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yanderedrabbles · 2 days ago
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Yandere Yakuza
When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out. Word Count: 4.3k
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When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.
He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.
You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.
But then he showed up.
Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.
You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.
"Relax, I know these guys."
Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.
Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.
"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"
Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.
"Came to collect what he owes us."
Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?
Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.
"How much does he owe?"
"Sis really I can-"
Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!
Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.
"How much do you need tonight?"
The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.
You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.
"Let's go then."
When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?
You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.
The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.
"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"
"We'll talk about it later, ok?"
Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.
When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.
"You got a boyfriend?"
You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.
"No. I don't."
He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.
"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."
"Why not?"
The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.
He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.
"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."
"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."
"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"
He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.
He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.
"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."
You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?
He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"
You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"
He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."
You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?
You take the card.
"Iiko [good girl]."
He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."
He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.
You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.
"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"
"I was drunk, okay?"
You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.
His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?
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The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.
He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.
It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.
Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.
He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."
He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."
You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.
"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"
He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."
"Perv," you mutter into your drink.
On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.
But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.
"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."
You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"
Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."
When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.
A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.
But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"
"No."
"Then no."
He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.
He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."
When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?
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Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.
"Let me teach you Japanese."
You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.
"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."
You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.
"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."
"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."
He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.
"What does it mean?"
"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."
He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.
Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.
"Say goodbye like I taught you."
"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."
He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."
You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.
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Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.
He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.
"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."
When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.
"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"
He flops down into your lap before you can say no.
You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.
Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.
There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.
He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.
"Go on a date with me."
You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.
And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.
"Okay."
His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.
"Good. You'll like it."
By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.
But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.
"My brother's landlord-"
Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.
His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.
He looks good. Dangerously good.
He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.
You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."
He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"
He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.
He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.
"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.
"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."
"Explains why you asked me out then."
"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"
"I'm your girl? Since when?"
"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."
Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.
You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.
"You had fun tonight?"
"Yes. More than I expected honestly."
He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.
"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."
You clasp your hands together behind his neck.
"You liar."
He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.
Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.
His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.
You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.
When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.
He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.
"How much for tonight?"
"What?"
His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.
"How much to take you home?"
A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.
God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?
And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?
"Are you serious?"
"Obviously. How much do you charge?"
You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.
The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.
He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.
Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.
Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.
"I'm not for sale."
The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.
"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."
The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.
He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.
When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.
"I can't buy you."
"No."
"But I want you."
You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."
You shut the door without turning back.
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He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?
But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.
When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.
You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?
Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.
"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."
You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"
He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."
"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."
He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."
That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.
"So why not just pay someone else?"
You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?
"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."
A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.
Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?
And yet...
You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.
And still you want him.
You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."
He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.
"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."
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You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.
You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."
"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."
You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."
He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."
"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."
He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."
You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.
"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.
He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."
"But I am?"
"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.
"Tell me a secret about yourself."
It's his turn to study you. "A secret."
"That's what I said."
He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.
You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.
But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.
He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.
"It's incredible."
He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.
He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.
"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."
You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"
He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."
You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."
"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."
You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.
You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.
Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.
"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."
He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.
"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."
He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.
"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."
The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."
The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.
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pseudowho · 9 hours ago
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It was an average Monday morning when you, Nanami Kento's wife, were turned into a cat.
"An unusual Curse," Shoko had said, "not longer than a week, surely--"
"Not--not longer than a week?!" Kento spluttered, his glasses lopsided, and, dangled in front of him beneath the arms (legs-- legs, he reminded himself)...you.
You, with two pointed ears, a long whippy tail, your many toe-beans and a perturbed little head-tilt. On the doctors' office couch, a neatly folded (if a little furry) pile of your clothes.
"Meow," you had said.
"Don't 'meow' me," Kento spluttered again, fixing you with a stern look that barely overlaid his concern. You simply stared up at him, long, and feline, and unblinking...and reached out one little paw, pressing it onto the end of his nose.
Kento sighed; a bone-deep, weary sigh. Shoko put out her cigarette, speaking through a haze of smoke.
"Like I said. Give it a week, and Mrs.Nyanyami will be back to nor--"
"What did you just call her?'
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Mrs.Nyanyami, the cat formerly known as Nanami Kento's wife, wanted for nothing.
"I think that tuna's more expensive than anything I've ever eaten," whispered Yuuji to Gojo. On the other side of the conference room, you sat upon the desk before Kento, waiting patiently for the next lump of tuna (meticulously cut into cat-appropriate cubes) to be delivered in his chopsticks.
As Kento's hand approached, you held it close with paw and claws, to steal the pink fish from him. He looked like a surgeon performing heart surgery.
"I just...dont know how he can look so serious while he's doing that," Gojo whispered back, to Yuuji's frantic nods. Still, they watched this freakish nature documentary with quiet obsession.
A higher-up sat down beside Kento, waiting for the meeting to begin. Jolting back, and grumbling, he did a double take.
"Young man-- you can't bring a cat to a Sorcerer's meeting--"
"That's not a cat," Kento snapped, frosty, "that's my wife."
And so began the rumour amongst the higher-ups, that Nanami Kento had gone mad.
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"You should leave her at home--"
"--absolutely not--"
"--really, Nanami...just put the television on, she'll be fine--"
"--unequivocally, no--"
"--why not?!"
Silence. An awkward shuffle on Kento's thick chest. You peeked your head out of the pocket of the cat-carrying hoodie that Kento wore over his shirt and tie, and turned to Gojo with narrowed eyes.
"Meow," you had said, batting at Kento's strings, and hooking his tie out with your paw, to kick it to death with your legs.
"I agree," said Kento, whispering and scratching you beneath the chin until you purred, "he's wrong, isn't he? Stupid Gojo. You'd get lonely. You'd get bored. Yes you would..."
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"Oh my god...he's gorgeous...you should get his number--"
"--I'm not brave enough...you go. I'll get our coffees."
"--okay, okay..." The woman cleared her throat, sweeping her hair behind one ear with her best smile. Kento looked up from his coffee, with one finely raised eyebrow.
"Can I help you?" He lied, unwilling to help anyone at all before he'd finished his croissant.
"Hi, yeah, I just...can't help but notice you're sitting alone, and my friend-- well she-- she just wondered if she can have your number, and--"
The woman broke off into shrieks. Climbing up her leg, all claws and furry vengeance, was you. She shook her leg, shrieking. You hissed. Your cup of steamed milk clattered over the table, slopping everywhere.
"--o-oh my god-- oh my god, what the hell is this cat doi--"
"I'm sorry," Kento sighed, not sorry at all and dabbing his mouth with a napkin and doing absolutely nothing to help, "it's my cat. She doesn't like company--"
Hisses. Claws. Dirty feral yowls.
"Get this fucking thing off me--"
"I can't take you anywhere. No more steamed milk for you."
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At times, you seemed so human. At others, undeniably cat.
Kento would wake to clattering from the kitchen, bleary and feeling around for you, only to remember, and trace his hand up to the furry, round little patch you'd leave behind on your pillow. He allowed himself just a moment of misery, before getting up.
He followed the sounds of cups and kettle and coffee machine, and leaned against the doorway with sleep-mussed hair and a squinting, teenagerish glare.
You were up on the counter, all four paws and determination. You had gotten as far as switching the kettle and coffee machine on, and heaving the cupboard open with your tiny limbs. Kento watched as you tipped your head sideways, managing to drag two mugs out in your teeth. He winced as they almost smashed upon the counter.
"Come on," Kento rumbled, his voice rusty with sleep, "let me do that."
You meowed at him, batting at the air with one angry paw when he stepped closer. Kento huffed, raising his hands in surrender.
"Fine," he tutted, "but I'll pour the water."
"Meow."
"Why? Because you don't have opposable thumbs, darling."
The fur stood up along your spine. You turned around, and around, in a circle, then sat upright. You turned your back on him while you waited for the kettle to boil. Your tail flicked from side to side, irritable. Kento waited, too, reaching out one hand to stroke your ears.
You nudged your back paw out, and pushed his mug off the side to smash on the floor.
Silence.
"...what is wrong with y--"
"Meow."
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Skitterskitterskitter.
Distant meows.
Kento groaned, rubbing down his face. He checked the clock, frog-blinking; two in the morning. He groaned harder.
Skitterskitterskitter.
Thunk.
More distant meows.
"Please just come back to bed," Kento moaned into the hands pressed over his face.
SkitterskitterskitterSKITTERSKITTER-- rustlllleerussstle--
Directly over his face.
"Meow--"
"I am begging you--"
RustlerustleTHNKskitterskitterskitter.
Distant meows.
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"I miss you."
You raised your head to look at him. Your purring hitched. Your ears tilted.
Kento had murmured, his low voice barely audible. The only light in the living room was the ever-changing light of the television screen. Laid on his back on the sofa, with you curled on his chest, Kento stroked down your back with longing.
You crept up his chest, pressing your cold wet nose to his, and purred. Nose to nose, and cross-eyed, Kento could have cried.
"I really miss you," he repeated, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Your claws dug into his chest, just a little. You rub, rub, rubbed your warm furry head along his jaw until he sniffled, and gave a choked little chuckle.
He fell asleep with you on his chest that night. In so many ways, it was familiar; home. In so many others, you were gone forever.
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"Meow."
Kento shuffled. His chest felt heavy...warm. His belly felt warm, too. And his lap, and--
Kento's eyes shot open, his head lifting up from the couch.
You bit your lip, naked on top of him, and smiling. Human. An angel.
"Oh, my love," Kento moaned, crushing you to him in a bear hug from shoulder to toes, "you're back-- I missed you, I was so worrie--"
You batted an arm out, swiping last night's wine glass from the coffee table beside you, to shatter on the floor.
Silence. Kento blinked slowly, looking from the wine glass, to you. You felt your cheeks grow hot, swallowing hard.
"God, I...sorry, Kento. Force-- force of habit--"
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luminni · 2 days ago
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I have a feeling Johnny would try and set up Simon with one of his friends
like
“M’ tellin ya mate yer going tae like ‘er,” Johnny teased, bounding a couple steps in front of Simon, turning back to him and rocking back and forth on his heels, hands shoved into his pockets to protect them from the cold. As Price often quipped, the 'scott can't stand still for the life of him.'
“Mhm,” Simon just grumbled in response.
“See mate, That’s the attitude that scares all the girls away.” Johnny commented, hands outstretched and exaggerated.
“Whatever.” Simon huffed, shaking his head. Johnny wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything with a girl that wasn’t a quick lay, and even then it had been months, not to mention going out on a proper date. Well, a date was a stretch, you were Johnny’s close friend for a couple years. He had heard of you, but never met you and now Johnny was insisting that he go on a date with you because he was convinced it was going to work well, Simon wasn’t convinced in the slightest.
“She’s real nice though- so put away the tough guy act big man- girls don’t like that.” Simon couldn’t believe he was getting dating advice from his sergeant, so he just doubled down and kept scowling but Johnny kept pressing. “I'm telling you she's a real sweet girl, kinda lass who would try tae make a crying baby laugh on the tube or go and feed some mangy stray dog, perfect for a prickly bastard like yerself.”
“Okay okay, Jesus. ’s not like ’m going to scare ‘er off on purpose.” Simon relented 
“You better not, gettin' laid might do ya' some good man, calm yer ass down a wee bit” Johnny chuckled
Simon would have yelled at him for that comment but his friend cut him off, “‘Kay we’re ‘ere,” Johnny chirped, “Gaz and his girl should be inside already and she’ll be ‘ere soon,” Johnny said, pushing his Lt. through the pub door.
Johnny had invited Kyle and his girlfriend for a kind of double date situation because he thought having another girl there would help you feel more comfortable, something Simon couldn’t argue with. Why Johnny’s single ass would be attending was a mystery.
and he's been playing both sides
“Ya like serious guys right?” Johnny had asked you out of the blue, a week or so prior while hanging out at your flat.
“Uh yeah sure? I mean I guess so, more than immature assholes like you.” You had joked back across the small kitchen.
“Well,” He had began, unphased by your teasing, “There’s this guy I work with-”
“Don’t even.” you cut him off
“Wha'?!” he whined
“Don’t try and set me up with one of your military bros,” you warned, “I’m not interested.”
“Jus' 'cause yer last dates 'ave been busts doesnae mean you shouldn't keep tryin’,” He pleaded, catching the sponge you threw at him, “He’s a real good guy, kinda intimidating but you’d like him, promise!”
You glared at him before going back and forth, Johnny was really trying to sell this guy, and he wasn’t wrong, your last three dates had been nothing short of disasters. So, after lots of pleading -and a couple tasteful photos from them at the gym- you agreed. So as you walked closer and closer to the pub, your nerves were buzzing. Just gotta get past his tough exterior is all, Johnny’s words of advice rang through your head. Thankfully he had invited another one of his friends there along with his girlfriend, you would have been hyperventilating if it was just going to be you and some guys. As you reached for the door, you could only hope Johnny was right about this guy.
So, who would be surprised when it actually works out, when Simon actually falls in love with you and your sweet smile at first site. When you find his corny and sometimes morbid jokes genuinely funny, having to cough around your drink to prevent spitting it out.
Johnny's just happy Simon might finally chill out, and he won't have to listen to you complain about failed dates every other week.
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saymio · 1 day ago
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Little Girls Shouldn't Be Out Alone
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Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!reader
Summary: running away from home might've been the worst decision of your life.. but its not because youre homeless now, its because you met him.
Warning: dead dove do not eat, brief knife play, dubcon, light bdsm, kidnapping/stalking, age gap, mentions of suicide + more.
A/N: not proof read. I tried doing the salesman justice..I promise
6.9k Words
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...
the scene you were in was so cliche it was almost funny. your mother died not too long ago, and it was really hard for you because she was the one person in your life that seemed to really care about you. she was everything you wanted to be in life..growing up she was your idol, and to this day she still is... you just wished you had noticed it sooner.. maybe if you did you could've prevented it.. prevented her suicide. its been 2 months but it still haunts your brain, the scene of it. you wanted to throw up thinking about it. her bright smile ceased to exist, her intelligence couldnt impress you any more. it all ended with the gun going off in her mouth..intelligence splattered all over the walls of her shared bedroom with the gun laying next to her... and in result of your mothers suicide your father had to take you in. they had divorced when you were around 4 years old...you don't remember much. but living with him made you realize, your mother did the best choice she could've made then..even if she cried over it for years.
your father was an alcoholic, he didn't abuse you with hits and violence but he abused you with words. blaming you from the divorce and suicide of your mother. you tried to not let it get to your head..it wasn't your fault and he knew it. if anything the blood of your mother stained his hands.. but with the never lasting tournament he inflicted on you a part of you thought maybe he was right...maybe she didn't end her life over you but you could've prevented it. you were the closest person to your mother and vice versa..so..how did you never notice it? her suffering? did you miss all the signals..how stupid were you... she ended her life and you did nothing about it. you were useless...as per usual...
anyways...as you were saying. the scene you stood in the middle in was so cliche, it was like it belonged in a teenagers wattpad story. you were crouched down in an alley way, rain soaking you and everything around you as you sobbed into your hands. you couldn't live with your father anymore, you just couldn't. you knew if you stayed just one week longer..you'd follow your moms footsteps.. you hated this, you just wanted to live a happy normal life. apply for a nice university, move into a dorm, and visit your mom and dad during breaks... but the world wanted otherwise. here you were, drenched in water as you sat in the middle of nowhere...you had run away from home. you had no idea what to do next. your covered your backpack in a plastic bag but it barely helped. all your necessities were wet and your money was probably soggy by now. you're so stupid. couldve you just checked the forecast. to make sure the day you run away from home was a day the weather wouldn't freeze you alive? you couldnt do anything, nothing at all. should you just head back home? deal with your fathers screams for just a few months more before you could save up and move out? or should you just stay here..soggy and homeless... you knew what you were going to do... you'd stay here. you could take what the world would throw at you. you knew you could..but you just couldn't take another second of your dads tormenting. hes probably hoping you went off and jumped off a bridge or something..ending your fate just like your mother did.
you had fallen asleep, it was still raining and cold...but it was notably less than before. you were shivering, shaking in both fear and how frigid you were feeling. your teeth were clattering and you were being hyper aware of everything around you. if someone comes up to me all scary and intimidating I'll throw my backpack at them. it'll give me time to run away.. the sound of cars driving on the slippery wet roads filled your ears ever so often...the street was dead. if something happened to you no one would know.. squish squish squish you could hear the sound of foot steps echo around the streets...and it was getting louder..closer... until... "what are you doing here." a man holding an umbrella was standing Infront of you, he looked neat and tidy. the opposite of what you looked like at the moment. his suit was ironed to perfection, not a wrinkle in site. his hair slicked back neatly with gel.. and his features... they were striking and fierce.. he was handsome.. he tilted his head to the side and stared at you with his souless dark eyes. "well?" his tone wasnt soft but it wasn't stern either...it was like he was asking a child if they could hand him over the toy they've been playing with... you gulped down the lump that was forming inside your throat. "n-nothing..nothing important.." you spoke, barely over a whisper. you were nervous and scared. you felt like something was off about him, he just seemed too good to be true. handsome men like him always have something they hide from the rest of the world. he raises his right eyebrow at you, obviously not believing that you were doing nothing.. "do you need help? I could get you a new pair of clothes. this area is dangerous, did you know that?" he smiled at you, but it wasn't genuine at all. it was like one of annoyance...if he was so annoyed why would he offer a hand to you? it didn't make sense... you stared up at him from the floor, you felt like a stray puppy left in a box. and he was here to pick you up and become your new owner.. you knew this was probably a bad idea, you knew he was bad business. but.... you were so scared and cold in the rain..what would be worse than this? "yeah...I need help.." you spoke softly, you refused to look at him as you did so. you felt embarrassed....asking a stranger for help because of a stupid mistake you did with your own free will..you're pathetic... "great, I'd love to help you. follow me." he spoke, but it didn't seem like he was glad or happy to be at help at all.. he spoke with a deadpan voice, as if he was bored and wanted to get this over with. was this some sort of community service thing he has to do? help the homeless during the rain? whys he acting like he's being forced at gunpoint to do this... you got up from the ground, all wet and soaked in rain water. you felt so uncomfortable you wanted it to end..you grabbed your bag and followed him at a small distance... he lead you to a car. a black suv, it was clean and pretty...and it looked warm. you kept walking until you were right next to him, was he gonna let you inside the car? but you'd make it dirty and wet..and was this even a good idea??? heading inside a strange mans car in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.. but you didnt have much time to think much about it as he had opened a door to the car..the interior was a lot like him. clean, tidy and sleek... "well? get inside, don't worry about getting it wet. I don't mind." he smiled at you again, with the same fake smile that made your skin crawl because of the sheer eeriness to it. "ah- yes okay..." you crawled into the car, your wet clothes making a slight squeaky sound against the material of the car seat.. you set your bag next to you as he slammed the door shut...and it was pretty aggressive. the loud slam that echoed through the streets from it made you flinch as you stared at him walking around the car to the drivers seat.
you were sitting on the toilet, inside of this strange mans house...I mean, nothing happened yet so you should be safe right?... you turn to look at the shower that was running, waiting for the water to turn warm..and then you stared at the folded clothes. he grabbed some clothes he thought would fit you and sent you to the bathroom with it. you were confused, he was being nice..but for what? it seemed like he didn't want anything from you..maybe he was a little annoyed but he was still helping you.. he seemed normal.. you were so confused. he even put the clothes you were wearing and the clothes that got wet in your backpack into the washer. maybe humanity is just getting better and he's truly just a kind man who wants to help? you stare around in the bathroom, its almost all white with black accents. it was very modern and clean..paintings on the walls that probably cost more than your houses rent..because truthfully this man was obviously very rich. his house was huge and it seemed like he had rows and rows of guest rooms..it was impressive. maybe he was just a snobby rich guy that was trying to fix his attitude. so maybe that's why he seemed so annoyed and put off with you.. he was trying to fix his views on dirty poor people by helping them!! that had to be it..you just cracked the code!! you smirk to yourself and give yourself an imaginary pat on the back before checking the water to see if it was hot now..and when it was you stepped into the shower. the warm water fell onto your body, like it was engulfing you in a tight hug. even though you were in a strangers house, in an area you didn't even know existed...you felt like you were at home. taking a warm shower, getting ready to go out with your mom..... you and the strange man haven't spoken much, he just gave you clothes, put your old clothes in the washer, gave you food and sent you to a guest room.. he was cold, you'd expect a man that was willing to help a stranger from the streets to be nice..and warmer. but he wasn't. you were getting curious about him, what was his name? where did he work? why'd he even help you...but you decided to stay in your place. at the end of the day, you two were still strangers who would never meet again after this. the thought kind of left a pang in your heart. you wanted to know more about him..maybe..maybe he'll want to stay in touch..? but you highly doubted that considering how cold and silent he was. he probably just felt pity seeing such a young girl sleeping in the rain on the streets...he didn't do this to get close. just to make himself feel better.. that's how rich people just are.. you sighed and stared up at the ceiling of the room..you'd be out of there by tomorrow, left in the streets all alone again. you felt your eyelids getting heavy, you started to black out until you closed your eyes and fell asleep..sound asleep.
you woke up to the sound of knocking on the bedroom door, you could only assume it was the man that helped you last night because..who else could it be? you woke up, still droopy as you stretched and looked out the windows. it was bright out now...it was time to get up... you didn't want to but that didn't matter because this wasn't even your house. you got out of the bed and put the slippers the man gave you on. you pulled the shirt that was slipping off your shoulder up as you lazily shuffled your way to the door and creaked it open. you started up at the taller man, again in his neat suit and styled hair. he always manages to unintentionally..or maybe intentionally embarrass you. "still sleepy, huh? you should change and put your clothes in your bag. breakfast is being made." he flashes you another smile...a fake forced smile. its like he doesn't know how to smile or something...you just slowly nod your head at him before he turns around and leaves... you were hoping he'd get the sense of pity again and let you stay longer. you wouldn't mind being treated llke shit here if it meant you got to stay in this house. but of course..people don't like it when cockroaches sneak inside. you closed the door In front of you and did the bed. you didn't want to leave with a bad impression In case he even gets this weird savior complex again..you did the bed and packed your clothes, you headed your way downstairs to the kitchen with your bag in hand...that smell..it smelled like home. the smell of bacon filled your senses as you got closer and closer down the stairs. you haven't smelled something like that in the morning since your mother died, she would always make you eggs, bacon and toast. it was simple but you loved it. you just wished you had savored it more because with no shocker,, your dad doesn't cook. at all. you almost always order something and if you don't you're the one cooking. but even then, he always complains about how shitty your food tastes..even though you know its not true. you finally get to the end of the staircase, the stairs end right near the kitchen so you get a good look at what's going on. it seems he has a personal chef cooking up breakfast as he's sat at the table, sipping on coffee while on his phone. "ahem.." you awkwardly announce your presence to the man at the table, he stares up at you with a blank face. eyes full of nothing but darkness..the more you stare the scarier he gets. as if he were a walking body with no soul inside of him. "sit down. breakfast is almost finished." he speaks blankly, just like his face. something about the atmosphere feels a lot more awkward than before. it seems he isn't even bothering to smile at you like earlier...maybe something happened while you got changed? or maybe he's just not a morning person...you wouldn't really know but you started day dreaming. wondering about his life. maybe its because of how mysterious he is, or his face or wealth..you weren't really sure but something about him allured you. you wanted to know more even if he didn't want to know more about you. you didn't really care if the interest was one sided. you were just too curious... but again, not your place.. at least you felt like it wasn't..he was clearly not interested in having small talk with you. like at all. you didn't want to annoy him more than he seemingly already was. you wanted him to help you again because truthfully, no matter how scary he was or seemed..he was still helping you.. and you need the help. and appreciated it.. minutes passed and nothing was even muttered, a small cough or creak of the chair every now and then but that was it...and the silence was deafening. it was so awkward you could die..you were fiddling with your fingers waiting for the food, you almost just wanted to ask if you could leave now and that you didn't want to eat but.. that would be rude, and you didn't want to be rude. so you just sat still, letting the silence explode your eardrums. . .
"your food is ready" those four words felt like an angel had just saved you from hell, you were about to explode from the tension. and it wasn't the good kind. "ah, thank you!" you bowed your head at the lady that cooked the breakfast as she walked away.. you looked at your plate and then at the mans non existent one..he wasn't going to eat breakfast? he has seen your confused stares because he set his phone down and placed his chin on his hand, he was staring right at you. "I don't eat breakfast. I was just waiting for you to get your food." he stared at you before smiling at you, it wasn't as eerie or fake as the other smiles he's given you but..it was exactly genuine either. like a pity smile..something along those lines. "oh..thank you for waiting.." you bowed your head at him too before you began to eat..it was the same breakfast..the same one your mother had always made for you..what were the odds?..right? you felt yourself getting emotional, eating this simple breakfast just reminded you of your mother. but you couldnt cry Infront of this man...he'd probably just stare at you and do nothing about your sad state...you didn't feel like embarrassing yourself like that. not Infront of this stranger. . . . . "I finished..." you stare up at him, your entire plate is finished due to not eating all day yesterday. he stared at your plate and then at you, you felt kind of embarrassed..like he was judging you for eating.. "okay, should I leave you where I found you or at a house" he stared at you with a blank face, emotionless as he awaited your answer. you help in a frown at the way he worded it, sure he found you but...it felt like he was referring to you as if you were a stray animal. you bit the inside of your right cheek, you really didn't want to go. you wanted to stay safe in shelter but you didn't have a choice...you could either ask him to take you back to the place you dreaded the most, or a place you dreaded a little less... "take me back to the alley way you saw me in.." you stared at your lap as he nodded. he pushed his chair back before taking one last sip of his coffee. "follow me to the car." he pushed his chair back under the table as you got up right after him... I guess now my journey as a homeless person really starts now...I need to find a job soon...
time skip
its been a couple of days since the strange man helped you from the alley way. your delusional side tells you one day he'll be back for you so you sleep there everynight, letting a dumpster bin hide your sleeping body from those who pass by the alley way. todays its been awfully gloomy, cloudy, windy and cold.. you were hoping it wouldn't rain since you didn't want to stay there cold and wet again..and you highly doubted the man would be back for you if it did...you spent most of these days searching for a job, with no avail.. rejection after rejection ...it was wearing you down... how long would you even hold up for in these streets? you were barely 20 but you were already on the streets. not like you had a choice. it was either suicide or homelessness for you.. you decided to just take a break from searching for jobs today. you didn't have much money left from your savings but you had enough spare change to go to put your dirty clothes and buy an ice cream in the park nearby...you went looking around for a big enough plastic bag to cover your backpack in. you had a feeling it would rain hard again, you could smell it even. and you didn't want to play princess waiting for her knight in shining armor to come save her. you need to think ahead..and be smart..
as always..you were right. it was going to rain today, and it was raining hard. it brought you back to the day you were found by the man all cold and scared in the rain. you were lucky he didn't rape you, you were too trusting of him.. you were once again shuffled up in the alley way, wet and cold. you were sitting on the ground hugging yourself while your backpack sat next to you. at least you found a bag for it, at most it'd get a little wet but nothing compared to last time... your hair and clothes were soaked, you could feel water droplets form on your eyelashes as you tried to wipe away the water that was landing on your face with your equally as wet hands. you were scared..again. you were hoping to god the man would come back, you even place your backpack in view to the street and road Incase he passed by..he would know you were still there. your entire body was ice cold, your breath, fingers, clothes, you were freezing.. after a few hours of sitting in the rain you decided that it was about time you just go to sleep..no one was going to come by and save you again. you leaned your head onto the dumpster next to you and fell asleep. the sheer cold and wetness of the situation didn't leave your senses but..it was almost like you had forgotten about it while you slept. . . . "again?" you heard a voice, a very familiar voice..you jumped out of your sleep and looked up at the person standing infront of you. it was the man that had helped you last time this happened. you felt your cheeks warm up, both at how embarrassing this was, and how sweet (?) it was.. he came back to check on you. whether it was out of worry or pity, you couldn't tell. but either way it made you happy to see someone checking up on you. he just started at you, with the same dark, soulless eyes as always. he just turned around and started walking away. you didn't know whether you should follow him or not..but you trusted your guts and you did. he led you to the same suv as before, it even looked the same. clean, sleek..like you hadn't gotten it dirty that day you got in. "get in" he stared at you, waiting for your response. his sentence threw you off a little, it was as if he was commanding you...but you didn't pay much attention and got inside the car. watching him as he slammed the door again..and walked around the car into the drivers seat. he was still the same.. but in his defense its only been 4 days since he had helped you.
you two were sitting at the dining table, his cook had made the two of you steak with some veggies.. you weren't that hungry but you still ate to be respectful..the same awkward silence corrupted a seemingly 'wholesome' moment. you wanted to say something, it was itching inside your throat. you just wanted to ask his name so you didn't have to call him a stranger anymore.. but he still didn't seem interested. why the hell would he help you if he wasn't interested in even getting to know your name? this was the second time. and even if he denied it was obvious he went there for you..to help you. "you, what's your name." he had put down his fork and knife and stared at you, obviously asking you the question. but you still felt unsure if you should answer. what if he was looking at someone else..or what if he was insane and talking to himself..you were so lost in your thoughts you didn't even notice how his face was changing. he was getting irritated with you. "well? I asked you a question." his voice was more stern than before, his eyebrows were raised and he looked at you with an expression you couldn't read. it was probably annoyance though. "oh- I'm sorry..I've just been kind of out of it...my names y/n" you stared at him and give him an awkward smile. you fiddled with your fingers under the table, you didn't know if he was going to keep talking. "I can tell. well y/n, what are you doing outside all alone? don't tell me you're this young and so in debt you had to go homeless." he stared at you, his facial expression changing to disappointment. but you ignored that and processed what he said first, what does he mean he can tell? did he bring you here just to insult you?? you internally scoffed before shaking your head not to him. "I'm thanfully not in any debt... I just left my home for personal reasons.." you weren't staring at his face but you could tell his facial expression changed, he simply just hummed at you and took a sip of his wine. "what about you? what's your name..and how old are you? you felt it was fair to ask him questions back since he had asked you some. it isn't rude to just be curious right? "you can just call me sir. and I'm 42 years old.. old, huh?" he sarcastically laughed and took a sip of his wine. all that you were thinking was, why was he trying to be so mysterious?? "oh..okay..sir" it felt awkward calling him sir, what if it was a weird kink of his..he could've atleast given you a fake name if he wanted to be like that.. . . . . "thank you for helping me again sir" you bowed at him, not too 90 degree angle but just enough for your thankfulness to be clear. "I appreciate it." you smiled at him, and unlike his smiles..yours was genuine. you truly were happy to have been 'safe' from the rain. even if it soaked you for a while... you were at the alley way again, the sky still looked cloudy and sad. you were scared itd rain again but that's a worry youd have to think of for later. "youre welcome y/n." he just gave you another fakeass smile, the one that's painfully obvious like he's doing it on purpose before he got into his car and drove off. leaving you there to figure out what you should do if it does rain again. but you werent too worried..maybe he'd come back..?
history repeats its self, at least it was for you. you kept finding yourself hugging yourself for warmth in the same alley way, with the same rain pouring down on you. was this strange man gonna save you from this rain aswell or has he given up on saving you from the cruel weather. maybe its still you gulp up the courage to go back home because the weather was driving you insane. the mans help wasn't even helping , it was just giving you a false sense of hope. you sat there for hours, under the pouring rain. and even worse, this time it was thundering. your skin was cold and freezing, every inch of you was soaked in water. you wanted to melt into the ground, the scene was so pathetic. you were pathetic. . . . after what felt like an eternity you came to the conclusion he truly wasn't going to help you. you were nothing but a prop to fuel his ego.. you let your heavy eyelids close as the rains soaked you and everything around it... you would just sleep it out..and find somewhere to sleep that wouldn't leave you like this. . . . you fluttered your eyes open not long after you had fallen asleep. you weren't fully awake yet but you have a strange feeling that someone was looking over you...watching you... you turned your head and rubbed your eyes. you stared at the person watching you, it was the strange man!! he was here to save you from the rain one last time.. your eyes brightened as you stared at him, but something was off. he was holding something..your eyes were a little fuzzy so you couldnt see properly but you knew it wasn't an umbrella like always..he was also getting soaked in the rough rain. before you could ask him about it you felt something hard hit your head. like you've just been struck a pipe... you stared up at the man, eyes going droopy as you fell to the ground... did he just hit you? what...what was happening..why you..?
you woke up in a barely lit, red room. you were confused and scared. you didnt remember much.. just the fact that you were hit by some sort of pole and woke up here. did karma finally get to you for not helping your mom in her time of need? were you going to get raped and killed here?? you started to hyperventilate, you wanted to scream for help but you found it hard to even make noise..your throat was closing and it felt like you were going to pass out again.. your breaths were rapid and your body was shaking. you wanted to get away but you couldnt. your wrists were bound to a chair that seemed to be super glued to the floor. you were pulling at the restraints, you were gasping for air. your eyes were slit as they darted around the room..looking for anyone that could help you... "fuck you look so hot when you're scared" a figure walked out from the shadows of the room...it was the man that had been saving you from the rain??! his dark eyes pierced holes into your head, you were trying to process what the fuck was happening.. he stepped closer to you and stopped right Infront of you. you pushed against the floor and chair, trying to find a way to magically get away. your eyes were wide and filled to the brim with fear, your breathing only got worse as you started to let out choked sobs. "p-please..don't do anything to me please..please.. let me go....I wont..tell anyone..please" you closed your eyes shut, not wanting to look at the man that you were hoping just hours ago would come save you. when you wanted to be saved you didn't mean it like this.. your salty tears dripped from your chin onto the collar of the dry shirt you were wearing. it seemed while you were out he had changed you out of your wet clothes and into the same pair you had worn last time you were here.. your head held low as you were sobbing for your dear life, he hasnt done anything to you yet but you knew he was going to. his cold hands touched your chin, yanking it up to stare at him. the action only made you sob harder, your eyes still glued shut. you didn't want to look at him, you did- "open your eyes and stare at me if you don't want to end up dead." you flinched and opened your eyes quickly, your large eyes stared up at his. they were wet and teary...you just wanted to be free..you didn't want to be here..before you could act upon anything he leaned down and licked one of your eyes, licking away the forming tears that were prickling at the corner of it. you didn't know if this was some sort of weird kink of his or if he did it just to make you uncomfortable but you hated it. it felt uncomfortable and too in your space. you hated this foul man. disgusting. your face was a mixture of uncomfortability, anger and fear. and he loved it. "I love that weird face you're making, doll, keep doing it" he smirked at you..he was staring you down. making you even more uncomfortable than before. he was a freak, was he into peoples pain or something?? can he just let you go.. he stared at you even longer..inspecting every little movement your face made...he loved it. he loved seeing you in discomfort and fear. it fit you, really well. "ever since I've seen you I've been mesmerized... don't mistaken my words as a confession though. this isn't love. this is desire." he reached his hand out to your head, patting and petting you. ruffling your hair and making it all messy..as if you were his pet. "you know, when I saw you..I thought to myself.. 'little girls shouldn't be out alone'..especially in the rain.. where gross men like me could stick their slimy dicks inside you with no consequence." his hand wandered down from your hair to your cheek, down to your neck.. his large hand gripped at your neck, causing you to squirm under the fear he might choke you to death. his eyes and list scrunched into a smile as his hand pressed on your neck, watching you squirm under his grip. "I wouldn't kill you before putting my dick inside you. so calm down, will you?" he grips tighter around your neck as his other hand crawls its way down up body....
he stripped the clothes you had on from your body, you were sitting on the chair, naked. your wrists are still bounded to the chair so you couldn't move or go anywhere. you felt so gross. a random middle aged man was manhandling your tits, grabbing them so hard it left red marks on them. you were holding in moans, you were scared but fuck did his hands feel good on your sensitive nipples. but you didn't want him to know you didn't want him to know you were feeling go- "AH!~" you let out a mixture of a scream and a moan, his right hand had snuck its way down from your chest to your now wet pussy. he shoved two fingers inside, no warning, no prep, just shoved them in. only using the wetness of your pussy to help his movements. your back arched against the chair, you were moaning in both pain and pleasure now. he was handling you like a piece of meat, roughly 'massaging' your boobs and ruining your insides. he made rough scissor motions with his fingers, occasionally curling them inside of you. it hurt so bad, it hurt. so. bad. "you cried and sobbed like you didn't want this but look at you now. moaning under me. you were even wet when I put my fingers in. slut." his voice was deep and full of need,, he took his hand away from your tits before he slapped you. really hard. the skin on your cheek stung and was probably starting to turn red.. but it felt good..even thought you didn't want this, and all you wanted to do was go home...his fingers..they felt too good to go back. "fuck I wanna make you go through so much pain, I want to ruin you. fuck." his fingers continued to ravish your insides as he shamelessly started to rub his hard on. he was getting so turned on by this. a scared young girl, pleasuring the older scary guy Infront of her so he can make it out alive.. he wanted more. he took his hand out of your pussy, your clit was twitching. needy for more. you whined at him, you wanted to cum, you wanted to release.. you wanted it all... he scoffed at you before spitting onto your face and giving you another harsh slap. "stop complaining bitch, be grateful anyone would even want to fuck a dirty mutt like you." he tsk'd at you before turning around and grabbing something from a small box nearby. your heart was pounding, your mind was racing and your hole was pulsing. the way he disrespected you, the way he spoke to you.. it turned you on. were you just needy for approval and wanted to do what it takes to impress the guy? or maybe it was so you could keep your life..or maybe you were just insanely horny. you didn't even know at this point. you didn't know what was taking over you. the man turned around...holding a knife. you started to feel your heart race in fear again, your breath hitched as you tried to push away from the chair...and of course you couldn't. he stepped closer, and closer, an closer. until he was barely inches away from you. he raised the knife and pointed it at your stomach, pushing it into your skin.. not enough to stab you or make your bleed, but enough for it to hurt. it was like getting a shot at the doctors office that lasted too long for your comfort. you shifted under the knife, you were uncomfortable. not that scared but you were anxious..you didn't like the thought of a sharp knife being pushed onto the skin of your stomach that much.. "you look cute like this. I would cut you but I don't think it's time for that right now." he smiled at you, like you had just won a grand prize..and frankly you think you did. you didn't want to deal with more pain than what you were already feeling. he put the knife down, dropping it onto the floor. your pupils were blown. he looked so hot like this. it was scary but, hot as fuck. "opinions on getting your insides ruined?" he spoke, flashing his signature fake smile.
you were finally free from the chair, your wrists felt so much better. they felt less imprisoned.. but you didn't have much time to think about that as your insides were getting rearranged by the man you had once found safety in. you were in missionary, your thighs were rubbing against the skin of your stomach. loud gross sounds of skin slapping and wet pussy filled the room, he was filling you up. you let out loud unstable moans as he ruined you. his face was stuffed into the crook of your neck as he bit and nipped at it harshly. leaving dark bruises and hickeys on it as he kept slamming into you. your felt sweat dribble from your forehead as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. it felt. so good. you could hear him panting, louder and louder as his dick was hitting places you couldn't dream of reaching on your own. it hurt a lot, it felt like you were going to get split open any second now but..the pleasure..the pleasure of your pain and of his thick cock was flooding your brain. you'd worry about the pain later.. "fuck you look so hot when your insides are getting blown out" he grips at your neck, hard as he fucks you like a ragdoll. your hands fly to his, gripping and clawing at his hand. an attempt to unblock your airway, to no avail. his movements started to get rabid and sloppy, he was close. you knew he was. he let go of your neck, leaving a faint bruise due to his grip before he slapped your cheek again. the stinging, it only got worse. you felt like every inch of your body was getting ruined and beat. and truthfully, you loved it. "fuuu- fuuck.. sir- i- fuck..m' gonna cum! m' close! please let me cum! please please please!" your words were fast and sloppy, you were close, you needed to cum you needed it. he spat on your face again, making you feel like a disgusting piece of meat..but you loved it. you wanted to make him proud. he took his left hand and started to rub your clit as he slammed into you. each time it got faster and faster. "cum for me baby, show me how much you love my cock..fuuck.." you arched your back against the bed as it started to make a loud annoying squeaking sound from the rapid movements on it. "fu- ah~! fuckfuckfuckfuck yes yes please ah more more please ah ouh..~" your loud moans filled the room as you came all over his cock, leaving a white ring of sticky substance at the base of his dick. shortly after he came inside of you, filling you up with cum with a loud(ish) grunt. he didn't stop though, he kept moving, not only to help you out your high but to bring you to another. this man doesn't intend to stop until youre full of bruises and unable to walk..
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Another note: I REALLY HOPE THIS IS GOOD, I fr spent all day on this (started at 8am, its already 8pm rn omfg) I hope I portrayed his character well, idk if I made him too mean or tame or wtv idk hshshhs, reqs are open!! pls check blog rules before u send them though:)
TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf
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oceanicwriting · 2 days ago
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my shirt.
summary: you and theodore have been dating for a few weeks now. one afternoon, he walks into your room without knocking, finding your body stretched out on the bed. what's so bad? you're only wearing his t-shirt and black underwear.
pairing(s): theodore nott x fem!reader
a/n: i was working on something a little more fun (theodore nott x vampire is coming), but it's taking me a little longer to write, so i brought something shorter for now. enjoy!
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+18 smut, cowgirl, praising, cursing
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ㅤㅤㅤ your body feels heavy, dragging your feet around the room as you lazily take off your uniform. you're not careful where the clothes fall, but that herbology exam had consumed any trace of energy left inside your body, and you just wanted to take the longest nap ever.
ㅤㅤㅤ you search for some pajamas in the dresser, but you can't find any clean ones. then, you spot the shirt theodore had forgotten the last time he slept with you. when you take it in your hands you can smell the soft notes of his cologne and decide to put it on to lie down in bed with your walkman headphones playing the music tape your boyfriend had given you.
ㅤㅤㅤ theodore, on the other hand, was on his way to your room after finishing his quidditch training. he really wanted to see you because he knew how exhausting your last Herbology exam had been. when he gets to your door, he makes a move to knock. however, he stops suddenly, thinking... after being in your bedroom so many times, would he still knock on the door? and maybe just for that one time, he should have knocked.
ㅤㅤㅤ you're lying on the bed wearing one of his t-shirts and black panties with a thin line of lace embracing your butt. even though he had seen you in skimpy clothes more than once, he had never seen you wearing one of his clothes and, for some reason, his body reacts to the attraction of your figure like never before.
ㅤㅤㅤ theodore leaves his bag next to the door, approaching you with stealthy steps. when he notices that you have the walkman headphones on, he carefully takes them off and gently moves your body to wake you up. it wasn't difficult because you're not a deep sleeper.
ㅤㅤㅤ —theo —you greet with a sleepy voice—. what are you doing here?
ㅤㅤㅤ he smiles, making your heart race at the tender gesture.
ㅤㅤㅤ —just checking on you. —theodore makes room on the bed, hugging you and kissing your face carelessly—. so?
ㅤㅤㅤ —it was exhausting, —you say, playing with his hair as his kisses move down your neck, making you laugh between your words—. you’re a little more affectionate today, aren’t you?
ㅤㅤㅤ you can hear the small growl that leaves his lips, feeling his hands move down to your waist.
ㅤㅤㅤ —what’s wrong?
ㅤㅤㅤ theodore pulls out from the crook of your neck, showing off his disheveled hair and pleading gaze. you can’t help but smile at the way his hands tangle in his shirt, pulling you until you crash against his pelvis and feel the hardness of his crotch.
ㅤㅤㅤ —you’re wearing my shirt. —you nod slowly, rubbing yourself against him—. and it looks so fucking cute on you.
ㅤㅤㅤ —you think so? —you whisper against his lips—. or are you biased by something else?
ㅤㅤㅤ theodore laughs.
ㅤㅤㅤ —biased by your beauty. nothing more.
ㅤㅤㅤ you hug his neck, pulling him towards your face to kiss him softly. the movement of his mouth against yours is as calm as you had expected, slowly deepening the feeling of butterflies exploding in your stomach at the simple contact. your entire body itches at the way his hands press on your waist, demanding and strong.
ㅤㅤㅤ then, straddling one leg over him, you turn to straddle his bulge. theodore cups your cheek with one of his hands, preventing you from pulling away when he intensifies the kiss with the intrusion of his tongue. your hips, on the other hand, begin to move against him.
ㅤㅤㅤ there’s a wave of soft moans and gasps colliding every time you part to catch your breath. theodore pulls off his shirt shortly after he sits you on top of him, breaking the kiss with ragged breaths. he moves his hands up from your waist to the softness of your breasts, squeezing and playing with your hardened nipples.
ㅤㅤㅤ —i think if you wore my shirts more often i’d lose my mind, —he whispers, as you moan at the feeling of his cold rings hitting your skin—. my girl.
ㅤㅤㅤ you make a move to take off the garment, but he stops you.
ㅤㅤㅤ —i want to fuck you with this on.
ㅤㅤㅤ the simple comment sends a heat to your wet core, and you unbutton theodore's pants to free his erect member.
ㅤㅤㅤ —come here, —he says, lifting his hand for you to lick two of his fingers—. come on.
ㅤㅤㅤ you shake your head, settling yourself on his lap and grabbing his cock to guide it to your entrance. theodore is perplexed for a moment but helps you by holding your panties to the side of your entrance, where you begin to take the length of his member between soft moans.
ㅤㅤㅤ —i just want you inside me, theo.
ㅤㅤㅤ he holds your body to help you carefully take the last bit of his member, gasping at the tight feeling of your hole and losing his mind at the way your weight presses against him. his hands travel over your body, which is adjusting to his size for a while, sending thousands of electrical signals to your brain.
ㅤㅤㅤ after a while you start to move in slow circles, going up and down little by little with the help of your legs and theodore's hands, who grunts every now and then at the feeling of your panties scraping his member already soaked with your liquids.
ㅤㅤㅤ —you're doing well, baby. —one of his hands travels to your ass, squeezing it and helping you keep a rhythm that manages to stir every part of your interior—. you're doing it perfectly.
ㅤㅤㅤ the feeling of theodore filling your insides feels like touching heaven itself. it's one where all the vibrant colors dye green and happy meadows, so happy that it's impossible not to want to stay there forever.
ㅤㅤㅤ from one moment to the next, your ups and downs become faster, always being held by the strength of your boyfriend who looks at you in ecstasy between his darkened eyes. the sound of your ass crashing against his pelvis was so delicious that you couldn't stop now that you heard it louder, feeling his cock sink deeper into you.
ㅤㅤㅤ —good. just like that, —theodore says, approving the way your body shudders even more on the length of his member—. you are doing it so well.
ㅤㅤㅤ your hands must rest on his chest from the increase in speed. suddenly, theodore’s free hand grabs the bottom of your shirt to bring it to your mouth. you look at him in confusion.
ㅤㅤㅤ —i just wanna see your breasts bounce, —he says, making you giggle and agree to take the bottom of the garment between your teeth, revealing the way your breasts move with you—. shit, you’re so cute.
ㅤㅤㅤ your movements haven’t slowed down, and theodore begins to pound upwards, drawing gasps from you that flush your cheeks in embarrassment. the sensation now begins to touch every part of your body, increasing a flame of pleasure that begins to burn everywhere.
ㅤㅤㅤ theodore brings his own thumb to his mouth, licking it and directing it to your clit, applying pressure and massaging quickly. you scream against your closed mouth, moaning and sighing at the wave of emotions traveling from your pussy.
ㅤㅤㅤ you could feel it, seven strokes later, his cock twitching inside you at the imminent threat of cumming. your body was close too, clenching your muscles and gasping for air. theodore hasn’t stopped stimulating your clit, while his hips meet your movement to deepen your sounds.
ㅤㅤㅤ —so perfect, love. just a little more. just give me a little more...
ㅤㅤㅤ —t-theo, i need you to kiss me —you say, letting the shirt fall from your mouth.
ㅤㅤㅤ you don’t know how, but theodore manages to sit up while he continues to help you with the thrusts and stimulates your clit, kissing you with difficulty at the lack of stillness. the kiss is what was missing so you could feel the sensations of your body reaching their point, shaking against his cock and clenching it as you feel his hot liquid fill you completely. you were done together.
ㅤㅤㅤ —i love when you do that, —he says, kissing your face as you catch your breath—. cumming in the middle of a kiss.
ㅤㅤㅤ his mouth leaves a soft peak that makes you laugh.
ㅤㅤㅤ —i just really love your kisses.
ㅤㅤㅤ he smiles, cleaning everything up with his shirt thrown on the floor.
ㅤㅤㅤ —will you stay with me? —you ask, letting yourself fall onto the bed as theodore leaves his shirt in the laundry. a shirt that would soon stay with you.
ㅤㅤㅤ —of course, do you think i would miss the opportunity to sleep with you in those pajamas? never.
ㅤㅤㅤ he throws himself next to you on the bed, pressing you against his chest as he forces you to tell in great detail the herbology exam, listening attentively and leaving soft kisses every now and then. that was the life you wanted to have forever.
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rindreamery · 2 days ago
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hi, nishi!!
first off, congrats again for 300 followers!
so, for the event, my character will be: itoshi sae.
flavor: spicy
add ons: topping 1- eye contact. topping 2: best friend's brother.
thank you, and take your time.
ORDER 8: READY TO GO !
sae + spicy + eye contact + best friend's brother w.c. 800+
note. thank you ira 🤍 and thank you for your patience with this !! ik i've been slacking a little with my posting schedule, but i swear i'll prioritize the event fics from now on before posting other fics. (my own personal time-out 😞)
interested in more? check out the lounge !
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stepping into the threshold of rin’s kitchen, the last person you had expected to see was sae. 
as far as you were aware, he was still supposed to be in spain for another two weeks. but rin had a habit of never telling you when sae had a change of plans, when he was was back, and, much to your dismay, when he was coming over. that was simply up to you to find out, for yourself, whenever you visited. 
like now. 
sae’s standing just a few feet away from you, leaning on the counter as he sips on the remainder of his water, eyes staring off into the window across the room. he’s clad in a plain tee and sweats, waistband hanging unreasonably low on his hips and giving you a clear view of his v-line, and his hair is unruly from having just woken up— yet, somehow, he manages to pull the look off. a little too well, you note to yourself. he looks a little too good, and it almost feels like a sin to check him out so blatantly, like it’s a sin to be thinking such things about him. maybe it is, in a way. 
you could already feel the pressure of rin’s judgemental stare, although not there physically, at the way you gawk openly at his brother. “gross, never call my brother ‘hot’ ever again,” his distant words echo somewhere in the back of your mind, reminding you that he’s not particularly fond of the idea of you cozying up with his brother. you had mentioned it in passing, once, as a joke, only to be met with distaste and a nasty side-eye. “it’s disturbing, so please, shut up.” 
you should take that as a sign; you should leave, clear your mind, and go back to minding your own business. acting like you don’t care all that much about him, despite your painfully obvious attraction. unfortunately, you were never truly known for your acting. because as you’re about to turn away, about to spin on your heel and walk back to rin’s room, you freeze in place.
your gaze gets caught on the way his biceps flex under the thin material of his shirt, the lines becoming more defined as he brings his drink up to his lips. hook, line, and sinker— the way you can’t seem to look away, even for just a second. your eyes hike down and then up the line of his bicep, and then his forearm, and then the hand that’s gripping onto the glass. equally distracted by the veins that decorate the skin on his hand, prominent as his fingers stretch around the glass. you’re distracted by him, in his entirety. 
you forget that you’re standing in his periphery, and the realization comes to you a second too late. 
sae’s eyes flicker over to you once he notices your presence, scanning down the length of your body as he does a brief once-over of you, one of his brows quirking up at the way you linger awkwardly at the entrance of the kitchen. he’s still sipping his drink, lips pressed tightly against the glass, but his eyes remain locked onto yours. they’re passive, unreadable like always, digging into your skin uncomfortably as the two of you stand there in silence. neither daring to say a word, or maybe, just not knowing what to say. 
you should feel embarrassed at the thought of having been caught, but you’re more flustered by the way he eyes you down. the weight of his stare is steady and intense, coupled with the dragging silence, and it makes you shift awkwardly on your feet. you’re about to clear your throat, come up with some lame excuse of forgetting what you needed from the kitchen, and booking it to rin’s room. but as your mouth opens to speak, sae cuts you off.
“nice outfit,” he says, voice low and even. you follow the way his eyes form a trail down your body, landing on the oversized shirt you were currently wearing. you can feel the way he lingers at the hem of your shirt, staring at the way it stops shy of your upper thighs. before they flick up back to meet your eyes, still passive, but now flickering with amusement?
you blink at him once, and then twice, and then a third time. “what?” you manage to sputter out, taken aback by the random compliment, feeling the surface of your skin burn from the way he had blatantly checked you out, too. but, also confused; you glance down at the shirt, noting that it was nothing worth complimenting. “uhm, thanks? rin lent them to me 'cause i spilled something on my clothes. they're comfy, at least."
the amusement flickers off into nothing, at your answer.
sae seems displeased, evident in the way he reacts to your words. he presses his lips together, and for a second, you see a flash of jealousy in his eyes. or maybe, it’s your delusions speaking. you’re not quite sure.
he gets up from where he was leaning on the counter, focused on you as he takes a tentative step towards you.
your feet stay locked in place as he closes the distance between the two of you with slow, calculating steps. “that’s my shirt you’re wearing, you know.” the jealousy in his tone is more apparent, putting emphasis on my and you’re, dragging the syllables on his tongue. "not rin's."
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© rindreamery, 2025
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alarajrogers · 2 days ago
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Well, I don't know if the book I'm reading now is any good because I just started it, but I have in the past week polished off Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao and Shadow Baron by Davinia Evans, both of which are sequels (and the middle parts of trilogies), and Hell for Hire by Rachel Aaron. They're all good, but the ones that are sequels are obviously more investment because you gotta read the first one first, but I believe I liked Shadow Baron the best. (Of the books that start these trilogies, Iron Widow and Notorious Sorceror, I liked Iron Widow better.)
Iron Widow/Heavenly Tyrant: In a dystopia based on ancient China but much more technologically advanced, humans are constantly fighting back against creatures called Hunduns, which are invading their spaces. They use the bodies of dead high-powered Hunduns to make giant mecha called Chrysalises, which are powered by a man and a woman... but most of the time, the woman dies, her life energy consumed by the battle. The main character, Zetian, is driven by righteous rage at the way the world treats women like her, and her older sister, who was killed by a Chrysalis pilot, so she sets out to become that man's concubine-pilot so she can kill him, and things sure do happen after that.
Notorious Sorceror/Shadow Baron: Siyon Velo just wants to become a great alchemist, but a poor boy from a fishing clan has few opportunities to get an education. Zagiri Savini is a teenage girl from the class of wealthy trader-nobles, the azatani, who just wants to put off having to grow up and take on the mantle of boring azatani womanhood as long as she can. Her sister Anahid Joddani, who's already taken on that mantle, is unhappily married to an alchemist who pays no attention to her at all, and desperately wants to find a way to give her life some meaning and sparkle. The whole thing is set in a city vaguely based on Byzantium, with alchemical magic based on the existence of four Planes, one of which is ours, and they don't map to our expectations (the plane where angels exist, as terrifying avatars of justice and retribution, is the plane of fire, for instance.)
Hell for Hire: Adrian Blackwood is the only male Blackwood witch, whose desperation to be a witch and not a sorceror put his whole clan in danger from the sorcerors... so he's set out to create his own grove of power and take the warlocks and sorcerors on directly. Bex is a demon leader of a mercenary band of free demons, who's been reduced to just trying to stay alive and keep her crew fed, but once upon a time she worked to free enslaved demons, which is most of them. Bex gets a contract as Adrian's security, and the two of them discover they have a lot in common, ideologically. Magical system is based on the idea that Gilgamesh overthrew the gods (who are the Sumerian gods) and enslaved the demons, and now all magic happens under his aegis... except for the Blackwood witches and the few free demons.
I recommend any of them, really. Libraries should have the Zhao and Evans books, and Hell for Hire is available on Kindle Unlimited, so if you have that it's free and if not it's cheap.
and if yes pls respond/put in the tags with what you’re reading and whether or not you like it i need new books for the new year <3
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wstviewvidal · 1 day ago
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valerie- w. maximoff
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summary: cupid is actually a four year old with a pink sequins backpack
pairing: rich!wanda x r
a/n: this one was fun to write lol
minors do not interact
“are you ready, bubba?” you yell out to your niece who’s sat at your couch watching another episode of her favorite cartoon.
you can hear a muffled reply in response as you walk into the living room where valerie is sat with a small zip lock bag full of cookies. you give her a pointed look, one she acknowledges in embarrassment as she puts the cookies away that you’d told her not to eat yet.
it’s been a week since the company dinner you’d accompanied wanda to. after the slight altercation with the woman who tried to insult you, wanda decided it was time to leave shortly after. she then made it a point to remind you that she was going to take both you and valerie out— which happened to be today.
wanda apologized profusely after the event, the guilt of putting you in an uncomfortable weighed heavily on her conscience. she sent you a bouquet of flowers the day after.
you got over the whole ordeal that same night, but seeing wanda act so caring and soft towards you was the reason you allowed it.
“when is auntie wanda coming?” valerie asks, going through her pink sequins backpack that she brought specifically for the aquarium.
you’d told her on numerous occasions that wanda was just your friend and nothing else, but you’re always met with a smug look on valerie’s face and a, “whatever you say.”
as soon as valerie says that, you both are met with wanda’s black car pulling into your driveway and her walking to your front door.
you move towards the front door to let wanda in, but you’re beat by the four year old in pigtails running to open it for wanda.
“my valerie!” wanda exclaims, immediately crouching down to hug the little girl, “how are you? i missed you!”
the little girl squeals and giggles as wanda presses a kiss to her cheek, “good! i’m excited for the aquarium!”
valerie had been gushing about going to the aquarium with her aunties for the past few days.
wanda nods and lets go of your niece, then standing up to her normal height as she smiles at you warmly, “hi.”
laughing at her bashfulness, you greet wanda with a twinkle in your eye, leaning on one hip, “hi, maximoff.”
valerie watches the two of you with a giggle, finding it amusing how the two of you got nervous just saying hi.
“we should head out,” wanda says when she’s brought back to earth my valerie’s snicker, “we can get lunch after the aquarium.”
the two of you head out in wanda’s car, valerie blabbering about how she’d missed wanda and updating her with what’s new in her class.
you look over at wanda, who meets your gaze with a subtle smirk. you can tell she’s amused by the whole situation— it all seeming very domestic to her.
arriving at the aquarium, you hold valerie’s hand as wanda falls into the routine of holding the door open for the both of you. you thank her as you pass by, brushing your hand along her waist as you past in front of her.
with your back to her, wanda silently groaned and shut her eyes as you did so, internally freaking out. she follows behind you trying to suppress a flushed smile with the pre-bought tickets in hand to scan.
“you pretty ladies ready?” wanda asks as she leads the both of you toward the doorway to get into the actual exhibits.
valerie nods enthusiastically as she rushes in front of you, shoving her pink sequins backpack into your hands as she runs off to look at the glass tunnel of fish.
wanda laughs as she watches the interaction play out, seeing valerie’s wide toothed grin as her brown curls bounce as she takes off past the two of you. you roll your eyes at wanda, “it’s not funny, wands.”
wanda playfully nods, reaching for the backpack in your hands, “you’re right, it’s not funny at all,” she puts her arms through valerie’s backpack and pulls you forward with her so neither of you lose sight of the girl.
you take in wanda’s casual outfit, not used to seeing her outside of her normal business attire. the light blue denim and white t-shirt making her look comfortably put together.
noticing your gaze on her, she raises her eyebrows, silently asking what’s going on.
shaking your head and turning away from her, “i just think you look pretty,” you say smugly as you walk a few steps ahead of her in hopes of not showing your flushed face at being caught gawking.
wanda watches you waltz off, her lips pursed in amusement, “oh, do you now?” she calls after you, her tone teasing.
she can tell that you have a thing for subtly catching her off guard and leaving her palms sweaty. she runs a hand through her hair, biting back a smile as she watches you walk ahead of her.
glancing back, “don’t get used to it, maximoff. im just being honest.”
catching up to you, wanda walks on your right side and points out all of the different fish. you somehow found yourself absentmindedly holding onto her arm as you two walked through the botanical garden that you followed valerie into.
wanda tensed subtly at the contact, but easing almost immediately as she watched your side profile with a gaze of adoration.
“i’m not that used to people being honest,” she says after a few minutes of silence, sitting on a nearby bench while valerie watched butterflies, “nor have i had anyone tell me i look good in denim.”
looking over at her with a head tilt, “then i think you’ve been around the wrong people.” your tone carries a bit of a playful edge, one that carries a bit more weight than intended.
wanda’s smile tells you she acknowledges the weight, it faltering just a bit but enough to recognize something softer about her.
in attempts to break the tension, wanda pulls you gently to a section, “look, these are my favorite,” as she points at hibiscus flowers.
you can tell she’s grasping for a change in topic and you decide to humor her. nodding along, you turn to her, “i’ll make a mental note of that.”
your small world is interrupted by valerie’s squeals echoed in the garden.
letting out a slight sigh, you nod towards valerie who’s now running full speed to the waterfall, “come on, before she tries to climb something she shouldn’t.”
the little girl’s giggles echo throughout the garden, and she tugs you both to an empty bench and pointing at the butterflies and flowers, “look, they’re so pretty!”
wanda nods, agreeing with valerie’s excitement, “they are, aren’t they?”
leaning back on your hands as you sit at the bench, you admire the two— how they easily fit into each other’s world. the way valerie easily has wanda wrapped around her finger and how wanda goes with whatever valerie says. you smile to yourself at how wanda carries valerie on her hip and points around the exhibit with a smile on her face.
after putting valerie down to do her own exploring, she joins you on the bench. your legs brushing against each other— neither one of you pulling away.
clearing your throat in hopes of not sounding nervous, “you’ve got competition now. val thinks the butterflies are prettier than you.”
with a mock offended face, “that’s so mean!”
shrugging playfully and lifting your chin, “what can i say, you’ll just have to work on impressing her even more.”
“i’ll let it slide for today, but,” smirking just the smallest bit, wanda moves in closer to you, “i hope you don’t think i’ve given up on try on to impress you.”
your heart stutters and your face immediately goes red— yore caught off guard by her bold words. wanda chuckles a bit before walking off to valerie and leaving you behind on the bench to collect yourself.
wanda walks with valerie around the aquarium, her small hand fit into wanda’s. the young girl points at different fish and listens to wanda spill facts about them.
the two laugh with each other, wanda adopting a caring attitude for the small girl. walking across a bridge, valerie tugs on wanda’s hand with a furrowed brow, “wanda..”
recognizing the slight waver in her voice, she immediately looks down to her and cups her cheek, “what’s wrong, bubba?”
valerie pouts and with a small voice, “jesse’s here,” she reaches up for wanda to hold her.
immediately pulling the girl onto her hip, “is that a friend from school?” wanda questions gently, not caught up to speed with who this person is.
shaking her head and playing with wanda’s necklace, “she’s my aunties old girlfriend.”
wanda’s steps halt, immediately looking in the direction valerie was looking. spotting a dark haired girl walking with someone. she watches her carefully, her bottom lip being tugged between her teeth in deep thought.
“i didn’t like her very much,” valerie speaks softly, as if she didn’t know if she should be speaking her opinion, “auntie used to cry a lot when they were together.”
upon hearing this, wanda’s heart clenched and she couldn’t help but let out a sigh. nodding, she held valerie a bit tighter. wanda’s expression was unreadable, but her eyes followed the ex with a sharp, deliberate focus.
wanda didn’t glare— she’s not the glaring type, but she studied the stranger showed nothing with a silent steel expression.
adjusting her hold on valerie, she walked back to the bench where you were sat— intending to get the both of you out of there before you had to come into contact with your ex.
however, there you were— conversing with your ex.
her breath hitched slightly, her steps faltering for just a second as she processed the picture in front of her. she took in your expression, the forced polite smile and the way your arms were crossed.
and then there was jesse— standing far too close for comfort, her head tilted in a way that seemed too smug.
whispering into valerie’s ear, “is that her, bubs?”
the small girl nodded into wanda’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around wanda’s neck, “yeah.”
she adjusted her posture and stood as tall as possible while she made her way closer. she walked with purpose, her steps not faltering— her presence unmistakable.
you turn around at the sound of steps coming closer, a genuine smile and breath of relief escaping your lips as you take in the sight of wanda with valerie in her arms.
“hi,” you say through a wide grin, pushing a piece of hair from valerie’s face.
“hey,” wanda greeted, her voice laced with warmth when she directed it to you, but her eyes flickered with something a bit cold when she looked over at jesse.
you noticed the subtle expression, but knew not to say anything of it.
even valerie noticed it, “auntie..” she whispered, her voice broke you out of your moment, her little arms reaching for you.
pulling her into you, you look over at wanda, “what’s going on?” a flicker of confusion in your expression.
her hands settling into her back pockets, a polite smile graced her face, “baby saw someone she recognized.”
wanda subtly glanced over at jesse, whose lips were still holding the smug smile— one wanda wished she could wipe off.
jesse raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing the slightest bit as she looked at wanda, “and you are?”
wanda tilted her head, her expression alarmingly calm, “i’m wanda.”
she offered no further elaboration, just a quiet gaze that somehow felt like a challenge.
glancing nervously between the two of them, you feel the weight of the air around you but are unsure of how to break it— and you know valerie feels it too.
“uh, jesse, this is wanda,” you hesitate, swallowing hard, “wanda, this is jesse.”
wanda’s smile didn’t falter, in fact, it somehow became even more alarmingly polite. there was a flicker of something in her eyes— something almost protective, territorial even, as she gave jesse a once over.
“nice to meet you,” wanda extended a hand out of her.
jesse meets her hand, her grip lasting a second too long, “likewise.”
turning back to you with a gentle voice, “the baby said she was hungry already. i think we should head out to eat.”
turning your full attention back to wanda after witnessing the tense moment, you nod and agree, “let’s go.”
you give a quick goodbye to jesse, not even intending to continue whatever conversation you were having before wanda swooped in.
“take care,” wanda nods to jesse as she guides you out with a hand on the small of your back.
you don’t even turn back to know that jesse is watching the three of you. you allowed wanda to take the lead, trusting her instinct to leave, even if you couldn’t explain why.
“are you okay?” she asks as you three are in the car, looking over at you as you’re stopped at a red light. you seem to be lost in thought, wanda’s eyebrows furrow the slightest bit.
you nod, looking over at her with a polite smile, “thank you.”
part of you wonders why wanda acted the way she did, but the other part of you knows that wanda is perceptive— and the fact that valerie probably told her something.
valerie gasps as wanda pulls into the parking lot lot, “pizza!”
the three of you are sat in a corner booth,
except this time valerie is sat with wanda rather than you— not that you mind. in fact, you prefer to admire the way wanda colors with valerie on her kid’s menu and the way she wipes valerie’s mouth when she smears marinara sauce on her face.
your head is tilted slightly, chin in your hand as you watch the two of them intently. you find yourself smiling without even realizing, laughing at the two of them in their own world.
your chest is warm and you can’t help but trace the lines on wanda’s face. the smile that’s painted on her lips, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, the way her voice is gentler when she speaks to valerie.
giggling softly at the sight, “you’re cute.”
valerie doesn’t look up from the drawing, but wanda does. she nods in agreement, assuming you’re talking about your niece.
with a playful roll of your eyes, “i’m talking about you, maximoff.”
wanda’s eyes widen slightly, a flush creeping up her neck as the two of you hold eye contact. she clears her throat, trying to keep some semblance of composure, but the way you are looking at her so intently has her falling off her seat.
her voice is soft, like she’s trying to keep it as steady as possible, “well, coming from you that means a lot,” she tries her best to seem confident, but you can see you got her nervous by the way she’s fiddling with the ring on her finger.
from the corner of your eye, you can see valerie smiling at the two of you.
you know your niece well enough to know she’s been plotting this whole time. for a four year old, she’s incredibly aware of the people around her— which in your case may be a good thing.
“auntie,” she begins.
you hold in a breath, afraid of what she may say, “yeah, bubba?”
“i like wanda a lot better than your old girlfriend,” she states matter-of-factly, “she’s nice to you and buys me food.”
does valerie know that you and wanda aren’t actually dating? or is she up to something?
that doesn’t matter though because now wanda’s laughing at your nieces words. she’s laughing and you can’t even be bothered to correct valerie because wanda is grinning from ear to ear and that’s the only thing that matters right now.
sighing, you decide it’s best to keep quiet, “don’t be mean, val.”
the little girl just shrugs and turns to wanda with a hushed voice, “you’re a lot nicer to my auntie. you better stay around.”
wanda just nods and holds out her pinky to valerie, “i pinky promise ill do whatever it takes.”
a giggle escapes valerie’s voice as she laces her tiny pinky around wanda’s, the two of them smiling at one another’s promise.
wanda finally brings you two back home, the sun setting. wanda stares out the windshield as she realizes the day spent with you is now over, her heart feeling heavy.
“i loved being with you and val today,” she says as she looks over at you, her hand tracing the gearshift out of nervous habit.
you nod, placing your hand on top of hers without a second thought, “thank you for thinking of us.”
wanda looks at your hand on top of hers, wondering if she should turn it around and interlace your fingers. the gears turn in her head, wondering if that’s too much too soon.
“i’ll see you soon?” you ask, brushing your fingers across the back of her hand in a soothing manner. you don’t mean for it to come off flirty, but you can see how it causes wanda to force back a smile.
she nods, finally looking you in your eyes after watching you trace lines on her hand, “of course.”
valerie makes her way out of the car on her own, grabbing one of her outdoor toys she kept stashed in your rose bush.
you scoff, not even knowing she’d hidden it there, “can you believe that girl? half the time i’m not even aware she’s plotting something.”
but wanda wasn’t listening, she was more focused on the way the sunset was making your eye color pop out, how your smile seemed even more beautiful now that she had her full attention on you.
she nods absentmindedly, her body facing toward you as you speak.
“i want to see you again,” she says, her voice just barely above a whisper, “please?”
the subtle pleading tone in her voice causes you to face her. you’re met with a smiling wanda who looks nothing but awestruck as she watches you.
you giggle softly at how soft she looks right now, “you will.”
a small pout adorns her lips at how you don’t give a solid answer as to when she’ll see you again, but she nods knowing that your schedules don’t always align.
as valerie plays in the background, the moment between you and wanda is quiet but charged. you two take time gazing at each other, smiles lingering.
“good,” her voice is low.
you can tell she wants to say more, but instead she chooses to continue gazing at you— studying the details of your face.
the weight of her stare is settling into your chest, and you know you need to get out of the car soon.
“let me know when you get home,” you say, placing a hand on wanda’s forearm, giving a gentle squeeze.
as wanda’s car pulls off, you stand there for a moment longer, watching until the taillights of her car disappear.
valerie calls from the yard, her voice light and playful, “you’re smiling again.”
you glance over at her, rolling your eyes a bit, but she’s not wrong.
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ceesimz · 1 day ago
Text
Lavender
A date that unfortunately doesn't go as planned. (autistic!reader - angst -> fluff)
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Reverie series here as always! A verrrry real experience depicted in this one, with some amazing help from @pickledwoso that i am very grateful for, thank youuu <3
“Engel, are you ready to leave?” Alexia sang as she headed out of the bedroom towards where you were at the door rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, waiting for her.
“Yes, you fool, I've been ready for the past half hour.” You rolled your eyes at her teasingly, laughing when she lightly pawed at your side where she knew you were ticklish. “Come on! You're taking all day.”
“Ay, it is our day-off, I can take my time for once. No rushing, just calm, and me and you.” She gave an alluring smile, sliding her hand down your arm until she intertwined your fingers, then leaned forwards to kiss your forehead. “Are you excited?”
“Very. I love when we do this.” You told her with a squeeze of her hand. The girl grinned, her eyes brimming with excitement and complete happiness seeping from her pores, like the prospect of visiting a farmer's market with her girlfriend was as exciting as a third Ballon d’Or.
“Me too.” She gently knocked your chin up and pecked your lips before brushing back a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, are we ready, mi vida?”
“For the love of god, yes!”
Any time the club issued some days-off, one of the things highest on the list for yourself and Alexia was visiting the local farmer’s market. You’d buy the best of the best fresh organic products and cook together a dish of food that, combined with the quality time you'd spend with each other, would make for a night-in together that was so much better than going out somewhere. 
These days had become somewhat of a tradition, and with it being the penultimate day of the short summer break after the tournament Alexia had gone to, it was absolute perfection. The last day had no plans apart from relaxing and spending time together before the season started again. You couldn't think of a better way to spend the last bit of time off than a date to a familiar, easy place with Alexia that was sure to give way for a fun afternoon and evening.
With it being the height of summer, Barcelona was especially warm, which was perhaps the first warning sign of the day.
“Ale, you really need to get your car in the garage, your AC sucks.” You groaned, the vents on full blast yet hardly doing a thing to cool you down against the 35 degree air outside. Your window was open and your head rested against the door dramatically, Alexia couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight even if she did feel a little bad about it.
“It’s got a service next week, they will fix it then. Sorry.” She winced, hardly breaking a sweat in the weather she was more than acclimated to whilst you seemed to be struggling before the pair of you had even left the car.
You shrugged her off because it's not exactly her fault her car's AC has been faulty since the spring, and focused all your attention on the life-saving breeze hitting your face as Alexia maneuvered through some tame midday traffic. Hot weather wasn't one of your favourite things in the world, as a matter of fact much more comfortable in minus degree weather with tiny icicles on your eyelashes, but a year into living under the blaze of the Barna sun you had no choice but to put up with it.
Though, your patience with the heat wore off quick. And in its wake, a simmering feeling of restlessness, which should have been yet another warning sign. But you were too deep in your determination for this to be a good day for anything to write you off.
The market was only a short drive away, the two of you having opted out of walking because, well, duh, the weather, and just as the sweat that found its place on your nose no more than five minutes after stepping out of your ice cold shower finally began to evaporate, it came crawling right back the second you got out of the car. Alexia was starting to feel uneasy about the day's plans, and, really, so were you, but you were set on pushing through the constrictive feeling that had settled in your bones when the first bit of heat came your way after leaving your flat. There wouldn't be much time in the coming weeks for a day like this with your girlfriend, you weren't about to wreck it for the both of you.
From where the car was parked to the entrance of the market, you walked in silence, hand in hand across slightly worn stone tiles until the rusted old gates of the park stood before you. Over the threshold of the entrance, paved tiles turning to cobble, you knew the chaos the market had in store for you. You didn’t know if you could handle it. The writing on the wall was in the prickly sensation in your skin that was all too familiar, as was the way every nerve in your body screamed in discomfort, almost like your soul was desperately trying to find a way out of your body.
You ignored it, and headed towards the stalls before Alexia could ask how you were.
This place was familiar; you knew the ins and outs of each stall, you knew where to go, you knew how long it took to get around. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? 
You loved this place, of course it’d be fine. It beamed with energy, with good vibes, with good people. With its colourful displays of the finest fruit and vegetables, it was more than just a market; it was the heartbeat of the surrounding neigbourhoods.
All kinds of scents and aromas swirled around each corner, weaving themselves into the fabrics of people’s clothes and lingering long after they’d left. They were intoxicatingly good, and it was evident in the looks of wonder on everybody’s face, old or young, experienced shopper or recent newcomer. Vendors positioned at every stall or tattered wagon called out their offerings in a chaotic yet melodic mix of Spanish and Catalan, grabbing the nearest fruit or veg to wave around like an auctioneer with a hammer, the only use for it being to wave off the flies dancing tauntingly around their goods. 
Locals haggled over prices with the farmers they’d come to know just as well as their own family; their loud and boisterous back-and-forth banter may have sounded like arguing to unknowing tourists, but to everyone else it was understood as just some good-humoured ribbing that they all delighted in. It was more of a shuffle than a walk throughout the place thanks to the tourists that seemed to stop in the middle of the aisles every second, clearly oblivious to the well-practiced dance of the locals. Elderly ladies pulled their clueless esposos around with one arm whilst they carried their wicker basket in the other, the woven willow groaning under the weight of the countless ingredients to be used in that night’s meal.
For a moment, as you paused off to the side whilst Alexia caught up with one of the stall owners, a fisherman with his catches of the week proudly on display, which you knew your girlfriend would end the conversation by buying enough fish meat to feed the five thousand, you took a moment to breathe. Everybody seemed relieved of their life’s burdens here, gathered closely in one space that was steeped in the essence of the world’s simplest pleasures; flavour, tradition, and community. Only, the smile that was usually imprinted on your face whenever you came was no more than a distant memory. 
Despite the fairly shadowed area, considering the park was fenced in by sporadic trees that skimmed the roofs of buildings that showed off the city’s beautiful architecture, it was still insufferably hot. It radiated off of the ground, rebounded off the buildings around, and the flurry of structures meant there was no wind breaking through to give a cool Mediterranean breeze like you had before. 
Alexia seemed none the wiser, enraptured by the surroundings like it was her first time there, her head on a swivel and marveling at the mouth-wateringly exceptional variety of things to choose from. You hadn’t really been taking it in, your eyes stuck to the back of her head as you followed her through, waiting on shaking legs whenever she laughed and joked with each worker she bought from. 
This labyrinth of every cook’s dream was well and truly alive, but you weren’t. You couldn’t absorb the intense feeling of belonging and sonder you got whenever you came here. It was too much. The thought ate away at you, as with every fly that landed on your skin or every person that brushed against you, you became more and more on edge. 
All the different smells, the different sounds, the crowd of people, they didn’t spark those usual feelings of contentment and peace that transpired for you normally. Instead, they felt oppressive, like they were attacking your senses. 
The concoction of aromas forced themselves inside your nose and overloaded you completely, the squeamish smell of fish and the fiery linger of hundreds of kinds of herbs and spices bringing on a pounding headache. Every squeak of a wicker basket as the willow was put under more pressure could have been a gunshot for all you knew, the way it echoed around the tunnels of your ears. Anytime someone briefly put a hand on you as they moved past had you flinching, hating the unexpected contact as it was the last thing you needed in such a situation.
You didn’t find any comfort whatsoever in how Alexia’s hand never left yours for more than a minute, when normally it was something that grounded you. Her usually funny comments and little facts and point-outs of detail about her ‘second home’ (the name she had given it as she’d been coming here since she was young) didn’t make you feel any brighter, in fact you were pretty sure you missed most of them.
And as every minute passed, it appeared to get busier and busier, until it started to feel like you were in some kind of mosh pit, people bouncing off of you with every turn only for the next one to come along no more than a second later. You couldn’t hear a word Alexia was speaking, the once calming mix of languages turned into a booming echo of voices that were so close they seemed to be knocking on the bone of your skull, yet too distant for you to make out what anyone was saying, making it all so. much. worse.
Every voice, every footstep, every hearty laughter and every scrape of wood along the floor grated against your ears, all noises around amplified to immeasurable heights. The space was far too loud and far too crowded – each sensation you felt blurred into the next until it became impossible to separate from one another. But you did feel how each individual muscle tensed, from your legs to your shoulders, as Alexia continued to pull you through the market. 
You were hyperaware of everything around you and it soon became unbearable. But Alexia was happy, she chatted away like nothing was happening, comfortable and content as her canvas bag brimmed with stuff you didn’t even realise she had bought. You soldiered on, or at least tried to.
Until, your breathing began to quicken, your lungs unable to take in any of the stuffy air you walked through, your chest tightening in a way that only caused you to panic impossibly more. Each piece of fabric from your clothes grazed against your skin like a hundred scratches in a single second, your shirt and shorts beginning to feel like they were getting tighter with each step you took. And when the claustrophobia, the feeling like there was no escape at all, began to really set in, the day was over.
Your resolve had completely eroded. You tried to focus on grounding yourself — reminding yourself this was a safe space, but that was an empty claim to make to your shredded composure. You tried convincing your mind that Alexia’s hand in yours was comforting, when it only felt constrictive, her hand wholly enveloping yours like a snake, leaving no room to breathe. You clenched and unclenched your fist in time with your breaths, but you couldn't even inhale for a second before your mind went into overdrive. All the tools you relied on before were inadequate in that moment. The rational part of your brain slipped away, instead replaced by an instinctive need to escape. 
Surges of anger, panic, anxiety, fear, they all rose uncontrollably at once. Your jaw clenched, your free hand curled into a tight fist, and your vision turned hazy as your world dissolved into one indistinct blur.
The snapping point came abruptly. Perhaps it was a shrill laugh nearby, the clatter of a crate being dropped, or an impatient shove from someone trying to pass by. It was the smallest thing, but it tipped the scale far out of anybody’s control. You were alone in that moment. Trapped completely in your mind.
You missed how Alexia called your name over and over, how her hand nudged yours to desperately try to grasp your attention. It was only when her hands grabbed both your forearms that you were brought back down, but only for half a millisecond, before it all went south.
“What?!” You snapped at her, jumping back out of her touch. 
As a result, there were about thirty pairs of eyes on you. Everybody around paused, your sharp shout cutting through the buzz of the market, and it went so quiet that every flutter of a fly’s wing and every creek of wood could be heard. 
You took another step back when Alexia came towards you, a worrisome look on her face with her hands out in front of her like she was trying to not spook an untrusting animal in front of her. She rushed out some words of reassurance that fell into the background with all the other noises around that had picked up again, the market-goers losing interest in a seemingly harmless situation. They didn’t register within you, nor did her intentions. Your mind was far too good at playing tricks on you, convincing you of things that were far from the truth but in the moment felt like gospel.
There was no way out of where you were, both in the physical and the mental sense, and that was the main factor in the eruption that had just happened. With so many emotions coursing through you, there was an intense itch to find a release from them all. So before you realised, your arms crossed over your chest, hands on your upper arms just above your elbow, and you began to roughly palm, rub, grab at the skin there, needing a distraction from the volume of your mind and the world, whilst also desperately trying to get the movement to act as a release of the crushing press of the feelings inside of you. 
If you were alone at that time, god only knows what would have happened. Fortunately you weren’t.
The next time Alexia touched you was the featherlight weight of her hand on your lower back, the minor contact enough to lead you through the winding paths of the market. Your legs ran on autopilot, but you stumbled with every few steps, eyes too blurry to see the bumps and dips in the cobbles underneath your feet. There were probably tears down your face, though you’d reached such a broken point that your body was just… numb. You weren’t in control of anything anymore, hadn’t been for a while, but this was a new extremity. You weren’t even present in your own mind. Just an innocent, unknowing passenger in the car crash that had come out of nowhere.
Somehow, with her own hands trembling from concern, Alexia managed to lead you out of the chaos of the market to those same rusted, paint-chipped gates from earlier— the entrance of the park area. She was lost on what to do or say, but rationally she knew the only thing that would work for you right now was getting you home. 
“I will drive us back to your flat, back home, okay?” 
You gave her no indication that you heard her, which she was expecting, though you had heard the one word you were in dire need of and it was the first thing so far that managed to break through into your overwhelmed mind. Your hands were still moving roughly against the skin of your arms, sure to leave marks afterwards, but Alexia knew if she attempted to stop you, it’d only make matters worse. She had to get you home. Seeing you like this was breaking her.
It took a concerningly small amount of effort to guide you to the car; you were pliant and mindless, the exhaustion having fully taken over the minute you left the crowded space. She opened the door for you, helped you into the seat, and put the belt on. You leaned your head back against the seat rest and stared straight ahead. Whether it’d help or not, Alexia wasn’t sure. But she had to do one thing, more for the sake of her sanity than yours. With a quiet call of your name, she gently put a hand under your chin and turned you so you faced her.
“I’ll take you home and look after you. You will be okay.” She whispered, tentatively brushing away some of the tears still on your cheeks with her thumb. Her words were a sentiment for her as much as they were for you. “You’ll be okay soon.”
Next thing you knew, you were in your bed, lay on your side with your weighted blanket over you and Alexia nowhere to be seen.
It was definitely the calm after the storm. The room was mostly dark apart from the light that bled through the curtains which were closed, you could hear the quiet whir of the AC as well as the dull hum of traffic on the street below, but that was about it. It was a stark contrast to how things were before.
You don’t exactly remember getting home after what happened after the market, but what you did know was that though Alexia wasn’t in the room, she had been at some point, because you felt her love in the way she made sure everything was properly set up for you. The AC hadn’t been on before you left earlier and it only could have come back on by someone turning it on. The curtains were open that morning, whereas now they were drawn. And last time you checked, your blanket was still in the dryer, waiting to be taken out when you got back. 
Everything you felt earlier still echoed faintly inside your head and chest, but the weighted blanket over you helped to anchor you back to your life again, rather than the chaos you were drowning in not so long ago. Your mind was convoluted, thoughts jumbled, and you flitted from one shattered fragment of insecurity to the other. You were simply too exhausted to hold onto any of them, emotionally and mentally drained. Though, you still tried to identify what you were feeling— was it anger? Shame? Embarrassment? You couldn’t put a finger on it. 
Your hands still shook, your chest still shuddered with every breath. Your clothes still felt scratchy and overbearing, just less so now that you lay in the aftermath of it all. Instead of focusing on that, you drifted your attention to the feeling of the blanket on you; you focused on its texture, its softness, the heaviness of it and how it draped over you and helped to extinguish the flame that was overstimulation and overwhelm. These small but familiar details offered a tiny foothold in the mirror maze of your mind that you were still trying to escape from, only for the ruined reflection of you at the market to be shown back to you.
The longer you spent in that position, a deep, bone-level weariness quietly consumed you, like every aspect of you right down to your soul had been drained. But even still, your mind continued its hyperactive ways, replaying the day’s events over and over like a faulty film reel. The memory of it isn’t the slightest bit cohesive, it was just flashes of moments— the suffocating press of people from every direction, clamour of voices, the overloading mixture of scents. You alternated between frustration and exasperation, wanting to desperately forget what happened whilst not being able to move on from the embarrassment of it. 
However, the strain of it slowly began to dissipate with each minute you spent back at home in bed, a safe space where there were no expectations, where time was temporarily unimportant, and where there were no watchful eyes or scathing glares at the disruption you’d caused. And eventually, you felt like you had gained back control of your mind again. It was quieter then; the world felt muted, less aggressive, though you could feel that you were still wary of your surroundings because of how everything ambushed you earlier.
You weren’t fully recovered, you still felt heavy and your body ached due to the tension in your muscles and joints when it all came falling down, and you weren’t sure how much time had passed but the sun sat a little lower on the horizon when you finally felt able to get out of bed. The desire for time alone had gone, you needed something else then, and at this point of the relationship you felt comfortable enough to seek exactly what you needed without giving it a second thought. 
The door to your room creaked like it always did when you opened it, your apartment mostly silent save for the occasional huff from the kitchen as the person you were looking for busied herself with any chore she could think of as she waited patiently for you. 
You didn’t quite know what to say, but one of the best things about your relationship was that often in times like this, words weren’t a necessity. So you bypassed her and headed straight for the sofa, sitting in the corner and curling your feet underneath you, almost like you were making yourself as small as possible. And, just as you expected, not a minute went by before the blonde headed over, trying to disguise the worry she felt by giving a tight-lipped smile that was more on the amusing side than the reassuring one.
When she sat down, however, she left a gap between you both and perched only on the edge, which wasn’t what you wanted. One shared glance later and Alexia was smiling properly this time, shuffling to sit back against the cushions and beckoning you over with a small wave of her hand. With a sheepish but slightly triumphant look on your face, you moved along the couch and chose to sit sideways on her lap, one of her arms immediately wrapping around your waist as the hand of the other landed just above your knee. She pulled you close to her, and you settled into her with a relieved sigh, indescribably glad to have the final piece of the puzzle to self-regulation in your possession.
For some time, the pair of you didn’t speak, only relishing in the comfort you both needed after the day that had been had. At some point, Alexia noticed the redness to your skin from earlier and subconsciously brought a hand up to one of your arms, her thumb gently tracing over them with a frown on her face. She felt compelled to speak then.
“Please, engel, don’t put yourself through uncomfortable situations just to make me happy. If you asked me to, I would have taken you home earlier in a heartbeat.” The midfielder said carefully, panicking a little when she heard you sigh before calming when you buried your face in her neck.
“I didn’t really know it was going to be uncomfortable until it was already happening.” You told her in a mumbled, downbeat tone that made her hug you tighter against her. She contemplated her next words, wondering whether it was wise to voice them or not, before deciding that you’d hate it if you found out she’d kept her feelings from you.
“I’ve never seen you like that before.” Her fear and sadness was evident when she spoke, matching the frown still on her face and the furrow to her brow. You pressed your lips to the skin of her jaw in a somewhat apologetic gesture, which made her feel a little bad. “We’re both okay though, mi amor. I love you and we’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, this isn’t your fault. I don’t want you to feel guilty. It’s over now, it’s in the past, and we’re here together now.”
It might have been a minor reminder, but it relieved a lot of the remaining anxieties and insecurities you had. Even though she made sure you knew she never judged you for anything, you were only human, and sometimes the devil on your shoulder got the best of you. So, to hear her say she knew it wasn’t your fault and that she wasn’t angry, it was… very needed.
The mix of physical touch and words of affirmation never failed to work wonders for you. The period of time after an event like earlier was a delicate time to say the least, where your mind and your self-esteem was easily swayed by whatever reaction waited for you afterwards. Having Alexia be so welcoming, non-judgemental, caring and adoring even after what she’d witnessed made a world of a difference.
“Better day tomorrow?” You said shyly after moving back to look at her. She shook her head at first, which greatly confused you, before she smiled brightly, softly, reassuringly, and leaned forwards to kiss your temple.
“Better evening tonight after a bad day. And then a very good day tomorrow.” Her words were a little skewed, probably lost in translation, but you understand what she was getting at and it warmed your heart all the same.
It was important to you then, that you voiced your thoughts from just a moment ago. She had to know how important she was to you.
“Thank you, Ale. For everything.” You started, laughing quietly at the puzzled expression on her face. “You always know what to do, what to say. You always make me feel better after a day like this and I don’t know how you do it but… you changed my life.”
Her reaction was the sweetest. Her cheeks blushed red and she turned away for a moment with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head.
“I don’t know about that, cariño.” She murmured, but you weren’t having it. You put a hand on her cheek and turned her face back to you, ensuring she met your gaze before you spoke again.
“You did. I really mean it. I think about it a lot, how you’ve changed me, how I see myself because of you and how you treat me.” You paused for a moment, smiling up at her as her eyes silently urged you to continue. “I… value myself more because of how you value me. I don’t tell you enough how grateful I am for you and what you really mean to me. You’re the greatest person I have ever met.”
The normally sure and confident captain was rendered speechless in that moment, completely caught off guard and lost for words. How she could ever match the gravity and beauty of your words, she didn’t know. But they meant so much more to her than she knew she could ever express.
Ale ducked her head down for a moment as she really took in your words, before she lifted it back up again a moment later, with tears in her eyes. 
If only you knew how much you meant to her too.
“You’re my favourite person in the world, you know that?” She said with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, almost accusing you of foolishly being uncertain about the fact that she stated so definitively. You knew she only did that to deflect the softness of her words a little. So, you just smiled, and tucked your head back into her neck and closed your eyes, completely at peace. “My favourite person in the whole world. You changed my life too.”
i really really tried my best to encapsulate the autistic experience of being overstimulated and overwhelmed in such a place here but i have no idea how well it comes across to a large audience. but for me and probably others, this is the reality, no matter how much you can plan and prepare and be excited for something, it can spiral out of your control so quickly and it's definitely a downer when it happens. hope this is somewhat understandable, im gonna go hibernate out of fear now, thank you v much for reading :)
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helianthus-tarot · 2 days ago
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FUTURE SPOUSE: Challenges to overcome or events to experience before meeting them
As written in the title. I posted the extended version on my Patreon which includes at what stage of life will you meet 👀❤️ There are also other 90+ readings on Patreon so definitely check it out, pick a card reading is posted every week plus extra mini pac every month! 🎉
Disclaimer: Here | Instagram: Here
Instructions: Focus on the topic and ask yourself the question. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to or that you can’t stop looking at. Trust your intuition. May the message resonate. Let me know which pile you choose! Feedback is appreciated!
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PILE 1 
Challenges to overcome or events to experience in your life before meeting them: 2 of Swords, Wheel of Fortune, 7 of Pentacles, Knight of Swords, 8 of Cups. 
I think it’s got something to do with a change in your life path; things in your life moving in a direction that is unexpected, or that is different from what you initially visualised your life to be. There may be some external events that will be contributing to this development, that will be nudging you in this direction, or that will make you aware of this path. For some of you, it will involve a change in fortune; meaning that, if you take this new path that is being presented to you, you may feel like there’s a possibility that you can change your fortune. For others of you, this path will come to the surface the further you work in the direction that you think you are going. It’s like, let’s say you are currently working on X, but the more you work on X, the more Life directs you to Y path, or the more Y path becomes visible to you. X and Y may be related, they may be logical outcomes of each other. Like, pursuing a film major and wanting to work at X company, but then instead of going to X, you are presented a choice to go to Y organisation instead which will take you to a place you didn’t consider before. It’s that kind of event. 
Whatever it will be, you will have to make a decision, and this decision may cause some internal conflicts; you won’t know what you should choose. For many of you, this decision may involve you leaving something behind; this could be a place, an old idea of how you think your life should develop, it could be a project or skill you’ve been working on, or it could also be a relationship, if you’re in a relationship. For the latter, it feels like the typical event in films where one character has to break things off with their partner because they are asked to move, or they want to take on a project somewhere else and they can’t make the relationship work. This change of events may also highlight what isn’t working out in this relationship, path or place.  
You may also be asked to assertively solve your problems; the solutions may be presented to you by Life itself, and you may come to a standstill where you have to make that decision. In order to progress, in order to reap your hard work, you may need to be more assertive or direct in pursuing certain things, and this will lead to a change in fortune. So yeah, there will be introspection, inner conflicts, not knowing which decision to make—your heart and your mind will be pulled in different directions, or you’ll feel like there are many things that make it difficult for you to make a decision. But I think, at the same time, the answer will be clear to you. There may be a change of perspective, or Life may show you something which will make it clearer to you, and you may choose to move on from whatever it is in the past, in search for something better for you, in the direction of what you believe will help you progress and change your fortune. 
Advice for you is to stay centred in yourself, maintain that emotional balance and maturity, and be patient with yourself. I think the answer will be obvious, but the process of coming into the answer may require you to be confident in your ability to make decisions, it may require you to sit in your feelings and hear yourself out, it may require you to have a mature outlook instead of just following purely feelings or purely logic. For some of you, you may also need to believe that if you’re destined for a relationship, it’s not going to miss you. If you’re destined to be with someone, your relationship isn’t going to fail. There may need to be some reliance in the Universe with regard to your relationships, and about your emotional fulfilment. To remain strong in yourself, and trust that whatever wish or hope you send out to the Universe will not miss you even if you suddenly change your direction. I do feel like there’s a strong message that you will take this new path or that you will follow the direction that Life shows you; whether or not you’ll leave behind your current relationship (for those of you who are in a relationship). 
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! At what stage of life will you meet them? What will be going on in your life at that time? Will it happen when you are living your dreams, or when you get a new job, etc? Find out here! 😘❤️
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PILE 2 
Challenges to overcome or events to experience in your life before meeting them: The Lovers, 9 of Cups, 6 of Cups, The World, Wheel of Fortune. 
I think you will be pursuing your passion here, or dream, especially something that is related to your past or childhood passion. For some of you, you will do this just for fun; it’s just one of the things that you’ll do because it brings you enjoyment, and it makes you get closer to yourself. It feels like a desire to express the highest form of yourself, or to be in that joyful and dreamer energy; this dream, passion, path will feel achievable to you. For others of you, you may have a bigger goal; you will have imagined that pursuing your passion or doing this thing will eventually lead you to something bigger, like you could move to a bigger stage, you could go global or international—there's something with the external world, I’m talking about something big, something that will feel like destiny to you. You may have imagined this for yourself, and because of this, you’ll pursue whatever path this is.  
Regardless of what your goal will be, you will reach it and you will live that experience; it will feel expansive, it will feel lucky, it will feel like you’ve achieved your dream or wish, it will feel like this is one of your highest accomplishments—especially one that represents who you are, your talents, your soul. It will make you feel like you are on the track of self-actualisation, or you have done something that has a spiritual meaning to you. Something will reach an end (this is not negative) and reward will come, and you will enjoy it. So you will have done something here related to what I’ve just mentioned—possibly passion, wish, etc—and you will feel on top of the world, you will feel achieved and things in your life will feel like it’s moving in an interesting direction, a bit unpredictable but it will feel expansive. For some of you, you’ll meet your person either during that stage (after the end / achievement has just come to be) or after this stage entirely; but for others of you, the message will be in the next section. 
This may involve you meeting someone from your past, especially past lovers or partners. I’m not sure if you will get into a relationship with them again (some of you might, and they might be your future spouse). But either way, you will feel positive about this past encounter—or this past encounter will lead to you getting in touch with yourself and pursuing what brings you the highest enjoyment, which will eventually lead you to your person. Of course, like I mentioned before, for some of you, this is you reconnecting with your childhood memory, passion or dream, and you will do something about it that will lead to a sense of achievement and accumulation of experience, and it will feel lucky. This may also involve getting in touch with many people—there could be many emotional interactions or connections here—especially with the general public. For others of you, this may be talking about people online, people abroad, people from different countries. I think your life at this point may also make so much sense; there are a lot of circles in the cards, so it feels like something that started in the past and will reach the point where it connects back to where it begins—so it becomes whole. You will feel whole too. This will generally be a positive experience. 
Advice for you; keep working on yourself, your path, your skills or whatever it is that you’ve got your eye on. Constant learning, constant improvement (but with curiosity and light-heartedness of a child, instead of stress and jadedness of an adult) and constant movement towards what you feel called to—these will eventually lead you to your person. Your progress and movement do not have to be fast; they just have to be consistent. You are advised to hold on to that optimism, the belief that can you do amazing things. You are also advised to connect with the society, community, the world around you—what I meant by connect is not necessarily socialising; it’s more about your emotional connection with the world outside yourself. Connect that to the work that you are doing. For some of you, this may feel a bit exhausting sometimes, so take your breaks, but always come back to that hopefulness and that diligence, and put in the effort to reach the stars. 
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! At what stage of life will you meet them? What will be going on in your life at that time? Will it happen when you are living your dreams, or when you get a new job, etc? Find out here! 😘❤️
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PILE 3 
Challenges to overcome or events to experience in your life before meeting them: 7 of Pentacles Rx, Justice Rx, 3 of Swords Rx, 5 of Swords, The Fool. 
Yeah, this will be a challenge. For some of you, this challenge has been brewing under the surface, so it will come out and you will realise it or you will be made to realise it—you can’t pretend it’s not there anymore, or you can’t try to hold on to it anymore, you can’t try to prolong the heartache anymore. For others of you, certain events will be obvious but some events may be quite hidden, so at first you may not understand what’s truly going on (what forces are at play), or what you are supposed to do. And when you do realise it, you may try to suppress or hold off your emotional reaction to it, not sure why. It could be that you will try to hold on to something here, something you’ve been putting effort into or investing yourself in, something that you are emotionally attached to—anything like that. 
I feel like for many of you, this challenge will involve people. There may be misunderstandings, arguments, or disagreements, or people misjudging you / your intention and words. For a few of you, it may feel like bullying; I’m not sure if it is, but it may feel that way. It’s like within a friend group, something happens, and people take sides and you feel like you are standing alone. Something like that. For some of you, it may feel like you’re trying to manage multiple perspectives, or juggle different sides / opinions to the point that it’s hurting you. For others of you, it will be a battle of some kind, it could be related to law—I'm not seeing anything super big or significant though so this may be something like contract issue or small dispute. There will be a feeling of being treated unfairly though, like there will be unfairness somewhere, some kind of injustice and imbalance. You may also feel like you can’t freely express your hurt about the situation; because for some of you, the unfairness or injustice may be hidden. Like you will be able to feel it but it may not be addressed out in the open. Some of you will hurt some people’s feelings or you will get your feelings hurt when you defend yourself or argue your case. 
Whatever the event may be, it may put a halt to or make you have to abandon the previous thing that you’ve been working on. You have been building something here; this could be anything like a path, project, job, programme, skill, investment—something that you put effort into because it’s getting you somewhere, because you want to progress. But because of the conflict, you may not be able to continue, or your effort may feel like a waste. It’s probably not really a waste though. Whatever it will be, you will start anew; you may take a new path, and it will feel more liberating and exciting than whatever these restrained energies are. For others of you, it’s precisely because you will be taking a new path that this conflict happens, almost like your new path disturbs or goes against some people; in this case, I think you will still proceed with that new path, but the progress may experience some kind of delay, until you overcome this conflict, so this will be like, a blockage. You will end up learning from this experience.  
Advice for you; don’t be too accommodating or kind. King of Cups in reverse fell on top of Justice in reverse, and when I took it, I kinda accidentally dragged the Justice. So I think both cards are related in some way. I think one of the contributing factors to that imbalance may be your tendency to understand the other parties, to accommodate them, to want things to work—but this can only work well for you if they do the same thing. But if they don’t, it can become unbalanced, and you may be treated unfairly as a result. Don’t think too kindly of people; I mean, don’t start being suspicious of everyone, but if people have shown negative traits to you, don’t explain and give positive meanings to those traits to yourself. If you have a tendency to give yourself to others too much, maybe restrain that a bit more. You’ve got to support yourself first before you do it for other people.  
Some of you are a bit too nurturing that people take advantage of that. You may also have a strong sense of responsibility, so you give yourself too much sometimes. Remain centred in who you are, your beliefs and your values—regardless who will be questioning you or starting issues with you here. Be mature, don’t add to the fire, but have confidence that you know what you are doing and you are doing the best for yourself here. Don’t settle for less—for example, if you get involved in some kind of dispute, make sure you get your fair share / compensation because you deserve it. So there needs to be that feeling of ‘I deserve to ask for this, or to be treated this way, or to hold this position without being disturbed’, because it’s a basic thing to ask for.   
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! At what stage of life will you meet them? What will be going on in your life at that time? Will it happen when you are living your dreams, or when you get a new job, etc? Find out here! 😘❤️
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PILE 4 
Challenges to overcome in your life before meeting them: 4 of Pentacles, 6 of Wands, 10 of Swords, The World, Page of Cups (Ace of Pentacles). 
I feel like there will be several, and these things may be different from one another. You’ve got multiple energies here, and I asked how these things connected to one another, you got Ace of Pentacles. So it’s either one event leading to another event and to another event—or multiple things happening at the same time and they’ll just end up leading you somewhere new. It is also possible for some of you, that these events, although they may look different, all of them will be related to material opportunities. For example, in order to pursue those opportunities, you may experience these events. Or experiencing these events will eventually open up material and financial opportunities for you. 
Now what are the events. There will be something with regard to your home life, most likely your house, or your physical location. I feel like it’s been or it will feel quite difficult to live there, or something won’t be that satisfying, or you will feel like you’re storming through difficulties or inconveniences, or you’ve got to hold on to this place for whatever reason (like a lease) before you can move on to the next one. So it will feel that way. It won’t be that unpleasant, I mean, you will still have your stability but you may feel like you need to hold on or deal with some things.  
Now, another thing that you may experience is a victory; you will feel on top of the world. Some of you will feel achieved; some of you will feel celebrated, as in, people paying attention to you, people recognising you, people admiring or respecting you—this could be people abroad, or more than just one or two people. You may have been working on something, and that thing may reach an end and you will get the reward. This victory may come with some downsides for some of you. Since it will involve people, sometimes it may feel like a burden, or it may make you stressed out for some reason; some people will feel too passionately or emotional about what you are doing and they may start causing some scenes. This could be the reason for 10 of Swords.  
For others of you though, 10 of Swords is a separate matter. You will experience a mental and emotional hardship. It will be either something that has started long before that ending happens, or it will feel like you have got to move on—because things are ending and stressing you out and you can’t do anything about it anymore. It’s related to a heartache; I got 3 of Swords when I asked for a clarification. It may be related to a breakup, or a relationship ending. The odd thing is, I’m not getting a strong negative energy from 10 of Swords. Some of you may experience the heavier version of it, because this is a general reading, but for some of you, this may be like... an accumulation of stress that has been burdening you and so you will finally be pushed to the end of it, and realise that you can’t take it anymore, you don’t want to think or feel hurt about the same thing anymore. It can simply be mental or emotional exhaustion from having putting in a lot of work / effort.  
I did mention achievement; so whatever that will happen here, whether it’s positive or not, you will feel like a stage of your life is completing. It feels positive though. Some of you will be graduating, completing a program, a contract, project. Some of you may go abroad, or relocate; some of you will connect with people abroad, people from different countries, or simply people online through this achievement. You may also feel more connected to the world, and wiser through this experience, like you can see how the world works and what is connected to what—having a mature understanding of the world and the interconnectedness of it all. This could also be related to your passion, heart desires, creativity, or the part of you that is drawn to the arts—so you may be led to explore your idealism, your artistic inclination, a hobby that you’ve been wanting to explore because it speaks to your emotions and soul. It feels very soft and genuine and like opening a box containing parts of your soul as a child. It will feel joyful but in a quiet way; you will feel content with what you have at that time and what you want to do. I think this will be the light that you will follow, which will lead you to more material opportunities, which may lead you to your person.     
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! At what stage of life will you meet them? What will be going on in your life at that time? Will it happen when you are living your dreams, or when you get a new job, etc? Find out here! 😘❤️
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haemey · 3 days ago
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It's another silly one! My first multi-chapter fic to be posted as a wip, but don't worry, it's almost done. Also very slightly too late to be timely, but who cares :P
🎄🌟🎄 Sweet baby Jesus 🎄🌟🎄
G-rated, currently sitting at 10.8k, I expect it to land around 15k once done.
Relevant tags: Fluff, Bickering, Crack treated seriously, Crowley is a little shit, Aziraphale is just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing, Established relationship, an unexpected amount of feelings, Post-canon
Summary:
It's a week before Christmas, Aziraphale is stressed by an influx of customers, Crowley is actually kind of enjoying himself, and Mr Brown has a Nativity Play to organise.
Who better to play the Archangel Gabriel than Aziraphale?
Excerpt:
Aziraphale's scandalised expression spoke volumes. “No decorations? During Christmas time? My dear, what are you even saying? That would be… well, it just wouldn't do!”
Crowley just shrugged and put on a new record: A children's choir rendition of ‘The most beautiful Christmas Songs!’ Except it wasn’t a good children's choir, but instead had been recorded on an early smartphone by an oh-so-proud parent at a school event. How it had found its way onto a record was anyone’s (except Crowley’s) guess. “I mean, it's the same every year,” he said, as he went to annoy a different customer, “you just keep complaining. And what am I supposed to do then? You're putting me out of a job!”
“Oh hush.” Usually, Aziraphale would have a discussion like this in a low voice, but deep down, he hoped that their bickering might be disconcerting to humans. Unfortunately, this had not seemed to be the case so far this time of year. “You still find plenty to complain about. Yesterday it was Nina not serving mulled wine-”
“It's December and she sells drinks!”
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61688722
(The link thingy is beig weird today, but it should work)
omg it’s FAN FICTION FRIDAY
Reblog and promote a fic of yours <3
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scribblesofagoonerr · 2 days ago
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new year, new chaos | buddy & monkey: double the trouble
summary: it's a brand new year and with it, there's a lot more chaos around the corner.
double the trouble masterlist
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"Oh, bollocks..."
You stare at the pregnancy test in your hands, frozen in disbelief. The tiny bathroom suddenly feels too small, too hot, too much.
The newfound nausea that you've been plagued with for weeks? Well, that mystery's solved. But now your stomach churns for a completely different reason-- sheer panic.
"No, no, this cannot be happening. This can't be right, can it?" You mumble, pacing back and forth. The words on the digital test stare back at you, bold and unrelenting.
Pregnant.
"God, it was that damn stupid vodka," You whisper, eyes widening in realisation, "Oh, man. I'm never drinking again. Never. I swear."
A sharp knock on the door interrupts your spiral.
"Monkey?" Keira's voice rings out from the other side, "Is that you in there? What's taking so long? I need the bathroom!"
"Uh, fu... Just a sec!" You scramble, wrapping the test in layers of toilet paper like it's some incriminating piece of evidence and hide it behind your back, "I'm... I'm comin' out now." You yank the door open, flashing an unconvincing smile.
Keira takes one look at your pale, panicked face and frowns, "Geesh, you look a bit worse for wear. Did we party a bit too hard last night, eh?"
You shrug, trying to play it cool, "Uh, maybe, I guess so..."
"Wait a minute," The older girls' eyes narrow as realisation dawns, "You didn't drink last night, you were practically drinking J2O all night... Oh my God, Monkey! Are you--?"
"Shh!" You hiss, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the bathroom before slamming the door shut, "Okay, listen, I need to show-- Actually, no, I need to tell you something."
Keira arches an eyebrow, "Alright, hit me with it. What's going on?"
You sigh, running a hand through your hair, "I'm late."
"Late?" Keira repeats, confused, "Like for something? You should really keep a better track of the time..."
"No, late late. My period," You clarify, cheeks burning.
Keira's eyebrows shoot up, "How late?"
"Like... Four or five days," You admit, scratching the back of your neck with your free hand.
"Oh, that's not too bad. It could be nothing. It could just be stress--"
"It's not," You cut her off, sheepishly pulling the test out from behind her back and unravelling the tissue. The words "4 weeks pregnant" are still there, glaring at both of you.
Keira's jaw drops, "Fuckin' hell-- Are you... Are you serious?" She asks in a hushed tone of voice.
"I mean, unless this test is lying..." You trail off, shoving it back in the bin like you can make it disappear, "I need your help, Auntie Kei. My mums are gonna kill me."
Keira lets out a low whistle, shaking her head, "Wow. Okay. Uh... Right. First of all, breathe. Second, we'll figure this out."
You groan, sinking onto the toilet lid, "I'm so screwed, aren't I?"
"Well..." Keira smirks, "I'm not the one who has to tell Leah Williamson that she's gonna be a Nana before she's 30."
"You're not helping helping!" You snap, burying your face in your hands, "I... I don't know anything about babies! What if I drop it or something? And my career-- God, it's all over!"
Keira crouches in front of you, her tone softening, "Hey, relax, Monkey. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna figure this out, alright? You're not the first footballer to have a baby. Your career isn't over. And as for Leah..." She pauses, her smirk returning, "Well, good luck. But hey, I'm here for moral support."
You groan again, completely muffled behind your hands, "I'm dead. I'm completely dead."
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“How did it happen?” Keira asks,  her voice a mixture of concern and curiosity.
You exhale shakily, glancing away for a moment before speaking, “The night we won against Bayern. Me and some of the other girls went out for drinks to celebrate…”
You vividly recall the night – Champions League group stages: Arsenal Vs. Bayern Munich.
“Be sensible, and don’t drink too much!” Leah warned you before you got into the Uber with some of the other girls, all of you heading to the club, “If you need me to pick you up, text me, alright?”
Leah had opted out of joining the team for the night, choosing instead a quiet evening at home with Buddy and the rest of her family. 
But you? You were feeling on top of the world. The win was secure, and the celebrations were already in full swing.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be grand. I’ll see you in a bit!” You waved her off, climbing inside the Uber and flopping down on the seat beside Kyra, “Next top, we’re goin’ the club!”
You, Kyra, Laura, Alessia and Vic ended up staying out long after the others had left the club, swept up in the thrill of victory. You were high on adrenaline, letting loose after weeks of intense training in preparation for the game.
But now it was over, and you could celebrate. 
And damn, did you celebrate that night.
“Monkey!” Kyra’s voice called out from across the bar, “Ere’, go on an have another shot of this!”
You glanced over, shrugging and grabbed the shot. You throw it back in one go, grimacing instantly, “Er, that’s absolutely rank. What is it?” You ask, rubbing your throat.
“Vodka,” Vic grins, slapping you on the back, “Drink up, and I’ll get us another one!”
“Eh, why not?” You laughed, having too much of a great time to really take note of the effect of the alcohol in your system, “Ugh, it burns the back of my throat, but damn, that’s good. Next rounds on me!”
You remember how the drinks flowed freely that night, and laughter filled the air. For the first time in a long while, you felt completely at ease. The pressure of football, the endless expectations – Gone, at least for that night.
You lean back in your seat, remembering, “God, we were all so drunk. I barely even remember what happened after that.”
At some point during the night, you’d found yourself outside, leaning against the wall, drink in one hand, vape in the other. The buzz from the alcohol clouded your judgment.
And then he walked up.
You didn’t even catch his name, and as far as you were concerned, he was just another lad who’d joined the party – A friend smile and flirtatious wink, and before you knew it, you were talking, laughing, and then…
A kiss. Just one. That somehow led to more, a mix of adrenaline, vodka and whatever else that made you lose control.
It wasn’t planned, and it definitely wasn’t intentional. It just… happened.
Now, sitting here with Keira, the panic begins to settle in. All you can think about is that night – The stupid decision, the heat of the moment, how everything can change in an instant.
You grimace, suddenly remembering a faint detail from that night, “You wanna know the worst thing I found out?”
“What’s that?” Keira quirks an eyebrow.
“The lads’ a Spurs fan,” You mutter, pretending to gag at the thought of it, “I don’t know what I was even thinking goin’ there.”
Keira lets out a low chuckle, shaking her head in amusement, “Oh dear. I wish you good luck with that one then,” She teases, her tone light, though there’s an underlying sympathy.
You bury your face in your hands, groaning, “My mum’s gonna kill me alone on that, never mind the fact I’m pregnant.”
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“I never realised how quiet it is around the house without the girls being here,” Elle remarks, swirling a glass of wine as she lounges on the sofa with Leah tucked up beside her, while Keira sits nearby, sharing a rare moment of calm.
Keira has decided to extend her visit for a few more days before heading back to Spain, stretches her legs out lazily, and nods in agreement.
“Monkey’s still here though, right?” Elle adds, glancing toward Leah.
Leah hums, sipping her drink, “She’s upstairs.”
“Oh yeah, but she’s watching Marvel. You won’t hear a peep out of her,” Keira chimes in.
“Enjoy the peace while it lasts, babe,” Leah jokes while leaning back into the cushions, knowing it won’t last long in the house.
“Indeed,” Keira chuckles, “It’s a rare thing when the double trouble duo are together” She states with a smirk.
However, the quiet doesn’t last long.
“Mum! Have you seen my iPad charger?” Your voice echoes from upstairs, “I can’t find it, and my iPad’s about to die!”
“And there’s the peace ruined. That was quicker than I anticipated it would be,” Leah groans, reaching for the remote to pause the show just as the doorbell rings, “Oh, and there’s the door– Chinese is here, Monks’!”
You would usually jump at the chance to eat Chinese food, but tonight, the smell wafting from the kitchen hits you wrong. The scent of the egg-fried rice turns to your stomach, making you feel queasy.
“Thanks,” Leah exchanged pleasantries with the takeaway driver, bringing the hot steaming food into the kitchen, “Monks’! Are you coming to eat?”
“She might have her headphones in,” Keira notes, walking into the kitchen.
Leah hums, beginning to open each one of the containers to dish everything up onto the plate, “She’d better hurry downstairs, or it’ll be cold,” She moves to grab the plates out of the cupboard, “Monkey! The Chinese is going to go cold if you don’t hurry up!”
“I’m ere’,” You mumble, the faint whiff of food instantly making your stomach churn, “Um, I’m not feelin’ all that well, I don’t want to eat that much…”
Leah frowns, looking at you suspiciously, “We ordered your favourite. What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know, I just not feelin’ well I guess,” You admit, shrugging your shoulders as you avoid her look, “I might just skip dinner if that’s alright? I don’t think I can eat much.”
“You do look a bit pale, Monkey,” Elle observes, concern flickering across her face.
“You haven’t eaten much all day,” Leah arches her eyebrow, dishing food onto a plate, “Just try and eat something, and if you can’t stomach it then that’s okay.”
“I don’t know if I can,” You look at the plate in hesitance, “I think I might just be comin’ down with something…” Your words trail off as the overwhelming smell finally sends you rushing to the bin.
“Whoa,” Leah is immediately alerted, abandonding the food and rubbing your back as you retch, “Easy, my girl. Take it easy.”
Keira grabs a glass out of the cupboard and fills up a glass with water “Here, Monkey,” She says, handing it to you, “Just take small sips, okay?”
You do as instructed, taking small sips of water until you start to feel better.
“There we go,” Leah murmurs, continuing to rub your back, “Do you feel better?”
You nod weakly, “I’ll feel better when I’m not near the food. It’s making me worse.”
“Wha… What’s going on?” Leah’s brow furrows, beginning to get suspicious, “You usually love Chinese food, and now all of a sudden it’s making you throw up. What gives?”
“I don’t know,” You mumble, avoiding her gaze, “I think I’m just unwell…” You try and avert out of the kitchen, but Leah’s quick to react and stop you.
“Not so fast,” Leah’s tone sharpens, and she crosses her arms, “Monkey, I know you. You’ve been acting differently lately. Talk to me, what’s going on?”
“Don’t be mad,” You whisper, voice trembling.
Leah furrows her eyebrow, “Monkey…”
“Please, please don’t be mad…” You beg, somewhat fearful about the blonde’s reaction.
“Spit it out, Monkey,” Leah urges, her voice softening, “Whatever it is, we can handle it. You just need to tell me what’s going on.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, hesitant to speak, “I’m… I’m pregnant.”
“What?” Leah stares at you, stunned, “You’re what?”
“I’m pregnant,” You repeat, barely above a whisper.
Leah’s mouth opens and closes as she tries to process, “Wha– How… How did this even happen? I mean, I know how, but… I didn’t even think you had even had your first kiss yet!”
“Mum!” You exclaim, embarrassed, very much aware Elle and Keira are still in the kitchen as well, even if Keira already knew.
“Leah, come on,” Keira interrupts, biting back a laugh, “The kids’ 19, she’s not a nun.”
“Wait,” Leah’s gaze inched in on her best friend, “Did you know about this, and you didn’t tell me?”
Keira holds her hands up in the air, “I only found out this morning, but it wasn’t my place to say anything, Le,” She tells her, “This is Monkey’s news to tell you.”
Leah blinks in disbelief, “I… I can’t believe this–  I thought you were into girls?”
“Yeah, me too,” You retort, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly, “I guess not…”
“Well, clearly not,” Leah mutters, exhaling a sharp sigh, “Is this your idea of experimenting? I mean it’s a little late, isn’t it? You’re not even on anything– You know, you could have talked to me about this, and we could’ve gone to the doctor together–”
“Mum!” Seriously?” You cut her off, tears stinging your eyes, “I’m freakin’ out right now… It’s all over. My career is over. My life is over.”
“Oh, no, my girl,” Leah’s expression softens instantly, stepping forward, wrapping you in a hug and resting her chin on your head, “Your life isn’t over. Sure, things are going to change… You’re going to have a baby, and well, you can kiss goodbye to the next 18 years of sleep, but…”
“You’re not helping me here!” You groan into her shoulder.
Leah chuckles softly, pulling back to meet your eyes, “Don’t worry, my girl. There’s nothing to be scared about. We’ll get this all figured out, alright? You don’t have to do it alone.”
You look at her sceptical, “So… You’re not mad? You’re not going to kick me out?”
“What? Why would I be mad?” Leah shakes her head, “Shocked, yeah. But mad? I could never be mad at you, my girl. Never. I’m here for you. We both are, and you don’t have to worry about ever being kicked out. This house is your home, for you and the baby as long as you want to live here.”
“I still have to tell Mama,” You murmur in realisation, anxiety creeping back in.
Leah hums in agreement, “You do.”
“Can you help me with that one?” You ask, wearly.
“Oh no,” Leah says quickly, holding her hands up, “This one’s all on you. You have to tell her, Monkey.”
Keira grins, “New year, new chaos, huh?”
You shift nervously, one foot to the other, “Alright, uh… I guess I have other news to break as well.”
Leah raises an eyebrow, “What could possibly be worse?”
You wince, preparing to speak again, “The lad I slept with is a Spurs fan,” You blurt out before bolting for the door.
“YOU WHAT?” Leah’s shout reverberates through the kitchen.
“Oh, I think that went well,” Keira snickers in amusement.
“Monkey, you get back ‘ere right now!” Leah yells, “What do you mean he’s a Spurs fan? Are you joking me?” She asks, emphasising the team name for dramatic effect.
Keira shakes her head, still laughing, “You took that worse than the fact you’re gonna be a Nana before you’re 30,” She jokes, “Nana Leah has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
Leah’s eyes widen in horror at the realisation, “No, no, absolutely not! That’s not happenin’!”
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You flop back down on your bed, leaving Leah in her mid-panic about the news. Despite her reaction, a weight feels lifted that you don’t have to keep it a secret from her anymore.
Now, you just have to tell Jordan.
“Well, no time like the present,” You mumble to yourself, grabbing your phone from where it’s buried under the covers. Scrolling through your contacts, you tap on Jordan’s name and wait for the call to connect.
“Hiya, little one,” Jordan’s familiar voice greets cheerfully.
“Hi, Mama,” You reply softly, biting your lip. The usual comfort her voice brings feels overshadowed by nerves.
Jordan immediately picks up on your tone, her brow furrowing on the other end, “What’s the matter, little one? Everything okay?”
“Umm…” You hesitate, gripping the phone tighter, “I have something I need to tell you.”
“Oh?” Jordan’s voice is calm but curious.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, “Uh, are you sitting down?”
“I’m not, but should I be?” Jordan jokes lightly, trying to ease the tension she senses, “What’s going on?”
Your heart pounds as you swallow the lump in your throat, “So, uh… The thing is… I’m pregnant.”
There’s a pause on the line.
“Right,” Jordan finally says, her tone a mix of shock and disbelief, “Are you… Are you sure?”
“Crystal,” You confirm with a weak laugh, “The positive test in the bin confirms it.”
“Wow,” Jordan exhales sharply, her usual composure faltering, “Alright, wow… So, you’re pregnant.”
You nod even though she can’t see you, “Yeah.”
“Have you told Leah?” Jordan questions, curiously.
“I told Mum just before I called you,” You admit.
Jordan hums on the other end of the phone, “And… How’d she take it?”
“Better than I expected, honestly. I mean, she was shocked, but she wasn’t mad. Although…” You trail off, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“Although what?” Jordan prompts, sounding more grounded now.
“I think she took it worse when I told her the lad’s a Spurs fan,” You confess,  bracing yourself for the reaction.
Jordan groans on the other end of the line, “Oh, for God’s sake, Monkey. Could you have not chosen literally anyone else?”
“Apparently not,” You quip, grimacing at the fact that you willingly slept with someone who supports that team, “Trust me, I almost gag at the thought of it. This baby is going to be a Gooner.”
Jordan chuckles in response, “Well I think if Leah has anything to do with it, it definitely will be,” She states, “Other than that, how are you feelin’?”
“I’m… I’m getting there, I think I’m over the shock of it now,” You admit honestly, “I was a bit terrified to tell you both, but now that you both know, I feel better. Less alone.”
“You’re never going to be alone, little one,” Jordan assures you firmly, “We’re always going to be here for you, and for this baby as well. No matter what.”
Her words bring a lump to your throat, but this time, it’s one of gratitude, “Thanks, Mama.”
“Always,” Jordan says softly. Then, with a playful edge, she adds, “But seriously, Monkey. A Spurs fan? What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” You reply sheepishly, “I was so drunk… I’m never touching Vodka again.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Jordan laughs in agreement, “Alright, we’ll talk more when I see you, okay? Try to take it easy for now.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to put the skydiving on hold for now then…” You joke with a laugh, finally feeling a bit lighter, “I can’t believe that I’m going to have a little rugrat of my own.”
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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sthilarions · 1 day ago
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It’s been a long, miserable case, and tensions are running high already when the warlock, Dennis, captures Charles and Edwin.
He locks them in a cell - more of a cage, to be honest - and casts a spell on Rowland. Just a little thing really. Because he’s been watching them, for the same weeks that they’ve been watching him, and he knows their weaknesses.
Rowland has fury in every bone of him. And Payne, the warlock has noted, is obnoxious as hell. A little shit to the core.
It shouldn’t take much. They were already snapping at each other when they were sneaking up his driveway.
The spell, Dennis explains to his captives, is sort of like vodka, and sort of like the opposite of a love spell. His own invention, he tells them proudly, which lowers inhibitions and fills the victim with unsuppressable rage at the closest target.
He casts the spell and hands Rowland back his bat through the bars.
It shouldn’t take much. He expects the skinny gray bitch to be paste in three minutes flat.
He’s not.
The spell seems to be working - Rowland is biting out curses, clutching his bat with white-knuckled fingers, downright seething, and the other one is pressed back against the bars, as far away as he can get, but absolutely no punches are being thrown, no weapons being swung.
Dennis intensifies the spell.
Rowland’s breathing becomes desperately harsh. Dennis can hear his teeth grinding from across the room, and Rowland finally raises his fist and swings a punch - towards his own leg.
Another harsh thud and Payne dives across the cage to grab Rowland’s fist. Rowland goes immediately limp in Payne’s hands, and Dennis almost screams in frustration.
So he’s not looking when Payne grabs the bat, and swings it at the bars, and apparently it’s more enchanted than anticipated because it smashes right through and, long story short, Dennis shortly finds himself on the floor with a magic-binding curse on.
“I don’t understand,” he whines. He can admit it to himself, that was a whine. “Why didn’t it work?”
Rowland shrugs. “Oh, it did,” he says. “Made me proper furious. I just really, genuinely don’t wanna hit Edwin, mate. No amount of lowering inhibitions is gonna matter when there’s nothing there being inhibited in the first place.”
“But - but you’ve been with him for decades, and he’s - ” Dennis quickly rethinks his plan of calling Payne a bitch as he eyes the twirling bat, back in Rowland’s hands. “He’s like that! You have to have wanted to, at least once, the spell should have grabbed onto anything.”
Rowland just grins down at him. “Nah. Never wanted to, ever, even once. Now, you, on the other hand - ”
The bat swings and Dennis doesn’t remember anything else for quite a while.
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lyricwritesprose · 1 day ago
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Philosophically speaking (and speaking as someone who is proooobably neurotypical but has autistic children as well as a strong tendency to end up as the Token Neurotypical Friend in an autistic group), small talk basically functions as a way of saying, "You are a person and so am I. We have identified each other as people and exchanged a brief People Ritual. Hello, fellow person! I may or may not ever talk to you again, but it feels good to acknowledge your existence and I hope that you, too, are a little less lonely knowing that you have made contact with another person." It's like seeing the lights of another ship when you're out on a boat at night. It doesn't directly matter that they are there, but gosh, it's sure a nice thing that there are other people in this universe.
To that end, small talk usually focuses on things that a couple of random human beings may have in common, and the above list is a pretty good one. You can, for example, generally assume that people in your vicinity are experiencing the same weather ("Man, it's a nice day, I know we needed the rain last week but it's good to see the sun again"), the same calendar ("Hey, happy New Year!"), the same general surroundings and local environment ("Do you think they'll ever get done with the construction on I-40?") and so forth. If you cannot safely assume that people are having the same experience of something—"So, like, I feel that Bernie has a point with some nuance on the whole H1-B thing but it is super surreal to see him on the same side as a bunch of idiot MAGAts who think that nuance is probably a Chinese plot"—then you do not put that stuff into small talk. (You have no idea what your small talk partner thinks of Bernie, H1-B, MAGA, China, or for that matter nuance. Too many possible failure points—avoid, avoid, avoid.)
You also want to avoid things that your small talk partner has or may have basically no experience of, which is one place where autistic people sometimes trip themselves up. "So I feel that the Virgin New Adventures in the Doctor Who expanded universe fell much too far on the side of making the Seventh Doctor a scary and near unbeatable chessmaster, when in fact his TV presentation leans far more towards whimsical, Sylvester McCoy is a strongly physical actor who was clearly playing things silly a lot of the time and that's backed up by the costuming and the fact that for heaven's sake he plays the spoons . . ." Nope. This IS a discussion that will be of deep interest to people who share your interest, but not when your conversational partner is scrambling to catch up with what is a Doctor, why are there seven or more of them, and why should I care.
Your goal here is not to inform. Your goal here is not to debate. Your goal is to establish a point of commonality. You are a person and so am I and this is how we experience our world together. And speaking as a neurotypical who struggles with loneliness due to physical disability—it can be really good, getting that little reminder that there are people in the world who are out there experiencing the same weather and the same traffic and the same days and nights.
I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.
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sanakiras · 2 days ago
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BOUND BY BLOOD
PAIRING — yoon jeonghan x fem!reader
❝ WHO WILL YOU BE WHEN NO ONE CAN STOP YOU? ❞
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WORD COUNT — 23k
SYNOPSIS — in an attempt to escape your past, you join your mother when she moves in with her soon-to-be husband at the other side of the country. the only downside is that your new stepbrother causes you to sink deeper into the rabbit hole you were so desperately trying to leave behind.
TAGS — depictions of death, dark content (stepcest + incestuous undertones), mc and jeonghan are two fucked up pervs coming together to maximize their joint slay, explicit sexual content, red hair!jeonghan, author hates her fucking writing and is a raging perfectionist, do with this information what you will!
♪ — ethel cain - family tree,, charli xcx - apple,, ruelle - monsters,, boy harsher - pain,, lana del rey - in my feelings,, unloved - danger,, twin tribes - monolith,, banks - the fall
NOTE — title is not what u think it is i promise. do keep in mind that this is just fictional and nothing more than a silly idea i wanted to make into a story, so please (!) skip if the tags make you uncomfortable <3
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PROLOGUE
when he checks her pulse to see if she’s still alive, you see a single car nearing the scene, the driver of which you then recognize as the last person that should see this.
joshua hits the brakes and hurries out of the car. “i saw you drive off like crazy, what the hell happened—”
his words are caught in his throat when he sees the body.
“shua. she’s gone.” your voice is strained as the sobs remain choked-up in your throat, your shaky hands tugging at his arm.
tears well up in his eyes. “what the—how did this happen?”
jeonghan forces himself to sound remotely shaken up. “i just drove here and she ran in front of the car. it was an accident, i swear.”
but a part of joshua doesn’t buy it. “out of nowhere? what the fuck is this, jeonghan? are you lying to me?”
“no. i swear to you—”
but he doesn’t let him finish. “this is insane. we have to do something, tell the cops what happened here, and with her brother—”
it’s then that jeonghan’s softer approach fades into something meaner. he pushes him against the hood of the car, trying to talk some sense into him. “and what do you think the cops will say, huh? you think they’ll just smile at you for fessing up and let you walk out freely? you’re an accomplice to murder, shua. everyone you know will hate you. this will haunt your name for the rest of your life ― get it into your thick skull once and for all.”
joshua’s breathing quickens with his sobs. “i can’t deal with this the way you can. i can’t do it.”
“you can, and you will.” he grabs his face, wiping the fresh tears away. “you just have to breathe, and you deny. you deny everything. you were not here, okay? i need you to go home, she and i will fix this.”
“you can’t keep making me go through this. how many more deaths do i need to have on my conscience?”
jeonghan shakes his head calmly, embracing him, his one hand on the back of joshua’s neck. “it’s not your fault, shua. it’ll be okay, promise.”
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I. STRANGERS
[ SEVERAL MONTHS EARLIER ]
your mother has always had a habit of moving from relationship to relationship. the passing of your father, which happened when you were too young to remember, left her trying to find something in the men around her you highly doubted she ever would.
but that changed a few weeks ago. because apparently, she’s finally found herself a man she wants to stay with. or so she told you. you’ll have to take her word for it.
the one wish of yours she’s always respected was to keep her boyfriends away from you — the last thing you wanted was some guy trying to be a father figure, and since her frequent relationships were often short-lived, there wasn’t really a point to getting to know them. seeing as you departed from home for your freshman year of college nearly two years ago, it’s no surprise that you were barely able to keep up with your mom’s romantic life.
when you arrived home for the summer break, she told you she finally found someone she was madly in love with, happily showing off the shiny diamond sitting on her finger. her fiancé is apparently some rich man living a few hours away, in a huge house at the outskirts of the city.
she initially didn’t expect or plan for you to come live there with her, nor for you to transfer to a different university, though she figured it must’ve been because of what happened last year.
nevertheless, she was happy to have you with her.
and now, two days before starting your third year at a different school, you’re seated in the backseat of the rolls-royce with your mother, and all you can do is stare out the window while the car pulls through the tall gates.
the place is even bigger than you were expecting — a manor straight out of the movies. the last sunbeams of august shine on your face through the glass window as you gaze to the outside.
well, you suppose living here for a little while before you find your own place isn’t the worst thing in the world.
you’ve only met your mother’s future husband once prior to the engagement. you remember he introduced himself as the owner of a successful international hotel franchise. he’s not too bad, clearly doing his best to not act like a father to you whilst simultaneously trying to show you that you’re more than welcome.
once you’ve arrived and said your greetings, your mother looks around for a moment. “where’s your son? is he inside?” she asks, but her fiancé sighs in disappointment.
“no, his flight was delayed, unfortunately, so he’s staying there for the night. he’ll be home tomorrow.”
right, you almost forgot. the fiancé has a son who’s a couple months younger than you, and since university is only twenty minutes away from the house, he still lives here as well.
yeah, you’re not looking too forward to meeting the guy. your mom hasn’t met him yet either, nor do you have any idea what he looks like, but from what she’s told you, he’s around your age, wicked smart, and friendly.
as you go inside the house, you quickly realize that your mother managed to land herself a man with a massive bank account. expensive chandeliers, marble tiled floors with big carpets that don’t have a speck of dirt on them, staff that’s taking your belongings upstairs — you’re impressed.
a member of said staff shows you to your room, which could honestly be considered an apartment, given its size. aside from the spacious bed that could easily fit three people, the room is decorated with dim lighting, big glass windows with a view of the courtyard, a fireplace, and your own private walk-in closet and bathroom.
well, shit. maybe you should just ask your mom if her future husband would pay your tuition as well.
despite getting to sleep in the most beautiful room you’ve ever seen, your first night in the manor is restless, and you arrive at university with tired eyes, hoping the caffeine will kick in soon.
traffic was so shitty that you’re now running late as well, so you rush to the elevators to get to your class in time.
you have a lecture scheduled on the seventh floor, yet you don’t see the number on the display, and you don’t particularly feel like walking up a ridiculous number of stairs.
“you gotta be fucking kidding me.”
you look down at your phone to see if you got the number right, only to be greeted by a guy with dark hair and tiny silver hoop earrings standing beside you, clearly looking you in the eye. “everything okay?”
“i just—i’m new, and i gotta get to the seventh floor, and i don’t understand why this elevator doesn’t go there—”
he quickly interrupts you. “we have two elevator blocks. this one is for even-numbered floors, you need the other one. c’mon, i’ll show you.”
you walk after him, passing two corners before getting to the elevators that take you to the odd-numbered floors. he presses the button, gesturing to the free elevator about to go up.
“thanks for the help. you got a class too?”
“yeah. ninth floor, though,” he replies, smiling at you, “i’m joshua, by the way.”
joshua’s hair is neatly gelled back with one or two strands hanging out at the front. you notice his slightly red lips, strong jawline, and gentle smile.
the door of the elevator opens again, and you realize you’ve already made it to your stop.
“sorry, i gotta go. it was nice meeting you.” you tell him before getting out, failing to introduce yourself.
you faintly hear him say bye as you head into the lecture hall, a big sigh escaping you once you’re finally seated.
your first day consists of a lecture of two hours followed by a regular class of three hours. the experience of a long first day in a constantly crowded space has made you both anxious and tired, so you go outside, stumbling upon a secluded spot between the buildings you’ve had class in today.
it’s the quietest place you’ve come across so far. it allows you to take a breather, a moment to yourself in the hot mess that’s been the past couple weeks, if not months.
although you don’t smoke often, you do have a pack of cigarettes sitting in your bag — and you find yourself reaching for it. unfortunately, your lighter doesn’t really seem to be working today, and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. “fucking hell—”
“you know that’s against the rules, right?”
when you look to the side, you spot some guy standing across from you, his hands sitting in his pockets as if he’s got all the time in the world to have this conversation with you.
a snarky reply works its way out of your throat. “what, you planning to rat me out?”
he pretends to think about it for a moment. “wouldn’t be a lot of fun if i did that, right?”
all you do is shrug your shoulders as you attempt to light your cigarette again, but he suddenly stretches his arm out, holding up his own lighter to let him do it for you.
the gesture makes you stare at him from under your brows for a few seconds, but he doesn’t move a muscle, waiting for you to accept.
so you slightly lean forward, allowing him to light it, and he looks at you with a certain level of intrigue.
he’s got something interesting about him, aside from the fact that he’s ridiculously handsome. his hair is dyed in the shade of a dark red — burgundy, in this bright sunlight — where you guess his natural hair color must be a dark brown, given the color of his eyebrows.
while he’s not the tallest guy you’ve seen here so far, he still sticks out above you, his long legs and lean physique doing enough to make him appear quite tall. he wears a lazy smirk like it’s his default expression, and you’ll give it to him — if he was trying to get your attention, it worked.
he leans against the wall, watching you exhale the smoke. “i don’t think i’ve seen you around. are you a first-year?”
“there’s thousands of people attending here. of course you haven’t seen me before.”
“how straightforward of you.”
“do you prefer small talk?”
the corner of his lips curl up. “i don’t. my question still stands, though.”
“i’m in my third year. just transferred.”
“well, i guess you fit right in. this is the place where i always come to get away from everyone else.”
“is this your way of telling me i gotta go elsewhere next time?”
“took the words right out of my mouth.” the chuckle he lets out sounds low and relaxed. “no, you can come here and join me whenever you want. only if you’re good company, of course.”
you finally take the bait of engaging in the conversation with him and roll your eyes. “sorry to disappoint.”
“i doubt you’d disappoint me.”
“oh, please. you don’t even know me.”
“i do now.” jesus christ — does he always talk like that? like he knows more than you do? “but, if you want me to get to know you, you should tell me your name.”
his gaze becomes surprisingly intense in the blink of an eye, and something suddenly weighs down your body like feet glued to the floor. “i’d love to stay and chat, but i have a class to get to. i’m sure i’ll see you around, though.”
he hums in a bit of a smug way, as if he can look directly into your thoughts and see what you’re thinking. you feel his eyes burning in your back as you walk away from him, into the building, and you force yourself to regain your composure.
several hours later, just in time for dinner, you get back to the house, utterly drained.
the living room has dark walls with a few shiny brown bookcases that reach the ceiling, a comfortable sofa and several other chairs. if anything, the house is styled with rich, darker colors, creating a moody atmosphere, especially at night with the dim lighting.
your mother calls out to you once she notices you standing there. “honey, come here and introduce yourself, will you?”
she’s standing next to her fiancé, but there’s another person with them, whose back is facing you — and you suddenly spot the color of his hair.
when he turns around to face you, it feels as if the air is knocked out of your lungs.
you can’t be serious.
it’s so ridiculously cliché that part of you wants to laugh. what the fuck are the odds of the guy you met earlier today becoming your stepbrother?
though judging by the way his face falls, he was just as unaware of your identity as you were of his. not for long, of course — that damned grin is back on his face in seconds.
he takes a few steps over to you, extending his hand to formally introduce himself, as if you didn’t meet hours before. “i’m jeonghan.”
you stare at him with a deep frown but play along nonetheless, so you shake his hand, curtly saying your own name in response. he repeats it to himself with a softer voice than before, and you hate that you like the way your name sounds when he says it.
then you look down, realizing he’s still holding your hand, and you almost push him away, trying to act like his presence doesn’t affect you in any way whatsoever.
dinner goes by achingly slowly. your mother is being all social and just so damn eager to get to know her future stepson, asking him questions, clearly taking a liking towards him.
jeonghan tells her all kinds of stories, making sure to infuse his words with all the charm he’s probably got in that frail body of his. as you watch from the sidelines, you can tell he knows exactly what she’d like him to be, and he plays the role wonderfully.
well-mannered, friendly, charming, intelligent. he gives your mother subtle yet sickeningly sweet compliments and she just eats it all up.
every now and then, he glances at you, even shamelessly eyeing your chest up and down.
you hate that you’re still intrigued by him.
he asks you questions as well — small talk, of course. probably just for show. your answers are shorter than necessary, and he quickly notices you don’t feel like talking at all.
once dessert is over, you excuse yourself, saying you still have some work to do for tomorrow, and you exit the room immediately to ensure your mother isn’t able to protest.
the sound of footsteps behind you makes you quicken your pace up the stairs.
as you’re walking down the hall, heading to your room, his familiar voice pops up from behind you. “you should’ve just told me your name.”
of course he’s the one going after you.
you scoff at him. “wouldn’t have changed anything.”
jeonghan has his hands sitting in his pockets when he steps towards you. “you would’ve known who i was.”
“did you know who i was?”
“i didn’t, actually. when my dad told me i’d be getting a sister, i didn’t know what to expect.”
“sister?” the way you say it makes it sound like an insult. perhaps it is in this case. “we’re just strangers. nothing more than that.”
oh, jeonghan already likes you much more than he anticipated. there’s a certain sharpness to every single thing that comes out of your mouth ― you’re surprisingly cold. he wonders if you do it on purpose.
“such hostility.” he remarks, enjoying the fact that he’s standing so close to you.
“maybe i just don’t like you.”
“maybe. but you’re not all that talkative with my dad either, nor do you seem to plan on it.”
“so?”
“so, for someone who voluntarily came with her mom to live with complete strangers, you don’t come across as willing to bond with anyone. unless that’s not what you’re here for, of course.”
“what are you saying?”
“you’re a smart girl. if you already built a life for yourself in another place, why come here? you don’t seem ecstatic to be part of a new family.”
“i wanted the change.”
“did you?”
“yes. what does it matter?”
jeonghan won’t outright tell you he finds it strange you get so hostile when asked about your reasons for coming here. “i’m just curious.”
“has anyone ever told you it’s impolite to poke your nose into other people’s business?”
“if you’re going to hide something, at least come up with a better lie.”
waiting for you to respond, he resists the urge to bite his lip, and the two of you stare at each other for a moment, a palpable tension rising between you.
“look, i’m not hiding anything. i’m happy for my mom that she found someone she loves, but as for everything else that comes with it, you couldn’t pay me to care. so i suggest you go and play with someone who does.”
truth be told, you do sound convincing, but then he catches you eyeing his body, and he makes up his mind just like that.
the only person jeonghan wants to play with right now is you, and he’s not one to give up easily.
his voice is all sultry when he bids you goodnight. “good luck studying, sweetheart. i’ll see you tomorrow.”
as he walks away, you grab the handle of your door, but you still look at him going back down the hall, and you find yourself wondering what his room looks like, what he thinks of you ― and perhaps more importantly, what it is he’s planning.
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II. BEWARE OF YOUR BROTHER
“hey. jeonghan. d’you know her?”
joshua points to the other side of the hall, at which his best friend curiously looks in said direction, only to find you standing there, typing away at your phone while looking as bored as ever.
“why?” jeonghan asks, curious as to why joshua would ask for you, since he hasn’t yet mentioned the news of his dad’s fiancée having a daughter.
“i bumped into her last week, on monday. she’s new. i introduced myself to her but didn’t get her name ‘cause she was running late for a lecture.”
well, that’s unexpected.
of course you met both him and his best friend on the same day. fate has such a way of bringing people together, it’s laughable.
jeonghan just gestures for his friend to follow him, and the two of them walk over to you, after which he greets you. “hey, sis.”
you look up at him with pure annoyance. “i told you to stop calling me that.”
“i told you i wasn’t planning on it.” he retorts with one corner of his mouth curled upwards ― he reminds you of the cheshire cat.
joshua watches the interaction with a deep frown set into his forehead. “am i missing something here?”
“the woman my dad is marrying has a daughter. daughter being her.”
the younger of the two looks wildly surprised as he processes it. “you’re gonna be his stepsister?”
“so he likes to remind me, yes.” you answer, vaguely recognizing him. “wait, didn’t i meet you last week?”
“you did, yeah. though i didn’t catch your name.”
jeonghan watches as joshua’s tone becomes even sweeter than it already is, his smile only growing bigger once you’ve given him your name.
oh.
oh, no.
the discovery that joshua thinks you’re cute flips a switch in him. you are cute, don’t get him wrong, but he doesn’t like that his friend is looking at you that way.
“well, i gotta go to class. it was nice seeing you again, though, joshua.” you smile, proceeding to shoot your future stepbrother a glare, and he’ll take any attention you give him.
as soon as you’re out of earshot, joshua hits his shoulder. “why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner? is she living with you?”
“well, i had other priorities. and yes, she is.”
“i can’t believe she’s gonna be your sister. what’s she like? she doesn’t seem to wanna be around you all that much.”
“she’s distant. keeps to herself a lot.”
“so she’s awfully similar to you, then.”
similar to him? he doubts you are.
jeonghan averts his gaze to the courtyard, absentmindedly replying, “i suppose she is.”
a few days later, your mother’s scheduled an appointment for both you and jeonghan at a clothing store in the city to get your measurements taken for the wedding.
which is why jeonghan finds himself standing outside the classroom you’re currently having a lecture in. his class ended about fifteen minutes earlier than anticipated, so he figured he could just wait for you here, since you’d agreed to go to the store together and meet your mom there.
once your class is finished, the door opens, and a huge number of students walks out of the hall, passing him by. to his surprise, though, he hasn’t been able to spot you yet.
when it seems the last students have left, he frowns to himself. just for good measure, he peeks inside the lecture hall to check if anyone’s still inside.
the hall is almost completely empty, save for you and some other girl who’s talking to you.
but there’s something off about the conversation you’re having, because it doesn’t seem like you and her are friends ― matter of fact, you look colder than ever, and he feels the harshness of your glare even when it’s not directed at him.
but then you look his way, and he realizes he spoke too soon, because you certainly don’t seem to be softening up the slightest bit.
you abruptly walk down the stairs, moving right out of the lecture hall, blatantly ignoring him as if he’s not even there.
he turns around and follows you with a chuckle. “trouble in paradise?”
“why do you care?”
“well, i like a bit of drama.”
“i’m sure you do.”
“seriously though — you’ve been here for two weeks now and already made enemies? going for a new record?”
“why the hell were you even outside my classroom? we were supposed to meet by the entrance at the ground floor.”
“my class ended early. and you’re dodging the question.”
finally stopping in your tracks, you stare at him. that cockiness in his attitude is really starting to get on your nerves.
so you grab his arm, and he looks pleasantly surprised at the way you grab him, pulling him around the corner, away from the crowded corridor.
but then jeonghan suddenly finds himself backed into a corner ― no one has ever backed him into a corner. “what are you doing?”
your fingers glide across his double-breasted blazer, and you have such a tight hold on the fabric that it almost knocks the air out of his lungs.
the expression painted on your face is unreadable to him. cold, perhaps a bit smug, but not sharp.
“you know, i’m starting to think you have a thing for me. being unnecessarily nosy about my reasons for coming here, now listening in on my conversations… i don’t like being put under a loupe,” you shrug, “i’d prefer it if you stayed away from my private life.”
“your private life? we live in the same house.”
“we do. but the thing is ― i’ve seen what you do. observing from the sidelines, watching everyone and everything. you’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
he tilts his head. this is a challenge he’s never had before, and it actually excites him in a way. because who the fuck is this girl who’s onto him and his ways?
“is being observant a bad thing?”
“not with other people, no. with me, it is.”
“you sound self-serving.”
“i am self-serving. i’m also mean, condescending, maybe even a bitch. the only reason i’m tolerating your presence is because i have to.”
jeonghan finds your self-awareness admirable. he doesn’t move from his spot by the wall you’ve pushed him against, but he does lean his face a bit closer to yours. “see, that’s the thing, sis. you don’t have to, just like you didn’t have to move here.”
fuck. he’s got you there, and it causes you to get hostile towards him again. “stay out of my private life, jeonghan.”
“or what? afraid i’ll find something interesting?”
“we may be family now, but that doesn’t mean you can bother me as you please. everyone has secrets ― either you respect mine, or you don’t. i’m not as friendly when people pry into business that clearly isn’t theirs.”
the smug smile you have on your face is borderline provoking. it almost makes him want to pry into your business. something about the way you look at him and touch him just riles him up like nothing else.
he mirrors your expression. “are you threatening me?”
“consider it a piece of advice. it’s all your choice.” you shrug indifferently, and you shoot him a fake smile before backing away from him, heading down the hall by yourself, and jeonghan huffs, leaning his head back against the wall.
well, so much for bonding with you. he’ll admit that perhaps he’s been a bit too persistent in his teasing ― for all he knows, you could’ve been deeply unhappy back home. he should probably hold back on pushing you about your past for now. maybe you’ll even start liking him at some point. even if you haven’t shown much interest in him, he certainly finds you interesting, and he’d like to become closer with you.
and besides, he’s not one to back down from a challenge.
the ride to the store is completely silent. neither of you bother to say a word to each other, and upon your arrival, your mother happily greets you both, pushing you inside the luxurious shop. an employee smiles at you, handing you all a glass of champagne.
it’s a little early in the day, but fuck it. calming your nerves a bit would do you good.
while jeonghan gets his measurements taken, your mother tells you to pick out a few dresses you like, mainly to see what style of dress you’d like to wear to the wedding. once you’ve decided on something, you’ll be getting one custom-made, tailored to your body, all courtesy of jeonghan’s father.
eventually, once they’re done with jeonghan ― since he’s wearing a simple suit to the wedding ― he plops down on one of the soft, velvet chairs, scrolling through his phone, only putting it down when he hears you stepping out of the changing room to show the piece you’ve put on.
by the time you’re changing into your fourth dress, your mother mentions she’ll just quickly head into the bathroom, and once she’s gone, he hears you call out from inside the changing room. “mom! can you zip me up? i think it might be stuck halfway.”
he doesn’t hesitate to walk up to you, pushing the curtain to the side, but it’s only when you notice it’s him doing it that you jump in your spot.
“what the hell are you doing?” you ask with furrowed brows, and he motions for you to turn around.
“your mom went to the bathroom, so the only one currently around to fix your zipper is me.”
you scoff. “well, aren’t i lucky.”
jeonghan tells himself not to focus on your deep cleavage, so he looks down to where his hands are.
as he gently tries to get the zipper to move, since a piece of fabric seems stuck in it, he bites his lip. “i thought about what you said, and i… i think we may have started off on the wrong foot. i’ve been pestering you for… no real reason. sorry about that.”
you’re certainly surprised by the change in approach — but you’re not exactly trusting. “does this mean you’ll stop asking about it?”
“yeah, i will. promise.”
“okay. in that case, i should apologize for being a little too hostile. when something upsets me, i get mean. sorry.”
he lets out a low chuckle, finally managing to separate the fabric from the zipper. “don’t worry. i can handle a mean girl.”
his hand pushes your hair over your shoulder to avoid getting it caught before slowly zipping you up, and the sensation of his cold fingers brushing past your warm skin makes you shiver.
“turn around.” he says, and you raise your hands, not expecting him to compliment you, but jeonghan appears to be full of surprises. “this color looks pretty on you.”
with a raised brow, you say, “don’t push it.”
he laughs at your response, “i’m serious. really, you do. aren’t i supposed to be your overly honest brother?”
unfortunately, he is.
so you cross your arms. “what’d you think of the other dresses?”
“that second one was terrible. you still looked gorgeous, though.”
the comment comes so unexpected that it renders you speechless for a moment, which makes him smirk in satisfaction again.
when the curtain suddenly whips open behind him, you both turn to your mother, who appears ecstatic to hear her ever-so-charming future stepson is being so helpful to her daughter already.
which makes jeonghan figure she must’ve missed the way he’s been eyeing your curves in every single dress you’ve shown so far, just as she’s been missing how your cheeks heat up when you catch him staring at you with that glass of champagne still sitting in his hand.
it’s all you’re able to think about during the ride home, and the rest of the evening.
the house is huge, yet it feels empty when jeonghan isn’t home. he left to go meet up with some friends for dinner after you were done at the store, and you find yourself restless over the things he said today.
you have difficulty trusting people, and you probably shouldn’t trust a guy like him, yet a part of you wants to ― badly, for whatever reason.
it’s the middle of the night when you reach for your bathroom cabinet to get some aspirin, and you come to the realization that you forgot to buy a new pack, so your only option is to either suck it up or head down to the kitchen.
in a white tank top and loose-fitted sweatpants, you quietly make your way down the stairs, huffing when you see all the different cabinets you’re still not used to. it takes you a few minutes of searching until you stumble upon the drawer with medicine, and you take the new pack to smuggle it to your own room.
“what’re you doing?”
the voice behind you popping out of nowhere nearly gives you a heart attack. “jesus fucking christ―can you stop?”
“stop what? i just walked in.” jeonghan replies in the same tone, grabbing your lower arms as if to make sure you remain standing. “i thought you’d be asleep, not ransacking a kitchen drawer.”
“i was supposed to be asleep, but i got a headache. obviously.”
he watches you gesture to the strip of aspirin on the counter and lets out a noise of understanding. “want me to make you a cup of tea? it might help you sleep.”
if you weren’t so tired already, you’d let him, but you shake your head. “no, it’s fine. thanks for offering though. you had a fun night?”
“yeah. maybe you should come with next time. i’m sure my friends would like you.” he almost makes the mistake of mentioning joshua asked for you, remembering to keep that to himself.
there’s something you’re dying to ask him, and you decide to just do it, since he’s standing in front of you anyways.
“are you being this nice to me ‘cause you like me or just for the sake of your father’s marriage?”
he doesn’t reply right away, grabbing a bottle of juice from the fridge first. “my father’s been in serious relationships with other women before. i never cared much for them or their families. does that answer your question?”
“somewhat.”
“you don’t sound convinced.”
“that’s ‘cause you’re not convincing.”
jeonghan’s buttons are easily pushed, at times. you like pushing him.
he smiles to himself, averting his gaze for a moment, only looking back at you once he’s significantly closed the distance between your bodies. “i like you. a lot, actually, even though you’ve mostly just been cussing me out.”
“which you probably deserved.”
“i guess so.” he hums playfully, and you mimic his mannerisms, nearly skipping over the fact that this is the closest you’ve stood to him since meeting each other.
part of you wants him to be even closer.
then his gaze moves down, and you follow it.
even though the top you’re wearing isn’t see-through, its fabric is thin, and you didn’t put on a bra before leaving your room because you didn’t expect you’d be running into anyone, especially not him.
as soon as you realize he’s looking at your breasts, you cover your chest, immediately scolding him. “oh my god, you’re such a pervert.”
of course, he’s hardly impressed, not appearing to care in the slightest that you caught him staring. “cussing me out again? really?”
“i’m heading up to my room. don’t even think about following me.”
“well, shoot. there go my plans for the night.” he remarks, grinning at you. “sleep tight, sis.”
“yeah, whatever. night, hannie.”
hannie. that’s cute. he doesn’t think you’ve ever called him that before.
once you’re gone from his field of view, he bites his lower lip, unable to wipe that damn expression off his face as he thinks of you.
he can’t get enough.
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III. WHO IS NOT WITHOUT SIN?
despite being an adult, your mother’s authority still has a hold on you sometimes.
which is why instead of being in bed all morning like you’d planned, you’re currently in a grand church, seated on a bench in the back of the spacious hall with jeonghan next to you.
your parents were adamant on sitting near the front, but when you were walking into the hall just ten minutes ago, it was jeonghan who quickly grabbed you by your arm so that you and him could sit in the back together, and you’re honestly thankful for it.
it’s only been a few weeks since he told you he’d stop bothering you with questions about your past and start being nice to you, and so far, he’s kept his promise.
you wouldn’t say you fully trust him yet, but you definitely are growing fond of him. he’s been showing you around the city, taking you out to lunch, studying with you in the library at university, and it’d be a lie to say you haven’t enjoyed every second of it.
physical touch is clearly a habit of his with people he’s close to — joshua, his father on occasion, as well as some of his other friends he’s introduced you to.
for some reason, you’re always hyper-aware when someone touches you, and you have to admit, he does a great job at easing into the physical contact. it started with some simple touches on your shoulders and upper arms, slowly but smoothly continuing, allowing his hands to sit on your waist and lower back.
and he enjoys the dynamic he has going on with you. it’s mostly lots of sarcastic comments, teasing and joking around, but there’s moments where you just quietly appreciate the other’s presence.
with a sigh, you don’t know if you’re talking to yourself, or him. “i have no idea what i’m doing here. i’m not even catholic. pretty sure my mom isn’t, either.”
“no? not a fan of monotonous singing in a cold hall on sunday mornings?”
a scoff escapes you, followed by a sarcastic quip. “such a way with words, brother dearest.”
jeonghan shrugs, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. “maybe you should pretend to be sick next time our parents want us to tag along. i’ll have no other option but to stay home and take care of you.”
is it so wrong of him to want you all to himself?
“creative.” you mutter with a grin, simultaneously hiding the effect his words have on your body.
he only gives you that mischievous smile, looking at you from the corner of his eye, and you can’t resist the soft chuckles escaping you.
not much later, he’s sitting closer to you, using it as an excuse to whisper in your ear. “me and my dad aren’t catholic either. i’m guessing it’s just about appearances.”
“of course,” you roll your eyes, “maybe they wanna get married here and this is their way of checking it out.”
jeonghan, very selfishly, doesn’t want to think about his father and your mother getting married. he just smiles at you as a way to conceal his true feelings, and all he can think about is that he should’ve met you first, that you should’ve been his.
so he averts his gaze, attempting to focus on whatever the pastor is saying, hoping it’ll take his mind off it.
the preaching is grim and anything but welcoming. words like hell and damnation are thrown around numerous times in a speech that feels almost like it’s spoken in a foreign language, and he hates it — he hates being here.
but perhaps not as much as you do.
“we must and will all pay for our sins, one way or another—” the pastor’s voice rings through your ears. his words keep replaying in your head, and it begins to make you feel dizzy, heavy existential suffering overtaking your chest, like a loud scream being pushed down but fighting to work its way up your throat.
you have to stop thinking about it.
you have to let it go.
jeonghan takes notice of your change in body language. where you were previously hardly moving a muscle, your breathing has become irregular, chest rising and falling more visibly, and you’re digging your nails into the skin of your thigh.
what he’d do to know what’s going on in that head of yours.
he puts his hand just above your knee to comfort you, and when you look up at him with almost disturbed eyes, all you find in his gaze is — understanding.
jeonghan doesn’t know what it is you’re hiding from him, but he figures you must’ve done something wrong in your past, if this is your reaction to the speech currently being given.
but he’s done wrong too.
his palm is still resting comfortably on your bare skin, and your shaky hand reaches out for his instinctively; it feels so right. instead of letting you put your hand on top of his, he raises it to hold yours, intertwining your fingers.
when you look at him with the corners of your mouth downturned and eyes glossy, your hand clenching his like you need it as much as you need to breathe, he chooses not to give a damn whether your parents choose to get married or not.
he’ll be there for you when you need it — he’ll make you his.
the mass is over before you know it, and as you’ve just walked out of the church, you spot your mother excitedly chatting away with her fiancé, not paying you any mind.
jeonghan catches up with you and gently puts his hand on your lower back. “are you okay?”
blinking a few times, you nod, trying to sound more cheerful than you are. “yeah. it was just… getting to me, is all. i don’t know why.”
but even you know the excuse is not gonna fly with him. he knows you’re hiding something — but he refuses to press you any more than he already has. “i want you to know that… you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. but i’m here for you, okay? i want you to be happy.”
god, you could actually cry.
the words affect you, and you move to hug him, which he embraces like his life depends on it. “thanks, hannie.”
“anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his heart racing when he realizes this is the first time you’ve hugged him like this, and that’s special to him.
the two of you hold one another for a little longer until you release him, and you loop your arm through his. “i’m drained after hearing that speech. wanna go get coffee?”
“you read my mind.”
leaving your parents behind, jeonghan takes you with him, hoping to spend the rest of his day with you.
the café you’ve just arrived at is relatively small, with a few people seated on the terrace outside and an older couple inside. jeonghan urges you to sit down at one of the tables and relax ― he figures you might like that after getting upset in the church.
with your go-to order already in mind, he goes up to the counter to order for both of you, and you’re staring at the people passing by on the sidewalk until a high-pitched shriek pulls you out of it.
“jeonghan? oh my god! it’s been so long, how are you?” the girl at the counter says cheerfully to him, and he’s pretty sure she would’ve pulled him in for a hug if it weren’t for the counter separating them. “i almost didn’t recognize you with the red hair! suits you, though.”
he gives her a polite smile in return. “i wanted the change, i guess.”
“what can i get you?”
“a regular cappuccino and a decaf, please.”
“oh, you got company?”
“girl by the window.”
her expression falters a bit. “is she your date?”
a question he’d prefer not to answer, really. she doesn’t need to know you’re the stepsister he has a massive crush on, so he just gives a vague answer like he always does. “something like that.”
she seems intrigued but refrains from asking any further questions. “alright. you got a stamp card?”
about three minutes later, he puts two cups of coffee on your table, sitting down across from you.
“thanks.” you mention, and jeonghan notices just a slight difference in your behavior. “the barista, is she a friend?”
jeonghan puts two and two together ― or so he thinks ― before taking a first tentative sip of his coffee. “her name’s bitna. we went to high school together.”
“oh, i know her name. she’s in my class, unfortunately.” you mumble mostly to yourself, but he hears it, gesturing for you to tell him more. “you remember when you saw me arguing with a girl before we went to the store a while back? it’s her i was arguing with.”
that raises questions in him. “what was she bothering you for?”
“fuck if i know. she was pressuring me about my reason for transferring, i just… i don’t know.”
“if she bothers you again, just come to me. i’ll deal with her.”
“well, contrary to how she spoke to me, she seemed pretty excited to see you.”
“well, this was our first time seeing each other in two or three years. but she’s always been… expressive.”
“ah.” you hum, averting your gaze when you take your cup, secretly cheering that she’s not some girl he’s seeing. when he taps his fingers on the surface, you watch him leaning forward over the small, wooden table.
“not jealous, are you, sis?” he asks you with a brief quirk of his brow, and you shrug.
“what should i be jealous of?”
“you? nothing. ‘cause you already have me,” he drawls, “from what a friend told me, bitna liked me when we were still in school together, but i highly doubt she still does. i mean, it’s been years.”
“you didn’t like her back?”
“nope. not my type.”
“so what is your type?”
a few strands of his dark red hair dangle before his eyelids when he looks up at you from under his brows. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’ve ever been in love.” but maybe he is now.
even though he doesn’t say the last part out loud, it’s like you can still hear it, and the way he looks at you ― god, has anyone ever looked at you like that?
the silent eye contact speaks volumes, and he moves to stick out his index finger, pointing at your cup. “i think your coffee might be getting a bit cold.”
rolling your eyes at his attempt of taking your attention off him, he just chuckles, and while you and him enjoy each other’s company, you fail to notice how the barista has barely taken her eyes off the two of you since jeonghan sat down.
two weeks pass by, and as your mother’s wedding approaches, you try to ignore the growing feelings for your stepbrother.
you thought it’d go away if you repressed it as much as you could.
which was a big mistake to think. huge.
the relationship you have with jeonghan becomes more complicated by the day. people around you, especially your parents, encourage you and him to bond like a brother and sister would, they even seem to act like you are related in that way — even though you most certainly aren’t — but whenever you’re alone with him, it’s completely different.
every touch you give each other feels more intimate, every kiss he presses to your cheek gets closer to your lips. with every passing day, the boundaries of what should be a familial connection get pushed further, the lines blurring.
and it, frankly, drives you insane.
jeonghan hasn’t directly expressed how he feels about you ― not that you have either, for that matter ― but the way he acts around you and talks to you feels like he’s definitely insinuating it, and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep it up.
but you have to, because he can’t be anything but a brother to you.
is it really that selfish of you to just want to have him kiss you? just once?
“honey, it’d be great if you could focus on standing still and upright.” your mother’s stern voice suddenly rings through your ears, shaking you awake from your thoughts.
“right. sorry.” you mutter, glancing at the dressing mirror in front of you. on your bare feet, you’re standing on a small, round display platform so the two assistants of the designer can perfectly see whether the dress you’re gonna be wearing to the wedding fits well and if it needs any adjustments.
the dark navy satin dress just about reaches your knees, and you have to admit ― you feel very pretty in it.
“the waist just needs to be stitched a bit tighter; it’ll enhance her features more.”
“i agree. we could also adjust the straps a bit.”
the assistants converse with your mother about their thoughts, and they follow her out of the living room not much later, leaving you in the same spot, admiring how the dress hugs your curves in the mirror since you’re by yourself anyways ― though not for long.
jeonghan, who’s just arrived home, peeks around the corner, and he leans against the doorframe to gaze at you, even if you’ve already spotted him.
“that dress is gorgeous on you.”
turning around to look at him, you smile at the compliment. “you think?”
he nods, taking a few steps over to you. “i do. looks like the bottom is a bit twisted, though.”
then you face forward again, to the mirror in front of you, and you watch as he’s standing behind you, feeling him tug at the fabric a little as he fixes the back of your dress.
goosebumps erupt on your arms when he suddenly touches your skin. the way his fingers slide from above the knee to your upper thigh is slow, and his voice is a lot closer to you than before.
“how does that feel?” he whispers, lips brushing past your ear, and you make eye contact with him in the mirror, your back pressed against his front.
you have to force yourself not to squeeze your legs together to give yourself some friction. the way he teases you has you aching to be touched. “feels… good.”
ironically, he needs to force himself to have self-restraint more than you do right now. he wants nothing more than to just rip that fabric off your body and get on his knees to taste you, but he can’t. he shouldn’t.
you’re the forbidden fruit, after all.
“i’ve thought about doing this since the day i met you. wrong of me, right?” he rasps, the cold metal of the silver ring sitting around his index finger causing you to shiver.
“yeah—you shouldn’t.” you tell him, yet you grab his arm and lean into his touch, allowing him to roam your body.
if anything, the way you give in to him like this only gets him hotter. “where do you want me to touch you?”
“hannie…”
the nickname has him inhaling sharply, “answer me.”
swallowing, you give him what he wants. “higher.”
your wish is his command — so he moves his fingers up higher, towards your underwear, and you let out a soft gasp, which nearly has him moaning in your ear.
then he rubs over your clothed pussy, and when you lean your head back, on his shoulder, he presses kisses all over your neck and cheek.
with a low voice, he whispers, “you’d let me have you right here, right now? when anyone could walk in?”
when you hum in response, he wonders how the hell he managed to come across a girl this perfect.
he pushes your underwear to the side and watches your lips part as he slides two of his fingers into you.
feeling you squeeze around his fingers makes him ridiculously hard in his jeans. “that’s it, pretty girl. relax for me.”
the gasps leaving your mouth are hot and erotic. hearing his breathing get louder and uneven turns you on even more, and you can only imagine the idea of having his cock inside you instead of his fingers — god, what you’d do to have him in your bed.
his eyes remain on your face. he thinks you just look so fucking pretty when your eyes roll back in pleasure, and it makes him want to drop everyone and everything just to be able to keep watching you like this.
right when he’s about to add another finger, you hear your mother’s voice approaching again, and jeonghan steps away from you, hiding his hands behind his back.
your mother looks surprised at the sight of her stepson standing near you but forgets about it once she notices your red cheeks.
“everything okay, honey? you look like you’re burning up.”
all you can do is stumble out an excuse. “yeah, i’m fine. just, uh… is it warm in here? it’s warm in here.”
she only raises a brow but continues talking to the assistants about the changes to your dress, and jeonghan subtly backs away from you, shooting you a satisfied grin.
it’s hard not to catch the smirk on his face when he leaves the room, sucking the taste of you from his wet fingers once no one but you is looking at him.
when he’s actually gone, you realize what just happened — he didn’t just make a move, he actually went as far as to touch you.
fuck.
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IV. SUCCUMB TO YOUR GREED
much to your frustration, you’ve hardly seen jeonghan since he stuck his fingers in you.
he went on a trip to the other side of the country for one of his courses, which took four days, and he only got back from said trip last week. while you’ve seen him around at certain moments since his return, it’s only been briefly or when your parents were in the room.
so, to put it shortly, you pretty much haven’t talked about it.
if anything, nothing has changed in his behavior towards you. he’s still as smug and sarcastic as ever — you’d think nothing happened.
reality begins to kick in when your parents announce they’ll be getting married in a mere two weeks, and the smile you have on your face is so utterly fake that it almost hurts.
all you can think of is how much you want him to yourself.
later that night, when your parents have gone to bed, you head into the kitchen for a snack, and jeonghan stands there, downing a glass of alcohol, it seems.
he lazily eyes you as you come up to him, and you turn the bottle to read the label. “whiskey? pretty sure you shouldn’t be drinking that like you’re doing a shot of vodka.”
“i know. if i’m drinking like this, it’s to get drunk. or at least tipsy.”
“by yourself? at home? you’re not secretly an alcoholic, are you?”
he rolls his eyes with a huff, pinching at your skin, at which you laugh and push him away. “no, i’m not. just wanna stop my mind from racing.”
“is something bothering you?”
he can’t stand how pretty you look, even in the darkness of the kitchen.
“yes.”
“wanna talk about it?”
“no.” he responds, and he swears he finds something of disappointment in your features.
his sweet girl ― how could he not give in?
the glass hits the countertop with a clink when he puts it away. jeonghan moves in to kiss you with full force, his hand behind your head to make sure it doesn’t hurt when your back hits the fridge.
what kills him is that you immediately kiss him back, because this is all he wants. you.
when he pulls away, his lips are swollen and tainted with your lip balm. your hands are on the back of his neck, and he has his one hand on the side of yours, thumb sitting underneath your jaw.
your heavy breathing matches his, and you lean in to kiss him again, but he hesitantly stops you — as if he needs to restrain both of you from letting this get out of hand.
“i’m sorry.” he has to push the words out, letting go of you, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and its matching glass before disappearing from the kitchen.
in disbelief of what just happened, you can only blink, dumbfounded.
the kiss is all you can think about whenever you see him the following days. despite everything that’s happened between you when you were alone, neither of you has brought it up, nor has your behavior towards each other changed in any way.
perhaps it’s the lavish wedding your mother’s so busy with that you can barely even think about it properly. the two weeks pass by so fast that you begin to process it on the day of the event itself, and just like that, you’re standing beside jeonghan by the church’s altar, watching with a blank stare as his father says the vows you couldn’t care less about.
what you do care about, though, is how criminally dashing your stepbrother looks in his suit, which matches with your dress. you can’t help yourself, glancing at him from the corner of your eye every now and then, and when he momentarily shifts his weight from one leg to the other, he purposefully brushes past your leg.
as your parents walk down the aisle together after being pronounced husband and wife, everyone’s attention being on them, jeonghan leans down to whisper in your ear, “we’re officially brother and sister now.”
“lucky me.”
he plays with your earring for a moment until you swat his hand away. “oh, don’t act as if you don’t like me.”
“i find you highly annoying, actually.”
“whatever makes you sleep at night, pretty girl.”
he’s given you so many compliments at this point that you’re able to hide the redness of your cheeks, but it still makes you feel like a schoolgirl getting praised by her crush on the inside.
all you can do is ache for him. have you ever pined for someone like this? you doubt it.
the wedding and everything that comes with it goes by smoothly, just as planned — except for your own agenda.
maybe it was selfish of you to hope that jeonghan would touch you again during the night of the wedding.
but he still hasn’t. and it’s starting to piss you off. first he nearly has sex with you, then radio silence, then he kisses you, followed by radio silence again — and you’re planning to find out just how far you need to go to make him cave.
it’s only a week later when the perfect opportunity arises, all courtesy of joshua.
would you consider yourself a party girl? once a month, maybe. you overall like to stay in more, but you welcome the occasional night of letting loose.
you very subtly mention the event to jeonghan on purpose. “are you also going to the party one of joshua’s friends is hosting tomorrow night? i forgot the guy’s name—”
“you’re going to mingyu’s party? with who?”
oh, you definitely detect that surprise in his tone. “just a few friends from class. they asked me if i wanted to come with, and joshua asked if i came as well, so… will i see you there?”
“maybe.” he answers with a furrowed brow, leaving the room, immediately texting mingyu about the details of the party, despite having declined the invitation two days prior because he wasn’t really feeling it.
and just like that, around eleven o’clock, he finds himself getting ready for the party, cursing himself for the way you make him act.
he hasn’t seen you since this afternoon, since you told him you’d go with one of your friends after class and get ready with her.
with his hair slicked back — save for a few strands hanging in front of his forehead — and a leather jacket thrown on, he heads out to mingyu’s place.
it’s the host of the party who comes up to greet him. “jeonghan! good to see you, i almost thought you weren’t coming.”
“i’m not planning on staying long. just wanted to say hi since life’s been busy recently.”
“i met your sister. she’s nice.” mingyu says, and it feels as if a switch flips in his head.
“yeah. where is she, by the way? i actually gotta talk to her about something.”
the taller of the two points to the kitchen. “i think she was getting herself a drink.”
“alright, thanks. i’ll talk to you later, yeah?” jeonghan says, giving mingyu a squeeze in his arm, which he reciprocates.
the party started about an hour and a half ago, the room already warm and reeking of alcohol and sweat.
when he enters the kitchen, he doesn’t see you anywhere at first — that is, until you turn around.
you look like a dream. perhaps even that’s an understatement.
a tight, black satin mini-dress with a sweet-heart neckline and a gold necklace sitting on top of your exposed collarbones. your makeup suits you perfectly — you look gorgeous.
what tops it all off is that sweet smile that rises to your face as soon as you recognize him.
“when did you get here, hannie?”
“i, um…” he looks you up and down once more, almost forgetting to answer you, “just now.”
you move in to give him a quick hug, and he has to hold back from letting his hands roam too low, sucking in a breath when you press your body against his even more than usual.
“wanna do a shot with me?”
“depends on how many you’ve had already.”
“only two. i’m a big girl, jeonghan. i don’t need my brother to take care of me.”
a funny statement, considering you’d actually like him to take care of you.
“it’s not you i’m worried about, baby.” he responds, mimicking your tone and attitude, which makes you grin.
you’ve shoved the tiny glass filled with vodka into his hand in the blink of an eye, and he clinks his glass with yours before downing the bitter liquid, feeling it burning in his throat.
“that was my only alcohol for the night. i drove here,” he informs you as he’s putting the glass on the counter, “you’re coming with me after this, right?”
you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you think of the best way to answer him. “well, it depends.”
the tension between you grows when he looks you in the eye. “depends on what?”
“don’t play dumb.”
he’s about to say something when he catches you briefly glancing at joshua, who’s absentmindedly checking his phone at the other side of the room.
oh, hell no.
“you’re kidding, right?” jeonghan scoffs, appalled at the idea of you landing in his best friend’s bed. “him, of all people?”
you’ve come to be so comfortable with him that you don’t mind being a little spiteful. “what? he’s cute.”
“i don’t care if he is,” he gets closer to you, his tone lower and sterner than before, “he’s my closest friend.”
“so? he doesn’t seem to mind that i’m your sister. besides, plenty of girls have a thing for being with their brother’s best friend, and vice versa. what’re you gonna do about it?”
jeonghan’s frustration suddenly dies down like a fire being put out, because he’s finally realizing what you’re doing, and his cockiness comes right back to his features. “you don’t even like him like that. you’re just trying to provoke me.”
well, shit. there goes plan a.
“no i’m not.”
“you definitely are.” he smirks gleefully, knowing damn well he’s right.
“i like joshua enough to let him give me a fun night.”
he has to dig his nails into the palm of his hand to stop himself from saying he’d give you a better one, but a part of him doesn’t think you’ll go as far as to go home with joshua.
“if you say so. have fun, sweetheart.”
“i will.” you tell him, leaving him by himself in the kitchen, and he rolls his eyes.
being at this party is slowly but steadily pissing him off. he can’t have fun or focus on anyone or anything else as long as you’re in this room, knowing you’re preparing to make use of joshua’s little crush on you. and to what end? to make him jealous?
he figures this, in a way, is the result of his own actions. he’s been sending mixed signals towards you about his feelings. the stunt he pulled at your dress fitting was uncharacteristically impulsive of him, as was that late-night kiss in the kitchen, and it’s not that he doesn’t want you like that ― it’s that he can’t.
or shouldn’t.
after two hours of unbearable small talk and several glasses of non-alcoholic beer, jeonghan decides he’s had enough. he will be taking you home tonight, one way or another.
from the other side of the room, he watches joshua lean closer to your face just to say something in your ear over the loud music — and he’s touchy. shua only gets touchy with those who are either friends, family, or people he wants to pursue.
a raw sense of possessiveness begins to swirl in his gut, the feeling of it reaching the tips of his fingers.
envy is a rare thing for jeonghan. usually, he’s the one people are envious of, as arrogant as that may sound. it’s not something he brags about, really.
but when he’s envious, he gets selfish. a little manipulative, even, if necessary to get what he wants.
so his legs move to get to you before joshua can do anything he doesn’t approve of, but then someone calls out his name.
“jeonghan? hey!”
he turns his head to find the last person he cares about right now. matter of fact, he really doesn’t want to talk to her, since she’s bothered you a while ago, yet out of good manners, he doesn’t show it, remaining somewhat friendly. “bitna. nice to see you again.”
the girl smiles a little too brightly at him for his liking. “are you in a hurry? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“no, i just… it’s nothing.”
while his head is spinning from sheer jealousy, he’s about to walk away from bitna when she speaks up again.
“i actually wanted to ask you something.” just the mere sound of her voice makes him press his lips together out of annoyance ― is it not obvious to her he has other matters to attend to?
“you do?”
“look, i, um… i’ve liked you for a while now, and i was just wondering if you wanted to… go out with me sometime?”
the confession falls on deaf ears, since jeonghan can only focus on the fact that his best friend is making a move on you across the room. “i’m—i’m sorry. i can’t really talk right now. see you later?”
bitna lets out a baffled scoff when he pushes past her to walk to the other side of the room, and she begins to get a faint idea of the reason behind his hasty behavior when she notices him approaching you and joshua, and she watches the interaction from afar like a hawk.
jeonghan runs a hand through his half-long hair and walks over to you, one hand on joshua’s shoulder and the other on your upper arm, as if greeting two friends.
“there you guys are. been looking all over for you.” he puts up a smile relatively naturally to appear convincing.
joshua, with a drink still in hand, looks a little bummed that his best friend had to come over to interrupt the conversation, but his fondness for him quickly returns.
“ready to go?” jeonghan turns his attention to you, and you have a hard time keeping your balance.
“already? i just got here, hannie!” you exclaim, your usual calm and quiet demeanor replaced by an outgoing and giggly one. he thinks it’s cute to see the effect alcohol has on you, though he doesn’t think you’re drunk, just very tipsy.
“i know, i’d prefer to stay too, but i promised your mom i’d get you home at a… somewhat reasonable hour. got the family gathering in the morning, remember?”
honestly, you can hardly even call it a gathering. you simply made the deal you’d be home to see your parents off before they go on their honeymoon, and it’s a perfect excuse to take you home now ― though you certainly could refuse him. if you wanted to.
but jeonghan knows better. you want only one person here, and it’s not joshua.
you let out an exaggerated huff. “fuck, i forgot.” but even in your less-than-sober state of mind, your infatuation for your stepbrother floods your senses, and you desperately want to be around him, ready to leave everyone and everything behind.
so you take a step towards him, nearly losing your balance, yet he catches you with ease. for someone appearing on the frail side, he’s actually a lot stronger than you’d think.
he puts his arm around your waist to ensure you don’t fall, and you happily wave at his best friend, who’s still standing beside you. “bye, shua.”
his friendly smile briefly returns to his face at your sweetness. “bye. drink some water when you get home, okay?”
you nod, walking out of the place with jeonghan’s arm still around you.
the road back home is quiet, and a bit of a blur to you, if you’re honest. he helped put your seatbelt on when you were struggling with the buckle and proceeded to force you to down an entire bottle of water, which you did with a pout.
with barely suppressed laughter, you and jeonghan walk up to the front door of the manor, and he has to constantly shush you to keep it down so your parents don’t wake up.
the house is completely quiet, save for the creaking of the chandelier above the stairs in the main hall. he guides you up until you finally make it to your room, where you let yourself fall onto the bed with a loud thud, eliciting a snort from him. “nope. to the bathroom you go.”
“ugh, to do what?”
“to drink some water, brush your teeth, et cetera. c’mon.”
“but ‘m so tired, hannie.”
“i know, baby. i’ll help you.” he coos, and your heart beats just a bit faster at the nickname.
so he helps you up and gets you to the bathroom, holding your jaw to brush your teeth. he’s awfully focused on the task, and you’re just staring at him the entire time, causing him to laugh.
“staring is rude.”
“maybe i am rude.”
he laughs again. “sure.”
you spit the toothpaste out in the sink and finally get some water in your system, and it feels like the sobering up of your senses is already happening.
it doesn’t make you act any less bold, though.
when he wants to say goodnight, you grab his arm. “wait—can you just—help me with one last thing?”
“what?”
“my dress. it’s so fucking tight that i barely got it on myself, my friend helped put it on. please?”
he looks down at the dress and back up at your face, and either you’re playing him to get him to undress you or you’re genuinely clueless.
but jeonghan tells himself he can do this. “turn around.” his voice is a bit lower than before, and you shiver at his tone before doing as he says.
the faint sound of the laces slowly being undone brings goosebumps to your skin, and you know it means he’s looking at the now visible clasp of the lacy black bra you’re wearing underneath the dress.
“were you hoping to impress someone with this tonight?” he somehow still manages to sound sweet despite the snark in his attitude. “joshua?”
it makes you look at him over your shoulder. “he’s cute. just… not really my type.”
he chuckles to himself, your back still facing him. “yeah, i could’ve told you that.”
you beat around the bush just for the sake of doing so. “why? how would you know what my type is?”
as he moves on to the laces covering your lower back, he pulls on them a little harder than before. “it’s unlike you to play the fool. especially with me.”
all you can do is scoff.
once he’s reached the last lace, he glances at your body for a moment before backing away from you. “change into some comfortable clothes and get some sleep, alright?”
with the dress still on, you turn around to face him again. “are you serious?”
“what?”
“you bring me home early as soon as your best friend is about to kiss me, and now you’re just not gonna act on your feelings? all of that for nothing?”
“not for nothing,” he says coolly, tilting his head, “i made sure joshua didn’t get to make his move on you.”
honestly, you’d be pissed off at him if you actually liked shua in that way. what does piss you off, though, is that he won’t make a move on you.
“i could always call him,” you suggest, though you wouldn’t act on it, but he doesn’t need to know that, “maybe he’ll give me what you won’t.”
but as always, jeonghan sounds unfazed. always the smartest guy in the room. “he’s too sweet for you. a good catholic kid. he probably wouldn’t even know what to do with you.”
“like you would.”
“i think we both know the answer to that question.”
“oh, please. you barely even touched me.”
“true. but you must’ve enjoyed it, since you’re here, asking for more.”
“and what’s stopping you from giving me that?”
“we’re family now.”
“says the guy who calls me baby and kisses me on the lips,” you scoff, making it your mission to get him to give in.
so you shrug off the dress that was loosely clinging onto your body to drop it to the floor, and the second he lays eyes on the lacy lingerie, you know he’s practically done for.
“it’s simple. say you don’t want me, and i’ll let it go.”
there’s something charming about his brain short-cutting now that you’re standing in front of him like this, and you’re backing him into the corner so easily. “sweetheart―”
“have you thought about it, since you touched me? having me like this?” you interrupt teasingly, and when he doesn’t say anything, you can’t help but smile in realization. “oh my god, you have.”
he’s clearly doing his best to maintain the untouchable persona, but even you see the truth. “it doesn’t change anything.”
you want him to act out for once, see what’s underneath that exterior. something about him makes you want to be bold — yet completely you.
so you reach behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra, and he has to swallow to keep it together.
if anything, he’s a bit baffled. he didn’t expect you to undress right here, right now, in front of him. but you just do it, looking as confident as ever.
with two small steps forward, you put your hands on his chest to push him back on the chair behind him. his breath hitches, and he tries to hold you back, failing to sound convincing in the slightest. “we shouldn’t.”
“you touched me first. you started it.” you shrug, moving to sit in his lap, and he does his best to focus on anything but your bare chest.
“i know that, but… i can’t. regardless of how much i want to.” he breathes out while your hands move from his cheeks to the back of his neck.
“i wore this set for you, y’know. just like that dress. hell, why do you think i even went to that party?”
oh.
oh.
sure, he figured you messed with joshua on purpose to rile him up — but he didn’t think you’d planned the whole night like this.
it’s something he would do, and a certain sense of pride rushes through him.
he makes the mistake of looking down where your nearly naked body grinds against his clothed crotch, and it makes him sick.
because the feeling of it is so much better than it already was in his wet dream.
“if i fuck you now—” he inhales sharply with his hand trembling on your lower back, “it won’t end there. i’ll want you again, and again, and again.”
it’s the only reason he hasn’t given in fully yet, something he realized after touching you the way he did and nearly getting caught.
he likes you more than he’s ever liked anyone, you’re addictive to him, and he knows that once he crosses this line with you, it’s over for him. he’ll want nothing more than to be with you, to fuck you and love you and have you be his.
even more than he already does.
“did you think i wanted this to be a one-time thing?” you ask, putting your hands on his jaw. “fuck me, hannie. please.”
jeonghan takes one look at your eyes and decides to say goodbye to that last thread his honor was hanging onto.
your kiss is gentler than anticipated. perhaps it’s because this is the first time you both fully get to savor it, taste it ― it’s so sickeningly sweet that he almost forgets you’re practically naked on top of him, while he’s still fully clothed.
he shrugs his jacket off with ease, throwing it onto the floor, your lips on his again before he can comprehend it. his hands roam all over your body, his breathing speeding up as his kisses trail down your jaw, to your neck, the sensation of his tongue on the skin by your collarbone making you feel weak.
with your legs around him, he gets up from the chair and puts you down on your bed. “i didn’t get to make you cum last time, so i should probably finish that, right?”
“but i want―”
“i know what you want.” he cuts you off, removing his shirt, smirking to himself when you shamelessly stare at his abs. “i’ll give it to you, but i wanna taste you first.”
he gets on the mattress in just his jeans, the waistband of his underwear peeking out from the top of his pants, and you like the sight of his bare chest.
unlike his usual patient self, jeonghan refuses to waste any more time. the way he acts isn’t rushed, but he’s got a certain hunger clawing at his chest that’s fighting to get out ― and it only really wants one thing.
your hands quickly reach out to grab his dark red hair once he’s got his head between your legs, his fingers firmly clasped on your thighs. he’s greedy, mouth and nose buried in your wetness.
“fuck—jeonghan—”
it’s when he hums in satisfaction that your eyes roll back. you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him run his tongue over your pussy, savoring the taste of you.
the sheer emptiness in your gut while you’re getting wetter by the second is driving you insane. you’re clenching around nothing, aching to be filled up, and he’s so mean for not doing so already.
his lips latch onto your clit, and you inhale sharply, your hold on his hair even harder than before, making him moan. he’s rubbing his clothed cock against the mattress while his hands and mouth are on your body, and he’s close to feeling fucking ecstasy.
when he comes back up for air, he’s breathing heavily, moving upwards to kiss your stomach. you take his wrists to bring his hands up to your breasts, and he’s almost hypnotized by your greed.
“fuck, hannie, ‘m so wet—just take me. please?” you beg, and he just can’t help it; he can’t refuse you.
he sits up on his knees to unbutton his jeans, fingers trembling in anticipation as he watches you glance at him.
shrugging off the last of his clothes, he reaches for the condom he’s got sitting in his wallet, rolling it on swiftly. he almost laughs at the way your eyes follow his every move.
“put your legs up.” he mutters, and you mindlessly follow his command, feeling the warm buds of his fingertips on your calves as he puts your legs over his shoulders.
jeonghan pushes into you slowly and gently, allowing you to adjust. you bite your lower lip with a soft grunt while your heat wraps around him.
your hands immediately reach for him, and he enjoys the feeling of your hands on his skin.
“i can’t believe you orchestrated this whole night. were you thinking about this when you nearly kissed my best friend?”
all you can do is let out a playful laugh. “would it be so terrible if i said i was?”
“a little. but i like terrible,” he shrugs casually, and you force yourself not to get caught up in the silver chain dangling above your face.
it’s then that you realize it’s a cross necklace.
the irony of it makes you chuckle, and jeonghan catches you staring at it, his eyes lighting up dauntingly.
“to think our parents got such a wonderful wedding in that church, and all i wanted was to fuck you right then and there,” his fingers dig into your thighs as he keeps his pace slow but deep, teasing you to no end, “i fucking knew you wanted me too. decided to make me jealous just to get me to fuck you — so dirty.”
“you’re the one fucking your sister—”
“says the girl who begged to be fucked by her brother,” he moves his hips harder, making you moan, “but don’t worry, baby. i don’t judge.”
he’s awfully cocky about the situation, which you do think is hot, but it also riles you up.
completely taken aback when you flip the two of you over, he’s suddenly got you sitting on top of him, and you’re shaking your head. “don’t start things you can’t finish, hannie.”
the lazy smirk he always sports falters when you slowly rock back and forth, his cock twitching inside you.
“fine. then you should finish it,” he mutters breathily, failing to come across as smug as usual, giving you full control to do whatever you want with him.
he hisses through gritted teeth when you clench around him, his hands finding their way to your hips.
“oh, fuck.” he grunts, briefly closing his eyes in pleasure, and you think it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. “you feel so fucking good, baby.”
as his breathing begins to quicken, he circles your clit with his thumb, causing you to shudder on top of him.
“shit! don’t—don’t do that, not yet—”
“i want you to cum around me. you can do that, right?” he urges you, feeling close to begging you simply because he wants to see your face and feel your body shake on him.
humming a response, you move your hips faster, trying to give him what he wants while simultaneously chasing your own high.
“oh my god, jeonghan—”
“that’s it, baby. doing so well for me.”
his praise is enough for you to hit your climax, your thighs trembling beside him, and the tightening of your muscles hits him to the point it makes him hit his peak as well.
once you’ve come down from it, he flips you over, going right at it again and again, until it’s deep into the night and you’re both spent.
your head lies comfortably on his chest, trailing his warm skin with your finger.
he’s softly stroking through your hair. “i can’t believe you did all of that. poor joshua became collateral damage.”
“you don’t sound like you care that much.”
“he’ll get over it.”
“you’re so mean.”
“hey, you took part in it too, sweetheart.”
“ugh, you’re right. you know, maybe i should go to the church. commit to the catholic confessions and all that.”
jeonghan scoffs. “what would you even say?”
you shrug, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “forgive me father, for i have sinned. i was at this party, and this guy who likes me was about to make a move on me, but i pretty much just left him by himself to go home with my evil stepbrother, who then proceeded to rail me into another dimension—”
“since when am i evil?”
“since the day i met you, if not long before.”
he laughs at the irony of it. “perhaps.”
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V. FAMILY TREE
life is surprisingly good when you’re in a secret relationship, jeonghan finds.
whenever your parents are asleep, he quietly moves to your room, slipping under the covers to find you naked and wet and aching for him. he’ll have his hand under your jaw as he buries himself inside you to the hilt with slow, deep strokes.
at breakfast, while your parents are completely oblivious, jeonghan has to fight the urge to smirk, knowing he was inside you a mere hour before.
the sex is ridiculously good ― but he feels as if you’re still closed-off to him. that distance that he felt in those first weeks of being around you has decreased, but it’s still there. he wants nothing more than to be trusted with whatever’s clearly on your mind, but he figures you don’t. not completely.
as jeonghan repeatedly knocks on your door to get you to hurry up for your trip to the cinema, he’s suddenly greeted by your mother walking down the hall, motioning for him to come over to her, away from your door.
“jeonghan,” your mother says softly, “i wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my daughter. she seems… happier, these days. she’s fond of you.”
the heartfelt words make him smile genuinely. “i’m fond of her, too. she’s good company, and i… well, i’ve never had a sister, so…”
“it’s wonderful to see you two get along so well, especially after last year. she was so torn up about it.”
“last year?” he asks, confused.
your mother in turn looks confused as well. “she hasn’t told you?”
“no, i don’t think so.”
she looks behind her for a second to check if the hallway is still empty, proceeding to speak in a more hushed tone. “oh, it was terrible. one of the girls who was a member of her sports team fell to her death while they were all gathered at a party together. the police officers weren’t on the scene quick enough, so all the girls saw the body, and the blood... it took a toll on her, she cuts me off whenever i try to talk to her about it. but since moving here, i suppose she’s gotten the fresh start she needed.”
well, that’s an interesting twist, to say the least.
how traumatic that experience must’ve been for you ― he doesn’t know why you wouldn’t tell him something like that. do you really not trust him at all?
when he takes you out to the city just five minutes later, he pretends not to know a thing about your mother’s words to him. he’s eager to wait and see when you’ll open up.
it takes you several weeks more to do so. you’re in his room, and he’s laying down on his back while you’re on your stomach next to him, pushing yourself up on your elbows, fiddling with your fingers. “do you think what we’re doing is wrong?”
“million-dollar question, isn’t it?” he shrugs while looking up at the ceiling. “it feels good to us. why would it be wrong?”
“everyone would disapprove. our parents would probably disown us, one might argue it’s even, you know… morally wrong.”
he blinks at your words slowly, voice slightly gentler than before.
“perhaps you should start looking at things differently. y’know, i ask myself a certain question sometimes.” jeonghan finally meets your gaze, and it’s almost hypnotic. “who will you be when no one can stop you?”
“and what’s your answer?”
“as for me — someone who doesn’t live by the rules. i live my life however i want. if that means doing something other people consider to be ‘wrong’… so be it.”
“how far would you take that? how wrong?”
“as wrong as you want it.”
he notices your breathing quicken. his eyes flick down to your collarbone before moving back up again. your hand faintly brushes past his, and he goes out of his way to put your hand on his chest, so utterly desperate to have that intimacy with you at every possible opportunity.
“can i ask you something, hannie?”
“always.”
“would you still like me if i said i was guilty of something?”
jeonghan refrains from making a playful comment when he takes notice of the seriousness in your tone, like you’re about to confess something. “what’re you guilty of?”
“i…” your breath hitches in your throat, and your impulsivity fails you, “no, forget i said anything.”
that’s when he turns his head to look at you. “hey, don’t do that. you can tell me anything.”
“i want you to still like me, jeonghan.”
he feels genuinely touched that you value the bond you two have as much as he does. “sweetheart, you could tell me you’re secretly the head of a drug cartel and i’d still like you. c’mon, tell me.”
you fiddle with his fingers to avoid looking at him, but you do begin to open up. “last year, i was a member of the university hockey club. i was close with a couple of my teammates, but not all of them. in february, there was a party on campus to celebrate the nearing end of the sports season, just like every year.”
jeonghan can almost see your throat tightening up. your struggle is so utterly visible that it makes him grow worried.
but he stays quiet.
“at a certain point that night, it was so hot inside that i went up to the rooftop to get some fresh air, since we were high up in the building with the party. about ten minutes later, one of my teammates also came up to the roof. we hated each other’s guts since the start. it was pretty obvious that she had too much to drink, but she began to just… talk shit to me, saying the team was better off without me and other teammates i was close with, and i got riled up, ‘cause i knew she didn’t like me at all. so our fight eventually became physical ― she tried to claw at my hair and face, and i pushed her away from me in the heat of the moment, i didn’t see that she was standing at the edge until she…”
he finishes the sentence as you refuse to do so yourself.
“until she’d already fallen to her death.”
you nod as a confirmation, and he finally manages to catch your gaze, a pair of glossy eyes staring back at him.
all kinds of questions run through his head. “what happened afterwards?”
“hannie…” you softly protest, heart crumbling with every word that comes out of your mouth, because it makes you feel so fucking vulnerable ― you can’t bear the thought of him leaving you or judging you.
he hums, tilting your chin upwards so you keep facing him. “no, baby. tell me.”
the nickname rolls off his tongue so naturally that you nearly miss it. “everyone who was there that night was questioned. there were no cameras, no witnesses, everyone knew she had a problem with alcohol… so i… i just said the same as everyone else. i lied. when the police ruled it an accident, everyone believed it.”
“it was.”
“except it wasn’t, because i pushed her.” you bury your face in your hands for a moment. “the shock hit me so hard that i went to the bathroom and threw up everything i ate that night. but once it wore off, i just… i didn’t feel guilty. i don’t care that she fell to her death ― it was unfortunate but bound to happen. and that’s what scares me, ‘cause i’m―i’m supposed to feel guilty about this, right? what kind of shitty person am i that i just don’t feel that? what the fuck is wrong with me?”
everything suddenly falls into place. the threatening arguments you had with bitna, the way you nearly had a breakdown at the church, the distance you’ve been so eager to keep since the day you stepped foot in this place.
this is what you were trying to run away from by coming here.
you don’t feel guilty because you pushed a girl plummeting to her death ― you feel guilt because you simply can’t bring yourself to care.
“did you want to push her?”
“jeonghan.” your tone is close to hostile, but his calm demeanor somehow pushes through.
“answer the question.”
“i—”
the stumble of an answer makes him smirk, and his face inches closer to yours, not allowing you to try and give the answer that’s clearly not the truth. “you did. you’re glad she’s dead.”
“stop. just stop.”
“you’re just saying this because you feel obligated to, not because you mean it. tell me how you really feel. i won’t judge you.”
every word coming out of his mouth tears you open little by little, exposing your biggest secret and darkest thoughts. but if he’s already deducted it — why not tell him?
it’s like you hit an internal switch. the stress begins to leave your features like he’s never seen before.
he finds it intriguing.
you finally give in and tell him the truth. “okay, fine. i hated that bitch to the bone, and i’m glad she’s dead. but i guess i still have some level of guilt, because now that i’ve done what i did… what kind of person does that make me?”
jeonghan flinches. he’s heard those words before — in his own head.
he wants to tell you that it makes you a lot more like him than he thought, to the point that it almost scares him. you’ve just trusted him with your darkest secret, yet he’s afraid to trust you with his.
what would you think of him? would you still want him the way he wants you?
“it makes you someone who had no choice. she was drunk, looking to start a fight, and you defended yourself.”
“do you really believe that?”
“i do. good and bad are a matter of perspective, and i believe you did the right thing. you’ll let go of that guilt with time. trust me.”
finally telling someone what you’ve had on your chest for so long is freeing, and he hardly appears as repulsed as you’d imagined him to be.
your voice becomes smaller. “but what if i don’t?”
“then i’ll help you. you’re my sister; i’ll take care of you, always.” he promises you, intertwining his fingers with yours, and you don’t know how to respond at first, solely because you don’t think you’ve ever been loved like this ― unconditionally.
with his free hand, he gently runs his hand through your hair, and it’s like you can finally relax now that you know jeonghan sees you as you are and cares for you just as much as before.
“thank you, hannie.” you mutter, laying your head down on his chest, and he presses a kiss on top of your head.
“anytime, sweetheart.”
his shoulders sink in relief under you. all he wants is the people he cares for to put their faith in him, and you’ve just proved you trust him with everything you have.
with you on his mind and in his arms, he drifts off into a deep slumber.
it’s remarkable how your parents remain completely oblivious of everything that’s been going on right underneath their noses. there’s been a few close calls, but nothing serious.
the last thing you expected after opening up to him was for you to grow even closer than you already were, yet that’s exactly what happened.
jeonghan has been particularly insatiable over the course of the past weeks. being all handsy, urging you to stay in his bed a little longer in the mornings, begging you to let him bury his head between your legs when he’s already done so several times — whatever’s in his system these days, it is strong.
not that you’re complaining.
being so comfortable with each other apparently also means pushing limits; the limits to possibly being caught, that is.
pushing his fingers inside you underneath the table when you’re having lunch with your parents, sneaking off into an empty classroom at university, showering together despite everyone being home ― the list goes on. there’s something thrilling about the idea of indulging in something you know you shouldn’t.
one line you haven’t crossed yet is slipping away from a charity event hosted by jeonghan’s father, though it seems that’ll be changing tonight.
jeonghan wasn’t planning on fucking you while the guests are still here, in his own home ― but you just look so gorgeous in that dress, and his jealousy is slowly but steadily going through the roof with every man coming up to you, clearly eyeing your dangerously low neckline.
as you’re heading to grab a new glass of champagne, you’re greeted by your dear stepbrother, and you’ve come to know him well enough to recognize that smug expression painted on his face.
“no.” you immediately tell him, and he huffs.
“oh, c’mon. you’re so not having fun right now.”
“can’t we just wait until everyone’s left?”
“on the contrary. this is the perfect timing.”
“yeah, for you, i bet. are you all hot and bothered, hannie?”
“i am, and you’re the only one who can fix it.”
the sarcasm might as well drip from your tongue. “wow, i feel so flattered.”
while your full attention is on jeonghan, and his attention is on you, neither of you are aware that joshua, who was invited alongside his parents, has been staring at you two since jeonghan approached you.
truth be told, joshua’s had the idea something was off about your dynamic that first moment he ever saw you interact with him, in the hallway at university.
jeonghan has never looked at anyone like he looks at you — full of intrigue, full of longing for something he can’t quite put his finger on. which he dismissed at first.
in spite of their close friendship, there is a certain barrier between them. there’s certain lines joshua won’t cross that jeonghan most definitely will, and perhaps he’s found his match in you.
but he still assumes that the relationship you have is platonic. surely it has to be.
only with each passing day, he begins to doubt that.
he’s itching to find out how you are with each other when you’re alone, and it’s a terrible thing to listen in on a conversation, but he wants this. desperately, for whatever reason.
he can’t help himself when he notices you going after him. following you from a distance, he quickly recognizes the room you head into is jeonghan’s.
the walls prove relatively thick, and his attempt to listen in from the outside fails, because he can’t hear anything.
so he blames the three glasses of champagne he downed earlier for making him go on with hasty decision-making as he quietly pushes the door handle down, not planning on actually entering the room, only having the door ajar.
jeonghan’s room is as big as a spacious apartment, so it’s no surprise joshua doesn’t see you anywhere at first.
it’s relatively quiet, with the crackling fireplace making the most noise, and he’s about to turn away from the door when he hears your voice in the background.
“you’re so impatient.”
then there’s jeonghan’s voice. “sue me.”
it remains somewhat quiet after that, until joshua hears noise he can’t make anything out of.
his curiosity gets the better of him, so he takes a few steps forward, peeking around the corner — only to find you together on top of the bed with messy hair and hands all over each other.
he’s taken aback with eyes blown wide as he watches the girl he likes half-naked and writhing underneath his best friend.
he hates how pretty you both look with the light of the fire reflecting on your skin.
jeonghan is completely caught up in the feeling of your heat around him when he throws his head back, but then he catches movement near the corner — and suddenly the two of them lock eyes.
of course he sees how borderline horrified joshua looks at the scene in front of him; he just can’t bring himself to care.
if anything, he simply ensures you keep your head turned the other way while burying himself deeper inside you, shooting his friend one of his classic lazy grins. your moans are the last thing joshua hears before he blinks to himself, leaving the room, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the process.
and jeonghan can only let out a satisfactory chuckle to himself, continuing to fuck you as if he didn’t just catch his best friend staring at the two of you.
matter of fact, it’s not until several days later that he sees him again, at university.
the hallway is as good as empty when joshua shakes his head at the sight of him. “i don’t wanna talk to you.”
“no? why’s that?”
shua grits his teeth. “how long has this been going on between you and her?”
“not long before our parents got married.”
“that’s several months.” he exclaims with his face even more horrified than before. “why the fuck would you hide something like this from me for so long?”
“why would i tell you at all, shua?”
a pang of hurt shoots through joshua’s chest, and he presses his lips together. “because i liked her.”
“and how was i supposed to know that?”
“you always know these things before i know them myself. don’t tell me you weren’t aware.”
jeonghan catches the hurt in his voice and decides to tone things down. “you’re right. i knew how you felt. i guess i didn’t know how to tell you.”
“look, whatever you’re doing with her needs to stop.”
well, so much for toning things down. he thinks he much prefers being clear and forward instead. “no it doesn’t.”
“jesus christ — you’re fucking your stepsister, jeonghan! how can you be remotely normal about this?”
where joshua’s anger rises, all that surges through jeonghan’s body is pride.
yeah, perhaps the whole thing should make him feel ashamed instead of boosting his ego, but it’s not like he hasn’t already crossed the line of what is and isn’t right. what’s the harm in going even further?
“i’m normal about it ‘cause i like doing it,” he shrugs, hardly attempting to hide his enjoyment, “we’re both adults. we already were when we met several months ago, we weren’t raised together, we’re not related in the slightest. so what does it matter?”
“oh, c’mon. she’s family to you now.”
“true. but i don’t care if i have to break up my father’s marriage for this, shua. she’s mine, one way or another.”
“is it just physical?”
“you’re asking me if i love her?” he nods for a moment, admitting how he feels about you. “i do. a lot. i don’t think i’ve ever felt this way about anyone else.”
that certainly puts a halt to joshua’s snarky comments for the time being. jeonghan is not the type of person to say something like that easily, which also means that no matter what he says, his best friend is not planning on giving you up anytime soon.
but joshua feels hurt ― so he’s going to test that love jeonghan harbors for you, even if it means stooping lower than he ever thought he would.
it’s silent, briefly. he leans closer to his face, narrowing his eyes. “does she know what you did?”
jeonghan’s blood runs cold at the sentence alone. his entire demeanor changes like the flip of a switch ― his lips are pressed together in sheer anger, and he visibly has to hold back from shoving his best friend against the wall. “the fuck did you just say to me?”
“she deserves to know.”
“oh, so now is the moment you suddenly have morals again? what happened to ‘taking it to the grave’, huh?”
“i don’t care what you do, it’s not my secret to tell. but like you said, she’s your family. if you two care about each other so much, then she should know.”
“shua, i value our friendship, which is why i won’t cuss the shit out of you right now, but this is not your business to meddle with. we keep this between us, just like we promised back then. got it?”
“sure.” the sound of joshua’s humorless chuckle rings through his ears. “you know, i used to wonder when you’d finally break. when the burden of what you did might get too much for your conscience. but eventually i realized that’s never gonna happen, because that conscience i thought you had? it doesn’t fucking exist.”
with those words, his best friend leaves him behind. jeonghan has to take a second to comprehend what just happened ― hell, he’s still not sure he heard it right.
neither joshua nor jeonghan are aware that you’ve been listening in on nearly the whole conversation from the other side of the corner, and you’re left asking yourself if you made a mistake trusting jeonghan with your secret.
because he clearly doesn’t trust you with his.
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VI. WHEN PUSH COMES TO SHOVE
jeonghan stares at the screen of his laptop with a hollow chest and overflowing thoughts.
truth be told, he doubts he’s ever felt this vulnerable.
ever since his falling out with joshua two weeks ago, life has been particularly shitty. his best friend still isn’t speaking to him, and you’ve suddenly started to distance yourself from him too, for whatever reason.
he’s pretty sure he’s going insane. it’s not like he said something to offend you, and you don’t even appear to be angry with him at all ― you’re still as lovely as ever, except you keep yourself far away from him.
every time he’s tried to talk to you, you managed to worm your way out of it, leaving him no choice but to speak to you when you’re about to go to bed.
“you’ve been avoiding me.”
as you’re taking your earrings out in front of the mirror, he watches you raise your brows in annoyance. “yeah, i have.”
“have i done something to upset you?” he hesitantly asks with a gentle voice and big eyes, and you almost begin to feel bad because of it.
you consider denying it and brushing it off but decide not to. “i overheard your conversation with joshua.”
he digs his nails into the palm of his hand. fuck.
“right.”
“that’s it? no witty remark?” you shrug, and jeonghan doesn’t miss the sharp edge to your words.
when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. it’s rare for him to be speechless, but he simply doesn’t know what to say to you.
it makes you even more annoyed than you already are. “you’re not going to tell me about the little secret you share with him, are you?”
he shoots you an apologetic look. “i can’t. i’m sorry.”
“why not?”
“because—” because he’s even worse than you are, “—i just can’t. and it’s not ‘cause i don’t trust you—”
“are you serious?” you frown at his sad attempt of making up an excuse. “look at what i’ve told you about me. i trusted you with something like that, but you don’t trust me.”
“i do.” he firmly interrupts. “i trust you more than anyone.”
“well, forgive me if i don’t believe that. if you’re not gonna tell me whatever it is you’re hiding, there’s the door.”
he waits for a second, the spasm in his fingertips being the only visible sign that he’s itching to tell you what’s been sitting on his conscience for so long ― yet not a single word comes out of his mouth.
with shoulders slumped in defeat, he hesitantly takes a step backwards, leaving you behind as he exits your room.
while walking down the hallway to get to his own room, he takes a deep breath. all he can tell himself is that this will probably blow over soon, and perhaps you’ll even forget about it, with time.
several weeks later, he realizes that those thoughts couldn’t be less true.
in the days that have passed since the argument, you’ve hardly even looked at him. he can’t stand this sudden distance between you ― he wishes you understood why he hasn’t told you the truth, but he’s afraid you’ll only understand that once he actually tells you. in which lies the problem.
he doesn’t do that kind of honesty. not usually, anyways.
now, for the first time in weeks, the crippling sense of loneliness he’s been feeling is replaced by annoyance.
he’s always hated the parties hosted by his father’s social circle ― but if he wants his inheritance, he’ll have to bear it. so he finds himself attending a gala in his tailored tuxedo, his hands sitting in his pockets, a deep frown set into his forehead.
maybe it was uncharacteristically naive of him to think everything could go back to the way things were before that conversation with joshua. the last thing he expected, though, was that he’d be the one left behind.
from a distance, he’s been keeping his eye on you. and from what he’s seen, you and joshua are friendly with each other again, and jeonghan gets the feeling his best friend only holds him accountable for the fact that you’re fucking.
truthfully, you came up to joshua a few days after overhearing their conversation, and you apologized he had to see you and his best friend together in the way that he did. with shua still holding a bit of a soft spot for you, he accepted your apology, and you’ve been enjoying his company ever since.
but he’s not jeonghan.
while anxiously tapping your finger against the champagne glass, you look around the room, since you’ve hardly even seen him tonight.
it’s as if joshua can read your mind. he leans down to speak in a hushed tone. “trouble in paradise?”
him taking notice of it makes you shrug. “no, everything’s fine.”
“sure.” he chuckles knowingly. “i get it. why do you think he’s still my best friend after all these years?”
“what do you mean?”
“i know you overheard our conversation a couple weeks ago. i saw you slip away, and now that i know you’re not on speaking terms with him, well… you put two and two together.”
“i’m guessing you’re not gonna tell me either?”
“i can’t. unfortunately.”
the cryptic response has you rolling your eyes at him. “i don’t understand why you guys are being so secretive about it.”
“because if he told you, you’d see him for who he really is.”
“and who would that be?”
“someone who…” he swallows for a moment. “someone who will make you question your own sanity. he’s willing to do the worst things you could possibly think of and then act like it’s completely normal. he’s the worst person i know.”
the brutal honesty catches you off guard. “so why do you keep going back to him?”
“i’ve asked myself the same question. there’s something about him that… i don’t know―just pulls you in, i guess.”
the short-lived silence makes you look at your glass of alcohol with a certain distaste.
“why are you telling me this, joshua? are you saying i should distance myself from him?”
“that’s the thing. there is no distancing yourself from him.”
“you make him sound like a monster.”
joshua doesn’t meet your eyes. “perhaps he is.”
the bitter statement leaves you baffled for a second — until you decide you’re sick of it. “for fuck’s sake, joshua, you can’t say something like that and not elaborate. i live in the same house as him.”
he’s clearly surprised by your sudden and strong grip on his arm, but all it takes is catching a single glance from jeonghan across the room for him to backtrack.
“i’m sorry.” is all he says to you before leaving you behind, hoping to find some peace and quiet in the empty hallway.
all he finds there is the opposite.
“you seem awfully close with my sister. thought you’d try again now that she’s not talking to me?”
joshua stops dead in his tracks. he turns around, seeing his best friend casually leaning against the wall, the soft light of the lamp above his head reflecting on his face. the red circles under his eyes almost match his hair.
“i’m not trying anything. i know she doesn’t like me like that.”
“i’m aware. but perhaps she’d naturally gravitate more towards liking you if you told her… our secret.” jeonghan manipulatively emphasizes, which his best friend fails to register.
joshua clenches his fist. “that’s something you would do. not me.”
“right. you’re a much better person than me.”
“i didn’t say that.”
“no, but you implied it.”
“just―just tell her the truth. i can’t stand that she knows we’re hiding something.”
“we’re not guilty of anything, shua. i told you that.”
“then why won’t you tell her?”
“because she wasn’t there. she wouldn’t understand.”
but his own worry clouds his judgement and shifts the conversation into a different direction. “i saw bitna tonight. it’s like she fucking knows what we did to her brother―”
jeonghan’s anger comes swift and harsh, causing joshua to flinch. “we agreed to remain silent on this, shua, so you need to keep your end of the deal.”
but jeonghan suddenly notices his best friend is now focused on something behind him, and as his body language changes into something smaller, jeonghan turns his head.
only to see you standing behind him with confused eyes.
fucking hell, he thinks to himself. what is it with everyone and eavesdropping these days?
“joshua, go outside, take a breather. i’ll be back.” he says, taking charge of the situation, barely making eye contact with you when he takes a few steps toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him to an empty room he finds after opening one of the doors, shutting the door behind you. the jealousy is painfully obvious in his face.
“you can’t avoid me forever. and what the fuck are you doing ― being besties with joshua all of a sudden? seriously?”
“oh, so i need your approval on who i befriend now?”
“you know damn well that’s not what i’m saying. it makes zero sense for you to be mad at me but all buddy-buddy with him.”
“because you’re the one i trust! i never put my faith in him the way i put it in you!”
“do you really think i don’t feel the same way? if you actually believe i don’t trust you, you’re not as smart as i thought you to be.”
“fuck you, jeonghan. if you think i’ll ever open up to you again in the way that i did, you’re wrong.”
when you’re about to leave him behind, he stops you, tugging at your arm, and you sigh.
“please don’t leave. please.” he begs, his voice turning small. “i wanna tell you — i’m just scared to lose you when i do. and that’s the one thing i cannot handle.”
you scoff. “oh, c’mon, after what i did, how much worse can it possibly get?”
when he keeps quiet, looking you in the eye with a stern face, yours drops.
“jeonghan, what did you do?”
after opening the door to check if anyone’s there, then closing it again, he rubs his forehead. “me and joshua went on vacation to a winter retreat over our november break with a group of twenty, it was an initiative from a classmate. it ended up being a couple days of a lot of drinking, and then one night, someone pulled out the harddrugs. shua and i didn’t want any, and the guys who brought it clearly thought it was stupid. one of them was bitna’s brother.”
you just listen intently, gesturing for him to continue.
“eventually, he went outside to grab more beer from the storage by himself, which was about a five-minute walk from the house. i slipped out of the room without anyone noticing and went after him. there was a snow storm outside, so the weather was shit. once i got to the storage, i told him to stop harassing shua about taking any drugs, but he reacted badly to it. we got into a fight, i don’t even remember who threw the first punch, but… i pushed him, and when he fell backwards, it’s like i could hear the crack in his skull. he was bleeding from the back of his head, unable to get up. i grabbed my phone to call for help, but all i did was stare at my screen. the guy was bleeding out in front of me and i let him die instead of letting anyone know. and it would’ve been fine — had joshua not come outside.”
“did he watch everything?”
“no, i don’t think he did. i told him exactly what had happened, and he… he came up with the idea of framing it as an unfortunate accident. so that’s what we did. the other guys were so coked out that night that they only found the body the next day, buried under a layer of snow. the cops found the drugs in his system, and he clearly hit his head, so they ruled it an accident like we’d hoped.”
“and you swore to take it to the grave.” you fill in the blanks, and he nods at you. “why didn’t you tell me this when i asked you? what were you so afraid of?”
you see something in him you’ve never seen before — tears. nervousness. panic.
his eyes turn red and his throat tightens up. “when you told me your secret, i was… happy. because the person i care for the most is the only one who’s experienced what i have. but what you had to do was nothing more than an accident, and what i did was on purpose. i could’ve saved that guy, yet i chose not to. i don’t care if that makes me a bad person — i just don’t want you to see me that way. as selfish as that may be.”
he’s on the verge of sobbing, trembling fingers sitting on your waist.
little does he know that you don’t view him as a bad person at all. “you had to make a choice, and you made the right one. who knows what they would’ve done to you if you’d told the truth.”
all he can do is nod, his throat too closed-off to talk.
“you’re my brother. you’ll always have me, jeonghan.” you tell him, remembering the words he said to you after you confessed what was weighing so heavily on your conscience.
and jeonghan cannot help gazing at you ― he realizes that you understand him more than anyone else ever will. he’s free to completely be himself with you as you are with him, and he’s finally processing that.
he cups your face, staring at your lips before pressing his own on them.
the kiss is slow but hungry — full of greed and care and wanting. his hands move from your face to your back, pressing your body closer to his, aching for your bodies to mold together and become one.
his whole body trembles when you break the kiss, and you cup his face as he did yours.
he can’t believe he gave you his bare heart on a silver platter and you chose to stay. you see him for all he is, and in spite of his many flaws, you want him just as much as before.
yoon jeonghan, for the first time in his life, finally knows what it’s like to be loved in the way he so desperately yearned for.
and he wants to show you that he loves you just as much. he leans in to kiss you again, but just when his lips are about to touch yours, the door whips open, and you’re greeted by a phone shoved in front of you.
the vulnerability on your faces is gone the second you recognize the person holding the phone as bitna — who seems horrified.
“what the fuck are you doing?” jeonghan sneers when he realizes she made a picture of your near-kiss.
she stumbles in her step, and it seems like she’s had one too many glasses of champagne. “at first i thought i was imagining things at the party, but i was right. i was trying to finally tell you how much i liked you, even after all these years, and you ditched me for your fucking stepsister!”
that makes you raise your brow. jeonghan just confessed to killing her brother, yet this is what she chooses to talk about — she probably wasn’t eavesdropping, then.
“and how is that any of your business? we’ve barely even spoken to each other since high school.” he responds, his voice to her colder than he’s ever been to you.
“maybe it’s not my business. but the rest of your friends here deserve to know what you’ve been up to, if you ask me.” she says, attempting to make her tone sound just as mean as his, but the tremble in her voice gives her away.
when she grabs her phone and begins to type like she’s on a timer, you both realize what she’s about to do — she’s gonna upload the picture.
if that photo of you and jeonghan gets out, it’ll have serious consequences.
you attempt to snatch the phone out of her hand, but she’s quicker, her sharp nails leaving a scratch on your wrist.
jeonghan sees you hiss from the pain, and he pushes her up against the wall, his hand wrapped around her throat.
“don’t even fucking try it.”
bitna panics and shoves her knee right into his crotch, causing him to grunt from the impact, forced to let go of her neck as he collapses on the floor.
she grabs her phone and runs out of the hallway, and you don’t waste a second, running after her.
with the gala taking place at a mansion by the countryside, you’re far away from civilization, mostly just surrounded by the forest and some badly lit roads.
you go after her even when she runs outside through the backdoor, right between the tall trees. it’s when she trips over her heels that you’re finally able to catch up with her, and you flip her around to choke her unconscious, but she uses her nails to scratch across your face this time.
“fuck!” you yell, and she uses the moment to escape once more.
with a few drops of blood on your face, you get up to go after her again, fueled by the adrenaline and blazing hatred in your system.
she keeps running, looking back to you from over her shoulder, and it’s right at that moment that she runs onto the road, forgetting to check whether there’s any traffic in her haste — and she gets pushed over by an incoming car.
shock hits you briefly, and you contemplate hiding between the trees to leave the scene of the crime until you recognize the car as well as its driver.
jeonghan gets out, and you run over to him, finding him standing by bitna’s body, which is now several meters away from the car due to the crash.
“fucking hell — what just happened? i wasn’t even trying to hit her, she just ran in front of the car out of fucking nowhere—did she do that to your face?”
with your breathing slowing bit by bit, you nod, and you both look down at the body, only to realize she’s still breathing, but her injuries are so bad that she can’t get up, and she’s coughing up blood. hell, it looks like she can hardly even move at all.
the sound of her pained grunts hardly affect you when you take her phone out of her pocket to delete the picture before putting it back again.
“sweetheart.” jeonghan says to you, and you look at each other for a moment. “she knows too much.”
you sigh, turning around to check if there’s any cars coming, but the road is remote and empty, and it’s late at night.
“who’s gonna do it?”
he wordlessly sinks down to one knee, staring down at bitna even when his hand squeezes her throat and the life leaves her eyes. he only closes his eyes when some splatters of the blood she was coughing up hits his cheek, which he wipes away with his other hand.
when he checks her pulse to see if she’s still alive, you see a single car nearing the scene, the driver of which you then recognize as the last person that should see this.
joshua hits the brakes and hurries out of the car. “i saw you drive off like crazy, what the hell happened—”
his words are caught in his throat when he sees the body.
“shua. she’s gone.” your voice is strained as the sobs remain choked-up in your throat, your shaky hands tugging at his arm.
tears well up in his eyes. “what the—how did this happen?”
jeonghan forces himself to sound remotely shaken up. “i just drove here and she ran in front of the car. it was an accident, i swear.”
but a part of joshua doesn’t buy it. “out of nowhere? what the fuck is this, jeonghan? are you lying to me?”
“no. i swear to you—”
but he doesn’t let him finish. “this is insane. we have to do something, tell the cops what happened here, and with her brother—”
it’s then that jeonghan’s softer approach fades into something meaner. he pushes him against the hood of the car, trying to talk some sense into him. “and what do you think the cops will say, huh? you think they’ll just smile at you for fessing up and let you walk out freely? you’re an accomplice to murder, shua. everyone you know will hate you. this will haunt your name for the rest of your life ― get it into your thick skull once and for all.”
joshua’s breathing quickens with his sobs. “i can’t deal with this the way you can. i can’t do it.”
“you can, and you will.” he grabs his face, wiping the fresh tears away. “you just have to breathe, and you deny. you deny everything. you were not here, okay? i need you to go home, she and i will fix this.”
“you can’t keep making me go through this. how many more deaths do i need to have on my conscience before it’s enough?”
jeonghan shakes his head calmly, embracing him, his one hand on the back of joshua’s neck. “it’s not your fault, shua. it’ll be okay, promise.”
joshua glances at you, seeing your distraught face, and the portion of trust he lost in his best friend, he chooses to find in you.
and so he believes it. he tells himself it was an accident, and does what he’s told.
the moment joshua walks back to get into his car, jeonghan peers at you, the flickering red light reflecting on your tear-streaked face. the emotions you were displaying mere seconds ago are entirely gone, replaced by something numb and indifferent in the blink of an eye.
it’s like looking into a mirror.
as joshua’s in the driver’s seat, jeonghan tells him what to do one last time before the younger of the two drives off, leaving only you and your brother behind.
what happens next is like a blur. jeonghan tells you something about a nearby lake, which is where he takes the body to get rid of it. once he returns, he’s empty-handed, save for the fresh blood on his conscience.
you’re in the driver’s seat, watching him get in beside you, his clothes stained with red spots.
he sits still for a moment, but as soon as you turn your head, he holds your chin and kisses you.
it’s far less gentle than before, more lust than anything, but it’s something you both need right now.
with your forehead leaning against his, you breathe into each other’s mouths. “we gotta go home, hannie. before our parents get back.” you whisper.
all he can do is hum in agreement, kissing you one more time before you start the car.
once you’re home, you park the car out of sight, as it needs to be cleaned and repaired.
you eventually manage to get into jeonghan’s room unseen. he yanks his stained shirt over his head, throwing it into the fireplace to get rid of every piece of evidence he can think of. you immediately go on to wash your hands by the sink.
it’s interesting for you to watch how he behaves at a moment like this — it’s hard to tell whether his thoughts are racing or completely frozen. he moves to the bathroom to scrub the blood off his hands and nails, going at it for several minutes until there’s not a speck of red left.
then he comes walking back, heading straight for the whiskey bottle on top of the coffee table to down two glasses in one go.
“you put up a show for joshua.” he states.
“what do you mean?”
“the crying. it stopped the second you knew he wasn’t paying attention to it anymore.”
kudos to him for being so perceptive. you didn’t think he noticed.
“so?”
he takes a few steps over to you. “i saw it. that moment your expression completely changed… i used to think we were different, in a way. but we’re really not.”
it only makes you shrug your shoulders. “and now? am i no longer a good person to you, little brother?”
jeonghan mimics the teasing in your tone. “i think being a good person is overrated.”
his tone and gaze and grip on your hips is harsher than usual, and as soon as he’s got you pressed against the wall, you realize he’s rock-hard.
“you looked so fucking good doing that. the way you talked to joshua, saying the exact things you needed to say to get him to believe you, the blood on your face—” he mutters, completely lost in his desires now that you’ve made them a reality, “you were perfect. my sweet sister.”
your nails harshly dig into his skin, hot arousal dripping between your legs. you pull your dress of and discard it onto the floor, taking a few steps back to his desk, pulling him with you with your finger at the waistband of his boxers.
“need you in me. please, i’m so fucking wet—”
after laying you back on his desk, he rubs his cock against your entrance, finding you soaking for him, and he has to force himself to keep his composure and not completely fall apart already.
a shameless moan escapes him when he pushes himself inside you, and his pace quickly increases, his mouth moving to your sensitive nipples. you wrap your legs around his waist at the sensation, and his warm saliva coats your breasts while he keeps fucking into you.
you don’t think the coil in your stomach has ever built up this fast. all you want is for him to keep fucking you throughout the night, and by the looks of it, he’s far from done with you.
he leaves hickeys all over your upper body, feeling more possessive of you than ever before, and you suck his cock so tightly into your cunt that he wants to stay like this forever.
“let me cum inside you, baby, please. wanna see it drip out of you — oh my god, please, let me have it—”
the sound of his begging turns you even wetter. “yes, yes, cum in me, hannie.”
it’s a mere matter of seconds before you feel him shudder, emptying himself inside you, and he looks down to see drops of his white cum seeping out of your dripping pussy. he watches you rub at your clit before you dip your finger inside, pushing his cum back into you, and his breath visibly hitches in his throat.
his cock has never been hard faster, and he rubs himself at the sight of your pussy, moaning when you begin to finger yourself in front of him, the wet noise ringing through his ears.
“let me fuck you again. wanna fuck you again so bad, baby, look at how wet you are, jesus christ—”
“want it harder this time, hannie.” you nod, pulling him closer to you again, and he’s utterly hypnotized, as if you’re some holy being speaking to someone beneath you.
and as always, he’ll gladly oblige you, so he sheathes himself inside, giving you exactly what you want.
you both lose complete track of time in his room, lost in your own world, waking up the next day to the news that the girl whose body you dumped into the lake is considered missing by the authorities.
it’s two days later when they discover her body, and as you’d hoped, the police appear to believe her death was an unfortunate accident rather than cold-blooded murder.
bitna’s funeral is grim.
it’s more crowded than you anticipated, but the majority of people attending are either family, current classmates or former classmates, you and jeonghan falling into the latter categories. you blend in well with the other attendees.
with your black coats and leather gloves on, you stare at the casket being lowered into the ground.
once the people leaving are out of earshot, the two of you glance at the tombstone. “what a shame. she was young.”
jeonghan nods slowly. “and she made a mistake by trying to meddle with business that wasn’t hers.”
“do you have any regrets? about the things that happened?”
“no. do you?”
“i should, probably. but i don’t.” you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. “i have a feeling joshua is gonna lose his shit, though. he’s fragile.”
“you’d be surprised, actually.” he leans toward you, making sure that no one can hear him. “when bitna’s brother died, it was his idea to frame it as suicide.”
“seriously? i thought it was yours.”
“to be fair, i’d come up with the idea already, but i wanted him to be the one to say it. all he needed was me mentioning what the consequences would be — were we to confess what happened. the image of spending a solid part of your life in prison does wonders for some.”
deadpanning a stare, you snort. “you manipulated him into coming up with the suicide so he couldn’t blame you later on.”
a smirk tugs at his lips, yet he tilts his head. “don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”
“fine, you got me there.”
you both chuckle quietly, after which it’s briefly quiet. shifting your gaze down to the ground, you huff to yourself.
“well, i guess this is who we are when no one can stop us.” you sigh. “somehow always at the scene of the crime.”
“this is who we are when we take care of each other.” he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side, rubbing at your clothed skin as he holds you. “you’re my sister. i’ll do anything for you — i want you to know that.”
“i do.” you nod, laying your head down on his shoulder. “i also know you don’t want me to protect you, but… i will. always.”
with a kiss pressed to your temple, he gives you his response to the sentiment.
sure, you and jeonghan may not share the same blood, but you are bound by the secrets you’ve shared and the blood you’ve spilled, and all you can feel for the future is… excitement.
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thank u for reading. please let me know if u enjoyed it x
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
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starkenobi · 2 days ago
Text
Stupidly in Love | Bucky Barnes x reader
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masterlist — warnings: mcu; avenger!reader; misunderstanding; idiots to lovers; romcom; fluff.
Summary: Y/N agrees to help Bucky win Natasha's heart. No problem, right? Except for the fact that Natasha is her best friend and Bucky is her crush. Where the hell had she gotten herself into?
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Y/N didn’t know how she ended up in that situation. Okay, frankly, deep inside she knew. She had dug her own grave. Just didn’t imagine it would be so damn deep. Who’d have imagined that approaching her crush would automatically result in that kind of misfortune? It sounded way too much like those awful teenage movies. But here she was, agreeing to help her crush to go out with her best friend.
Look, in her defense, she panicked. She should have confessed right there, but she chickened out. C'mon, it's Bucky Barnes she's talking about. The famous Winter Soldier, Captain America's best friend and one of the greatest Avenger's spy. Of course, she could hold her ground just fine too, even getting the nickname of Avenger's golden wildcard. But was it enough? Sometimes she didn't think so.
She was doomed.
It all happened so fast. She was in the library studying for her next mission when Bucky appeared in all his glory, approaching with determined steps. And then there was her, with doe eyes, trying to assimilate the whirlwind of words that escaped from Bucky’s lips. She was caught off guard, with her crush before her speaking so passionately... What should she do, say no? Probably, unfortunately, her brain crashed, and fifteen minutes later, she was running toward the shooting range, where she knew her best friend was. But when Y/N came on the range and saw Natasha practicing with some shield agents, she felt completely lost. Y/N could imagine what Natasha's reaction would be, but the broken brain and the heart hammering in her chest made her believe that she should keep to herself.
Of course, the secret didn’t last long. She couldn’t hide anything from Natasha, in fact, she’d never be able to hide what was happening even if she could. Bucky was even closer. He started to dedicate his spare time to her. Y/N thought it was strange, but Bucky never asked about Natasha's preferences and tastes. In fact, they spent their time together talking about her and Natasha's early friendship before the Avengers. Sometimes it was even possible to forget the reason the two became closer. But after a week, Natasha confronted Y/N. Slamming her hands on the table and pushing Y/N's book aside, Natasha stared at her with narrowed eyes.
“What the hell is happening? Are you two together? What are you hiding from me?”
Y/N swallowed hard, feeling her heart drop as she stared into her best friend's eyes. But as soon as she understood Natasha's questions, she frowned in utter confusion.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“C’mon, it’s me! You don’t have to lie to me.”
“But- Wait, is this about me and Bucky? We’re just friend-”
Natasha groaned, cutting her off. “Everyone is commenting on the fact that you two are glued to their hips!”
“What?”
“Don't “what” me. Am I your best friend or not, dude?”
Y/N nipped her lip, averting her eyes from her best friend's intense expression. This is it. Now was the moment that she’d have to confess the real reason Bucky had officialized their friendship, that her long crush was actually into her best friend. That she was utterly fucked up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at Y/N, folding her arms and waiting impatiently for an answer. The tension between them was palpable and Y/N, hanging her head low, whispered.
“Bucky asked for my help so he could ask you out.”
After a minute of silence, Y/N looked up confused by the lack of reaction. Only to watch Natasha burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.
“Fuck, that was a good one. For a moment I thought-”
Y/N's voice boomed. “I’m serious!”
Casting an accusatory glance toward Natasha, Y/N got up and disappeared into the hallways before Natasha could follow her. Over the next few weeks, Y/N did what she thought was best: avoid both Natasha and Bucky. But speaking the truth, after her fight with Natasha, her best friend made no effort to look for her either, staying by Clint's side. During the first days after the discussion, Bucky tried in all ways to approach Y/N, but after receiving several cold shoulders, he stopped trying and decided to just watch from afar. She felt like a fool, but at the same time, was completely confused and afraid to have a broken heart. Y/N realized that it wasn’t just a simple crush. She cursed herself, how could she fall in love when the situation was clear enough? Right in front of her fucking salad.
The compound was big, and over the years it became even bigger. But that didn’t stop the story from spreading faster than fire. Everyone was talking about the turmoil between the three greatest spies.
“Wait.” Y/N frowned, interrupting Tony's gossip. “What do you mean by three greatest spies?”
Tony looked at her as if she had grown a second head. “You really don’t know what's happening, do you?”
“What should I know?”
Tony gaped at her. “Dammit, wildcat! What have you been doing in the last two weeks and a half?”
“Honestly? I have no idea.”
As an excellent observer, Tony chuckled “You’ve been trying to avoid those two so hard that you closed yourself to the rest of the world.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but deep down she knew her friend was right. Slumping her shoulders, she sighed. “I'm an idiot, Tones.”
The thing is, Y/N was so determined to avoid everything, that she didn’t know of the fight during the last mission. More precisely, the fight between Clint and Bucky. And unlike the rumors, yes, Bucky didn’t accept very well all the gossip, but people who were there claim that Clint punched Bucky while howling something about him being a player.
“And if your little head is thinking that Clint was defending Natasha's honor. You're wrong.” Tony said smugly, a huge smile on his lips as he watched Y/N’s reaction closely.
“Oh?”
“It was because of you.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes. “What? But we're not even close!”
“So Natasha didn't tell you?”
And once again, after long weeks, Y/N was running toward the shooting range. With red ears and an annoyed look, she marched across the place until she was in the seating area. Clint was the first to notice her presence but not fast enough to stop Y/N from knocking Natasha down. No one knew how to react, watching in silence as Natasha pushed Y/N off, but only to throw a punch against her. They didn’t know why they were fighting, but with all the energy and lack of communication, the others had to step in.
“Enough!”
Clint's order fell into the void, Y/N struggled trying to get away from the other agents.
“You're a hypocrite, Romanoff!” Y/N roared with an accusatory glare.
“So that makes you a chicken!”
Natasha hissed back, but before things got worse, Clint's voice boomed. “I said enough!”
Ten minutes later, Y/N and Natasha were sitting on the avengers’ louge. Clint stared at them with his hands at his waist, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. He didn’t like to see the two best friends fighting over nothing.
“So?” realizing that neither of them would speak, Clint sighed exhausted “Look, Y/N, we’re not close friends but I like you. You're a good person. And that’s why I did what I did.”
“Thanks, but I know there's more than that.”
Natasha grunted displeased, running her hand through her hair before facing Y/N. “We’re together, I mean, Clint and I.”
Y/N scoffed. “Tell me something I haven’t found out through someone else.”
“I didn’t say anything before ‘cause we were just secretly fuck buddies.”
After a few minutes in silence, Y/N broke the tension with a burst of laughter, making Natasha and Clint exchange confused looks. But at the same speed as she began to laugh, in a heartbeat she was serious again and got up from the sofa.
“I can’t believe you said all that shit, when you were the one doing something behind my back!” Y/N hissed, pointing an accusatory finger towards Natasha.
“Well, what did yoy want? You were spending all your free time with him!” Natasha hissed right back, getting up as well but being stopped by Clint's hand on her shoulder.
Hearing the Natasha's words, Y/N’s angry expression quickly softened. “Wait, you're jealous?”
With a pinkish hue to her cheeks, Natasha scoffed. “No? No!”
“Yes, she’s totally jealous.”
Natasha glared at the archer. “Clint!”
“What? I’m tired of this fight.”
So, the power duo was back again. And Y/N started to explain in detail the day Bucky sought her out for help, the free time they spent together talking about everything and at the same time nothing. Clint and Natasha exchanged glances, everything making more sense. In the end, Y/N was completely oblivious and Bucky, and Winter Soldier was a damn coward.
Natasha and Clint decided that they wouldn’t say anything, for the time being, preferring to let Y/N vent and then get some dinner together. But after a few days, Natasha noticed that although things had returned to normal with Y/N, the idiot she calls best friend continued to ward off Bucky like a plague. A little uncertain, Natasha decided to talk with Steve for advice - the Captain was away for a long three months mission. But it didn’t take long to get a response from him, unfortunately, the message contained only two words: ask Sam.
Natasha sighed in defeat as Clint took the phone of her hands to read. Of course, Steve would push the problem (Bucky being stupid) to Sam, he was the best to solve this kind of bullshit (even if he didn’t like to admit it out loud).
Clint returned her phone, stole one of Natasha's toast and took a big bite before teasing his girlfriend. “You're o cute when you're worried.”
“Now isn’t the time to flirt and that’s my toast!”
Clint waved his hand dismissing Natasha. “Whatever, I'm already two steps ahead of you.”
Natasha scoffed. “How so?”
“I talked to Sam yesterday during our recon mission, we already have a plan.” the archer smiled smugly, stealing a sip of Natasha's coffee. “We locked Bucky and Y/N in the old lab on the east wing.”
“You WHAT?”
Y/N didn’t know how she ended up there. Sam invited her to see an old lab he had found that it could become hers, or so she thought. And to say that Sam Wilson could be 100% trustworthy. Now she's stuck in a room... With Bucky. A fucking cliché. And, maybe, a terrible nightmare. The two remained silent, avoiding eye contact and trying to dissociate from the awkwardness. They were embarrassed, but for completely different reasons. The words Sam said before leaving echoed in Y/N's head: If you wanna get out, better start talking. And it seemed that the more she thought about it the harder it seemed to be. Y/N nibbled at her bottom lip, sitting by the window, she could see Bucky's reflection sitting in one of the tables behind her. She wanted to tell everything to Bucky, but she didn’t have the guts. It had been 30 minutes, and Y/N could only imagine the worst scenarios.
She didn’t want to have her heart broken, no matter how much it hurt her to deal with what she felt for Bucky. Natasha was right, she was a chicken. But it wasn’t fair that her friends joined forces to put her in that situation.
“Y/N I need you to stop overthinking for a bit.”
Bucky's voice sounded so smooth, almost a whisper if it weren’t for the quiet room. Y/N looked up and turned slightly to glance at the tables, but instead, she found the super soldier standing closer, a shy smile on his lips.
Having the attention he wanted, Bucky sighed. “Hello.”
“H-hey, I'm sorry for-”
Y/N started nervously, wincing slightly for stammering, but Bucky quickly interrupted her. His voice softer, if that were possible. “That’s fine. Actually, huh, Tony warned me.”
She stared at him with big eyes, feeling her ears warm, she scoffed in disbelief. Sam and Tony were so dead. But none of that made sense. Why would her own friends do something like this? And warn Bucky about it but lie to her?
“You're overthinking again.”
“Why?” Bucky frowned, but Y/N didn’t wait for answers and pressed on. “Why did you agree to their plan?”
Bucky didn’t say anything immediately, deciding to kneel so he could look her better in the eyes. “Isn’t that obvious?”
She replied in a small voice. “No?”
He breathed out "cute" before moving closer and resting one hand on her knee. They were both so nervous, but now they couldn’t back down. Bucky could no longer ignore what he felt, not after knowing Y/N felt the same.
“I fell in love with you.”
She gasped at those words, her lips parted like she wanted to respond and finally gush everything she felt for Bucky. Y/N shook her head trying to form a coherent sentence, but she got distracted by Bucky's huge smile, eyes shining with adoration.
“I know.” Bucky whispered softly, taking Y/N’s face in his hands as if it was the most delicate flower. Then he inclined his head slightly so their lips were close enough that Y/N's warm breath mixed with his. “You can say it later, but I really want to kiss you now.”
Y/N felt as if her heart was going to explode, she nodded her head but quickly pressed her mouth to Bucky’s soft lips. It was better than she had dreamed. And she had dreamed way too many times about kissing Bucky.
The spell was suddenly broken when the door opened abruptly, slamming against the wall. She jumped slightly trying to pull away, but Bucky thought otherwise, deciding to wrap his arms around her waist in a half hug. And when they looked at the intruder, it was none other than Sam.
“That’s enough PDA for today, kids.”
Bucky groaned. “Fuck off.”
”No can do, the others are waiting.” Sam chidded, making no effort to hide his own smile. “Don't wanna be skinned alive by Romanoff, y'know.”
Sam headed toward the door, allowing Bucky to get up off the floor and bring Y/N with him. The two smiled secretly, she took initiative and held Bucky’s hand, wrapping their fingers together as if they've done it for years. Both smiling from ear to ear. Maybe they wanted to do it for so long that it just seemed natural. Bucky kisses her forehead tenderly, walking side by side as if there were no one else in the world. Y/N squeezed Bucky’s hand before finally saying the words with her heart on her sleeve.
“I love you too, in fact, I have for a long while.”
Bucky couldn’t stop smiling. “Yeah, I think I noticed.”
“Oh.”
“And sorry for coming with that terrible excuse. I kind of panicked.”
“What do you mean?”
Bucky stopped walking, turning on his heel so he could face her. “You're really oblivious, huh? I was going to ask yoy out that day.”
She frowned for a moment, but soon wrapped her arms around Bucky's neck, squeezing him. “I hope you take me on several dates and kiss me a lot.”
Bucky laughed at her teasing, noting her flushed face. “Everything you want, but with one condition.”
Y/N pulled away a little so she could look into Bucky's eyes. “Yeah?”
Bucky gave a peck on her lips before whispering. “Be my girlfriend.”
“Hey, lovebirds, can you leave it for later?”
The couple groaned, yet Sam remained unbothered. Maybe he was right and that was enough hot stuff for the curious eyes. But in the end, they didn't care. So, hand in hand, they entered the lounge. All smiles. Why? Well, they were stupidly in love.
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