk.” Her tone is cold and deadpan. She only, hopefully, has to deal with these dumbasses for two weeks. It’s best not to let them get too far under her skin, as rage inducing as they are.

“Ugh, don’t be so boring.”

“Her seriousness is part of her charm.”

“Pfft, you’ll seriously hit on anything with a pulse, even a kid like her,” Kishi decides to join in.

“Flirting with dogs is a new low, even for you.”

They’re trying to get a rise out of her and she’s biting at her lip to hold back yelling at them. Kisaki seems to have some fascination with comparing her to a dog and to an old guy like Kishi, twenty-two probably does seem really young. She busies herself cleaning up their mess, not taking the bait.

“Woman!” Oh’s voice rings out, his tone patronizing and grating.

“Man!” She spins around to face him. He’s glaring daggers and she returns the favor.

“Memorize this,” he drops a heavy stack of papers into her hands, “it’s an item list for the next auction. You’ll be helping the Hatter present them.”

“You….want me to present on stage?” Her heart jumps into her throat. Sitting in that cage and waiting helplessly as strangers bidded for the chance to hurt her. The memories come in a flash and she can’t breath. She doesn’t want to go on that stage again.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Oh’s tone makes it clear that this better not be a problem.

“Uhhh, I’m not much of a performer, I’d just ruin the auction.”

“You didn’t sign the confidentiality agreement, we need extra assurance you won’t talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, and if I work the auction I’ll be accessory to a crime. I get that, but I can just do behind the scenes stuff.”

“No, I’m not trusting you with anything that important, You have eleven days to memorize the list, speak with the Hatter in the tearoom for anything else.” With that Oh leaves the lounge and doesn’t give her another chance to weasel out of it. She glares at his retreating back

“Aww, are you shy in front of crowds, pretty lady?”

“Shut up,” she growls as she puts the stack of papers in her binder and starts to leave. The lounge is clean, she’ll take care of the suites and be done with the penthouse for the day.

“Koro,” Kisaki calls after her as she’s headed towards a suite. Him and Baba following after her, “it’s lunch time.”

“Do you need me to call room service for you?”

“No, we’re gonna take you out to eat, lovely lady.”

“I need to feed my pet, the old man is just lonely and pathetic.”

“I’m not interested,” Tsuneko brushes them off and starts to leave.

“Isn’t it almost time for your lunch break?”

“Yes and once I’m done cleaning I’ll take my lunch break in the employee cafeteria.”

“Aww, don’t worry I’d be honored to treat you, princess.” Baba slings an arm across her shoulders and starts guiding her towards the elevator. Tsuneko ducks under and jumps back just before he can get her in. He really can’t take a-

“Eep!” she yelps out as Kisaki pushes her forward into the elevator. Baba hits a button the second she’s in and the doors close with them all heading down to the ground floor. She glares at the two of them.

“Don’t be so grumpy Koro, you’re getting a treat.”

“That still not my name and all you’re doing is harassing me!”

“But you look just like the old Koro, it’s nice to finally get a new puppy,” Kisaki reaches out to pet her head and she ducks away, “you still need training though.”

“Comparing girls to dogs isn’t nice, Ota.”

“The first Koro was a good girl, new Koro should be happy.”

“Can you both just leave me alone and let me work?” Tsuneko groans as the elevator comes to a stop.

“C’mon, is lunch really going to kill you, pretty lady?”

“If I’m lucky,” despite her grumbles, she’d be lying if she said free food wasn’t enticing, “you two aren’t gonna stop until I just give in, are you?”

“Aww, she’s learning,” Kisaki teases as she follows the pair out of the elevator. She’s stuck with them for two weeks at the very least, an hour long lunch isn’t the end of the world. Painful, but tolerable. Kisaki puts on thick black framed glasses before they leave the hotel.

“What’s with the glasses?”

“It helps keep paparazzi from noticing me.”

“That sounds like bullshit, but alright.”

“Ota has to worry about being hounded by cameras all the time.”

“Gross.”

“Pfft, you’re not wrong, but it comes with the territory. They eat up the angelic artist shit.” Kisaki sneer and Tsuneko can’t help thinking how gross it must feel, pretending to be something you’re not.

“Where exactly are we going?” Tsuneko asks, she doesn’t want to start feeling bad for any of these men. It’s easier to distract herself.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take you somewhere nice, sunshine.”

“Do you just have a list of gross nicknames you run through?”

“You’re pretty face inspires me, every new nickname proof of my love.” Baba winks and her stomach churns. The word ‘love’ makes bile rise in her throat.

“I’m actually about to vomit.” She can’t stand people throwing that word around so easily and flippantly.

“I’ll just have to nurse you back to health with some tender loving care.”

“That’ll just make her sicker. Koro, come here, we can’t have you just wandering around,” Kisaki starts to reach for her hand, “you need a leash.”

“Touch my mangled excuse for a hand and I will throw you into traffic.” Tsuneko shoves her hand in her pocket. Hand holding is weird enough in a relationship and with an uninjured hand.

“I’m starting to think you need obedience school.” That comment makes her roll his eyes and they slow outside a cafe. Tsuneko goes to hold the door open, but Baba beats her to it.

She murmurs a thanks. Even if she doesn’t like him, he’s being nice. The cafe is surprisingly casual even if it is nicer than what she’d probably pick. She expected them to pick some fancy over the top place, given their status, but the cafe is relaxed and cute. Pops of pastel colors give it a soft cheery vibe that makes her want to smile despite her company. They slide into a booth, the leather a soft baby blue. The pair sits across from her and they start looking through the menu, the assortment of sweet parfaits draws her eye. She picks out what she wants, making notes of the prices before putting it down. Baba and Kisaki might have talked about treating her, but she has no intentions of letting them pay. She’s an adult and more than capable of buying her own lunch.

“Seriously?” Kisaki raises an eyebrow at her after they order their food.

“What?”

“It’s cute she has a sweet tooth.” She ordered a big parfait with honey and bananas along with her meal, apparently this is interesting to them. She can’t help pouting, she’s not cute and she’s allowed to eat whatever the hell she wants.

“Aww, make sure you don’t get any chocolate,” their drinks our brought out and Kisaki takes a drink, “this tea isn’t bad.”

“Mmm,” Tsuneko makes a soft noise as she sips on rose soda, the sweet floral taste brings a soft smile to her face.

“Ota, instead of saying ‘not bad’ you should just say it tastes good.”

“Huh? Isn’t it the same?”

“We’re in the presence of a lady,” Baba nods towards Tsuneko, “you’ll ruin the mood.”

“There’s not going to be any mood at all since we’re here with an old guy,” Kisaki comments, she knows Baba is older, especially compared to her and Kisaki. But, Kisaki’s acting like he’s pushing fifty or something, he’s not even the oldest of the penthouse guys. That’d have to be Kishi, she figures.

“Ota, I think you meant to say ‘a very young man’.” Baba puts a hand on his face and looks down. They seem to be really good friends, not quite like Oh and Ichinomiya, but still close.

“Your age a touchy subject?” She asks between sips of her soda and sits up as their food is brought to them.

“Do you think I’m old? You know I have the heart of a twenty year old!”

“Like, in a jar or something?” Tsuneko teases before focusing on her food.

“You’re too cruel, darling.”

“Yeah, I’m the cruel one.” Tsuneko rolls her eyes and starts munching.

“Oh, your hand must be bothering you, I’ll feed you,” Baba scoops up a heaping spoonful of her parfait and hold it out to her, “say ahhh!”

“What am I a fucking infant?” Tsuneko grabs the spoon from his hand and feeds herself. She’ll be damn if she’s fed like a baby. Baba’s lucky she didn’t have time to smack him away from her food. She makes another noise of contentment; the sweet parfait flavors are so good,

“Pffft, careful she might bite you next time,” Kisaki laughs and she can’t say much given she has in fact bitten people multiple times in her life.

“I wouldn’t mind a few love bites.” Baba winks at her.

“I’m starting to think you just have a problem with that eye,” she comments before cramming more food in her mouth.

“That comes with age.”

“I’m choosing to believe that you both tease me out of love.”

“His minds starting to shut down too,” Tsuneko retorts, licking yogurt from her lips.

“It’s nice getting to relax and joke with you, lovely lady,” Baba says with a beaming smile.

“Yeah, don’t get use to it, I’ll be gone in two weeks remember.”

Baba covers his smile with a hand and holds back laughs. Kisaki doesn’t hold back and starts snickering at her.

“She actually thinks she’s going to win,” she throws a hunk of banana at his face, “hey!”

“It’s okay, it’s cute that you think that,” Baba tells her as Kisaki flicks the food off his face and she sucks honey off her thumb. She pulls back her leg and kicks Baba hard in the shin, “ah, are you trying to play footsie with me, now?”

“Ugh,” she yanks her legs back up into her seat under her, “you’re gonna make me puke.”

“Really, it looks like you’re trying to give us both a peepshow.” Kisaki points at her chest and she already knows what happened. Her lacy purple bra is showing through her uniform top, the button came undone again. Then a bit of yogurt drips from her spoon; cold and wet on her cleavage.

“Between that and how you’re eating, I’m starting to think you’re trying to seduce me, princess,” Baba says as she fixes the button and wipes the white yogurt off her skin. She’s not really sure what he means by how she was eating, but Baba would call anything she does provocative. His face looks just a little red, the cafe is a little hot, she figures.

“I assure you, being a slob is not a seduction technique.”

“You know, wearing clothes that are too small ‘cause you don’t wanna size up, is just sad,” Kisaki says with a smirk.

“Ota! You don’t bother women about their size!” Baba scolds Kisaki. It’s not that she doesn’t want to size up, she knows she’s gained weight, but she keeps forgetting to order a new uniform. She flings another chunk of banana at him.

“Stop playing with your food, Koro.” Kisaki glares at her. They finish up their food and get the bill, Tsuneko gets her wallet out.

“Don’t worry about that princess, it’s my treat.”

“No,” Tsuneko says bluntly and puts down the money for her part of the bill.

“A gentleman doesn’t let a lady pay,” Baba tells her.

“A ‘gentleman’,” she rolls her eyes at the word, “would respect my decision to pay for my own meal.”

“I guess old people really are more sexist,” Kisaki teases and Baba looks conflicted, his brows furrow like he’s thinking. He might not be used to doing that.

“I’m a feminist, you know I’m not sexist, right Tsuneko?”

“You did help buy me,” she drops her voice to a whisper for this, “y’know like an object.”

“That was a different situation,” Baba defends. He’s flustered and his eyes are wide. She has to press a hand to her mouth to keep herself from laughing.

“Well, I don’t have time to watch you struggle, I’m gonna head back to work.” She stands up and heads out the cafe, the two aren’t far behind.

They walk towards the Tres Spades, the makeshift comedy duo banter the entire time. They finally free her once they reach the lobby, the pair heading to the casino while she needs to go back and clean the penthouse suites.

“Was that Kisaki Ota?” A soft voice asks from behind her. Tsuneko turns to see Mari and Chiho, two maids who work here.

“Oh, yes, he’s one of the penthouse residents.”

“You ate lunch with penthouse guests?” Chiho asks, raising an eyebrow.

“They insisted, I paid for myself, if wasn’t anything important.” The two maid share a look at her response.

“You know a lot of girls would kill for a chance to eat with the angelic artist, right?” Chiho continues and Tsuneko fidgets with the charm in her pocket, they aren’t jealous are they?

“Sakiko’s been telling everyone how Mr. Ichinomiya must have feelings for you, but maybe it’s Kisaki?” Mari twirls a blonde curl around her finger as she talks.

“Sakiko is a dumbass, no one in the penthouse likes me like that.”

“Maybe it’s that other guy? With the fedora, I don’t know his name,” Chiho suggests, looking at Mari.

“Hmm, but he’s kinda old, I think Tsuneko would prefer a cute young guy.”

“That’s true, plus I hear he’s super sweet.”

“Shouldn’t you two be working?!” Tsuneko growls out, sick of this conversation.

“We’re going, we’re going, enjoy your time in the penthouse.” Chiho waves her off and the two go off to work. She rolls her eyes at their nonsense and ventures back up to the penthouse.

She cleans Kishi’s suite first this time, knowing full well it will take the most time. Sure enough, it’s as much of a disaster area as it was the day before. It takes her twice as long to clean his suite as it does any of the other suites. She’s sweaty and frustrated by the time she gets the last ash stain out of the carpet. He’s an old guy and he should know how to clean up after himself by now, but apparently that’s asking too much.

The rest of the suites are a breeze in comparison. She finishes cleaning up the last suite, Oh’s, when her pager buzzes. Tsuneko has finally cracked the code of where the damn answer button it.

“Lounge. Five minutes,” Ichinomiya demands and she rolls her eyes. She’s already in the penthouse, she could be there in less than a minute. He told her she was late yesterday, but he didn’t do anything. She hates when people waste her time and he seems to be the same way. Ugh, the thought they have anything in common makes her stomach churn.

She takes out her phone and decides to play on some apps. Irritating Ichinomiya makes winning a plushie in her crane app game all the more satisfying. Now might be a good time to check out the otome app that Sakiko recommended. She watches it download and plays through the intro, there’s a snake demon character who catches her eye. Six minutes pass and she’s content finally making her way to the lounge.

“You’re late.” Ichinomiya doesn’t even look up from his tablet. Oh and Kishi are both here as well.

“Happens.” She shrugs and she hears Kishi snicker while Ichinomiya glares.

“Coffee, now.”

“Would either of you like anything?”

They both tell her no and she goes to make Ichinomiya his coffee. She repeats what she did last time since he didn’t complain and seemed to like it. It seems more like milk and sugar with a hint of espresso, but given her own love of sweets she can’t truly judge. She places it down in front of him and starts to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ichinomiya questions before drinking her coffee.

“I already cleaned the lounge and suites, I’m going to finish cleaning the guest rooms.”

“No, you’re coming with me.” He puts his now empty cup down and stands up before striding out of the room. She trails behind him, confused.

“Uh, where are we going?” She asks as they step into the elevator. Surely, he hasn’t already thought up a way to win the bet. Ichinomiya doesn’t acknowledge her, continuing to work on his tablet.

“Okay,” she speaks up again, “you’ve apparently become a mute in the past five seconds.”

He looks up just to glare at her and she meets his eyes, waiting for him to say something. It’s not that hard to tell her what’s going on, she isn’t expecting the world.

“You’ll be my assistant at an event tonight,” he says with an aggravated sigh and looks back to his tablet, like talking to her is a nuisance.

“Isn’t that usually Kenzaki’s job?” She asks both out of curiosity and the need to press upon him that this task is not special to her, it doesn’t win the bet.

“I’m aware it doesn’t count for the bet,” he grins at being able to see through her, “Kenzaki has enough to worry about right now.”

“If the event isn’t until tonight, why are we going somewhere now?”

“You can’t show up in your uniform.” He looks at her like she’s stupid.

“Do I need hours to change?”

“You need clothes for the event.”

“I have clothes that can work,” she tells him. Buying clothes for one event sounds like a pain. Tsuneko still has some formal clothes from when she interned at a law firm.

“Oh and I’m sure they fit you as well as your uniform,” he stares pointedly at her chest and she fixes that damn button, not even bothering to look down, “if you can’t even manage a uniform, how can I trust you to dress yourself for an event.”

She wants to argue, but those more formal outfits are from before her weight gain. They were a little lose when she first got them, so while they might work, it’d still be a gamble. It wouldn’t exactly look good for her to show up as his assistant and have her chest popping out.

“I haven’t gotten around to ordering a size up, but I see your point,” she grumbles as the elevator comes to a stop. It’s struggle to keep up with Ichinomiya, he’s easily a foot taller than her and his legs are probably twice the length of hers. She’s practically jogging to keep up with his casual steps.

There’s a sleek black limousine in front of the Tres Spades that Ichinomiya climbs into. She follows and can’t help staring. The back of the car is more like a lounge; leather chairs more like a large couch and chilled champagne. Tsuneko sits down closet to the door and far away from Ichinomiya, taking advantage of the space. It’s uncomfortable to say the least.

To an extent working at the Tres Spades and now the penthouse has gotten her a bit more accustomed to seeing over the top extravagance. But, it still annoys her and makes her uncomfortable. Even when she was striving for a better job, something that would afford her a higher standard of living, she never wanted this kind of stuff. It’s too much. No one needs a limo and chilled champagne on stand by.

The ride is filled with an awkward tension. Ichinomiya doing work on his tablet whil she makes herself as small as possible and plays on her phone. She wins a few more plushies and gets started on snake demon’s route; his name is Tatsumi and she wants to kiss his face. There’s a few others she’s interested in, but snake man is stealing her heart.

They come to a stop and she puts her monster romance on pause to look at where they are. There’s a high end boutique, she’s heard of it and it’s pricey. She tucks her phone into her pocket and follows Ichinomiya inside. There’s several racks of clothes, lighted shoe displays, and a strong perfume scent in the store. She can feel the store trying to drain her bank account already. Online shopping is her go to with clothes in particular. She can find good deals, try them on in the leisure of her own apartment, and send back what she doesn’t need. It’s so much easier. A price tag catches her eye and she can hear her wallet crying.

Ichinomiya wastes no time and starts picking out clothes, his eyes looking between the fabric and Tsuneko. An attendant is hovering beside him as he puts clothes on her arms. He may have more experience with this stuff, but why is he picking what’s going on her body?

“You know I can pick out clothes myself, right?” She raises an eyebrow at him and crosses her arms over her chest.

“You’ll wear what I say, I can’t have you embarrassing me, remember your two options?” He reminds her of his asinine ‘yes’ or ‘okay’ line.

“Remember when I told you to fuck off?” She rolls her eyes and starts looking through clothes herself, not giving him another look. Her eyes immediately go to the darker dresses, simple and sleek would probably look best for an assistant look. She picks out a few, even though the price tags make her sad. He just looks annoyed when she comes back with her own picks.

“Go try everything on.”

“Fine,” she refuses to say ‘yes’ or ‘okay’ to him.

Tsuneko goes into the dressing room, her picks in her arms and Ichinomiya’s picks in the attendants arms. She puts all her options, there’s far too many of them, in the seat. All of them are more than she’d ever spend on clothes. She can afford a few, but it’ll mean her severely cutting her budget somewhere else. Maybe she’ll buy one for the event and return it right after? Otherwise she’ll be stuck eating nothing but rice for a couple weeks.

She decides on one of the dresses she picked, if only to irk him. It’s a dark red bodycon dress with sleeves and a modest neckline. Her work ponytail doesn’t really suit it and she takes it down. It takes her longer than she’d care to admit to pull the dress up, tight over her curves as it’s meant to be. Once it’s in place, she steps outside, showing the dress to Ichinomiya. She hates this, his eyes scan over her, like he’s taking in every detail. He’s evaluating the dress and she knows that, but it still feels disgusting and objectifying.

“Absolutely not, it’s too conservative and looks frumpy, try one of the ones I picked out, now.”

She rolls her eyes and walks back in, catching sight of herself in the mirror again. He’s not wrong, not that she’d ever tell him that, but with her curvy figure the higher up neckline looks a little frumpy. She grabs one of his picks and tugs it on. It’s more classic, black with white straps and a band around the stomach. It’s slimming despite the body-con style and shows a tasteful amount of cleavage. She sighs, it looks nice on her. He has good taste and she’s angry about it. Once she’s shown him, he gives it his approval, of course.

This impromptu fashion show continues this way; him evaluating each outfit and dress, making comments, and either approving or disapproving them. He even accepts some of her picks. She sorts them into yes and no piles as they go through this entire process. They finally get done with the last outfit.

“So, do you want me to pick one out of the yes pile or what?” She asks him and he narrows his eyes, like she just said the stupidest thing, before turning to the attendant.

“Ring up all the clothes I approved, we still need to look at shoes and accessories.”

“Wait, what,” her eyes widen, “it’s just one event, I don’t need twenty outfits.”

“Be quiet,” Ichinomiya demands, busy looking through shoes.

“I can’t afford all of this.” That earns her a disgusted look from Ichinomiya, his nose wrinkling like he’s smelled something foul.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m buying them for you.” He’s apparently found the shoes and accessories because he starts making a beeline for the register, pulling out a card.

“What, no,” the number on the register display makes her head spin, “I’m not letting you spend that much on me.”

“You won’t let me,” he says the word ‘let’ like it tastes foul in his mouth and glares at her, “what makes you think the power to let me do anything?”

“Hey,” Ichinomiya reaches to hand his card to the cashier and Tsuneko throws her hand up to try to stop him, “okay, but after the event or whatever, you’ll return them and get your money back, sound good?”

“Why on earth would I return them?”

“So, you don’t waste your money.”

“Don’t waste your time by thinking about it too much, I need to make sure you don’t embarrass me,.” He hands his card over, clearly annoyed.

Tsuneko feels sick seeing the total of it all, she wishes she could pay him back, but that would take forever. Plus, if she really wanted to be a stickler about it she’d also all them all twenty-million for buying her. It is because of him that she needs these clothes, so she can excuse it away as being similar to uniforms.

Store attendants follow them out of the boutique and stack the clothes in the limo, before they leave. She plays around more in Monster Lovers until they’re back at the hotel. She’s at her first love challenge when she has to tuck her phone away and starts to get the clothes bags.

“I’ll have them taken up to the penthouse.”

“Why would you have them put in the penthouse?”

“Do you ever tire of asking ridiculous questions?”

“Do you ever tire of giving terrible answers?”

“Given your catastrophically bad taste, Ota will do your hair and makeup for the event.”

“I can do my own hair and makeup,” she groans, “can’t you let me do that much? I’m trying to compromise here.”

“I don’t compromise, go to the penthouse.”

“C’mon, I-”

“When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it within five seconds,” He cuts her off and gives her a pointed look, the staff has already started taking the clothes to the penthouse. She meets his glare and stands closer, in his personal space.

“One bunny scout,” she holds up her fingers as she counts seconds in bunny scouts, “two bunny scout, three bunny scout, four bunny scout, five bunny scout, six bunny scout.” On the sixth bunny scout she finally turns to leave. Ichinomiya scoffs from behind her and follows her up to the penthouse lounge. The entire group is there, they sit up and look up at them.

“Ota, she’s going to an event with me, do her hair and makeup.”

“Awww, I get to groom Koro,” Kisaki perks up and is already heading towards his suite, “c’mon girl.”

Tsuneko tosses her head back and groans before following him. She has a headache coming on. Kisaki is laying out clothes from the bags, there was some stuff about him being involved in the fashion industry during her search on him.

“Go take a shower, I need your face and hair clean, there’s only human products though,” Kisaki tells her without even looking up from the clothes, he looks hyper-focused. Mari is right, he really is cute, but his personality is such a train wreck, “hmm, oh do you need me to wash you, koro?”

“What!?” she jolts at his suggestion and her cheeks burn, “don’t be fucking weird!”

She scurries off to his suite bathroom, it’s huge with a large bathtub and a large shower stall. The shower stall alone is probably bigger than her dorm. And entire wall is made of window glass, showing twinkling city lights. The penthouse is too high up for anyone to be able to see up into the window, but the idea of being naked in front of it still seems strange. There’s a fluffy white bathrobe, so she guess she’ll change into that.

Tsuneko doubles check that the bathroom door is locked because she doesn’t trust Kisaki as far as she could throw him. Well, she could actually probably throw him pretty far, he doesn’t look that heavy. But, her point stands that gremlins can’t be trusted. She strips down and something just feels weird. The large open unfamiliar bathroom and having such a big clear window in front of her, she feels exposed. Her body is hot, like it’s on fire, her reflections shows how bright a pink her face is. God, she’s getting flustered and bothered by standing naked in front of a window. She needs to get laid, this is pathetic.

She hops into the shower, after removing the bandages from her hand as well, and starts to wash. Steaming hot water relaxes her to a degree, the products are nice and luxurious, but she prefers her own if only for the familiarity of the scents. Tsuneko washes up quickly, having to stop her hands from wandering to do dirtier things a few times. She can practically hear her treasure chest of toys calling her name from under her dorm bed.

Once she’s done washing up with no funny business, to the disdain of her hormones, she dries off and puts on her underwear with the robe over it. She’s not giving Kisaki a chance to see her bra and panties on the bathroom floor. She finds the first aid kit in the bathroom and starts to redo her bandages, making them less bulky and intrusive this time. The cuts are healing well despite her still using her hand and it doesn’t hurt as much to move it. She looks at her now makeup free face, the bruises has changed from more red hues to blues and purples. Kisaki will still have to cover them up.

Steam floats out of the bathroom as she steps out back into the suite. Kisaki has chosen her outfit for the event, laid out on the bed. It one of the ones she picked, she notes with some satisfaction.

“Sit,” Kisaki gestures towards the edge of one of beds and sits down, “now give me paw.” He holds out his hand with a cheeky grin and she smack it away, earning her a glare.

“Don’t push your luck, Kisaki,” she grumbles.

“Ugh, just call me Ota, we’re basically the same age,” he tells her as he starts looking through makeup palettes.

“Doesn’t matter,” she tells him as he starts carefully dabbing on foundation. His movements are more gentle when he starts to apply over her bruises.

“That’s from the night you were sold right?”

“Uh, yeah, my face got slammed against the floor,” she murmurs, not wanting to think about that night. Every memory of it makes her stomach churn.

“Maybe we should have reported them to PETA,” he says with a shit eating grin.

“Fuck off, Gremlin.”

“Hey, who are you calling a gremlin?” He glares at her.

“You’re way more gremliny than angelic, that’s for su-eep!” Kisaki pinches the non-bruised cheek and pulls causing a twinge of pain.

“Can you just shut up and be cute?”

“Nefuh maaged to do efer of thoves,” she responds, her speech distorted by her cheek being yanked.

Kisaki lets go and gets back her makeup, he might not need to use blush on that side now. There’s something oddly intimate about having her makeup put on by someone else. She thinks the last time that happened was her mom letting her play with lipstick when she was three or so. It involves a lot of face touching between application and him gently moving her head as needed. His amber eyes are trained on her face the entire time with an intense focus, she find herself having to look away because it’s too much. Kisaki applies a coat of lipstick before pulling away and giving her a final longer distance look.

“Next is your fur, he says before going to the bathroom and reappearing with a blow dryer and other tools.

“Are you ever going to stop with the dog bullshit?” She asks as Kisaki plugs in the blowdryer and gets behind her on the bed.

“You didn’t even let your fur dry completely, you should have just let me give you a bath,” he answers nothing and starts blow drying her hair.

The heat is relaxing as well as the feeling of his fingers working over her scalp and through her hair. She’s reminded of all the times she’s fallen asleep during hair washes at the salon. She leans into each touch and her eyes keep wanting to drift shut. Her cheeks are warm and she chooses to blame it on the heat from the dryer. Tsuneko will never why she’s so weak to having her hair played with.

Kisaki pulls back her hair into a bun, leaving her bangs and side locks loose. He adjusts little details, before finally leaving it be.

“There you go, you have a really fluffy coat,” he says tapping the bun on the back of her head.

“I don’t have the energy to call you out, I’m going to go change.” She sighs and takes the change of clothes to the bathroom.

She freezes when she sees herself in the mirror, she understands why Ichinomiya wanted Kisaki to do her makeup. It’s not too dramatic like part of her feared, she’s never been a fan of heavy makeup looks. Soft blush eyeshadow tones, eyeliner that’s just thick enough to bring out her eyes, foundation that can cover the bruises but not hide her freckles, contour that makes her face a little slimmer looking, and soft berry red lipstick. It’s the perfect balance of enhancing her looks without trying to change it. She could never even dream of doing a makeup job this perfect.

Tsuneko steps into the dress and pulls it up, so she won’t risk ruining her hair or makeup. She looks at it on her and pouts. It’s one she picked out and she remembers it well, but in the store she paired it with a blazer that covered up a bit more of the neckline. Kisaki hasn’t done that, or at least he only had the dress, shoes, and a necklace laid out. The top of the dress is made of white lace with a deep v neckline that goes into a black body con dress at the waist down. She has to adjust her bra a bit so it doesn’t show. She puts on the necklace, a simple gemstone on a silver chain, and the black heels.

“Can we talk about this dress, Kisaki?” She asks as she leaves the bathroom.

“Let’s go show Eisuke, he’s probably getting impatient by now.” Kisaki doesn’t wait to hear her feedback and leaves out of the suite.

She sighs and follows after him, cursing under her breath. Tsuneko hasn’t even left and she’s already eager to get this night over and done with. And entire night of waiting on Ichinomiya and being his lackey, Oh killing her starts to sound more and more like a better alternative. The hope of escaping it all in two weeks is the only thing keeping her spirits up. She has to get away from this all.

#kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #eisuke ichinomiya #soryu oh #ota kisaki #mamoru kishi #mitsunari baba #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb ota #kbtbb mamoru #kbtbb baba #black market wonderland

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