#the game says one opinion but shakes my fist no one fucking understands my. my anime boy
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🔥🔥🔥🔥GIVE US DON OPINIONS!!!
don is the most underrated character in the entire series and i will stand by this forever. there are characters that deserve more attention and that get less attention than him but the difference between them is they do not have nearly as much presence in the story as don does. don (and gilda but she gets way more love) has the most importance and pagetime in the story besides the trio (you know. the main characters). hes smart and emotional and funny as fuck and his arc is a wonderful story about an insecure boy losing his sister and learning to overcome his insecurities and become more confident so that he can make sure he never loses any of his family ever again and in the escape arc he has one of the most beautiful and heart-wrenching scenes in the entire series. there is NO reason he gets so little attention from this fandom other than racism.
#skye's ramblings#MY WHAT. MILLIONTH DON RANT. YOU UNDERSTAND.#i KNOW he'd be this fandoms 'sunshine boy too pure for this world uwu' if he was white. you know this#i was going to go over how much i HATE that this fandom loves to reduce his character to this 'lovable dumbass' trope but#i complain abt that a lot so. more general statement my most unpopular opinion is that don is a major character. canon agrees w me. die#also not to act like i care abt shipping but this fandom is weird abt don in that aspect#like. no one besides the person that got me into raydon is willing to pair him with anyone other than gilda#like. fandoms love shipping. you get why its weird hes such a major character n thats the only ship i see for him right#the game says one opinion but shakes my fist no one fucking understands my. my anime boy#anywayay daily reminder if you dont love don tpn im stealing something out of your house!!!!#amantesmortem#shrimps squad#actually im maintagging this fuck it. everyone needs to love don right now#the promised neverland#tpn#tpn don
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You know that one scene in game where valrius spills his drink on MC on purpose? How do you think the other courtiers and Nadia would react if MC got up without saying a word and proceeded to pour their own drink right on valirius head and leaned in real close and said “oops”? I saw a scene like this in a show and thought it was the most badass thing ever xx
(Sorry for the misspelling, I’m god awful with their names)
Oh, yes, I saw that scene. :)
Well, it's going to be fun!
Countess Nadia
As a well-bred ruler of the state, she is extremely amazed. Even more: she's in shock. Moreover, it is unclear why exactly she is more in shock – from Valerius' antics or because of the way the MC answered him.
The surprised Countess runs up to MC and Valerius, wondering what happened, who first started this whole nightmare and for what purpose it was set up. Of course, the question is: "who started it first?" rhetorical. She squints irritably at the blushing Valerius, who clearly did not expect that this act would be noticed.
Nadia reprimands the culprit first: "Consul, I did not expect this from you, your behavior is unacceptable and from this day on I forbid you to appear in rooms where others gather with a glass of wine" – even such a harmless remark can hurt Valerius' self-confidence.
After talking to the adviser, she slowly turns to the MC and already addresses them, with the same stern expression on her face. Yes, the Countess is strict, but very fair and wants everyone to get what they deserve. "MC, I understand that you are angry at Valerius because of this terrible act, but try not to do it again. This is not worthy of any reaction. Now let me deal with your stain on your clothes."
As a result, Valerius, hurt by pride, goes to wash his hair and grumbles, and Nadia leaves MC next to her to discuss what happened. She intends to have this conversation with both MC and Valerius when he gets himself in order.
"MC, I am very ashamed of my adviser, I apologize for his antics. I'll talk to him and try to make sure he doesn't try to embarrass you anymore."
Nadia will definitely make Valerius apologize to MC. And the MC will also be obliged to apologize for what he did: she doesn't want people around her to conflict or hate each other.
Quaestor Valdemar
They are not doing anything to stop what is happening. Seriously, they absolutely don't care about this brawl, they just act as a silent observer who came to watch an unfunny cheap performance.
Not a single emotion flashes on their face, but their eyes are closely watching both MC and Valerius. But at the same time Valdemar is not on anyone's side.
When the MC takes and pours wine on Valerius' head, the reaction still appears: they laugh softly, hissing into their fists, squinting their eyes. It's almost impossible to see or hear.
Since their face is hidden by a medical mask, it is difficult to determine: is Valdemar funny or are they just snorting contemptuously? Oh, no, it's really something like a laugh. They haven't had this much fun in a long time.
At the end of this meeting, they will not say anything to MC or Valerius, but they will remember this case for a long time.
Valdemar could not resist and nevertheless inserted their remark: "Valerius, you should not have taken this fatal step. Your pride is wounded," and then spreads into a wide toothy smile that can be seen even through the mask.
In their opinion, this is a good way to put the arrogant Valerius in his place, so they have nothing against it.
Pontifex Vulgora
Get ready. Their laughter will shake the whole room, and Valerius' rage will become uncontrollable, because "no one dares to laugh at the supreme consul!". But Vulgora clearly doesn't care.
"FUCK, VALERIUS, NOW YOUR HEAD LOOKS LIKE YOU'VE ALREADY HAD YOUR SKULL CRUSHED!"
They catch judgmental glances at themselves, but they don't care at all. They laugh uncontrollably, flavoring their laughter with prickly and witty comments. Finally, this reception has become less boring.
Vulgora does not care about the condemnatory views and comments of everyone present. In a fit of emotion, they can hit something in a hurry and it will definitely suffer.
For example, it can be a vase. And it will be noisy until the Pontifex releases them and they come to their senses, or until the Countess calms them down.
But even after that, they will remember this situation for a long time and make rude jokes on this topic.
Vulgora are even proud that they did not miss this reception and saw the spectacle while being at the forefront.
Preator Vlastomil
Looks at the spectacle with a bit of surprise. Not that what was happening was important to him, because all this time he was busy looking at the worms that he carried in the folds of his clothes and woke up only when he heard Valerius's indignant scream.
"What's going on here?! You are scaring my children!" – he is outraged, for the most part, not by what the MC did, but by the fact that because of Valerius, who began to resent loudly, his worms hid back in the folds of his clothes and now refuse to come out again.
When he sees Valerius doused with wine, he is not thrilled. Now there is a smell of this drink around, because of which his worms will definitely not crawl out now.
However, he is still watching this scene. After all, what else does Vlastomil like besides worms? That's right, gossip. Fresh gossip. Therefore, he discards indignation and collects material for gossip related to Valerius. This is a great reason to put him in front of everyone in an unfavorable light.
Do not be surprised if in a few days the whole palace will be talking about it. Vlastomil, of course, if he is suspected, will say that he has nothing to do with it, but since he is the only most avid gossip here, you should not believe him.
Valerius' reputation has suffered because of him.
Procurator Volta
Like Vlastomil, she wasn't particularly interested in this meeting. She was fascinated by the food she had secretly brought into the room and was just eating all the time.
Exactly until the room was filled with the smell of poured wine on Valerius' hair. She giggles softly, unable to contain her laughter. Valerius is always so proud and arrogant, and now he's so awkward and funny.
"Now Valerius smells so nice of the drink!" – she squeaks.
If Vlastomil is the main gossip of the palace, then Volta deservedly takes second place. Together with him, she, occasionally laughing, and discussing with him all the awkwardness of the incident.
When the performance is interrupted by Nadia's remarks, Volta quickly loses interest in this small scandal and returns to eating again.
#the arcana#the arcane game#nix hyrda#the arcana courtiers#quaestor valdemar#pontifex vulgora#the arcana vulgora#valdemar#vulgora#procurator volta#praetor vlastomil headcanons#praetor vlastomil#quaestor valdemar the arcana game#valdemar quaestor#quaestor valdemar headcanons#valerius headcanons#consul valerius#valdemar headcanons#arcana#the arcana headcanons#the arcana courtiers headcanons#countess nadia
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TntDuo Reunion
A revived man strolls idly through Las Nevadas, gut swirling with anticipation as he weaves into late night casino crowds.
“Wilbur?” Quackity appears from around the corner. “Hey man, good to see you!” His gold tooth glints falsely with a welcoming grin. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, you know, I was just…” Wilbur trailed off with sarcastic sheepishness, looking at the man. “In the area.”
“Uh huh, right. In the area.” Quackity shakes his head, head ducking with disbelief. “You’re a funny guy, Wilbur.”
“Glad you noticed.” The revived man teases.
Quackity only hums in response. He stands with his hands in his pockets, stance wide (ready for a fight).
Wilbur appraises the shorter man before him, taking in the worn beanie stuffed onto his head sticking out like a sore thumb compared to the pristine state of his suspenders. It was the same blue hat after all these years. His posture was more slouched than it had been when Wilbur saw him last, straining under the weight of a long presidency.
He decides to continue to play their game of rivals, until he could introduce a new (and better) one.
“I see you kept the sunglasses I gave you.” He gestures at the pair of brilliant red and gold-rimmed frames on Quackity’s face.
“I like to hold onto nice things.”
“That’s a pretty pair if I do say so myself.” Wilbur agrees. “I never told you this, but I actually bought them with you in mind.”
“Oh really?” Quackity’s tone is monotone, gaze cold.
“Really,” The revived man continues. “They’re much too fancy for a man like me. Much better suited for the President of Las Nevadas.” Wilbur gestures at the skyscrapers surrounding them, the needle towering above.
“Well I agree with you, Wilbur.” A smile stretches across the casino master’s face like cutting glass. “Maybe I should continue to hold onto them since I’m that well suited.”
Typically at this point, Wilbur would be expected to scowl or to ‘break character’ away from their charade of friendliness. Anger would feed anger, passion with passion, and they would leave this conversation both viscerally unsatisfied- as their twin black holes would continue to suck away at any chance of happiness between them and others in their lives.
Wilbur wants to try something new.
“I want you to, they’re a gift. And besides.” Wilbur pauses with uncharacteristic nervousness. “I thought that you should have something to remember me by when I-”
“When you left.” Quackity finishes for him with flint in his voice.
“Yeah, when I left.”
A tumbleweed blows in the background.
“You fucking suck, Wilbur.” The words came out with spitting, and this isn’t how Wilbur wanted this to go.
“... Yeah.” He deserves Quackity’s anger.
Quackity storms to him and fists his shirt. His singular eye flashes with rage. “You left Tommy!”
Wilbur stared at him sadly.
“You-” He yanks him down. “Have so much to answer for. You think a fucking pair of sunglasses is good enough for leaving without saying anything?” He yanks him harshly. “And don’t even get me started on what you did to Tommy. He came straight here after you ditched him for Utah.”
“I couldn’t be around him anymore.” Wilbur admits.
“What the fuck?” Quackity said with eyebrows pinching. His eyes flash with the start of understanding, hands shaking. “That’s fucking bullshit! You’re basically his-”
“Yeah… I know.”
Quackity’s grip tightens around the lapels of Wilbur’s coat, face twisting unhappily. Wilbur doesn’t hide, letting him observe his unresisting figure.
“I abandoned him. My loyal, dutiful soldier who looked at me like I held the universe in the palm of my hand.” A rueful smile curls his lips, filled with self-hatred. “Tell me Quackity, what happens when someone gives you that level of trust, who cares so much about your good opinion of them that they’re willing to do whatever it takes to be in your good graces?”
The shorter man’s hold stays firm, eyes glinting with flinty accusation. “I wouldn’t know.”
“I think you do.” Wilbur’s figure is unresistant in the other’s grasp. “Tommy needed to learn how to live for himself. But even more, Quackity-'' He straightens in his old enemy’s hold. “If I stayed, I would never get to be the good guy in his story.” An unspoken addition passes between their locked gazes.
Quackity lets him go harshly, backing away a few steps and eying him wearily. “Why are you here, Wilbur?”
“To say hello.” Wilbur puts his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to see if the year I was gone was kinder to you.” They both knew it was not, but he didn’t dare to say anything.
“...Congratulations, you saw me.” Quackity spits out. “Now leave my fucking country before I make you.”
Wilbur observes the beanie starting to tilt onto the side of Quackity’s head, dark circles etched into his skin. The revived man pulls out his carton of smokes and pulls out a piece of gum, extending an olive branch as he offers the stick to him.
The president of Las Nevadas glares at the offered gum.
“It’s bubblegum.” Wilbur says helpfully.
Quackity stares at it for a moment before reluctantly taking the stick and unwrapping it. “What the fuck. Where did you put your smokes?”
“Threw them away.” Wilbur states around his gum.
Quackity scoffs. “Yeah right.”
Wilbur steps forward into his space, grabbing Quackity’s worn hand and bringing it over to the carton. His finger taps the brand, a blue and red poker chip that is worn and scratched. “This is the last box I ever bought.”
Quackity takes the carton and fingers the dents and aged cardboard. The color of his eyes burn in a way that makes Wilbur want to open his skull and peer into the flames. A few fragile heartbeats pass between them.
“Got rid of them after the first two weeks of working at a gas station.” Wilbur supplies, watching for Quackity’s reaction. “My manager got nicotine patches. Nicoderm at first, the highest dose, until I weaned off of it and wore the occasional home-brew patch she concocts in her lab.”
“You guys had a drug van?” Quackity asks, not moving away from the revived man’s grip.
“More like a rusty recovery shack funded by local addicts.” Wilbur adds.
“You’re kidding me.” Quackity guffawed. His reaction makes a small smile twitch on the revived man’s face. “What are the odds, man. Some things never change.”
“What can I say, Quackity.” The name passes through his mouth reverently. “An old dog doesn’t learn new tricks to change the way it bites.”
“No way, shut up.” Quackity’s eyes lighten for the first time in their encounter. “You actually did it again?”
“Helped her set up the lab and her first customer.” Wilbur agrees easily. “Though I try to not get on vegan burger duty.”
“Why, cause your burgers are shit?”
Wilbur smirks back. “If Salt Lake City got a taste, the repressed bastards would never let me leave.”
“Utah doesn’t get to have an opinion on food.” Quackity retorts. “And my actually still-running restaurant would one hundred percent wipe yours.”
“It’s had a year to thrive without my interference.” Wilbur draws away, pocketing his carton of gum. “Though I wouldn’t say no to trying one, just to be sure it's up to par with mine.”
“Whatever you say, asshole.” Quackity rolls his eyes before grabbing the revived man’s sleeve (his short stature making it look comically childish) and dragging him away to the diner the block down. “We’re also selling milkshakes now, by the way.”
“I’m lactose intolerant, Quackity.”
“...No you’re not.”
“...”
“Wait really?”
A smile spreads across Wilbur’s face.
“Jerk.”
Quackity later moves a chef aside (only because it's 3pm and business is slow) to make a vegan burger for Wilbur, who only interferes to add in two splashes of paprika to his patty. And then some chopped onions, and a little Rosemary. Another patty ends up in there at some point as well, resulting in a meal they cooked together.
They eat their vegan burgers and split a strawberry shake between them.
Wilbur chucks a fry at Quackity’s serious face.
“Two can play at that, asshole.” Quackity dips a fry in ketchup and smears a glob onto his old rival’s forehead.
“I have been blessed by Prime.” Wilbur reaches blindly to smear a ketchup dick onto his forehead. “Take me to the nearest priest, Quackity, I’m the next Grilled Cheezus.”
“Not if that's how you treat Ketchup.”
Wilbur shrugs before sitting back down. “Maybe Prime's into that. Say Quackity, if I'm a holy relic, am I unbanned from your country?”
“Your ban's just been doubled.”
“I was hoping you’d reconsider now that I am showing humble patronage to the local church.”
“I don’t let dicks into my country.” Quackity flicks the symbol on Wilbur's head.
Wilbur hums, face slightly warm at the contact. “You know, I’m not sure where we should go for our next date then.”
“Go next?” Quackity’s forehead furrows with confusion. “Did you just say date?”
Wilbur’s eyes widened at the slip of his tongue. “Or whatever you want it to be.” He blunders helplessly as his throat closes briefly.
Quackity’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “I'd rather know what you wanted it to be.”
The revived man pauses, scratching his neck. “Well, I’ve moved back permanently so I thought…”
Quackity leans back, scoffing. “What, we could have another little get together so you could manipulate your way back into my good graces?”
Wilbur resists the urge to roll his eyes. The safe route would be to fall right back into their old dynamic of biting words and charged rivalry. It would feel safer, and easier on the both of them. But that wasn’t
The smaller man rolls his eyes. “You expect me to believe that?”
Wilbur puts down his burger, appetite lost. “Quackity, do you want to know the truth?”
Quackity eyes him wearily, gaze hardening at the lack of Wilbur willing to play their game. “What is it?”
“I came here to start over with you. Not because of any sort of guilt really, or to make up for leaving.” Wilbur admits. He exhales resolutely. “There’s always been something between us, and I want to know what it is.”
The president of Las Nevadas’ eyebrows raise. “Wilbur, you want to sleep with me?”
Wilbur steals the shake back. That side of him is a whole can of worms he doesn’t want to open tonight. “Would you believe me if I said I just want to get to know you better?”
“We’ve known each other for years.” Quackity folds his arms. “I’m not hanging out with you for that reason.”
“What’s your favorite color?” Wilbur suddenly asks. “What do you do when you’re stressed, or really fucking happy?”
“Yellow, smoking, and smoking on The Needle.” Quackity deadpans. “So now that I answered your inane question, are we done?”
“I particularly like blue on stormy days.” Wilbur supplies instead of acknowledging his question. “And sometimes when I’m stressed, I chew gum and stick it under Tommy’s bench to piss him off. I haven’t felt happy in years.”
“Wow.” Quackity reacts genuinely, reluctantly intrigued. “Did Tommy find out?”
“Shroud caught me. Clever little kid bribed me for free cookies for a month.” Wilbur answers with a small laugh. He eyes his companion. “Why the Needle?”
“It's my pride and joy.” Quackity answers like it’s obvious. “Represents where I started, and lets me see 360 degrees what I’ve accomplished since.”
Wilbur raises their milkshake. “And what an accomplishment you’ve made, getting these onto the menu.”
“You... do like strawberry.” Quackity admits.
“Anything fruit.” Wilbur agrees, secretly pleased Quackity remembered his sweets preference. “I have a soft spot for any of the reds. Strawberry, cherry, pomegranate, anything of the sort. I also like long walks on the beach, Guuci, and the attention of a certain little man in front of me.”
“Little, huh." Quackity laughs incredulously. "Wow and I thought you wanted to be friends again.”
“I'd like that a lot, Quackity.” Wilbur realizes confidently as he says the words.
"...” Quackity looks away to hide his face.
“Really.” Wilbur pushes his shake over to Quackity. “I’ll even share my shake with you.”
“Wow, exclusive shake privileges from the Wilbur Soot. I’m honored.” Quackity composes himself and takes a long sip.
“Sufficiently bribed, I hope.” Wilbur pretends he isn't looking at him hopefully.
Quackity snorted and continued to suck on the straw. “I own this place.”
Wilbur hums, smiling at him fondly. “Fair enough.” He straightens in the booth as an idea pops into his head. “Say, Quackity, what is your least favorite hobby?”
“Fishing and hanging out with you. Why?”
Wilbur smirks. “Lets fish and spar.”
“Spar?” Quackity scoffed. “Now why the hell would I do that?”
“Because it's my least favorite thing to do.” Wilbur drops, standing up while grabbing the last fry. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
“I never agreed to- hey!” Quackity protests as Wilbur walks out the door, waving behind him. He sits down, shaking his head with a smile of disbelief and sparkling eyes. “Man, what the hell is wrong with this guy.”
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@nessynoname shaking my fist at character limits
I'm gonna do my best here. I'm still on Taris, and it's been years since I played through it the first time so my memory might be a little shaky on some things. Plus I'm sleep-deprived so. Brain functioning at 100% capacity lol
There are a few things I find deeply fascinating.
1. The idea of "mercy" being taken to a harmful extreme (specifically by the Jedi, toward Revan)
2. The way both Bastila and Carth, either conciously or subconciously, try to sway Revan's opinions on the Jedi, Sith, Malak, and pre-game Revan
3. Revan??? Memories? I don't? I don't know how to say what's in my head, but Revan having all of that torn away from them. All those memories, all those decisions - gone. There's obviously still something beneath the mire, but the absolute violation that would be. There are the implications, depending on what new choices Revan makes. Does Revan stand by what they did? Do they not? Are they a different person, the same, or a natural evolution of who they were?
There has to be residual trauma in Revan. How does that manifest? My own trauma is significantly different, but I do sometimes wonder if it's right for me to feel it - and I have to wonder if Revan feels the same, especially given the whole memory thing. I don't remember if they get their memories back by the end of the game, but if they don't, if they have to live with a significant chunk of their life missing because of mercy boy that's gotta fuck them up.
It'd probably fuck them up even with their memories back, tbh.
4. I'm just also...like. Imagine hearing Carth and Bastila talk about the horrible things Malak, Revan, and their Sith have done. Imagine agreeing with Carth and Bastila that these things are terrible. Imagine thinking that these people need to be stopped at all costs - and then you learn you were one of the people who started it all.
But conversely, imagine being Bastila or Carth and trying to make this memory-less version of Revam understand how terrible their actions were, but even without those memories they keep agreeing with Revan and Malak, even without the full context behind their actions. Imagine wondering if this had been hiding in them all along and wondering if there really was no chance for them and if even something this drastic can't incite a change in them, can anything?
I think the biggest thing, though. The thing that's really bouncing around my head? A memory-less Revan making similar choices to pre-game Revan. Not in the big things, not the huge life-or-death, dark-or-light choices, but in the small things. A memory-less Revan that has the same mannerisms, the same favorite snack food, the same favorite kind of music. A memory-less Revan who is so similar to pre-game Revan, but remembers nothing. A Revan who doesn't know they're capable of being Sith, or Jedi, but who can't help but be themself.
I think the Jedi Exile is fascinating too, and I regularly rotate both of them in my head like a rotisserie chicken
Started a new playthrough of KOTOR and the whole concept of Revan is driving me bonkers
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Ok! Angst idea!
So you have an unova zorua/zoroark hybrid reader. Reader goes missing and becomes the protag of PLA. In game it says Unova zoruas and zoroarks became hisuian ones from freezing to death and came back to life because of the sheer power of their spite (which is a fucking MOOD to my stubborn ass!). Well, hybrid reader has that happen to them and, because they are MC they come back as the different variant (death can go fuck itself, they have shit to do!!). They do what Arceus wants and then get sent back home.
How would Leon and Raihan react to their formerly missing s/o (gone for like 6 months to maybe 8 months cuz they were a damn good trainer) Coming back like that. The confusion of that's not them! They look too different! To, holly shit they are back in my arms!! To, realizing why they are so different!! (especially if s/o knows that zorua/zoroark hybrids already are not well liked [maybe dating one is really frowned upon by the league] and with how feared hisuian zorua/zoroark are.... Will they still even be allowed? Hell will they even be wanted???)
-🦄
always. they are always wanted <3
🍓🍓🍓
Leon:
Leon is so relieved to get the call that you've been found that he weeps openly at the meet and greet he was in the middle of. Luckily, most everyone there understands he needs to go (and those that don't are dealt with), so he's able to go without much of a delay. And he all but kicks down the door to where you're being treated in the hospital
But. . . you look different. The dark fur of your hybrid nature that he's used too is now bleached a sickly white, and the aura that surrounds you. . . feels dead. Like you're dead, but you're there, you're right there. Leon shakes off the weirdness, too overwhelmed with having you again to care that much in the moment. He climbs into bed with you whether the doctors say he can or not, and kisses every inch of you he can reach
A few days later, when things are calmer, he carefully treads into the territory of what happened. You're a bit closed off about it, but you slowly open up to why you look different, are different. And Leon only clings to you tighter, horrified and guilt ridden to think that you died in Hisui. And he couldn't protect you. He's one of the strongest trainers, and yet. . . You soothe his guilt with kisses and kinder stories of your time in Hisui
The League has opinions about your relationship. They've always been unsure of it, with you being a Zoroark hybrid, but now that you've evolved into a Hisuian form of the Zoroark (in their opinion, a more dangerous form), they're much more vocal. They badger Leon about breaking things off with you, to which they get their first ever furious verbal bashing from the champion while his fist threateningly clench and unclench as he restrains himself. He won't stand the thought of losing you on purpose, not after being without you so long. Anyone that wants him to abandon you is torn a new asshole, then sent packing if they persist. Leon doesn't need that, and neither do you. He loves you too much to put up with it
Raihan:
Arceus is kind enough to drop you off right into your shared apartment. Raihan gets the fright of a lifetime, not recognizing you with your new white fur and ghostly appearance. But once your voice and face register in his brain, the man tackles you, consuming you into a tight hug that he doesn't budge from for a good hour. But, if you wince or whimper from any injuries you still have, Raihan takes the hug on the road, to the nearest hospital, where the doctors have to work around him
Raihan doesn't mention your changes, nor does he post anything about this besides the bare minimum information, to protect you from any sort of unwanted attention, well meaning or otherwise. You're finally back afters months of being missing, and you're struggling to readjust to city life as it is. With Motostoke being quite a loud city, Raihan keeps any extra struggling away from you best he can. You'll talk about it once you're better
You bring it up one night, when things are quiet. You whisper to Raihan about your time in Hisui, the things that happened that led to you being this way. Raihan holds you through your grief and wet anger, promising himself to not let anything else touch you, not after the torture you experience. He refuses to do anything evolving his socials or the press with you, unless you specifically ask to join him. Otherwise, he keeps you out of the limelight to give you at least some privacy to heal
The League try to convince Raihan to leave you, now that you've become something they consider "bad for his image." Raihan is lucky some of his friends were with him, lest he punch the fucker out. Raihan lost you once, and he grieved, and now the League thinks it's okay to suggest Raihan consciously break things off with you? After everything? He refuses. He loves you too much to allow some corporate bigwigs to bully him into leaving you. He's never leaving your side again, and anyone that tries to take him from you will face a dragon's wrath
🍓🍓🍓
these two seem like very protective and loyal boys, so there's a better chance of hell freezing over than them leaving you!
hope you enjoyed, lovely! have a good night!!
~Renee
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[2:37 PM]
pairing: ot7 x gn!reader
category: crack, fluff
word count: 539
rating: g
warning(s): cursing, reader is a competitive sore loser, namjoon destruction
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks you.
You nod. “Yes.”
Namjoon gazes at you, expression serious. “There’s no backing out.”
“I understand,” you tell him, “but my decision is final.”
“Alright.” Namjoon sighs. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, but…”
You quirk a brow.
He lays down a draw 4. “I pick green.”
“You shithead!” you whine, glaring at him as you take four cards into your ever-growing hand. “I hate you.”
“Now, now, children, let’s watch our mouths,” Seokjin tells you, although he pointedly looks at you.
You sigh, slumping a bit in your spot while Taehyung scans his hand before laying down a green 3. Jimin drops a 7, and Jeongguk tosses a 9.
The order of the circle goes like this, going clockwise from your position: Taehyung, Jimin, Jeongguk, Yoongi, Seokjin, Hoseok, and Namjoon. You’re on Namjoon’s receiving hand, which is not a good spot, in your opinion. You have at least 15 cards in your hand while everyone else has less than 10.
You swear this game is rigged, that they’re all teaming up against you.
Yoongi plays his card, a draw 2. Seokjin plops a red one. Hoseok adds another red draw 2, then Namjoon a blue one.
And of course you don’t have one to add so you don’t have to draw.
“Fuck this shit!” you grumble, yet you draw 8 cards anyway. Your competitive nature denies you from backing out, that you still have a chance to win even though the situation is bleak.
Another round passes. Namjoon declares Uno, holding a single card left. You can only hope Hoseok will fuck him up so he doesn’t win, but the likelihood of Namjoon having a wild card is high, knowing his insane luck. You play a yellow 3, practically feeling sweat rolling down your spine. Your tummy grows queasier as each member plays a card, and you feel about ready to vomit when it’s Namjoon’s turn.
Please don’t play a wild card, or a matching color, you internally beg to whoever’s listening upstairs. Please…
Namjoon sighs. “Well, apologies, guys.”
You screech in complete devastation when Namjoon plays a regular wild card. The other members groan in defeat. You smack your cards on the floor and tackle Namjoon, straddling him while punching Namjoon’s chest with a fist.
“You asshole!” you say, so mad you feel like you’ll combust. “You sonavabitch! I hate you!”
Jeongguk has to lift you off Namjoon, who’s grinning at your sore loss. You struggle in Jeongguk’s grip, kicking your feet, wriggling, trying to attack the bastard who destroyed you.
“Lemme at him!” you seethe. “Lemme rip out his throat!”
“Okay, time for timeout,” Seokjin says, sighing and shaking his head. “Jeongguk, take them away.”
“Yes, sir.” Jeongguk lifts you over his shoulder, and you scream in frustration, pounding his back in distaste, yet your hits have no effect on the muscular dude.
You’re limp when Jeongguk dumps you on your bed, pouting like a baby.
“You’re fine,” he tells you, lying beside you with his phone in hand. Out of all the members, you feel closest to Jeongguk, since he’s the same age as you. “Let’s watch some animal vids.”
You huff. “Fine."
© thekaykery 2022
#btsgoldnet#btscarnivalnet#bts#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts crack#bts timestamps#ot7 smut#ot7 angst#ot7 fluff#ot7 crack#ot7 timestamps#code: elysia
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tavern music
synopsis: corpse hears tavern music coming from your room (gn!reader)
warnings: rpf, reader gets cheated on, kind of unrequited feelings, mostly hurt/comfort and physical affection tho (what im trying to say is that this is mostly self indulgent)
wc: 1.7k
a/n: havent written in a while but i found this in my arsenal, fixed it up a bit and viola. original plans for this was definitely something longer that would end with them being together but im not up for writing rn. been feeling really shitty lately and ive been needing something like this in my life. hope u guys like it ♡
He couldn’t hear it at first. His headset was on and everyone was being so loud on the discord call. When he started the stream, he really thought it was gonna be a long one. But he’s only two hours in and he’s ready to get the hell off because something was definitely wrong.
“Corpse?” His name being spoken finally broke him out of his trance, he only hummed in response. “You’ve been really quiet. Are you sure you’re up for another game?”
“Actually,” he starts as he closes a few tabs, “I think I’ve gotta go. Today was fun, though. Thanks for having me guys.”
After a chorus of ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s, Corpse disconnected from the discord call. “Thank you guys for being here,” he addressed the chat, “sorry I’m ending so early today. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time. Take care of yourselves. Later.”
After hanging up his headset and getting out of the chair he’s been sitting in for far too long, Corpse made the short trek to your room.
You had only been roommates for less than four months, but Corpse could confidently say that you have become one of his closest friends. Getting a roommate was the last resort that he never wanted to actually resort to. But alas, medical bills were piling up and youtube and music don’t make half as much money as people think they do. So cutting rent in half was the best plan he could come up with. He did have an extra guest room that no one ever stayed in. Of course having someone move into his personal space was terrifying to him. He didn’t just want to post an ad on craigslist or something. So he asked a couple trusted friends to ask a couple trusted friends… And that’s when you came in.
You were the trusted friend of a trusted friend of a trusted friend. When you met, you didn’t make a comment about his voice. Your face sure as hell showed your surprise but you didn’t say anything. To Corpse, this meant one of two things. You either knew who he was but didn’t want to freak him out, or you didn’t know about his online persona and were just genuinely shocked by his voice. It only took a few minutes of knowing you to know that it was the latter. Thank god. You were like anyone your age with social media. You had a few accounts, followed a few people, but mostly used it to stay in contact with friends.
It only took you guys a week to realize you had way too much in common. After many a late night when he wasn’t streaming, and many an early morning when he was just done streaming, you two became inseparable. Nothing could keep you apart.
Except for one thing.
You had a boyfriend.
There was nothing wrong with your boyfriend, per se. Just the fact that he was your boyfriend and Corpse was not.
Yeah, Corpse definitely had feelings for you.
But right now, feelings didn’t matter when he could hear tavern music coming from your room.
He knocked lightly and pushed the door open slowly. “y/n? Can I come in?”
No response came, just sniffles and sobs. The lack of refusal on your part gave him the courage he needed to open the door wider and step into your room. He had only been in your room a couple of times since you had moved in. But he had never been in a room that gave off the feeling of a person so well.
You were curled up on your bed, facing your open laptop screen and the tavern music coming from its speakers. With every sob shaking your chest, Corpse felt his heart break. “y/n,” he murmured softly, “what’s wrong?”
“It’s not working.” Came your reply, heavy with tears. “You said it would make you feel like you're going on an adventure but I still feel like crap.”
“What happened?” Corpse asked as he sat down on your bed, facing you. You slowly sat up and crossed your legs at your ankles in front of you.
“He-” You sighed heavily. “He cheated on me.”
“What?”
“He cheated on me -has been cheating on me- with my best friend. My little brother found out.” You groaned and dramatically dropped your head onto Corpse’s thigh. His hand immediately came in contact with your cheek as he brushed a few stray tears away.
There was rarely any physical contact between you and Corpse. Sometimes you’d give him a high five, sometimes he’d give you fist bump. And there was that one time you came up behind him at the grocery store and hugged his arm to your chest. You immediately whispered something along the lines of ‘creep won’t leave me alone’ followed by a loud ‘hey babe!’
Corpse could barely admit to himself how much he liked that.
But this? This felt good. Corpse’s large warm hand on your face somehow made you want to cry more but in a good way. The tenderness with which he held your face made your heart squeeze as it remembered moments like this with your boyf- ex boyfriend. But then it remembered your brother’s words.
“Hey, what’s up?” You spoke as you answered his call. Your brother wasn’t much of a caller, so it made you worry.
“Hey, where are you right now?”
“I’m home, why?”
“y/n… There’s something I gotta tell you.” He sighed and you could clearly hear the guilt.
“Did you break my DS!” It was your first thought as you had given it to him the last time you had seen him. “Dude! I’ve had that since I was seven!”
“No no, I called about something else.” He cut you off mid-whine. “But also I did lose the pen.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration but stayed silent so he could tell you what he wanted to tell you. “I saw your boyfriend at the park today.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?” How did this warrant a phone call?
“He was with Bob.”
When you had met your best friend, your brother was only a toddler. He had decided that her name was Bob, so it stuck. You always called her Bob, she was saved as Bob in your phone, your whole family called her Bob. But you still didn't understand. Why was he calling you to tell you that your boyfriend and your best friend were at the park?
“Why are you calling me about this? You know that they’re friends, right?” You let out a chuckle, albeit still pretty confused. “They’re allowed to hang out without me.”
“They weren’t hanging out.” You could hear your brother push out a strained sigh. What wasn’t he telling you? “They were making out on the swing set. As in, both of them on one swing. And I double checked, it was definitely them. I-I told mom and she said not to tell you, but I couldn’t not tell you when I’m the one who saw it!”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word.
“I’m sorry, y/n.”
There was no lying to yourself, you had doubts about your best friend and your boyfriend. But you constantly brushed it off. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. Hell, she couldn’t hurt like that. Not after everything you had been through together.
But you had seen his call log by accident one time, he called her more than he did you. She face-timed him one time to ask his opinion about a dress she was going to buy while you were in the changing room. She had done a handful of things since your relationship with your boyfriend started that made you uneasy. If this was their first kiss, which was something you doubted, then they’ve both been emotionally attached to the other for far too long.
All those tender intimate moments, all those dates, throughout everything, he wasn’t faithful. Not emotionally, at least. None of those moments that you cherished meant anything to you anymore. He had played you. With none other than your best friend since middle school. You didn’t know who to be more mad at.
The thoughts of betrayal from someone who you considered a sister and the hurt of being cheated on made you nauseated.
So when the large warm hand on your face stroked your cheek again, you didn’t mind it. This was Corpse. Not your cheating boyfriend. Not your lying best friend. Corpse. And you knew that he would never hurt you.
“He’s been cheating on me for a while I think.” You mumbled against his sweatpants. “Maybe a couple months. I don’t know.”
Corpse furrowed his brows in thought. You had told him you were going to visit your boyfriend for your one year anniversary next week. “Weren’t you go-”
“Yeah.”
“And Bob’s been your friend since-”
“Yeah.” Your chin wobbled as you answered. You brought your arms up around Corpse’s thigh and hugged it. It was a strange position, but you didn’t care. He was so warm and nice and hugging him properly required more movement on your end than you were willing to do.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Corpse sighed and reached out to untangle your arms from his leg. He gently pulled you across the few inches of bed between you and sat you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, immediately sobbing into his shoulder. “Do you want me to turn off the music?” You shook your head no against him and he chuckled before he solemnly sighed. “When did you find out?”
“When I came home.”
“But you came home hours ago. Have you been in here this whole time?” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were streaming, didn’t wanna interrupt.” You shrugged.
“y/n,” he sighed disappointedly, “you’re my best friend. I can end a stream if you need me.”
“Okay.” Your voice, broken and weak and tired, made him feel so guilty. You had been crying your heart out for over two hours just down the hall from where he was.
He gently grabbed you by your hips and tried to push you away, but you only held on tighter and whimpered. “I just wanna get you some water.”
“I don’t want water.”
“Then what do you want?”
“You.” You whispered. “Please stay.”
Fuck. How could he say no to that?
So he stayed.
#corpse#corpse husband#corpse x reader#corpsehusband#corpse husband x reader#corpse husband fanfiction#corpse husband fanfic#corpse husband fluff#corpse fanfiction#corpse fanfic#corpse fluff#gender neutral reader
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Highlight Of The Summer
Summary: You’re staying with your cousin for the summer, and it turns out to be the best decision you’ve ever made
OR
The four times you tease Matsukawa and the one time he pays you back
Pairing: Matsukawa Issei x black!fem!reader
Warnings: a whole lot of sexual tension, sexual tendencies, use of drugs: weed, shotgunning, a whole lot of teasing, (smut 18+!!), unprotected sex (stay safe out there dudes!), fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (m. receiving), throat fucking, ass slapping, daddy kink, nipple play, little fluff and aftercare at the end LMAO
Word Count: 5,847 (words of just filth)
A/N: I don’t know if y’all know, but I am a WHORE for Mattsun, so please enjoy this for you fellow people who agree with me. Also, this was wayyy longer than I thought it was going to be, but whew chile I got flustered just writing it lmao, so here y’all go. P.S: I also mention something about a sleep bra? Like a bra that’s not a bra bra but it’s not a sports bra either?? Idk what it’s called so, I just called it a sleep bra lol
PART TWO//PART THREE
"I forgot to mention, I need to warn you, dude," Hanamaki speaks up as he passes the ball to Matsukawa, who continues peppering, but now there's a confused look on his face.
"Warn me about what?" he questions playfully, spiking a controlled ball to Makki.
"My cousin's coming into town, and she’s staying the whole summer." Makki's words show that he's annoyed, and Mattsun chuckles.
"Okay. Still doesn't tell explain why you had to warn me."
"She's crazy, man. And gets on my last nerve." Mattsun chuckles again at his best friend's opinion. He goes to respond, but a voice stops him before he can speak.
"Hiro!!" Hanamaki catches the ball as his head drops as he lets out a groan. Mattsun watches a figure run up behind Makki, and they wrap an arm around his shoulders, catching him off guard as his body falls forward slightly. "How's my favorite cuzzo doing, huh?"
"Was doing just fine until you came," he spits, and you laugh.
"Oh, come on, cuz, don't be like that. I know you love me deep down, don't fight it." You laugh again when he throws your arm off his shoulders, and your laugh stops when you land on the guy standing a few feet away from him. "Now, Hiro, why didn't you tell me that you had hot friends?"
Mattsun feels his face heat up at your sudden compliment as he lets out a choked laugh. You walk forward a bit as you start talking. "I'm l/n f/n, but I'm willing to change my last name to yours. Care to tell me what it is?"
You finish with a smirk, and you can help but feel more confident when he gives you a slow once over. "Ma--"
"None of your business," Makki cuts him off, and you roll your eyes as you turn to him.
"Oh, come on, man, don't be like that. I'm gonna find out anyway because I'm gonna be staying with you." His eyes widen at your statement as you smile widely at him. "Oh, you didn't hear? Our moms thought it was a good idea to let me stay with you. For the whole summer." You pause before saying the last sentence for dramatic effect, and your smile doesn't falter as Hanamaki's scowl gets deeper.
"You have to be fucking with me right now," he says, and you shake your head eagerly, knowing that he can't refuse.
"Nope. I'll go get my bags from the car." You bound over towards him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders before rubbing the top of his head with your fist. "This is going to be so much fun," you say excitedly, and he shoves you off of him.
You chuckle and start to walk off to your car, but not before you send a wink to the hot guy standing in front of you.
You bounce happily to your car, and Makki lets out a tired sigh as he fixes his hair, his face showing how pissed he is when he looks at Mattsun, making him chuckle. "She's...something."
"ONE more game, alright?" Makki pleads, and Mattsun rolls his eyes but gives in.
"Fine." Mattsun's phone dings twice and he picks it up quickly before Makki can see the screen.
"Someone important?" he jokes, and Mattsun doesn't look him in the eye as he struggles to find an answer. "You gonna tell me who it is?" Mattsun gives him a look that tells it all, and Makki scoffs. "How'd she get your number?"
"From your phone obviously, Hiro," you bud in, your face right next to Makki's as he jumps away from you. "You know your phone password is really easy. You should change that."
"What did you do?" he asks, and you wave him off as you stand upright behind the couch.
"Oh, relax, just his number...and I sent a few selfies of you to myself." Makki scoffs again as he turns to look at you. "You know, to post for your birthday."
Makki releases an angry sigh as he stands, mumbling something about going to the bathroom, and you roll your eyes at his dramatics as you smile.
You glance at Mattsun, who's not looking your way, and a devilish smirk makes it way onto your face as an idea comes to your mind, your core pulsing at the idea of it.
"You know, Hiro always loved to collect movies," you say out loud, more to yourself, testing how he reacts.
"Yeah, it's gotten bigger since I've last seen it," he responds easily, and you hum as you walk around the couch, making your way towards the entertainment center around the TV full of movies.
"It's been a while since I've seen it, but it's definitely grown since then." When you get to the entertainment center, you bend over to look at the movies on the lower shelves when you hear Mattsun's breath hitch behind you.
You know that these are a shorter pair of your shorts, you must've put these in the dryer by accident, and you can feel that a good portion of your ass is out, and the fact that you know he's watching you, sends a jolt right down to your core.
You don't know what it is about this guy, but teasing him riles you so easily that you can feel your juices staining your shorts. You bend over a little further, and your smirk widens when you hear a muffled groan come from behind you.
When you hear footsteps coming from the hallway, you stand back up and turn around, the both of you keeping your eyes on each other as you walk towards the couch just as Makki is coming into the living room.
Makki sits where he was sitting, his attention still on his phone, and you walk to the back of the couch, leaning down next to Mattsun's ear, the one that Hiro can't see.
"If it wasn't obvious," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear, "that wet spot was for you." Your tongue darts out to touch his earlobe, pulling on it lightly with your teeth, chuckling softly when you see his hands grip the controller harder.
You stand up and start walking out of the living room. "Make sure you guys keep the noise down, 'kay?" you say as you disappear down the hallway.
Meanwhile, Mattsun's solely focusing on not getting a boner with his best friend right next to him. "She say something nasty to you?" Makki speaks up, making Mattsun jump.
"W-What?"
"Yeah, sorry about that. She's always saying some out of pocket shit." Makki clearly doesn't understand what kind of out of pocket statement you just said to him, and he clears his throat as he nods, thinking about anything but you as he tries to control himself.
TWO sounds come from behind you as you're sitting in the backyard. A sliding door and footsteps coming closer to you. "I'd knew you'd join me sooner or later."
He chuckles. "Yeah, well, I wanted to see what your definition of 'surprise' was."
You laugh lightly as you reveal your surprise without looking at Mattsun, the little plastic bag in your hand.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"Yep," you respond, popping the 'p' as you turn to him. "Found Hiro's secret stash. Wanted a smoke buddy. You down?"
You look back at him, and he shrugs saying fuck it as he sits in the lounge chair next to yours. You roll the first one, putting it in your mouth as you flick the lighter. You take the first drag, coughing a little as you blow out the smoke. "Damn. Should've known that Hiro had the strong stuff."
You pass it to Mattsun who does the same as you before passing it back to you. You both pass it back and forth two more times before you speak again. "You ever shotgunned before?" you ask, your brain already feeling like it's slowing down. He keeps his eyes on you as he shakes his head slowly.
"Wanna try?" He thinks about it for a second before nodding once. You clumsily find your way to get up without dropping the blunt and walk over to where he's sitting. You rest your free hand on his shoulder as you lift one leg, moving it to the other side of the chair as you straddle him.
You bite your lip as you sit on his lap, feeling him through the thin material of both of your shorts. His hands find purchase on your waist, his fingers rubbing on the exposed skin under your crop top.
You keep your eyes on his as you pull from the blunt, and your other hand finds the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair as you bring his head closer, your lips dangerously close to touching.
You breathe out, both of you watching the smoke go from your mouth to his. You watch as he breathes in then tilts his head up to breathe the smoke out. He blinks slowly as he tilts his head back down, both of you maintaining eye contact as he grabs the blunt out of your hand.
You watch as he takes a hit, and one of his hands runs up your back to grab at your neck, a shiver running through your spine the opposite way. He pulls your head down, lips brushing against each other as he exhales into your mouth.
You inhale deeply, lifting your head as you breathe the smoke out. You look back down, keeping your head in the same position, making your lips touch again. "I noticed that you sometimes sleep on the couch," you speak up, your lips keeping close contact, you're almost kissing him.
"Well, the bed I usually sleep in is taken," he quips back, and you lean into his ear.
"You could always join me. I don't bite," you whisper, and you roll your hips forward, and you don't miss the way he releases a shaky breath in your ear, the sound going south easily. "Whaddya say?"
"THREE scoops of ice cream should be enough," you say to yourself as you put the top back on the ice cream container, placing it in the freezer.
You grab a spoon from one of the drawers and find a seat at the island in the kitchen. You're halfway through your ice cream when you hear footsteps coming into the kitchen. "Who eats ice cream at three in the morning?"
You smile at the question as you dig into your ice cream. "Me. What about it?" The owner of the voice walks into your view, standing on the other side of the island. "I didn't wake you, did I?"
He shakes his head. "Nah, I couldn't go to sleep anyway," Mattsun answers honestly. He hasn't been able to sleep well every time he's over here. You suddenly filling up every one of his desires. But one day, he's going to get back at you. The more you tease him, the more he gets riled up.
"Want some?" you ask, sticking the spoon in your mouth and dragging it out slowly, his eyes never leaving your mouth. He nods silently, and you put some ice cream on the spoon, moving the spoon towards his mouth.
He grabs your hand, moving the spoon towards his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. He slowly pulls the spoon out of his mouth, letting go of your hand. "Tastes really good." He stands up, leaning over the counter. "And you've got some," he reaches his hand out, his thumb gliding over your bottom lip. "Right there."
He puts his thumb in his mouth, licking it clean before he smirks at you. Two can play at this game.
You grab his hand, leading it over top of your bowl. "And you've got some," you dip his finger into some of the melted ice cream. "Right there."
You coat it in the creamy liquid before lifting it up to your mouth. Staring right at him, you put the digit in your mouth, tongue flicking all around it, making sure you get all of it off.
He lets out a garbled 'fuck' and you pop the finger out of your mouth, giving him a proud smirk.
"FOUR pancakes? You're gonna eat four pancakes at once?" Mattsun asks his pink-haired friend as said friend stacks them on his plate.
"Yeah, I am," he deadpans, "and you better go wake Y/N up or else she's not getting anything." Makki takes the plate, walking out of the kitchen as Mattsun takes a deep breath as he walks to your room.
He knocks on the door, and when he doesn't get a response, he cracks open the door to see you on your stomach, covers sprawled out everywhere. He lets out a small huff as he smiles, walking towards your sleeping figure.
He can't help it, and the first thing he does is rake his eyes down your body, one leg bent at the knee, the other one straightened out. Your shorts have come up in your sleep, your butt on display, and Mattsun diverts his eyes as he calls your name.
You don't respond, and he leans down to shake you gently. You turn your head, and he can see that your eyes are still closed. "Y/N." He says your name a little louder, shaking you a little harder.
You stir and your eyes open slightly, a sleepy smile coming onto your face when they land on him. "Hey, Issei." You take a deep breath, and Matsukawa ignores the way your sleepy voice saying his name makes him feel. "What's up?"
Your legs switch positions, making your ass shake from the movement, and he wills himself not to look. "Makki made pancakes," is all he can manage to get out, and you roll over on your side to stretch, but that doesn't make things better for Mattsun. Your boobs falling out of the sleep bra you're wearing.
He looks away, willing the thoughts to go away as you stand up, fixing your clothes as you yawn. "You're not gonna put a shirt on?" he asks as you head for the door, and you wave him off.
"Nah, it's too hot. And you like the view too, so..." You trail off, walking out the room as Matsukawa's face turns red.
He takes another deep breath as he follows after you, and you've already made a plate. "Jeez, Y/N, couldn't you put some clothes on?" Hiro complains from his place on the couch and you shrug.
"Well, when you stop turning off the air conditioning during the hottest day of the summer, I would have some clothes on." You pour syrup over your pancakes, and when you see Mattsun watching you, you slide out of your cousin's view.
You put the syrup down before dipping your fingers in the pile of syrup that dripped down from the pancakes onto your plate. You coat them in syrup, lifting your fingers up in front of your mouth, spreading them apart watching the strings connect your fingers.
You look right at him as you stick your fingers in your mouth, and as much as he needs to, he can't look away, and he's teetering on the edge of a dangerous cliff. You see his fists clench as he pushes his lower half into the island.
You pull your fingers out when they're clean, and you walk towards him, setting the bottle of syrup next to his plate. "Seems like you've got a problem there. Let me know if I can help." You walk out, sending him a wink over your shoulder, and he waits until you're out of view to slam his head onto the counter.
"FIVE minutes until what?" Makki asks into his phone, and you see his face drop before he slaps a palm on his forehead. "Shit, that's today? Okay okay, relax, I'll be there in like fifteen." He hangs up the phone, and you watch as he runs into his room, and when he comes out, he dressed a little more formally.
"Wow, who are you getting all dressed up for?" you ask, spreading out on the couch.
"I forgot about this thing my friend wanted me to attend to." He makes sure he has everything before booking it to the door, but not before he turns to you. "Y/N, please behave."
You roll your eyes. "Sure thing, Dad. Have fun." And he leaves.
You lay down on your back on the couch, humming a tune to a song you can't bring yourself to remember the name of when you hear Mattsun walk in. He's shirtless and you assume he just took a shower because he has a towel resting around his neck.
"Did Makki just leave?" he asks you, standing behind the couch, and you nod.
"Yeah, had to do something for a friend. Probably won't be back for a few hours." You put one arm behind your head, the other resting on your stomach as you shift a little, making yourself a little bit more comfortable.
Mattsun's eyes drag down your body, and you feel your body ignite under his gaze. You watch as he walks around the couch, standing where he's looming over you. "Need something?" you ask, and there's a different look in his eyes.
"Stand up." His voice is deeper, darker than it usually is, but you don't move. "I won't tell you again." You don't admit that this new sounding voice makes your core beat in excitement, but you stand anyway, standing right in front of him.
He gives you a smirk that nearly makes your knees go weak, and he steps beside you, taking the towel from around his neck and spreading it out over the couch. You raise an eyebrow, and when he turns around, you go to speak, but he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, crashing his lips onto yours.
You squeak in surprise, but it's easily swallowed as Mattsun kisses your mouth hungrily. His other hand palms your ass, gripping it tightly as he pulls you flush against him. When you gasp, he shoves his tongue in your mouth as your hands find their way onto his broad shoulders.
He breaks the kiss, and it takes you a while to come back to your senses, your head dizzy with lust as you catch your breath. "I don't think you can take it," he says into your neck as he starts planting hot, open mouth kisses, stopping at the bottom of your neck, grabbing the skin there with his teeth, making you hiss.
"T-Take, what?" Your brain is barely keeping up with his words, only focused on what his mouth is doing. You hear him chuckle against your skin as he moves to the other side of your neck, both of his hands now on your ass, and he presses you against him even more, and you can feel his erection digging into your thigh as you let out a quiet moan.
"This dick," he tells you bluntly, and he lifts his head up. Now that he's not on your neck, your head is a little clearer, and you chuckle softly as you raise an eyebrow at him.
"Oh? Confident in your skills I see." You start to drag a hand down his ridiculously toned torso as you start talking. "I've never been one to back down from a challenge." You feel your mouth drop open when you feel how big it is, and Mattsun huffs at you.
"You sure? You don't sound very convincing." You erase the initial look of surprise on your face, replacing it with a confident smirk, making him raise his eyebrows at you. Before you can say anything else, he's spinning the both of you around, pushing you so you're sitting on the couch, the obvious tent in his shorts in your eye line.
You rake your eyes done his naked upper half, eyes zeroing in on the happy trail that disappears into his shorts. He shoves his shorts down his legs, his cock flinging up, hitting his stomach, and your eyes widen when you see his size. He's huge. He's bigger than anyone you've taken, and at your reaction, he smiles. "I thought you don't back down from a challenge?" he picks at you, and lick your bottom lip as you smirk.
You lean forward, taking him in your hand, and you can feel how heavy he is as you guide him towards your mouth, tracing a thick vein with your tongue up the side of his length. You hear let out a deep sigh before you take him into your mouth, and you don't even have him halfway in when you feel your gag reflex surfacing. You try to use your hand on the rest of him that's not in your mouth, but he pushes your hand away.
"Nuh-uh. You can be a big girl and use your mouth," he tells you, and you start to sink further down. "Fuck," he whispers harshly, and his hand finds its way to your hair, and you close your eyes as his grip tightens. He starts to push your head further down his length until your nose is brushing those soft curls. "Shit, your mouth is good for something other than being a tease, who knew?"
He starts thrusting into your mouth, and you relax your jaw as you breathe through your nose, your hands digging into the thick flesh of his thighs, and he hisses at the feeling. The noises he's making are making you even more aroused, and one of your hands leaves his thigh to try to give you some release, but he stops you once again. "Don't you fucking touch yourself. Do it, and you won't, fuck, won't get to cum at all. Shit." You attempt to whimper around his length, the vibration sending a chill down his spine as he feels himself getting closer.
The rhythm of his thrusts starts to become sloppy, and you bring a hand up to tug at his balls, and that sends him over the edge. He cums with a loud groan of your name, you swallowing every last drop before he lets go of your hair, and you fall back against the couch as you catch your breath. He wobbles a little bit as he takes in your disheveled features, drool and tears running down your face, and he feels himself getting hard again.
He pulls you up from the couch, sitting in your spot before pulling you back down on his lap. Your shirt and sports bra are taken off quickly, and he attacks your chest making you cry out in pleasure as your hands grip his hair. His mouth is sucking and biting at one nipple while his hand is stimulating the other and then he alternates.
"Shit, Issei, fuck, please." Your words have no thoughts behind them, your brain no longer operating, and you push him away from you before you stand up, shedding your shorts and sitting back down on his lip, a breathy moan escaping your lips when you feel his dick brush your folds.
He watches your reaction when he lightly drags his fingers back and forth across your folds, and you whine as you grip at his shoulders. "Please don't tease, Issei, c'mon," you beg, and your eyes look at him when you hear him laugh.
"Oh, now you don't like teasing? Maybe I should just keep teasing you and not give you what you want," he proposes, and you shake your head as you rub against his fingers, trying to get some release. He looks down, seeing your folds shining with your juices, a huge strand falling onto his fingers and he holds back a moan. "You're soaked, Y/N, all this for me?" he questions, and you nod your head vigorously.
"Yes, Issei, it's all for you, just please touch me," you plead and he shoves two fingers inside your pussy, making you release a loud moan as you lean your head in the crook of his neck. You can hear the squelching sounds as he fingers you, and you dig your nails into his shoulders as you feel him stretch you out on his thick fingers. "Issei," you start, but a loud smack echoes through the room, and you let out a whine as you feel your ass cheek sting.
"That's not my name, sweet girl. I think I've let you get away with it for long enough, don't you think?" he whispers in your ear and his voice sends a tingle right down to your core, making you clench around him. "Come on, baby, you know what it is." He stops moving his fingers, and you whimper against his neck, trying to move, but his grip on your hip keeps you still. "Say it, pretty girl."
"Daddy, please, don't stop," you sigh out, and you can feel him smile in satisfaction as he continues his fast pace, and you cry into his neck at the sudden movement. "Please, oh, please."
"It's okay, tell Daddy what you want," he coos, and he pushes onto your clit with his thumb, and you arch into him, his fingers a stark contrast to his other hand that's rubbing soothing circles on your hip.
"I need--" You cut yourself off with a scream when he pushes against that spongy spot inside of you.
"Tell Daddy what you need, baby."
"I need you inside me, please." He adds another finger, and you grip his wrist as he curls his fingers inside of you, nailing your g-spot with ease.
"I don't know if you deserve all of that," he responds, and you whimper as you lift your head to look at him. "If I recall, you've been nothing but a tease, no?" You shake your head immediately as you try to move your hips again but failing, his grip still strong on your hip.
"Please, Daddy, I'll be a good girl, just please, I need you so bad." You're so desperate, and that gives Mattsun a thrill; seeing someone who usually knows just what to say to him, reduced to nothing but a begging mess on top of him.
"Well, since you're begging so nicely," he approves, removing his fingers, and you lift your hips up eagerly as you look down, seeing that he's fully hard again, the tip leaking precum. He guides his shaft into you, and you let your head fall back as you feel him stretching you open the best way possible. He groans as he feels your walls tightening around him, and you look down to see that he's still not all the way in, your legs starting to burn from the position you're in.
"Come on, baby, just a little bit more for me. Can you do that for Daddy?" he purrs, soothingly caressing your thighs, and you rest your head against his as you watch the last of him disappear inside of you. "Holy shit, you feel so good. Goddamn, baby," he sighs out, letting you adjust. "I'm gonna move, okay?"
You nod quickly, and you brace yourself as you feel him lift you up before slamming you back down, making you cry out, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside of you. He kisses you roughly, swallowing all of the noises you make as he continues to ram himself inside of you. You pull away as you feel the knot in your stomach starting to tighten.
"I'm close, ah, please don't stop," you cry out, and you feel his fingers digging into your hips, you're sure that there's going to be bruising. "Right there, please, Daddy, right there."
"I got you, baby girl, I got you." His finger finds its way to your clit, rubbing harsh, fast circles, and your orgasm snaps, making your arch your back and scream his name. The sight of your coming undone in front of him and the way your clenching around him, makes his orgasm crash into him right after you. "Fuck!" He fucks you through both of your highs, stopping when you whine at the sensitivity.
You lean forward, body going limp as you catch your breath, both of your bodies covered in a layer of sweat. "You know I'm not done with you yet," he tells you, and you don't get a moment to respond before he's lifting you off of him, and you land on your stomach with a soft thud. He brings your hips up, your back arching instinctively, and he groans at the sight of you.
He prods a finger at your hole, and you whine, trying to move away from his touch, but his grip on you makes it useless. He runs his hands over your ass, squeezing the globes in each hand. "This ass has been teasing me ever since you got here." He spreads your cheeks, getting a good look at your puffy, swollen hole.
"I know it has, it was fun to see you flustered," you respond, your words muffled by the couch, but still clear to Mattsun, and he smiles mischievously as he lifts a hand up, smacking your ass, and he watches it jiggle, the sight mesmerizing as you mewl at the sudden pain.
"That's for bending over in front of me." He smacks the other cheek. "That's for grinding on me." Another smack. "That's for the ice cream." You can feel the heat coming off your ass when he smacks it for a fourth time. "That's for the syrup." You can tell that he's loving this, but you can't say that you aren't, you just hope he doesn't see that. He does it again, and you hiss at the pain, but the pleasure wins out. "That's for walking around here practically naked."
He massages the heated mounds of flesh, and you know he's found you out when you feel him spread them followed by a cocky laugh. "You liked that a lot, huh?" He toys at your hole again, watching your juices gush out, and you wiggle your hips a little. He sticks his fingers in, pulling it out with his fingers covered in your slick, and he groans when he puts them in his mouth. "Fuck, you taste good."
"Are you gonna fuck me or what?" you snap, and you hear him chuckle as he runs his the head of his length across your folds to your hole.
"Now, is that any way to talk to your Daddy? I thought you were gonna be a good girl?" he taunts as he teases your hole, and you exhale forcefully as you give in.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. Please fuck me," you say, and he smiles as you feel him start to push into your hole.
"You're gonna be a good girl? No more being a brat?" he asks, and if you could, you would stomp your foot because he's dragging this out.
"I promise, Daddy. I'll be good." Liking the sound of your answer, he lines himself up, hands resting on your hips, and you scream when he rams into you, your body still sensitive from the first earth-shattering orgasm you had. He doesn't give you time to recuperate as he rears back, slamming into you again, keeping a relentless pace that hits your spot with accuracy.
Mattsun watches your ass shake with the impact, and you both can hear his balls slapping against you as you feel your orgasm approaching quickly. He pulls you up by your hair, pulling your back flush against his, keeping his persistent pace. You share a sloppy kiss as his hands come up to play with your nipples, and you whimper into his mouth, and he groans when you clench around him.
"You gonna cum? Huh?" he sucks on your tongue as he brings a hand down to your stomach, and he brings your hand up to your stomach, and you can feel the bulge which makes you release a broken moan. "Who's making you feel this good?"
"Y-You are, Daddy," you barely manage to answer, and he slides his hand down until he's pressing onto your clit, making the knot in your stomach come closer to snapping.
"You wanna come on Daddy's cock? Huh?" he asks, and you nod easily, your hands finding their way into his hair. "Then do it," he spits. "Cum on Daddy's cock like the filthy slut you are." He gives a firm push on your clit, and that coil snaps hard, your eyes screwing as you scream out his name, your back arching as your hands clamp down on his hair.
He keeps bucking into you, your pussy almost stopping him from moving from how hard you're clamping down on him. "Shit, fuck," he swears, his thrusts losing rhythm and getting sloppy. The last time you clamp down on him, makes him see stars as he cums hard, painting your walls white before you both collapse on the couch, heaving breaths coming from the both of you.
He wraps his arms around you as he turns you both over, keeping himself still sheathed inside of you. "Holy shit. That was, oh, my God," Mattsun comments, and you laugh tiredly as you smile, your eyes starting to close.
You're about to drift off when you hear the door slam. "What the fuck?!" You and Mattsun both freeze, your gaze slowly drifting to the door to see a very confused and pissed Makki standing at the door. Mattsun quickly grabs the blanket draped over the back of the couch, putting it over the two of you.
"It's, uh, it's not what it looks like," you try, and Makki just blinks at you.
"Man, I wish I could say I'm sorry, but I'm really, really not," Mattsun speaks up, and you cover your smile with your hand as you hold back your laugh.
"Love you, too--" Your words are cut off by Makki leaving and slamming the door behind him. You and Mattsun both laugh for a bit before you finally quiet down. "He's so going to kick me out," you say, and you hear Mattsun chuckle against your neck.
"Well, if he does, there's always my place."
BONUS:
Mattsun rubs your shoulders as you lean back against him, the warm water soothing the ache in your muscles, mostly your legs and backside. He had brought you water and a tray of fruit before getting in the tub behind you, fatigue catching up to you as you relax against him. "I was serious about the chance of Hiro kicking me out," you joke quietly as you cuddle further into his wide frame.
He laughs softly as he runs a finger up and down your arm. "And I was serious about you staying at my place. You're not getting away that easily." He looks down at you, and you smile widely as you lean up to kiss him, him meeting you halfway. "Makki might not talk to me for a while though," he speaks up after he separates his lips from you, and you snort as you snuggle back into his chest.
"Ah, he'll be fine."
A/N: Bro the whole numbers thing was so hard for me to come up with lmao, but I think y’all can see how much I love this man, and how much I want him TO ROCK MY SHIT, but that’ll never happen sadly, but like I feel like he would be the best at aftercare in my opinion
#matsukawa x reader#issei matsukawa x reader#matsukawa x black!reader#matsukawa x fem!reader#issei matsukawa#matsukawa issei#matsukawa smut#mattsun smut#aoba johsai#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#hq!!#hq#haikyuu!! smut#haikyuu smut#hq!! smut#hq smut
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The Recruit (6/?)
Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)
Warnings for Chapter: Some swearing.
Notes: Wow, last chapter blew the fuck up. I’m excited that y’all seemed to hate that cliffhanger, but I hope this chapter makes up for it! Enjoy! x
Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Captain Rogers looks awkward in your living space - broad, large, and imposing where he sits on the couch. He sits stiffly, feeling out of place in your personal space, your private space, observing the tiny glimpses of who you are. He doesn’t feel he deserves it, doesn’t deserve the chance you’ve, to his own shock, given him.
Your rigid posture, hands behind your back, imply you’re expecting orders. And despite his attitudes toward you, you’d obey without question.
It makes his mouth twitch sadly, and he shakes his head. The gesture draws your eyebrows downward. Confusion, perplexion - he can’t blame you. He’d stood outside your door for thirty minutes and he’s still unsure of what he’s actually going to say.
How about, I’m sorry?
He knows you’re losing your already waning patience with him the longer he remains silent. Swallowing heavily, he forces himself to meet your eyes.
“I… I owe you some apologies.”
You almost succeed in masking the sheer shock your expression morphs into, but you aren’t quick enough. He huffs through his nose, a bit amused by you.
“I know it isn’t what you were expecting to hear but… I’d been doing some thinking - a lot of thinking, actually - and the way I’ve been treating you is far from fair. Or right. I haven’t been very accommodating to you since you first interviewed here, and for that, I’m sorry.”
It’s deathly silent between the two of you, and you’ve managed to school your features back into that quiet stoicism that kind of unnerves him. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and each second you don’t speak drags by like a lifetime.
“What game are you playing, Captain?” you finally retort, terse and clipped. Even from across the room he can see the suspicion in your eyes, the mistrust. He hates that he’d been the one to put it there.
He spreads his hands, a gesture of innocence. “No games, I promise. I know I haven’t given you any reasons to trust me but, I sincerely hope you believe my sincerest apology. My treatment of you...it wasn’t intended to be personal…”
“It sure as hell felt personal,” you snap, and Captain Rogers winces, nodding in understanding. “I mean, what’s your angle here, Captain?”
The title is said scathingly, mockingly, a sneer curling your features. A look that’s so familiar when it’s directed at him it makes his stomach sink, makes it feel like it’s full of rocks. The guilt and disgust with himself puts a wrinkle between his eyebrows.
“What are you getting out of this? There’s no way you’ve just happened to have a change of heart.”
“And if I have?” he questions sincerely.
“Then I don’t believe you,” is your immediate reply. Muscles in your jaw jumping, you continue, “From the get-go you have been nothing but a self-righteous asshole to me, ridiculing me in front of the other agents, second-guessing me, making me feel like I’d chosen the wrong career. You make me feel small, Captain Rogers, and like I don’t belong here. That being said, if your opinion of me actually mattered as much as you think it does, I would have put my notice in months ago.”
He knows the feeling of not being taken seriously, knows the pressure of being underestimated, ridiculed, taunted, pushed until he thinks he’s going to break. The fact he’s pushed you to this point puts nausea in his stomach.
You, meanwhile, can see every emotion as it plays out across his face. The furrow in his brow has grown more prominent, his frown deeper, fingers tightening into fists where they rest on his thighs. He squeezes his eyes shut and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to be sick. A small part of you realizes he’s actually disgusted in learning how he’s made you feel, but the angrier, less rational side of you is quickly stomping it back down.
He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness - not yet. Too many months had been spent questioning yourself, your training, your confidence. Your resentment of him for making you feel such a way is nearly palpable.
“You’ll understand why I’m having trouble believing a single word you’ve said to me.” Not a question, but a confident statement, and he can only nod. He’s done a lot of that in the time he’s been here, but he deserves every biting remark and question of motive you throw at him.
“So...where do we go from here?”
A valid question, but you aren’t sure of the answer, not right away. A few more moments’ pause and then:
“Give me time. Treat me like a human being, like an agent. Like I belong here because you and I know both know that I do. Start with that, and we’ll see. I can promise to remain professional - but only that.”
“I understand,” he says, and he stands because he’s getting the feeling he’s beginning to overstay his very reluctant welcome. “I know you don’t trust me, but I hope I can earn it back. You are a good agent, Y/N, truly. One of the best I’ve seen.”
He departs after your sharp inhale, a compliment that staggers you, honest-to-god nearly brings you to tears. Because even though he’s been a royal pain in your ass, it’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear him say.
You’re sure that makes you some kind of mental case, but you can’t find it in you to care. Once the door closes, your knees buckle, dropping you into the armchair. A few tears escape your eyes, emotions in overdrive - first the incident with Bucky, and now this? Your head is spinning, a pulse behind your eyes that warns of an oncoming migraine.
You groan, dig your fingers into your eyes because while dealing with the typhoon that is Captain Rogers, you’d forgotten about Bucky. You’d kissed him, or he’d kissed you - you aren’t really sure how it happened, only that it did.
And it shouldn’t have.
As comfortable as you feel around Bucky, as addictive as his presence is, this can only spell trouble - for you and for him. For one, he’s a higher rank, a commanding officer right underneath Captain Rogers. If anything were to happen between you, it’d be so deeply frowned upon you’d probably have to find another job.
Slamming your fist into the couch feels counterproductive and not nearly as satisfying as punching a wall, but you doubt Director Hill would appreciate having to repair it. So you settle for a hot shower and some Bailey’s in a cup of coffee, a book in bed once you’ve rubbed your skin raw. You have a mission debrief later this afternoon, your second mission, and you can’t help the swell of insecurity - will you fuck this one up like you almost did the last one?
Cursing under your breath at the endless bout of tug-of-war in your head, you abandon the book and rifle through your files for the mission summary. You’re determined to do this next one right.
A part of you, a tiny, miniscule part that speaks up against the crowd, wants to do this to prove Captain Rogers right - that you are a good agent, and that hiring you had been a benefit to SHIELD. You’re determined not to let your blunder on your first mission become your legacy. It bothers you that you feel this way - after all, you’d asserted to the Captain himself that you didn’t give a shit what he thought of you.
It clouds your concentration - your insistence that the Captain’s opinion doesn’t matter, yet your determination to earn your place amongst the ranks. Growling under your breath, you force yourself to memorize the mission notes front and backwards, shove the Captain and his opinions to the back of your head.
You take the stairs down to the conference room, give yourself a little more time to pour over the debrief. When you get there, you’re surprised to see Sam Wilson amongst the six other agents chosen for this mission.
“Agent L/N,” Hill greets, standing at the forefront of the room in front of a projector screen. She waits for you to take your seat before launching into the mission.
A drug kingpin who grew a little too curious about sense-enhancing substances. A bit too close to HYDRA territory, and it’s a simple extraction job. In and out, cease and desist.
Sam’s sent for supervision, to act as the senior agent in case things go awry. To your delight, they don’t. In fact, things go very, very well. Instead of being ordered to stay behind, Sam assigns you the lead position, lets you map out the plan to the other agents. A few heated glares, others envious of the responsibility you’re given, but overall, your plan comes to fruition neatly and quietly. Minimal hand-to-hand, zero injuries or deaths on either side, and you’ve successfully pilfered the scientific documents for the new substances.
You’re congratulated by Sam back on the jet, a bright grin against his dark skin. You like Sam, respect him and appreciate that he hasn’t seemed to judge you for the last time you worked together. In fact, he seems to recognize completely your desire for redemption and he sings your praises on the ride back to the tower, to your embarrassment. Some of the other agents warm up to it and join in, while others roll their eyes and turn away.
It brings heat to your cheeks as he rests a hand on your shoulder and says, lowly so as not to be too overheard, “I can see why Barnes likes you so much.”
A cold panic washes over you, but you just manage to keep it off your face. “What are you talking about?”
A simple disbelieving glance from Sam, a nervous shuffle on your end, and it tells him everything. He smiles knowingly.
“I won’t tease you about it, but you got our resident Iceman all tied up in knots.”
He chortles heartily while your face flames, and you have to look away. Though you feel the twitch of a smile trying to get through. It shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as it does, considering just that morning you’d run away from him.
But knowing you make him feel the same way he does you puts a lightness in your chest, and you resolve to talk to him, apologize for running. The flutters in your stomach intensify as the jet nears the tower, and if Sam picks up on your sudden urgency, he doesn’t say anything.
Chapter Seven
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve x reader#steve x you#steve x you x bucky#bucky x you x steve#bucky x reader x steve#steve x reader x bucky
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Till’ The End Of Summer - Chapter 7
>> series masterlist <<
Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader
In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.
Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?
Word count: 4.2K
Genre: Angst.
Idol Cameos: Ateez Wooyoung, BTS Namjoon, MAMAMOO Hwasa (Hye-Jin)
Warnings: verbal abuse, physical abuse, confrontation, toxicity, asshole Yeonjun.
A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;)
You stiffened, not able to react to what was happening out of pure panic but the moment was soon interrupted as Wooyoung got yanked away from you aggressively.
“Since when don’t we ask for consent!?” Soobin practically yells as he holds on to Wooyoung's upper arm.
Wooyoung rolled his eyes, looking back at Soobin with an unfazed expression as his eyes land on the hold Soobin had on him. He yanked his arm out of Soobin's grasp. Fixing his clothes as he clears his throat.
“She literally just said she liked me,” Wooyoung states lightly.
“That doesn’t mean you should launch yourself at her, she’s clearly uncomfortable with it,” Soobin says through his teeth, his eyes angrily peering into Wooyoung’s playful ones.
You’re unable to tear your eyes off of them and you really didn’t want to look at Yeonjun right now, knowing his temper; he’d be fuming. But he’s helpless, because to your friends’ knowledge he had no reason to be bothered.
Wooyoung sighs “Loosen up man,” he chuckles in amusement, averting his gaze back to you.” I’m sorry sweetheart. I thought you were cool with it.”
“Eh, I-it’s okay,” you stammer not making any eye contact.
Wooyoung squeezed your shoulder as an apology and assurance that he didn’t care before walking off to the balcony to smoke. You see that one of their friends followed him to keep him company as they disappeared.
“Don’t be embarrassed y/n, it’s just a dumb kiss. No biggie,” Taehyun says giving you a weak smile.
“Jiae, could you get up.”
Your ears perk up at Yeonjun’s voice and you see the annoying blonde get up from his lap in confusion.
If looks could kill you’d be buried 6 feet under because Yeonjun was NOT happy.
All eyes were on him as he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him loudly, making everyone jolt at his aggression.
“What’s wrong with him?” Beomgyu says with wide eyes.
And suddenly all eyes were on you.
You decide to ignore them and run after Yeonjun, feeling like it’s the only right thing you could do in the situation. You didn’t care about your friends’ opinions or the fact that they would probably put two and two together by now. But you needed to know if you could salvage the damage that you had just done to your potential relationship.
You run after him, but you’re too late to catch up with him as the elevator doors close on you.
You decide to take the emergency exit and run down the flights of stairs as fast as you could in an attempt to still catch him before he was completely out of sight.
As you rush through the doors and see his figure leave the entrance of the apartment building you yell after him.
“YEONJUN, WAIT!”
You’re completely stressed and out of breath. You needed him to turn around to look you in the eyes but he ignored you completely. Fists balled, taking big strides towards his car.
“Yeonjun.” Your voice cracked, it sounded like a desperate plea. All you wanted was for him to look at you and talk to you.
The crack in your voice made him stop in his tracks and he turns around on his heels in response, seeing your saddened and distressed facial expression.
“I-I didn’t know what to do, I don’t know why I said what I said, it seemed like the best option, and I-” you stop mid-sentence as you lock eyes with him.
Yeonjun’s gaze on you went dark, he took a step closer to you, and somehow you felt really small. His eyes were scary and his height was intimidating as he looked down on you.
You wanted to take a step back but you didn’t budge. Too dazed and out of it to react logically.
“It seemed like the best option?” Yeonjun says lowly, his eyes looking for more answers in yours. “You could have just lied a different lie y/n. Aren't we supposed to be used to it by now?”
“I’m sorry,” you say in almost a whisper, looking down at your feet. “I couldn’t have anticipated that kiss.”
He scoffs, the look in his eyes shifting to one you hadn’t seen before. They almost looked venomous, scary even. Any affection for you was nowhere to be found.
“All this time you worry about me. My reputation. My past. And you’re the one literally kissing another guy in front of me. And my best friend at that.”
“Yeonjun, don’t pull that card on me. It wasn’t intentional, I would never hurt you on purpose. Ever.” You assure him, holding onto his arm. He needs to understand. You NEED him to understand that you would never initiate any of that shit with Wooyoung.
You knew he was just reflecting his insecurity on you in a form of anger. He didn’t know what to do with the jealousy in his gut because he never had to deal with this type of emotion. He cared about you. No, he loved you. And it was clear as day to any outsider looking in. But did he realize that this is what love is supposed to feel like? Passionate and painful. But also, frustrating and confusing.
“First Johnny and now Wooyoung? Who’s next. Soobin?” you’re taken aback and disgusted at his jab. Your eyes turning big and confused at the low blow, shaking as you let his words register.
He let out a deep sigh, taking your hand off of his arm. “Fuck around all you want,” he says in all seriousness.
“I mean it. Go after Wooyoung. You were so eager to jump in bed with me last night, I’m sure he’d like to finish what I started.” He was mocking you. Making sure he pressed every wrong button just like his father does to him. He made sure to push you away from him as far as possible with his words, afraid that if he forgave you, you’d only hurt him even more in the end, or the other way around.
He couldn’t take losing you, so what better way to prevent that by never having you in the first place.
His words made the deepest cut in your heart and you couldn’t fully wrap your mind around why he would say something this hurtful and childish. If this is how Yeonjun dealt with his feelings, then you didn’t want anything to do with him.
Your pupils start to tremble, your vision getting blurry as you feel the brims of your eyes fill up with water. You hate how confrontation makes you tear up. But there was nothing you could do with your anger then to let it flow in the form of pure sadness.
You had hoped he’d take it back, that his gaze would soften upon seeing your distressed state but he held his ground. All of the good times you had together in the past weeks flashed before your eyes but when you see the unchanged cold and stoic expression on Yeonjun’s face, you snap.
Before you knew it, your palm connected to his cheek with a loud smack, the air becoming thick as you see the shock in his eyes at your action.
“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE,” you yell at him at the top of your lungs, ready to give him a piece of your mind. You were never going to let him live this down.
“I KNEW I SHOULD NEVER HAVE TRUSTED YOU!” you screamed at him once again, but Yeonjun seemed unfazed by your words. If anything, he was used to verbal abuse. His mind went in protection mode, shutting off completely like it always does when his dad started yelling at him.
You wanted to launch forward but a pair of strong arms kept you from doing so. Your head snaps back bewildered and aggressively. You see Soobin with wide eyes holding on to your waist as tightly as he could. He didn’t understand one thing about what was going on, but he has never seen you this angry in his life.
“It was fun while it lasted,” Yeonjun says maintaining eye contact with you, not minding the crowd that had formed outside, nor the look of pure hatred in your eyes towards him.
He gave Soobin a last look before he turned around, making his way to his car calmly.
“Let go of me,” you hiss taking Soobin's arms and pushing them off of you. You watch Yeonjun drive off and scoff in disbelief.
You couldn't believe him. You couldn't believe any of this. Why would he react this way? Why would he say all of these poisonous things and leave you alone like that? You decided you had enough and didn’t feel like explaining any of this to your friends, because honestly; where would you even begin? And what would you even say? You huff, walking away from them with no particular destination in mind. Anger completely filling your senses.
“Do NOT come after me,” you warn before anyone could say anything to you as you disappear.
Yeonjun stood outside of the massive villa, biting his cheek nervously as he waited for the front door to open after he rang the doorbell to his uncle’s house multiple times.
He knew he was wrong for bothering him at this hour. But he didn’t know where else to go.
The door opened with a dramatic swing. Namjoon rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, shocked to see his nephew in front of him at this hour.
“Yeonjun?”
“What are you doing here. A heads up would have been nice.”
Yeonjun ignored his statement and walked inside. He didn’t even know why he was here but his mind automatically drove his car to this destination. The only family member he had a true bond with was Namjoon, his mother's younger brother. They didn’t differ that much in age, but he was almost like a father figure to him, more than his own dad at that. And well, he lived close and he didn’t know where else to go tonight. He sure as hell wasn’t going back home to the guys.
“I had nowhere to go," he says biting the inside of his cheek.
Yeonjun sat down on the large staircase, burying his face in his hands.
Namjoon frowned, closing the door while turning the hall lights on. He made his way over to Yeonjun and sat down beside him
Yeonjun couldn’t believe himself.
He couldn’t believe what he said and what just happened and he needed advice without asking for it.
Namjoon’s wife, Hye-Jin, emerged from their bedroom, and when she saw Yeonjun on the staircase with her husband; she knew enough.
“I’ll go make tea,” she said softly, tying the ties to her bathrobe around her as she makes her way down the stairs.
Namjoon gave her a sweet smile, brushing their hands against each other affectionately as she passed.
Her words completely went over Yeonjun’s head as his mind started to replay the events from earlier.
“Do I deserve to be happy with someone who is too good for me. Someone who makes life seem too good to be true? A girl who looks at me with so much adoration even though I’m not worthy of her love.”
Namjoon’s eyes widened at Yeonjun’s sudden outburst, he put his hand on Yeonjun’s back, patting him in comfort.
“Of course you do.”
“Then why can’t I let myself feel.”
“Because that’s how you were raised.” Namjoon sighs. “You were ruined by that dickhead of a father of yours.” He cleared his throat. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Yeonjun says as he sighs loudly, his shoulders falling in defeat.
“I met a girl.”
Namjoon chuckled. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.”
A small smile crept onto Yeonjun's lips.
“She’s amazing,” Yeonjun says lost it thought, thinking of your smile, and the sound of your laughter. His mind flashing back to your peacefully sleeping form on his bed last night while he adored you as he moved a piece of your hair out of your face.
“Tell me about her…” Namjoon tries carefully.
Yeonjun wasn’t one to open up, and even though this situation was completely random. He was glad his nephew wanted to confide in him. Namjoon was way too busy to his liking in his day to day life. And had to admit that the relationship with Yeonjun felt a little estranged over the years.
Especially since Yeonjun left for college, he hadn’t seen much of him at family gatherings; making it hard to stay in contact with him.
The corner of Yeonjun’s mouth curl up in a faint smile as he thinks of you again, and before he knew it, the thought of you has him rambling.
“She’s beautiful. Inside and out. She’s smart, top of her class. She’s funny, sassy. Keeps me on my toes around her. She’s caring and outgoing but then her eyes hold this innocence…” he explains lost in thought.
Namjoon sighs. “Sounds an awful lot like you’re in love Jun.”
Yeonjuns eyes widen at the 4 letter word and he looks at Namjoon in shock. “What?”
“You love her.”
“H-well. I” he stutters incoherently. Not sure what to make think about his uncle’s point of view.
“Let me ask you this, who do you think of first thing in the morning and last thing before you close your eyes at night?”
Yeonjun didn’t even have to give it a good thought. “Her.”
“That’s love, that’s Hye-Jin to me, and that’s….”
“Y/n”
“That’s y/n to you," Namjoon says smiling softly.
Mia ran up to Soobin, her eyes big and shocked. “We should go after her,” she says in a panic.
“I don’t know what that was but If it is what I think it is then we can’t let her be alone right now.”
Soobin stood frozen on his feet. His mind trying to make connections to every single event in the past couple of weeks.
Your vagueness, the lies, the mystery behind Yeonjun never being home. It all clicked.
You were with him.
And given the shit show that he had just witnessed, he realized that you two were serious about each other.
Mia tugs at Soobin's hand. “Baby, snap out of it,” she says softly.
Her voice made Soobin come back to his senses and he rubbed his forehead as all of the revelations in his mind form the perfect foundation for a pounding headache.
“Mia please tell me you didn’t know that they were sneaking around behind our backs.” He looks at her pleadingly, begging for the confirmation he needed.
“I swear to you. I didn’t know, she didn’t tell me…” she comforts him, holding his hand.
Soobin nodded in relief, knowing that Mia would be on his side no matter what was reassuring.
Taehyun walked up to Soobin with your handbag and jacket in his hands. “She forgot these…” he says carefully approaching.
Soobin didn’t know what to do but everyone was looking at him for guidance. They were expecting him to take the next step but he really didn’t know what that next step should be.
“Let’s go inside and talk about this,” he says still too dazed and confused to function.
“I’ll make sure our guests go home.” Taehyun says determined as he runs back inside.
The silence was painful. The boys sat at the dinner table with the remnants of their ruined game night still sprawled out on the table in forms of alcoholic beverages and Uno cards.
Beomgyu sighed loudly, slouching in his seat.
“Why can’t we ever have a normal night,” he breathes playing with the cords of his sweater.
Mia looked at Soobin worriedly, she saw how stressed he was, how his eyes were fixated on nothingness while his mind ran wild, trying to figure out where to pick up the pieces.
“So, let’s just…summarize this,” Taehyun says sitting up straight.
“Yeonjun hyung is mad…because y/n was kissed by Wooyoung hyung, and when we got downstairs to see what the yelling was about, y/n basically slapped him in the face with the force of god.”
“That’s about right, yeah,” Hueningkai says hugging one of his massive plushies, using it as a pillow to support his head on at the dinner table.
“She would never hit him if she didn’t have a reason to,” Mia says defending you in some way.
“Since when is violence ever justified. That is my brother, and from the looks of it SHE is the one that fucked up.” Beomgyu says defending Yeonjun this time.
“Stop,” Soobin says before an argument could erupt.
“This isn’t a blame game.”
“I think they’ve been seeing each other romantically behind our backs since the festival,” Soobin says sharing his assumption and it made the eyes of everyone widen in unison.
“What?” Taehyun says in shock.
“Why would they keep that a secret.” Hueningkai asks in bewilderment.
“Because they were probably figuring out their feelings first,” Mia retorts, trying to make sense of it all. She knew that it was basically 3 against 1 in Yeonjun’s defense, with Soobin being Switzerland and not taking sides. She’d never betray you, and she was determined to make the boys realize that it wasn’t just you at fault, even though she knew nothing of the situation in detail.
“Well I felt something between them and it wasn’t cute.” Beomgyu remarks rolling his eyes.
Mia sighed intertwining her fingers with Soobin’s as she played with his fingers absentmindedly.
She needed to talk to you asap, but she wasn’t sure if you were up for that. She needed to know if you were okay and her mind started to list the few places that you could have gone to.
“I feel bad for daring Wooyoung to kiss her.” Hueningkai mopes burying his face in his plushie, but Taehyun was quick to ease his mind. “None of this is any of our faults. If they were honest with us, we would have known not to go that far.”
“I don’t think Wooyoung knew either.” Beomgyu says leaning his elbows on the table as he intertwined his fingers as if he was in a business meeting.
“Of course not, he’d never do that to Yeonjun.” Taehyun replies, leaning back into his chair.
“I heard what Yeonjun said to her.” Soobin starts, all eyes diverting to him.
"He didn't even want to hear her side of the story. He just burned her to the ground with his words instead. He basically slut-shamed her on the spot.”
“Woahhh…” Taehyun says as his eyes dart to Soobin’s. “That’s….just wow,��� he says at a loss for words.
Mia scoffed letting go of Soobin’s hand as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We all know who the real slut is.”
“Mia,” Soobin warns her but she doesn’t care.
“No. Did you guys see the panic in y/n’s eyes when Wooyoung got close to her. She stiffened. I don’t know why she named Wooyoung but she was probably just panicked and not thinking straight. Yeonjun is an asshole with a way too big of an attitude problem who thinks the world revolves around him and him alone.”
The boys looked at Mia in shock of her outburst and Soobin did the same. He didn’t like what she said, especially since he told her about the talk he and Yeonjun had the other night.
“Mia..” Soobin starts, his tone was soft but also laced with disappointment and Mia knew that she needed to escape before she’d start a fight with him.
“I’m going to go after my best friend, and figure out what happened. Because we can all sit here and talk shit or assume shit. But it won’t get us the answers we need to help bring our group back together.”
Mia got up, grabbing your and her own things before leaving the guys at the dinner table. She didn’t give Soobin her usual kiss goodbye and walked out of the apartment, hoping she could find you as soon as possible.
“Thanks for the tea, it was really nice” Yeonjun says relaxing in his seat.
Hye-Jin smiled at him sweetly, retrieving the empty cup from him. “You seemed very upset,” she said. “So, I figured you needed some chamomile.”
Yeonjun chuckled indifferently biting his lip.
“Since you’re…well, a woman. Can I ask you something?”
Hye-Jin grinned at Yeonjun, finding his choice of words questionable yet adorable.
“Sure.”
“When did you know you were in love with my uncle?”
Hye-Jin was amused by the question. She bit her lip giving it a good thought and when she laid her eyes on her husband, she sighed. “When his pain became my pain.”
Yeonjun cocked his eyebrow at her answer, not expecting that at all. Suddenly his mind flashed back to your tearful face when he told you about his parents, and your fallen face from before when he basically ripped your heart out of your chest.
Guilt filled his senses. He wanted to make things right but he also knew that you would never talk to him again, or at least not anytime soon.
Maybe it was for the best. Again, you deserved someone better than him. Someone who could love you without the extra baggage. Yes, he was pissed. Jealousy consumed him almost entirely with the whole Wooyoung ordeal. He turned into his dad and that’s what disgusted Yeonjun the most.
He treated you like his dad treated him and at the moment, he swore to himself that that would never happen again. Ever.
Pushing people away was what Yeonjun was good at, but what he didn’t realize is that you could be the medicine to his broken soul. He failed to realize that this love thing was a two-way street. He felt best when he was with you, but he didn’t stop to consider that he was a source for your happiness as well.
Namjoon noticed Yeonjun’s fallen facial expression as Yeonjun sank deep in thought and he frowned, clearing his throat.
“How about you stay here for the night.”
Yeonjun’s eyes find Namjoon’s and all he could do was nod at the offer. "Thank you..."
Hye-Jin got up from the dining table with a loud sigh. “I’ll go prepare the guest room.”
You were seated at a picnic table at the park near your school, looking out over the lake as you try to organize your thoughts.
Yeonjun’s hurtful words kept ringing in your mind like a mantra and you almost believed that he meant every word he said.
It wasn’t even what he said to you, it was why he said it. He said it to push your buttons. To make you angry at him so he could run from you.
Yeonjun was dead wrong for the things he said to you.
And you were dead wrong for putting your hands on him like that.
The moment keeps replaying in your mind a thousand times over and you wince at the vivid memory.
You sit there lost in your thoughts for what seems like forever. Since you didn’t have your phone with you, you weren’t able to keep track of time.
You wanted to hate Yeonjun, you really did. But you didn’t.
The way he snapped at you was scary, toxic and unjustifiable, but you couldn’t help but think that he pushed you away on purpose.
After all, you were oblivious to the true trauma of his childhood. The childhood filled with abandonment, mental and physical abuse was still a mystery to you.
For all you know, all he had to endure was a lack of love with occasional arguments but it was so much more than that. He was extremely damaged, but the way he kept himself together in his day to day life would never give that away.
“Y/n?”
Your head snaps into the direction of the voice and you relax in an instance when you see her.
“Mia? How did you know where I was?” You were shocked but relieved at the same time. If anyone came after you, you were glad it was her.
She sat down next to you and enveloped you in a hug. You close your eyes, squeezing her tightly and she let you.
She sighs, untangling herself while grabbing your shoulders to make you look at her.
“Tell me everything,” she says. “From the start.”
Yeonjun barely slept that night. He kept staring at the ceiling, twisting and turning under the sheets. His mind was consumed with you. He wanted to know if you were okay. If you got home safe.
He wanted you to be okay but he also knew that the reality was most likely far from it.
You didn’t deserve the heartbreak, but you’d get over him soon enough; he thought to himself.
Especially with all these men on campus doting after you, you’d soon forget all about Yeonjun and move on with your life.
It’s not like he hoped you would. But he figured it’d be for the better and suddenly he was glad you weren’t too deep in to your relationship.
He was glad you didn’t have sex, because he could never forgive himself if it seemed like he just used you for your body.
“Sounds an awful lot like you’re in love Jun.”
Namjoon’s voice rings in his head loudly. Over and over again.
Does he love you?
Is that why this hurts so much?
The movies he watched oh so religiously always made love seem to be nothing less than sunshine and rainbows. It was never about letting the person you love the most go for their own good because that’s just how much they mean to you.
Letting you go was the most selfless thing he had done, but he wished it happened in a less messy way. if he was completely honest with himself, he knew that he was going to let you go sooner or later for your own good, and the whole situation last night was the perfect excuse for him to snap at you. He wanted to live the fairy tale with you. To sneak around with you a little longer and have you moaning his name under him as he pleasured you again and again. He wanted to have you, love you, kiss you and hold you. But it wasn't about what he wanted, it was about what you deserved and needed.
You were strong, you had clear goals and a true purpose in life and he was sure you wouldn’t let this short-lived romance come between that.
He had to believe it himself to accept the reality of things.
He lost you, and it was for the best.
Yeonjun rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He got up and dressed himself, ready to leave his uncle’s house after thanking them for their hospitality.
He knew he had to face the music with Soobin and the other guys sooner or later, and he’d rather just have it over and dealt with.
As he made his way down the staircase, he quickly retrieved his keys from the side table in the hallway, and made his way to the voices that came from the kitchen at this early hour.
While he got closer to the voices his ears perked up at one voice in particular.
He froze as they made eye contact; not knowing why or what she was doing here.
Her eyes widened at the sight of him. He changed a lot in the year she hadn’t seen him.
He was broader, manlier. The baby fat in his cheeks was completely gone by now. He looked strong and handsome, she expected nothing less from him though; given his genetics.
“Mom?” Yeonjun says in disbelief, looking at her picture-perfect attire.
She always looked put together. No matter the circumstance.
“Hello, Yeonjun.” she says giving him a half-hearted smile.
“How have you been, son?”
Chapter 8
#yeonjun scenarios#yeonjun imagines#choi yeonjun scenarios#choi yeonjun imagines#yeonjun fluff#yeonjun angst#yeonjun imagine#txt imagines#txt imagine#txt scenarios#txt angst#bts scenarios#namjoon scenarios#namjoon fluff#kpop angst#kpop scenarios#kpop fluff#kpop imagines#soobin scenarios#soobin imagines#choi soobin imagines#choi soobin scenarios#choi soobin angst#ateez scenarios#wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung fluff#beomgyu scenarios#taehyun scenarios#hueningkai scenarios#wooyoung angst
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Self Indulgent Shigaraki Nonsense Part 2!
Tomura Shigaraki x pregnant!reader headcannons
Lmao I'm obsessed with this idea, I'm having so much fun with it. I love it, and I hope you guys like it too!
Warnings: Pregnancy and pregnancy related issues.
(I couldn't find the original artist for this, but just know that someone out there is a very talented artist lol)
After the initial reaction,
Shigaraki doesn't want to take you back home to the others. He doesn't want anyone to know.
He still wants you to get an abortion. It makes you feel, unwanted. The more he mentions it, the more it hurts you.
You knew he wouldn't be happy or excited about this, but neither were you. This just, hurt.
He stayed with you a few more nights in the hotel. He didn't want to leave your side, apart of him was afraid you'd still run. That you'd choose the baby over him. The other part, wanted desperately to protect you. To keep you safe and to him, an abortion would.
It would leave you free and untethered to him. He knew, objectivley, you shouldn't be with him. And he knew that if you ever needed to, in order to keep yourself safe, he would understand. But the idea of losing you made him unreasonably upset. What felt like sadness would soon turn to rage. He just, didn't want to lose you. He thought it was selfish of him to think that way, but he couldn't help it. It tore him apart from the inside out.
The years of having you around made him emotionally dependent. You cared for him in ways no one else had. He stayed up at night wondering where you had been his entire life. You felt like a missing piece of a puzzle.
He layed with you in bed one night, unable to sleep. He watched your sleeping form, the way your chest heaved up and down with every breath. His eyes ran over your body as a few fingers pulled away the covers. He eyed your belly. He felt his stomach turn as he thought about it all.
There was already so much he didn't know. He didn't really even understand how you knew you were pregnant or what stage you were at. What would a baby like his look like? Visions of a horrible monster came to mind. No matter what, it was no good. He had to convince you to get rid of it before it was too late. Before it tore you apart.
The basis for his fears were unknown, even to him. He knew thats not how things really worked, he knew his fears seemed ridiculous to you, but still. He felt guilty. He felt a sense of dread as he thought about it. It took two after all. He felt like he had condemned you. He like he had wronged or hurt you.
"This love, loves the trouble." He remembered you saying. He thought you were being foolish, blinded by your feelings to see realisticly. How could you not see? You were doomed. If the monster inside you wouldn't kill you, then it would tie you to him for forever. It'd be born into a world he hadn't solved yet, even if it could help him, it wasn't a tool. If you ever needed to leave, go off and be safe somewhere else, you couldn't. It would always tie you to him. It made him feel sick. You would never have the freedom he wanted for you.
You stirred in your sleep, your eyes slowly coming open before you turned to look up at him. He looked down at you, warm tears falling down an emotionless face. He was so lost in thought, he didn't realize he was crying.
"Uh, Tomura? Whats wrong? You're crying." You sat up and started to wipe the tears away from his cheeks before he wrenched himself from your grasp. He sat on the side of the bed, hunched over, before he got up to use the bathroom.
You sat there in wonder as you laid back down. He was no doubt thinking about the baby again. Baby. The word seemed foreign to even think about. A baby. Lost in thought, Shigaraki came back into the room. The light from the bathroom masking his silhouette in the door frame.
"You have to get rid of it." He mumbled.
"We've been over this before, I'm fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. Women have babies all the time, I promise-"
"No...you don't understand. You can't do this to yourself." He shuffled forward to the bed.
"What?"
"Think about it this way, you'll be rendered useless to the league. You and I were dangerous enough, but now,"
"Well damn, I didn't realize I'm such a fucking burden."
"THAT'S NOT-" He bit his tongue. Yelling at you or showing his anger never solved anything, it only made things worse. "You're not a burden. You're in danger. As a villian you run so many risks but the moment you got busy with me, you made yourself vulnerable. You made me, vulnerable. Adding a third into this, makes not only us more vulnerable but them as well. If the heroes knew we were involved with one another the way we are, they'd take advantage. They'd threaten you, they'd kill you if they got the chance."
"Then we won't give them that chance." You uttered. He balled his fists and turned away, holding his head down.
"It's not that simple. You don't understand."
"I understand just fine, Tomura. You don't think I haven't thought about all the ways this could go wrong? Tomura, you're all I have. You are my family regardless of a third party, you're my best friend and I love you with everything I am."
"This isn't about me. I can't promise you anything, I can barley keep you safe now. If you choose this, I can't do anything for you. I can't promise your safety or comfort. And especially not happiness." You crawled along the bed in a hurry before reaching out to grab ahold of his wrists. He froze.
"You make me happy." You told him. When he didn't move you spoke again. "You make me happy. All I want is you, all I want is to love you and be loved by you. I'm not asking for safety or comfort, I lost those a long time ago. I'm just asking for you." He stayed silent for a while, not moving or saying a word. The only sound in the room being his heavy breathing. "Tomura?"
"I feel torn." He rasped.
"Torn between what? Your war and me? You don't have to choose."
"No. Not that." He pulled his hand away from your grasp. "You would still choose me, choose me to be a father. Knowing what you know." You pasued and thought for a moment. He watched you.
"I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't mean to put you in such a difficult position. But I know you. I know how kind you can be. I know you're whole goal is to create a better world for people, to free humanity. I know the pain you struggle with and the issues you face. But there is no other soul I'd choose over you."
"You're so foolish." He sighed, crumbling as he sat down on the bed. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and rested your forehead against the side of his. "How could a woman so smart, be so ridiculous?" He rested a palm on your knee.
"Love does that sometimes, doesn't it?" You spoke softly.
"It does. It makes me a fool." He turned his head to press his forehead against yours in a sweet gesture.
"For the record, I think you'd make a fine parent." He scoffed at you.
"I doubt I will." Will. Will? The word echoed in your mind.
"I guess you'll just have to wait and see." You said with a smile. Tomura leaned in and gave you a soft kiss. You leaned into it and took deep breaths as you ran your hands over his chest. He rested his palm over your hand placed on his knee.
"This isn't a game yknow. We don't get second chances here." He warned, squeezes your hand.
"I know."
"Its still early isn't it? You still have time to rethink." He told you, slowly turning and pulling you in to hold you tightly.
"I guess..." you trailed off.
"Just...if anything goes wrong...if anything happens to you..."
"I'll be fine." You reassured.
"You can't know that. How am I going to keep you safe?" He muttered to himself, tucking his face into your shoulder.
"I'll be more careful, I promise. And I'll stay away from dangerous missions, and I'll stay away from heroes from now on, alright?" You told him, rubbing your hands up and down his back.
"Just....think it over...please..." He begged.
"Alright...I'll think it over..." You made no promises. With that, Shigaraki agreed to bring you home. Not saying a word to anyone about your whereabouts. Toga asked you privately about your absence, mostly to confirm that you were alright. You brushed it off, saying it was a private mission or something like that.
Toga knew more than the rest. She asked more questions, knew more details. She knew the true extent of your relationship. Being a close friend of yours, she was trusted with more information than most. Others were lucky if Shigaraki even answered questions about your relationship, declaring it was none of their buisness and to leave him alone.
You didn't tell Toga, you couldn't. It wouldn't matter if she knew or not and getting someone else mixed up in your buisness was a bad idea. Life went back to normal, you went about your buisness as usual, but soon symptoms started to become more of a hazard as the weeks passed. Certain smells like cigarette smoke and eggs would make you violently ill. Nausea and fatigue haunting you throughout the day. You'd wake up feeling sore and groggy, unable to shake the feeling. It bothered Tomura.
He'd watch you raise from the bed and shuffle off to the bathroom with a deep stare. Observing you with a dark gaze. For the most part, he kept his opinions to himself. He knew there was little he could do. His only hope was that you would see "reason". If this is how you felt now, imagine your suffering later. The more pain and frustration you experienced, the more Tomura's heart ached. He felt responsible for your pain. Unable to shake the idea that he did this to you.
"Have you given it anymore thought?" He asked you. Entirely out of the blew, and while you were trying to relax no less. You laid on the floor, pillows piled underneath your head as you browsed your phone. Your feet propped up in his lap as he played a game on the Tv. You peered out from behind your phone screen.
"I have."
"And?" He didn't change his position or attitude.
"And what?" You looked back to your screen.
"Isn't the cut off date coming up soon?"
"Sure is."
"You have to make up your mind soon." You paused and thought for a moment. You watched him play.
"I have."
"Well?"
"I still want this." You told him. He paused his game and froze.
"I don't understand..."
"Pardon?"
"I dont understand!" He shouted. His anger directed out to the Tv instead of you. He dropped the controller and let his hands hang limp as he propped his elbows on your shins. "I don't understand... Taking so many risks... because of me."
"Well, we're villians. Isn't taking risks what lifes all about?"
"I...I'm sorry..." his shoulder began to bounce. His head hanging low while he balled his fists. You sat up, realizing he had started to cry. You placed firm hands on his back to rub and comfort him. He cried, his hands coming up to cover his face and wipe away his tears. "This is all my fault..." He squeaked.
"Tomura, sweety, it's okay." You held continued to rub slow soothing circles over his back. The other on his knee in an attempt to ground him.
"I don't understand...why...why you want this...I don't get it...it makes no sense!" He sobbed. "Why, WHY!?" He clung to you, reaching out to dig his gloved fingers into your sweater in an attempt to keep you close. You held him tight, running gentle fingers through his hair. You let him cry a little longer before answering.
"You know how they say 'love makes you do crazy things?'" You started.
"That's not a reason!" He argued.
"Well, sure, but...it's true isn't it. I mean, our relationship is evidence enough, right? But besides that, when I found out, I was scared too. I'm still scared. But the more I think about it, the more I want it. It makes me smile to think about. I get butterflies and its all I can think of. It's like, I'm falling in love with you all over again." He looked up from his place tucked away in your chest. His eyes red and tired from his crying.
"But why me?" He groaned, "you could have this with anyone you wanted. Why me?"
"Because I don't want anyone else," you squeezed him tight with a smile, "I want you." You planted gentle kisses on his tear riddled cheeks. He let out a soft sigh before pulling you in to give you a proper embrace. He tucked his face in your neck and took deep breaths, as if to savor the feeling of you so close.
"I'm still sorry," he grumbled, "I got you into this mess."
"Hey, it took two, right? Besides, I don't know about you, but I had fun." You squeezed his thigh, trying to lighten the mood. He squirmed in response.
"Not funny."
"What? For sex that good, I'd let you get me pregnant all over again." You chuckled in his ear. He squirmed again, his grip on you tightening.
"Don't say things like that." He scolded half-heartedly. His voice soft, he was embarrassed. You always knew how to get under his skin. Somehow, the way you did it, Tomura found it endearing. It felt fun and lightheaded the way you teased him. When you first did it, he tried to ignore it, he found you annoying and rude. But as time past, and he found your pestering of your fellow teammates pretty funny, he grew to enjoy your witty banter.
He slowly started to run kisses along your neck. He never really understood what you saw in him. Initially, he thought you wanting to be so close with him was an attempt to gain more power. But there was no evidence to support that, you just genuinely enjoyed his company. He found that bizarre. Tomura was well aware he had a bad attitude and was generally a pain in the ass to deal with.
But you got to him. When you were gone, he missed you. When you made a joke or teased, he laughed. When you were close, he felt warm and comfortable. More comfortable with you than without you. He grew way too attached for his liking. Especially now, he cursed himself for loving you. He called himself selfish and reckless and stupid. He beat himself up for it.
Regardless, if this is what you wanted, he would make this happen for you. But as the deadline came and went, he grew more and more paranoid. If the Heroes got ahold of you, it was game over.
#shigaraki#tomura shigaraki#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigarak x reader#tomura shigaraki x pregnant reader#shigaraki x pregnant reader#dad!shigaraki#shigaraki as a dad#shigaraki with a pregnant partner
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To Begin Again
Idol!Yoongi x Makeup Artist!Reader
Request: Hey. Can I please request a story where the reader is their new makeup artist and she falls in love with Yoongi after he rescues her from her boyfriend one night. And Jin is her best friend. Thank you so much!
WordCount: 6.6k
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Idol!AU,
Warnings: Reader Experiences Both Domestic and Physical Abuse, Excessive Cursing,
A/N: Please don’t read if you feel uncomfortable with domestic abuse
The prettiest thing about makeup, in your opinion, is how it can give someone confidence. Although, with your new job you didn't need to give your clients confidence. They had that and some.
"I got you a green tea!" Your best friend announces as he steps into the green room. You turn to him, eyes alight with happiness as he hands you the warm cup.
"Thank you!" Your hands cupping the warm drink as his younger brothers file into the room.
"Thank you, the most handsome man in the entire world." Jin looks at you as he sits down on the leather couch. His eyes staring expectantly as you sip your green tea.
"Uh huh." You say making Namjoon snort as he sits down next to Seokjin.
"Wah. Such a brat, like I didn't help raise you." Jin mumbles as Jeongguk sits in the chair. It was pretty much true, Seokjin didn't help raise you but he's been your best friend for most of his life. He was your next door neighbor for the longest time, until you moved to America. You had gotten back in touch a few years ago when you reinstalled Kakaotalk upon your arrival to Korea. You had told him about your interests in the beauty world and Jin being the best friend he is, got you into his company. At first you were an assistant but after their makeup artist left to go work for Dior, you snagged up the spot due to Seokjin's incessant nagging.
"Good morning, noona!" Jeongguk chirps taking out his Airpods.
"Morning, doll." You mumble grabbing his kit. Your eyes are looking in the mirror, looking over each handsome face before finding the one that makes you feel at peace. His aura was so calming. Something about him just radiating this 'I don't give a fuck' energy that makes you interested. Yoongi's eyes meet yours in the mirror before smirking and closing his eyes. You grab Jeongguk's foundation before stepping in front of him.
"You didn't shave." You chide him before caressing your finger over his stubbled chin. Taehyung pats at his chin out of the corner of your eye before frowning and kicking his legs.
"Sorry, noona. I was really tired." Guk whispers before opening his eyes and looking up at you. Your eyes meet his brown orbs before smiling as you collect foundation on to the disposable makeup sponge.
"What game were you playing?" You inquire, making him smile. Jin knew you would be good with everyone, you had a comfortable aura around you. You could get along with a feral tiger if you needed to. You lift Jeongguk's chin with your finger as he giggles.
"Battlegrounds." He whispers before closing his eyes again. You take the sponge delicately to his skin.
"And did you win?" He nods happily as you cover up the birthmark on his nose.
"Make sure you shave tomorrow." He chuckles before giving you a thumbs up. "I promise."
"Ten minutes to set!" Yoongi hops in the chair. His small eyes flickering over to you before clearing his throat and folding his arms. You never said anything to one another. It was always just silence, whether it was comfortable or uncomfortable was the question for everyone. Your fingers diligently rub primer on his oily skin before grabbing his foundation. His eyes darting to your backside before licking his lips and closing his eyes as he straightens up in the seat. There's a mirror, Yoongi. You can see him. You used to talk, admittedly not so much but you used to. When you first started working for Big Hit he would make small conversation. Jin thinks he saw you with your boyfriend one day and that's why he stopped. You don't have an opinion on the matter, or rather you couldn't. His eyebrows furrow as you begin to put on his foundation. He was, to you, the epitome of everything beautiful and it's a shame he doesn't talk to you.
Your phone rings once more as Yoongi steps into the green room. His eyes on the white table as your phone vibrates. He looks around the empty room before waltzing over pretending to be grabbing a tissue as he peers down at your phone. The incoming call screen stops before noticing the 64 missed calls from Jungkwon. 32 new texts and Yoongi takes a sharp breath between his teeth. His thumb pulls at the touch screen. Sliding down the text notification as he looks back at the door.
'You better fucking answer your phone, you little slut.' He furrows his eyebrows before pulling down the notification bar.
'How dare you fucking ignore me.'
'I brought you into this country I'll fucking ship you back to your miserable little America.' Yoongi's hand bawls into a fist before clearing his throat and stepping back.
"Hyung. We're late!" Namjoon yells as he rushes past the doorway. Yoongi hums before tilting his head. Who might this fucker think he is?! He scoffs before grabbing his iced Americano and leaving the green room.
It was cold today, your big black cable knit sweater clinging to your body as the boys enter the set. Run BTS was known for little to no makeup so it's the easiest day out of the whole week. Yoongi eyes you delicately as he enters the room behind Jin. Jin's arms hugging you tightly and Yoongi watches as you flinch away from him before smiling. He sits down on the couch, jaw taught as he rubs his hands together as you giggle at something Seokjin says. Yoongi's eyes were small but they weren't blind. A streak of makeup on your neck alerts him, what have you tried to cover up? He clears his throat before tilting his head as your phone goes off. Your body stiffening before grabbing the device and shutting it off.
"How's Jungkwon?" Seokjin asks as he sits down in the chair. You give a big smile, the apples of your cheeks tinting pink.
"He's great!" You're lying. Yoongi can tell, your body is twisted strangely and he scoffs gently before grabbing his phone and trying to distract himself. Something is wrong and he hates it.
Yoongi plops down in the chair as you give him a small smile. His eyes falling to your neck as you grab his primer.
"Noona. You dropped something." Jeongguk tells you, your sweater lifting up as you bend over to grab a makeup sponge. Yoongi takes a deep inhale as your back is revealed. Deep red and purple patches litter your lower back. He grabs at the bottom of your sweater before pulling it down, his eyes on the mirror making sure no one saw. Everyone was invested in their own world and you gasp as you pull away from him.
"Thanks." You whisper before clearing your throat awkwardly. His wrist grabs yours before looking into your eyes. His eyes look pained, simply searching your eyes for you to express that you need help. You pull your wrist away before putting the primer on a sponge and continuing on with your job. He says nothing, his eyes staring at you in the mirror before fixing his beanie. You would never ask for help. You got yourself into this and maybe, just maybe you deserve it.
You turn your phone back on as the boys leave the green room. You were alone finally, your fingers shook as you set down the phone. Hands forming into a prayer as you press then to your lips. You were nervous, Jungkwon had probably called you a bunch of times. Probably texted you a bunch, too. You would be punished when you got home. It wasn't always like this, you met Jungkwon in America. He was on vacation with his friends. He was really handsome, and super sweet. He said all the right things, flattering you and buying you small presents to tell you how much he liked you. You surprised him with your high level of Korean and your charming aura. He stayed with you even after his friends left the vacation. He seemed to adore you and you fell in love with him.
Then, he asked you to come back to Korea to live with him because he couldn't stand to be away from you. You loved him and agreed to come back. You got back in touch with Jin and everything went pretty smoothly. That was until Jungkwon started drinking heavily and you got your job at Big Hit. He wanted you to be home before him, to cook for him. Lay in bed and wait to be fucked. He wanted your subservience and you couldn't give that to him. So, sooner or later you had become a punching doll. A creature for Jungkwon to take his anger out on. You had grown scared, as anyone would but you couldn't leave him. He had threatened you several times and you couldn't tell Jin or anyone for that matter because Jungkwon had warped your mind to making you think it was all your fault. There's something incredibly powerful about the human brain isn't there? The way it reacts and changes to fear. When you weren't home, it was as if you were free and your mind wouldn't dare dwell on what would happen when you stepped foot into your cheap apartment. Your phone goes off, vibrating on the table loudly as he calls you. Your throat chokes up, nails digging into the palms of your hands before clearing your throat and answering.
"Hello?"
"Where the fuck are you? You little slut!" You close your eyes, your body beginning to shake from your nerves.
"I'm at work, I'm sorry." You whisper, rubbing the hem of your sweater between your fingertips as you look down at your lap. Hot tears prick at your eyes as you squeeze them shut.
"You better beg for my kindness when you get home. Fucking little cunt. I want you on your knees as soon as you step through that door. Do you understand me? Or I'll beat you blue. Do you fucking hear me?!" You whimper before tilting your head and exhaling gently.
"Yes. I hear you."
"What'd I say then?" You suppress a whimper as you put your hand to your forehead.
"Be on my knees when I come home or I'll be beaten blue."
"Fucking cunt." The phone call is over and you put your hands over your face as your phone falls into your lap. You look through your fingers into the mirror. Yoongi stands in the doorway, his hands in fists as he stares at you through the mirror. He cracks his neck before shoving off of the door post and leaving.
"Y/N. It's 70 degrees out, why're you wearing a sweater?" Jimin teases you as he jumps into the chair. You give him a small smile as you grab his eyeliner.
"For real, you're going to get heat stroke." Hoseok says looking up from his phone.
"I'll be okay." You say to him before smiling.
"I can give you my t-shirt if you want, noona!" Jeongguk suggest standing up. You shake your head kindly before putting your finger under Jimin's chin.
"You shouldn't wear such heavy stuff in the summer-"
"Leave her alone." Yoongi says sitting up and taking off his bucket hat. His head turning to his younger members making Jin tilt his head awkwardly.
"Who are you to be concerned with Y/N? You don't even talk to her." You tap your foot nervously on the ground as you swipe the soft charcoal liner against Jimin's water line.
"Just...leave her alone." Yoongi mumbles before folding his arms and closing his eyes. He knows your biggest secret and even though you both don't talk, you trust him.
You flinch as you sit down before lifting up your shirt and giving a shaky exhale. Your ribs were screaming with pain today. Yoongi enters the green room with water and a few pills in hand and you raise an eyebrow. He sets down the water in front of you and the pills before shutting the door and locking it.
"Show me." His voice is a mere whisper in the large room.
"No." You mumble before thanking him for the pain killers.
"Y/N. Look, I know...I haven't been the nicest guy...Just show me." He whispers before leaning against the white table.
"I can't." Your heart was beating faster, a sweat beginning to gather on your hairline as his brown eyes bore into yours.
"Tell Jin, tell me. Tell someone. Please." He whispers before putting his hand on your shoulder. You groan backing away from him as you stand up. Yoongi's expression softens before running his fingers through his silver hair.
"I can't tell anyone. I'll get in trouble." You whisper before looking at the ground. The fury that ignites in Yoongi's belly could rival Hades.
"I can help you. Please, show me." You open your mouth before whimpering. Your bottom lip tucking into your teeth as you sway with uncertainty.
"I don't need your help." You mumble to him making his eyes squeeze shut. He sighs gently before stepping back and taking a deep breath.
"Okay. But, I'm here. Okay? I'm here for you to talk to." He leaves without another word and you sob putting your face in your hands. How could you tell him when it's your fault?
Getting ready for an award show is really difficult work. There are a bunch of meetings to attend, finding the right makeup looks to go with the outfits for the boys. Trial runs to make sure you can recreate the look on time. It gives you almost no time to do anything for yourself, let alone answer your phone. Big mistake. Your feet hit the pavement on the sidewalk as you step out of the building drowsy. You were dying to sleep, dying to be tucked under that heavy pink comforter Jin bought you for your birthday.
"HEY!" The voice makes your blood run cold as your head snaps up in the direction. He was here?! At your job?!
"Jungkwon!" You say as he advances towards you.
"I fucking called you. You didn't pick up! What were you doing? Hmm? Spreading your little legs up there?" His voice reaches a high in the quiet street as he grips at your shoulder.
"No! No! I was working!" You say quickly, trying to make yourself as small as possible as he pulls you into the alleyway next to the building.
"Fucking little cunt, you always lie to me." You could smell the alcohol on his breath and you close your eyes as he slams your body into the wall. Your body shuddering in pain as you whimper.
"What was so important that you couldn't answer me?! Hmm?! Taking a cock up your slutty little cunt?" You shake your head fiercely as he grips at your face, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your cheeks as you whimper. His knee connects harshly to your solar plex, a loud gasp emitting from you as your face screws up in pain.
"You're going to fucking get it." His hand wraps around the column of your throat, squeezing harshly as you whine.
Yoongi steps out of the building, his hood going over his head as he yawns. Being in the studio is taking everything out of him lately. He steps onto the sidewalk before walking towards his car with sleepy eyes.
"You're a fucking little brat. You understand me? I'm going to fucking kill you." Yoongi stops, his head turning into the alley as the sky begins to deepen to it's nightly black color. He hears your whimper and his keys slip from his fingers.
"Fucking bastard." The keys tingle as they hit the pavement, Yoongi's hand rests on the windshield as he stares at the two shadows in front of him. It starts at Yoongi's toes. The heat, the fucking vile anger creeps up his veins. His blood curdling hot and tepid as his vision goes red. He doesn't even register how fast his feet move, everything feeling as if it's in slow motion.
"Y/N!" Yoongi calls to you as he jogs into the alleyway. You look over at him, bottom lip split open as blood dribbles down your chin.
"Who the fuck are you?! Huh?" Jungkwon yells nodding with wide eyes at Yoongi. Yoongi pushes his hood off of his head, silver hair glowing in the dim orange light of the street lamps not too far away.
"Get off of her." Jungkwon chuckles before gripping your hair making you whimper.
"She's my girlfriend. This who you were spreading your legs for? HUH?! Slutty little cunt getting fucked by this guy?!" Jungkwon spits on your neck as you flinch. His fingers tugging at your scalp as you screw your eyes shut.
Yoongi advances, his hand forming a fist as he collides his knuckles into your boyfriend's face. Jungkwon staggers back, letting you go as he brings his hand up to his cheek.
"You're going to regret that." He mutters to Yoongi, foam spewing at the sides of his lips as he seethes through his teeth.
"Y/N. Go to my car." Yoongi whispers before looking sideways at your beaten face.
"I-I don't-" "Black Mercedes. Keys are on the floor. Get in and lock the doors. Now." You look at Jungkwon nervously as you begin to move.
"You fucking get in that car, I'll fucking kill you bitch!" Yoongi grits his teeth, his fists jabbing at Jungkwon's face. His knuckles splitting open as he tightens his jaw.
"Go." Yoongi whispers as Jungkwon falls to the floor. You whimper before sprinting to his car by the Bit Hit entrance. Your shaky hands picking up his keys before going through each one. Yoongi kneels on your boyfriend's fallen body. His kneecaps digging into his gut as he peers down at him.
"You ever even think of talking to her or touching her again. I'll fucking ruin you. I'll make you wish you had never been born. You're over." Yoongi spits on Jungkwon's face before standing up.
"Fuck you!" Yoongi smirks before turning back to Jungkwon as he walks to his car. "Fuck you, too. Prick."
Yoongi taps his knuckles on the glass window. His blood smearing the glass as he peers in.
"Just me." He says through the door. You lean over the middle console and unlock the door before putting your face into your knees. Yoongi hops in before locking the doors and turning to you.
"Hey." He whispers gently, his hand caressing your knee making you jump. He pulls back before nodding.
"I'm going to take you to Jin's." He whispers softly, you look up with wide eyes.
"No! No! You can't!" Your voice becoming hysterical as you grab at his hoodie.
"Okay. Okay. I'll take you to my place." He whispers as you begin to whimper. He turns on the car, the headlights flashing at Jungkwon's body as he sits up.
"Put your seatbelt on." He says before leaning over your body and grabbing the seatbelt. You stiffen as he gives you a small smile before securing you into the passenger seat.
"Fucking prick bastard." He mumbles as he revs his engine, he accelerates the gas before driving forward towards Jungkwon’s fallen body. Jungkwon backs up as Yoongi slams hard on the breaks centimeters away from him. He gives a quiet shaky laugh as Jungkwon grabs onto the brick wall of the alley before squeezing his eyes shut.
"He's never going to bother you again." Yoongi mumbles before lowering his window and spitting in Jungkwon's direction.
You step inside Yoongi's apartment, arms folded over one another as you look down at your bare feet.
"Come." He whispers walking through the large apartment. He was very clean, multiple pieces of art on stands as you walk through the hallway. He had some awards in a glass case by the television. As well as pictures of albums on the hallway walls.
"I'm going to give you some clothes to change into. You can take a shower and then we'll talk. Okay?" He asks gently as he opens his walk in closet.
"Okay." You whisper before putting your hair up in a ponytail. Yoongi grabs some clothes. A long black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants come to your hands as you clear your throat. "I'll show you where the shower is."
You seemed to be in a state of shock, Yoongi has gathered. He clinks the ice cube around in his glass of whisky before staring at the large window of his apartment. His head leaning back on the couch as he presses the lip of his glass to his mouth. You were frightened, incredibly so. Yoongi didn't know every single thing you went through but it must have been torture. He closes his eyes as he hears the shower turn off. You were beautiful and you or anyone should never be treated in such a way. He would protect you, keep you safe. No one was getting to harm you ever again.
"Yoongi?" Your voice was soft as it echoed throughout his large apartment.
"Living room!" He says setting down his whisky and sitting up. He could hear how softly your feet were pattering on the floor. As if you had to sneak around to just get by and Yoongi swears his heart could break at any second. He turns his head as your shadow gets bigger on his white walls.
You stand there at the entrance of the hallway, your arms folded and your body hunched over as if you were trying to make yourself small. You had showered off all of the makeup that kept your bruises hidden and Yoongi takes a deep inhale through his nose before turning his head out of respect to try not to stare.
"Come sit." He whispers, closing his eyes. The back of his eyelids were black but they could still see your figure plain as day. Your body tainted with shades of purples and yellows. Bruises that were trying to heal themselves beat back to blue and reds. Yoongi swallows thickly as your feet pad around his glass coffee table. You sit on the farthest end of his L shaped couch before tucking your legs underneath you.
"Can I make you a drink?" Yoongi asks before pointing at his grandiose liquor cabinet.
"Yes, please." He pats his knees before standing up. There was silence, just glass clinking and liquid pouring. You watch with half lidded eyes as Yoongi's back relaxes. His form was tall in stature and you wonder if you would ever be able to stand tall like he is. He turns around and you avert your gaze to the black legs of the glass table. He gives a small smile before walking over and handing you the glass.
"Thank you." He hums before sitting down, closer than before but still giving you some distance so you don't feel cornered. He folds his arms before leaning back into the couch. His eyes flickering to your bruised cheek and split lip.
"Y/N." His voice was soft yet again. His tone drawing your eyes to him as you take a sip of the strong whisky before cringing.
"Thanks for what you did back there. I don't know if it helped but...thanks." He tilts his head before turning to you, his arm angling over the top of the couch.
"Why would it not help? You never have to see him again. He will never hurt you again, I won't fucking stand for it." Yoongi's voice grows louder as you lay your head onto the couch.
"I still live there. All of my stuff is there." Yoongi sighs gently before placing his hand on your knee, you cringe before retracting and he nods.
"Live here. I'll buy you new stuff. I'm good for it. Don't give in to it. Stay here with me." His small eyes shift from looking at your eyes to the other. Pleading with you to stay.
"Why would you be kind to me?" You ask quietly, putting the glass between your knees.
"Because I care that you're in pain. I care about you." And, you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.
"Nobody deserves to be treated this way." He has known pain in his past, he's known cruelty. He's known what being a disappointment is like. But, he doesn't know what abuse is. He doesn't know the domestic agony. And, you shouldn't either. "Stay with me. I'll help you." You look at him before closing your eyes. "Okay." Your voice is like a wisp in the forest. Yoongi catches the glass of whisky as your eyes grow heavy. "I'll protect you." He mumbles putting the glass down on the table.
You had been staying at Yoongi's for a month so far. He was really kind and gave you the space that you needed. You hadn't really talked about Jungkwon or that night since then. Yoongi hands you a glass of whisky before clearing his throat and sitting down beside you on the couch. He takes in your short sleeve black t-shirt before smiling. It was nice to see you in clothes that showed your skin. Your bruises had been healing nicely.
"That shirt is really pretty on you." He whispers before angling his body towards you.
"Thanks." You whisper before taking a sip of the alcohol. The air hangs thin around you both as Yoongi takes off his face mask. His teeth picking at his perfect lips before leaning back against the arm of the couch.
"Wanna talk?" His voice echoing through the quiet apartment as you look at his face.
"About?"
"That time." You take a deep breath before tilting your head. He was for all intents and purposes, the closest person to you besides Seokjin. He was comfort in its most raw form. He had made your heart swell with his caring yet nonchalant actions. Everything about his exuded calmness and you weren't afraid to talk to him. You were afraid to show him how much of a coward you were...are.
"What about it?" Your question lingers in the air as Yoongi tilts his head.
"Everything about it. You can talk to me Y/N. You can tell me everything. I want you to tell me everything." Whether or not you knew, Yoongi's heart has grown fond of you. He relished in hearing you hum through the walls of his apartment. Hearing you giggle in your room at t.v. shows and sing along to music.
"You don't want to know everything." Yoongi sighs before sipping his whisky. His index finger circling the rim of his cup as he stares at you.
"I want to know what you're willing to share." You sit up, your back straightening making him relax. This was one of the first times you had sat up straight, not hunching over or making yourself small.
"It started out small." You take a shaky breath before gulping the whiskey. The burn in your stomach guiding you forward. Yoongi says nothing, his lips pressing into a straight line.
"Started out as small mean comments. 'You're a bitch.' Or, 'You need to learn how to be a woman.' Then it escalated when I got to Big Hit." Yoongi closes his eyes, his hand gripping at the whisky glass.
"He started hitting me to show me that I was weaker than him. I should have stayed home, cooking for him. Doing his laundry. Stuff like that. He drank a lot. And, I would pretend not to be nervous the whole day waiting to get hit when I got home." Yoongi sighs gently, his eyes opening as you close yours.
"I would tip toe around. Hoping to not disturb him or make him upset with me. Even though it didn't matter. Everything I did upset him. Then, it got worse. He would make me..." You feel a lump forming in your throat and you swallow before looking down at your glass. Watching as the whiskey sloshes from side to side in the cup.
"He would make me do...sexual stuff to him when I didn't want to. Tie me and leave me there for him to come back later and do stuff." Yoongi feels sick, he feels his stomach rolling. You were talking but you felt like a shell. Your voice felt distant and non-existent in this space with him.
"He would accuse me of sleeping with everyone at the office. And, I got brainwashed into thinking I did something wrong. It was all my fault that he was doing this because I wasn't good enough." You clear your throat before finishing the whisky and putting the glass on the coffee table. You nod your head before smirking.
"I felt like I was the reason why this was happening to me. I fucked up, I deserved it." You look over at Yoongi, his expression makes your heart break. His eyebrows were knit together, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
"But, you helped. You let me stay, you're letting me become stronger." You whisper as his expression softens.
"You make me feel better. Make me understand that it isn't my fault and I didn't do anything wrong." Yoongi shakes his head.
"You didn't. You're a good person, Y/N." You feel tears prick at your eyes as you smile at him.
"I'm going to hug you, okay?" You nod as he sits up. He envelops you in a hug, that can only be described as warm and loving. Your chin hooking over his shoulder as both of you close your eyes. Yoongi bites at his bottom lip before looking at the ceiling. Something was building between you both. Culminating into something wonderful. Something like love.
You were afraid to tell Jin, his heart might not be able to take it. He might be hurt knowing you suffered and never told him. Yoongi sits in the green room watching you delicately as you still make your form smaller. He clicks his teeth before standing up and sitting in the chair. His eyes looking up at you as you smile at him.
"Are you okay?" He mumbles trying not to draw attention.
"I'm okay." You whisper, his thumb grazing over your knuckles as he angles his face to look at you as you try to avoid the eye contact. Jin notices this, his body leaning over Hoseok's to look through the mirror at the strange contact you both are having. He goes wide eyed before frowning and folding his arms.
"What's up with that?" He mutters, drawing Namjoon's attention. Yoongi sits back in the chair, concerned small eyes examining your face before closing them.
"Something's going on." Namjoon whispers into Seokjin's ear who nods in return.
It was a Tuesday, a day off for once. You were sitting in the kitchen with Yoongi drinking coffee and talking. You could talk about anything and everything, and you loved that.
"This track...I just...I have the beat but it's missing something. I can't put my finger in it." You hum leaning over his body to look at his laptop screen. He places his hand delicately on your upper back and for the first time, you didn't flinch away from him. It didn't bother you, Yoongi has done it on several occasions trying to acclimate you back to reality and he closes his eyes happily as you accept his touch.
"Can I play it?" You ask tilting your head to look at him.
"Please." You press the spacebar before sitting up, the beat of the music flowing through the air loudly. You close your eyes cupping your coffee with both hands and Yoongi takes this opportunity to look at you. You were so gorgeous, you so easily shook up his heart. He finds himself tilting his head as he leans in closer to you.
"You're beautiful." He whispers leaning closer. Your eyes open and you don't back away. You smile before tilting your head like him. He wrinkles his nose at you before taking a deep breath.
"You aren't frightened, right?" You shake your head.
"No." How he loved the sound of your voice. He takes a sharp breath between his teeth as he holds his hand out for you to see. He caresses your cheekbone with his thumb and you lean into his touch.
"Thank you for trusting me."
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" The voice is sharp and you pull away quickly before looking at the front door. Seokjin stands in the doorway, eyes wide as Yoongi closes the laptop.
"Hyung! I didn't hear the door." Yoongi says as you stand up.
"That's what the fuck you're worried about?! The door?!" You make yourself small in front of your best friend and Yoongi furrows his eyebrows.
"Please don't yell in front of Y/N. We can talk, just...just calm down. You're scaring her." Seokjin scoffs folding his arms, his grey peacoat sagging as he raises an eyebrow.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?!" You look up at Jin through your lashes.
"We should talk." You say before walking into the living room and down the hallway to your room.
Jin stares at you before looking at Yoongi in the doorway. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
You pull down your shirt over your now healing back before leaning forward and hugging Jin. He holds you tightly to him as his eyes begin to water.
"You should have told me! I'll fucking kill him!" He sobs loudly putting his hands over his face.
"Yoongi has been really nice, letting me stay here and helping me try to become a normal person again."
"You are normal." Yoongi mumbles as Jin pulls away from you.
"I can't believe you held onto that secret for so long. I'm sorry I didn't notice...I..." Jin wipes at his face with his sleeves before clearing his throat.
"I made sure no one noticed." You tell him putting your hand on his knee.
"I love you. I'm so sorry." Seokjin whispers before hugging you again.
"Love you, too. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He shakes his head before burying his face into your neck.
"Thank you for taking care of her." Jin looks at Yoongi, who in turn is wiping his own tears. His black shirt is over his mouth as he nods. "Always."
The nightmares came and went. Though tonight, every time you closed your eyes you would find yourself awake shortly after gasping for air with tears threatening to spill over. Your body had a sheen layer of sweat as you sit up in your bed. Your hand flying over your heart as you gasp for breath. You don't know how you found your footing but you did. Your feet traipsing out of your room and down to Yoongis. Your hand knocks on his door before opening it. He grumbles gently, his silver hair in his eyes before lifting his head.
"Y/N? What's wrong?" You whimper shaking your head and he sits up at the noise.
"Come." He was quick to throw back his comforter inviting you into his space.
"Can I sleep with you?" Your voice was timid and small.
"Come here." You lay down in his bed, your body finding itself in the fetal position.
"You had a nightmare?" You nod into the pillow as Yoongi sighs gently.
"Nothing can hurt you, I'm here to protect you." You exhale through your nose before feeling his arm wrap around your waist. His chest pressing flush to your back.
"I'm here." In this room, in his space feeling so comfortable you felt the need to speak.
"Sometimes I feel it, when I wake up my body hurts like it's happening to me again. Like, I can't get away from it." Yoongi opens his eyes, your outline gracing his sight in his dark bedroom.
"You are away. You're here, with me. I'll never let anything hurt you again." You turn your body, pressing your face into his chest. He stiffens for a second before putting his chin on top of your head and closing his eyes.
"I kind of love you, Yoongs." He smirks before nodding. "I kinda love you too."
It's been a year. A great year, in fact. A mother fucking year, in the words of Kim Namjoon.
"Yo, shut the fuck up!" You scream with laughter as you throw yourself onto the couch. Seokjin laughs loudly before handing Yoongi a glass of whisky. All the boys had found out about your troubles shortly after you had told Jin. They found out that you live in Yoongi's house although no one knows that you spend every night in Yoongi's bed since that one nightmare. Yoongi had taught you how to be yourself. Taught you to love yourself and love life. To not be afraid. He's given you more than most. And, above all he taught you how to love him.
"I'm serious! She almost threw me out a window!" Taehyung yells as you lay your head on Yoongi's lap. He chuckles quietly before putting the throw blanket over your legs.
"You're so dramatic." You say with a laugh tucking the blanket between your knees. Yoongi's fingers find your hair, running them through delicately as he sips his whiskey.
"We have a schedule tomorrow. We should head out." Jin says as you frown.
"You only just got here." Your whine is loud making Yoongi laugh as he leans forward to put his glass down on the coffee table.
"We've been here for like five hours." He mutters as you pout.
"Never enough time with Worldwide Handsome." Jin makes a pleased noise at the back of his throat.
"That's why she's my best friend. Look at that." You giggle as you sit up, cocooned within the tie dye cashmere blanket as Jin kisses your forehead.
"See you both tomorrow. Hmm?" Taehyung gets up with a groan before waving both hands at you and grabbing the unopened soju bottle.
"Birthday present!" He says scurrying over to the door.
"It's September!" You call with a laugh as Yoongi stands up.
"Y/N. Everyday is my birthday." Taehyung cheers before following Jin out the door. You shake your head with a laugh before standing up and throwing the blanket on the couch. Yoongi looks you over before smirking. You had the confidence to wear a dress and he loves that.
"Let's clean up and go to bed. I'm tired." Yoongi mutters as he grabs the take out containers from the table. You nod to him before yawning and grabbing the used glasses before walking into the kitchen. Yoongi's eyes follow you as you walk tall before wrinkling his nose.
Yoongi's arm falls under his head as you lay next to each other in his bed.
"Do you feel that?" You ask quietly, he turns his head raising an eyebrow.
"Feel what?" "The love between us?" He snorts before laughing loudly.
"Who allowed you to be so corny?" You giggle before turning to look at him. His eyes were already on your face, his lips quirked up in a smile. Yoongi turns his body as you stare at each other.
"I feel it, though." He whispers before caressing your cheek.
"Me too." He hums in agreement before leaning closer.
"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" You close your eyes, the exciting sensation starting from your toes and spreading to your heart. His warm lips pressed to yours, the kiss was soft and heartfelt. Your hand finds the back of his head, fingers intertwining with his locks of hair as you pull him closer.
"I love you. You know that right? And, I'm here when you're ready to begin again."
"I love you, too." Yoongi presses his forehead to yours before closing his eyes.
"I'm ready." You whisper into the quiet room. His gummy smile appears on his face as he pulls you close to him.
"I'll always be here to protect you. To make sure you're safe." You bury your face into his neck as he squeezes you tightly.
"I love you, Yoongs."
"I love you, too."
#yoongi x reader#trigger warnings#min yoongi#bts imagine#bts story#bts series#taehyung#jin#namjoon#hoseok#jimin#jeongguk
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Maybe please get Stevebit at the carnival and smooches and giggles and 🥺 pleaseeeee ilysm you don’t understand ahhhh no rush at all *floof your hair*!🙏
CAS THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I’M SO SORRY!!
Carnivals
Steve-bit, fluff & mild angst
Bittersweet, unrequited(?) love, ambiguous ending
As he stared, chewing absentmindedly on a candied apple, the saturated colors of the tents, flashes of light of the signs, and blurs of motion from the rides of the carnival slowly blended into nothing but a multi-colored blur in the background of his thoughts; but he could see every detail of Steve perfectly, like the way the candy coating the apple dripped from his plump lips as it melted in the sun and stuck to his teeth. Two-bit felt his heart start to race as thoughts of kissing the sticky mess right off filled his head.
He was shaken from his thoughts by a hard nudge in the ribs from Steve.
"Hey, get a load of the kid," Steve said, a smirk playing the lips Two-bit had just been admiring.
"Which kid?" Two-bit asked, his head still fuzzy from the warm thoughts swimming around up there.
Steve raised an eyebrow at him, then reached out and grabbed Two-bit's chin with his hand, turning his head to look over by a concession stand; where one Ponyboy Curtis was talking to a girl who looked to be at least eighteen years old.
Two-bit shrugged, he remembered being fourteen once and in love with every pretty lady that walked by. For all he knew the kid was dipping his toes in the art of flirting, and even though that would probably only result in a condescending smile and a pat on the head, it was still nice to see little Pony following in his big brother's footsteps.
But Steve didn't seem to share this sentiment.
In fact, the seventeen-year-old stood up from his seat so fast that Two-bit nearly fell out of the cheap plastic chair he was resting on, and marched right over to the flirting senior and the awkwardly giggling freshmen.
As Two-bit jumped up to follow, quickly thinking of something he could say to diffuse the situation, Steve had shoved himself in-between a now sputtering Ponyboy and a pissed-off woman.
"Lanie, he's a fucking kid!" Steve snarled, reaching his arm out to tuck Ponyboy safely behind him as if he were protecting the kid from a stabber.
Lanie rolled her eyes, "Calm your ass down, Steve," she was dressed rather conservatively despite the weather, which was usual for her.
Two-bit remembered that she helped him cheat on an English test a few months ago, as he was held back and she'd already graduated; while they weren't good friends, he didn't want to believe she would purposefully try to creep on Ponyboy.
"Hey, Steve-O, Lanie didn't mean nothing by it," Two-bit tried to defend, standing by Lanie, "You didn't even hear what they said."
Pony finally piped up, "It wasn't anything bad, I promise! She was just saying I look like Sodapop," he awkwardly was shifting his feet around, face flushed and looking a little guilty.
Steve huffed, he didn't seem satisfied, but that wasn't an uncommon thing for people to tell Ponyboy.
Lanie seemed annoyed. "Are you his parents now? Honestly, Steve, you aren't a knight in shining armor, just mind your damn business for once."
Steve balled his fists, "It is my business if I think a little kid is gonna get preyed on by some old hag!"
"JESUS CHRIST, ALL THEY DID WAS TALK!" Two-bit finally snapped, at his wits end with the stupid conversation. He liked Steve, he really truly did, but sometimes his protective nature was overbearing.
Steve looked at Two-bit, a little shocked. Two-bit flinched at how hurt he looked. He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to decide against it. Jamming his fists into his pockets he stepped down.
"Ponyboy, stay with us," Steve said as Pony started to wander off after Lanie left.
Pony groaned. "Steve I'm old enough to be on my own, c'mon!"
Two-bit gave Steve a quick nudge. "Hey, hey, let the kid go, he's fine on his own."
Steve looked like he wanted to argue, but clearly not wanting a repeat of what just happened he shrugged. "Fine. But don't talk to strangers." he conceded.
Ponyboy smiled at Two-bit, and Two-bit shot him a wink, then he ran off to go get into trouble somewhere else.
Two-bit sighed and looked beside him at Steve. "Hey, now. what was that about?" he asked softly, remembering that Steve had a similar outburst over Sylvia talking to Johnny, only that time he threatened to get violent.
Steve shook his head, scrunching up his nose like he always did when he was uncomfortable. "I just... I just don't want him getting hurt." was all he said, and Two-bit knew he wasn't going to get any more out of him.
Two-bit wasn't good with touchy-feely shit, never had been and probably never would be, but what he lacked in ability to dig to the root of the problem he more than made up for in ability to distract from the pain.
"Soooo, wanna go hunt some action?" he asked with a hearty chuckle, savoring the smile that got from Steve.
"Yeah, yeah I do." Steve said.
----------
The park would close after midnight, but right now, the sky was filled with a bright orange glow, turning the trees on the horizon to inky shadows. Two-bit didn't stop to admire though, he just ran beside Steve through the crowd away from the clerk they had antagonized into chasing them.
It was fair, in Two-bit's opinion, seeing as the guy had taunted them over losing a rigged game. But unfortunately, the chase ended early when the clerk decided he didn't want to chase anymore and went back to his job. That sucked, Two-bit was hoping there'd be a fight.
"God, I'm beat." Steve said, stretching his arms out, nearly making Two-bit drool as he watched the way they flexed. "Wanna do something more relaxing before we head back?"
Two-bit's nodded as he gestured to the Ferris wheel, "We could rest up there, maybe we can scout out the others from the height." He said.
Steve's eyes got wide when he saw just how tall it was. "Are you sure?" He asked, taking a step back as though intimidated.
Two-bit cocked a rusty brow, watching Steve avert his eyes from the ferris wheel. “Ya good?” He asked, breaking the brief silence.
Steve nodded jerkily, his dark hair bouncing. “Yeah! No worries! I just don’t wanna lose my lunch.” He said, waving a hand dismissively.
Two-bit smirked, shaking his head, “Alright, whatever you say.”
After walking together in silence for a little while, they found a nice place in the grass to sit and watch the sun sink below the tree line. It was in between the space of two rides that had already shut down for the evening, so there was plenty of privacy. As the buildings they were sat in between turned black in the growing darkness, the sky turned gold.
Steve shivered from where he sat cross-legged on the grass, his denim vest doing nothing against the cold chill, so Two-bit draped his leather jacket over the other boy’s shoulder’s gently, basking in the red flush that came across his cheeks.
“Sooo,” Two-bit began as Steve tiredly leaned against him, “What was that back there? You wanna tell me now?”
He tensed as he waited for Steve response, feeling the boy’s muscles tighten at the question.
“I just... Don’t want Ponyboy getting hurt.” Steve said softly.
Two-bit considered prying, after all, Steve had threatened Sylvia when he thought she was attempting to harass Johnny (a mistake that left Steve terrified of the girl), but the way Steve’s body went taut and he bit down into his lips made Two-bit’s heart break a little. Even if it meant getting into the root of the problem, he didn’t want his friend to be hurting like that.
The silence grew from tense to comfortable as the pair leaned against each other, no words needing to be spoken. When Two-bit was about to ask if they should start looking for the others, he heard the gentle sound of snoring from Steve.
Two-bit woke him up, of course, but not before pressing a tiny kiss to his cloud of dark hair.
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Kevin Day and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt. VII
Happy Birthday, Kevin. I’m so glad you exist. We all are. Here, I give to you friendship, love and care. You’re gonna get through this, I promise. ♥️
>> Table of Contents, TW and other parts are here!
Jean leaves
after their game against the Trojans, Kevin says goodbye to Jeremy Knox, and to Jean
Kevin feels heavy, he feels torn, and sad and scared, because he’s alone once again
and he’s afraid he’ll never see Jean again, that whatever they managed to have hear in Palmetto was their unofficial “break up” and that Jean will never speak to him again
Jean had cried, he’d begged, he didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to be abandoned again, he didn’t want to be away from Kevin again
but Jeremy Knox had somehow worked his magic, and Jean had genuinely (well, as genuine as one can be after the Nest) accepted Jeremy’s offer, and even chose to move immediately to South California with him instead of waiting for the summer
Kevin hoped it wasn’t in an attempt to put as much distance between them and more because Jean was on his way to healing, even if it was away from him
they had hugged one last time, in Abby’s guest room, and poured everything they felt for each other in their embrace
they both knew things would be different from now on
they knew it would be hard, and painful
they knew the healing would be slow, that nasty things would resurface
but in that moment, they didn’t care
“Jean… Jean listen to me,” Kevin whispered in Jean’s ear. “Hell is over. You got through it. You got out. You’ll be safe, now, okay? I know- I know we have to process things… Take your time. Rely on Jeremy. Rely on your team. The Trojans are great. And I’m not just talking about Exy. Okay, Jean? You’ll be safe now. You’ll be far away from all this mess. And if there is anything, anything, Jean, you call me. I’ll be there. I don’t care why or how; I’ll be there for you, Jean.”
they held on tighter to each other, tears silently streaming down their faces
Kevin cradled the back of Jean’s head as Jean clutched Kevin’s shirt in his fist
they had to let go, they had to, and yet…
I care for you. I love you. I do. I’ll always love you.
words left unsaid, barely exchanged in a look, barely understood in their eyes
words that had never held any meaning to them, words they’d never heard, words they’d never said
they weren’t about to start saying them now, but their presence was strong
But this is goodbye, for now.
they let go
Jean leaves
Jean is gone
none of the Foxes know what’s happened, but they do feel the consequences
and it doesn’t help that their next and ultimate game is against the Ravens, at Edgar Allen, their last chance at winning Championships, at beating the odds and their nemesis
Kevin is a huge fucking asshole all week
he can’t seem to help it
he lashes out, he fights, he drinks…
he’s obsessed, he’s panicking, he’s a monster
the high of helping Jean has worn off, the high of their win against the Trojans has worn off
fear is all that’s left
Wymack has to forcefully bring him to Betsy at 6 AM when he finds Kevin at the court, having passed the whole night practicing, even after Neil and Andrew left around 3 AM
Kevin is shaking all over in his chair
Betsy doesn’t offer hot cocoa
Kevin doesn’t want to be here, never did, never will
Betsy has to thread carefully, has to approach him from the right angle
“How is Jean settling in at USC?” she calmly asks
“We’re not talking about Jean,” Kevin spits back immediately
“Okay. What are we talking about?”
“We’re not talking.”
“That’s alright. I’ll talk for a bit, then. As your designated therapist, your health is under my care as much as it is under Abby’s and David’s. What this means is, my word weights as much as theirs when it comes to who plays, and who doesn’t. Exy has been good for you, Kevin. Exy is good for a lot of you, actually. However, what my professional advice would be, in your case, is that you are to be forbidden from playing this last game against Edgar Allen.”
Kevin gasps
Before he can unleash the thousands of obscenities on the tip of his tongue, Betsy raises a calm hand to hold him off
“I won’t do that. I should, but I won’t. Ultimately, not playing would aggravate your mental state more than facing Edgar Allen and pushing yourself past your limits. You need this. You need closure. You need proof. In my opinion, it won’t solve your problems, it won’t solve your traumas, your alcoholism, your PTSD, your anxiety, your anger issues, and I’m being brief. But this is something you want to do, and I understand its importance. So I won’t be interfering.”
Kevin scoffs, uncooperative
“But hear this, Kevin: at the rate you’re going, you are not going to win this game. You’re not. You’re going to break, you’re going to lose, and then you won’t be getting back up. This? Right now? This is your point of no return.”
Kevin gapes at her
he can’t believe the words that just came out of Betsy’s mouth
not because they are cruel, or unprofessional, or harmful
it’s because they are true
Kevin finds that her words resonate in him, like the echoes of a desperate cry for help within himself
Kevin doesn’t cry, because he can’t, he doesn’t remember how to
he does however go into full-blown panic
without a bottle in his clutch
it’s bad
it’s really bad
he hears half the words Betsy says next
“Kevin, this is a panic attack. You know this, this is familiar. Don’t be afraid of it, you are not going to die. Not on my watch. I’m going to hold you now, okay? Do I have your permission?”
Kevin nods frantically as he chokes on air
Betsy gets up to come sit beside Kevin on the couch and takes him in her arms
she buries his head over her shoulders and crosses her arms behind his back; without rocking as to not increase the nausea, Betsy begins squeezing Kevin every three seconds, raising her shoulders everytime to encourage him to breathe
“One, two, three, in, Kevin. One, two, three, out, Kevin.”
the pressure of her arms and her deep, motherly voice bring Kevin down from his attack after a good twenty minutes
“I’m going to release you now, Kevin, okay? Can I let go of you?”
Kevin slowly nods, his eyes fixated on a point behind Betsy’s back
she doesn’t even have the time to sit back down on her own chair, though, before Kevin pulls a Neil and sprints out of her office
Wymack can’t even catch up to him
he runs, and runs, and runs
his feet should take him to his dorm, to the alcohol cabinet, or even to the court, to his gear
they don’t
he stops running right in front of Jackie Hall
rationally, Kevin knows classes start at 8:30, that Jules has been getting back in class progressively, that she was slowly getting back on her feet
irrationally, Kevin fears she won’t be there, or that she will, but in pieces on the floor, or that she won’t want to see him, or that she’ll know, or that-
his feet take him inside nonetheless
in a haze, he once again faces door 418
he doesn’t realize he’s knocked until his fist meets the air when the door opens
he woke up Jules, and she looks like it; eyes puffed from sleep, bonnet half off, naked feet
“Kev? Wha- You’re here. Why are you here? Are you- Are you okay? Why are you dressed like that?”
Kevin looks down, at his Exy clothes
his Exy clothes
Shit.
“Okay, no, it’s too early for this. Come on, don’t just stand there. Go shower. I’ll be there after, yeah?” she says as she ushers him inside her dorm room
but Kevin can’t seem to move, now that he has stopped
so Jules grabs two of his fingers and pulls him inside
which then pulls Kevin out of his apathy
“I don’t- I can’t- I-,” he tries
“Do I need to call someone? Are you in danger?” Jules panics a little bit
“N-No… I- Clothes… It’s all I have…” Kevin explains with difficulty
“Oh.”
Jules locks the door behind them and goes to her bed, only to pull out a pile of clothes from under the corner pillow
she brings them to Kevin
“You left this last time you were here… I figured if you didn’t ask for it back, it’d be more useful here in case… Well… You know… That,” she explains, a bit embarrassed
Kevin furrows his eyebrows, he looks like he is on the verge of crying
he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t, but if he could…
he gently takes the clothes and locks himself in the joint bathroom, without a word
Jules is left standing there, still shocked, nervous, overwhelmed…
she quickly undresses herself while Kevin is out of the room, puts on some more decent clothes that what he is used to see her in, washes her face in the tiny sink and fixes her hair for the day
she gets cold as she waits for Kevin, and pulls on a red polo sweater, the only one she has left that doesn’t need to be washed
she waits for Kevin on her bed
Kevin comes out of the bathroom at last, black sweatpants, black shirt, white socks on
he’s clutching his Exy uniform in his arms, close to his chest, close to his heart
Jules gets up to go fetch them two granola bars, the only two she has left of her oh so spare groceries
Kevin looks at it as if she’d handed him a live kitten
he gets that pained look again
“Are you sure that’s okay…?” he asks her
“Yeah, I’m sure. You need it, Kevin. Eat,” she answers him
she sits down on the floor and invites him to do the same
they eat in silence, Jules watching his every moves
Kevin barely nibbles at his bar
“Kevin… Tell me,” Jules finally speaks
and he can’t hold it in anymore
he tells her everything
everything.
from Betsy’s emergency session this morning all the way back to his mom’s death
and everything in between
Riko. The Nest. Exy. His hand. The Foxes. Thea. The alcohol. Andrew. Neil. The mafia. Jean, again, honestly this time.
everything.
it lasts for hours
or so they think
turns out the sun has barely been up for an hour when Kevin finally closes his mouth, emptied of all his bad history
Jules has bitten the skin off of her lips, but has stayed put where she sat next to him nonetheless, through it all
after a while, breaking the heavy silence, Jules asked the only question one could ask after such a story
“What do you need, Kev?”
what did he need, indeed…
“I- Help me…” was the only answer he could think of
it chilled Juliet to her core
she couldn’t
she couldn’t do that
she was a mess
she didn’t have the strength
she was falling apart at the seams
“Kevin, I- Look at me… Look at my life… I am the last person you want help from… I can’t hold you up like that… I can’t be your anchor…”
she was on the verge of crying, too
but she could cry for real
it took her everything not to
Kevin blamed himself relentlessly
“No, no, no, no… I’m not- I just want… Someone,” Kevin tried to explain
Kevin took a deep breath, getting ready to confess
“I can’t do therapy. I can’t do it. Not alone. I just can’t. I hate is so fucking much. I can’t do it alone.”
Jules understood
her eyes widened in surprise
“You want to do… Joined therapy? With me?”
“Yes.”
“Why.”
“I can’t talk to her… I can’t talk to Betsy. I don’t know how to. I don’t even want to. But you… I can talk to you. I want to talk to you. But I can’t do that to you. We need an outlet. Hence, you, Betsy, and me… The dream team,” Kevin chuckled sadly
it made no sense
it was unconventional, unheard of
it was playing with fire, playing with their traumas
“Okay,” she said
“Okay?” he asked in disbelief
“Okay.”
---
and so they walked back to Betsy’s office, together
Betsy is quite surprised, to say the least
not that Kevin came back
but that he came back willingly, with a plan and desire to get better, and accompanied
before agreeing to Kevin’s deal, however, she has conditions of her own
“One: these sessions are to be once a week, and more if I deem it necessary, no arguing. Two: No more alcohol. You go sober or nothing of this will work. Three: As soon as this Exy season is over, you are to be put on antidepressants. Again, meds mean sobriety.”
Kevin nods, somber but willing to try
“Also: we will all sign a contract to prevent any more harm and to clarify the conditions under which these sessions are to take place. It will be a bit different, as you are not family, or a couple, but we can make this work.”
Juliet and Kevin consent
“One last thing: I will need a full session alone with you, Juliet. I have to evaluate you, evaluate if you are not a threat to Kevin’s well-being, and if Kevin is not a threat to yours. We also need to get to know each other, I’m sure you’d like to know who you’ll be dealing with, yeah? I promise I’m not usually so serious. Would that be okay with you, Juliet?”
Juliet nods on her own, before she is hit with a heavy realization
“Ma’am- Doctor- I- I don’t have the money. I can’t. I should’ve thought about it sooner. I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” Jules apologizes
“Oh, that won’t be a problem, dear. I’m funded by the Palmetto Foxes. And believe me or not, they don’t use my services as much as they should. Right, Kevin? Besides, Kevin needs this. I need Kevin to do this. And I have a strong feeling you need this too. I assure you, money will not be a problem,” Betsy responds
“But… I’m not a- a Fox…”
“Oh, trust me, dear. You’re a Fox alright. Just not on a court.”
#that was such a big chunk to write i hope it's not too much#if you want to know what i listened to while writing this#it's Where's My Love (Acoustic Version) by SYML#yeah#welcome to the foxes juliet#happy birthday kevin day#aftg#all for the game#kevin day#betsy dobson#jean moreau#david wymack#tfc#trk#tkm#the foxhole court#the raven king#the king's men#nora sakavic#exy#Palmetto State Foxes#the foxes#psu foxes#OC juliet grier#kevjean#andrew minyard#neil josten#Andreil#dan wilds#riko moriyama
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The ask game: 'Demons' : )
Well initially I wrote it just to get the first chapter out of my head tbh. But once I started to conceptualize it as a multi-chapter fic it was definitely that first big Catradora fight/talk that I was building up to. There’s so many layers and so much baggage addressed and it really is like the first big turning point of the fic where they start to understand each other a little bit better. Honestly I’m still annoyed we never got to see them really talk much of this stuff out in canon, but *sigh* I guess that’s what fanfic’s for.
Anyway, I’ll put one of my fave exchanges from that conversation under the cut. This really is the core of why Catra is so angry and hurt in season 1, and it’s old news now, but back when I published it a couple years ago this was still something a lot of the fandom didn’t seem to understand...
New Ask game. Send me one of my fic titles and I’ll tell which was THAT SCENE for that fic. (Writing a fic consists of having one scene you want to write and scrambling to come up with an entire plot just so you can write that one scene.)
A mild headrush makes Adora’s mouth fall open once again. “Entrapta’s alive?”
Catra blinks, genuinely confused. “You thought she was dead?”
“Yeah, obviously,” says Adora. “I’d never leave her behind.”
The breath leaves Catra’s body. Adora couldn’t have punched her in the gut harder if she was She-ra on steroids. Forcing out a cruel laugh, Catra snipes, “Lucky her.”
“That’s not fair,” huffs Adora, crossing her arms as best she can with a giant sword in one hand. “I asked you to come with me.”
“After you’d already decided to leave.”
Head tilting, Adora purses her lips. “Oh, I’m sorry I assumed you’d want to leave if you knew the Horde was evil.”
“Right, you assumed I couldn’t have any opinions or feelings of my own,” parries Catra.
“So in your opinion it was okay that the Horde was attacking a village full of innocent people?”
Catra scoffs. “Since when do you care if the Horde hurts innocent people? You never tried to stop them before.”
“I never knew-”
“For fuck’s sakes, Adora, I’m not talking about those stupid fucking villagers!”
Catra’s outburst shocks Adora into silence, leaving her to stare dumbly into her flaming, mesmerising eyes. Her confusion must show, because Catra’s fists clench at her sides and she spells out, “How is it you only realized the people who raised us were terrible when you saw what their army did to people you didn’t even know? Did you never clue in when they were hurting me all those years?”
Face falling, Adora stammers, “That’s- that’s different…”
“Why, because I deserved it?”
“Because that’s how I grew up,” she says, sidestepping the partial truth in Catra’s accusation. Though Adora always thought Shadow Weaver was unnecessarily harsh with Catra, she justified it by telling herself that’s just what happens when you’re unruly and disrespectful to your superiors. It was easier to think of it that way than to admit how uncomfortable it made her, how unfair it felt. “It’s what I was used to. I only started to question things once I met Glimmer and Bow.”
“Of course they made you see it. You go running off with those two and suddenly a bunch of random strangers mean more to you than me.” Though her face is all hard lines of anger, Catra’s eyes scream with pain as she demands, “How do you think that made me feel?”
It’s an ingrained response, reaching for Catra when she sees her in pain. But when Adora automatically steps closer and lifts a hand, Catra takes a deliberate step back, leaving her grasping at air. A dull ache fills Adora’s chest and she drops her hand. Channelling all her sincerity, she wills Catra to hear her, really hear her when she says, “I did what I did for the greater good, not because I cared about them more than you.” The rising lump in her throat alters her voice slightly as she continues, “No one means more to me than you, Catra. No one. You’re my best friend.”
Scowling at the floor, Catra corrects her. “Was your best friend.”
Head shaking slightly, Adora murmurs, “That’s not how it feels when I look at you.”
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I know you're not exactly a DA blog anymore... But... I just finished DA2 for the very first time and, and. I got myself Inquisition with all DLCs. I need to know what happens. I want the poor baby Cullen to be happy :(
Nonnie, I am still at my heart very much a DA blog (and Mass Effect; I just tend to smear new obsessions everywhere. Like finger painting). I curate my experience as much as I can due to the fandom being shit, but my love for DA is strong and steady.
The best thing I can say is, play through the game and DLCs. (Tho suggested order is Jaws > Descent > Trespasser) I promise you, Cullen has the option of being happy. I wouldn’t write about it if I didn’t see those paths, and at least some of them are canon.
I know what you mean, tho. Cullen is, to some of my friends’ dismay, near and dear to my heart. He’s my canon quiz’s romance, for many reasons. The truth is, I struggle with the fandoms’ interpretations of him and was just talking about this with my DA/FO/ME bestie @asaara-writes the other day. I think a lot of Cullen’s trauma is easily missed or overlooked in favor of louder plots (like Fenris’s, who doesn’t get hated on nearly so much for his hatred and distrust of mages, or Anders who hates Templars and is lauded for it. If I see another ANDERS WAS RIGHT banner, I’m gonna overclock somebody’s capacitors)
(Pardon me, I’ll throw this under a cut because wall of text, but I have some got-damn Opinions on Cullen and how the fandom treats him)
But for me, I’m neither in the “Cullen is poor bab who never did anything wrong uwu” or the “Cullen is a horrible bastard and should be set afire” camp. I walk a more moderate line, and here’s why:
I have a Cullen.
My fiance, he’s... so much like Cullen that it breaks my heart. Military vet, disillusioned with his desire to do good in the world and the realities of corruption and power abuse. Substance abuse issues, and recovery from addiction. Said some bad things/had bad opinions when he was younger due to abuse by certain groups of people, and has since reformed and is trying to continue changing. Abuse survivor. Blood on his hands from his career. Trying his best to find his way in a world that he doesn’t understand. So I see the similarities, and I live with the reality of what that kind of history and life is like.
Cullen was a fresh-faced 18 year old in the Kinloch Circle (however old his in-game image looks, he was canon 18-20). Which, by canon, was one of the less problematic, more lenient Circles (though you have to have Mage origin to find that stuff out). I don’t think he’d been a Templar long at that point. And he joined the Templars out of a desire to do good in the world. His examples of Templar behavior were those stationed in a small village, who had more leniency and less lawkeeping duties. Honnleath was tiny, and quiet. I’m going on assumption here, on my own history of small towns vs larger cities, that there wasn’t much evidence of power hunger and abuse an eight year old would notice.
Note that he remains kind and even remorseful at some of his duties (for instance, having to attend Harrowings) even under a hateful man like Greagoir.
When Uldred takes over the Circle and kills everyone, Cullen is the last left. He watches possessed mages and demons run wild in his home, killing and torturing his friends. If you’re a mage origin, he talks about how the demons used his feelings and affection for you, inappropriate though they were, to torment him. It’s implied through dialogue that at least some of those demons sexually abused him.
Yes, in his panic and fresh trauma, he begs the Warden to kill any mages found left in the Circle. I wonder why. Tumblr at large acts like the only way for PTSD and trauma to be exhibited is through cowering and nightmares, but it’s well known among people who have PTSD (including myself) that outrage, hair trigger tempers, and anger issues are as common as crying jags and insomnia.
After the resolution of Broken Circle, Cullen is reassigned to Kirkwall. Arguably, this is the worst possible Circle he could have been sent to in the entirety of the goddamn world. Not only is Kirkwall famous for increased blood mage activity (both due to history and also due to Templar behavior), which is one of his trauma-groups, but Meredith hates mages, and rules over them with an iron fist. She is fucking crazy, and whether her past makes her a sympathetic villain or not (ymmv), she downright encouraged the abuse of mages and as she loses her mind, we see her start accusing everyone of blood magic.
Canon states that there are Templars in Kirkwall who sexually abuse mages, who torture them, and who kill them at will, and these are never dealt with. Meredith has no desire to change the way the Gallows is run, and it’s said or implied that before her reign as the overseer, the Gallows-- while still not great-- was not this bad.
So, freshly traumatized and young Templar is sent to the worst possible place in Thedas, under the command of a crazed mage hater, surrounded by the very thing that will trigger him nigh constantly. I see a lot of the fandom say “well why didn’t he quit/leave?” And I wonder if those fans understand what indoctrination can do. Specifically, military indoctrination. You’re told that the ranks are your home, your family, the only ones who can or will ever understand you. You’re told this for so long that it becomes a life raft. It becomes your world truth. That’s the nature of emotional abuse that fosters codependency: it literally reshapes your world.
Added to that, Templars are controlled by the Chantry through lyrium, an addictive drug that quitting is difficult and surviving the withdrawal of is often fatal. (that’s another rant entirely that can be summed up as tl;dr fuck the fucking Chantry)
The Templars were the only thing he knew. After that kind of soul-shaking trauma, do you leave behind everything you ever knew? (Remember, he was 13 when he joined into this kind of brainwashing.) No. You cleave to what you can, to what keeps you getting through the day.
Cullen spent a further ten years in Kirkwall, watching the city fall apart under Qunari, blood magic, and Meredith’s increasing insanity. There was no reprieve for his PTSD: everywhere he turned, there was Something. And yet, we hear in Inquisition (depending on player choices, ofc) Samson say that Cullen tried to continue to be kind. He didn’t abuse mages, he tried to protect them where and how he could.
[Samson: He arrived after the trouble at the ferelden circle. Cullen jumped at his shadow in those days, always on the watch for abominations and demons. Did right by the mages, though, never played rough with them. Not like Meredith.]
Was it limited? Yes. Was it hampered by circumstance? Yes. Should he have tried harder? Yes.
But he still tried.
Does he say regrettable things? Yes. Does he regret those things later? Yes.
I had a friend, who I am no longer friends with for various reasons, tell me that “If Cullen was a good person, he wouldn’t need a redemption arc.” And... no, No, that’s not how redemption arcs work. Everyone does problematic things. Everyone who grows up brainwashed has to unlearn shit, and atone for shit.
Cullen still struggles with mages. He still has a deep fear of them. Partly this is the Templar in him talking, partly this is trauma. And, here’s where we break from canon and go deep into psychology land: I think partly because he’s projecting. Cullen cannot imagine forgiveness for what he’s done. I wonder if part of him fears mages because he expects-- perhaps even some part of him desires-- retribution from them for his actions and past.
And there’s things that have been retconned or that were misleading in previous games. For example, the rumor that Cullen escaped after Broken Circle and went on a mage murdering spree. That was nothing but a rumor, but the fandom levies it against him as if it happened.
But if Cullen “hated” mages, you wouldn’t be able to romance him as a mage. And honestly, that mage romance in DAI? Is one of the sweetest, most tender things I’ve seen in DA. As a mage, you can choose to help him past his fears, help him with his lyrium addiction. Help him grow as a person, and watch as he becomes a better person. As he learns that mages are more than their magic, and that Templars are so often wrong and awful in their treatment of them.
I find Cullen to be well written. And believable as hell. The portrayal of him-- from the mood swings, to the trauma, to the shaky but steadying growth-- feels real, and I can back that up with my fiance’s own similar path.
So. To wrap up because hoooooo, Opinions, play through the game. There’s a lot of gems there. <3
#cullen rutherford#fandom critical#dragon age#anti-cullen#cullen critical#i have a lot of Opinions on this#also no i'm not taking opinions on this#my real life experience applied to fandom is more important to me than being yelled at for liking a character i find relatable af#Anonymous#food for thought#food for thot
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