#sorry again people that follow those tags. ily
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hehehe did u know you can draw anything at all <3 so i drew my two favorite characters. together LMAO love wins
#for context in +R anjis win quote against zappa is about exorcising his demons or whatever. those words#anji mito#akaza#yea <3 its going in the character tags. youre gonna have to just block me i think#ANYWAYS IM STILL BURSTING OUT LAUGHING WHEN I SEE THIS. SORRY LMAO ITS BRINGING ME A RIDICULOUS AMOUNT OF JOY#art#kny#guilty gear#sorry again people that follow those tags. ily#i hope this at least made u laugh LMAO#is it in character. who give a shit dude thats not the point#i can make arguments though. AnywayAfg dfvdfvb#i couldnt even write the description without laughing. anyway
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Paranoia | Stray Kids Extra Member AU
WARNINGS: 3rd person but switches to 1st person. Nicholas “communicates” with the reader. Depending on how well this is written, it might make you feel what he's feeling. There's angst, but I don't want to put too many warnings. Don't wanna spoil this extremely short drabble.
I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO READ!
Nicholas Ross Master List | Proceed with caution. I love you 💜
He couldn't name it. Granted, Nicholas didn't know much about feelings. He knew the basics. Happy, sad, mad, and fearful. Chan was the first person to help him feel safe. The most common feeling for him was numbness. But this?
This was different.
This feeling, emotion, whatever it's called, was unfamiliar. It was this nagging feeling, and he couldn't place it. He hadn't felt something this intense, ever. No, he did. Nicholas was overjoyed when he got to debut with his friends. But this?
This is on a different scale, a completely different hierarchy.
This feeling caused other emotions he never thought of. It made him name feelings he's already had. Feelings he could never put a label on but now could with his newly gained freedom. Nicholas isn't sure if he likes this freedom. Then again. Was it truthfully freedom?
Nicholas couldn't leave the dorm. Not without drastic security, and even then, he still needed at least two members with them. He was scared. What if something happened while he wasn't there? Fear.
Who was he kidding? What would he do if something did happen? He knows nothing. Nicholas is just a boy. Doubt.
Someone, or something, was watching him. All the time. Even at home. He could feel them staring at him. Their eyes pierced his skull, his back, and occasionally his face. Only when he dared to look back. The feeling never stopped. That feeling he couldn't place. It kept looking with inhumanly wide eyes. He could see it in the distance.
Nicholas can't tell the others. No, what if something happened to them? What if they began to see what he could see? The feeling with long hair, wide eyes, and a gaping mouth. A mouth forever stuck in a silent scream. It was there. He could see it.
It made him overanalyze. Maybe it's anxiety? An everlasting anxiety attack? No, it's not that. It doesn't like false names. It's closer. I can hear it's scream now. It's quiet, but what if it gets louder?
You don't believe him?
He thought he could trust you. It's why he told you. You saw his abuse. You felt for him. You saw him almost lose the battle to his insecurities. Granted, you only saw what was said and how his members fixed it. But you were there!
He can't tell other people. They'll send him to a therapist. A psychiatrist. They'll take him to someone who will give me pills. Everyone will force me to take those pills because it's for the better.
Why don't you believe me?
Why won't anyone believe me? It follows me, and I can't get away. I'm terrified. I'm intensely scared. There's a word for it. What is it? Tell me, please. Maybe if I call out its name, it will leave me alone.
It's eyes. They- It's here. It's watching me. It could be watching you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like this. I'll be quiet. Momma told me I scared people with this bullshit. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I won't do it again.
You will stay, right?
I'm still me. I'm Nicholas Ross! The boy- The man you imagine. The person broken by his parents is slowly being built together again. You're helping me, right?
You said you feel sad for me. You expressed my stories as comforting. I can tell you more. Just please don't leave me with it.
Don't leave me with paranoia.
Nicholas Ross Master List
©️DEANAMEANTAE2024
Tags list: @bada-lee-ily, @jinnie-ret, @hwxnghyynjin, @foxilsdenn, @rensahazard, @mynameisnotlaura, @lucianidealz, You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.
#deantae nicholas ross#skz 9th member#stray kids 9th member#skz x 9th member#stray kids extra member#stray kids with the 9th member#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x male reader#stray kids x male reader#skz imagines#9th member of skz#9th member of stray kids#stray kids angst
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don't let me tempt you / ch.1
pairing: angel!seokjin x angel!f.reader ⇢ au: Good Omens universe (none of the characters or the plot are mentioned so this fic can be read without knowing anything of Good Omens) ⇢ genre: forbidden romance, friends 2 lovers, comedy(?), fluff, eventual smut (not in this chapter) ⇢ summary: Seokjin is temporarily banished from Heaven and you're not all that good at paperwork. ⇢ chapter wc: 4.5k ⇢ rating: fic rating is explicit/18+ for eventual smut; chapter rating is 16 & up bc they're the equivalent of ken dolls rn, but minors please DNI anyway. This isn't for you. ⇢ chapter warnings: LOTS of religious imagery bc this is set in the Good Omens universe and there's gonna be a bunch of biblical references, but please remember that this isn't meant to be accurate. Author is an atheist. Author did next to no research on calendars that pre-date the Georgian one bc she is lazy and can't do maths. Swearing. If there's any tags you think I'm missing, please let me know - I'd hate to be the cause of any upset or discomfort <3 ⇢ a/n: thank u to my beloveds @the-boy-meets-evil and @ugh-yoongi for reading this over and thinking my babies are cute. thank u to my angel @effortandmore for your encouragement! Ur all cute too. Ily
1106 BC
Time in 1106 BC follows some kind of construct that the author has not deemed necessary to research, but if the Georgian calendar (or indeed days of the week) had been invented, the day our story begins would be in mid April, on a Tuesday, around 3pm.
The weather in Heaven is, as you would expect, perfect. The company is not.
“Sorry to bring you in here like this,” you say, as the thirteenth angel of the day takes a seat on the other side of your desk.
There’s a spiel to this. Angels have a tendency to lean towards the dramatic, so you’ve learned the ways of ‘softening the blow’, as the humans call it. Doling out God’s punishments wasn’t your preferred assignment, but it’s the role that was dropped in your lap after you quit the last - and you’re not in a position to refuse Her again. Here goes another.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but-”
“Let me guess,” the other angel interjects. “She’s demoting me?”
This is unusual. The angels know God’s wrath, but they’re usually surprised to find out when said wrath is directed toward them specifically. Not this one, he’s sitting there, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently, waiting for you to rip off the bandaid.
“Uhh. A temporary banishment actually.”
He stares at you. “It was only a little miracle.”
“Three very large miracles, I’ll have you know. We’re not supposed to be bringing people back from the dead anymore.”
“Since when?” he asks, rather like a petulant human toddler.
You frown. “Since protocol changed - didn’t you read the memo?” The angel shakes his head. “God’s decided to save those types of miracles for someone really special in-” You pause to check your watch “- a thousand years, give or take a century.”
“Special how?” The angel asks, sitting up a little straighter.
“You know we’re not told details of The Great Plan.” You flip the file shut. “Well, it seems like you know the issue at hand, and there’s little else to discuss-”
There’s a look of unease creeping over his assigned face that gives you pause. His fingertips drum on his knee. Too human for a heavenly body. “Are you alright?”
“She’s not- they’re not going to cut-”
“Oh! Goodness no,” you’re quick to reassure. “Oh no, you’d have to do something really awful for that, like, question her authority like Lucifer did.” His laugh comes out like a bark, and you’re confused because it wasn’t a joke. “No, but I am terribly sorry to say that you’re being sentenced to four-hundred years on Earth.”
He blinks twice. “Excuse me?”
“Four-hundred years - horrid, I know. But God does say the punishment must fit the deed-”
You’re interrupted again, this time by the kind of laughter that starts as disbelief and quickly has his shoulders shaking and tears rolling down his cheeks. Most unusual.
“You’re telling me I get to spend near half a century on Earth?”
“What do you mean ‘get to’?” The thought of even spending ten years in such a place sends shivers right through your wings. “You won’t be able to return to heaven at all during that time. No correspondence with anyone, unless of course we contact you first.” He’s positively glowing and you can’t understand it. “You’ll have to live amongst humans-”
He’s standing now, moving to the screen and zooming in on earth. “Can I pick where?”
You move to stand next to him. He’s zoomed in so far, you can’t quite tell where it’s supposed to be. In truth, you spend very little time looking over God’s preferred planet, choosing instead to focus on the vastness of the universe in all its glory. You prefer the stars and the galaxies and all of their colours.
“May I?”
“Sorry, I don’t understand.”
“Can I choose where to live? Will I have a role?”
There’s nothing like this in the training manual. No one ever has these questions. They’re too busy crying, wailing for another chance to stay in heaven, let alone look excited as this one does.
“I suppose you could,” you say slowly. “And no - there’s no role.” You wait for the penny to drop, but he doesn’t seem to get it. “Pointlessness is the point of this sentence.”
Wonder breaks out in his expression, and he turns back to the screen and zooms in on a peninsular you’ve never noticed before. “Can you drop me here?”
“Where’s here?”
“Gojoseon.”
“Why?”
“Good people.” His smile spreads wide. “Good food.”
You gasp. “You’ve consumed their provisions? You’ve eaten?”
He looks at you in shock. “You haven’t?”
Of course you flaming haven’t! Even if you could stomach it - how in heaven would you get the opportunity to dine on Earth, what with all the work piling up in your pigeonhole and the lack of angels rights to paid time off, not to mention a union?
Your expression must say it all because he laughs again and says, “Well then visit me sometime, I’ll cook for you.”
“You’re very peculiar.”
“Yes,” he says with a shrug. “I get that a lot.”
You move back over to the desk to complete the rest of the paperwork while he stands there, still looking at the map with a satisfied smile.
After a few moments, he says, “I’ll need a name if I’m to live with humans.”
You find his given name at the top of the page. Soterasiel.
“What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?”
He shrugs again. “Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue for everyone.”
“I hear John is rather popular these days,” you muse, still checking boxes. “And Abraham. Or what about Jos-”
“Seokjin.”
“Bless you.”
“No, I mean- Seokjin.” He moves to sit back down. You don’t quite like it, the way he walks, like he’s got a bravado he hasn’t done anything to earn - rather the opposite in fact, given his grievous error in judgement. “That’s my new name.”
“Oh-” You glance up at him. “It suits you.”
Seokjin beams. He’s quiet for the next few moments, but you can sense his eagerness as he watches your fingertip move down the page. When all the documents are signed, you show him over to the chute, and he peers into it.
“This is the one-way?”
You nod. “We’ll send someone to relieve you once your sentence is up.”
He steps inside without hesitation, and it’s almost too late. You've been itching with curiosity since you opened his file, so you blurt out exactly what you’re not supposed to ask.
“Why did you do it?”
Seokjin tilts his head, confused.
“Why did you bring those humans back from the dead?” you clarify.
His eyes soften. “They’re my favourites.”
There’s a pregnant pause as you regard him. You don’t understand. Favourites? Angels aren’t supposed to have favourites. Angels aren’t supposed to be anything like him. Maybe you haven’t met enough to speak on the matter.
“Come visit me, won’t you? I get the impression you’ll like it down there.”
And before you can scoff at the very idea of visiting a banished (albeit temporarily) angel on earth, the chute opens up below him and he’s gone.
It’s difficult to get back to work after all that. All day there are punishments to give out in God’s name, but thankfully they’re nothing as extreme as that one. You get through a few sanctions, several warnings filed, and a strongly worded letter to the Department of Animals to remind them to stop creating wasps (apparently earth has enough) and then (at what would usually be known as 6pm), like clockwork, Turiel enters your office.
He’s another one you can’t get a read on, but in an entirely different way. He came up the ranks quickly, and became your boss without the necessary qualifications within a single century. He’s kind of course, but he’s a Watcher, so naturally he watches everything. Being watched makes you uncomfortable.
“How is everything?”
“Wonderful, thank you.”
“What happened with the banishment this morning?”
“With Seok- Soterasiel? He took it rather well.” Turiel stares at you, and you clear your throat to fill the awkward quiet. “Seemed quite happy about it, actually.”
Turiel frowns. “That’s odd.”
“Yes, quite.”
“We should watch that one,” he says, already making his way out. “Oh- you remembered to strip his miracles, correct?”
Strip his- why in heaven would you do that? It seems horribly cruel enough just to leave them there, let alone take their ability to do anything worthwhile.
“Sorry?”
Turiel stops on the spot and turns, frown deepening further. “Tell me you saw the memo from Metatron? We’re to strip any and all banishments of their miracles going forward. Too many mishaps and too many angel turned demon that still have their powers.”
If you had any blood in your face it would surely drain. No, you haven’t seen any blasted memo. The pigeonhole is stuffed to burst and it’s something you’ve been meaning to work through, you truly have, but there’s so little time in the day and- and- heavens, he’s still staring at you. Tell him the truth. Tell him you didn’t take Seokjin’s miracles. They’d overlook one error, especially as it’s the first offence. Surely?
“No need to worry,” you hear yourself say, voice unnaturally high. “Of course I did.”
Turiel blinks, smiles with relief, and shuts the door behind him as he leaves.
For the first time in your existence, you’re tempted to curse.
879 BC
6:43pm. Patchy rain showers through til 8.
Seokjin’s home looks like nothing. A shack at best. It’s hardly worthy of the name home but you still need his sodding permission to cross the threshold, so you knock and wait, huddling as close to the door as possible to keep dry. As the rain pelts your back you bitterly wonder why angels have to wait at the threshold for permission to enter. It’s utterly beyond you, surely such a restraint could be reserved for those who are up to no good?
(You pointedly ignore the little voice saying that you are actually up to no good.)
“Oh my God,” Seokjin says when he opens the door (if it weren’t for the threshold force you’d keel over) and your nose wrinkles automatically at the blasphemy. “It’s you.”
“May I come in?” you say, too busy watching for Watchers in your peripherals to take in the sight of the angel in front of you. It would be terrible to be caught now, after the web of lies you weaved in order to get an hour off work.
“Why?” he asks, suspicion lacing his voice. “You’re not bringing me back early are you?”
“Oh heavens no,” you say, starting to feel a little desperate, pushing the wet hair from your eyes. “I forgot something in your documents, a quick signature and I’ll be off in a jiffy.”
“You forgot something?”
“Yes-”
“And you decided two hundred and twenty-seven years later was the right time to fix that?”
“Time slips away when you’re working!”
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Your lot really need to unionise.”
“Shh!” you hiss. “Let me in, please?”
“Alright, alright,” he says, stepping aside. “Come on in. Take your shoes off at the door.”
“I don’t have shoes,” you say as you push past him. A little miracle as soon as you’re out of the rain has you dry and warm again. What a pity, you think, that Seokjin will have to live without these little perks for the rest of his banishment. The sympathy you feel for him catches you unawares. “What are shoes?”
Seokjin smiles. “Thought you were a watcher?”
Part Cherubim part Virtue actually, but you won’t be telling Seokjin that. That’s between you and God. You bustle past him inside the shack and you can finally relax. All protocols are being broken right now, but with the teeny tiny miracle that you performed earlier, only you and Seokjin will know about this clandestine meeting.
Seokjin’s home is much nicer on the inside. Rather homely. And clean. And it smells good. What is that smell?
“I just made some tea, would you like a cup?”
Drinking? Apparently you can’t hide your expression because Seokjin's responding smile is mirthful. “Haven’t changed much, have you?”
“I suppose not, no.”
There’s no time to dilly dally like this. If you’re not back in the office soon, there’ll be questions you won’t know how to answer without twisting the truth. An angel can’t be going around telling lies. It’s uncouth.
Seokjin busies himself at the table while you unroll the documents. The scroll is horribly long, but eventually you find the line you missed all those years ago. You cough to get his attention, and he looks up and takes the scroll from your outstretched hand.
But then he starts to read. Oh goodness gracious. You hadn’t expected that. He seemed the sort that wouldn’t get hung up on the details, that would trust an angel (one like yourself in particular) implicitly. It’s offensive, actually, that he doesn’t trust that you’re not trying to pull the wool over his eyes, even though that might be exactly what you were trying to do. Are you not trustworthy? Are you not angelic?
Seokjin frowns. Uh oh.
“You’re taking my miracles?”
“Uh-”
“Why?”
“Well- uh. It’s protocol, you see.”
Seokjin stares. The silence is palpable.
“You fucked up.”
You gasp. “Don’t curse!”
“You did!” he says, eyes wild. “You fucked up when you sent me down here!”
There’s heat creeping up your neck.
“It really doesn’t need to be such a big to-do,” you splutter. “Just sign the form, and I’ll be on my way and then you’ll be back in Heaven in no time at all!”
“But I won’t have my miracles?”
“You’ll get them back on your return!”
“What if I need them?”
“You won’t.”
“I’ve needed them a lot, actually,” Seokjin insists. “You’ve no idea how many sticky situations I’ve been in thanks to all the creatures our Heavenly Mother made!”
“Oh!” you exclaim. “Have you seen a tiger yet? Those are my favourite.”
Seokjin looks like he might slap you.
The door opens.
“Seokjinie-hyung! We’re back!”
We? Who’s we?
We are three men, one short, one tall, and one somewhere in the middle.
The room is very suddenly too small and too quiet as all of you stare at each other.
The small one’s eyes, wide and curious, dart between you and Seokjin.
“Who’s this, Seokjin hyung?”
“Uh-” you say.
“Uhh-” says Seokjin.
You can’t think of a human name. Not a single, blasted one comes to mind. Of course, humans know angels exist, but you can’t go around telling everyone who you are when you’re not exactly here on official business. Their mouths blabber too much. Word on Earth gets around faster than in Heaven.
“This is-”
“Oh my God-” the somewhere-in-the-middle one exclaims, while you grimace. “You’re that angel hyung told us about!”
You turn to glare at Seokjin, who is all of sudden very interested in the wood grain on the table. His ears are strawberry red. Strawberries were one of your ideas, you’d know that colour anywhere.
“You told them?” you say, incredulously. “What were you thinking?”
Seokjin sighs. “They’re not going to say anything.”
“Yeah!” the small one says. “Don’t worry, we’ve kept Seokijn hyung’s secret for two cent-”
He’s cut off by a loud cough from the tall one, but you’re not stupid. Humans aren’t supposed to be alive that long anymore, not since The Great Flood when God finally got sick of Noah and his bothersome family - that was one of the few memos you read.
“Seokjin-” you say slowly. He’s pointedly looking everywhere else but your face. “Are these the same humans you told me about during our first meeting?”
The small one grins. “Oh hyung, I knew you loved us more than you let on.”
Two centuries they’ve been alive - at least. Oh Goodness. You need to report it, but how could you without telling them you didn’t do your job properly.
“You don’t need to say anything to Heaven,” Seokjin says. “What they don’t know doesn’t hurt them.”
“The protocol-” you start, but you’re cut off by a groan.
“Fuck the protocol! Don’t you want to think for yourself for once? Didn’t She give us free will for a reason?”
“She gave them free will, not us!” you reason. “We’re to do as we’re told!”
“Why? What for?”
“The Great Plan!”
“The Great Plan-” he parrots in the most condescending tone. “-is supposed to be ineffable. If we knew what was in it, we wouldn’t have a choice. If I didn’t have free will, I wouldn’t have been able to turn them into vampires.”
You frown, confused. Vampires weren’t in the handbook, but then you never could keep up. “What’s a vampire?”
Seokjin swallows thickly. “Uh. Nevermind that. The point is, if this wasn’t in The Great Plan, if it wasn’t written, would I have even been able to do it?”
The thought gives you pause. He’s got a point, actually. The Archangels talk often of fate and destiny and what She wrote. No one knows the plan, of course, and it can change at Her will, but the whole point of this charade is that you’re all to trust in God’s Plan, regardless of what happens.
There’s a long moment of silence. The three men- or rather, vampires- are still just standing there watching the two of you argue.
The small one finally breaks the tension and introduces himself. “I’m Jimin,” he says.
You nod, and give your name. He repeats it, butchering the pronunciation, but of course you expected that. Humans have never quite managed to get their tongue around it. You muse for a moment if you should give yourself a more human name, like Seokjin, but your thoughts are interrupted by the large one.
“I’m Namjoon,” he says, and points to the last one, who gives a tentative wave. “This is Taehyung.”
You nod again, and start to feel a little ridiculous.
Okay, so the plan needs to be adjusted. You can’t take away Seokjin’s miracles without getting him to undo whatever he did to the human-vampires.
“How long have you all been alive?”
Namjoon glances at Seokjin, who nods. “Around three hundred years.”
“Okay,” you say. “And do you plan on dying any time soon?”
The three of them stare at you. “It’s not something we’d considered, no,” whispers Jimin.
“Right,” you say, and then turn to Seokjin. “You need to fix this, make them human again. I’ve got to go, they’ll be looking for me, but I’ll be back soon to check in on you so you’d better have done it by then.”
Seokjin’s Adam's apple bobs in his throat. It’s… somewhat pleasant to look at.
“Pleasure to meet you everyone,” you say tightly to Seokjin’s friends. “Enjoy the rest of your lives.”
You catch their confused expressions shift into something horrified before you appear back at your desk in Heaven. It leaves you befuddled. That was a perfectly pleasant first interaction with humans that are aware of your celestial-ness - you’re not quite sure what they could be so bothered about.
827 BC
Early Autumn. 8:12am. Current Earthly conditions: foggy
It’s another fifty years or so before you can catch a break long enough to get back down to Earth. The shack has improved drastically - quite the pleasant looking home in fact. There’s flower boxes on the windowsills that are covered in a light morning dew, but the plants seem hardy. Purples and yellows. Dainty looking little things. You wonder what they might be.
The door opens as you bend to smell them, and you look up to find the angel wrapped up in the largest item of clothing you’ve ever seen for something that just seems to be used for a neck. It’s ever so bright. Mismatched colours and patterns that don’t seem to line up. One end of it drags along the floor. Seokjin doesn’t appear too pleased to see you.
“What are you wearing?” you ask, amused.
“Taehyung made me a scarf.”
“It’s very big.”
Seokjin glares.
“Did you really come to ruin my life so early in the morning?”
You roll your eyes. “You’re immortal. I hardly doubt this little blip will destroy you. More like God would if you don’t pull it together.”
“I could say the same about you.”
He’s got you there. But as you hold his gaze something in the air shifts, and he reluctantly lets you in. This time you take his offer of a cup of tea. You take a tentative sip, and it warms your belly in such an unexpected way. The weight of the cup is heavy in your hand, and the warmth of it seeps into your palm. It’s rather nice.
You sit at the same table he had fifty-something years ago. There’s a few more marks in the woodwork by now.
“Shall we get it over with then?” he says. “Where do I need to sign?”
You stop his hastiness with a gentle touch to his arm. He stares at your hand.
“Did you get everything in order first?” you ask.
Seokjin coughs. “Yes, of course.”
His ears are strawberry red again. The colour really is pretty, you’re glad you chose it. You’re glad you see it in other things, even if they are the tips of this angel’s ears.
“They’re dead?”
“Not yet,” he says, lips twisting bitterly around the words. “They’re living out the rest of their lives. You might get a chance to see them, if you stay awhile. They said they’d be popping by later.”
“Oh,” you say, surprised. “Well, I suppose that’s something. You know, I am really sorry about that. I thought about it after my last visit, and I think I understand now why you’d want to keep your friends around for longer.”
“Feeling lonely up there?” he asks, voice gentler than usual.
“No!” You snort with (only slightly put on) derision. “Of course not. Too busy for such a thing as loneliness.”
He chuckles. “Maybe I wasn’t busy enough then.”
You ignore what feels like a thimbleful of sadness dropping into your stomach.
Seokjin does most of the talking while you drink your tea. He talks about what he does down here - cooking mostly, but also a little pottery. He’s been training under a man called Yoongi. Says he made the cups you’re holding, and you inspect them. They’re quite ugly, thick and uneven- and you’re about to say as such, but Seokjin looks proud, so you smile and tell him he did very well, and that you like the colour of the clay. You wish you could bottle the way he beams.
All too soon the tea is finished, and Seokjin signs the document. It’s done. His eyes still shine, if a little less bright now.
“What now?” he asks.
You suck in a breath. “Your miracles are in trust until your return to Heaven. Until then you can live as a human. More or less.”
His eyes snap up. “I’m still immortal, right?”
“Oh of course,” you say with a laugh. “You think they’d go through all this trouble just to risk you being eaten by a giraffe?”
“Do you know anything about Earth?” Seokjin says it like you’re an idiot. “At all?”
You’re tempted to roll your eyes. “I know plenty-”
“Name one thing,” he interrupts, crossing his arms and looking at you with an almost amused expression.
You draw your shoulders back. You’ll give him three. “It weighs five point nine-seven septillion kilograms.”
Seokjin blinks three times fast. You must’ve caught him off guard with your knowledge. Good.
“It’s made up of thirty-two point one percent iron, fifteen point one percent silic-”
“Alright,” Seokjin says, lips twisting into a small smile. “I get it. You don’t need to prove yourself.”
You grin, ever so pleased with yourself, and Seokjin laughs.
“You’re cute.”
“What?”
“Cute,” he repeats. “It’s a compliment.”
“Oh,” you say, wondering why reciting facts from the Earth’s handbook would warrant a compliment on your character. “Okay…” You look down at your mug and see it’s empty and you’re struck with a surprising pang of disappointment. The tea was really rather good, it’s something of a pity as you realise you won’t be able to make it the same back in Heaven.
“Well, I’d better get going. Paperwork to do. Miracles to take.”
“Of course,” says Seokjin, and stands to see you off. “If you visit again will you let me know in advance?”
“Why?”
“I’ll make dinner.”
You smile without thinking. “I don’t eat, Seokjin.”
“You know,” he says, in a very matter of fact tone. “Despite the fact that every time we meet you’re taking away something of mine, I’m growing quite fond of our meetings.”
You blink.
His eyes are so big and gentle and- “Let me know- okay?” he says with earnest.
“Okay,” you promise, already wondering when you could possibly get away long enough to watch Seokjin eat dinner.
“Would you like to take some flowers with you?” he asks suddenly. “I saw you smelling them.”
“Oh! Ye-” you start, and then you think better of it. So you plaster on a smile and say “No, that’s quite alright, I can whip some of my own up in no time at all.”
Seokjin nods. He looks like he’s going to say something else, but time is getting on and you’re not used to these odd goodbye rituals the humans (and this angel in particular) seem so fond of, so with a flash of a smile you’re back in Heaven. Seokjin and his lovely brown eyes remain on Earth.
Your office looks so bland in comparison to Seokjin's home.
It takes a second to notice that the cup he gave you is still in your hand, remnants of the sweet tea drying on the bottom. You briefly consider going back down, just to hand it over and say goodbye properly, but in walks Turiel to squash any ideas you have about leaving your post again.
“Great, you’re finally back,” he says, dumping a stack of files on your desk. “We’re swamped.”
“What happened?” you exclaim. You’re barely able to see him over the pile.
“Some bright spark in Organisms made a new virus. Let it loose in Greece without proper authorisation, killed half of them,” he says with a frustrated sigh. “The higher ups are fretting because one of the dead ones was supposed to be a prophet.”
Oh dear.
Turiel leaves without display. No time for pleasantries like offerings of tea and flowers up here. You sigh, dejected.
Being around Seokjin makes you wistful for things you didn’t know you wanted. You set the mug on your desk, turning it to and fro so you get a view of the prettier side- and with the smallest of miracles, there grows delicate flowers, in purple and yellow.
#bts fic#bts fanfction#seokjin x you#seokjin fanfic#seokjin x reader#bts fanfic#bts seokjin#seokjin fluff#jin x you#jin x reader#thank u for reading#fic: don't let me tempt you#ksj x reader#ksj fic#ksj fluff#bee writes
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SNART SNART SNART ILY IM ALSO VERY AWARE OF ME NOT REPLYING ON DISCORD AND I WAIL ABOUT IT EVERY TIME IM ABOUT TO FALL ASLEEP im smooching u as an apology 3': miss u<3
List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers! - @alienaiver ✨
AW NOHR ITS OKAY 💕 I saw a while ago you mentioned you aren’t really on discord much, and I’ve been busy in my own little world lately and haven’t been on here much to say hi myself. 😔💕 Don’t worry about it mwah!
(@alienaiver — just tagging you so you can see this!)
Hhmmm 5 things that make me happy right now are:
1. My brother and my sister in law are visiting! I usually see them once a year, since they live in another part of the country, and that time for 2024 has come. My mom has also made some incredible baked goods for their visit, which I am also enjoying LMAO. Last night my brother, who has a fancy business boy job but is also in a couple bands, one of his friends who is also in those bands, and a family friend who is a folk musician played music together. It’s been lovely so far!
2. Makin’ stuff! I got some new brushes and textures to use in Procreate, and I’ve been having a lot of fun experimenting with them. I’ve also been working on the Dimension 20 Zine Jam again this July, and it’ll be coming out soon in early August! And in between all this, I’ve been making little sketches for AU ideas with friends. I was in a funk for a while, and everything I was making felt like torture. But I’m getting back into the swing of things! Here’s one of the things I drew last night. :3
3. Speaking of D20: I finished The Unsleeping City’s second season! If anyone is unfamiliar, it’s a D&D actual play on Dropout (and some seasons are free on YouTube!) TUC is about a magical, dream-fueled secret borough of New York City and the people who can see and interact with it. I think it’s my favourite D20 series. The first season (which is up on YouTube) had some elements I didn’t love, there was some Iron Fist stuff in there. But the second season rectifies some of that, which I appreciated. Really hoping they bring the second season to YouTube, too. Both seasons have some truly incredible improv in them. Lou and Brennan going at each other as a divorced couple, Brennan’s “You know that kindness is incredibly real. And the realness of that kindness makes it hurt even more that these people are not going to lie down in bed with you to keep you warm at night for the rest of your life.” KILLS MEEEE. It’s also so stupidly funny. In season 2 they get shrunk down so they can go to a monastery inside a hot dog cart that’s run by cockroach monks. They have to fight an army of centurion ants with ballista mustard and ketchup bottles. The absurd creativity of the seasons is so good, and being helmed by Brennan Lee Mulligan who was born and raised in NYC, it does make the place sound and feel magical.
4. Just good ol art in general! For one of the zines I worked on for the jam, I was looking into a bunch of different artists for inspiration. Here’s a little list of some of the artists I looked into: David Blackwood, Mary Pratt, Alex Coleville, Bo Bartlett, Edward Hopper, Maude Lewis, and Wayne Theibaud! Some of their works:
(Edward Hopper, Soir Bleu, 1914 / Mary Pratt, Cod Fillets on Tin Foil, 1974 / David Blackwood, Kean's Men Waiting for the S.S. Bellaventure, 1968 / Wayne Theibaud, Boston Cremes, 1962)
5. Dessert! I’m circling back around to my first point lmao, but my mom made a peanut butter cream cheese pie with Oreo crust… it’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. I love sweet treats and if you’re a fellow sweet treat enjoyer, go get yourself a sweet treat right now. I’m gonna go get a slice of that pie now myself, I think.
Thank you for the lovely ask Nohr! 💕 Sorry it took me a while to answer it 🙇 I hope you’re doing well! 💖
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PREV: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? 𖧧 #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS 𖧧 NEXT: #006 COMFORT IN FAMILIARITY ꒰ series masterlist ꒱
꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — the closer you get to itoshi sae, the closer you are to the part of it all that you’d rather skip: your mother, your problems, your baggage.
content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. tw: reader’s mom—calls her a whore. profanity, verbal abuse, switching povs, jealousy, unrequited love, making out. word count: 9.6k
༝༚༝༚ sorry for the absurdly long wait !!! as you know i was sick and out of it for the past week so this chapter was difficult to get out :( but anw it's here :) gimme a while more for those of you who asked for extras hehe but i hope you guys enjoy this for now !! mwah ily
“who? that guy that you’re always reported with?”
bianca sighs, her bad mood more than obvious to her manager, who’s been with her for three years now. considering she’s been there since her career started, bianca’s not surprised she can tell her moods from just a single look.
“yeah, he’s been… cold lately.”
at least, bianca seems to think so. sae hasn’t been this cold to her since they first got close. she’s biting on her lips, staring at their message thread, her messages going unresponded for a while now.
“bianca, you like him, right?”
her manager’s question goes unresponded, bianca’s lips tightly sealed. but that’s enough of an answer for her.
“why don’t you just tell him? who knows he might like you too? you two spend a lot of time together for two busy people.”
the words give her hope, but it’s not very many. bianca had hoped that after at least a year and more of getting to know each other that maybe sae would start to feel something, anything. it doesn’t look like it. he’s never once initiated hanging out with her, and no matter how many times she’s bugged him for something as simple as, for example, wearing his jerseys, he wouldn’t even budge.
what if people misunderstand, his lousy excuse. isn’t that just another way to say he doesn’t even want it?
“are you sure he’s not just busy?” her manager asks again upon her silence.
sure, that is the logical train of thought. sae’s one of the best midfielders the world has ever seen. not even counting that, he’s beautiful—a face and body that many brands would want to invest in, want help to sell their brand with. it’s entirely plausible that he has a packed schedule, and bianca would think that, if not for the fact that he’s been acting weird lately.
sae always plans his sleep—that’s why he refused her invitation to meet with her friends that night, isn’t it? he was tired and wanted to sleep, but he showed up the next day looking exhausted, more than bianca’s ever seen. apart from that, he even followed that mystery girl from that night; bianca recognises you from your profile picture.
who are you, exactly?
bianca finds herself scrolling through your profile—she already has your username memorised somehow. you don’t post much, and you don’t really post anything with anybody, just things like scenery from work travels and activities like baking, and you’re not tagged in much either, except for this one girl named sumi. still, all she’s able to gather from you is your name and that you work at a sports magazine.
is that all you want from sae? interviews and favours?
it better be.
“anyway,” bianca’s manager sighs as she prepares to go home for the day, having settled everything else regarding bianca’s schedule. “you have the whole week free after tomorrow, you should go to japan and surprise him if you want. maybe take some of that anxiety off,” she suggests, noting that bianca’s face will be perpetually pouting if she doesn’t get to the root of her questions.
on the couch, bianca sits up, the idea registering in her head, grinning from ear to ear. “you’re right,” she agrees, immediately making arrangements to fly to tokyo. “i’ll do just that.”
she’ll go to tokyo, she’ll talk to sae and try to wring it out of him. if it really is nothing, then great, but bianca’s already planning her next course of action if it isn’t.
bianca doesn’t know who you are just yet, but one thing she wants you to get clear in your head: sae is hers and hers alone.
maybe not now, but one day she’ll make it happen. and until then, she doesn’t want anyone to cut in.
you blink and stare in shock as you see the heart on your screen. it must be accidental. has to be. sae doesn’t look like the type to send hearts. you shake it off, bringing yourself back down to earth.
it’s the next day after your drinking session with otoya and the others. your mind’s pretty hazy; you don’t really remember much especially on the later half of the night—you only remember taking a leap of faith and dragging sae into seven minutes of heaven with you. you’re sure you did nothing at all, except talk, but even what you talked about is pretty foggy. what you do remember is that he said he isn’t involved with anyone. you smile just thinking of it.
maybe it’s stupid, possibly falling head over heels for someone like sae who has many more admirers than you can imagine, but you can’t stop yourself from seeing the signs that he’s sending you.
just his texts are proof alone—you know he’s not someone who wastes his time on people he doesn’t see in his future. and you want to think that he’s not treating you like this over something as simple as pure friendship. but you don’t want to get your hopes up. you don’t think you’ll actually believe it until he tells you himself.
after all, there’s still the whole thing with bianca. even if he says he’s not involved with anyone, with the way all the other guys talk about her and sae, you can’t help but feel there’s something more there. but maybe that’s not something you have to concern yourself with for now.
yeah, because right now, there’s an even bigger monster that stands on the other side of your door, pounding on it like the world will end if you don’t answer her. her shrill voice is enough to give you headaches that could last a year, and her demands—even worse.
“i swear to god, y/n, if you don’t open this damn door before they get here i’m gonna kill you myself!”
four minutes now that you’ve been ignoring her. she hasn’t stopped to take a breath. it must be really urgent. she must’ve screwed up really bad. again. you’re pretty tired of it. you wish you’d given up on her already. sometimes.
there’s a stack of cash in your hands that you’re fiddling with. your hard-earned money. yours to supposedly spend as you please. supposedly. but what’s yours hasn’t been completely yours for a while now.
begrudgingly, you yank the door open, your eyes just short of a speck of anger—your mother’s wide eyes are much worse, not a speck of affection for her own daughter. you wonder why your own flesh and blood looks at you like that. you remember how kind sae’s eyes are; why can someone like him look at you like that while your own mother looks like… this?
“here. payment for this month, like i said,” you huff, nearly earning yourself a slap across the face again, except your mother’s holding it in. probably for a more appropriate time.
“not enough. need a bit more.”
you squint your eyes at her in disbelief. “you borrowed even more? we can barely afford—”
“then make yourself of use like your father was!” she cuts in, the disdain in her voice clear, like the day used to be. “really, all you need to do is not be a bitch by talking back and you can’t even do that. i should’ve aborted you when i got the chance.”
she spits those words out as if there was never a day that she loved you. she says them as if she was forced to have you. she storms off as if she has any right to demand you for anything.
you shouldn’t be abiding by them, but you can’t help it. the old picture of you and your parents when you were ten sits sourly at the edge of your study table, their once perfect smiles all smeared by recent memories, fading away as if they were just a fever dream.
“mom and dad will always love you, okay?”
is it a crime to want that loving woman back?
eita would be a good person to talk to about all this, given he knows a fair amount, but he doesn’t know how truly bad your mother’s gotten, and you’re not sure you want him to. you’ve burdened him enough, making him constantly worry about you even when he’s busy, and you’re not sure how much of it you can take from him without starting to feel guilty all over again.
and a part of you wants to warn sae that if he doesn’t want anything bad staining his reputation that he should stay away from you. but there’s the dominant part of you that wants to pursue what you want, without guilt or having to think about others, that wants to give yourself a chance at what makes you happy.
your mother has a tendency of taking them all away though. it wouldn’t be the first time.
for the first time, you find yourself wanting to count on someone other than eita, and for entirely different reasons. you’re texting the person who makes your heart beat faster without a second thought.
your fingers hover hesitantly over the send button. your mind plays the memories with shiro all over again. he used to give you the same feelings sae did. he used to make you think he was all green flags and clear skies and it’s eerily similar to what you feel now.
can you really trust yourself with this?
clumsily, your thumb deletes everything, putting in its place a lame excuse—i’m just feeling the monday blues kicking in early, save me.
maybe one day you’ll trust him enough to tell him about it. yeah, one day.
“why haven’t you told him yet?” eita asks you the next day, when you’ve given up holding strong in your house and decided to defect to his.
you’re out on his balcony, leaning against the back of the chair, enjoying the rare chilly weather of the afternoon. eita’s beside you, barely awake because he always sleeps in and today you just so happened to intrude on some of that time.
sae, for the most part, entertains you whenever he’s free, even now he’s still replying you. but no matter how good your life gets, you can’t get the ick of staying with someone who doesn’t really love you away. hence why you’re here, seeking escape once again. albeit in a different way than you used to.
although, with all the questioning you’re receiving, you think maybe you should’ve just toughed it out. still, you should’ve expected this topic to come up sooner or later. it’s not unreasonable for eita to get worried when you seem to be seeking him out more than usual anyway.
you sigh, it’s a headache that you’re too used to blocking out that when eita asks you about it you’re not too ready to answer him. “and say what? ‘hey, by the way, my mother’s a perpetual gambling addict who will ruin your entire reputation if word gets out at all’? no thank you.”
there’s a small pause when eita thinks your words through.
“what, you didn’t think of the same thing when hanging out with me?”
you look pointedly at him, arms crossed, wind swirling through your hair. “that’s different, we’re best friends, eita.”
eita chuckles, stretching his hand out and laying his head against it on the wooden table, staring at you. “what’s this now? so you got a crush on sae, huh?”
fuck. you curse at yourself internally when you realise what you’d just confessed to.
“didn’t know you two were even talking,” eita mumbles, maybe to himself with how soft he is right now. “guess it makes sense. that guy wouldn’t have taken care of you the whole night if there wasn’t something going on.”
you mirror eita���s position, looking back at him. “don’t tell me too much, but… is he like this with bianca too?”
yeah, you hate yourself for asking about that to someone who’s not sae, but you want to know what eita thinks. because unlike oliver and the others, you trust eita.
there’s a look that he gives you that you’re not too sure what to make of. it’s gentle, and a little unlike him that you might confuse him for actually being half-asleep and caught in his dreams. but he shrugs, looking away, “i mean, there’s a difference in the way he takes care of you two. if you ask me, if bianca asked him to stay he probably wouldn’t. if it came from you, i think he would.”
eita wants to do the opposite, lie a little and maybe turn you away from his friend. but it’s you. it’s someone he could never lie to. not anymore. and he’d rather stay your best friend than get blacklisted for lying to you.
he sees you heaving a sigh of relief.
“you really like him, huh?” he meant to say that in his head, but the words just roll off his tongue.
there’s a lot of other things you’d usually say to distract him and force a change in subject, but given how much you’re already keeping from him about how bad your mother’s really gotten, you feel like you owe him some form of transparency somewhere, as thanks for keeping you sane most of the time.
“yeah, i think so,” you say, the only hesitation in your voice coming from the fact that you’re not sure if you should be telling eita about this.
for his part, he isn’t falling apart. maybe because all along he knew somewhat that this day would come and that he still wouldn’t be ready, still wouldn’t be able to say he wants one person and one person only. but you’re already there. you’ve always been.
“first time you feeling this way?”
“eita, let’s not go there.”
“why not?”
you stop the conversation from going too quickly, regaining the balance. “so… it was true, then?” there’s a reason you say it in past tense. you hope it’s not still true, from a selfish perspective.
eita’s forced laughter is enough of an answer. he still graces you with an answer. “it still is, i guess.”
for the first time ever, the both of you are addressing this. a few years too late, admittedly, but considering you’re two people who hate being straight with each other about these things, it’s progress.
you remember the day the signs got too real to ignore. it was the day you ran. it was the day eita denied everything because he didn’t want you to but still lost you.
A FEW YEARS BACK
“yeah? you’re not gonna even tell me that things between us are off?” he spat, the frustration seeping through his voice, disdain on every syllable.
eita never used that tone of voice on you until that moment.
it was raining again. just like that night he first kissed you. you thought it would forever mean nothing, you thought it would be something comfortable—for the both of you. something with nothing attached.
“answer me, then. you really gonna date that fucker shiro of all people?”
eita was young, and his fame was steadily rising. he had multiple people throwing themselves at him, wanting anything he could offer and yet everything he was offering to you, you threw away.
not that you necessarily knew what was going on in eita’s head, but given how you were acting, you might have an idea. that was why, right? that was why you were pulling away.
there’s thunder, and dozens of cars passing by, rainwater covering the both of you from head to toe because eita saw you for the first time in weeks and he just couldn’t wait to talk to you any longer. you had been avoiding him for so long now, were you even friends anymore?
your normal cheerful expression was clouded over, your glare more than enough warning that he shouldn’t be doing all of this but eita wasn’t going to stop no matter what. not until he got everything out. he was going to wait until you responded to him because you were apparently so fucking good at avoiding people.
“and how is that any of your business?”
eita barely recognised the person talking to him. since when did you learn to hate him that much?
“oh, i’m sorry, i must’ve missed the fucking memo that we weren’t talking or fucking anymore,” eita spat, the sarcasm dripping off his tongue something he used to use on everyone but you. not now, though. he was too angry for that.
you scoffed, walking one, two steps forward, both of you just an arm’s length apart. “then hear this, eita: we’re not fuck buddies anymore, and i have a boyfriend, so just stay away, okay?”
there were multiple voices in his head screaming not to say what he wanted to say at that moment, screaming at him that he would regret it, but he didn’t listen. his eyes wide, a sneer on his face; he was determined to look more vindictive than you were right then. “oh wow, y/n, didn’t know you were such a slut like your mom, giving it to whoever has more moneybags,” he mocked, more than aware of the hurt in your eyes but his temper was bad, and he couldn’t stop himself. “you know what? maybe you deserve all this shit, then, since you’re the same.”
the slap you gave him that day was the second hardest you’d given him in your life, maybe because a part of you was too distraught hearing those words from him that you weren’t in your best condition. that, and maybe the rain. but you ran away crying, as much as you tried to hide it. but eita had been in this position before, had seen what you looked like while running in the rain with tears in your eyes though you tried to mask them as the rainwater. you never liked to cry in front of him, and you never did.
and then, he was the reason you cried. the one person who you thought would never do that.
that night, as you ran straight into your boyfriend’s arms, you thought maybe you deserved it for not being able to deal with other people’s feelings properly. it wasn’t eita’s fault for having emotions, and it most certainly wasn’t his fault that he didn’t want to tell you about it. but you could feel it.
you felt it in the way he tried to hold your hand while walking alone. you felt it in the way he tried to hug you to sleep after he fucked you senseless. you felt it in the way he wasn’t seeing anyone else anymore. it wasn’t that you didn’t care about him, but with everything that was going on, emotions aren’t such a simple thing that you could handle, after all. especially if you didn’t feel the same way.
it was supposed to be a pair of best friends, using each other, nothing more and nothing less and you couldn’t take the heat when you felt eita wanting more. maybe you should’ve done it differently. maybe. and it was funny that you could tell how he felt about you yet at the moment, you couldn’t tell if he meant what he said.
and maybe if you knew better, you would've asked. no, if you knew better, you would've talked to him about it.
but it was all too late.
PRESENT
“oi, snap out of it.”
eita’s normal snappy voice brings you back to where you are, in his balcony sitting and supposedly enjoying the view, because when you’re high up here it almost looks like you have no troubles in life—at least, not the ones you have.
“look, i’m not gonna ask you to ignore what i just said,” eita says, sighing before he looks you straight in the eyes, his green irises much warmer than they used to be. “but can i ask you a favour?”
it takes you a while to respond, only because you can’t tell what he wants from you. your mouth opens slowly and carefully, “what?”
eita scoffs, and this time it’s not in disgust and you can tell. you can tell his mannerisms a lot better now. maybe because you’re both adults, and more transparent. maybe because you both had already lost each other once and know what that felt like, and maybe you both don’t want it to happen ever again. you don’t really know about him, but to you, no one can replace him in your life. his presence is too significant for that.
“stop looking at me like i’m a lost puppy.” he’s scowling now, downturned lips softening just a little, into a pout.
you snort, containing your laughter. perhaps you’d been thinking a little too much about it that you’re starting to look at him with pity. “yeah, okay.”
“that isn’t the favour.”
“then what is?”
he carries a straight face as he talks to you now, his fingers coming up to flick you softly on the forehead. he’s always felt like family to you. sometimes you wish he was. and for his end, he looks at you, knowing that the emotions he has will forever go unreciprocated, and yet he can’t stop being dumb by trying anyway. he knows, already, just by looking at the difference in the way you treat sae, in the way you look at him. you’re so smitten, and if eita even stood a chance, you would’ve been together already. and sometimes he wonders if what he said that night was what pushed you over the edge, was what solidified him as nothing more than just a friend with a temper too harsh sometimes that you didn’t want to count on even if you had no one else.
there was a fault he could find in the way you pushed him away. but there’s more that he can find with himself for saying what he said to you. he still counts himself lucky you never held a grudge with him over that.
eita chuckles under his breath; he can’t believe he’s about to say something so corny but he doesn’t know how else to tell you. “i kinda don’t want our friendship to change,” he explains, and he has to look away because if you’re going to run away again, he doesn’t know how he’ll take it. you’re about the only person who knows every single side of him. sides he doesn’t normally show to people. “so… don’t fucking run away again, or treat me differently just ‘cause you know how i feel. that just makes me feel fucking pathetic.”
because he knows you only pushed him away since you couldn’t reciprocate. you weren’t a slut, and you surely didn’t deserve any of your unfortunate circumstances—nothing he said that night was true. you only had good intentions, and the words that came out his mouth were only bad.
even until now, he hadn’t apologised.
yet here you are. smiling in front of him, for him, because of him. despite everything shitty going on in your life, here he is, asking you for a favour. and you’re nodding your head, preserving the friendship that you needed to stay a friendship, just like you’ve always been.
“okay, i promise,” you say, a childish smirk on your face as you hold your pinky out, to which he obliges and hooks his own around.
“you’re so dumb, i wonder what he sees in you,” eita sighs as he yanks his pinky away.
you’re laughing, the earlier bad memory already whisked away by the sunlight hitting your face. “who?”
“sae.” you freeze on eita’s words, but eita does you a favour and pretends he doesn’t see, doesn’t tease you about it. he wants to know about all of this, even if it’s just from the jealous perspective of being the throwaway option. “he treats you like…”
“like what?” your voice quivers a little, because you’re nervous. you always are when it comes to itoshi sae, somehow. (you won’t admit that right in front of the man himself though, too embarrassing.)
“like he likes you.” eita has to swallow the lump in his throat. it sucks to be talking to you about this, to possibly be talking this guy up, but he knows you need a friend. and he knows you don’t open up easily, so he has to be your best option. eita looks at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if you’d open up a little bit more.
there’s a faraway gaze in your eyes. “eita?”
“yeah?”
this time, that gaze focuses on him, a warm, sad smile on your face. looks like the pity hasn’t fully worn off, but he’ll excuse it this time.
“thanks,” you say, so softly.
looks like you aren’t really ready to talk about it yet. eita rolls his eyes jokingly; trying to be just a best friend seems pretty hard after all. “stop being a sappy piece of shit,” he groans, earning a giggle from you.
somehow it feels nice, being able to take away some of that pain, even if just for a small moment. though, maybe you’d have an easier time around sae, if you would just learn to open up.
“and hey, if you’re still too scared to tell him about any of it, you can still find me, ‘kay?” he tells you, and you nod appreciatively. you probably just see him as a big brother by now. “and if your mom’s still giving you trouble, come by anytime, i’ve been too busy nowadays to bring anyone home anyway.”
you gasp, acting shocked. “oh really? wow, a changed man.”
“mhm mhm, i just fuck ‘em in the club.”
your playful jab on his arm comes faster than it usually does.
you wonder if you can ever repay eita for everything he’s done for you—be your punching bag, letting you stay at his house rent-free sometimes, accidentally ruin his date night others. you think of how he feels about you and you think probably not. you probably can’t ever repay him for how much sanity he’s given you back when you were at your lowest. so maybe you’ll start by not running away this time.
but your mind drifts to his words. you’re going to have to tell sae some time, but you know how it turned out the last time you told someone with such a high status about it. you remember how shiro turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, how his warm demeanour changed when it suited him, how he used everything to lord over you.
you wonder if sae will be the same. you don’t even know if these feelings are fleeting or not. are they even worth it?
is sae going to be worth a try? or is he just going to turn out just like shiro?
yeah, you’ll take your time telling him. you want to get to know him, so it’s hypocrisy from your end, but if he’s a good guy, he wouldn’t mind waiting—that’s what you tell yourself, because like hell do you want him to know about your family as you are now. pathetic, scrimping from paycheck to paycheck, desperately clawing your way up into a normal class. next to him, you’re too inadequate.
but then, why is your gut telling you otherwise?
sumi comes bounding in on monday morning, straight to your desk after her morning meeting with the boss. she looks exceptionally happy today, her eyes beaming bright and her smile nearly infectious.
“i swear to god, i think my hard work is paying off!” she exclaims excitedly, careful to keep her voice down even then. she bites on her lower lip, suppressing a grin when she passes you a proposal she’d done up.
on the first page, it’s titled as such: proposal, by suzuki sumi. when you flip to the second page, you’re overwhelmed by a huge close-up picture of one of the top players in soccer right now—isagi yoichi. she giggles when she sees your face contort in surprise, nodding in excitement.
“let’s just say, thanks to a friend of a friend, i managed to talk to isagi at the airport and he personally agreed to do an interview with us,” she proudly explains, answering your unspoken questions. she’s already happily chattering away about her plans for when his interview’s booked—which you learn is still a few weeks away, and may be delayed depending on whether his schedule has any last minute changes.
“that’s lucky,” you comment, passing her proposal back to her. there’s pages and pages of meticulously planned questions and interview segments, along with possible video footage they could do to add onto the company’s youtube account. sumi’s obviously enthusiastic about all of this, more than you’ve ever seen her since you first spoke to her.
it’s nice to see sumi finally happy for once, given how hard she’s been working at this company. she’s the first friendly face you saw when you first came here anyway, and had it not been for her, your work life probably wouldn’t feel as warm as you do now.
“i know, right?” she sighs, content, dreaming about how the interview would go already, about how happy the boss will be with her once their numbers skyrocket. after the lifeline you threw for them by somehow getting to know itoshi sae, it’s been hard for anyone else to keep up. she smirks at you, “remember what i said on your first day here?”
sumi had said a lot of things, actually. most of which were mostly gossip and not actual work, but you can guess what she’s hinting to. “yeah, that it pays to have connections, right?”
you remember those words, only because you’d unintentionally thought back to eita once she’d said them. your attention flits back to sumi, who looks wantonly relieved—she must’ve really been worried for herself then, considering how bad the job market is right now. she never told you, but you could sense she’d been worried about her performance, and whether or not she’d get enough bonus this year to have that dream wedding she’d always cooned over.
“mhm, and you have two indispensable ones yourself,” she points out, winking, taking a sip of her coffee. “otoya eita and itoshi sae, while i’ve just now gotten isagi yoichi.”
she spends the later part of the morning texting you about how she’ll need your help to pull it off, while you juggle work, sumi and apparently sae at the same time, because for some reason, he’s gotten real chatty over the weekend. not that it’s unwelcome—it’s a pleasant surprise.
right, because when you’re out with sae, who has a heck of a pr team—people who make sure to keep him in line, you’ll have to be careful. you can’t let just anyone see you out and about with him, not when he has a ton of crazed fans who would probably butcher you just for dating rumours. your mind drifts off, wondering how bianca deals with it. though, considering she comes from a long line of famous figures, you guess she’s used to it, having to grow up with all that attention around you.
you look at the clock—it’s around ten minutes till your work day ends. your heart speeds up at the notion of seeing him again, even if it’s only been two days since you’d seen him last. you wonder how you’re going to survive if he has to be away for months at a time for his games if you’re already yearning to see him this much now. shaking the feeling off, you straighten up, retreating to the bathroom to freshen up before you go.
at the same time, parked in the corner lot, sae stares at the caller ID on his phone as it vibrates, surprised. he picks it up, wondering why she’s calling when it’s probably late wherever she is.
“hey, it’s your favourite girl,” bianca’s voice squeals over the line. “guess what?”
“what is it?” sae is, for the most part, not too surprised. bianca has a habit of calling him a lot of the time. more and more frequently nowadays. he wonders why.
“i’m in japan right now,” she reveals, giggling, and sae finds a bad feeling dawning over him. “pick me up? i just got to the airport.”
“sorry, can’t pick you up tonight.”
“what? i thought you’re gonna be in japan for a while.” he can just hear the disappointment in her voice.
“yeah, but i’m busy now, so…” sae trails off, not knowing exactly if he should say anything about you.
“oh, with the guys? you could just skip out on—”
“nah, it’s with someone else,” he settles for, wondering what the sudden silence from the other end of the line means. he’s not sure he wants to find out right now, so he’ll have to talk to bianca some other time. “i gotta go—”
“are you going on a date?” bianca’s tone seems more inquisitive than he’d like, but her question has him thinking.
is this a date?
bianca stays silent as he ponders about it, waiting with bated breath because this is the first time in two years that sae had ever rejected her request, and judging by how he’s struggling, he’s undoubtedly meeting a girl. is it you? she curses under her breath as she pushes her hood over her head, determined not to let anyone see her sweat right now.
“yeah,” sae says, the decision coming to him as soon as he sees your familiar face approaching, that polite little smile on your face. “i’ll talk to you later.”
indignant, bianca exhales sharply, her temper taking over her as she huffs a “don’t bother” into the receiver before hanging up.
sae looks down at his phone, staring at her name on the call log. he makes a mental reminder to check in with her later, but for now, he shoves that thought aside—tonight, he’ll focus on you. just you.
and when you effortlessly command all his attention by slipping into the passenger seat all too naturally, he thinks that whatever ripple effect this may cause may be worth it. for him. and now, it’s his mission to make it worth it for you too.
“so,” you say, all sparkly-eyed as you look at him excitedly. “where are we going tonight?”
you thank god that you decided to dress up a little more today when you see that he’s taking you to another high-end place. this time, it’s on a rooftop of a five-star hotel, with views overlooking the tokyo skyline; a view you never thought you’d actually see in person.
it’s breezy enough up here that it’s not too stuffy, and there are step lights and string lights all around the venue but they’re dim enough as to not reveal sae’s face too much. (not that anyone hear even bothers to look at anyone else passing by, all too engrossed in their hushed conversations.) you notice he’s always handsome no matter what he wears—and today it’s a black button-down shirt with black pants, a casual dark jacket hanging over his shoulders. your eyes linger over the little bit of his chest that you can see; you can tell he’s muscular under there.
“distracted much?”
sae’s voice startles you, and you can see him smirking a little as if he knows what you’re thinking. your cheeks heat up a little, acting coy. he’s reaching a hand out, probably something you didn’t notice while you were deep in your thoughts, and you take it, letting him lead you slowly to your seats.
as you take a seat and the waiter hands you the menus, your eyes flick up, looking at the man across from you. he reads the menu silently, and you notice the sliver of black ink that extends across his palm. it takes all you can to suppress a grin.
“i can always give you another one anytime, you know?”
for some reason that you probably know, sae catches on to what you’re talking about pretty quickly, the dim lighting failing to conceal the way his ears turn red. “so you like giving me hearts?”
you don’t miss the slight teasing in his voice, having to conceal your own nervousness. “i think you’re the one who likes receiving them,” you quip, hiding your face behind the menu.
there’s a rustling noise, rousing your curiosity and making you put the menu down. sae doesn’t respond to your earlier comment but he does give you a tiny smile, putting a two-pack of macarons on your side of the table. he must’ve taken it out of his pocket while you weren’t looking.
“what’s this?”
“macarons,” he shrugs, though you’re not really asking that. he picks up on it. “i was in paris for some event over the weekend. thought you’d wanna try that.”
(sae looks at your reaction as you pick the small bag of mini macarons up, eyes staring at it in awe. he thinks maybe you recognise the name on the plastic—it’s the name of the most popular bakery in paris. it costs a lot more than he thinks macarons should, but when he sees the subtle smile on your face, it’s definitely worth the price tag.)
you’re not so big on surprises, especially when your mother loves giving you some on the daily, but this is the kind of surprise you like. the kind that makes that incessant vibrating in your purse worth it. the kind that trumps your want to be in control.
and even throughout dinner, sae keeps surprising you. maybe it’s just that you’ve never experienced much, or that you never expected much from him, but every little thing he does seems meaningful to you. the way he makes sure to ask if you don’t like to eat certain food before ordering, the way he drapes his jacket over you when the wind picks up, even the way he slowly leans across the table to clean the stray crumb off your face with his finger.
every gesture seems to tell you something—something that you don’t dare to think of because you’re scared that it’s not true, that you’re the only one starting to fall.
“you know, if you’re constantly like this around girls, no wonder there’s always dating rumours with you,” you huff, too afraid to ask him directly.
but sae always manages to decipher your intentions somehow. he tilts his head, earnesty dripping from his words, “whatever ‘this’ means, i’m only like that with you.”
it doesn’t do your heart any favours, making it pound a million miles an hour because whatever sae’s confessing to here wasn’t on your bingo card for the day.
“itoshi sae, you’re too much.”
“sae.”
“huh?” you look up at his face, only to see him averting his gaze as he turns to look at the skyline, the wind rippling through his soft pink locks.
“call me just by my name.”
you swallow the lump in your throat, gaze dropping to the table. it’s not like you purposely didn’t, but the fact that he’s asking you like this, like he’s being needy about it, heightens your emotions so much more.
his fingers find their way across the table again, this time to your chin, tipping it up, urging you to look at him. “say it.” it’s not commanding, or mean, or forceful, and his fingers are gentle, even his gaze and his intentions.
“sae.” his name rolls of your tongue slowly, and the way he smiles at you after that makes you feel inexplicable, knowing that you’re the reason he looks like that.
he doesn’t even say anything about it, just a smile in acknowledgement before he says he’ll go and pay the bill. you stare at his back as he goes, the contrast in your lives very apparent at every instance he takes you out—because it’s always fancy and expensive with him, a world you know nothing of, a world you once thought you’d never experience in this lifetime.
yet here you are, experiencing it thanks to him. you wonder if you’ll still get to once he knows about your family. he’s sort of a celebrity, right? there must be things he cares about that won’t line up well with your situation.
yeah, you don’t think you’ll ever get that out of your head. not until you ask him about it.
and you’re tempted to—especially with the vibration you’re constantly feeling tonight. taking the opportunity while sae’s away, you fish your phone out of your purse, picking the call up reluctantly, only because you’re mildly curious what else your dear mother could possibly want from you.
“you ungrateful little whore—”
“what do you want?”
yeah, you know you shouldn’t have picked it up. you really shouldn’t. and you don’t even know why you were even mildly worried that it might be your mother in danger and needing your help when she clearly wouldn’t do the same for you.
you hate yourself the most out of everyone. you knew clearly you shouldn’t have picked it up. and now your mother’s on the other line, cussing you out for ignoring her all night. then going on about some cruise she’s going on next week and how she found a secret stash of cash that you’re keeping in the kitchen cupboards, how you’re going to get it from her for hiding it and how kind it is of her to even warn you in the first place.
it’s fine.
you kept it there to distract her from your real money, safe in the bank. if she thinks she’s stealing all you have, it probably won’t cross her mind that you still have any. she doesn’t even know you’d worked multiple jobs back in university, only thought you were good for hooking up with men and purposefully disrespecting her.
a hand around your shoulder makes you jump back in shock, your eyes greeted with sae’s own.
“everything okay?”
“y-yeah, it was just a scam caller,” you lie, immediately hanging up and stuffing it back in your pocket.
as you clamour on about how both of you should really get going, sae catches the way your fingers tremble ever so slightly, how your lips threaten to downturn—are you about to cry?
but when you turn around and force a grin, joking about how you’re going to pull a dine and dash on him, he knows you won’t. whatever’s bothering you—you’re locking him out of it. he doesn’t like it, but can he even complain?
and when the both of you are back in the car, the night feels strangely short somehow, and sae reluctantly pulls out his gps. “what’s your postal code again? i’ll drive you back.”
there’s a short pause before you offer him the string of numbers, and sae’s brows furrow when he keys it in. “you’re heading to otoya’s?” he asks. he knows you two are close, and have been, but this sinking feeling in his heart is not something he’s familiar with.
you bite on your lower lip. you don’t want him to have any false assumptions, but you’re not exactly ready to tell him the truth either—that you’re just running from your problems, that eita’s house is the only other space you have.
“are you… still involved with him?” sae asks, voice soft, looking away like he did earlier.
it reminds you of that night you got drunk. you remember how you needed to know. so you figure maybe you owe him the same. “i’m not involved with anyone,” you tell him, smirking. but he looks at you like he’s waiting for more and you remember too, what you want to hide from him for now. “i just—i don’t have—”
“hey, you don’t have to say anything,” sae cuts in, the slight quiver in your voice enough indication that this isn’t something you’re prepared to say. he’s known that for a while now. “you just can’t go home, right?”
you’re more than a little grateful that he is the way he is, that he doesn’t force anything out of you like shiro used to. “yeah,” you admit, awkwardly looking away. “i usually just stay at eita’s until… i’m ready to go back.”
there’s an awkward silence that stretches on for a while before sae concedes to it. “you could stay at mine.”
did you hear that right?
you furrow your brows. “what?”
sae’s mouth hangs open for a while, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “i could drive you to otoya’s if you prefer that. but… if you wanna stay at mine, that’s fine too. i have a couple extra rooms, you could just pick one.”
what you actually wanted to hear was why he’s willing to do that for you when he hasn’t even known you long, but you hold your tongue. there are doubts in your head—like privacy issues since he’s a celebrity, and rumours if you ever get caught entering or exiting his house, and what exactly does he see you as?
but there’s the selfishness part of you that wants to go for it. and you listen to her.
“then, can i stay over? just one night so i won’t intrude too much,” you assure him, being polite because you’re scared you’re overstepping your boundaries. or that he’ll think you’re a creep even though he’s the one that invited you.
sae can’t help but snicker, and you can’t help but stare as he rests his head against the steering wheel, staring at you. “are you interested in me, y/n?”
you pout, because he’s hit the nail on the head, the embarrassment flying to your head. “okay you know what? if you’re gonna joke about it just take me to eita’s—”
this time sae bursts out laughing, and you feel even more mesmerised; it’s unfair how easy it is for him to do that.
“okay okay, i won’t say that anymore,” he appeases you, hand coming up to ruffle your head. “and feel free to stay as long as you want.”
“i’m gonna steal your jacket, by the way, since you like to joke around so much,” you huff, though sae only chuckles at whatever you say now.
“sure, take whatever you want.”
“and you’re buying my necessities.”
“for when you’re at mine? sure.”
“sae, one day i’m gonna kill you.” because he’s still laughing, obviously getting a kick out of your earlier embarrassment.
“you can’t do that.”
“and why not?”
and sae’s face immediately leans forward, just inches away from you. he’s so close you can feel his hot breath against your cheeks and it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest.
“then i won’t be able to give you that kiss you asked for.”
your breath catches in your throat, sae coming closer ever so slightly, his gaze falling to your lips for a split second before he shatters your hopes by pulling away, setting the gps to the nearest convenience store. but he doesn’t drive off just yet.
not before he makes sure to look at you one last time, that dazed look on your face, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to pinch your cheek gently, leaving an imprint of himself in your heart.
“come on, we’re here.”
after a half hour of poking around the convenience store and getting whatever you need (you also had to stealthily creep some disposable underwear in your basket and make sure sae didn’t see them when paying), you arrive at sae’s apartment—nestled in one of tokyo’s most luxurious neighbourhoods. a far cry from your own.
he carries your bags for you, leading you to his unit, straight at the top, on the thirty-second floor. his is the corner unit, and he gestures for you to walk in front of him.
“1-0-0-9,” he tells you, both hands full.
“huh?”
“the combination, it’s 1—”
“no, i heard you,” you interject, a little exasperated. “but you shouldn’t just hand the passcode out to anyone.”
“i don’t,” he assures you, saying it matter-of-factly. “i trust you.”
you hurry to key in the code, so easily flustered by the way he seems so willing to tell you anything. “then don’t blame me if one day you come back home to find the place ransacked,” you jokingly warn him.
sae conveniently ignores that comment, placing your items in one of the spare rooms nearest to the living room. as you walk in, you marvel at how spacious and clean his apartment is. it’s all cold marble floors and high ceilings, and you can already tell it must be so nice in the day with all the natural lighting flooding in here. the wide windows must let all the sunlight in, must be much brighter during the day than yours is.
you follow him as he tells you where everything is; the spare room right next to the living room, the toilet across from it, the kitchen right next to the balcony exit, accessible from your own room. his apartment is so huge it makes you wonder if he ever feels lonely in it.
in the living room, you see multiple pictures in frames, most of which you assume are probably his family. you recognise rin, present in most of the pictures. they look happy, at least. there’s also one with eita and the others, and some others you don’t recognise. none of bianca or any other girls, you note.
“all good?” he asks once he’s done with the mini tour.
you nod apprehensively, still tense about the fact that you’re staying the night at his place. “yeah, i’m just gonna wash up first.” you don’t even let him say anything before you’re bounding off into the spare room he gave to you, trying to calm yourself down because it never hit you until now that you’re really here, in sae’s place, ready to make yourself at home when you’re not even anything to him. though, you really hope that there’s something.
“calm down, y/n, just gotta take a shower and you’re good as new,” you whisper to yourself, calming yourself and taking deep breaths.
outside, sae’s gaze lingers on the door to your room, your shadow visible from the bottom gap of the door as you move about. he can’t even come up with a good enough reason to tell himself why he bothered to let you stay here, except maybe that he selfishly didn’t want you to stay with otoya.
is that bad?
before he can ponder anymore about it, the door to your room opens and you sheepishly walk out, a grin on your face as you approach him. “so… i forgot something.”
and now you’re going to ask him for it.
“what is it?”
“i swear i didn’t forget on purpose, okay?” you’re pouting, and he finds it mildly adorable. “could i borrow some clothes?”
sae nearly bursts out laughing just from how nervous you seem. though, from how you’ve been every time you saw him, from his hat to his jacket and now you’re asking for his clothes, he can see why you’re a little nervous.
“do you always forget around otoya too?” he means that redundantly more than anything, just a passing comment, but you answer anyway.
“well, i always just wear his jerseys.”
you really were just answering honestly, but the way sae grips your wrist and guides you to his closet is almost comical. you allow yourself to think that he’s doing this out of jealousy, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you follow him.
“you have a walk-in closet?” you gape, looking at the sheer size of it. it’s nearly as big as your entire room.
“take whatever you want, my jerseys are in there,” sae says, pointing you to the sliding door closest to you.
that’s how you end up coming out of the showers a half hour later, dressed in his national jersey, his name in block letters at the back. you’d take a picture just to savour it, but you’d like to think that hopefully this isn’t the last time you’ll get to wear it.
when you come out, sae’s already washed up, probably has his own bathroom in that big bedroom of his. his hair’s wet, dripping onto his thin white t-shirt, eyes finding your gaze as you walk towards him and bow deeply. you’re a comfortable distance away from your mother, phone switched off and discarded into one of the drawers in the guest room, only because sae was kind enough to let you stay. for multiple nights even, if you want to.
“thank you,” you tell him, and it’s for more than just tonight, more than just dinner and a shirt and a bed to sleep in. somehow, ever since you’d met him, he’s been there for you constantly, even if he doesn’t mean to be. it still counts for something, you think, because you can’t even remember the last time you felt like a giggly high school girl having a normal crush even if it’s on a not-so-normal person.
“not gonna ink it on my skin now?” sae teases when you straighten back up, and you roll your eyes.
“don’t blame me if you wake up with a dick drawn on your face.”
“is that what you want?” sae asks you, and you get the feeling he’s not even invested in your quip, his mind elsewhere.
sae’s face is right in front of yours, like so many times before now, it feels like. it makes you think you’re not that delusional, that he could feel just the same as you do—excited, tired, confused.
“i already told you what i want,” you whisper, and you would probably kill yourself if you were thinking clearly for being so open and vulnerable in front of him right now, but then it doesn’t matter.
none of it matters when his lips are on your lips and you can taste the mint lingering on his tongue, when you can feel the way his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you closer, but gently, like he’s trying not to seem too eager but so close to failing. his hair tickles your face, the way he keeps coming back for more leaves you breathless.
your arm comes up behind his neck, keeping him close. his kiss makes your mind hazier than any alcohol can, his grip falling to the back of your thighs, your lips still connected as he lifts you up onto the counter of the kitchen, his body nestled comfortably between your thighs as he knocks the air out of your lungs.
it’s as if he’s telling you you’re not crazy, that you’re not imagining anything, because he’s here with you right now, out of anyone’s watchful eyes and he’s kissing the fuck out of you simply because he wants to. no dares, no alcohol—just itoshi sae and his crumbling resolve to hide his yearning.
by the time he pulls back, both of you are trying to catch your breaths, foreheads leaning against one another and it leaves you wondering whether it’s as you think or if he’s just entertaining your wishes.
“you know something?” he speaks, voice hoarse as his teal eyes look at you from behind those beautiful lashes of his. you swallow the lump in your throat, forcing a what? out even if it’s barely audible at best. “i’ve been wanting to do that too.”
you must’ve been wrong. you’re not the one that’s a lot to handle. he is.
“why is it that you always somehow know what i’m thinking?” you wonder out loud, an arm around his shoulder for support. you’re both still as close, still as mesmerised by the other.
sae doesn’t really know what you mean by that, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m just made for you,” he comments offhandedly, and you find it hard not to shrink from the nervousness. by now, he should already be able to tell you have a crush on him. your only saving grace is that he probably feels the same. otherwise, you have no doubt he’d probably go out of his way to avoid you.
“you have quite the tongue on you, you know that?”
sae chuckles softly, a smirk lining his lips as he continues staring at you, admiring every single inch of your face. “you would know.”
completely flustered, you gently push him away, hopping off the counter and skipping towards the guest room, offering sae one last thing to think about before you shut the door on him—“maybe next time you’ll know about me too.”
and once your door is shut, sae exhales shakily, the thought of your words and their insinuation consuming him for the entire night.
you really are a lot to handle.
extras !
that heart reaction from sae was absolutely an accident. he meant to go for the thumbs up.
after that kiss, sae had to help himself. he wasn't planning on going any further, but you turned him on a lot more than he thought was possible.
despite his feelings, eita still thinks he isn't ready to commit to just one person.
your feelings towards your mother are complicated—you know she isn't loving at all now, and yet you still hope for that small chance that she might revert back to the mother who once promised to love you more than anything else. it's something that eita was always against because he knew how much it hurt you. it's part of why you don't like to speak to eita about it and hear all of those things.
bianca got drunk to forget after sae rejected her request; when she drunk dialled him, he was too busy giving you a tour of his house.
sae has never invited bianca over to his house even once. he also has never lent her any of his jerseys (as she mentioned in the start of the chapter).
taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii
#itoshi sae x reader#sae x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x you#sae x you#itoshi sae x y/n#sae x y/n#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#૪ aeri’s fics !
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Thank you, orrin 💖 Your support is vindicating. I like to give the benefit of the doubt, so despite all the negative things I'd heard about lilith and how she treats people, I didn't want to let that shape her in my mind before I gave her a chance. So I tried to extend that olive branch in my reply and apologize for not being clearer in my initial reblog (while still trying to stick up for myself where I felt it was warranted).
I'll admit it frustrates me that the effort I put into that in-depth reblog was tossed aside, as she blocked me (making my response to her accusations impossible to see without that link or stumbling across it on my blog), and then wrote that post that not only showed she'd hardly skimmed what I'd said and selected the first thing she could jump on, but twisted it to make me seem like I was saying something completely different. Much like the whole "hatejerk" accusation that showed she didn't actually read what I said on that post, either. I even had a section of my response that said "Please read this part, even if you want to hate me," but based on her reaction I'm 99% sure she didn't get that far in the post.
I know lilith has a lot of followers in the fndm, and I've seen at least one person reblog her vaguepost about me, which sucks knowing that because she hid my response and didn't reply to it, almost none of her followers will have the context.
This is the issue I talk about in some circles of the fndm, and it's disheartening because I do try to see the best in people, give second (or hundredth) chances, and take what they say in the best possible light, so when people do the opposite, it shows they don't see others as individuals, but a hivemind. "I know how people like you think." No, you don't. And I don't know how you think. So let's talk about how and what we think as people, not as "people like you."
I really hate doing these callout posts, but an incident that occurred last night has forced my hand.
I’ve noticed a considerable number of my followers follow @/lilithfairen, and I did, too, for a while. Until last night.
They made a rather disrespectful post generalizing all RWDE stans as bad, and a close friend of mine who uses the RWDE blog to voice their genuine, firm, and fair criticisms didn’t appreciate the rude generalization, so they commented on it.
Lilith’s response was disgusting, and it was blatantly evident that they did not read the entire response, only reading until they found something that they could get mad about. They then went onto my friend’s blog and went through all of their RWDE posts just to find something else to get mad about.
Even so, my friend remained respectful, giving reasonings behind their criticisms and providing evidence of what their posts meant, which can be seen here.
She insulted and tore into my friend, then blocked them, and then made a vague, passive-aggressive post about them, twisting their words into something entirely different than what my friend said without providing any evidence.
My friend attempted to defend themselves, and she blocked them again. It’s clear that she had no intention of conversing in good faith, and attempted to drag my friend through the mud through a lie.
I commented on their original post which you can see here, because I do NOT tolerate the abuse and bullying of my friends, and instead of replying, they simply blocked me like the coward they are.
She’s just like CanonSeeker, a venomous parasite who leeches off the fandom in order to make herself feel bigger and better, to look like some kind of hero in the eyes of the community, when really, she’s just another toxic member.
Not all criticism is unfaithful, and if you think someone is a bad person for having opinions that you disagree with, or has a criticism about something in the show, then you’re toxic. Fragile and toxic.
Please, I know she’s influential, but I would appreciate if you were wary about her and her “sources”, if you don’t feel comfortable unfollowing or blocking.
#ok I'm done#thanks again green<3#fndm discourse#quin additions#long post#sorry for the discourse#it's just nice to know someone's sticking up for me#esp with how many followers lilith has#eh I already had canonseeker block me so this is round two of 'big name fan attacks my character without actually reading what i say' :P#I don't intentionally seek out drama... I was defending the people she accused of not caring about the animators#WAIT A SEC#point 1 on her reply said rwde was frothing about the 2023 delay with 'no concern or empathy for the staff'#so.... what was the og post about then??#you said their concerns about the staff/animators was inauthentic and out of nowhere?#but then said it's not there at all?#maybe it was a typo and she meant the 2022 delay... but even then that's just false - I vividly remember the rwde tag back then#it was full of 'hopefully it'll give the crew more time and less crunch'#sigh#idk it's not important which she meant at this point I suppose#I also recall people accusing those rwde users back then of not really caring for the staff and just shtting on crwby#but can't remember if lilith was among them#ah well. I did what I could#if you read this far ily<3
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Reunion
pairing: bokuto koutarou x fem!reader
warnings: fluff, smut, slight angst, breeding kink, unprotected sex, public sex, bokuto does the kabedon
word count: 5,006
a/n: this is my submission for the Haikyuu Headquarters second NSFW server collab! this time it’s the prompt “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” you can find the masterlist HERE by the amazing @vixen-scribbles who is my queen so go give her a follow! 💖
thank you @deathcab4daddy & @gallickingun for beta reading, ily guys so much (go give them a follow if you aren’t already)! 💖
now enjoy; feedback is always appreciated! <3
tag list: @miamiya (message me if you want to be included)
Synopsis: Three years has passed since you got your heart broken by your one true love Bokuto Koutarou. A high school reunion is about to take place at Fukurodani Academy. What will happen when you finally meet your ex boyfriend?
MASTERLIST!
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
Your eyes scanned the invitation card from your high school. Reading every word that’s written. A high school reunion. The thought alone makes you think of him. Wondering how he’s doing. He may be your ex and the boy who broke your heart, but he was your first and still to this day, your only love, and you knew why he did it. He had his reasons.
He had talked you through it before you both graduated high school. He had told you that he wanted to focus on volleyball and that he was going to move away from Tokyo, and you were not the type to try and stop him. You wanted him to succeed. You also had to think about your future and what you wanted to achieve. Both of you went your separate ways, heartbroken that you could not be together anymore.
Bokuto succeeded in achieving his dream. He was playing in big arenas with huge crowds, on TV and he was a well-known volleyball player. The number 4 ace and captain from Fukurodani made it big, just like he promised you all those years ago.
You sighed and placed the card onto your fridge. There was still one week left until the reunion, and it wasn’t like Bokuto would show up. He was busy with volleyball, especially since a new season just started.
You sigh and turn around to grab the warm coffee cup and head to your couch. Once seated you turn on Netflix and start a random show. Grabbing your phone, you go to the search bar on Facebook and search for your ex-boyfriend. Once the two of you had broken up you had unfriended him immediately. You knew it was going to be hard to get over him, so to save you from having to see his posts and face on Facebook, you removed him.
He’s the first one that pops up. You share mutual friends, so it isn’t that weird. You go to pictures and see him with all sorts of different people, smiling and laughing. Sometimes even looking, upset?
Sighing you close the application, lock your phone, and toss it next to you on the couch. Closing your eyes, you throw your head back against the headrest, hoping and praying that Bokuto doesn’t show up to the reunion.
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
Wearing a black evening gown with a front slit, thin shoulder straps, and a pair of black heels you step into the big gymnasium where the rest of all the third years are gathered. A waitress walks up to you with a tray in hand, offering you a welcome drink, probably champagne. You take a glass and nod your thanks. Taking a sip, you sigh and take in your surroundings. People are standing in groups, chatting, and laughing. You see Yamato, Konoha, Haruki, Yukie, and Kaori in the middle. Konoha looks your way and you lock eyes. He smiles widely and waves you over. The rest of the gang turns around and sees you too, all of them start to yell at you to rush over.
You smile at them and head towards the squad.
“(y/n)! you’re here!” Yukie excitedly exclaims.
“Yes. Here I am,” you laugh. “How’s everyone? Haven’t seen you all in ages.”
You stand there talking with everyone. You chug the rest of your glass and turn around to grab another just as a round of applause is heard. You follow everyone’s gaze and see someone enter the gymnasium.
“Hey, hey, heeeeeey!” The voice echoes. A familiar voice.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You chant and shove your champagne glass to Yukie. “I need to use the loo.”
“Wait- (y/n)!” She yells after you, but you’re already headed for the door that leads you towards the nearest toilet.
Your heart is beating hard, you can feel your pulse rising. Adrenaline has kicked in and you feel nervous. You’re breathing heavily as you reach the door, turning around slightly to just peek at the man that has made you react this way.
He hasn’t spotted you yet. He’s surrounded by girls and boys, welcoming their former ace to the reunion. You stand there, the door slightly opened, your body halfway through the doorframe and take him in.
He’s wearing ripped black jeans, a matching black tee, black vans, and a light blue jean jacket. His hair is spiked the same way as usual and his golden eyes are filled with happiness. He laughs loudly and scans the room like he’s looking for someone and then his orbs land on you. The way he gazes at you makes your whole-body shiver and you feel like you can’t breathe. You stand still, watching him watch you for a second more until you turn your body back and go through the door and towards the ladies’ room.
Once inside you stand by the door, back against it, trying to control your breathing.
Okay (y/n), calm down! Act normal and don’t freak out!
After 5 minutes you turn around and push the door and walk out, walking back to the gymnasium. You pass a hallway when suddenly-
“(y/n)?”
“Jesus fucking christ!” You jump. “Don’t scare me like that.” You exclaim and turn around and are met with a pair of golden eyes.
“Ah sorry,” Bokuto speaks, his hand rubbing the back of his head. “I just wanted to see how you were feeling. You rushed out so fast.”
“I’m fine,” you sigh. “I just needed to use the toilet.”
“Oh. Okay.” There’s a long pause. Both of you are silent.
“Bokuto-kun!” A female voice yells out, interrupting the awkward silence and you turn around to see where the female is.
“I should head back. Yukie is probably waiting for me,” you lie. “It was nice seeing you Bokuto,” you smile at him and turn around to leave, but he grabs you by the forearm and pulls you towards him.
“Let’s take a walk around the school. I don’t wanna head back just yet.”
“Bokuto I-“
“Please (y/n)? I haven’t seen you in ages and I just wanna talk.”
“Fine,” you sigh.
“Great,” he smiles. “Let’s go then!” He grabbed your hand instead and intertwined his fingers with yours as he dragged you down the hallway and escaped the voice of the girl that was calling his name.
He suddenly stops outside of your old classroom and you both stand there, panting and trying to control each other’s breathing.
“Felt like a teenager doing that,” he laughs. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just need a moment.” Still panting, you stay silent, and watch his tall frame. You stand up straight and clear your throat. Bokuto turns his body sideways and looks at you.
“Do you think it’s open?”
“I don’t know, but what do you wanna talk about Bokuto?” You speak up, wanting to get away from this situation. “We broke up. We’re exes, we’re not supposed to be like this.”
The silence returns, Bokuto’s eyes never leaving yours. You watch him, still out of breath you feel an aching pain in your chest. You fist both of your hands beside your body, tears starting to form in your eyes.
“I- shit,” you curse and let out a small laugh. “I need to leave.” You’re just about to turn around when Bokuto’s right arm slams itself on the wall to your left, stopping you in your tracks. You press your back to the wall and raise your head so you can meet his gaze. His tall frame towering over you.
“Don’t,” he sighs. “Don’t leave.” You don’t listen to his plea and try to leave again but this time he slams his left arm on the wall, caging you in.
“Bokuto. Let me go!”
“No!”
“I- What?”
“I came to this reunion mainly so I could see you,” he pauses before continuing. “I made up my mind that if you came, I would try to get you back, ‘cause I still fucking love you.” His golden eyes stare right into yours. You can see the determination in them.
“The way we broke things off, I should never have ended it that way. We shouldn’t have ended it that way. If I could go back and change it, I would’ve made you come with me. I was stupid to let you go.”
“Bokuto, I-“
“And stop calling me Bokuto!” he fumes. “You never called me that while we were dating and-“
“We’re not dating now!” You respond, interrupting him.
“I know!” He slams his right fist on the wall, making you jump. You have never seen Bokuto this upset before, not even when you broke up.
“I’m sorry. Shit (y/n) I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. I-“
“It’s okay, Bo! It’s… fine,” you sigh out that last word. You let your head hang low, watching the ground, seeing how close his body is to you. You gulp, trying to contain your thoughts. You haven’t had any sexual contact with anyone for as long as you can remember, and seeing Bokuto now, here, this close makes you clench your thighs together. But you would not let your sexual desires over him take over. If he wanted you back, he had to tell you, and apologize.
“When I- We broke up I did it because I wanted to focus on volleyball.”
“Yeah, I know that.”
“Wait, let me finish.” You stay silent and let him continue.
“I wanted you to come with me, I wanted you with me so badly and I thought that I couldn’t let you come with me because I didn’t want you to stop chasing your dreams. Volleyball was my ambition, not yours.” He pauses for a second, collecting his thoughts and breathing before continuing.
“But I was wrong and dumb. I didn’t ask what you wanted, I just assumed and chose for you. I should’ve talked it out with you, asked you if you wanted to come with me and I didn’t. I fucked up,” he takes a deep breath before yet again continuing talking, expressing his emotions.
“Over these past few years, I haven’t been able to let you go. You were always on my mind. You had taken over my head so bad that I started seeing things. Seeing you on the streets, in the audience while I was playing. I never stopped thinking about you. I even stalked your Facebook multiple times and-”
“You stalked my Facebook?” You look up, watching him. Your heart beating fast against your ribcage.
“Yeah, not my proudest moment but I did. I needed to see your face, needed to see what you were doing, and if you were seeing someone. If you were as miserable as I was,” he sighs, his eyes watching yours. “Please (y/n) I am desperate. I want you back. Give me a second chance. I need you back in my life. If you just give me a small chance, I will prove it to you that I will be one of the best decisions you’ll ever make.”
Bokuto sighs out loudly, like he was in pain, and places a kiss on top of your head before sinking so his eyes are in front of yours. His face just mere inches from yours.
“Just give me one chance. Just one so I can have you back. I want you (y/n). I want to be able to call you mine again. I just need one-“
You decide to instead of using words you crash your lips against his. Cutting him off mid-sentence, wrapping your arms around his neck. It only takes Bokuto a few seconds to respond by kissing you back, his body pressing itself close to yours, his forearms bracing him on the wall.
You break off the kiss, bite your lip, and look into his golden shimmering eyes. “I never stopped loving you either.”
“Really? I expected you to have a boyfriend or fiancé by now.”
“No,” you groan. “I tried dating, but nobody compares to you.” He smiles widely at your words. Like a kid on Christmas morning.
“I’ll try to give you everything I can Bo, I’ll try-“
“Everything means nothing if I can’t have you (y/n)!” Blushing you look down, but Bokuto grabs your face in his hands and presses a kiss on your lips again. And again. You fist a handful of his shirt in your palms and press your body close to his, feeling his semi poking you and showing how much he wants you.
“You’re mine, (y/n). I love you so much,” he moans against your lips and then pushes his tongue inside of your mouth. His hands moving to grab your ass, pushing your pelvis against his. “I’m gonna prove it to you. I need you now. No time to waste.”
He pushes himself off you and turns around, trying to open your old classroom door and to his luck it does. His wide smile is back as he ushers you in.
“Wait- Bo! We can’t, not here.”
“Aww c’mon baby, it’ll be fun and besides,” he pauses, still looking at you as he undoes his belt. “I always wanted to fuck you in this classroom back in the day.”
His sentence makes you hurry inside, and you look around the now unfamiliar classroom. You hear Bokuto close and lock the door, the sound of his zipper being pulled down makes you turn around and face him. His pants are undone but still around his hips.
“Come here baby,” obeying, you take a few steps forward and stop once you’re in front of him. Both of his hands grab you by the waist and pull you forward, his lips instantly crashing to yours. His lips don’t stay on yours too long as they start to travel down the side of your neck towards your exposed collarbone. While his lips are giving your upper body some attention, his hands push your dress up, exposing your black lace thong to his fingertips.
Bokuto recognizes the material and stops his movements just so he can peek at your underwear. He grunts.
“Do you… like them?”
“I love them, baby. Jesus Christ.” Bokuto’s lips return to yours, his index and middle finger tracing the outline of your slit, making you squirm. He then removes them and ushers you to get up on one of the desks, and you do, but not before you remove your thong as sexy as you can, and throw it on the ground nearby.
“Babe, you’re gonna be the death of me!” he exclaims in a groan and hurries back to you. His body standing between your thighs. A slight breeze passes making you shudder, your nipples peek through your dress. Bokuto notices this and instantly with both of his hands, he pushes your dress down your arms and chest, making your breast spring free.
“Haven’t touched these girls in years,” he speaks while palming them both. “So beautiful.”
“Bo- I-“
“Shh love. It’s all about you now,” he removes his right hand just so he can tease your opening. Lubricating your core with your wetness before inserting a finger inside you, making you moan and throw your head back.
“Baby. Look at me,” he groans. You pull your head back and watch him. He removes his left hand and places it beside you, bracing all his weight on it while his other hand is occupied with your cunt. His finger going in and out of you, your walls clamping around him tightly. He snickers at how wet you feel around him and adds another finger, his middle and ring finger are fucking you slowly, too slow for your liking.
“Bokuto, please. I want more,” you moan.
“Easy now baby, I wanna savor this moment. Feeling your wet cunt around my fingers after such a long time,” he grunts. “God baby, you’re so wet.”
“I know, it’s all for you Bokuto.”
He licks his lips seductively and leans in closer to you, his breath hits your neck and makes your whole body shudder. His tongue comes out and licks you up from your collarbone to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and making you let out a sigh in pleasure.
“Do you like that, hmm?” He snickers. “Do you like my fingers inside you (y/n)?”
“Y-Yes Bo, I-I love them,” you moan. He lets out a slight “fuck” as he rests his forehead on your shoulder and thrusts his digits harder inside your wet and aching core. Wanting you to cum so badly. He arches his fingers inside you, making them hit your g-spot.
“Bo, please. I’m so close,” you groan. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You keep on whining to him, the once familiar feeling returning to the pit of your stomach. The pressure in your lower abdomen is getting higher and higher. Your legs start to shake and in just a couple of seconds, you’re releasing yourself around his fingers, your right-hand wraps itself around his wrist, nails digging into his soft skin as you moan out loudly from orgasming.
“Kou!” you scream, your walls clamping themselves around him, his fingers still going in and out of you, your legs shaking and your pelvis grinding itself on his hand. Eyes closed and mouth wide open and panting, trying to get your breathing under control.
After a minute, you open your eyes and are met by a smug smile as he removes his fingers and raises his hand to his lips, licking your juices off his fingers while still maintaining eye contact with you.
“I missed the taste of you baby,” he groans. His long fingers going inside that beautiful mouth of his. A big smile on his lips, his excitement palpable.
Once he has licked his fingers clean, he moves his hands to his pants and starts to pull them down his long legs along with his briefs, his cock springing free and colliding with his lower abdomen. Precum leaking from the tip.
Your eyes are glued on his hard member. It’s as beautiful as you remember, two veins going around his shaft, the pink head craving attention.
Your eyes never leave his crotch as his hand goes down and wraps itself around his hard cock, moving up and down slowly.
“You’re so eager, I love it baby, so sexy when you look at me like that,” his voice speaks, making you look up and meet his golden eyes. He takes a small step forward and with his hand that’s around his cock he traces your lips, mixing his precum with your wetness.
“Wait Kou- Condom!” You moan. The fact that you managed to even utter those words surprised you, but you didn’t know who he’s been with.
“I didn’t bring one,” he answers. “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you instead,” he groans and rams himself inside you. Your walls clenching around him tightly. Your heat making his cock twitch from excitement.
“Fuck Kou, you- you feel amazing.”
“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. I can feel you pulsating around me.” He’s still for a moment, letting you get used to him. Had he gotten bigger since you last were with him? Or had it just been such a long time since you’ve had sex? It didn’t matter to you, you loved the feeling of him stretching your walls, making your tight cunt ache for him to move.
His hips backtrack only to force themself back to you, colliding and hitting your g-spot, making you throw your head back and grip the edge of the table hard. Your eyes are closed as you take in all the pleasure that he’s giving you. He repeats the same action, he grunts and you moan at the friction.
“Baby look at me,” he moans, his hand going to your cheek, holding it with his large palm. “I want you to look at me.”
You answer him by moaning, opening your (y/e/c) eyes looking at him, pleasure displayed on his handsome face as he starts to increase both his speed and the power of his thrusts. His hips colliding against yours with a strong force. The pleasure is displayed on your face, a lewd look as you’re loving the way he continues to ram himself inside of you.
“I’m gonna cum inside of that pretty cunt, baby. I’m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he moans loudly, not caring if anyone hears him. He loved the excitement of knowing you could get busted having sex in your old classroom but he didn’t care. He had craved you for 3 long years and he wasn’t going to let this moment pass up.
“I want a future with you,” he continues. “I want to marry you. I want to get you pregnant.”
This makes your cunt clench for him. Your walls clamping themselves tightly around him. Marrying him? Pregnant?
"Oh, you'd like that baby? You want me to breed you, baby?" His thrust hits hard, his cock going deep into your core. His eyes travel down, watching his cock going and out of you. The wetness surrounding it like lube, making it easy for him to thrust in and out of you. His gaze is locked on where both of you connect, watching the way your cunt swallows him whole.
"Fuck baby. Beg for me to fill you, I know you love the feel of my cum inside you."
"Oh god Kou, please fill me with your cum. Breed me," you almost sing. Your voice is filled with all kinds of emotions, pleasure consuming you.
"You want me to breed you, baby? Fill you up with all my sperm," he moans, his hands holding your hips in place as his thrusts got deeper and deeper inside you. The tip of his cock grazing your g-spot viciously, the pressure in your abdomen getting stronger after each thrust. The thought of you swollen with his child made him even harder and closer to reaching his climax.
"Cum for me baby, I want you to cum for me. Cum with me. I'm so close," his thrusts get sloppier and you know he is near his release.
"Cum with me Koutarou. Let's do it together."
"Fuck (y/n)," his whole body stills as he ejaculates inside you. The warmth of his semen spurting in you, coating your walls and you follow him soon afterward. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you coat his cock with your release.
Your body is shaking from the intense orgasm you just had, your teeth biting into your lower lip and you feel him move, his still hard cock going in and out of you. Bokuto is making sure that his cum doesn’t come out, to make sure you’re bred and hoping you get pregnant from this.
"Mhm Kou," you moan. Your eyes glance up to his face. A big smile was plastered on his lips.
"That was so hot baby. I want more."
"I don't think I can stand," you giggle. His eyes are watching you, the smile on your face making his heart squeeze harder and being filled with all his love for you.
"What now?" Your tender voice asks.
"I'm waiting."
"... On what?"
"For you to calm down before I go for round two,” he smirks.
“W-Wait. Hold on. Round two?”
“You didn’t think I was already finished with you, baby? I’m just getting started.” With that being said, he flips you over. The action making his cock get pulled out from your heat.
You’re bent over and your front is pressed against the now warm desk. His hands start to caress your body, from the base of your neck to your naked ass. He gives your ass some attention before slapping each cheek, making you jump from the sudden action.
"I could just cum from the sight of you," he grunts. "I'm gonna cum inside you again, to make sure you're bred."
"Kou-tarou~," you moan as he enters you without warning, his cock rock hard and coated in both your juices and his semen. His hands holding your hips still as he thrusts deep inside you. Ramming his cock hard into your wet and tight core. His fingertips are digging hard into your flawless skin, leaving a mark but you don’t care. The only thing that’s going through your mind right now is the way his cock is pounding into your wet and swollen cunt.
"I won't stop until you're dripping with my cum, to be sure you're pregnant with my child," he almost screams. "Jesus fuck baby the way you clench around me is wonderful."
Your cunt clenches harder around his cock, the thought of being pregnant with his child makes you reach some kind of bliss that you never thought you could. The soft image pops up in your mind for a second, but it’s soon gone as one of his hands grabs your shoulder, his other following suit.
You can feel his semen leaking out as he continues to ram into you, and you know he notices it cause he lets out a snicker.
"My cum is seeping out of your pussy, but I'll fill you up again baby. I'll fill you up again and again."
"Kou- I'm gonna cum again," you moan. Your left hand holding the edge of the desk while your right one is in front of you, trying to grab something and it does as Bokuto's right hand comes forward and intertwines with yours, clamping around it. His body pressed against yours. Feeling his breath on your neck.
"Say it, baby, say what I want to hear."
"P-Put a baby inside me Koutarou please."
"Fuck yes," he moans vocally, biting down on your neck as he fills your cunt with his cum, the feel of his cum inside you again makes you clench around him and you reach your climax.
"Yeah, my cum makes you orgasm so fucking hard right baby?"
"Mhm," you answer, too worn out to even form your own words.
You press the side of your face on the desk and close your eyes. You're breathing heavily, so is Bokuto. His warm breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps form on all of your body.
"(y/n)?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm getting soft."
"Oh my god!" You giggle.
"Stop. You're making me fall out, stop it!" This makes you laugh out loud, this man who just minutes ago went all sex god on you is now filled with concern.
"Are you alright though? I wasn't too hard? Or rough? Or-"
"Baby, you were perfect," you answer in a giggle, interrupting his worrying self.
There's a comfortable silence surrounding you both, not a single word is uttered. The only sound is the sound of your breathing.
Suddenly you feel him move and pull himself out of you. Bokuto is fast with tucking himself inside his briefs and pulling his pants up, buckling his belt too. While doing this, you feel his cum seeping out from your hole.
"Hold on I'm on it," his voice speaks and you can hear him look for something to clean you up with. "This will do."
He's back fast and with some paper towels that are not very nice to your lady parts, and he cleans you up. The feeling of the paper made you wince, both from being sensitive and roughly fucked by your ex and now boyfriend, but also from the paper not being soft enough for your liking.
"I'm done, there," he softly speaks, his voice filled with tenderness but also worry, that it was hurting you. He wasn't. He was doing something so much more, and you loved him for that.
Getting up and getting dressed was the part where it got uncomfortable for you, his eyes stared at you as you dressed, fixing both your gown and hair, making it not look like you’ve just been fucked.
Your thoughts wander to what had just happened. Was this just some kind of roleplay or did he want to impregnate you? Not that it mattered for you, you couldn’t care less because you got what you had wanted for years. Him.
Once you’re done you turn around and see that Bokuto is already watching you, a big smile on his lips.
"What?"
"Nothing. You’re just so beautiful I can stare at you all night.”
"I-" you blush. “Thank you.”
"Now,” he says as he takes a small step forward and grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. His smile still there and you can see how his eyes are glowing.
“I love you,” he kisses you. “I love you so much (y/n). You’re the love of my life.”
"Again."
"Huh?" He turns his head to the side, not knowing what you mean.
"Say it again. I need to hear it again." With confidence, he grabs your face in his hands and holds you in place. His eyes watching yours and with the softest smile on his lips, he says:
"I love you.”
"I love you too." You sigh in happiness and he seals your lips with a passionate kiss. Both of you smiling through the kiss in pure bliss.
He pulls away and grabs your hand and starts to lead you out of the classroom and in the opposite direction of the party. Confusion consumes you as you speak.
"Kou, baby. The party is that way," you giggle and point down the other side of the hall.
"I know. We're not returning."
"We're not?" You ask in confusion.
"No."
"Why not?" He stops in his tracks and you collide with his rock hardback. He turns around, smirking.
"We have 3 years of lovemaking to do and I want you in my bed when doing that." He returns and walks you out and into the parking lot, leading to his car and a future of you and him together again. Nothing could stop you now.
#haikyuu!!#bokuto koutarou#haikyuu!! smut#hqhq server collab#bokuto smut#bokuto x reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#hq#haikyuu#haikyuu smut#sanda writes#my writing#smut
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hi hii I was wondering if you had any taekook x reader fics ? 🙈 , also wondering if I could I go as 🗯 anon if that's okay? I love ur recs so much and ur page is a LIFESAVER , ily bae <3
🌷 Dear 🗯️ anon! I am sorry for answering so late. My drafts are all messed up but I was able to focus on this. On my 📍 pinned post, I actually asked if you meant love triangles or MMF smut but you didn't reply. So, I'll just put both =)
Enjoy! Much love and credit goes to all these wonderful writers who brought these fics to life 💖🥳
TaeKook Fics (Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook)
Love Triangle/s
M/M/F Smutty One Shots/Series
#ReadwithMe (fics in my reading queue/planning to read)
Love Triangle
All I Want @ardentlyjae - series [6/6] | 126k | War AU, Soldier!Taehyung | Heavy Angst, S
I actually read this on AO3 but I realized it’s on tumblr too. I remember this fic every time I hear Kodaline’s All I Want, which the fic was inspired by
Anima Meaology @arckook - series [5/5] | 26k | Soulmate AU, soulmate glitch (those with mismatched tattoos on their wrist) | A, F
I read this long ago on AO3 when I had this soulmate AU-fixation phase and I saw it on tumblr recently. Just had to read it again 🥺
Aquarium, Part 2 @whatifyoulivelikethat - two shot | 6.9k | cheating/infidelity, healing/comfort, second chances | A, F
I really like this comfort fic 🥰. Also shows that people deserve second chances, even the person who caused so much hurt. Screamed about it here and here
Change @junghelioseok - series [10/10] | 39.2k | a kind handsome stranger (Taehyung) makes you question your deteriorating relationship (Jungkook) | A, S, F
can I just say that Taehyung is such a sweetheart here 🥰? I always envision Paris Taehyung 2018 in this
Everything Goes @jamaisjoons - one shot | 24k | Fuckboy!Taehyung, Bestfriend!Taehyung, Stranger!Jungkook, unrequited love | A, S (really angsty)
First Light @inktae - one shot | 24k | Bestfriend!Taehyung, Masked Jungkook who can’t seem to leave the forest, Fantasy AU, based on hotarubi no mori e | F
If you’ve seen my fic recs list, inktae is always part of my recs. The way they write is just emotionally and visually haunting. Their works are just masterpieces. This is beautifully heartbreaking and heartbreakingly beautiful.
House of Cards @aiimaginesbts - series [10/10] | 40k | infidelity au, taehyung in an arranged marriage with someone else, roommate Jungkook | A, S, F
don’t we all want to have a roommate like Jungkook who will be there to comfort you over your heartbreak over someone else?
Stealing the Bite by wildernessuntothemselves - series [6/6] | 37k | witch!reader x werewolf!taehyung x vampire!jungkook, supernatural au, fantasy au | S, A
I mentioned before that some are divided re the ending, so I wonder what’s going to be the reactions of others
The Muse @daddychims - one shot | 30k | Author!Reader, Bestfriend!Taehyung, Fuckboy!Taehyung, Coworker!Jungkook, Taehyung offered OC to watch him have sex with another so she could write an erotic scene | S, A, F
The Universe of Us (read on mobile) @/taesthetes (officially closed her account) - one shot | 21k | Dream AU, Fantasy, Slice of Life, Kimi no Nawa-inspired | F, A
I am never going to shut up about this fic lol. It’s not exactly a love triangle, ugh hard to explain but please read this wonderful fic. Check their other KTH x R x JJK soulmate fic Cloud Ten too.
When You Least Expect @johobi - series [12/14 + drabble] | 118k | Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, Childhood Friend Taehyung, set up with another guy (Jungkook) | S, A, F
ugh, I want to put another tag about Jungkook but I guess it’s a surprise. I just love the drama 🍿
🌷 I’m forgetting two more fics but I’ll update this once I remember. I haven’t read recently released fics too! I’ll add if there are good ones that come along
MMF Smutty One Shots/Series
A Piece of You @httpjeon - one shot | 13.9k | abo dynamics, camboy AU, camgirl AU, fan jungkook joins the cam session | S, F
All’s Fair @kimvtae - one shot | 13k | soulmate AU, college AU, dating Taehyung for a year but different name (Jungkook) showed up on OC’s wrist (lol it’s not a problem if you can get them both) | S
Blacklisted @/httpjeon - one shot | 21k | dom/sub AU, CEO AU, “after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men” | A, F, S
Business @btssmutgalore - two shot | 28.9k | executive!reader, inventors/start-up owners taekook | S (seriously, how could I have missed including this here)
Dulce Periculum @forgottenpasta - two shot [2/2] | 16k | Hybrid AU, Tiger Hybrid!Tae, Owner!Reader, Wolf Hybrid!Jungkook | S, A, F
Easy Like Sunday Morning @ofsugakookies - one shot | 11.8k | boyfriend AU (yes, both of them), dom!taehyung, sub!jungkook | S, PWP
It Takes Two To Make A Thing Go Right @imaginethisbts - two shot [2/2] 11.6k | Hybrid AU (dog hybrids) | S, A (side note: I realized I’ve read all of their fics! give their masterlist a try)
Just Kidding @/whatifyoulivelikethat - series [5/?] | 21.1k+ | nympho OC, friend Taehyung, tae’s roommate Jungkook | S, kinda F, crack
this is actually fun 😊; and the episodes are written in a drabble-ish sort of way so you won’t feel like it needs to be updated to get the story moving. It’s basically just reading fun scenarios of nympho OC and these two satisfying her needs *wink wink
Not So Digital @jiminables - sequel to Digital Boy | 2.7k | camboy!taehyung, bestfriend!jungkook, short mxm | S, slight F
Playing to Win @tayegi - one shot | 8.6k | FWB AU (tae), sort of enemies to lovers (jungkook), TaeKook (mxm), originally Taehyung x OC (fwb) | S
okay this is one of my favorites! I’m amazed at how the power dynamics were written. Taehyung seems a dom with OC but with Jungkook he is all soft and sub; then, there’s that dynamic between Jungkook and OC who disliked each other originally. I just found the shifting so interesting and the writer was able to display these changes in dom/sub behavior among the three characters really well
Pour Up @jungkxook - one shot | 14k | fuckboy AU, fratboy AU (applies to two of them), one sassy OC, one kind of jealous Koo | S (thank you dear author for reposting this! 🥰)
Shhh @bang-tan-bitches - drabble (with OT7 sequel) | 2.7k | PWP (just pure hot imagine)
Shameless @imaginethisbts - one shot | 5.1k | established relationship (jungkook x oc), Taehyung’s POV, exhibitionism | S (not exactly threesome, because JK and OC are just doing it in front of people, Taehyung had a bit of action in the end)
Sugar & Spice @divine-bangtan - one shot | 20.8k | Kiki’s Delivery Service!AU, Baker AU, Noona AU, Assistant!Jungkook, Rich!Taehyung, pining Koo, a bit of M x M | S, F, A (it’s all good everyone ends up happy 😊)
Sugar and Spice @sunkissedjk - two shot [2/2] | 8.6k | Your friends ask you whether you prefer sugar (jjk) or spice (kth) | S
ugh this is such an indulgent imagine. If taekook are your friends and they help you decide what type of sex you prefer through a demonstration, wouldn’t you want for multiple demos before deciding? *wink wink
Sacrilegious @therealmintedmango - part of the Gods and Monsters series | 15.6k | Demon!Jungkook, Fallen Angel!Reader, God!Taehyung | S (so sinful 😈💦)
Sweat Pea @nitaescence - series [10/10] | 63k | DDLG!AU, caregiver!jungkook, caregiver!taehyung, little!oc | S, F, A
so I’m glad there was an ask about caregiver!jungkook because I remembered this. I actually checked if there’s a follow up drabble because the ending is open to any interpretation so I’m curious how other readers interpreted it
051 + Scum’s Wish @scriptmin - one shot | 3k | bestfriend!jungkook, pining!oc (unrequited), rebound!taehyung | S, A
it’s actually kind of sad 😭 but I added this because it's good to have variety. Not all smutty pieces will be a happy one
Tattooed Two @/httpjeon - one shot | 8.5k | tattoo artist AU, boyfriend Jungkook joined by his bestfriend Taehyung | S, F
The Doms Next Door @tatertotthethot - series [3.1/?] | 33.8k+ | BDSM AU, Poly, Neighbor AU, Tattoo Artist AU | S
I really love this series. It’s so funny too, I remember Jimin here - he’s THAT bestfriend you want to have. PLUS TaeKook are absolutely hot. If you're not interested in being a sub or partaking in bdsm, you will reconsider
The Hush Series @suga-kookiemonster - two shot [2/2] | 16.9k | coworker’s friends TaeKook, sort of E2L (Jungkook), dom!taehyung, a bit of voyeurism | | S
okay, I really like author’s writing. It can be about sinful delicious smut scenes but I noticed the members always have this developed characterization. I actually find Taehyung so adorably charming - makes me wonder if irl tae is secretly sinful too behind that sweetness lol
Thic Trilogy @btsinned - series [3/7] | 37k+ | CEO AU, Hybrid AU, College AU, Chubby!Reader | S, F, A
🌷 I’m throwing in fics in my reading queue #ReadwithMe
Attitude Adjustment @s0seo - one shot | 11.8k | Roommate AU | S
Chain Reaction @kissmetae - one shot | 3.2k | boyfriend Taehyung and friend Jungkook helping OC relax | S
Cherry @kpopstories - series [4/?] | 29k+ | college AU, fuckboy AU, love triangle | A, S, F (this is part of my ongoing reading list)
Cobalt Blue @hauntedlilies - one shot | 11.3k | artist AU, “you asked Jungkook to draw you like one of his french girls” | S
When You’re Mad @honeyj00ns - one shot | 3.8k | established relationship (boyfriend Jungkook), enemies to lovers Taehyung, Taehyung is JK’s bestfriend, Christmas AU, College AU| S
Madam Cupcake @craztextae - series [6/?] | 69.2k+ | Sugarbaby AU, Idolverse, idol!jungkook meets OC through an app called “sugarmamas(.)com” | S, F
Player Two @minjoonalist - one shot | 10.6k | Gamer!Jungkook, Boyfriend!Jungkook, Boyfriend!Taehyung, Brat!Reader | S
Tag Team @goodnight-tae - one shot | 5.2k | stripper AU, TaeKook are roommates and friends who share most things 😉 | S, PWP
Whoa @bangtanlalaland - one shot | 4.7k | skater!taehyung, 1970s AU, coworker!jungkook | S, PWP, Crack
posted: 2021 March 12; updated: 2021 May 12
link to other fic recs here
feel free to recommend a fic
#🌷 chats#taekook x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic recs#taehyung fic recs#taekook smut#taehyung smut#jungkook smut#ggukkiereadingcollection#🗯 anon#asks#bts x reader#bts smut
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here, kitty kitty.
summary | Your sugar daddy wants his wildest dreams to come to life. You, on the other hand, aren’t really into it.
warnings | Dubcon, dark themes, pet play, Dark!Sebastian Stan, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby relationship, degrading, praise, humiliation, spanking, overstimulation, use of a leash, spanking via a paddle, butt plugs, no this isn’t beastiality; pet play is a kink, she’s not a furry, public sex? (the reader takes her panties off in the car), tail plug, dildos, vibrators, kneeling, cat ears (headband), smut, rough sex, anal play, dacryphilia?, use of a vibrating butt plug, double vaginal, finger sucking, crawling, + more!! this is a dark fic!! if you aren’t comfortable with reading any of these things, then don’t read this fic!! i am not responsible for your media consumption. +18!!!
pairings | Dark!Sugar Daddy!Sebastian Stan x Shy!Reader.
authors note | this is a birthday drabble for the lovely @peachyteabuck. happy birthday bb! i hope your day is amazing, wonderful, special and full of love and happiness!! you’re such an amazing person and friend, and even though i don’t know much about you, i can tell you’re an even more amazing person in real life. happy birthday, ily! also, this is a dark!sebastian stan fic. i am not implying that sebastian would do this, it’s basically an au. it’s fiction, and fiction isn’t real! any hate comments will be deleted and you’ll be kindly blocked, even if you’re a mutual <3 also i am not trying to wipe the existence of alejandra, once again, it’s fiction! it ain’t real. gif credit to my special baby @mypoisonedvine !! ily!
Your dainty fingers flittered over price tags carelessly. Dollar signs filled your eyes, gleaming and glittering with awe and shock. You couldn’t believe yourself. Once upon a time you used to stare at clearance tags over and over, wondering how gravely it would affect your financial situation. Trips to the bank grew frequently and so did the pile of job applications on the wonky kitchen table you owned. You grimaced at the painful memory, there was no way you’d ever be able to go back to that living nightmare. You sighed as you couldn’t find anything you liked in the store. Associates decked down in all black stood in the back of the store, per your sugar daddy’s request. Sebastian Stan, one of the highest paid actors and a complete heartthrob. You remembered how you both had met, you were his waitress at some expensive French restaurant. You were getting an earful from one of his team members and he had swooped in and saved the day. Soon after that came lavish dates and gifts, and eventually the ultimate proposition that changed your life in the blink of an eye.
He made quick work of moving you out of your cardboard box of an apartment and into his regal condo that laid in the Upper Eastside of New York. Your wardrobe was wiped clean with name brands that made your heart flutter. Decadent jewelry was donned as he liked it -- simple, yet elegant. Pearls laid on your clavicle, not too tight yet not too loose. He dressed you himself that day, as he did everyday. He took care of you like a little pet, one that he was very proud of. He stood right behind you, eyes trailing up and down your body as he admired you. You felt shy under his stoic gaze, ducking your head down. “Babydoll, did you see anything you liked?” He asked, placed his hand on the small of your back. You hesitatingly relaxed into it, nervous yet comforted at the same time. He always kept you on your toes. One minute, his hands would be constantly roaming your body, and the next, they’d be gone.
He had done a marvellous job at keeping your relationship private. You knew how paparazzi would camp outside his many residentials, vying for a simple snap of the actor. But he was smart, always one step ahead. “No, Daddy…” You trailed off, your voice no more than a quiet whisper. You were always shy towards him, especially in public. Quite frankly, you were intimidated. And he loved that about you. You always worried that the other workers in the store would judge you, envy you, sneer at you, or even take pictures of you and him. They were paid hush money, a crisp Benjamin would be slipped into their hands discreetly and sometimes along with a ticket to his latest movie or an autograph. An Italian suit framed his body perfectly, slicked back hair and a strong jawline that made your mouth water. It was grey, almost like the muted tones his eyes held in the midst of cerulean. “Poor baby, you want Daddy to choose something for you?” He asked, the name making you whimper.
You nodded timidly, the heat of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks as shame crawled up your body. His large hand came up and rubbed your bottom lip gently, loving the way it had a slight pout to it. “Go to the dressing room, baby.” He decreed, making you nod and walk over to the room that was closed off with velvet curtains. As soon as he heard your footsteps recede farther, his voice boomed around the store. He had heard the workers talking about you, saying degrading things that would undoubtedly make you cry. He was protective, and he wasn’t going to let some measly, ill-mannered people dishearten you. Maybe you did hear their words, that’s why you couldn’t find anything. “I swear to god, I’ll make sure none of you get a proper job for the rest of your lives! You’ll live in your families’ basements and you’ll neve be happy for the rest of your lives. I’ll ruin you all.” He yelled, revelling in the way they all had tears in their eyes. He dismissed them calling the owner to make sure they got fired.
Veins popped out and his face turned red as he desperately tried to calm down. He searched the store for something for his baby, but prevailed with nothing. He stormed to a mirror and smoothed his hair down, checking his suit for wrinkles and swallowed thickly. He walked through the velvet curtains and spotted you sitting on one of the leather ottomans, one leg bouncing with anxiety and your lip between your teeth. You were lost in the deep sea that was your thoughts, not even noticing that your sugar daddy came for you. Strong hands weighed down on your droopy shoulders, squeezing them slightly to disrupt your far too long thought train. “Did you hear anything, baby?” He asked, leaning closer to you. His warm breath fanned against the back of your neck, lips soft against your ear. You furrowed your brows and turned to look at him.
Worry, fury and dominance etched his features. “Hear what?” You asked, pure naivety lacing your tone. Worry morphed into relief, and his frown turned into a small smile. “Nothing, we’re gonna go now. This store is quite -- how must I put it? -- lackluster.” He smiled, ushering you to get up. You followed him like a little puppy, latching onto the bottom sleeve of his suit. The clicking of your heels on the floor were almost in rhythm with your breathing. Long strides managed to keep you up and deep breaths calmed your nerves. You knew anyone could be watching, phones out as they readied to expose you. You could never brace yourself from the sharp teeth of the internet, as they were always ready to tear you both apart. You ducked your head down and cowered behind him as he led you away from the preposterous mall.
He turned around and looked down at you, sternly telling you something. But you don’t pay attention. Instead you chose to ignore him and marvel at the small dog in a stroller. Sure, it was flamboyant in it’s own way, but how could anyone ignore the sight? The dog is a mix between a shih-tzu and something else that you couldn’t quite figure out. You watched as the stroller passed you and headed into the mall, getting lost somewhere in there. “...Are you even listening to me, kitten?” He asked dubiously, raising one of his eyebrows. “Hmm?” You hummed, turning to look at your Daddy. “Sorry, Daddy, there was just a cute dog in a stroller that I saw!” You exclaimed, pouting slightly out of habit. Sebastian took a deep breath before sighing heavily. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried his hardest to not lose his cool.
He had given you a set of rules when your relationship started. They toed at the line of strict and controlling, but after he explained every single kink and reward they were reasonable in your naive, doe-like eyes. You didn’t dare to question them or his authority, knowing that would only end with him engulfing in flames of rage and fury. He had a short temper, one that he had developed over time. Maybe it was the stress and the pressure of his privileged, well-earned life, but you’ll never know. Listening to him was one of those rules, high on the list that he always prioritized over most things. He loathed it when you didn’t listen to him. “I said, go sit and wait in the car. Oh, also, ditch the panties.” He snapped, making you whimper. In the two years of your relationship, you were never fond of his harsh tone. “Yes, Daddy.” You squeaked, walking away to the sleek Jaguar that was parked along with the other luxurious cars. You bit your tongue as you weaved your way through millions of dollars that were on wheels.
You carefully opened the passenger door and sat in the leather seat that had a pink, fluffy blanket covering it. You closed the door and set your small, round, pink Chanel handbag under your seat. Hesitatingly, you reached up your dress and your fingers blindly found your panties. You hooked your thumbs around the lace fabric that was a bit too expensive for your taste. You lifted your lower body up and slowly pulled the fabric down, falling into a jumble at your feet. You struggled to untangle them from your heels, before finally triumphing with a small grunt. You shoved the panties into your purse and bit your lip. Embarrassment gnawed at you as you saw people walking by. But they couldn’t see you at all. The darkly tinted glass was like flimsy armour for you in your eyes. Nobody saw through them, but it still made you feel like you were being watched. Leisurely, you began to get lost in that deep sea of thoughts again.
What would he do? Was he going to take you to another mall? You picked at the ends of your Kate Spade dress. It was fancy, dainty, something a princess would wear once and throw away. It made you look classy and tasteful. Underneath it, though, was a different story. Numerous hickeys, bruises and bite marks littered your skin. The marks made you feel small, submissive and owned. Possessed like a play thing, like his pet. Sebastian loved to see you all marked up, it was like you were his work of art and he was the artist. You shyly spread your legs and felt a sweat beginning to form on your back. Your palms began to sweat too, out of pure nervousness of course. You gripped the seats and sighed, before wiping your hands on the blanket. You looked up and saw Sebastian walking out with two bags in his hands. He clutched the silky handles of the bags and walked in long, harsh strides. A small scowl was on his face, seemingly displeased with the day so far.
He weaved his way through the cars as did you. He harshly opened the door for the driver’s seat as if it wouldn’t cost a fortune to repair. He sat down and sighed, shoving the Tiffany & Co. bag in the backseat. You pouted, feeling the anger radiating off of him like heat. The other bag remained in his hands, but you couldn’t recognize the store name. “Daddy got you a few gifts, okay kitten?” He handed the bag over to you as he spoke. You nodded but didn’t dare to open the bag as he hadn’t given you permission. “Thank you, Daddy!” You giggled, your voice holding innocence He smirked at you and crept his hand up your thigh, slowly but surely. Ring-donned knuckles grazed against your wet folds, bumping up against your swollen, sensitive clit. You let out a whimper at the feeling and slick drooled out of you from his touch.
“Daddy…” You whined, looking down at your lap. “Yeah baby?” He asked, playing dumb to the fact that he was toying with your sensitive pussy. You bit your tongue before you could beg and plead for more. You knew he didn’t like it when you were greedy for more. He pulled his hand away from your pussy and you both admired the way his fingers glistened with your arousal. He shoved the same fingers into your mouth, making you gag and drool. You sucked on them as if you were starved, the sweet yet slightly bitter taste of your slick filling your mouth. He pulled his fingers out with a sounding ‘pop’ that made you giggle. “Good kitten, guess you’re not so dumb after all.” He husked, the mix of praise and degradation making you wetter. He revved the engine of his car and began to pull out of the parking lot, driving ensuite to his Upper Eastside home.
The rumble and vibrations of his car went straight to your pussy, reminding you of the time where he sat you stark-naked on the hood of his car and revved the engine just to tease you. Later that night, he chided and punished you for being a messy little kitten. The vivid, lewd memory made you clench your thighs as you were desperate for some sort of friction. Sebastain’s right hand danced all over your body as his left hand gripped the steering wheel tightly. You both got lucky that afternoon, as rush hour traffic had yet to start. Smoothly, he parked in the private garage that housed some of his other cars. They were all worth more than anything, probably hundreds of thousands of dollars. He led you out of the garage and into the elevator, a sweet jazz tune playing at a low hum that was almost missable. You still held onto the bag that he gifted you and you even dared to try and take a peek inside.
The sparkly tissue hid the gift well from your intrusive, detective eyes. You bounced on your feet as you wondered what it could possibly be. It was slightly heavy, but you partially blamed your weak muscles for that. Sebastian never let you lift a finger when it came to hard work. You barely paid attention to the ding of the elevator as you had reached the floor of his penthouse. Sebastian gently dragged you out, your short steps barely keeping up with his long strides. The click of your heels no longer made a sound as the carpet of the hallways muted them gently. “Now when we get inside, I want you to strip everything and kneel on the floor.” He ordered, voice at a low baritone that made you even wetter. Your noticed that your inner thighs were slightly damp with arousal, your pussy leaking with want.
“Yes, Daddy.” You smiled, easily obeying him. You could already feel the ache in your knees that would come with kneeling on the floor. He opened the door and you swiftly made your way to the bedroom. You swung the door open and was met with the room that you spent most of your time in. Grey hues illuminated under the brightness of the chandelier. You gently kicked your shoes into a corner and quickly shed all your clothes off, gently laying them onto the white divan that was at the feet of your bed. You bit your lip as you wondered whether or not you should take a peak in the bag. But you reminded yourself of the consequences your curiosity always brought you. He knew, he always knew when you let your hands and eyes wandered like tourists in Venice. You hesitatingly set the bag onto the dresser, before clumsily unclasping your pearl necklace. You were out of breath at that point, chest heaving like you had just ran a marathon. You hugged your naked body as you moved back to the divan, kneeling in front of it. On the floor, the fluffy carpet dug into your knees slightly, making you wince.
You looked down at the ground and clasped your hands behind your back. The cool air made goosebumps rise like the dead rising from their graves. Your cunt throbbed with anticipation and neediness, you just couldn’t wait for him. Your heart clamoured wildly as you heard him walk closer to the bedroom, opening the door to be pleased by the sight of you on your knees. “Such a good little kitten.” He praised, loosening the expensive tie around his neck. The blazer of the Armani suit was strewn somewhere in the kitchen and all Sebastian was left with was his dress pants and dress shirt. He rolled his sleeves up as he walked around you, making the hairs on the back of your neck raise. You were undoubtedly nervous for what was about to come. You heard the rustling of the bag from the dresser, the sound reverberating throughout the room. “You’d let Daddy do anything to you, right?” He asked, pulling out the bottle of lube from the bag.
“Of course, Daddy!” You exclaimed, knowing it was another one of his rules. Let daddy do whatever he wants to you. He smirked as he pulled the glittery box out of the bag, carefully setting it down next to the bottle of lube. He grabbed everything else from the bag, leaving only the tissue paper. “Close your eyes, kitten.” He demanded, and you listened easily. You slowled your erratic breaths down and furrowed your eyebrows at a foreign feeling. A headband laid on your head and was tucked behind your ears. Then you felt his hands ghosting around your neck, followed by the feeling of cool leather. Sebastian fastened the collar together and tightened it just enough to have you slightly gasping for air. His hands left your neck and his fingers played with the little bell on the front of the collar.
The sound made you even more confused and lost. But you didn’t dare to open your mouth. “Such a cute little kitten.” He cooed, walking back to the dresser. He hastily opened the box with a loud rip and marvelled at its contents. Headbands, tails, buttplugs, paddles, handcuffs, ball gags, dildo gags, dildos, vibrators, leashes, and nipple clamps of all kinds were at his disposal, all for his little kitten - you. He grabbed the pink leash and unwrapped, it carefully, opening its clasp to attach to your collar. “Now open your eyes, kitten.” He instructed, gripping the leash tightly. You opened your eyes and gasped, panic taking over your body. “Sebastian, what’s this?” You nervously questioned, your bottom lip quivering. The smile on his lips quickly turned into a scowl, as you had broken a rule. Never, ever call him Sebastian. He tugged on the leash harshly, pulling you up. “What the fuck did you just call me?” He growled, clearly in no mood for you to act out.
“S- Sorry, Daddy.” You quickly apologized, terrified of his hell-sent wrath. You hesitatingly reached up to touch the headband. Your eyes went wide as you felt ears that would resemble cat ears. Cat ears, the leash and the collar… You added it all up and gasped as it dawned on you, he was into pet play. “Now listen, kitten. You gotta listen to the rules, and if you don’t listen then I could punish you by ending this little relationship, okay? I know you can’t survive without me, and you should remember that.” He spat, making your throat tighten up with an impending sob. You swallowed it down and nodded, deciding to listen to him. “Good kitten.” He praised, smiling once again. He pushed you down and pulled your ass up into the air, and you let him manhandle you. Your dripping pussy was exposed to him and shame bit you like a snake.
He let go of the leash and walked to the dresser, and for a split second you thought you could have ran away. But as soon as he turned back around, those thoughts went away. The coolness of the lub made you flinch as he poured some onto your ass hole. He carefully spread it around but didn’t bother to warm you up. You shouted when you felt the tip of the tail plug push into your puckered hole. It stretched your ass out painfully and you couldn’t bear the pain. It shot up your spine and made you feel dizzy. You thought you were going to pass out as the large part of the plug forced its way into you. Finally, the excruciating pain stopped increasing. Into died down to a low thrumming and throbbing and soon dwindled into an aching pleasure. You felt full yet empty, which only made you whine pathetically.
“Poor kitten, so desperate for your Daddy, hm?” He snickered, making you shy away from him. Your wetness coated your inner thighs and began to drip from your cunt, the sweet scent of it making him moan. “Before I fuck that tight little pussy of yours, I believe I have to punish you.” He spoke, shrugging his shirt off. You watched from the corner of your eyes as he stripped down to his birthday suit that was always a delectable sight for your eyes only. Your mouth salivated as you saw his large, hard cock in his boxers. You couldn't fight the urge to rub your thighs together at all. The slight friction was euphoric, but it just wasn’t enough. Sebastian picked up the paddle that had the word ‘mine’ engraved on it. He walked back to your bent over form and soothingly rubbed your ass before speaking.
“Count them, and don’t forget to thank me.” He implored, smacking the paddle harshly on your right ass cheek. “One, thank you Daddy.” You squeaked out. He took turns on each cheek, hitting you with the same amount of agonizing strength. Tears streamed down your face as you sobbed after each spank. Your ass was bruised, the word ‘mine’ indented all over it. “Twenty, thank you Daddy!” You whimpered. “You like this, don’t you? Such a good little kitten, all slutty and dripping for your Daddy.” He gently barked, making you nod. His words only added gasoline to the fire that was your shame and arousal. You felt a harsh tug from the leash and suddenly you were on your hands and knees, just like a kitten. Your mascara was leaking, smeared on your face like in those angsty-heartbreak movies.
Sebastian wiped the tears and ruined mascara away, but he only made you l;ook more pathetic than before. He’d love to fuck your beautiful face until you passed out, or to slap your little cheeks until you begged for more. He wanted to break you, to turn you into his little kitten. You gulped down your fear as you waited for what he’d gladly give you next. Your eyes fell to his hard cock, still stuck in its confinement that was his Hugo Boss boxers. They hung right where his intriguing v-line was, the same path that would lead you to your treasure -- his cock. You looked up at him, watching as he sucked his bottom lip between his pearly whites. “Beg for it.” He growled. You knew how much he loved to hear you beg. It made him feel superior, it fed his ego but it made you feel submissive and desperate. But oh, the rewarding praise it would come with was so addictive, like ecstasy.
“Please daddy? I’ll be a good little kitten! I need your big cock daddy, please?” You begged, your voice slightly strained from the screaming and yelling. You looked up at him and unintentionally gave him those puppy eyes that always made him weak in the knees. Glazed over orbs that were slightly sad, begging in their own language that was silence. Sebastian let go of the leash and stalked away from you, keeping his predatory eyes trained on you. You admired the scratches that were stained on his back that your well manicured nails left behind. Just like a kitten. He sits on the bed and crosses his arms, large muscles bulging and the sight makes you whimper -- loudly. You loved the way your small hands would struggle to grip his large biceps as you’d scramble for purchase whilst he’d rail into you.
The phantom feeling of his cock driving in and out of you sparks something inside of you, pushing you into a light, floaty headspace. The loud snap of his fingers made you jump with fear. He pointed at the floor next to him and you furrowed your eyebrows with mystification. You knew he wasn’t going to help you out then, no. You were all on your own. Sebastian raised his eyebrow as he waited for you to crawl towards him, just like how a kitten should. He wasn’t going to help you out, you needed to learn on your own. He longed for you to fully fall into the headspace that would make you all dumb and stupid. He loved to break you, to see you depend on him for everything. “D- Daddy?” You called out, waiting for him to tell you to do something. But he remained as silent as a stone. “Here, kitty, kitty...” The snapping, the pointing, and the waiting… He wanted you to crawl, didn’t he?
You gulped and winced as you put one knee before the other, one hand before the other. You soon met Sebastian's bouncing feet, before looking up at him. All your arousal leaked all over you, and as much as you hated to admit it, the whole thing turned you on even more. The dominance, the degrading, the feeling of needing him, it all made the passionate fire in your abdomen continue to burn. Sebastian turned to face you and ran his thumb across your lips, smearing your saliva around. He pushed his thumb in your mouth and you eagerly sucked on it as if it were his cock. He abruptly pulled it out, making you put. “Nuh uh, none of that.” He chided, feeling his cock stirring in his pants. “Such a good, dumb little kitten. Take daddy’s cock out.” He jeered, and you nearly sobbed. Finally, finally. You swiftly pulled his boxers down, watching as his large cock bounced up and hit his lower abdomen. Thick ropes of pre-cum leaked down the shaft of his cock and you never wanted to suck him off more in your life.
You involuntarily darted your tongue out to lap up all the pre-cum, but a harsh tug on the pink leather leash halted you. “As much as I’d love to stuff your cute, slutty little mouth with my cock, I’m in the mood to fuck you until you’re just a braindead kitten.” He belted, leaving no room for argument or begging. He leans down and captures your lips in a heated, rough kiss. You can barely keep up with the Greek God-esque man. The kiss is dominating; arduous and vehement. His teeth nipped at your wet lips and you whimper into the kiss, only adding gasoline to the fire. He forcefully pushed his tongue into your mouth and you let it explore everywhere. You sucked out it softly, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the burning ache that just seems to only intensify. He pulled away from you all at once and you felt dizzy. Your lips were throbbing and suddenly you’re thrown onto the bed.
You felt the plug push farther into you -- further shocking you as it already was so deep. It grazed against each and every one of your sensitive spots, making you cry out. It was the kind of pleasure that was also painful, but the kind of pain that made you want to be hurt more and more. You wondered if you were a masochist, if Sebastian had turned you into a masochist. But at that time, that was the least of your worries. From the corner of your eyes, you saw the glint from the glittery box that Sebastian had purchased. He flipped you onto your stomach and slowly pulled the tail out, stroking it every now and then. “Ngh.” You moaned out it was pulled out all the way. Sebastian stared at your gaping hole, wishing he could just stick his cock in you and fuck you into oblivion. He could, but he shouldn’t; not yet at least.
You gripped the sheets tightly, silk slightly slipping from your sweaty hands. A gasp flew past your lips as Sebastian puckered his lips and spat on your puckered hole, before rubbing it in. You fought the need to push your hips back against his thumb, slowly pushing into you. The stretch was just as painful as the plug, your poor ass burning. He pulled his thumb back out before grabbing another plug, one that had a pink tail. He swiftly pushed it in and your eyes rolled back into your skull at the feeling. It wasn’t as painful as before, it was actually pleasurable. You swore you lost your vision for a brief second, and even your breath as well as your morals. Well, you lost your morals a long time ago, to be frank.
You felt him stroke the fluffy part of the tail again, almost trying to soothe you. He fiddled with the base of the plug, trying to find the little nub that was supposed to be there. His fingers flipped it and suddenly the plug began to vibrate. Muted, strong vibrations radiated throughout your ass and up your spine, even reaching to your poor little pussy. You moaned pornographically, bucking your hip involuntarily, humping the air. “Aw, poor little kitten is so needy.” He taunted, even though it was the same case for him. He was harder than anything and it was almost painful. Pre-cum leaked from his aching, silky and dripped down to his swollen balls.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled your hips back towards his and grinded his cock against your dripping pussy. You were so wet that you could smell the slightly bitter scent of your arousal in the air. It was muted, faint, but anybody would have noticed. Sebastian grabbed the base of his cock and bumped the silky, bulbous head of his cock against your clit. You cried out, “Please daddy!” But he only turned up the vibrations and continued to rub the tip against your pearl of nerves. His cock teased your drooling hole, and you just couldn’t take it anymore. “Please fuck me, daddy!” You pleaded. Sebastian sheathed his cock into your wet pussy, impaling you. You wheezed as he slowly bottomed out, his cock slightly grazing your cervix.
You didn’t mind it, though. He stayed still, his cock throbbing inside your core. He reached for the pink hitachi wand and turned it on, pressing it onto your poor little clit. You shrieked at the abrupt amount of pleasure, your hand darting down to where the wand was. You held it in place even though your hands were shaking. Your body held a slight tremor and Sebastian began to pound into your pussy. The sound of skin slapping, both of your moans and the obscene squelching from your pussy filled the room. “Oh fuck!” You yelled, feeling your orgasm building up already. “Fuck, so tight.” Sebastian groaned, thrusting into you even harder. His cock kept nudging against your g-spot, each time making you dizzier.
“D- Daddy… Can I cum? Please?!” You squealed, your voice louder than the banging that came from the bed headboard against the wall. “Fuck- No, hold it.” He growled, before moaning loudly, You clenched around his cock, the pleasure pushing you closer and closer to your release. Sebastian watched as your juices coated his cock, glistening with your arousal. “Please daddy?” You begged, knowing all too well that you might pass out if you don’t cum — at least that’s what it felt like. Your pussy squeezed him with all it’s mine, wetness dripping all over the sheets and you struggled to stop screaming. “Oh!” You gasp as he pushed the plug into you deeper. “Yeah, take in deep in your slutty, tight little pussy. You gonna cum, kitten? Such a good little pet!” He shouted, and you wailed. “Cum, cum all over my cock.” He commanded. The dam inside you broke as you came all over his cock, milking him. “Thank you, Daddy!” You mewled, bucking against his cock.
You babbled dumbly as you soon became overstimulated. Sebastian tugged on your leash and the bell on it rang non-stop. You tried to run away from him, the pleasure becoming too much. But you soon found yourself moving back against his cock, fucking yourself. “Poor kitten, can’t take my cock now even though you fuckin’ begged for it.” He spat, his thrusts growing sloppy. Your pussy spasmed as you came for the second time, your vision becoming darker than usual. You fell against the bed but you didn’t relent your grip on the wand. Your body was on fire, heart clamouring at such a rate that you couldn’t calm it down. “Oh fuck…” He groaned, pulling out of your pussy to stave off his orgasm. Your cum dripped from his cock as he flipped you onto your back and spread your legs wide.
Sebastian plummeted his cock back into your pussy and grabbed the sparkly dildo in the box. Before you could ask him what he was about to do, he slowly pushed the dildo alongside his cock. It wasn’t as big as his cock, no, but it was enough to have you screaming at him to stop. You pushed at his hard chest but he didn’t budge. Instead, he growled at you to stop. “...If you don’t listen then I could punish you by ending this little relationship, okay? I know you can’t survive without me, and you should remember that.” His words echoed in your mind like a memory that you wanted to forget but you were always reminded of it. You both moaned once he stopped pushing the dildo into your stretched out pussy. You were sure that he ruined you for anyone else.
He slowly began to thrust both his cock and the dildo in and out of you. His thrusts were slow but sharp and hard, even though they were slightly sloppy. You came for a third time, your mouth falling open as you let out a silent scream. Tears streamed down your cheeks again and you couldn’t take it anymore. “One more, kitten.” He bargained even though you knew you couldn’t object. His cock and the dildo hitting your g-spot over and over, the butt plug, and the hitachi wand were all too much for you. But they all ruined you over and over, and they all made you cum over and over. “Oh- Oh my god! ‘M gonna cum so fucking hard!” You preened, arching your back off the bed. You unintentionally pressed the hitachi wand harder against your clit, only intensifying your orgasm.
You gushed around Sebastian’s cock as thick, white, hot ropes of cum painted your walls. His cock pulsed in your pussy as he continued to fill you up. Shockwaves were sent throughout your body and you left the conscious world for a few seconds — making a quick trip to heaven. Or hell. Sebastian pulled out and watched as his cum followed both his cock and the dildo. Your sore hole gaped slightly, all fucked out and ruined. He turned the vibrators off and you curled up into a ball. You slowly descended from your powerful high, sighing heavily. You shut your eyes as you ushered Sebastian to cuddle you. But he just chuckled like a sadist. “Oh no kitten, did you think we were done?”
#Sebastian Stan#Seb Stan#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan imagines#dark sebastian x reader#seb stan smut#sebastian stan angst#sebastian stan fluff#sebastian stan headcanons#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x reader smut#sebastian stan x reader fluff#sebastian stan x you smut#sebastian stan sugar daddy#sugar daddy!sebastian stan#sugar daddy!sebastian stan x reader#dark!seb#dark!sebastian stan#dark!sebastian stan and reader#dark!sebastian stan x reader#dark!seb stan
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heartbroken
order 003 for anon: a large banana milk tea with strawberry popping boba for treasure’s Yedam
Warnings: angst, crying, explicit language, threats, violence
Summary: where Yedam is the badboy! at school and he has a soft spot for you ^-^ you somehow end up as his tutor and.. yeah :")
[a/n]: idk why it's so hard for me to imagine Yedam as a bad boy??? i hope i wrote this well T.T i love the badboy! concept tho hehe so i loved this,, aLSO I'M SORRY FOR SACRIFICING JEONGWOO LIKE THIS JEONGWOO ILY <3 i feel like i kind of unconsciously wrote Yedam as resembling Han Seo Jun from True Beauty hmmmm also i’ve been listening to a lot of Kang Daniel lately and am falling hard for that man so if you see this pls send Kang Daniel pics thx ily
"Everyone move the fuck aside and let me through," Yedam growls, speaking to the crowd that's blocking the classroom door. No one listens so he barges through, pushing people down to the ground if he has to just to get to class.
He doesn't care about why they've all gathered, or the poor student that has fainted at the door. He simply sits at his desk, props his feet up and closes his eyes to take a nap as all the students wonder what they should do.
"Yedam, what the hell?! Now is not the time for sleeping. A student has fainted and all you do is push people aside so you can nap at your desk?"
Yedam opens his eyes and pushes up the shades he's wearing. No one has ever spoken to him like this before, and even the students tending to the fainted person are shocked overhearing this. A relatively quiet student yelling at Yedam?
Who's this? Yedam wonders to himself, staring you up and down. He catches a glimpse of your name tag: [y/n]. I've never met this person- ... oh.
The one memory with you that he remembers: him falling off the top of the soccer goal post in an empty field just last year after class had already ended; you leaving the library and finding him there. Despite being scared of him and wanting to just leave, you approached him and gave him a piggy back all the way to the nearest hospital. He remembers the searing pain in his leg and how fast you tried to run, the wind blowing your hair in all directions as you shouted words of comfort into the wind: "It's gonna be okay! We'll get to the hospital soon, I promise."
When he later told his friend, Haruto about it, Haruto said, "I would've left you there and never looked back."
Even though Yedam knew he was joking, he can't forget how kind your actions were that day.
Is this why he isn't getting mad at you even though you're yelling in his face?
"Just let me take a nap," is all he says to you, sliding his sunglasses back down on his face. You shake your head at him before leaving the classroom, rushing to tell the teacher about the fainted student.
From that day, Yedam decides he won't leave you alone. For what reason? No one knows, not even him.
-
"Sir!"
"Yes, Yedam, what is your question?" the teacher asks, turning around from the blackboard to face the class.
"Can I change my seat?" Yedam asks.
The class laughs until Yedam shoots a glare in everyone’s direction.
"We're in the middle of a mathematics lesson, Yedam. Talk to me about it later."
"It's an emergency!"
"What's the emergency?"
"I need to sit here," Yedam says, getting up from his spot and walking to the seat on your right, tapping his fingers on the desk.
"And why's that?" the teacher asks, crossing his arms.
"Because... it's closer to the blackboard?"
Your heart is nervously racing throughout this interaction. Never in a million years would you want Yedam, the school's most renowned bad boy to sit beside you. Never.
"You've been sitting in the back for years. What's the problem?" the teacher asks.
"There's a problem. Very big one."
Yedam sits on the desk of that innocent student, sitting on their notes and crossing his arms.
"Yedam, can we talk about this later-"
"Nope. Hey... Junkyu? Can you move to my spot?" Yedam asks the student. One fierce glare from him is enough to get the student to pack up and clear the desk out.
"See? problem sorted," Yedam tells the teacher, sitting at his new spot beside you.
The teacher worriedly looks at you, noticing your discomfort.
"Well, we need to hurry on with the lesson so we'll talk about this later, okay?" the teacher explains, looking at both you and Yedam.
For the rest of the lesson, Yedam does nothing but stare at you. You don't look at him, not even once, but you can feel his eyes on you. It makes you lose focus, even though you're trying your best to take notes.
He's memorizing all of your features. the curve of your nose and lips, the colour of your eyes and how they look in the sunlight. He doesn't know why, but he just wants to look at you.
Finally, when the lesson ends and the teacher asks both of you to follow him to his office, you slam your arms down on your desk and glare at Yedam.
"Can you stop staring at me? I haven't been able to focus and you're making me uncomfortable!" you yell, silencing the chatter of the classroom.
Yedam gulps.
"I can't focus either, cause of you," Yedam says with a wink, resting his head on his palm.
You cough, shocked at his words.
"What are you saying?" you choke out.
"Let's go to the teacher's office. Whatever he says, tell him you're helping me with my studies so I need to sit beside you."
"And if I don't?" you challenge Yedam.
Yedam simply glares at you with his sharp eyes and you decide to comply.
As he lopes out of the class in a relaxed manner, you rush along behind him. In the teacher's office, you sit beside one another and across from your teacher, who sighs before he speaks.
"Yedam, I can tell [y/n] is uncomfortable with your actions. They don't want to be sitting beside you so please go back to your usual spot for the next class, okay?"
The teacher only speaks to Yedam, not even looking in your direction or asking for your opinion. You understand his intentions, but it still upsets you a little...
Yedam looks at you instead, an expectant expression on his face. Although you find him extremely annoying, his look is enough encouragement to get you to speak, even though you're about to say a bunch of lies.
"But sir, I've actually been helping Yedam with his studies these days," you croak out, gaining more confidence with each word you speak.
"Have you?" the teacher asks, raising his brow.
"They have, and you'll be seeing my improved grades soon," Yedam says, nudging you with a smirk.
"Well... if that's true, then alright. I'd better see those improved grades," the teacher says.
Yedam bites his lip while grinning, clearly glad that he'll be allowed to sit with you. On the other hand, you sigh. Who knows what kind of trouble this will bring for you...
-
After that meeting, the two of you sit beside one another in your next class. You feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest as Yedam stares at you from your right. The rest of the class has their eyes on you, too, wondering why Yedam is still sitting beside you.
"Can you please... stop staring at me," you whisper under your breath.
"I don't want to," Yedam says with a smile, continuing to look at you while his head is being held up by his palm, elbow propped up on his desk.
"I bet that [y/n] somehow seduced Yedam. They may look quiet, but they might be the slyest person on this planet," a classmate suggests from behind you.
Yedam's chair screeches backwards from beside you and he stands up, his arms swinging slightly at his sides.
"What the fuck did you just say?" Yedam asks, turning around to the classmate who was speaking nonsense. His face looks extremely angry - you've never seen him like this before.
The classmate puffs up their chest, trying to look stronger than they really are.
"I said [y/n] seduced you! And what?"
"You idiot," Yedam hisses, taking a few strides forward and smacking them in the face.
Instead of fighting back, the classmate doesn't budge. They have their head down, slowly reaching their hand up to their injured cheek.
Yedam crouches down to the seated student to meet their eyes.
"[y/n] never seduced me and never will. We've all been classmates for so long, you still can't recognize one another? Stop the bullshit. If I hear this again, it'll be more than your face that'll be harmed, you hear me?"
"Yedam, that's enough," you say, tugging at the back of his uniform blazer.
He finally turns around after a while, greeting you with such a bright smile that you wonder if he's forgotten everything that just happened.
"So, [y/n], are you gonna help me study or what?" Yedam asks you, returning to his seat."
"What do you mean?" you ask, confused.
"The teacher is expecting improved grades, so of course we should show him that, shouldn't we?"
The way Yedam tilts his head to one side while smiling at you makes your breath falter for a second.
"I-I guess we should," you stutter. Why are you suddenly getting so nervous around a jerk like Yedam? No but firstly, why is he being so nice to you?
"Okay, everyone! Class is starting, get to your- what happened to Jeongwoo?" the teacher asks, pointing to the classmate who Yedam smacked.
Jeongwoo's cheek is red and he has some ice pressed up against it.
"Got hit by a baseball. He's never paying attention to the right things," Yedam says, shaking his head.
The teacher thankfully shrugs things off. If not, Yedam would have been in deep trouble.
You release the breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding and Yedam pokes you with the eraser end of his pencil.
“Library after school today, okay?” he whispers. You nod.
-
Yedam watches you neatly pack up your things with his arms crossed, unconsciously smiling at the way you make sure everything is in the right part of your bag before you sling it over your shoulders and declare that you’re ready to go.
“You don’t mind taking a motorbike ride real quick, do you?” Yedam asks, glancing at you as the two of you walk down the hallway.
Shit. You’d forgotten that Yedam has a motorbike and takes the thing everywhere with him. Even though you’re a little scared to ride it with him, if that’s what he’s suggesting, you’re more scared to say ‘no’ to Yedam, so you simply nod.
Yedam is quick to notice the way you gulp, though, and how you nervously fidget with your hands as you walk, taking shaky steps.
They’re nervous... he tells himself. I’d better treat them well.
-
Yedam hands you his spare helmet. When you hesitate to take it from him, he places it over your head himself, knocking on it to show how protective it is.
“In case anything happens, I promise I won’t let you get hurt, okay?” he tells you, holding out his pinkie finger.
You let out a scoff at his unexpected childishness, but still loop your pinkie around his.
“I’m not scared, you know,” you exert, swinging your right leg around the motorbike as you take a seat behind Yedam.
“Sure.”
Before you can even blink, Yedam starts the motorbike and whizzes off. You’re forced to wrap your arms tightly around him out of fear, and he smiles under your warm embrace.
“You can just grab onto my blazer instead, you know,” he yells into the wind. You hear him, but pretend you didn’t. You’re too scared to move your hands right now.
After getting over some of the fear, you raise your head and admire the moving blue sky above you, the way the trees stand at the edge of the skyline and how the wind seems to surge through your veins as well as directly through you.
You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until Yedam tells you, helping you get off the bike. Regaining your senses, you stare at the glass building in front of you.
“Yedam... why are we here?” you ask him in shock. This mans really brought you to the library that’s on the other side of the city.
“I just wanted to enjoy a fun bike ride with you,” he mumbles, walking up the steps to the library.
Once the two of you find a spot, you don’t waste any time in getting right to work.
“So... what subject do you struggle with the most?”
“[y/n],” he mumbles.
“What?”
“Uh... math.”
“Okay... let’s get started with that, then.”
As you talk, Yedam loses focus, getting lost in the sweet tone of your voice, the way your hands move as you talk, and your precious lips.
“Yedam? What’s the answer to this question?” you ask, pointing to the equation you’ve written on the paper before you.
“Uh... I don’t know,” he admits.
You sigh.
“I just explained to you how you should solve this! Did you not understand or were you not listening?”
“Um... I kind of just want to kiss you right now,” Yedam mumbles under his breath, smiling up at you with a slightly reddened face.
“What? Yedam, you’ve been mumbling all day today and it’s been scaring me.”
“Scaring you? No no, I don’t mean to scare you-”
Both of your phones vibrate on the desk and you glance at one another. You check yours and find out it’s a message from the class groupchat.
Jeongwoo: guys guys! [y/n] and Yedam are at the library across town studying together! i’m telling you, something is up...
Junkyu: says who?
Jeongwoo: sent a photo.
When you look at the photo, it’s of you and Yedam at the very desk you’re sitting at right now. Suddenly, you feel anxious. Has someone been following you? For how long?
Yedam: whichever one of you hoes is following us better fucking stop before i show up at your house and set it on fire. istg please leave us the FUCK ALONE!
Jeongwoo: shit i didn’t mean to send this to the class groupchat...
Yedam slams his phone down and looks carefully around the library.
“I found him,” he whispers before getting up and running across the library. You try to follow his trail and find someone wearing your school uniform running away with Yedam chasing closely behind.
If a fight breaks out because of you, you won’t be able to forgive yourself... you rush after them and follow them to the parking lot, which is luckily quite busy. You know Yedam won’t start a fight in such a busy place...
“You asshole, did Jeongwoo set you up to this?” Yedam grunts, grabbing your classmate by his collar.
“N-no.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Yedam growls.
“Guys, please stop! This parking lot is full of people-”
“Leave me alone!” the boy yells at the top of his lungs. People start to stare and Yedam lets go of his collar, dusting himself off. The veins on his neck are visible, showing his anger.
“If you do anything like this again, you’ll be in for it,” Yedam says to the boy before he runs away.
“[y/n], I’m so sorry-”
“Yedam, if this is what it’s gonna be like for me to help you study then I don’t want to do it!”
“I know, but-”
“Yedam, I’m scared,” you admit, starting to tear up slightly.
Yedam doesn’t know what to do, so he just sadly watches you as you cover your face and try not to cry. Then, you feel his arms around you as he presses his body against yours.
“I’m sorry, [y/n], I just... I’m sorry for putting you in this situation but I just... wanted to spend some time with you and-”
“You call this spending time with me?!” you sob into his chest.
“I’ll make them pay...”
“No, Yedam. I’ve had enough of your revenge and violence and... I just want to go back to my quiet life. Even a day spent like this has been too much for me.”
Yedam pulls away and steps back.
“I’ll pack up my stuff from the library. Please don’t talk to me ever again.”
As you walk away, Yedam silently watches you, hating himself for the fact that his heart is breaking. Why is his heart breaking?
-
The next day, Yedam is in his usual spot somewhere behind you in class, trying to sleep with his head on the desk but being unable to because you still haven’t shown up and he’s worried.
The same thing happens the next day.
And the next.
And the next.
At this point, you haven’t shown up for a week and Yedam is incredibly worried. He’s tried texting and calling you, but you haven’t replied. So he storms into the teachers’ office, demanding for your home address so he can visit you.
The teachers refuse for privacy reasons, but Yedam says he won’t leave the office until they give it to him, so they reluctantly do.
“You better not be going to bother [y/n] in any way, but to truly just visit them.”
“Do I look like I would bother [y/n]?”
“Yes.”
Yedam scoffs, leaving the office with your address in his hands. He leaves the school right then and there too, not caring about the rest of his classes for that day.
After an hour of getting lost on his motorbike searching for your home, he finally finds it. Slightly sweaty and incredibly tired, he knocks on your door, praying that you’ll open it.
“Who is it?” you sleepily ask, opening the door. Your first reaction is to slam the door shut as soon as you see Yedam, but he stops you.
“Please, [y/n],” he begs. “I’ve been searching for your house for an hour and I’m so tired... just let me in.”
Your pure and wholesome soul can’t say no to this, so you invite him in, quickly bringing him a glass of water.
“Why haven’t you been at school?”
“I think you know why,” you say, sitting on the couch next to Yedam’s.
“Because of me?”
You nod.
Yedam sighs.
“[y/n], you shouldn’t stop coming to school because-”
“The kids have stopped talking about us now, right? So I’ll come back, don’t worry.”
“Ah... right,” Yedam says with a sigh, running his hand through his hair.
“Why are you even... here?” you ask him.
“To check on you?” he says in a sarcastic tone, as if it should be obvious.
“Why?”
“Because I-” like you. He almost says it but stops himself, knowing that now is not the right time but also because what the heck?! He likes you?! Since when?! These feelings have been growing so fast on their own that Yedam can’t even keep up with them.
“Because?” you urge him.
“I was worried. Am I not allowed to be here?”
“That’s the thing, I don’t get why you would be worried.”
The truth is, you’re suspecting Yedam has developed feelings for you. You’re hoping it isn’t true, but you need to know. So you’re trying to get him to confess.
“I like you, [y/n], okay?! I know now isn’t the time but you keep putting so much pressure on me and I just...”
Your heart works harder than normal in your chest to keep blood flowing, and you wonder why. It’s not like you like Yedam or anything... right?
“I’m sorry, [y/n]. I’ll leave now,” he says, standing up and grabbing his helmet from where he left it at his feet.
Your heart races as you wonder if you should decide to do that thing you’re thinking about... should you... kiss him?
Ah, you don’t even like this jerk! Why would you do that?!
Exactly, why would you...? Why are you even considering this-
Before you know it, your body is moving on its own as you pull Yedam towards you and connect your lips to his. The sound of his helmet hitting the floor doesn’t hinder you from deepening the kiss as you realize that heck... maybe you really do like Yedam. Why else would you have butterflies?! You wouldn’t get butterflies from kissing someone you hate! Like you wouldn’t get butterflies from kissing trump-
okay sorry, i’ve lost myself here but i’m trying to say
the way Yedam is giving you butterflies is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, and the way he wraps his arm around your lower back, holding you close makes you...
Yedam pulls away, panting slightly.
“[y/n], what the fuck?”
“Yedam... I think I like you, too.”
“You think?” Yedam teases you, grinning.
“What was that for, then?” he asks, pointing to his lips.
“Shut up,” you say, walking past him and purposely bumping into his shoulder.
He grabs your arm and whirls you back around to face him.
“Just how the heck did we end up liking each other?” he asks you. But after looking at you for even a second, he knows. You’re beautiful, and he realized this the day you helped him when he was injured in that empty school field.
I guess for you, somehow this idiot made his way into your life, and his repeated efforts to win your love somehow rubbed off on you. But still, no one can make your heart race like Yedam does.
-
“[y/n] is back!”
“Yedam is sitting next to [y/n] again?”
“Are they holding hands?!”
You and Yedam sit side by side in class, discreetly holding hands under the desk while sharing earbuds. Sure, the whole class will probably talk and spread rumours about you dating Yedam, but who cares? You’ve found someone you love now, and that’s all that matters.
“Okay, class, let’s start the lesson,” the teacher says, only stopping to show a thumbs up and a wink in your and Yedam’s direction.
“What was that?” you ask Yedam, who smiles.
“I guess he’s showing his support for our newfound relationship?”
#treasure imagines#treasure scenarios#yedam imagines#yedam scenarios#bang yedam#yedam x reader#yedam x you#badboy!yedam#badboy!yedam x reader#treasure#yedam#treasure au#badboy!yedam au#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop au#treasure yedam au#treasure yedam imagines#treasure yedam scenarios#yedam fics#yedam angst#treasure angst
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Okay so umm it's 14th Feb here so it's already Valentine's Day!! It's nothing much but I just wanna show some appreciation to several mutuals that I've been talking to!! I don't tag all my moots I'm sorry T-T but these ppl are the ones that I interact with the most. Heads up its gonna be so fcking long.
Here's a love letter for you guys <33
@iz-ana - Sarabi my twin flame <33 bb i remembered me asking u why u followed me gszgxyx and u said its bcs of my vibes. just for u to know, i appreciate ur existence in my life like fr. u also the kind of person that comes to check up on ur moots if u don't see their posts AND PLS I WILL CRY bcs i just felt cared for T-T. I love our conversations bout TR theories, drabbles and thoughts about them (PLS I LOVE YESTERDAY'S BRAINSTORM THE MOST) AND THE WAY WE'RE PROTECTING IZANA . i sucks at writing love letter here shush but do know i appreciate you popping in my notifs and ur dms always gave me lots of serotonin. and hajsheyd just adding here i love how u are like "encouraging" me more to be a bitch to those who messed with my irl friends. what did u call me again- AH "scary dog privilege" bye hskxhxnx i love chatting with u bcs our convo can starts with a matured aura but then randomly we go into crack mode lmaoooo then kaboom espresso depresso bcs we missed izana :( ily okie don't stop shining!!!
@sanzu-sanzu-sanzu - ANRI, MY FELLOW HORROR MOVIES/STORIES ETHUSIAST! okay so we don't really interact much these days bcs we're both busy with outside life yes yes BUT I AM REALLY REALLLLLYYY HAPPY that we got to bond over our love on horror stuffs. and i'm really happy that you take my Thai horror movie suggestions for your to add into you to watch list. i followed u back then bcs of the Songs for the Toxic People fics and i don't remember when u followed me back lmaooo but u were the 3rd followers of mine AND i remembered our first interaction was me asking how u incorporated arts into ur story. always happy that u appreciate my barking in the reblogs lmaooo. just remember that u are talented okay? anri, u are one of the softest, gentle person i ever known and even if u are older than me istg i will squish u if we ever meet. and i'm gonna be part of ur protection squad <33 yhanks for existing in my life
@roczdust - DEI MY CRACK PARTNER!! my dude pls step on me u are literally stunning😭💕 and anddddd let me tell u, ur writings??? IMMACULATE. i first followed u due to that vulnerable drug addict Sanzu i remembered that but my first read was the Kaku's sniper s/o!! i hadn't manage to go thru all ur series yet due to uni and a certain grade a a-hole prof BUT I'M ON A BREAK SO I WILL GO TRHU EVERYTHING. PLS EXPECT THE BARKINGS IN TAGS. OH OH EVERYONE!! IF U GUYS WANNA READ ANGST, CRACKS FICS, EVEN POEMS PLS GO TO DEI'S WRITING ACC RIGHT HERE @rozcdust THEY HAVE SO SOOO MANY GOOD UNGOING/FINISHED SERIES!! my fave one forever gonna be Sanzu's and i don't accept other criticism. OH AND I REALLY DO APPRECIATE UR EXISTENCE IN MY LIFE FRFR I LOVE UR CRACK HEADEDNESS IN THE CJATS AND THE WAY WE BOTH FORGOT TO REPLY TO EACH OTHERS TEXTS LOLOL ILY PLATONICALLY pls do take care of urself n dms always open if u need me or wanna ask stuffs!!
@arosora - AVAAAAAAAA <33 i don't think u gonna expect this but hajshsjz PLS yes we don't talk too much since we just started being moots a week or two ago(?) BUT i like that u randomly popped into my inbox after the message i sent in ur gform lmaoooo <33 AND!!!! AND THEN WE FOUND OUT THAT WE'RE BOTH COSPLAYERS?!?!?! PLS THE CONVO STARTS BEING ME SIMPING OVER YOU (praise the lord i can't get ur wakasa cosplay outta my head) PLS PLS PLS TAKE CARE OF URSELF AND UR HEALTH!!! if one day i'm able to travel, i'll definitely go and visit u and we can go to a con together!! i stalked both ur cosplay tiktok n insta hhh and pls i'm dying over each cosplay. they're so so soooooo good <33 ALSO LISTEN UP EVERYONE!!! AVA HAS A WAKASA SERIES THAT YA'LL MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN!!! SHE'S DEPICTING WAKASA'S PERSONALITY LIKE MIKEY! (with the dark impulses) she's currently on hiatus due to a con BUT YES DO GIVE IT A READ ISTG!! oh and ava, take care at the con n take care of ur health <33 thank u for existing <33
@p-antomime - KIKI, MY PIE, MY SOULMATE, MY WIFE, MY EVERYTHING, THE MAIN CHARACTER IN MY LIFE. Ik u know this BUT i will tell u over and over again. U are talented. don't let others bring u down just bcs they're jealous of ur talent. don't be sad of not being chosen for performances bcs that's just bs (who knows if the chosen ones actually bribed the instructors/j) just unleash ur talent bitch don't hide it in. again ik u know this but i love you🙄❤️ yes i do bully u a lot but take it as affections will ya? and andddd i really realllllyyy love our conversations. i love the way u just stop typing and let me rant bout my cats and the shitty day i had. i REMEMBERED that message when u hit 2k followers, u were so soooo happy and i am so happy that u texted ME to tell bout it. andddd ah what else.. Oh kiki u are one oblivious person pls 😔✋it's funny that u still don't get the idea of my bday gift to u although it's literally written in the convo. u are a dumbass but u are my dumbass so ily -_- bitch if u didn't followed me back then, fr i would had missed my chances to interact with u and thus i really appreciate ur random follow (heads up ur my first follower bye) n ur existence in my life <33 oh and our convos always somehow ended up being fruity bye ur theatre kid ass ain't straight don't try to act like one -_-
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY I LOVE YOU GUYS <33
#[🐨sei celebrates! Valentine's Day]#to others happy VDay too have a good one#even if u are single on dis day 🌹🌹here's roses for u#and no u guys aren't single on this day#u guys are my Valentine's date
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Keeping a Secret - Prologue
plot: ehehe lemme leave this blank for now as this is only a prologue genre: fluff, crack, slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, angst at some point wc: 2.7k
[a/n]
I am reeling just from finishing this one because Tsukki is my boy (Kuroo ily too i swear)
Who writes 2.7k words of prologue? lol me
I’ll set up the masterlist when I’m done with the 1st Chapter.
Thank you so much @oii-sugasan and @haikyuu-is-for-lovers for the betaread! :)
Let me know if you wanna be tagged
Chapter 1 || masterlist
You aren’t just annoying. You’re a fucking menace. Every time he goes to the gym, your presence is like a plague. You're just a manager, but sometimes he thinks that you think you’re the assistant coach. There’s nothing he’d love more than to shower you with the nastiest, most off-handed comments, just to shut you up and wipe the cheery grin that taunts him every time he sees you.
Seriously, you’re all over the place -- you talk to all members of the team as if you’re a player yourself, you nag everyone to take care of themselves outside training like you’re their older sister, you hand out self-gathered information on upcoming matches as soon as matchups are announced, you scamper around the gym tossing balls, assembling the net, doing whatever the hell you can get your hands on, all the while wearing those stupid shorts that distract the majority of the team, especially the new members.
As his eyes follow you, you suddenly turn around to face him, breaking him from his reverie. Even when you’re halfway across the gymnasium, he can see the sharp playfulness that you always exude whenever you talk to him.
“Tsukishima!” You wave at him with that disgustingly sweet grin. “If you’re done staring at my sexy back, you can start your blocking drills, okay?!” you shout with a voice loud enough for everyone else in the gym to hear. Tsukishima feels multiple sets of eyes glance towards his direction and he ‘tsks’ in annoyance under his breath.
He immediately walks away. He refuses to hear more of the unnecessary and untrue prattles directed at him by you.
He hears footsteps follow him. Judging from its pace and heavy strides, he already knows its Kogane without even looking
“Oi, Tsukki. Do you like our manager?”
He doesn’t understand why Kogane is whispering when you’re half a court away from them. More than that, he doesn’t understand why Kogane assumes he likes you. For one, you were wrong: he wasn’t even staring at you. He was staring randomly at nothing while thinking about how irritating you are and you just happened to be at his line of sight.
“I don’t see anything to like about her,” he replies passively.
“What? Why? She’s super helpful -- and pretty too.” Kogane, just like the rest of the team, believes so. Even Kyoutani is fond of you because of that one time you received his spike on full force. You rolled on your back from the sheer power of it but you were able to receive it perfectly, making the whole team go wild when you did, with him as the only exception as he found it inane.
“If you think so, go confess or something then.”
“You know we can’t!” Pink stains begin to surface on his teammate’s cheeks, obviously infatuated with you. Then again, this is not new to him. It was a basic reaction from anyone whose dick is more functional than their brain. Maybe it’s because you’re the only female so close to everyone else. Honestly, he really doesn’t know. But one thing’s for sure. Kogane has 0 chances with you, and neither does every player of Sendai Frogs.
He remembers the conceitedness you displayed even in your first year as a manager. You two became part of the team almost at the same time. He was two months in when the former manager introduced you to the team. As she finished introducing you, you whispered to her to add something. It went something like ‘oh, umm. y/n-chan also said that no one from the team can’t date her.’ Even the former manager looked at you weirdly but you were just there beaming as you bowed to everybody.
They thought it was a joke, but when you became a full-pledged manager in less than six months, you announced it yourself.
‘I know I’m kind of cute, but I won’t ever consider dating anyone from the team. Okay?’
You announce it with a sickening smile every time there are new members, reminding everyone else that you’re untouchable.
It’s fucking atrocious, to him at least. Unlike the other players from his team, he’s not shallow enough to fancy you just because you’re not disgusting to look at, or that you did your managerial duties so exceedingly well.
He grits his teeth. He hates it. How can someone so chaotic as you be so effective in managing the team. What grinds him even more is that you go to the same university he does, and even there, your presence stinks. He once had a class with you only to find out that you’re not as dumb as you make yourself out to be.
It’s infuriating. He can’t wait for the day you mess up -- only then would he finally get the chance to diss you. He’ll turn that shit-eating smile of yours upside down.
--
Man, nothing boosts your mood better than bugging Tsukishima. When you felt his sinister stare boring at your back earlier, you just couldn’t waste the opportunity to say something about it. He just ignored you, but the scowl on his face was enough response to satisfy you.
The truth is, you have nothing against Tsukishima. Yeah, he has a sharp tongue and a vile attitude, but hey, he’s a good team player. He doesn’t speak much, but he gets shit done in matches. Despite his foul personality, he’s actually manageable: he listens to you and he rarely shows up late. He’s not particularly motivating to look at, but he still does what’s asked of him. For some reason that you don’t know, he still hasn’t spat out his usual, rancid remarks towards you. You know he’s itching to, and honestly, you’re kind of curious of what he’ll throw your way.
Still, for the last three years he kept his mouth shut even though he looks at you like you’re the most unpleasant being he’s ever laid eyes on.
“Y/n!”
You jog towards the team coach, Coach Mira. “Yes, Coach?”
“Do you like Tsukishima?” she asks curiously. The question is funny to you but you hold back the laughter and smile instead.
You like Coach Mira a lot. She’s more like an older sister than a coach to you. You’re free to share a few laughs with her, and she values your input to the team. Maybe it’s because you’re both women drowned in a sea of male athletes that you sort of have that innate connection.
“No, Coach. Why?”
“Cause you pay attention to him the most.”
“I don’t see what’s to like about him,” you veer your gaze towards his direction, watching his scowling face as he walks away, Koganegawa following closely behind him. You can’t hear them, but the sight is already amusing as it is. “I just like putting him in place whenever he’s being extra nasty,” you add.
“If you say so, y/n. Honestly, I don’t really care if you go out with one of them.”
You wave your hand back and forth like you’re swatting a fly. “No way, Coach. They’re like little boys I’m taking care of.”
She sweeps her gaze behind you, scanning all the players present in the court. “Can’t say they feel the same way though.” Then she looks at the same person you’re looking at. “Well, maybe except for Tsukishima.”
“That’s why I like messing around with him the most,” you admit with mirth as you watch Tsukishima get away from Kogane.
--
Everyone in the gymnasium is staring as they enter the arena. If there’s one thing opposing teams remember about the Sendai Frogs, it’s their female tandem of a stone-cold coach and a ‘hot,’ bubbly manager who walk side by side in front of the whole team, not the players.
It’s not really an issue for Tsukishima. He doesn’t really care. Shimizu had the same reputation back in high school. But you? You’re not Shimizu. You aren’t even close.
And you, being the chaotic mess that you are, you milked the attention. Whenever someone blatantly gapes at you, you’d wave at them. You’d even entertain those who openly flirted with you. In retrospect, he should find it despicable. Rather finds it entertaining. So does the rest of the team.
When the Sendai Frogs reach their spot, a guy wearing a Tamaden Elephants jersey approaches you shamelessly. A brave (maybe a little bit foolish) act, considering you’re with the whole team.
“Hi!”
You turn around and greet him just as enthusiastically, maybe even more.
“I just want to say, great game from last season, he says as he scratches the back of his head.
Liar.
If the guy really wants to acknowledge the team’s play from last season, he’d approach one of the players. He also wouldn’t have that stupid blush on his awe-struck face.
“Thank you! Great game indeed,” you return the compliment.
As soon as the guy starts fidgeting, Tsukishima can already guess what comes next: it’s either a date or your number.
“If you don’t mind, can I get your number?”
Tsukishima sneers at how predictable the scene is, and he can’t wait to see what comes next.
You beam at the guy. “Sure! It’s number 1.”
He still smiles even though he’s obviously dumb-founded. “Sorry, what?”
“My number, right? It’s 1. Cause we’re number 1 in the district,” You say with that fake innocence that isn’t really fooling anyone.
“...Uhh.”
“Go Sendai Frogs!” You cheer out of the blue and as if an automated response, the rest of the team, even Tsukishima (though lifelessly), answers.
“Sendai Frogs fight!”
The loud baritone of deep male voices drew the attention of other people in the area, brightening your face up even more as you focus on the guy in front of you again. He looks scandalized by what just happened.
“How about you? What’s your number?” you ask, pushing the guy to a mental corner as Tsukishima and his team glares at him while waiting for how he’ll answer. An embarrassed blush replaces the previously infatuated one as he realizes that he shouldn’t have made the mistake of hitting on you.
“I-I’m not really sure,” his voice loses any shred of confidence it once had.
“Oh. That’s too bad,” you feign sympathy.
“Yeah.” The guy looks down. “Guess I’ll see you around,” he adds before retreating defeatedly.
“Bye! Nice to meet you,” you wave cordially. ‘Whoever you are, newbie elephant,’ you say to yourself as you watch the unfamiliar member of the Elephants go back to his team, a team you wiped the floor with last season.
Until now, you don’t understand why people still even bother. You welcomed the flirtations, but never really went out with anybody. You’re not really opposed to getting in a relationship, but like -- Gooood! They’re all so uninteresting. Rejecting them is more fun than the mere prospect of dating them.
You feel a familiar touch on your shoulder.
“Good job boosting the team morale,” Coach Mari says in a volume that only you can hear as she pats you.
“Thanks, Coach!” You grin at her praise.
You turn around to check your players and your eyes instantly land on Tsukishima who had just put on his white headphones and began scrolling at his phone. Around him, everyone else has already started stretching.
You bounce your way to him, knowing that you’d instantly get his attention even without saying anything. But even with you ogling when you stopped in front of him, he still doesn’t budge.
“Tsukishima.”
No response.
‘Heh,’ you snicker internally. He never fails to amuse you when he tries to ignore you.
“Tsu~ ki~ shi~ ma~” You bob your head sideways, popping at the opposing sides of his phone so he’ll notice you.
You don’t miss the minute twitch of his eyes as he drags his phone closer to him in an attempt to shut you out.
Tsk tsk. He should know better by now that you're not the type to back away.
You go beside him instead, tiptoeing so you can see what he’s so busy looking at. As soon as your arms touch his, he puts down his phone and irritatedly removes his headphones.
He’s shooting daggers at you, making you giddy with excitement as he looks like he’s about to say something you. You hold his gaze with a raised eyebrow and subtle smirk that you couldn’t suppress. Did he get fed up already? Is he finally going to say something?
‘Do it. Do it. Do it,’ you chant in your head.
He takes in a painful deep breath instead. “What?” The single word contains so much disdain that you want to cackle so bad.
“Shouldn’t you be stretching?” you query.
“In a bit.”
You leisurely shake your head with disapproval. “I know you’re a lazy ass fucker sometimes,” you begin. “But you always help us win. You’re our meanest, tallest, best blocker.” Your gaze drops down to his ankles and travels up.
“So,” you continue, dropping your voice amusedly, “stretch those gorgeous, God-given, legs you have.” Your eyes linger on his thighs before landing up to his face to smile sweetly at him. “Will you?”
This is one of the moments you’re pretty sure he won’t dare talk back at you. Why? Because you’re one hundred percent right, and he knows that too.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t hate it.
He glares at you for one second and walks towards the rest of the team to join them.
--
Playing at the professional level, he always considers one match to be a big win already, even if it’s just the first match of the regular rounds. Ever since he became a starter for Sendai Frogs, he was not allowed to slack off even for one rally. He could take the lecture if it’s from Coach, but he couldn’t stomach it if it’s from you.
Even before the match started, you were already on his grill, pestering him just because he wasn’t warming up yet. He was pissed the whole game and put extra effort than usual to make sure that you won’t have anything to say after.
“Um, excuse me.” A girl from Red Rabbits blocks him on his way to the restroom. “Tsukishima, right?”
He can tell that she is trying her best to look nonchalant, but the familiar tint on her face is telling.
Tsukishima had never understood girls who approach him for anything remotely romantic. Does he look like he’s interested? It’s not that he’s not open to the idea of dating, but he finds it unpleasant when people go after him because they like how he plays. Worse, for some obtuse reason like him being ‘cute.’
“Yes. Why?”
She smiles at him bashfully with her arms crossed behind her. “I’m also a middle blocker. I was really inspired with how you read block so well. If it’s okay with you, can you teach me how you do it?”
Why would he do that? He’s already a senior college student who’s also a professional athlete. He has no reason to go out of his way to teach someone read blocking. Especially someone who’s already supposed to know it since (as she claims) she’s also a middle blocker. Judging from where they currently are, someone from Division 1 no less.
“Sorry. I’m really busy,” he says bluntly.
“Oh, okay. Sorry for bothering you.” She bows then takes off immediately.
He watches as the girl from Red Rabbits scampers off as quickly as humanly possible. Did she really think he’d agree to it?
He is too occupied to notice the faint sound of footsteps behind him, and only when you speak does he notice your presence.
“Aww, poor girl going out of her way to ask you out.”
He groans. Why are you even here? You’re supposed to be checking on the team since their match just ended.
You fall into step beside him as he brushes your comment off and continues heading for the rest rooms.
“I didn’t ask her to,” he calmly responds despite your irksome presence.
“How are you going to get a girlfriend like that?” you ask exaggeratedly as if not getting in a relationship will lead to his ruin.
“I don’t need one.”
You gasp. “Damn, Tsukishima. Men your age are all about raging hormones. Where do you put all that raging testosterone?”
He purses his lips in a corner, his jaw tensing at your remark. Men his age? You talk as if you’re older when you’re in the same year he is.
Also, what the fuck?
Now you’re nagging about his personal life too? You’re already aggravating as the team manager. Now you’re even sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.
His blatant irritation must have shown in his face because you suddenly let out a giggle. “My bad, my bad. Don’t look so scary. Geez. Where you get action is none of my business. I just followed you to let you know that we’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
You turn around, about to go back but stop before you make the first step. “Oh, and we have a meeting later. I did the stat sheets of the game and gave it to the coach already. Great blocking, Tsukishima!” You pat his shoulder twice with a proud smile, then saunter off back to the arena.
Damn it. If only you aren’t so good at being a manager, he would actually be able to dislike you to the fullest. Not only that, he wouldn’t feel that silly, tiny contentment he felt upon hearing you.
Chapter 1 || masterlist
Taglist:(those crossed out can’t be tagged)
@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @babythotshq
#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima x you#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima crack#haikyuu x reader#tsukishima angst#tsukisima series#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu crack
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hey love! happy 400! you deserve every single follower and so many more!
can i have 🦚 cm characters, 🐢 emily prentiss, 🐉 hotchniss, 🐍 as cm characters or if someone else asked then cm ships, and finally 🍀
feel free to skip any if it's too much! yet again, happy 400! you so deserve it! love you raven <3
Edit: I now know this is from @raegan-reid and I want to say tysm Raegan ily <3
🐢 A random headcanon (specify character, for cm)
Emily Prentiss (writing this first because I love Emily sm, also I have no self-control when writing):
Emily hates board games. It's not because she doesn't know how to play or because she sucks at it, she knows how they're played and has played a couple of those app store board games. It's just that when it comes to the actual, game night style of board games, she absolutely hates them. Like, won't come 10 metres near it kind of hate.
Which is strange to everyone because Emily's extremely competitive and is great at poker and chess, which would most naturally mean that she would like board games too. However, when it comes to game nights with the rest of the team, games such as Monopoly or Cluedo are met with immediate disagreement from Emily, who suggest other games like Cards Against Humanity, or they do something else entirely.
Emily knows she's being unfair to the rest. That her hatred of board games should not affect the rest of the team's choice of relaxation. The rest of the team disagrees however, stating that everyone should be comfortable during game nights. And as much as Emily knows she should at least explain why, she finds that she can't get herself to do so.
Then one night, during girls night at Penelope's apartment, Emily finds herself confiding in Penelope, Tara, and JJ. Explaining how it's because she's never had a chance playing them growing up. It wasn't because she didn't have them, in fact, the ambassador would get her the games if she wanted them. It was because she never stayed in one place long enough to make any friends, let alone have friends she could play with. Even her mother would not play with her, citing how it was childish and ridiculous, leaving Emily with a bunch of games she could never play with anyone and a brewing hatred for any board game that existed.
Hearing Emily's reasons, Tara and JJ immediately offer to play and teach her the ins and outs of board games, while Penelope takes it a step further by digging out board games that she kept in storage. They ignore Emily's protests and sit her down, explaining the rules of each game and showing her how fun board games can be.
That night, Emily learns the basics how to play several games, including Monopoly, Cluedo, and Risk. She enjoys Monopoly the most, mostly because JJ and Penelope got into an argument almost immediately about the pieces and the fact that towards the end of the game Tara had started swearing whenever she landed on someone's property.
That is also the night that Emily allows herself to like board games. To allow herself to forget the evenings during her childhood where she would ask her mother to play with her, only to get rejected or ignored. Instead, she allowed those memories to be replaced with the sound of uncontrollable laughter, the smell of her favourite wine and snacks, and the warmth that was Penelope's apartment. Memories that make board games a little more loveable.
Emily Prentiss may not fully love board games but with memories like this, she learns to like them a little more.
---
The rest of the requests are under the cut because the hc is already longer than expected 👀.
🦚 Rank my top 5 of anything
As CM characters:
1. Emily Prentiss - I love her so much. She's amazing. So many quotable lines and just, I love her.
2. Penelope Garcia - I love how she's always so supportive of everyone and she deserves the world honestly.
3. Tara Lewis - Tara deserves more love, she is brilliant. "Your mom" and "Went on a diet. Lost 185 pounds" live rent free in my mind.
4. Luke Alvez - First of all, I love Roxy. Second of all, he's just a great and caring person and just has a great dynamic with everyone.
5. Alex Blake - Okay so I don't post much about Blake but I love her. She's like the mum of the team and I just think she's amazing and I love her.
🐉 Rate a ship/character (for cm)
Hotchniss: 5/10
I'm sorry but this is not a ship that I personally like. That being said, I can still sorta see why people would like it. I just don't think they're good together romantically.
🐍 cyma as anything
CM Ships (missed this out the first time but um yeah, also i’m sorry i’m tagging people so often)
Temily - @temilyrights
Jemily - @raegan-reid
Garvez - @tenelvez
Moreid - @bus-kids
🍀 A character I associate you with
Emily definitely. She’s funny and seems like a great person to hang out with and you are just the nicest person whenever we interact <3
#criminal minds headcanons#criminal minds#cm headcanons#emily prentiss#raven's 400 celebration#raegan☄️
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here again || s.r
words: ~2k
summary: you & steve reunite in wakanda after two long years apart
warning: literally none, just fluff. also bad writing bc this is an old ass oneshot
a/n: so uh,,,this was apparently the result of me falling in love with nomad steve rogers all over again. IW was actually the first avengers film i saw and let me just say, hot damn...also i’m horrible w/titles i’m so sorry. if you’d like to be added to my taglist to be the first to know when i publish something new loml!
tags: to @wxstedhexrt ! THANK YOU FOR BEING SO SWEET AND SUPPORTIVE AND ALWAYS TAGGING ME IN STUFF ILY
Time flies, people told you. Make the most of every moment. Take nothing for granted. Appreciate those you have around you while they’re still here, because you never know when they’ll leave you.
What they didn’t mention was what happened between those long hours, the immense pain that came along with missing someone you loved and held near and dear to your heart. The countless sleepless nights awake, wondering if they’d be alright, wondering if they were safe and not in danger. The countless nights hoping and praying they’d come back to you and crying yourself to sleep.
They didn’t tell you that sometimes, you never knew what you were missing until it was gone.
In your case, your ‘what’ was Steve Rogers.
Initially, you’d started off on Tony’s side. Not because you agreed with his argument - that wasn’t the case at all - but because you couldn’t stand the idea of turning your back against the man that had sacrificed so much for your sake. But as soon as you saw Steve on the other side of the battlefield, eyes soft and pleading, you couldn’t take it anymore. You caved.
Being in love made people do strange things, you thought.
You were lucky enough to have found refuge in Wakanda. T’Challa was more than happy to let you stay, knowing you had nowhere else to go and wanting to make sure you were looked after at all times. The others - Sam and the rest of Team Cap, had been sent to the Raft - they weren’t as lucky.
You felt awful. Here you were, living out a peaceful life (well, as peaceful of a fugitive’s life could be), while the rest of your teammates were trapped within the iron fists of the government.
Two years passed, and you still hadn’t gotten a message, any sort of sign, from any of them. You began losing hope. Maybe they weren’t coming back...
“Miss Y/N?” a calm voice suddenly jarred you from your thoughts.
You turned around to see T’Challa standing there with his hands behind his back. “How many times have i told you to just address me as Y/N?”
“My apologies, Y/N,” he nodded curtly, correcting himself. “Are you alright?”
“Just...thinking,” you hummed.
“It seems as if you have a lot on your mind,” he guessed. “Is there something that’s bothering you?”
“No, no...”
“Miss- Y/N, you’ve been here for two years, and you think by now, I wouldn’t know when something’s up?” The Wakandan king raised an eyebrow.
“T’challa-”
“Hopefully, some good news will lift your spirits?” he offered. “I have received a call, they’re on their way.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Who?”
“Captain Rogers and the others are due to arrive soon. War is coming, and we need to prepare.”
You froze. “D..did I just hear you correctly?”
“Indeed. Okoye will meet you outside your chambers in half an hour, so take some time to wash up and rest, will you? You seem exhausted.”
“You know me so well,” you yawned and stretched your arms in the air. “See you in a bit.”
After you finished washing up and drying your hair, you changed into a comfortable cable-knit sweater and dark jeans before opening the door to see Okoye and Shuri standing there. “Hi.”
Shuri came forward and squeezed you into a tight hug. “Hey!”
You chuckled lightly and ruffled her hair. “So, what’re we doing?”
“T’Challa’s already there, we’re going to see Barnes,” she explained.
“Bucky?”
“The one and only.”
Okoye offered you one of her rare smiles. You’d formed an unexpected close friendship with the fierce warrior during your time here - she made an excellent sparring partner, and even taught you how to work her weapons.
You headed outside to meet T’Challa, and made your way towards the fields together.
...
“Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0,” Steve stated as he walked up to the pilot’s seat. Despite the calm tone of voice he had, everyone could tell he was on the verge of losing it.
“I hope you’re right about this, Cap,” Sam said, “or we’re gonna land a lot faster than you want to.”
“Nervous, Rogers?” Natasha nudged him gently in the side.
“No.” But the look in his eyes gave it all away.
“It’s been a wild two years, huh,” she exhaled as she stared out ahead, the Quinjet passing through a camouflage forcefield into the Golden City’s valley, landing at the airfield outside the palace.
“Yeah...it has.”
“So when are you gonna tell her?”
“Tell her what?”
“That you’re hopelessly in love with her.”
“Natasha-”
“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers, I know you are,” she gave the super-soldier an accusatory look. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have woken up in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare that she died, and it was only after talking with Sam for an hour that you fell back asleep. Which has happened multiple times before.”
“But, Natasha-”
“Come on..why can’t you just admit it? Are you afraid she’s gonna reject you? Because that should be the least of your worries. She’s head over heels for you.”
“What makes you think that?” he tilted his head to the side slightly.
“Intuition. And the way she looked at you.”
“When you said we were going to open Wakanda to the rest of the world...this is not what I imagined,” Okoye commented as she and T’Challa walked side-by-side.
“And what did you imagine?”
“The Olympics. Maybe even a Starbucks.”
The Quinjet’s back gate dropped open and its occupants disembarked. Steve and Natasha stepped down the ramp first, followed by Bruce and Rhodey, with Vision and Wanda in the back.
“Should we bow?” Bruce whispered into Rhodey’s ear.
“Yeah,” he replied, dead serious. “He’s a king.”
“Seems like I’m always thanking you for something,” Steve said as he and T’Challa shook hands.
Bruce awkwardly bowed. Rhodey pretended to look shocked, but there was a hint of an smile on his face. “What are you doing?”
“Uh, we don’t do that here,” T’Challa motioned with his hand. Bruce shot Rhodey a look, and was just answered with an amused grin. “So how big of an assault can we expect?”
“Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault,” Bruce replied as they began walking back into the administrative building.
“How we looking?” Natasha questioned.
“You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and...”
“A semi-stable, 100-year-old man,” Bucky finished with a wide grin as he walked towards his best friend. The two men exchanged a tight hug.
“How you been, Buck?”
“Uh, not bad, for the end of the world.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “But I think I’ve been holding up better than she has.”
“Who?”
“Everyone’s favorite retired Olympian, ex-nurse, and fugitive electrokinetic hero.”
“What-”
Before he had the chance to answer, your familiar figure stepped out from the shadows.
“Y/N?”
“Steve?”
You felt your breath catch in your throat and froze on the spot. He still had that same lean, muscular figure that any girl would swoon over, but his hair had grown out from years on the run and a rugged beard now covered his sharp jaw. His suit was darkened from dirt and grime and the star in its centre was torn out. But he was still absolutely breathtaking - bright blue eyes shining through the coverage.
His expression immediately softened upon seeing you. After many nights praying to see your face again his vision had finally become reality - and he had to keep pinching the inside of his palm to remind himself that this in fact, wasn’t a dream at all. He wasn’t dreaming. You were real, and you were standing just a couple yards away.
You felt your chest ache at the sight of him - it had been two years since you heard him speak. And it didn’t seem to matter how long you were apart for, because his voice would always make you weak at the knees. You hated him for making you react the way you did - or was it yourself that your hatred was directed at more?
But then all feelings of resentment and frustration starting to bubble up to the surface suddenly evaporated. You snapped out of your temporary trance and broke into a sprint, running as fast as your legs would carry you and launching yourself towards him, flinging your arms around his neck. “Steve-”
You slumped against him and broke down, your body trembling from your sobs. He pulled you closer against him and circled his arms around your waist. You didn’t know whether you were crying out of frustration or relief - but the feeling that was brought upon you by being held by him was unlike any other - you’d never get tired of it. You felt so safe, so protected in his tight embrace that you didn’t want to think about anything else. You didn’t want to think about the inevitable war on your way, you didn’t want to think about the past nor the future, you just wanted to live in the moment - with your head on his chest, his chin on top of your head. That was it.
Steve felt his heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. You were crying. You never cried. You never cried and now you were breaking down - because of him.
“I missed you,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your hair. “God, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry I left you-”
“It’s okay-” you choked out, “I’m just glad you’re alive-”
You lifted your chin up slightly and he rested his forehead against yours, so close that there were only a few millimeters that kept your lips from touching. That’s when you realized he, too, was crying - tears streaming down his face and you swear there’s literally nothing that could make him look any less handsome. You felt your heart stop momentarily. A strange feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. If it weren’t for his steady gaze, you’re almost 100% sure you would’ve forgotten how to breathe.
Steve let out a shaky sigh of relief, inhaling the fresh scent of roses in your hair. It’s been two years since he was last able to hold you like this - and two years later, he still believes you fit perfectly together and that you were made to be held by him, and him alone.
Then you were overcome with a sudden surge of confidence and quickly cupped his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his, closing the gap.
It was like fireworks were shooting through your veins as he deepened the kiss and pulled you closer - if that was even possible, given that you were practically pressed against one another - your heart racing at what felt like a million miles per hour at the feeling of his warm lips on yours and his hand between your shoulder blades and on the small of your back. He tasted like everything between euphoria and heartbreak, salty tears and berries and warm coffee, and his touch was electrifying.
You probably could’ve gone on like that for hours on end. It was only when you heard someone cough awkwardly that you broke apart, eyes still glassy with tears, your faces flushed, and lips swollen.
“Are you and lover boy gonna keep up the baby-making or are you gonna say hi to the rest of us?” Sam interjected. “Just a friendly reminder that you aren’t the only two people here.”
“You’re gross,” you muttered as Steve released you to go greet the others. “Hey, Sam. It’s been a while, huh.”
“Long time no see,” he agreed.
“Well, well, well, I see you’ve finally worked up the courage to make a move, both of you,” Natasha smirked as she brought you in for a quick hug. “I’m proud of you both.”
“Nat! I missed you.”
“I missed you too. You know, Cap wouldn’t stop rambling about you the entire way here-”
“Shut up, Nat,” Steve cut her off. “I wasn’t rambling.”
“Not rambling my ass,” Bucky muttered, “you were talking my ear off that day we took the Quinjet. Wouldn’t stop worrying about her when she insisted she’d be okay.”
“If there was an Olympic sport of being passionately in love with your best friend and mutually pining over one another for years before finally breaking the through-the-roof tension, I assure you you’d win, Captain,” Shuri grinned mischievously.
“Oh, my God.”
#avengers imagines#steve x reader#steve rogers x reader#avengers x reader#captain america imagine#captain america x reader#marvel fic#avengers fanfiction#captain america one shot#steve rogers fanfiction#captain america fanfiction#steve rogers fic#captain america fic#mcu#chris evans x reader
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Dinner for Three
Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Fem!Reader
OneShot: This is just a non-canon fic! This is basically placed AFTER the timelines of this fic, just a fun little side ficlet surrounding you and the lords after yall get together in celebration of Valentines day!
*If you want to read the rest of the fic so far here's a link to my masterlist where you can find Rip Out Our Seams & Stitch Us Together*
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: profanity, some groping going on and kissing. That's about it! Fluff and talking of self-worth.
Summary: It's Valentine's Day, you decide to treat Valerie to a nice homecooked dinner, Maxwell joins you when he returns home from work.
If the formatting is fucked im sorry tumblr fucked this like three times today im just trying to get it POSTED for you all.
Tag List: @captainsamwlsn @themarcusmoreno @cinewhore @thesadvampire @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @holographic-carmen @honestlystop @thecrimsonsquire @phoenixhalliwell @that-chick212 @phantomnae @goldafterglow
If I forgot to tag you I'm so sorry please let me know!
Notes: BIG thank you to @ficsilike-reblogged who bought me a kofi! I know i was meant to do asomething shorter but i couldn't help myself! Also my usual big thanks for the ever lovely @teaofpeach for editing for me you are an absolute treat my dear ily <3
(i coudn't find any good lasagna gifs the TRAGEDY)
“What in God’s name are you wearing?”
You turned around at the shocked voice to see Valerie standing in the kitchen doorway, red painted lips dropped open.
You grinned and planted your hands on your hips with pride. “My Valentine’s Day outfit! You don’t like it?”
Her face fell flat as she looked you up and down; the main culprit of her disdain was the shirt you wore, buttoned neatly and covered in hearts. “Hon, you look like a cartoon character.”
You wiggled your brows. “A sexy cartoon character?”
“Remind me again why I love you?”
Hearing the word ‘love’ from Valerie Lord would never not send your heart into a frenzy. It had been months since the gala, since they had told you about their feelings with courage brought on my champagne and their own confessions to one another.
They finally had each other, why couldn't they have you as well?
Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a… learning curve. When it came to the relationship, Valerie was bad at sharing her feelings. Sure, she’d say when she didn’t like somebody, or when she thought certain food tasted bad or when Maxwell’s new cologne smelled like rat shit. But she wouldn’t tell you when she was sad, insecure or felt like she wasn’t enough for the both of you.
Maxwell was too concerned with the outer view of the relationship, as he had been with Valerie since they got married. It was suspicious of course, for him to be seen leaving with a “mystery woman” without his wife around, so he took certain precautions. When out and about, he would take too much time fretting over the cameras and questions than you.
These precautions nearly cost them your relationship, their sweet girl who brought them together and showed them love and care and made them realize while they couldn't live without each other, they couldn’t live without you as well.
But now, they knew this. That you weren’t a fling who could be replaced. Your nimble fingers had stitched their beating hearts back together with a golden thread they wouldn’t dare untie from your own.
You turned away from the heiress and back to the stove as you stirred the red sauce in front of you.
“As abhorrent as that shirt is-” Her voice purred in your ear as her arms slid around your waist and pulled your back flush against her- “I love you in those jeans.”
You chuckled and kept your eyes on the task at hand as you slowly stirred. “As much of a compliment that is, Mrs. Lord, why don’t you keep those hands to yourself until I put this on the stove, alright?”
She hummed, contemplative before pressing her lips to the crook of your neck. “So mean to me baby.”
Her hands toyed with your belt loop, a painted nail hooking your shirt and slowly sliding it out from where it was tucked.
You sucked in a sharp breath. “Valerie.”
“What? Can’t I show my pretty baby some love on Valentines day?”
“Not while I’m cooking on a hot stove, little-miss-gropey.” A quick slap to her wrist with the wooden spoon made her yelp and yank her hands away from you.
“Bitch!”
You turned and pursed your lips. “Aww, poor baby, want me to kiss it better?”
She grumbled under her breath, taking in the splattered food on her wrist from the spoon before swiping her finger through it and bringing it to her mouth.
“Maybe you can kiss my ass instea- Oh, damn that’s good.”
Her eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of such a high and mighty woman licking the back of her hand.
“Is that-”
“Basil?” She hummed at the taste. “I’m glad you enjoy it. It’s my father’s recipe.”
Valerie watched you as you cooked. Methodically adding each ingredient while humming along to the radio and swaying from side to side.
“You don’t talk about him much.”
Valerie knew you were different than her and Maxwell. Your childhood wasn’t full of flashing cameras, propping questions, and hiding tears behind fake smiles to reporters. When your father was brought up in conversation, you didn’t bristle or change the subject. You would smile.
She wasn’t jealous of that joy. That love you had from your family. She’s grateful for it, that amongst the struggles you had, there was also support and happiness.
“He doesn’t come up in conversation often.” Valerie’s hands once more wrapped around your waist, but simply settled at your hips. Her body was flush with your own and she let her head rest on your shoulder, gently swaying with you as you continued to cook.
“Tell me about him.”
She saw the small smile that graced your lips, mourning and grateful all at once as you spoke of him.
“He used to say that as people, we’re a collection of those around us. The ones we’ve loved. All their little mannerisms and tics become a part of who we are. And that we do the same for other people who love us.”
As you slowly set the pasta onto the bottom of the pan and began to layer the sauce, she wondered who you were an amalgamation of. Was the way you tilted your head back as you laughed from an old flame?
Was the way you sang and shook your hips from a best friend when you were young, who you wished had been more?
Were the soft kisses you press to the tip of their noses something given to you? Or an act of love learned by watching your parents?
Did you have anything of hers? Of Max’s?
Did they have anything of yours?
“I see it in you and Max, yanno.” You stepped back to open the oven and settle the pan on the top rack before shutting it. “You both do a lil’ nose scrunch when you get angry.”
“What?” She drew back from your body, unintentionally wrinkling her nose in the process. “We do not.”
You pulled her close to your body again. Your arms settled around her waist as you slowly moved side to side. You hummed along to the smooth voice of Grover Washington Jr. that danced from the radio and filled the large kitchen, empty except for the two of you.
“Sure do. You're also both very boujee-”
“Hey.”
“A touch temperamental-”
“I’ll give you that one but-"
“As well as emotionally constipated-”
“Excuse me?”
“And yet-” You hummed, letting your head drop forward to rest against hers, nose bumping against hers in a gentle caress- “I can’t help but love you both every damn day.”
Her blue eyes widened, before she groaned and shoved her face into your shirt.
“You fucking sap.” She lifted her head to yours and kissed you. The melody curled around you as she wrapped her arms around your neck and tugged you flush against her. A soft moan broke from her lips as you ran your hands over the plush skin of her ass.
You pulled away long enough to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, giggling when her face scrunched up in response. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Val."
Valerie Lord never thought she’d have this. This love and security. The ability to smile and kiss and dance on a Sunday night in the arms of a lover. She didn’t think she’d ever have a day where she felt love, a love she wasn’t afraid to admit.
Especially to two people.
The pair of you danced in silence, listening to the lyrics that serenaded the way you spun her and the laugh that bubbled up her chest her perfect, pinned, blonde curls came loose.
And darling when the morning comes
And I see the morning sun
I wanna be the one with you.
When Maxwell came home, he noticed how quiet the house was. No chatter or footsteps along the hardwood floors. He knew what day it was, of course he did. He wasn’t an idiot. Valentine’s Day wasn’t a special day with the Lords. It never had been.
But of course, that was before they met you.
Maxwell never saw that love with his parents. His mother was cold and cruel, and while his father was a good man, he knew he didn’t love her. He didn’t blame him for it. But now he felt it. The way his heart would hammer against his ribs so hard he wondered if you could hear him. The way all his stress and anger would melt away the moment Valerie’s hands held his face in a grasp like that used to carry a bird with a broken wing.
He didn’t think it was possible to love. To desire and need somebody as much as he did you two. Now he did, and he wouldn’t go back to a life without it for all the money and power in the world.
The sound of smooth sax caught his attention. Slowly, he set down his briefcase and followed the music until he found himself in front of the kitchen.
This. Maxwell thought as he watched the two of you, your eyes shut as you held one another in a close embrace as swayed. This is why he did it all.
The long hours, the greuling work and idiotic employees. If he could come home to this everyday, it’d all be worth it.
He leaned against the doorway, watching you two until your own eyes opened and met his.
“Happy to finally have you with us monopoly-man.”
He snorted at your lovingly crude nickname. “It was a long day at work.” Gone was the fake ‘apple-pie-and-picket-fence’ accent he forced himself to use at work when he spoke and you loved it. To see the real Maxwell was a privilege, one you would never take for granted.
“Every day at work is a long day for you.”
Before he could retort, his wife unwrapped her arms from you and walked over to her husband. Valerie cupped his face in her hand and led him to her lips with a soft moan. Maxwell melted into the kiss with ease, all thoughts of work and conference calls vanished into thin air as his wife’s fingers carded through his hair. She pulled away with a wet pop and ran a thumb over the smudged lipstick on his face.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”
Maxwell let his hand run over her bottom lip with a lazy smile. She was magnificent like this. Not preened or pinned or posed. She was messy and unkempt and happy. She never looked more breathtaking than in those moments.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”
Her eyes flicked over his crisp suit and her sweet smile was replaced with a groan.
“Son of a bitch you fuckers are matching!”
You shrieked with laughter while Valerie pointed an accusatory finger at the heart-covered tie that lay on her husband’s chest.
“You tacky traitor!”
You leaned over and pressed your lips to his cheek, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back.
“Aw don’t worry, Max. She’s just jealous she isn't matching with us.”
Valerie reared back. “I’ll be caught dead before I ever-”
“Alastair sent them to us.”
A moment of silence passed before she spoke again, more offended than annoyed.
“And he didn’t send one for me?”
Maxwell smirked at his wife, fishing out a small white box and presenting it to her.
“Our son knows his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in anything with gaudy patterns.” He opened the box and she took in the red heart earrings with a smile.
Which was ultimately ruined by you.
“Aw, he boujee just like his mama!”
Before either one could snap back at you, a small ding sounded through the kitchen and you moved quickly over to the oven.
“You know-” Maxwell spoke as he put the earrings on his wife with gentle hands- “We have a chef for a reason.”
You brought out the pan and set it onto the stove, taking in the savory smell with a proud smile.
“Well, fine then. Go get your cook to make you dinner if you want to complain.”
“Wait. Wait, no that not- that’s not what I meant- I’m starving, please.”
Valerie moved around her husband, taking a bottle of red wine and bumping his hip with hers. “Just set the table Maxwell, we both know how you can make it up to her later. It’s a special day after it all.”
Her husband loosened his tie and grinned at you in a way that made you think he wanted to eat you for dinner instead of the meal you prepared.
“Lovely idea, darling.”
#maxwell lord#maxwell lord x oc#maxwell lord x reader#maxwell lord x you#valerie lord x reader#maxwell lord x valerie lord x reader#ROOSASUT#ww1984#wonder women 1984#fanfiction#max lord#maxwell lorenzano#tell me if i missed any tags lmao
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Landslide: Chapter Two
Word Count: 4.0k
Summary: Reader attends Danny’s wedding. Javier tries again to make amends.
Warning(s): Angst, Spanish (Translations at the end of the chapter)
A/N: Here’s the second chapter! I’m really excited to share this next part with you guys to see what you think. Thank you SO MUCH for the lovely responses to Chapter One. I’ve had so many lovely comments and I’m still working on responding to them all. A very special thanks goes out to @murdermewithbooks for translating all of the Spanish lines and @aerynwrites for beta reading! Thank you both so much! This chapter wouldn’t be what it is without you! Ily! ❤️
Masterlist
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Chapter One
(Gif by @underbetelgeuse, originally from this post) Please let me know if you’d rather me not use the gif. I’ll remove it immediately! No questions asked.
You wake with the sun as it shines through your curtains, a thin stream of light that so unfortunately hits you right in the eyes. With a soft groan, you rub the sleep from your eyes and roll from your side onto your back. Your foot knocks against something heavy, and you startle as it falls to the ground with a loud thud. Your suitcase.
“Fuck,” you curse, letting out a huff of air.
After giving yourself a few more seconds to just lie there, you push yourself up and out of bed. The ache from last night lingers still, making any movement just a bit more difficult. Your sleep, though deep and dreamless, was still not quite enough to fend off the physical exhaustion of dealing with your own emotions. But you won’t allow yourself to lie in bed all day wallowing in your own self-pity.
Once you’re standing, you look down at the packed suitcase on the floor, scowling at it for just a second. It needs to be unpacked and everything needs to go back to its place, but you elect to leave it for later. Instead, you trudge out of your room and into the bathroom just down the hall. You hope that maybe a shower will loosen up your muscles and give you the energy that you need for the day.
You flip the light on, shaking your head as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the sink. There’s dried mascara down your cheeks and all around your eyes. Your hair is tangled and sticking out at odd angles. To call your appearance haggard would be kind.
You sigh softly and turn around. The rings of the shower curtain scrape across the metal rod as you pull it closed. You wince at the sound, reaching in and turning on the hot water. While the water heats up, you undress yourself, leaving your clothes in a heap on the floor. You’ll worry about getting the apartment cleaned up once you’ve washed away the remnants of last night.
By the time you step into the shower, the heat is already starting to fog up the mirror. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you step under the hot spray. Already you can feel the tension seeping out of your body, flowing down the drain with the water. You close your eyes, giving yourself this moment to unwind. It’s the least you can afford yourself after seeing Javier again.
You reach out with one hand, bracing yourself against the shower wall as your encounter with him from yesterday plays back in your mind. The same panic begins to creep into your chest, but is soon replaced by anger. “It’s...It’s been a while,” he’d said. It makes your blood boil. Ten years and that was the only thing he could think to say to you. And then he’d had the nerve to call you querida, as if you’d still be his sweetheart after what he’d done.
You’ll see him at the wedding. It’s a bitter truth that you have to come to terms with and a troubling thought you would rather not dwell on. If it weren’t a Peña family wedding, you would just stay home. But no matter how much you hate the idea of being around Javier and subjecting yourself to the gossip that will inevitably follow, you won’t neglect such an important occasion.
You stand up straight again when you feel the water beginning to cool, and you make relatively quick work of getting yourself cleaned up. After shutting off the water, you pull the curtain back and step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in the towel hanging over the bar on the wall. You feel better, lighter now that you’ve gotten to freshen up and rouse yourself.
Damp feet padding gently across the floor, you go back to your bedroom, dressing yourself in a pair of jeans and a shirt, something comfortable enough to wear while you do some work around the apartment. You then haul the suitcase back onto your bed and unzip it. The clothes and other various items you’d stuffed in there come almost spilling out and you shake your head.
You start with your clothes, hanging your shirts back up and folding other garments to be put back in their respective drawers. Once that’s done, you take another pile of things to be put back in your desk. Before long, the suitcase is empty and stored back underneath your bed.
Now that you’ve given yourself a place to start, you carry on putting your bedroom back together. As things return to their rightful places, you find yourself oddly soothed. It’s calming to restore order in any way that you can.
This is one thing that you have complete control over.
—
Javier sits on the back porch steps of his father’s house, sipping silently at the beer in his hand. It’s barely the afternoon, but he doesn’t care. He hardly slept last night, and what little sleep he did get was restless, plagued by the images of your face twisted in anger and the sound of your voice, a clear warning to him as if the look in your eyes hadn’t been enough. He knows he screwed up—in more ways than one. But when brought face-to-face with you again for the first time since he left, his mind went blank. He’d said the first words that came to him, though they were just about the worst thing he could have come up with.
Behind him, the door opens and shuts again, and the wooden boards creak beneath his father’s footsteps. “¿Estás bien, mijo? Has estado muy callado hoy,” Chucho says, and Javier doesn’t even turn to face the older man as he speaks. Instead, he takes another long sip from the bottle in his hand.
“No me dijiste que estaba en pueblo,” he answers flatly.
Chucho sighs, settling himself in his rocking chair. “No ha estado de regreso por mucho tiempo. She got rejected from a publisher in Washington,” he answers gently.
Javier shakes his head. He’d once held the privilege of being able to read the things you wrote. Back then, he didn’t see how you would ever struggle to be a published author, and he’s sure that through the years you’ve only improved upon your writing skills. "Yo la ví, Papá." She...She hates me,” he finally breathes, and he feels his chest swelling with a grief he knows he shouldn’t feel. You have every right to hate him. It’s his own fault.
“¿Hablaste con ella?,” his father asks.
Javier hangs his head, putting his beer down on the step. “No me dejó hablar con ella. Lo intenté." Part of him wishes that he would have followed you out of Anita’s store, but he knows that wouldn’t have ended well.
“Ella estará en la boda de Danny,” Chucho says, and Javier’s head snaps up. He turns to look at his father in disbelief. Surely you won’t show up now, not when you know that he’s in town. You want nothing to do with him. You’ve made that abundantly clear and Javier doesn’t blame you for even a second. “Tal vez ella va a hablar contigo entonces,” his father continues.
Javier is quiet for a moment. He considers what might happen if he were to approach you. The last thing he wants to do is cause a scene, but like he told you, he needs you to understand what happened all those years ago. Even if it doesn’t change anything, you still deserve to know why he left you the way he did.
“Eso espero,” he whispers, taking another long drink from his beer and wishing that it were something much stronger.
—
You suck in a deep breath as you walk up the front stairs of the little white church. As you step inside, you realize that you haven’t been here since your own wedding, not even for a regular church service. It’s almost unnerving to be back, but you brush off your own discomfort. The ceremony won’t be long.
You pause in the foyer for just a moment, looking back down the hall where the dressing room is. You know Danny’s bride is back there, preparing for one of the best days of her life. Just like you had been so many years ago. The only comfort you find is knowing that today won’t end with the same heartbreak.
Before you can dwell on it any longer, you feel a gentle, warm hand on your shoulder. A genuine smile graces your lips as you turn and see Javier’s father.
“Mijita,” he greets you, pulling you into a gentle hug. You close your eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling much more calm than you had just seconds ago. Chucho has always been soothing that way, ever since you and Javier were just little kids running around on the ranch. You’ve always felt safe with him.
“How have you been, Pops? I haven’t seen you in forever,” you say, your smiling brightening at the fatherly kiss he pecks to your cheek. He releases you then, reaching up to straighten the signature Stetson that he wears.
His hands go to his hips as he stands in front of you. It’s no secret where Javier picked the habit up from. “I’ve been just fine, mijita. I was sorry to hear about the publisher in Seattle,” he replies. You feel a bit of heat come to your cheeks then. It never ceases to amaze you just how many people your parents manage to tell about your shortcomings with your novels.
You shake your head, letting out a soft breath. “It’s alright. It just meant I got to come back home. It’s nice to see everyone here,” you tell him, and you mean it. You’ve always enjoyed being around for Peña family events. There’s never a dull moment and you always seem to have the best time.
Chucho nods in agreement, though his expression softens. There’s compassion in his eyes as he looks into yours. “We’re all happy you’re here. It means a lot that you came,” he says. He then takes one of your hands in both of his. “I know it’s not easy...being in this place and having him back home.”
“Did he tell you we ran into each other?,” you whisper, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Javier is standing right outside the door, talking to his aunt.
“He told me he saw you, and that you wouldn’t let him talk to you,” Chucho replies, though his tone is still gentle, not at all scolding you for the reaction you’d had.
Your gaze falls to the floor. You don’t know how much you want to tell Chucho, even though you know he’d never say a word to Javier about any of it if you didn’t want him to. “I just… Pops, I can’t…” You trail off, knowing that now is not the time to explore your feelings about seeing Javier again.
Chucho squeezes your hand gently, shaking his head. “You don’t have to explain to me, mijita. I understand. Just...know that he wants to make things right. Even if the only thing he can do is explain himself,” he tells you. The words send a pang through your chest. You’re still not ready to hear that explanation. You’ve spent ten years trying to come up with a reason for Javier to abandon you. And even after so long, you don’t think your heart has prepared itself for the truth.
He must see the panic welling up in your eyes. “You don’t have to do anything that you’re not ready to. It’s alright,” he assures you.
Luckily, music begins to float into the foyer from the sanctuary, saving you from having to say much else. “You’re right,” you breathe. “But that’s something to worry about later,” you say, forcing a smile. Chucho lets go of your hands then, allowing you to follow the rest of the guests that have begun to file into the other room.
“Thank you,” you tell him.
He just smiles and tips his hat.
—
The wedding was a beautiful, quiet affair. You’re glad that you went, despite having every reason not to. It was good for you to see that happy endings still exist, even if you haven’t managed to get to your own quite yet.
There’s a small group of guests that make the short walk to the reception hall together. You join them, conversing about the ceremony and all the lovely details. Each breath comes a little easier than the last as you distance yourself from the church. By the time you do make it to the reception hall, you’re ready to have a good time. And so long as the Peñas are involved, you know that you will.
You step inside the building, feeling a rush of cool air wash over you. The air conditioning is a welcome change to the outside heat wave. The festivities have already begun, and you smile when you see everyone dancing and mingling and enjoying the good food that Javier’s aunts had most certainly spent forever making. You head over to the long stretch of tables yourself, your stomach rumbling in anticipation.
As you fill your plate, you chat with another one of the cousins, Luis, who moves down the opposite side, briefly catching up with each other. There’s not a single mention of Javier, which you’re grateful for. Luis invites you to sit at the same table as his family, and you follow, taking a seat next to his young boy.
Not long after you sit, however, you begin to feel a pair of eyes on your back. You don’t have to look behind you to know that it’s Javier. You’d made a point to sit far behind him and Chucho at the wedding, but there is no escape from his gaze here.
For a short while, you’re able to sit peacefully and ignore Javier’s stare burning into your back. But the feeling is unrelenting, and though you try to keep a conversation with Luis and his wife, it’s not enough to distract you forever. Eventually, you stand from the table, excusing yourself. You take your plate over to one of the trash cans, disposing of it before you head for the door, just needing a moment to clear your head.
You finally steal a glance in Javier’s direction. Sure enough, his eyes are trained on you.
You turn your back on him immediately, heading out the same door you entered from.
The sun hits right in your face as you step outside. To escape the heat, you go down the walkway to the corner of the building where the shade tree is. You find immediate relief under the broad green leaves.
You take in a deep breath, but just before you can let it all out, you hear him call your name.
“Goddamn it,” you mutter to yourself.
You turn around to watch as Javier walks towards you. There’s no hesitation in his steps, but you do see apprehension in his eyes as he comes closer. He stops just a few feet away from you, his hands on his hips as he looks at you.
“Don’t do this here, Javier,” you warn. “Go back inside and enjoy your cousin’s wedding reception.”
He narrows his eyes. “What? Are we both supposed to just pretend that the other doesn’t exist while you mingle with my family?,” he asks. You feel your anger spike at his words.
You take a quick step forward, your finger pointed at his chest. “Watch it, Peña. Just because we never got married doesn’t mean that they’re not my family too. They’ve certainly been more present in my life than you have,” you seethe, appalled that he would even insinuate that you aren’t just as much part of the family as he is.
He huffs in frustration, raking his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. That wasn’t...That wasn’t what I meant,” he sighs. “I just meant that we can’t keep doing this. You won’t even look at me.”
“Yeah, well, did you ever think that maybe I don’t want to?,” you retort.
“Can we please just talk about this?,” he pleads.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t care anymore, Javi. We’re just another notch on each other’s bedposts, okay?” It’s a lie. Every word is a lie that burns on its way out, but you have to tell him something—anything—that will get him to leave you alone and go back inside.
He laughs bitterly. He can see right through you. He’s always been able to. “That’s a fucking lie and you know it. You wouldn’t act like this if you didn’t care,” he bites back.
“Please just go back inside,” you say, your voice dropping to a near-whisper. Your tone suddenly lacks any force as you lose the will to keep this argument going.
His arms drop loosely to his sides. His shoulders fall from where they’d been so tense and straight. “Lo siento,” he breathes, bringing one hand up to grip his shoulder for a moment. “I’ll go,” he murmurs, turning around and heading back into the reception hall.
You turn away from the building, closing your eyes for a moment to fend off another wave of emotions. This isn’t the time or the place for it.
After you’ve composed yourself, you too return to the festivities. But when you walk back inside, you notice that mixed in with the music and laughter, there are a lot of glances in your direction followed by hushed whispers. Many others look between you and Javier as they talk amongst themselves. You already know what they’re saying. They’ve been saying a lot of the same things for ten years. Your wedding day went down infamously in Laredo’s history.
It takes you just a second to decide that it’s time for you to go. You won’t take the attention away from Danny and his new bride. Your eyes search the room for Chucho, and you let out a soft breath of relief when you see that Javier is not with him.
He stands as you walk over to him. Just like Javier, he can read you like a book. “I’m sorry he upset you, mijita,” he says, but you shake your head. You won’t have Chucho apologizing for Javier’s behavior or the emotions that you feel so intensely.
“I’m just gonna go, Pops. Give the bride and groom my love for me,” you reply.
Chucho smiles sadly at you, but nods in understanding. He takes his thumb, gently lifting your chin so that you’re looking him straight in the eye. “Always keep your head up, mijita,” he murmurs soothingly.
His words cause tears to spring to your eyes, but you manage a smile for his sake. “Te quiero, Pops,” you whisper.
“Te quiero mucho, my girl,” he tells you.
—
Javier is silent as he sits in the passenger seat of his father’s truck, his elbow against the door and his head leaning against his closed fist. It’s dark now, and he chooses to focus on the beams of the headlights on the road. He can feel his father’s gentle gaze every few seconds. It’s only a matter of time before he speaks.
“I already know what you’re going to say,” Javier finally says, relenting to his father’s silent pressing. He’s tired. He doesn’t really have the energy for this conversation, but it’ll happen anyway even if he doesn’t initiate it.
“No you don’t,” Chucho replies. He turns down a dead-end road, one that Javier recognizes all-too-well. He’s not at all surprised when the truck comes to a stop. Javier sighs, settling further back into the seat and turning to look the older man in the eye.
“No sé qué hacer. No quiere hablar conmigo,” he admits. He closes his eyes, running a hand roughly down his face.
“La lastimaste, Javier.”
“Lo sé, Papá.”
“No,” he says more forcefully, “no sabes.”
“Well maybe if she’d talk to me I would understand,” Javier snaps, though he immediately regrets the short loss of his temper. He knows that his father doesn’t mean to anger him.
Chucho sighs. “She’s spent so long trying to forget. And here you are, when she leasts expects it. And the first thing you do is demand to talk to her.”
“You told me to talk to her,” Javier counters.
“No. I said maybe she would talk to you.” He sighs at the correction, knowing that there is certainly a difference.
Javier huffs softly, shaking his head. “Well, we both know that’s not going to happen.” He has no faith that he’ll ever be able to fix things with you, no matter how much he wants to.
“Ten years is a long time, my son. What you did...time couldn’t heal that. I’ll never forget that day as long as I live…,” his father starts, and Javier feels his chest constrict as his father trails off. He’s gone this long without knowing what happened the day he left. He doesn’t want to hear about it now.
“Por favor, Papá. No lo hagas,” he pleads.
Chucho pays him no mind, continuing anyway. “I was the one to tell her you were gone. And at that time I didn’t know that you had left for Colombia. I wouldn’t find that out until I got back to the house that night. I held her while she cried, Javier. While she sobbed and begged to know what she’d done to make you leave.” There’s a sad, wistful look in the old man’s eyes as he relives the memory.
Javier is quiet for some time, letting the words sink into his heart and pull him down in that dark state of mind he’s known too well since the day he left Laredo. He doesn’t want to think about you that way. He doesn’t want to imagine you in that kind of pain, especially not the pain that he caused you. It’s too much for him to bear.
“Ella nunca me va a perdonar por eso.” His words are hardly audible. He hangs his head, looking down at the floorboards of the truck.
His father shrugs. “Ella podría. These things take time, Javier. You can’t expect it to be better overnight,” Chucho replies, offering some hope even when mending the rift seems like a hopeless endeavor.
Javier crosses his arms over his chest, not believing that there is any chance. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be gone soon, anyway, and then she won’t have to worry about it.” He looks out the front of the truck then, watching the trees sway gently in the night wind.
“Ah, si. Huyendo de vuelta a Colombia,” his father muses.
“No estoy huyendo,” Javier shoots back defensively. He sits up straight in his seat again, his shoulders squared.
“Tal vez no, pero lo estás usando como un escape.” As much as he wants to, he can’t deny his father’s words. He’s right, just like he always is.
“We have to take down Cali,” he responds instead.
Chucho shakes his head, putting a gentle hand on Javier’s shoulder. It makes him relax just the slightest bit. “Eso no es una vida, mijo. Colombia ya te ha cambiado lo suficiente. Tú no eres el hombre que eras antes de irte,” he says.
He’s right about that too, but Javier would rather stare death in the face a thousand times than see the hurt in your eyes once more.
“Yo sé,” he whispers.
-
Spanish Translations
“¿Estás bien, mijo? Has estado muy callado hoy.” - “Are you alright, son? You’ve been very quiet today.”
“No me dijiste que estaba en pueblo.” - “You didn’t tell me she was in town.”
“No ha estado de regreso por mucho tiempo.” - “She hasn’t been back for very long.”
"Yo la ví, Papá." - “I saw her, Dad.”
“¿Hablaste con ella?” - “Did you talk to her?”
“No me dejó hablar con ella. Lo intenté." - “She won’t let me talk to her. I tried.”
“Ella estará en la boda de Danny.” - “She’ll be at Danny’s wedding.”
“Tal vez ella va a hablar contigo entonces.” - “Maybe she’ll talk to you then.”
“Eso espero.” - I hope so.
“Mijita” - My daughter (nickname)
“Lo siento.” - “I’m sorry.”
“No sé qué hacer. No quiere hablar conmigo.” - “I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“La lastimaste, Javier.” - “You hurt her, Javier.”
“Lo sé, Papá.” - “I know, Dad.”
“No...no sabes.” - “No, you don’t (know).”
“Por favor, Papá. No lo hagas.” - “Please, Dad. Don’t do this.”
“Ella nunca me va a perdonar por eso.” - “She’ll never forgive me for that.”
“Ah, si. Huyendo de vuelta a Colombia.” - “Ah, right. Running back to Colombia.”
“No estoy huyendo.” - “I’m not running.”
“Tal vez no, pero lo estás usando como un escape.” - “Maybe not, but you are using it as an escape.”
“Eso no es una vida, mijo. Colombia ya te ha cambiado lo suficiente. Tú no eres el hombre que eras antes de irte.” - “That’s no life, my son. Colombia has changed you enough already. You are not the man you were before you left.”
“Yo sé.” - “I know.”
-
Chapter Three
-
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