#what food/dishes do you just LOVE and wish others paid more attention to??
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Darlings give me recipe recommendations!
#what food/dishes do you just LOVE and wish others paid more attention to??#i wanna know!#trying pasta alla puttanesca demain xx#you can comment here or send a message via askbox (anon is an option if you are shy âĄ)
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THIS IS MY FIRST ASTRO OBSERVATIONS POST SO TAKE IT WITH A GRAIN OF SALT LMAOđđ( I am not an astrologer) :
Venus in the 6th house adore animals, they might be also a bit of a freak about health.
Iâm not 100% positive of this but I can tell Neptune in 6th house natives suffer from compulsive disorder about health, on a daily level. I know a person that has this placement, and they overthink about every detail they about to do. đ
Mars in the 8th house or in Aries OR in Aries degrees tend to have anger issues, they have a hard time dealing with anger when things donât go the way they want.
Jupiter in the second house have huge appetite, they are obsessed with food and love to try new dishes, even if they are thin.
Moon in the 3th house think with their heart more than their mind. they take everything to the heart, sadly they get offended easily. they are attached to their siblingsđ„șđ they also overthink about every little thing. đđ€·đ»ââïž
Venus in the 8th house get males attention easily,kind of giving the vibes of âthe most attractive and mysterious in the roomâ(do u guys want me to do a post about Venus in the houses? )
Taurus in the 9th house is a super lucky placement for the areas the house rules , people with this placement are nerds, they get good marks, they lowkey love studying, they travel all over the world , they-
I saw a post the other day and it was about how weird Virgo risings smile in pictures and itâs TRUE đđ they tend to awkwardly smile while staring when you get them a pictuređđ€·đ»ââïž
Iâm sorry but obviously Virgo Venus, Capricorn Venus, libra Venus are the hardest to impress, but when they fall in love, they fall HARD. đ„șâ€ïž am I right?
As someone who has the Saturn in 11th house.... I have nothing to say but itâs never fair. đ€Šđœââïž like no matter how nice I am I get misunderstood and everyone being rude for no reasonnn??? Such a unfairness placement. đąđđ
The intimidating energy lilith in first house gives đ«đ€.
mars In Leo could be the funniest to be around , but donât try to disrespect them in front of anyone, their mood could switch in a second and get back at you right away đđ€Łalso with Scorpio mars, they are not the type to shut down when stuff like these accrue to themđ€Șđ.
Neptune in the 6th house makes the native think like âwhat if - what if â a lot in a DAILY routine lmao. Sorry I know not funny.
Venus in 10th house are ATTRACTIVEEEE they have a lot of admirers, also a stellium in such a house with positive aspects surely indicates the same thing. Could be also in 5th house. LIT đ„.
Venus in 1st house gets people to like them for their mesmerizing beauty, innocent like beauty,the vibes they give in fIrst impressions are ADORABLE đ„șIâm not sure but they could use that to get away with things. đ€Łđđ
Are Pluto in the 5th house the obsessive one or the ones who attract obsessive people? đ€·đ»ââïž(I know the answer lmaoo)
Mars in the 9th house have passion for travel, they are so strict in religious matters, they could find what makes them happy in what the 9th house representatives areas
Moon in the 11th house is such a cute placement , I wish I have it đ„ș.
Letâs just agree that moon in libra is such a infinite beauty indicator? Madison beer has it, should I mentions more? justin Bieber , and ME. srsly every libra moon I met have some type of beauty in them wether itâs physically or in the heart, even both! I mean after all their heart is ruled by Venus đ©đđ.
Well this is a quick random one, I wrote this in less than 10 minutes cause Iâm bored lol so đ€Łđ(comment for paid chart readings đ$)
#astro community#astro observations#astro placements#astrology placements#astrology tumblr#astro chart#natal chart#venus in virgo man#aishwarya rai#composite chart#astro notes
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Path to Nowhere verse
Born to a couple of modest means in Outland, Melissa knew from a very young age that she wished to touch peopleâs hearts. Endlessly fascinated with movies, songs and books, the young girl wished to make it big in DisCity and to move audiences with her talents. Blessed with good looks, a lovely singing voice and undeniable charisma, it wasnât long after 18 that the woman departed for the city of her dreams - only to be faced with the harsh, cold truth that people like her were not welcome; her aspirations were silly little things in the bigger picture of the most powerful city in the world.
Most of her time was spent away from any stage available to performers - instead, Melissa worked hard to support herself just enough to remain there, doing all sorts of menial jobs found which could guarantee her rent and food. Doing dishes, waiting on tables, cooking - the woman did it all, but never stopped looking for the chance to make her debut. The opportunity came completely by accident: while she was on cleaning duty of a jazz club that was one of her many employers, Melissa was singing by herself while tidying the place late at night - the manager happened to hear it, liking it enough to give her a proper go on the next evening (although not much was said about her name or origins).
It was enough - there had been no money paid for the songs, any promises for a repeat performance or other assurances: just the one chance, but Melissa grabbed it with determination. Her night was moderately successful - accompanied by the piano and mixing requests from the club goers with some of her own favorites, the debut generated some buzz in social media, making some positive ripples online and bringing more people to the club.
Slowly, her schedule changed - more time on stage, less at the backstage on cleaning shifts; while she was by no means rich, being remunerated for doing what she truly enjoyed was a dream, and Melissa frequently called home with exciting news. It all seemed to be going well - success at long last, a songstress career possible in the short future, a few dedicated regulars who sometimes brought gifts.
And then it happened - it seemed harmless at first, but one of the guests evolved from an enthusiastic supporter to a persistent stalker. One of the many white-collar workers who had a job in Eastside and came to bars like theirs to relax after work. He had delivered letters and brought presents for Melissa to show how much she had touched him; and while she appreciated the attention, it didnât take long for the woman to realize that he had mistaken her job (and performance) for something else. The singer had no real affection for the corporate executive - but he didnât seem to understand that.
One night, when she was leaving for home, the man came to her - intent on seeing her to his place, to show Melissa just how much they were meant to be together... And alone in the street running behind the club, at such late hours, for a moment the woman really believed herself about to get kidnapped. She screamed - and begged the man to leave her alone if he really, truly loved her. âIf you love someone, youâll let them goâ was a message that was delivered in song, after all.
And mysteriously enough - it worked. Mystified at the fact that the stalker just suddenly heard her pleas and left, it took Melissa a while to realize that she had awakened to an ability and transformed into a Sinner. Perhaps due to the undisclosed number of sinners who lived in Eastside despite the alarms, her own fierce desire to touch otherâs hearts, the sincere belief in love - it was impossible to explain, but the singer indeed came to acquire an ability which put a spell on others.
Mania had granted Melissaâs desires - she was indeed able to touch the hearts of those who listened to her singing; although the potency varied depending on her own mental energy, the preferences of the audience and even the number of people present, the songstress was able to effectively cause those who attended her concerts to fall in love with her. It took trial and error training for the woman to slowly try to get it under control and avoid detection, but eventually she managed to get the gist of everything - thankfully in time to prevent arrests and masquerading the initial effects as some result of her talent on stage earning more fans.
As a result of her power, Melissa made a few changes - she was able to ensure an exclusive position at a respectable jazz club from Eastside, no longer needing to perform other duties but for the singing that pleases her; and there is also an effort to keep some local enforcement members into coming back, and then sweetly asking him to ensure she remains off the radar concerning her identity. But in general terms - her nature is not greedy; having an audience and living her dream is more than enough, and she seeks no bigger-than-life achievements. Knowing that she can really touch the hearts of others and give them something adoring and inspiring fills her with purpose in return - as long as someone is listening, she will never be alone.
Note: At long last, I have a PtN verse for Melissa! I originally had a different idea but scrapped that as it felt too similar to an existing Sinner and instead decided to inspire myself after a private verse with a shared setting. Long story short: in this verse, Melissa awakens as a sinner with the ability to inspire âloveâ in others (I have always relied on Aphrodite aesthetics, after all!), and thus manipulate them to do their bidding.Â
From a PtN perspective, she would be classified as a catalyst sinner, A rank, under the âloveâ alignment and with the âheartstrings manipulationâ ability. It makes her able to charm and influence other peopleâs actions as they feel infatuated with Melissa and willing to do anything for her as a result when she sings to them.Â
The intensity and duration of her ability will depend on certain factors, such as how many people sheâs seeking to charm at once, whether or not she is also their type (physically speaking) and the boost it can give her powers, her own energy levels and how frequently she sees them. Itâs easier for Melissa to keep someone under her âcontrolâ if they keep coming see her perform (and that is something she tries to guarantee for important cases - namely people who can keep her identity hidden from the authorities), otherwise her ability will fade away and the individual will return to their normal mental state and able to do as they please.
Although the verse does not further elaborate on her detainment situation, it would easy for her to be caught as soon as people erasing her from the system stopped doing so; her mania is considerable stable and she has a good mental state with almost no corruption traces and would not likely resist arrest - or collaboration with the MBCC, once she understands what the Chief is really trying to do with the Sinners.
#ooc!#new verse#v: Path to Nowhere#I've finished the ultimate crossover#I've given Eirene a FFVII verse#and a PtN one to Melissa#my work here is done 8)
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âđ„đźđŹđâ
in which you slowly give into your desires.
PAIRING: maid!zenin maki x f!housewife!reader
GENRE: smut, some fluff, some angst, slowburn (ish)
WORD COUNT: 5.6k
WARNINGS: nsfw, 16+ smut, slowburn ish?, mentioned misogyny, infidelity, unhappy arranged marriage, angsty marriage, overstimulation, fingering, oral (f receiving), kitchen sex, sex in shared bed, face sitting/riding, 69, exhibitionism, squirting, light degradation, praise, pussy slapping, finger sucking, spit kink, consensual panty stealing, masturbation (f), first time for oral, slight corruption, implied dumbification, dom!maki. slight mommy kink, humiliation (kind of)
âI love you.â
âLove you, too, Honey.â
You peck your husband on the lips goodbye before heâs out the door with a briefcase in hand and his suit as neat as ever. Staring at the leftovers, you sigh before eventually picking up the plates and pilling them in the sink, scrubbing off the sticky mess of maple syrup. Soap suds cover up your gloves as you lather them in bubbly water and plan out the rest of your day. The dishes, the laundry, a few episodes of that one show you barely pay attention to, lunch, more dishes, more laundry, a start on dinner.
You canât help but wonder â Is this it?
You love your husband, something you remind yourself repeatedly when heâs gobbling down on the rice on his dinner plate and when heâs leaving his dirty clothes all over your bedroom floor. You love him. You want to bear his children, want to raise them, want to do the chores so that he doesnât. You want to cook, to clean, to do everything for the sake of his pleasure. Itâs what your mother insisted, itâs what she did, and itâs what her mother did. You love your husband.
Is this it?
Twenty years old, a husband with a stable living, something that can suffice for the rest of your life. All you need is to do your chores, give him your body, be his prim and proper wife. It sounds fairly easy, another thing that your mother insisted, so what is it?
Why do you crave more? Why do you have to remind yourself that you love him, love this life at all?
Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock on your door. When you open it, youâre met with the sight of a tall girl with glasses. Sheâs in a black maid dress that stops at her knees, complemented by the white apron that flows along with the part of the skirt, ruffling at the end. She has a bag hanging on her shoulder and her expression shows slight amusement at your surprise. Surely, sheâs at the wrong house, right?
âAre you (Y/N)?â
âY-Yes,â you stutter out, not realizing that you were staring, âUh, w-who are you?â
âIâm Zenin Maki, but you can call me Maki,â she observes your figure, noticing the sly nervousness radiating off of your expression, âYour husband hired me. Said he wanted someone to help you out.â
âO-Oh.â
âMay I come in?â
âOf course.â You move to the side, watching the woman scan your house. Itâs slightly messy, a result of your husband not cleaning up after lounging in the living room, and she doesnât waste time to clean it up, rearranging the decorative pillows and helping you carry the leftover dishes to the sink. Just as youâre about to put on your gloves, her hand comes out to grab your wrist and the other takes it out of your hand. âDonât. I got this.â
You step back, watching Maki put on the gloves herself, lathering the dishes as you did before. You donât know what to do, standing there awkwardly as she places them in the dishwasher. Itâs a given opportunity to observe how her skirt stops right above her knee, flowing out naturally and modestly accentuating her body. Her headband compliments the look, her hair tied back with bangs covering up her forehead, stopping short of her glasses. Warmth creeps up your neck to your cheeks and you sharply look away, focusing your vision on the bowl of apples on the center of the dining table.
âYou can rest, Miss. But Iâm going to need help putting away the dishes later. Is that okay?â She asks and you turn around to give her a nod. âIs there anything else you need done?â
âOh, no, itâs okay, you really donât need to-â
âI was hired to help you out with chores. Please, do not worry about me.â
You sigh in defeat, looking directly at her face, her pretty face. She had a sharp expression, piercing eyes that can bore into your soul, defined cheekbones. A sensation of uneasiness rested in your lower belly and you realize youâre staring when she waves a hand over your face. âHello? Miss?â
âS-Sorry! I was just thinking about something!â
âOh. Well, I was just asking if you can help me put some of the dishes away just for today. I donât know where everything is and I donât like disorganization.â
âOf course. Of course.â
âYou need anything else?â
âFolding the laundry, for now, I think? The clothes should be dry. Everything is upstairs.â
She follows behind you as you bring her out to the terrace where your laundry hangs on a string. Dresses, button ups, and ties of earth toned colors adorn the area and you touch the fabrics. The sun had definitely done its job. Maki is already setting up the ironing board that was previously laying in the corner of your bedroom and gathering your husbandâs work attire together. When sheâs done flattening the creases on the pieces of clothing, you take them, hanging and folding. With her help, you were finished in half the time it usually took you.
âThank you, Maki. Really, I appreciate it.â
âYou donât need to thank me, Miss. Your husband hired me to do my job and I am happy to help.â
As you hang your last dress, you give her a smile. Â
â
âHoney, Iâm home!â
Your husbandâs voice sounds throughout the house as heâs met with the sight of you and Maki laying out plating foods and placing them on the dinner table. He smiles and you walk towards him to greet him with a hug and a kiss. Maki continues with the task, sparing a glance at the both of you. âYou didnât tell me you hired a maid,â you whisper to your husband, âThough, she has been very helpful.â
âIâm glad, Honey.â He replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.
âKind of curious as to why you hired one in the first place.â
âIâll tell you later. Letâs have dinner, alright?â He shoots you a grin before looking over to Maki. âFeel free to stay for dinner, Maki!â
âIâm alright. I should get going anywaysââ
âNonsense!â You husband eagerly responds, pulling out an extra chair just for her, âMy dear wife here says youâve been helpful.â
âI have classes.â
âOh. Well you might as well take some home!â You suggest, walking over to your tupperware cabinet.
Before you go back to your husband, you plate some food for her to take home and make sure she makes it back to her car as she walks out the door. You let out an involuntary sigh, leaning against the doorway and feeling content that you now have an extra hand.
âSo?â
âSo, what?â
âWhy do we need a maid?â
âSimple,â he grabs your hands from across the table, âI think weâre ready.â
âReady for what?â
âReady to have kids, silly woman!â His laughter booms throughout the entire room, âI mean youâll have to get off birth control and everything, but I think itâs time.â
You laugh nervously as he leans in for a kiss. âHoney, donât take this the wrong way, but I donât know about this.â
âWhat?â He stands up, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, âWhy not?â
âIâm just kind of, uh, scared? I donât know if Iâm ready and we just got married a few months ago, you know?â
âCome on, donât be scared,â he reassures you, kissing your cheek, âI hired Maki to be our maid to lay the stress off of you. I offered her an in-house job, which sheâll be starting next week, just so that you could rest easy while youâre pregnant.â
âIn-house? Is she going to live with us?â
âOf course! Sheâs a college student, so she doesnât mind getting paid and living in a house,â he explains before going back to the topic, âSo please. I want you to have our baby. We can start tonight.â He suggests, wiggling his eyebrows.
âO-Okay.â
â
The next few days, the cycle continues.
Maki comes in the morning, usually just about right before your husband leaves for work, and she helps you throughout the day. Doing dishes, folding clothes, cleaning the bathroom. Most of the time you help her, usually against her will, but it leads to a calm and comforting silence when you work together. Sheâs moving in soon, two days to be exact, and you think itâs time to get to know a little bit about her.
One problem; Sheâs reserved, which intimidates you, and youâre too scared to start a conversation.
Eventually, youâre going to have to break the ice. So you do it as sheâs ironing the clothes and youâre putting them away. You think up a few basic questions, mulling them over as to not make her uncomfortable because you want to get to know her.
âMy husband tells me youâre in university right now. Whatâs your major?â
âSports science.â She replies bluntly, continuing her task.
âOh, cool cool,â you try to figure out a way to continue, but come up blank. Maybe she doesnât want to talk.
âWhat do you do when your husband is not around?â She asks curiously, as if she sensed your desire to hold the conversation.
âChores, usually,â you frown, âSometimes I watch TV, but I wish I was able to do other stuff. I really like painting, too. But I havenât done much of that ever since we got married.â
âOh. Why not?â
âWell, Iâve always wanted to become an artist. Iâve been doing it since I was a kid, but my family wanted stability for me so they introduced me to a family friendâs older son,â you smile, memories of your younger self filling up your head before a sense of sadness falls over your expression, âThey said this would be good for me. And it is. My husband is a good man, I have a roof over my head and dinner on the table everyday, you know. Iâm not complaining,â you pause, reeling out of your own thoughts, âSorry if I just overshared.â
âNo, donât worry about it,â she reassures you, âJust out of curiosity, how old are you?â
âTwenty.â
âThatâs funny, Iâm twenty one.â
âYouâre closer to my age than my husband,â you laugh, folding another white button up before placing it in a drawer, âWe are in very different positions.â
âYes, we are,â she chuckles, âA struggling college student and a cool housewife.â
âWell, I wouldnât say coolââ
âNonsense!â She grumbles, an attempt to mock your husband.
âNonsense!â
âNonsense!â
The both of you laugh and you realize how she seems almost angelic. The look in her eyes that was once piercing and intimidating was soft and heavenly. Her cheeks are flushed red and her smile was alluring. Before you even realize it, a feeling of warmth settles in your lower belly and it gets harder and harder to take your eyes off of her. Her chuckle was music to your ears and youâve internally decided that it was one of your favorite sounds.
â
âGoodnight, Honey.â
He plants a kiss on your sweaty forehead before turning his back towards you, opting to hug a pillow on the side instead. Everything is wet, sticky, and gross, but before you can say anything, your husband is already fast asleep, little snores filling the air of the master bedroom. You lay down for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling in the dark until you gather up the last of your willpower to get up and clean the mess between your legs.
It was an okay night.
Sure, you came, but it was just boring. There was nothing to it, only the huffs and groans and praises from your husband as he lived out his fantasy of finally being able to breed you. Youâre happy to provide him, as long as it makes him happy, because he loves you and you love him. Even if you have to clean up the mess yourself, even if you donât finish, even if that rush of loving emotion that everyone seems to describe never hits you.
Youâre happy.
Thatâs what you tell yourself anyways. Yet, your fingers rub furiously on your clit while the other pumps in and out of your dripping cunt. Youâre close and you pretend that itâs her fingers You pretend that itâs her fingers that youâre clenching around, her mouth leaving soft kisses from your neck down to your exposed breasts. You pretend that youâre tugging on dark hair, asking for more, but when you come down from your high, the ringing in your ears stops suddenly and the snores overtake your hearing once again.
Maki.
Itâs wrong, disgustingly wrong, but thereâs no way to escape her. Not when sheâs in your house in the morning, the afternoon, and the evening. She helps with everything, things that you didnât even consider yourself, talks to you about the things you like. And you know that her favorite color is black, her family would have much rather preferred if she went the same route you did, and she likes junk food a little too much.
You also wonder when you should tell your husband that you definitely have not gone off those pills.
â
âMiss?â
âYes?â You respond, a grocery bag in your arms filled with different fruits, vegetables, and meat. Although you've made a few additions to your list and you were unsure at first, but as Maki empties it, her eyes light up at the sight of the bright little bag.
âYou got chips?â
âWell, yeah. Theyâre for you. I know you liked them.â
She beams at you and itâs almost blinding. Thereâs an odd flutter in your stomach and you ignore it, but it only becomes stronger when she rips open the bag and munches on the whole thing in seconds. The small satisfied moan from the first bite has you internally celebrating. She looks at peace. All sheâs doing is eating a bag of her favorite chips, yet it fills you with some unexplainable feeling of warmth. You make another mental note to buy even more next time.
â
âWhat do you think of him?â
âWho?â She asks, sitting up on the couch as she watches you get lost on the canvas in front of you.
âMy husband.â
âOh,â she pauses, her hand coming from under her chin to think, âHeâs pretty cool, I guess. He also pays me which is pretty cool, you know.â
âCome on, I wonât tell him,â you insist, coming close, your hands involuntarily brushing over hers. She doesnât pull them away, letting you rest them, enjoying the extra warmth.
âI mean, heâs a man, alright.â
âWhat does that even mean?â
âNo offense,â she continues, finding the least rudest way to say it, âHeâs kind of basic, you know? Which isnât bad but he yells at the TV when watching football, has you light his cigarettes, and waits for you to serve him food. Just your typical husband things, I guess.â
âAre you saying my husband is boring?â You ask with a stoic face, watching the fear fill her eyes.
âNo, no! Thatâs not what Iââ
âKidding,â you chuckle as she purses her lips before joining along, âI was just curious.â
âWell, why?â
âI donât know,â you say, sighing as you think of all the times he did anything romantic for you, âHeâs a good man, you know that, right?â
âWell, of course.â
âHe brings me flowers, gives me goodnight kisses, tells me he loves me, butââ you pause, afraid to finish the thought. Your heart pounds at the mess of ideas on your mind and youâre ashamed, âI donât know if I feel that love thing those people always talk about.â
âWhat do you mean?â
Sheâs intrigued to say the least. Youâre fiddling your thumbs with a nervous smile on your face. All the while, the music you put on fades in the background until itâs only the two of you, hearts beating fast, blood rushing to your cheeks. When you finally look her in the eye, she doesnât miss how glassy they look and thatâs when her suspicions are confirmed without a verbal sentence â youâre unsure.
âHe- Well, I donât know. Forget I said anything about it,â you clasp your hands together before getting back to work in the kitchen, âAnd please, donât tell him.â
Uncertainty, youâre most definitely full of it, but Maki is almost sure sheâs figured it out before you have and she likes to think that sheâs gotten to know you. Sheâs picked up how you play with your fingers when youâre unsure, how you smooth down your dress when you try to keep your composure, how that your smile loses genuinity while youâre at the dinner table. She decides itâs not her business, sheâs only the housemaid and youâre just the housewife she works under.
But sheâll always be there for you with open arms if you need it.
â
âWe gotta make breakfast, Maki.â You poke her side, waking her up from a deep sleep.
Youâre already ready for the day, the top half of your hair already tied in a bun and a lilac colored dress adorning your figure. Sheâs caught off guard when she opens her eyes and youâre sitting up on the side of the bed poking at her hip. Her vision is blurry without her glasses, but she can clearly smell the sweet scent of vanilla perfume. Taking in a deep breath, she sits up, too, reaching for her glasses on the bedside table.
And her sleek, black hair cascades down her shoulders, though itâs slightly messy, youâre tempted to run your fingers through the soft looking strands. Youâve seen Maki in her maid uniform at home, jeans when she goes out to shop, but the sight of her in a satin night dress was different and your breath hitches when the blanket falls off the upper half of her body. Itâs a loose fit and she looks absolutely ethereal, almost like an angel.
She turns her head to the side and you fake cough, trying to make up for staring a little too long. âI know your day doesnât start yet, but I was hoping to get some help on breakfast today. Is that alright with you?â
âOf course, Miss. Iâll go get ready right now.
âCool.â
You walk down to the kitchen, preparing a pie crust for your quiche and reading through the recipe you were given by a friend. By the time you blind bake the crust, Maki joins you in her usual attire. âNeed anything, Miss?â
âWhile the quiche is baking, I just need you to make some cookie dough. Just the usual, my family is coming over later.â
âOf course.â
She gets to work right away, finding the ingredients immediately as you fill up your empty pie crust and dance around the kitchen. Right after the quiche is placed in the oven, your hips sway along with the music that plays in the radio. Itâs all soft and slow, Maki smiling at your antics while you jokingly attempt to serenade her. Sheâs mixing in the chocolate chips into the dough and you walk forward, energetic and lost in the song.
You donât think much of it when you grab her hip and your faces come closer together. One second, you were playfully dancing around your kitchen and the next, your breaths mingle, the gap between the two of you closing. Itâs her who decides to lean forward, soft lips meeting together, your back suddenly meeting the edge of the counter. Her hands rest on the surface, each on either side of you, and her lips taste like cherries. Your hands come up to her cheeks as your mouths meld together until itâs hard to breathe.
You pull away first, remembering that your husband is still sleeping upstairs. âWhat are we doing?â
âDonât know,â she replies, her hand starting to trail under the skirt of your dress, âIt feels right, though.â
âShould we stop?â You mutter, just barely enough for her to hear.
âDo you want to?â
âNo.â
It gives her the extra rush of courage to get under your dress and push your body until your back is flat on the counter. Luckily, there was nothing underneath except for a pair of plain black panties, a damp spot right in the middle. Her thumb presses on your clothed clit and by the way your body squirms she knows youâre sensitive which only adds to the sadistic fun of pulling down your underwear at an agonizingly slow pace. âNeed you,â you breathe out, your legs being positioned on her shoulders, âI need you, please.â
âI got you, Baby. Donât worry.â She replies with a smile, her breath hitting your wet cunt.
Your breath hitches as her tongue trails up from your hole up to your sensitive pearl and she moans at the sweet taste of your arousal. Her hands keep a firm grip on your thighs, holding them open as you bite your lip to contain your moans. Heâs right upstairs, you think, but any thought of caution starts to leave you once her soft lips wrap around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves causing your knuckles to turn white as they grab onto the edge of the counter.
Your husband has never touched you like this. Ever.
The feeling of her mouth is foreign, but welcome. Before you know it, the grip on one of your thighs loosen and two fingers slip into your soaked cunt. Sheâs gentle at first, the pumps of her digits ever so delicately pressing against your g spot, but once you hike up the skirt of your dress and thread your fingers through her hair, she speeds up, hitting hard and fast. âM-Makiâ Shit!â
You squeal when her tongue starts massaging your clit and your walls clench despite being empty, âSuch a pretty girl,â she coos, watching in awe at how your slick coats her fingers, âSuch a pretty pussy.â
Lewd praises and squelches fill the kitchen air as the coil in your stomach builds and snaps until your cunt is gushing all over her. Your back arches as you reach your high and she leaves a trail of kisses from your thigh to your sopping pussy. Bringing her fingers to your mouth, she gives you one command.
âSuck.â
You obey, wrapping your soft lips around her digits, swirling your tongue and she gives a graceful smile, brushing a thumb over your flushed cheeks. A sheen of sweat covers your forehead, but the sound of footsteps brings you out of your thoughts. Maki pockets your underwear, giving you a wink, before washing her hands and taking the nearly forgotten quiche out of the oven.
By the time you hear the footsteps of your husband, youâre decent, minimal signs of physical exertion just barely noticeable. Sheâs going through her usual routine of plating your food in front of the two of you, doing the dishes, laundry, everything. You want to say something, you really do, and youâre left with your own questions.
At night, youâre left pondering the strong women with silky black hair whilst in the arms of your husband.
â
Two days.
Thatâs how long itâs been since youâve gotten the most mind blowing orgasm of your life. Your panties are still missing, though you donât mind knowing who has them. And when you think about the things your mother has told you repeatedly about your perfectly structured life, it crumbles with each second. When you look at the face next to you, the indifference in your heart starts to become more and more prominent.
And even though you should feel guilty â well, you do â you also donât regret it at all.
You still do your chores as expected, make the bed, cook dinner. You still organize the laundry, do the dishes, and tend to your rose garden. You still disinfect, fold, and have sex with your husband whoâs indifferent to your pleasure every night. Almost every domestic activity was accompanied by Maki, who often sought to take over or help.
Yet, she wouldnât even look at you.
She wouldnât say anything that didnât pertain to a grocery list or a command and it was infuriating. Still, you were determined to bring it up â how could you not? As you fold blankets on the couch and think, you call out her name. âMaki?â
âYes, Miss?â
âAre we going to talk about what happened?â
âWhat do you mean?â
Your heart drops a tiny bit, it was an expected response based on the fact it felt like she was avoiding you, but you still had to swallow the lump in your throat. âNevermind. Iâm sorry.â
âWhy are you apologizing?â She asks as youâre looking down on the rug, trying to focus on the pattern instead of the woman in front of you.
âIâm just sorry I brought it up. Iâm sorry that I made you uncomfortable. Iâm sorry that we did whatever that was,â you take a deep breath as forming tears blurred your vision, âIâm sorry that I canât fucking do this, Maki. I donât love him. I canât love him.â
She sighs, scooching forward and closer to you then pulling the half folded blanket from your hands. âYou shouldnât be sorry. This was my fault.â
âYou donât understand.â
âTry me.â
âYouâre just, Iâm justââ you inhale again, trying to find the right words to say, âYouâre different. Youâre different from him in all the best ways. You listen to what I have to say, you care about how I feel.â
âThatâs something that any good friend would doââ
âI donât want to be your friend.â
âOh.â
She brings her fingers to your chin, nudging your head up until youâre looking her in the eyes for the first time in days. She gazes at you, appreciating every curve and every mark on your skin. You take this as an opportunity to lean in, planting a soft kiss on her lips. She doesnât stop it, instead indulging in the act, cupping your cheeks.
It soon becomes hungry, her tongue slipping past your lips, you being rolled over onto your back as she slips her hand under your floral dress. She presses a finger against your clothed cunt, causing you to gasp and throw your head back. At the same time she leaves sloppy kisses on the exposed skin of your neck and you struggle to form a coherent sentence.
âM-Maki, stop,â you whimper and she pauses, âWanna make you feel good.â
âOh?â She smirks, giving you another breathless kiss, âWanna put that mouth to use, Baby?â
âYeah,â you breath out, âWanna make you feel good, Mommy.â
Her expression is filled with pride as she drags her fingers across your face and into your mouth. You comply with the silent command, wrapping your lips around the digits and sucking softly, swirling your tongue around them. âGood girl.â
You let out a hum while she discards her panties somewhere on the ground and her bare cunt hovers over your face. Itâs intimidating, yet the sight of her glistening folds makes you wet. All you wanted to do was taste her, drink up all of her juices, and when you finally do you canât get enough. Despite the lack of experience, you do what you think would feel good, giving experimental licks, noting when her body twitched and when she would let out a saccharine moan.
âFuck â youâre doing so well,â she coos, carding her fingers through your hair, admiring the sight of your half lidded eyes and the feel of your tongue, âYou sure this is your first time eating pussy?â
You hum in response which sends vibrations throughout her body, causing her to throw her head back. You grip onto her lower back, desperately bringing her wet cunny closer to yourself and she rolls her hips, grinding herself on your mouth. Youâre already addicted, lapping at all of the cum she has to offer, watching intently as her mouth forms an o shape and she soaks the lower half of your face.
âSuch a good fucking girl, arenât you?â
She gets off your face and you smile with pride, tugging off the rest of her maid uniform until sheâs completely bare in your living room. Every curve of her body fills you with even more lust and youâre sure your panties are soaked just from the sight. Her thighs are defined, muscular even, and you kiss them before going back to her ruined pussy, lapping at all the slick.
âYouâre so pretty, Maki,â you utter, your breath hitting her neck as you come back up to her face.
She pushes you backward until youâre flat on your back, pinning your wrists together before ripping off your panties. Maki wastes no time, two fingers entering your hole and curling with every thrust. âYou got this wet from eating me out?â She questions cockily, leaving an open mouthed kiss on the shell of your ear along with a nibble, âYouâre a cute little thing, arenât you?â
âYeah,â you whimper in between breaths, âFeels sâgood.â
âYeah?â She responds, watching you come undone underneath her.
Your orgasm builds up with every pump, the coil in your stomach tightening. She fastens the pace, every movement being calculated, her fingers knuckles deep in your cunt. Her fingertips manage to brutally hit the spongy spot inside of you, causing your legs to shake. Your back arches when her lips wrap around your clit, the simultaneous stimulation making your body tremble in delight. Youâre gushing all over her fingers and she stares in awe as your slick drips down your thighs.
âCan we go to the bedroom?â You request meekly, barely recovering from your last orgasm.
âOf course, Baby,â she beams at you, body gleaming with a sheen of sweat, your heart fluttering in your chest.
Maki picks you up bridal style with almost no effort, pressing kisses all over your face on the way upstairs. When you finally get to the bedroom, she lays you down gently, almost as if you were a delicate piece of glass. But the moment of soft intimacy doesnât last.
It doesnât last when her pussy hovers over your face with her head buried in between your legs, licking hot stripes on your folds, sucking on your pearl while her fingers brush on your legs before finding their way back to your ruined cunt. Your tongue presses on her slit and her hips lower until your mouth is full of pussy. Her sweet taste is addicting and concurrent moans only heighten the pleasure, vibrations shooting through both of your bodies. Her thumb circles your clit furiously as she pulls away from your cunt to speak.
âYou like this, donât you? Ainât this the same bed where you get fucked by your husband?â She questions demandingly, slapping your cunny.
You whine into her cunt, the sudden pain causing your walls to clamp around nothing. She laughs sadistically, pinching your clit, biting at your inner thighs.
âSâgood, such a good little slut,â she coos, her nose tickling your clit as her face inches closer, âBet you like getting fucked by your maid, donât you?â
You can only respond with a squeal, her hand laying another blow to your aching pussy. âDonât worry, pretty girl. I got you.â She reassures you, mouth ravaging your cunt, slurping every drop of cum you had to offer. Sheâs close to her own orgasm, you can tell by the way she rides your face, soaking the lower half until the sweet droplets slide down your neck. You massage her clit with your tongue as she comes down from her high, but after yours, she doesnât stop.
Instead, she continues to feast on your cunt like a starved woman, the pressure in your stomach building for the nth time that day. Coming again almost hurts, but she ignores the high pitched wails spilling from your lips, the sounds only encouraging her to keep sucking until your body trembles. At this point, youâre light headed, vision gradually becoming blurry. Your walls are pulsating, your mind is unable to process everything at once.
Especially the shocked man who stands in the doorway of your bedroom.
And at that exact moment, you let out a sob as Maki sadistically looks your husband right in the eye, her mouth still devouring your overstimulated cunny with fervor. Your hole leaks milky white, staining your shared sheets and you cry out her name, hopelessly gripping onto the plush of her ass for stability, digging your nails into the flesh. When she pulls away, a string of spit connects from her mouth to your pearl and her pupils are blown, cheeks covered with your arousal, all the while maintaining eye contact with him.
As if there was no one in the room, she readjusts her until her face hovers over yours, her swollen pussy present on your thigh.
âOpen.â
You comply readily and she grabs your face with one hand, squishing your wet cheeks so hard that they start to ache.
âGood girl.â
She spews into your mouth, watching the blob as it glides down your tongue and you swallow obediently before she comes down for a sweet kiss. The taste of yourself makes your head dizzy with lust. Let it be known that the horrified figure standing in the doorway could never make you feel as good as the maid. Â
Oops.
© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my work on other platforms.
#maki zenin x reader#zenin maki x reader#maki x reader#zen'in maki x reader#maki zen'in x reader#maki zenin smut#zenin maki smut#maki smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fics#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen fics#maki zenin x you#zenin maki x you#tw.spit#tw.infidelity#tw.exhibitionism#tw.69#tw.oral#tw.mommy kink#tw.unhappy marriage#đ.wap!#đ.works!#đ.zenin maki!#đ.horny!
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PART 5. THE INHERENT EROTICISM OF BUTTONING SOMEONEâS CLOTHES
SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his fatherâs enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldnât mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.
PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader
WORD COUNT. 3.0k
GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut
WARNINGS. sexual tension !! and umm sexual frustration ;p, not explicit but prob rated 16+, just read the title of this chapter BAHAHA
A/N. sorry this is coming a little later than planned ! :( but i hope the dressing room scene can make up for it u.u tysm for reading and for all the feedback! enjoy :3 xx sof
SERIES MASTERLIST
© myherowritings â all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.
What were you supposed to wear to a shopping date? you asked yourself. Not that today was a date or anything. Though maybe you sort of wished it wereâŠÂ
The Naruhata Charity Gala was in a little over a week and Shouto would be coming over to pick you up in less than one hour and you still sat in your room with nothing but a towel on feeling more and more hopeless.Â
It was a strange dilemma. He met you in your work apron wearing an unflattering work shirt and work pants. And when you met up over the weekend previously, you never paid too much mind on what you would wear. In fact, you were positive he wouldnât even care how you looked. So why was it such a big deal to you now?Â
Probably because of your recent admission of your growing feelings towards him, you thought crossly.Â
In your defense, it wasnât like it was your fault! Right? Seeing someone everyday⊠Wanting to see someone everyday⊠Texting regularly about the most random things, having the most banal objects you saw throughout the day remind you of something Shouto did or said⊠With all those occurrences it wouldâve been practically impossible to not start crushing on him!Â
Time passed as you stared at your ceiling blankly. If you kept this up, he was bound to show up in your house and find you half-naked. (Now that you mentioned it, that didnât sound like the worst idea. But it wasnât something youâd randomly spring upon someone.)
âGet up, Y/N!â you scolded yourself, rolling off your bed and heading towards your closet.Â
In the end, you ended up settling for another variation of your usual go-to outfit and called it a day. It happened to be perfect timing since, by the time you finished getting ready, you got a new message on your phone.Â
Shouto: Parked in front of your place
Shouto: Sorry Iâm a little early. You can take your time getting ready :)
Y/N: itâs okay iâm ready now!!Â
After hitting send, you put your shoes on, gathering your belongings you wanted to bring with you, and headed out the door. Excited to hang out with Shouto again, you walked with a skip in your step down the path until you reached his car.Â
âHi!â You waved through his half-opened, tinted window. To no oneâs surprise, his car was a sleek black color with dark, tinted windows, and gold details along the sides. If it didnât look so oddly sexy you wouldâve laughed at how cutely dorky he was for matching his car with his credit card. âThis is one hot car.â
He turned his head to the side when you entered the passengerâs seat. âShould I turn the AC higher?âÂ
âHuhâ Oh!â You stifled a giggle when you processed the pun he made. âYouâre funny, Shouto.âÂ
He only looked a little confused. âThank you.âÂ
The interior of his car was no lessâfor lack of better termâsexy than the outside. Leather seats, a large screen for the radio and carplay, and the dashboard and side doors lit up a nice blue color.Â
âPretty!â you complimented, poking at the colorful light.
âWant to pick a color?âÂ
Your eyes widened. âIt can change colors?!âÂ
Shouto nodded.
âCan it be pink?â you asked intently.Â
âLight pink or hot pink?â
âLight.â
He swiftly obliged and with a hit of a touchscreen button, the interior lighting changed from blue to pastel pink.Â
âGreen!â
It turned green.
âOrange!â
Cue the orange.Â
âPurple?âÂ
Purple.Â
Once you were thoroughly satisfied with Shouto showing you the whole color selection (you were almost embarrassed to admit it kept you entertained for a good ten minutes), you settled on a bright turquoise that reminded you of the color of his left eye.Â
âOoh, this color! My favorite,â you said simply, giving him a wide smile.Â
A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he developed a sudden interest in adjusting his rearview mirror. âHm.â
Shouto drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, occasionally asking how your week was outside of work and what type of outfit you wanted to wear so he could have a better idea on where to take you.Â
âDid you eat?â he suddenly asked when he hit the next stoplight, one hand holding the wheel and the other resting comfortably on the gear shift.Â
His hands looked nice and slender and soft to the touch. Pretty hands, you thought but shook yourself out of it because you could go down a rabbit hole of examining his hands and going into detail about them.Â
You remembered the single, measly granola bar you had due to your rush getting ready. âI didnât really eat yet, no. Did you?â
He shook his head and pulled into a food plaza with lots of stores to choose from. The two of you agreed on a noodle restaurant that apparently had some of the best cold soba (once you learned it was his favorite food, you wanted to be able to have some with him and today was the perfect opportunity to do just that) and promptly headed to the location.Â
In the shop, a waiter sat the two of you down at a dimly lit booth with the perfect amount of ambience that if someone were to casually look over, they might even mistake this outing as a date.Â
You grinned at the thought.Â
âExcited for the soba?â asked Shouto, examining the smile on your face thoughtfully.Â
Thatâs not why you were smiling, but it was close enough. âMhm. And the udon. You can never go wrong with noodles!âÂ
Yes, you got both udon and soba. But in your defense, where else would the fun in life be if not in sugary sweets and carbs?Â
As the two of you waited for your main dishes, you ate some fish cakes and edamame while talking about the ways in which capitalism could be dismantled. Rather sexy of him, if you did say so yourself.Â
Before you knew it, you were done with your meal and headed back into his car to go fancy-people shopping. On the remainder of the ride, you asked yourself what color you should pick that would match well with both you and Shouto. After all, nothing said a cute couple who totally liked each other going on a totally real date to a gala like color-coordinated outfits, right?
He parked in front of a street of buildings with a dark glass reaching from ceiling to floor with security guards at the door. Just standing near it made you feel fancy.Â
âThis is a place my sister told me she liked,â he said, leading you to the store front with his hand on the small of your back to guide you. âI hope youâll find something to your liking.â
You tried your best not to pay too much attention to the warmth you felt both on your back and your stomach from the fuzzy feelings that spread.Â
âHello, welcome!â the both of you were greeted as you walked through the doors. The interior of the store was lined with designer dresses, some long, some short, and all incredibly stunning. There were only a few other patrons in the store, but all of them looked so elegant as they tried on their dresses. âItâs so lovely to see you again Mr. Todoroki.â
Shouto nodded subtly. âHello. This is Y/N, my date to the gala whoâll need your assistance today.â
âHi!â you chimed in at his cue. âNice to meet you.âÂ
The worker smiled and made her way over to you. âAnd you as well. Iâm Masuda and Iâll do my best to make sure you leave the store satisfied with your purchase! Did you have a particular style or perhaps color in mind?â
âUmm,â you said sheepishly, looking around the wide variety of clothings and unsure where to start. âIâm not too sure. Itâs my first time going to one of these things so maybe something comfortable, but also still...fancy?â You scratched the back of your neck. âDoes that even exist?â
âOf courseâ Just have to find something that feels comfortable to you.â She told you to hold on one moment as she disappear into the rows of fabric.Â
As Masuda collected some starter dresses for you to try on, a customer walked by with bags of clothes in her hands, her gaze lingering on Shouto, though neither of you paid her much mind.Â
âIn this setting, you look almost fit to be a sugar daddy,â you said jokingly, looking around in awe at the sophisticated yet lavish dresses. âYou take all your sugar babies here?â
âOnly the ones I really like,â he teased back. His voice was deadpan but there was the telltale hints of a smirk on his face to let you know he was only messing with you.
The door chimed to signal that a customer left and by then Masuda had returned with bundles of fabric draped on her arm. She led you away in a hurry and you hesitantly looked back at Shouto who followed in a safe distance. Seeing your moment of panic, he gave you an encouraging smile that somehow was enough to ease a significant fraction of your nerves. This may be new and confusing territory, but at least he was here to help you through it.Â
Masuda set a dressing room up for youâit was one of those rooms in the middle of the store with curtains that reached the ceiling and mirrors all aroundâand placed a bunch of outfits she thought would suit your taste. It reminded you of when a bride would go wedding dress shopping with their family. When you had enough outfits for the first round, she told Shouto to sit down on a leather seat in front of your dressing room while he waited for you to try the different dresses on.Â
In a way, it felt oddly intimate: Shouto sitting just a few feet in front of you as you undressed, only separated by the veil of a curtain. Would he offer to help button the back of your dress up, fingers brushing against your bare skin? The thought made you feel almost hot inside as you changed out of your street clothes and into the first dress.Â
Unfortunately for you, this dress had no such difficult buttons to reach.Â
âHowâs it look?â you asked shyly as you emerged from the dressing room.Â
The dress was pretty and didnât feel uncomfortable to walk in, but there wasnât any sort of attachment you felt towards it. In other words, it was simply...meh.Â
Shouto looked up from his phone to take in the sight of you. He smiled. âYou look amazing as always.âÂ
âYou think so?â You spun around and curtseyed jokingly and he chuckled. âI donât think itâs bad, but Iâm not sure if itâs the right one.âÂ
âWeâll be here until you find the right one you want, then. Take your time, Y/N.âÂ
His voice was normally on the deeper side, but it sounded even more sensual and gravelly at this very moment. You felt goosebumps on your arms and it wasnât just because of the sleeveless dress you currently had on.Â
âT-Thanks, Shouto,â you murmured, turning around and walking back into the changing room to hide the look on your face. You didnât even know what kind of look you had on your face, but you knew it was one that might give too much away.Â
It wasnât fair that he had to be so sweet and caring and thoughtful and handsome and rich⊠Most guys you met barely fit into one of those criteria, let alone all five. (Sure, the last two werenât necessary in your opinion, but you couldnât deny they were a nice bonus.) It was too bad you had no clue how he felt about you.Â
There were moments where he felt flirty and teasing, like maybe he viewed you in a more-than-friends way. But other times he was so polite and proper and you couldnât help but wonder if he was just being nice because thatâs simply the sort of person he was to everyone.Â
While you were trying to sort through all your thoughts, you completely forgot to change into a new dress the whole time you were in here.Â
You saw a shadow at the floor of the curtain before a voice said, âY/N? Are you okay in there?âÂ
Jumping at the sound, you scurried to put the next dress on, a blue one with almost translucent fabric and a delicate neckline. Judging from the proximity of Shoutoâs voice and the shadow of his shoes, he was right next to you as you changed.Â
âIâm okay!â you managed, hoping you didnât sound as wobbly as you felt. You held the dress closed at the back, fumbling with the fastens. âI just, ah, needed help buttoning this one up.âÂ
A light ruffle on the curtain then a pause. âShould I...come in and help?âÂ
Your eyes widened, not expecting him to actually offer to button it up like you fantasized earlier. You fully thought he might called the worker to aide you just so he wouldnât risk making you uncomfortable. (Not that he wouldâve. At all.)Â
âI apologize,â he said somewhat tensely after you didnât respond. âThat was indecent of meââ
âNo, no!â you said profusely, poking your head out of the curtain while holding the fabric at the front of your dress to your chest. You tilted your chin to meet his gaze with a determined one of your own. âIâd love your help, Shouto.âÂ
With a dusting of pink coloring his cheeks, he nodded and entered your dressing room. âThis dress is a nice color on you.â His voice was loud against the silence.Â
Shouto ran his hand down the length of your spine and then up to unfold the column of buttons on your dress that curved inwards at your movement, his knuckles grazing against your skin like lightning striking water. You jolted at the sudden feeling but he didnât remove his touch when he felt it.
âSorry.â His voice was low, almost like a whisper. âWas just getting the buttons out.â
âN-No worries!â
His fingers began working on the bottom-most button at your lower back as he applied a steady pressure on the base of your spine to control the motion. Shouto slowly began his way up, fingertips cold to the touch. But you knew that wasnât the only reason you felt yourself shiver. As he fastened the dainty buttons with immense concentration (much more concentration than was actually needed to fasten buttons, you were sure), you felt the heat of his breath tickling the back of your neck. You almost couldnât keep yourself from arching your back in a mixture of anticipation and delight at his constant touch.Â
When he finished the last button, Shouto let one hand rest on your hip, grasping the fabric between his fingertips to examine its silken texture. Your breath caught in your throat as you stepped back and bumped into his chest, but he was already there to steady you.Â
With his arm on your waist and your back leaning against his chest, you made eye contact through the mirror in front of you. You werenât sure if the pounding you felt was from your heart or his or a combination of both.Â
There was something almost erotic about holding each othersâ gaze in the mirror after Shouto just helped you dress, the two of you still not letting the other go despite the task being complete.Â
âThe dress⊠You look gorgeous,â he said, not taking his eyes off you for one moment.Â
You nodded slowly. It did look amazing on you. And it was breathable and soft. (Plus, Shouto liked it, which made you happier than youâd care to admit.) âThe only downside would be I need help getting into it.â
âWe could get ready together so itâs no issue.âÂ
âIâd...also need help getting out of it.âÂ
You held your breath as his eyes darkened, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly in a way that made you curve your back before you remembered you were flush against Shouto and he could feel even the most subtle of movements coming from your body. But by the time you stopped yourself, it was too late. He already felt it and you wanted more.
His voice was hoarse. âI could help you with that too.â
Instead of beginning to unbutton the dress like part of you thought he would, he surprised you by spinning you around to face him, your shoulder blades pressed against the cool glass of the mirror and your palms lingering on the muscles of his warm chest. The contrast of the cold glass and Shoutoâs body heat left a shiver down your spine.
âAnd how do you plan to help take off my dress when you canât even see the buttons?â you said challengingly, a smirk on your face despite knowing full well your body was showcasing just how affected you were by this situation. By Shouto.
He tilted his head to the side in response to your daring tone, hands swiftly finding their way to your back and unbuttoning the top five buttons. It wasnât enough to completely expose your breasts, but it was enough to loosen the fabric at the neckline in a way that made you gasp.Â
âSeems doable to me,â he commented.Â
You tugged him down slightly by the collar of his shirt. âI donât quite believe you. Maybe you should prove it.âÂ
A guttural noise sounded from the back of his throat as he cupped your jaw and leaned in closer. You inched forward, eager to meet his lips. But before they could touch, a knock came from the wall next to the curtain, causing the two of you to freeze in your spots, bodies pressed against each other in an intimate flush.
âHello, Y/N?â said Masuda cheerfully, blissfully ignorant about what was about to happen in a public dressing room in the middle of the store. âHow are the dresses coming along? Did you like any?â
âAh, actuallyâŠâ you trailed off, exchanging frustrated but amused glances with Shouto. âI think weâll take this one.â
a/n: so...mirror sex/sex in a dressing room as a bonus chapter? u.u why yes of course. iâm one step ahead; did u even have to ask? LMAO and hm i wonder if y/nâs fEeLiNGs~ are reciprocated skfkfkdg ALSO THEY WERE SO CLOSE TO KISSING BUT DIDNâT I CRY hopefully the wait will be worth it ;3
what to expect in the next part:
GALA TIMEEEE
yes y/n finally gets the fancy candy they so desired
we get to see shoutoâs sexy penthouse
shouto says eat the rich >:c
#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bnha#mha#bnha imagines#bnha fanfiction#mha imagines#mha fanfiction#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#todoroki shouto#todoroki shouto x reader#todoroki shoto x reader#todoroki x reader#shouto x reader#shoto x reader#todoroki shoto#bnha scenarios#mha scenarios#todoroki imagines#bnha todoroki#bnha fluff#bnha x you#bnha x y/n#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki
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hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, itâs been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentineâs Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, iâll make it as canon as it can be :â) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully thatâs okay too,, and sorry for this being late hahaâi wrote this very late at night so donât mind any typos you find please)
much love,
~ anemo-chan <3
(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentineâs Day (Romantically)
super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.
Diluc
He is nervous. Heâs never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldnât hurt to go traditional, so thatâs what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Floraâs shop was not open at the timeâyeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinnerâwhich he makes!
Lisa
She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit downâthe two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,
Tartaglia
Oh boy. Itâs always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or twoâhave a storeâs entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After youâre done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesnât have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.
Zhongli
Over the years, heâs witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year heâs wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentineâs Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. Heâs even made sure to have his wallet on him at all timesâit would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Yingâerâs shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?
surprises you with homemade sweets.
Fischl
Oh, she is so nervousâof course, she doesnât show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for youâshe even sent Oz to the nearby farms to âborrowâ the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who âborrowedâ their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. Sheâs too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.
Ganyu
Even though sheâs quite busy, sheâs somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. Sheâs quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her itâs the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.
Keqing
Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but theyâre a bit...messy. Nonetheless, theyâre tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.
Mona
Somehow, sheâs managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at thatânone of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. Sheâs quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)
Noelle
One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? Theyâre frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, âHappy Valentineâs Day, Y/Nâ, written neatly with chocolate syrupâitâs quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!
Xiangling
The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smellâsomething burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, itâs the thought that counts, doesnât it?
buys/makes a present for you.
Albedo
Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, heâll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucroseâs dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.
Amber
Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only thatâthey were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastestâspoiler alert: she did.
Barbara
Oh, she would make the cutest card for youâthe envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; thereâs nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Saraâhowever, what she didnât know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you choseâand boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.
Chongyun
Heâs real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, donât judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and suchâalthough itâs quite the simple gift, heâs put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; itâs all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work thatâs he put in.
Ningguang
She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something youâve mentioned while talking to herâon the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)
Razor
He doesnât have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if heâs planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching braceletsâtheyâre not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. Heâs quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.
Sucrose
At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isnât sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for youâshe is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesnât help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, sheâs quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)
whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.
Beidou
Itâs ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that youâll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)
Bennett
He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yesâhe knows that itâs not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures itâs just as important. Besides, theyâve been asking about you for quite a whileâthey even set up a small party within the Adventurerâs Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennettâs childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but heâs still happy either way; after all, heâs with the most important people to him.)
Kaeya
He quite literally kidnaps you; one second youâre walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesnât care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to doâafter all, Valentineâs Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesnât take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didnât get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!
Venti
You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. Youâre then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where heâs prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you donât need to pay.)
Xingqiu
While heâs not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentineâs Day; after all, thatâs what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook inâand you donât find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you werenât (you were) looking. Again, itâs the thought that countsâ
doesnât celebrate Valentineâs Day.
Jean
Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. Sheâs too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. Itâs not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotionâshe immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond thatâs itâs okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.
Xiao
âI do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.â He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that itâs Valentineâs Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. Heâs irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object youâre hiding behind your back tightensâhe only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how youâll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesnât celebrate the holiday doesnât mean he canât get jealous!)
#anemo-writes#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact imagines#THE WAY THIS IS A DAY LATE#can you tell that iâve never written for zhongli before :â)#bennettâs is my favorite i almost cried while writing it because it was so wholesome#diluc x reader#Childe x reader#zhongli x reader#chongyun x reader#razor x reader
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Brightest Blue (series)
PART FIFTEEN (final chapter)
Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings: 18+ ONLY, sexual content, alcohol, feelings Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: What an odd feeling this is. I love writing fics, but when you work so long and hard on something, itâs hard to let it go. Iâm really pleased with how it turned out though, and Iâm so incredibly grateful to everyone that read it and interacted with it. A big thank you to my editor, @lantern-inthenightâ for sticking with me through it, and thank you again to everyone on my taglist.Â
MASTERPOST
taglist: @valleyd0llâ @satingrass-maidensfairâ @guitarfingersâ @thebohemianpenguinâ @peaceisouranthemâ @oblvionsâ @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96â @anditsmywholeheartâ @kill-fear-the-power-of-liesâ @bigblack-catattackââ Â @dharma-divineâ
There was a plant in the Kiszka house that you couldnât stop looking at - you found yourself making your way to the kitchen, just so you could peek in on it. It was a Christmas cactus placed on the south-facing window sill above the sink, spilling out of the sides of its terra cotta pot in long tendrils.Â
Shapely, dark green, and perfectly healthy - it was the perfect metaphor for the household that loved it. The fuchsia pink buds on the tips of every trailing vine were promising to open every day since youâd arrived, and - perfectly on queue - the first one opened on Christmas Eve. It had been tightly closed when you greeted it in the morning as you sipped your cup of coffee, but by the time the family was snacking on a veggie tray and cocktail weenies at lunchtime, it was fully open, facing the floor in a way that reminded you of a ballerinaâs tutu.Â
âYou like this thing, huh?â Josh had asked, audible to just you over the lively conversation and music filling the kitchen and dining room. He was standing closely behind your right shoulder, charmingly trying to get the same view of the cactus that you were - as if that could help him appreciate it better.Â
âIsnât it lovely?â you replied, turning your head and realizing at the same time that you could kiss his cheek if you leaned in closer. The two of you shared a lingering look that you put an end to just before you could start feeling physically warm.
He hummed in consideration after a moment. âItâs pretty,â he agreed and then smiled weakly. âIt kinda just looks like another plant to me though, if Iâm being honest.â
You turned to face him then, giving him a warm look. âThereâs a lot of beauty to be found in things that other people donât know to consider. It gives you kind of a selfish satisfaction.â
The slightly suggestive tone youâd taken put a puzzled smile on his face. He gave you a look that somehow perfectly let you know that heâd be back to pry at the deeper meaning of this conversation later when you were alone.Â
âWe got this for Christmas for my mom one year when we were little kids. Sam and Ronnie liked the color.â He smiled at it past your shoulder. âIt used to be so tiny.âÂ
It certainly wasnât anymore. As a matter of fact, it was currently threatening to take over the whole sill - swallow up the little knick-knacks peppered around it.Â
âItâs really happy,â you agreed.Â
+++
Dinner that night was photo-worthy. Laid out on the table were dishes upon dishes of different comfort foods, each with its own oversized serving spoon. Jake had been trying to make homemade bread through the entirety of your time there - the first night was his very first time making it and it was a little raw, then the next night it seemed a little hard, then the next it looked a little overcooked and dense. Tonight, however, it looked worthy of a cooking magazine cover.
PERFECT BREAD ON THE SIXTH TRY! it would read triumphantly. Â
No one had a claim on any of the specific spots at the dining table, so it was free game - which was how you were able to finagle your way into sitting between Jake and Sam for that eveningâs meal. You liked them a lot, for the record, but you had been thinking a lot about your earlier interaction with Josh, and that was the reason for your chosen position.Â
You wanted to stare at him without arousing suspicion - or rather, any more suspicion than was already present amongst the six of you.Â
He had given you a questioning look as he sat directly across the table from you, scooting his chair in until he could rest his elbows on the wood. You offered him a reassuring smile as you settled in, but secretly you reveling in the fact itâd seem awfully non-platonic if he questioned your choice out loud.Â
While you ate, he only caught you looking at him once, to which he responded by playfully poking his tongue out at you. Otherwise, you listened intently to a story that Sam was telling you about a fated time he found a designer jacket in a truck stop bathroom and it fit perfectly. You also chatted lightly with Jake - who was sitting to your right - about each of your classes and he graciously listened to you gripe at length about the weather and its lack of consistency, which was obviously very kind of him.
When dinner was over, the family changed into their pajamas before meeting in the living room with their wine to sit around the tree and open one present each of their choosing. It went around in a circle, starting with Josh who received a new cutting board and a set of knives that his mom jokingly assured him he couldnât have until he was ready to go back to Ann Arbor. You were unabashedly visibly excited to be able to use a knife that could cut without having to use a sawing motion.
Jake had unknowingly chosen to open the present you got for him, which was a leather-bound journal and fountain pen that cost more than you wanted to admit but after you saw it at the store, you couldnât stop thinking about it. You had felt incredibly cool while purchasing it, so in a way, it was kind of a gift for you too.Â
The gift you opened was a wool sweater from Joshâs parents and when you lovingly clutched the forest green fabric to your chest, it was a genuine gesture. You reminded them that they didnât have to get you anything, but thanked them profusely when they informed you that you were being silly.
After the designated presents were opened, warm conversation was had as the Rudolph Christmas movie played quietly in the background. It was one of your holiday favorites though, so you probably paid more attention to it than the rest of the family.Â
Once 10 pm hit, there was a sharp rise in the frequency of yawns, and shortly after that people started turning in, one by one. Everyone was wished a good night, knowing that when they woke up again, it would be Christmas.Â
After Jake turned in around 11:30, you and Josh were the last ones standing - or sitting rather.Â
You were sitting next to each other on the sofa, about a foot apart because despite Jake having been privy to your relationship, it was just good practice when any member of his family was around.Â
As soon as Jakeâs bedroom door was closed, Josh seemed to visibly relax his muscles, though his fingers still fidgeted with his jeans every few moments.
âAre you liking being home?â you asked and then took a sip of wine, already knowing what he was going to say.Â
He gave you a low, pained-sounding hum through a grimacing smile. âWe should have just told my family what the nature of our relationship was - I donât think I can handle not touching you much longer.â
 âMâkay, couple things to address here,â you started through an amused smirk. âYou were able to handle not touching me for months - I think you can handle literally one and a half more days. And two-â
He cut you off with a finger against your lips. âYeah, but had I known you wanted me to, it would have made a lot of difference.â
You pressed a kiss to the digit before he quickly pulled it away with an accusatory squint in his eye.Â
âAnd secondly,â you tried again pointedly. âWhat would you have told them? âHey guys, I have very very fuzzy boundaries with my roommate and that often results in us sleeping together, both literally and as a euphemismâ?â
He shot you a teasing smirk. âCute. Youâre very cute,â he said sarcastically.Â
After a very long, comfortable silence, you spoke again, voice low and hushed. âSo, can I scoot closer to you now?âÂ
He looked over at you from out of the corner of his eye, still holding that smirk. âPlease do.â
You shuffled until your thigh was touching his.
Of course, you had missed it right away, but you hadnât really realized how much youâd missed being physically close to him until you caught the now-familiar scent of his cologne.Â
Another comfortable silence fell upon the room, quiet enough that all you could hear was the quiet crackling of the logs in the stone fireplace.
âCan I kiss you too?â you asked, looking over at him through the sheer curtain of your hair.Â
He looked like he was truly mulling it over as his eyes flicked down the hall to his siblingsâ rooms, and then across the living room and up the set of stairs to his parentsâ room. After a second, he let out a huff and said, âFuck it.â
He reached over and tugged on your various limbs until you were sitting in his lap, face to face.Â
It had been so forbidden to you up until then, that when he leaned in and caught your lips, you let out a groan under your breath.Â
âI missed you,â he breathed, almost directly against your mouth. âI love knowing you in any aspect, but Iâve been burning for this.â
 It made the heat rise to your cheeks, as well as your lap - but you couldnât let him know heâd turned you on so easily, so you replied breathily with, âThatâs an awfully fancy way of telling me youâre horny, babe.â
He was biting back a laugh for a split second before, grabbing your hips a little tighter to gain back what dominance you had borrowed from him with your teasing.Â
You pressed your luck. âReally, very eloquent.â
A look of contemplation flashed over his features as he was obviously deciding what to do next. He lifted you with little effort and then pressed you firmly backward until your shoulders hit the seat of the couch. Then he crawled over you and stared down into your eyes triumphantly.Â
âArenât you worried about someone coming out here?â you challenged through a grin.Â
He leaned in until he could drag his teeth across your cheekbone, making your skin prickle. âI donât care anymore,â he replied, and then - in a show of brutal honesty - pressed his crotch against your hip and ground down just enough to show you how hard he was.Â
Your breath caught in your throat, and involuntarily, you bucked up against him.
You kissed him so forcefully that it was almost more like just mashing your mouths together for a long moment. His hand slipped down between your bodies until his fingers brushed over your navel, the ticklish feeling making the muscles jump under the touch. It was the anticipation of his next move that fucked you up the most.
He was dragging his fingers lower, just about to dip under the band of your pajama pants when he seemed to have a moment of clarity and pulled his hand away altogether. You frowned at him, pushing your hips up to meet his hand instead, to which he responded by placing his palm on your stomach and pressing you back down with a laugh.Â
âLetâs go to my room,â he suggested.
âNo, wait.â You gave him the softest eyes you could. âItâs so romantic out here right now - the lights on the tree, the fire, the soft couch. Would you just kiss me here for a bit?â
The look on his face could only be described as enamored. He stared at your face for a few long seconds before you finally asked if he was alright.Â
âIâm lucky to have you.â
He said it under his breath, so sincerely and honestly, that you werenât sure how to respond until you could catch up with your thoughts. You cupped his jaw in your right palm, raking your fingers through his hair and he careened your touch in a way that had you feeling like a melting scoop of ice cream.
 âYou know, I sometimes think about how poorly the whole âmoving across the country to a place youâve never been for schoolâ thing could have gone. There were so many variables that had to click into place, and somehow I still ended up living with a person that,â You paused to brush your thumb against his cheekbone, hoping to portray your meaning through your touch. âMight be a literal angel.âÂ
He raked his front teeth over his bottom lip subconsciously as he consumed the compliment. You could see his brain chewing it over as he snickered a laugh.Â
âThough, I think angels are supposed to deliver good tidings and not black eyes,â you teased.Â
You couldnât name the look he adopted then, but it seemed somewhere between solemn and proud reminiscence. The frown forming on your features was not lost on him, and you quickly spoke before he could change the subject.Â
âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
He hummed and met your eyes. âI never wanted you to find out about that,â he said like an admission.
âWhat do you mean?â
âThere were a lot of things I did to get your attention, but that was completely reactionary. Iâve never been a violent person - well, to anyone but my siblings anyway-â
You huffed a laugh at him but nodded for him to continue.Â
âYou were right,â He met your eyes with an intense sincerity. âI am a lover. Not a fighter.â
âI know,â you whispered as you brushed a stray curl from his forehead. âBut you must have known I would find out, right?â
âI wasnât thinking about that at the time, but yeah - in retrospect - of course, youâd find out. But I did it. I sought him out and it just-â He bit his lip for a second to take a pause. âI saw him and all I could think about was you crying on my shoulder that night.â
You didnât say anything. You just let him gather his thoughts as the crackling of the fire served as a placeholder in his silence.Â
âHeâs lucky he only got a black eye because I wanted to kill him for touching you.â
 It was clear after a moment that he was waiting for you to respond, possibly even hoping for validation at such a vulnerable moment.Â
âIf Iâm being honest, Josh, I still canât believe you could do that - I canât even imagine you yelling at someone in a way that was anywhere near serious.âÂ
He stared at you for a few long beats, and you watched the reflection of the Christmas lights twinkle like stars speckled over the dark canvas of his eyes.
 âYeah, well,â he started, just above a whisper. His brows were tipped into a look of contemplation - the spacing of his words making you think that he wasnât sure how to proceed. âYou do crazy things to protect the people you love.âÂ
It wasnât voluntary in any way when your breathing stopped, it just happened - like your lungs were locked up for a few long seconds as you waited for one of you to say something.Â
âYouâre my best friend,â he said like a confession, looking more serious than youâd ever seen him. âAnd I love you.âÂ
Undeniably, your face was peachy pink - you could feel it tingling warm. You werenât sure what to do with your hands, but you knew you wanted to touch him. His skin tightened around his jaw when you ghosted your fingers over it.
âYou love me?âÂ
He nodded at you, a small but confident motion. âYou fill a lot of different positions in my life. Iâm not in love with you yet - I donât think - but I want your permission to be.â
Without wasting another second, you caught his lips in an earnest kiss, your chest feeling like it might implode. It only lasted for a moment before he was pulling you back up until you were sitting in his lap. Â
âWas that romantic enough for you?â he asked, trying to shade his voice with humor but it came out sounding breathless instead.Â
âI literally canât imagine anything more romantic,â you agreed with a weak laugh and then teased, âUnless you proposed. Youâre not going to propose, are you?â
He adopted a disbelieving smirk. âDo you want me to? Iâm sure I can fashion a ring out of something. Maybe thereâs a cock ring joke in there somewhere-â
You rolled your eyes playfully and cut him off with, âPlease shut up and take me to bed. Right now, okay?â
He ushered you off of him with a breathy laugh before gently nudging you in the general direction of his room. âHurry along then.âÂ
The two of you padded quietly down the hall, shutting the door without making a peep.Â
The only light in his room was what you could see of the Christmas lights that framed the front door, casting a white-gold glow over the setting.
When he laid you out over the bed, it was significantly gentler than you were expecting as was the kiss he placed - first on your cheek and then your jaw and down your neck to your throat.
His hands slipped under your pajama top, tugging lighting at the buttons on it from the inside and letting his fingers make the skin across your navel tighten. Instinctively, your fingers tangled into his hair, keeping him close enough that the pointed tip of his nose was resting on your sternum. The warm humidity of his breath hitting your skin was both calming and exciting at the same time in a way you couldnât describe if you tried. His fingers worked to undo your top with relative ease, sliding it off of your chest after.Â
You eyed the way his bicep flexed as he held all of his weight on it, and wrapped your fingers around it to give it a squeeze. He reacted by dragging his teeth across your breast with just enough sting to make your hips lift off the bed. The way he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth and rolled it around with his tongue made you squirm, fingers flexing into his tense skin. A tingly, warm feeling set over you as you wrapped your legs around his hips and sat up to shrug your shirt off.Â
âI donât think Iâll ever get used to this,â he stated simply as he ran his fingers down your bare chest.Â
You hummed at him through a smile, pinching his chin in your fingers and tilting his head up until he had to look you in the eyes. He gave you a grin as he bit his bottom lip and then leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek. In your heart, you knew the gesture had you blushing, but it was confirmed for you when he smugly rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone.Â
The chill in the room made your newly-naked skin prickle as he tossed your pajama pants to the floor, followed quickly by his own. With all of your clothing discarded into a pile, he pulled you up onto your knees, cupped both sides of your jaw with his hands, and tugged your face closer until your noses were touching. You listened to his shaky breathing for a moment before you dug your fingers into his hips, pulling him back over you as you laid out on the bed.Â
You knew your nails were digging into his skin - probably a little too deeply - as he pushed into you, one of his hands wrapped around your thigh to keep it hitched over his hip. This was confirmed for you when you heard him suck in a breath that sounded more like a hiss, though you got the feeling that he liked the sting of it.Â
Through the entirety of the time he was fucking you, he barely pulled his body away from you at all, instead opting to just rock himself against you until you were near tears. The biggest challenge was barely making a sound as you reached your peak, your face buried in the humid crook of his neck and shoulder.Â
You werenât positive how much time had passed, but as you laid together, post-orgasm, you realized just how exhausted you were.Â
Neither of you had said a word for quite a while, so it sounded too loud when you spoke into the dark room.Â
âAre you going back to the living room?â you whispered.Â
âNah, fuck it. Iâm not going anywhere,â he replied, nuzzling the top of his nose into your hair as you laid, half on his bare chest. Just before you fell asleep you remembered the very first night you slept in his bed, and how much had changed since then - and how much had not really changed at all.Â
+++
You had meant to set an alarm - really. But you hadnât gotten around to it the night before, which is why when you came stumbling out of the bedroom with Josh close behind you, you were met with a few pairs of eyes staring at you from the living room. Trying not to look like the most guilty human on earth, you ducked your head and quickly made your retreat to the bathroom. Neither of you said a word as you brushed your teeth together, sneaking playful glances at each other in the mirror.Â
By the time you had both showered - Josh first and then you second - and changed into your clothes for the day, it was 9:30. You both found the dining room table hosting his entire family and enough breakfast food piled on top of the worn wood to satisfy a small army.Â
The two spots that they saved for you were next to each other, so you settled in and tried to prepare for the most awkward meal of your life thus far.Â
âYou almost made it to the end,â Jake quipped, apparently happy as hell to deliver the first blow.Â
You watched Joshâs eyes flick up at him, delivering him a chilly look.Â
âOkay, it wasnât really a secret before, but itâs definitely not anymore,â Jake finished, rolling his eyes as the bowl of scrambled eggs was passed to him.Â
Josh poured himself a glass of orange juice and then gestured for your glass too. âIf I were in the living room last night, Santa wouldnât have come. Really, you have me to thank for the gifts you receive today.â He finished filling your glass and set the carton back down before continuing. âAnd Iâll take that thank you in the form of you shutting up and minding your own business.â Â
 Jake snorted a laugh as he dished himself out some breakfast. He opened his mouth to tease Josh further, but when he looked up and met your eyes, he let the next remark die on his lips - instead just settling for a smug smirk.Â
No one mentioned anything else about it, but as the meal went on, you realized that you really had nothing to be ashamed of. You brushed your fingers against Joshâs under the table and then let him lace them together as his sister was telling a story about the best gift sheâd ever received. You didnât share a look with him, but you didnât have to as his thumb swiped over the top of your hand, over and over.Â
After breakfast was eaten and presents were opened, Josh found you on your way out of the restroom and motioned for you to follow him to his room.Â
âI have something for you,â he started as he took your hand and sat you on the bed. You crossed your hands in your lap, settling into your spot with a smile. He closed the door behind him and then lifted the bag heâd packed from home onto the dresser.Â
He pulled out a little box like a magician would pull a rabbit from his hat, and then held it out for you to take.Â
âIt really isnât much, because we obviously donât have a lot of money, but after what you did for Penny- Well. I wanted to do something meaningful too,â he explained sheepishly.Â
The box was wrapped in mint green foil and marked with your name on a brown paper tag.Â
You took a lot of care removing the wrapping, and gently opened the top of the box as you held his eyes.Â
Inside was a 4-inch terra cotta pot, decorated with delicately painted sunflowers on a white background.
âItâs obviously not perfect-â he started, but you didnât let him finish before you set the pot on his bedspread and wrapped your arms around his neck.
âItâs perfect,â you stated simply.Â
+++
He slept with you again that night, this time sparing any sneaky behavior - and this time, when the two of you emerged from his room, no one even batted an eye. It took you only a few moments to pack your things up, but over an hour to say all of your goodbyes.Â
You watched as his mother hugged him again, just like she had when heâd arrived - tightly, like she could barely stand to let him leave. This time, she hugged you too, nearly just as warmly.Â
Josh helped you get your bags into the trunk of your car, being decidedly less gentle with Jakeâs belongings, and the two of you crawled into the front seats as Jake was ribbing his much taller younger brother at the front door.Â
âHey, I got you this. I looked it up on my phone and the wiki page said I could just rip it off, so I did,â he explained as he placed a long arm of the Christmas cactus into your lap.Â
You look at it for a long moment, your chest feeling tight.Â
He must have mistaken your silence for apprehension, because he continued on, letting a concerned tone shade his words. âIt said it wouldnât hurt the plant and that it would eventually just grow roots. Is that right? So you can have one of your own, you know? Since you liked it so much. You could even use the little pot.â
You let your eyes meet his as you tried to choke back the feeling in your throat that was threatening tears. Embarrassingly, your voice was a little shaky when you stated, âI love you too.â
He looked completely stunned, but he only had a moment to fix his expression before Jake was opening the back door and sliding effortlessly in.Â
âYou guys good to go?â Jake asked as he leaned forward and snatched the aux cable from where it was rested on the center console.Â
You gave Josh an expectant smile, but when it was clear that he wasnât going to respond, you leaned over and pressed a kiss against his lips, prompting him to say through a beaming grin, âLetâs go home.â Â
#brightest blue fic#Brightest Blue#josh fic#josh kiszka#josh x reader#josh kiszka smut#josh kiszka fic
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I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.
Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.
I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.
Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]
Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity
He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.
He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.
Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.
Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.
The truth was that he shouldnât have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.
But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?
Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?
Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.
Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldnât just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldnât see and he wasnât even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.
So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.
He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.
He looked around as he couldnât stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.
He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.
His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.
The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.
He didnât touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.
His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.
He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.
Did she sense his discomfort?Â
âElkeâ he picked up the call in a second.
âWow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?â
Her sarcasm didât go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.
âNo, I was thinking of youâ
âYes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of themâ
âSureâ he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types âElke, I was thinking we mightâŠâ
âI just called you for the billsâ
âI know, but maybe we could haveâ his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time âa drink together?â
She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly âI know you Seb, if it is money or sex what youâre looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long timeâ
âI knowâ he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him âI just hopedâŠâ
âDonât hope Sebastian, youâre already an hopeless causeâ
She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.
He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.
He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.
She was right.
What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.
A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.
He couldnât even take the trash out or he couldnât remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself thatâs only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.
Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.
Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.
But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldnât be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.
For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.
And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, letâs not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .
He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.
He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.
He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.
He didnât have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.
The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.
âFuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hellâ
He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.
When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.
He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.
His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at youÂ
âWhat the fuck are you doing here?â
âYou should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastianâ you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags âI am bringing food and body showerâ
He shook his head âAre you calling me stinky?â
âI amâ You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.
He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.
âI am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over youâ you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.
He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.
You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but thatâs what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasnât just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.
âIs that poison?â
âRat poisonâ he corrected you.
You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.
âHave this now, it will helpâ you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.
He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.
He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.
âSebastianâ you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you âAre you alright?â
He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You donât need his burden, you donât need to hate him like Elke and others do.
Just say yes.
âNoâ he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.
Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.
"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.
You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.
"Talk to me"
He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.
So weak, so helpless like a lost child.
"I can't help you if you don't talk"
Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.
"You can't help me"
"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"
He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.
"No, it is not important if I write or not"
You frowned at that comment.
"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"
He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"
Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.
When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.
His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.
"Is it Elke?"
"No, she was just right"
"About what?"
He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.
"About me"
"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."
"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"
His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.
"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"
He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"
"No"
It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.
"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"
"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"
"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"
"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envyâ
"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"
He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.
You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.
"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"
He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.
"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"
He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.
"So you agree?"
 "I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"
"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured
"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"
He chuckled at that comment.
"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor manâ
He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.
"You find me attractive?"
"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked
"I mean it"
You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"
He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.
"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"
You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle âokay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"
You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.
"Tell me"
"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"
He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.
And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.
"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.
You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.
You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.
He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.
"Seb, you..."
"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.
You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.
Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.
"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anythingâ he said and you chuckled softly âI know, youâre my favourite avengerâ
He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love youâ
He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.
You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language.Â
Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.
Just like you.
Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty
#sebastian zöllner#sebastian zöllner x y/n#sebastian zollner x y/n#sebastian zollner x reader#sebastian zöllner x you#sebastian zöllner x reader#sebastian zöllner headcanon#sebastian zollner#daniel brĂŒhl#daniel bruhl#daniel bruehl#ich und kaminski#ich und Kaminski fanfiction#tw: depression#tw: self deprecation
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forgiveness
pairing: belphegor x GN! reader, hints of everyone x reader
words: 8.1k+
genre: angst, fluff at the beginning and a bit at the end if u squint
warnings: mentions of mc and lilithâs death, foul language
preview: âIâm sorry,â He begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. âI know that will never cut it, and it will never be enough, but Iâm sorry.âÂ
âYouâre right, Belphegor. It wonât cut it.â
hey guys what up. so... iâve done a lot of thinking about belphegorâs dynamic with MC, and, like many others, was really bothered by the sudden switch after... he killed them. u know. typical stuff. i wanted to fill in the gaps!!! if im being completely honest, this has sat in my wips for.... like half a year. itâs my first time writing for obey me, so i hope that everyoneâs not too terribly ooc LOL
anyways yeah. i mention how belphegor killed mc a couple of times, so proceed with caution! hopefully, if i get any ideas, the next stuff i write will be a lot lighter. hope you enjoy! (also requests r open soooooooo)
The weight on your chest crushed your rib cage, threatening to snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. All you could see was the pitch black of eternal night, and whether your eyes were opened or closed you couldnât tell. What commanded your attention was the searing pain in your lungs, growing exponentially every half-second, and the unrelenting grip that was slowly shattering your esophagus. No matter how hard you struggled, squirmed and fought against the weight holding your body down, there was no use. It was pointless. The pain spread from the raging fire in your lungs to the tips of your fingertips, and everywhere felt as if you had been set aflame. Slowly, a light illuminated the force keeping you down.Â
You couldnât make out much, save for the cackle that rang insufferably through your ears, and the intense eyes that were staring you down.Â
They held no remorse.Â
-
Bones ache as you rest against your bed, finally allowing the tension in your muscles to melt away. Youâd never mistake this feeling for regret of a busy day, having spent so much time with the people you care about, but it certainly took its toll on you.Â
It began with Satan, whoâd asked you the night before to accompany him on an early morning walk. It wasnât an uncommon occurrence â heâd invite you to join his morning routine on every day off, and youâd never refuse â hence, at the wonderful time of 7:00am, you were venturing around the Devildom, hand in hand with the Avatar of Wrath. The two of you would walk, occasionally resting on a park bench for longer than either of you would like to admit, for about an hour and a half before you took an official break. The time was filled with pleasant chatter and comfortable silence. Every so often heâd squeeze your hand, and when youâd look over, the fondest of smiles crossed his face. It was a reminder of how glad he was that you joined him.Â
At around 8:30, he took you into a cafĂ© for breakfast, and two of you spent only about thirty minutes there chattering away happily. For the most part, he was vividly and excitedly discussing a book heâd just finished the night beforeâŠ
Until you were interrupted.
âHello, lovely!â Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you from behind, just before pressing a kiss on your cheek. Satan sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched the interaction.Â
âMy selfish older brotherâs been hogging you all morning, I couldnât help but want to whisk you away!â
Despite the glare Satan was sending his way, Asmodeus took a seat next to you, happily engaging in conversation as he completely ignored his brother. He told you that the mall was opening in about an hour, and Asmo desperately wished to get his perfectly-manicured hands on a new makeup product being revealed that day.Â
âBut of course I canât go alone! How positively dreary that would be.â His fingers twined with yours as he looked at you hopefully, and you ran your thumb across his hand. A sheepish smile crept its way onto your lips, and you looked over at Satan. He simply nodded, flicking his hand as a gesture for you two to leave, and Asmodeus didnât hesitate. He was quick to stand and pull you with them, holding tight to you as he whisked you away. You called out to Satan, now alone at the table with a reluctant smile on his face as he waved goodbye.Â
âThanks for breakfast! Get home safe!â
You almost missed the chuckle that left his lips, the cafĂ© door closing behind you.Â
Asmodeus kept you until noon. He got a hold of the lipstick he wanted almost right away, but insisted on buying an outfit to match the colour. Regardless of what youâd initially thought, the outfit wasnât for him.
âOh, weâll look positively stunning together!â He exclaimed after about two hours of forcing you in and out of changing rooms, putting his hands all over you to âadjust the clothingâ as he deemed necessary. Near the end, you could feel soreness deep in your muscles creeping in from such an active morning, but Asmodeusâ cheery face and constant flirtations helped you forget about it almost completely.Â
It wasnât until you got home that you truly felt the effects of on-and-off walking since early in the morning. Be that as it may, your stomach was growling, loudly reminding you that it was now past lunch. As much as you wished to give up on food for the time being and instead head to your room to collapse, the pain in your belly was enough to urge you to cease any arguments, instead ready to try and ignore the ache in your bones in order to quell the angry rumbling of your stomach.Â
Unfortunately, when you finally made it to the kitchen, there was no food prepared. Instead, what you found was a dejected Beelzebub, frowning softly as he once again was at the receiving end of a lecture from the eldest of his brothers. As quiet as possible, you snuck into the kitchen, trying to listen in on their conversation.Â
There was silence, followed by a sigh.Â
âItâs easier to simply ask whatâs going on as opposed to trying to eavesdrop, MC.â
You jumped, then bashfully made your way into the kitchen, a sheepish grin on your face. Lucifer was rubbing his temple.Â
âBeelzebub was supposed to be on lunch duty, but ended up âtaste-testingâ to the extent that he ate it all. Again.â Lucifer sighed. The typically perfect eldest brother was being run ragged, if the bags forming under his eyes told you anything. âSo, instead of working on the papers I have to get finished for tonight, Iâm stuck making lunch while he cleans up.â
Beelzebubâs frown tugged at your heartstrings, and in spite of the exhaustion clawing relentlessly at your bones, you relented.Â
âWhy donât I help? Four hands are better than two,â you proposed, and a small smile graced Luciferâs face. He lifted his hand to brush the disheveled black hair out of his face, and your chest ached just a bit at the sight. You made a mental note to drag him to bed for a nap the next time you saw him like this.
âThat would be more than welcome. Please, if you may.â Already you turned to start working, but Luciferâs voice made you pause.Â
âBut no feeding Beel. Heâs eaten more than his fill already, he can wait until weâre all done.â
Needless to say, every so often youâd slip Beelzebub a piece of chopped vegetable or cooked meat, and heâd very happily (but quietly!) munch away, his expression radiating warmth and joy. And Lucifer, who seemed to almost be omniscient at times, never once mentioned it. Once the three of you were done cooking, Lucifer placed his hand on your head, patting you gently.Â
âGood work, MC. I must leave now, but I trust that the two of you will be able to clean everything up. Your help was much appreciated. You will be paid back in kind for all of your hard work.â
If nothing else, the slight blush on Luciferâs face as he ever-so-gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head was more than enough payment.Â
âThank you.â Beelzebub cleared his throat, washing the dishes as you dried them. âI⊠Thanks for helping. And feeding me.â
His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded, bumping your arm with his gently. The small bit of pink that dusted his cheeks compelled you to coddle him, but you resisted the urge. Barely.
âAnytime, big guy.â
After you ate lunch, the only thought in your mind was the prospect of curling up under your covers and passing out. The fretful, broken sleep the night before wasnât helping at all in keeping you awake, and that on top of the rest of the dayâs events had you yearning for the feeling of your pillows.Â
Unfortunately, you hadnât even made it through the door when your phone began to blow up, one notification after the other in quick succession.
GGKKJFLFJG
MC
CMOE QUIC K
PLS
SUPE R RARE EVENT IN MONONONOKEÂ
PELASEÂ
YOU HVE TO BE PARTNERED WIHT SOMEONE TO GTE THE PRIZE
MC
MC
PL E A S E
HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHHHUUURRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY
You found yourself in Leviathanâs room, sat in his lap as he explained the event to you. Your half-asleep brain did its best to keep up with his quick speech, but that, along with the warmth of his chest against your back, became the most soothing lullaby.Â
âHey! Normie! I agreed to let you sit here so I could easily help you through the event, but if youâre going to fall asleep on me, Iâm pushing you offââ
âIâm awake! Iâm awake.Â
...Now, what was I supposed to do?â
The unintentional giggle that escaped your lips at his expression caused Leviathan to huff, exasperated, despite the flush of his face. Diligently, however, he thoroughly explained the event, for the second time, and the method to obtain the rare prize: a level 2000 Iâm Going To Murder You So Hard That Youâll Come Back To Life Just To Die Again Death Sycthe, the strongest weapon ever released in the game. It was a partner event, which explained Leviathanâs desperate and urgent request for aid. You didnât mind though. While yes, youâd probably never be able to get to his level of gamer, you were more than happy to go along for the ride. It made him happy!Â
Leviathan rested his chin against your shoulder as he played on his phone, focused to such a degree that the usually easy-to-fluster demon was completely unphased by your proximity. Your phone, set to AutoFight, rested untouched near Leviathanâs leg, abandoned on the floor. You watched him expertly take out enemies that would have one-hit KOâd you through heavy eyelids, and every time he beat a wave of enemies, his attention would momentarily avert from the screen, looking at you from the corner of his eye expectantly. A kiss on his cheek was more than enough to motivate him to continue on, albeit with a pink glow on his cheeks until his attention was once again completely wrapped up in the game at his fingertips.Â
-
âLevi! I said open up, goddamnit!âÂ
The pounding against the door was enough to distract Leviathan from his game, subsequently killing his character in the process. He groaned, cursing the demon who interrupted the two of you as he gently lifted you off of his lap, before getting up to open the door.Â
âThe hell do you want?!â
To be completely honest, you were so wrapped up in watching Leviathan play his games that you had forgotten about your weekly movie night with Mammon, who had come over to his younger brotherâs room to drag your ungrateful ass back to your own. Leviathan had cleared the event in Mononoke Land hours ago, but not wanting you to leave just yet, invited you to keep watching him play. Setting aside how tired you were, how could you say no? Youâd wanted to spend time with him, too.Â
Unfortunately, you lost track of time, and your phone, battery completely drained from the event, rested uselessly in your pocket. A consequence of this happened to be missing the countless messages and calls Mammon had sent your way, before he began his hunt for you throughout the house. The last place he checked was, of course, Leviathanâs room.
âCome on, human, I ainât got all day. No one keeps the Great Mammon waiting!âÂ
âExcept for MC,â you heard Leviathan mumble under his breath, and a laugh escaped you before you had the chance to slap a hand over your mouth. Mammon flushed deeply, before striding into his brotherâs room.Â
âHey, wait, you moron! I never saidâ!âÂ
The force of Mammon throwing you over your shoulder wasnât enough to hurt, but it certainly was enough to leave you breathless for a moment. âLetâs go, fragile human. I picked the perfect movie already.â Mammonâs words came out in a bashful mumble, but he had enough courage to lift his head and smirk at Leviathan as he carried you out of the room. All you could do was smile apologetically at the blue haired demon before Mammon turned, bringing you out of sight.Â
Mammon was all complaints as he carried you to your bedroom, but you knew it came from a place of love. Even though heâd never admit it, you could tell he was hurt by you unintentionally ignoring him. Because of this, instead of demanding he let you down, you allowed him to hold you like this, not a single complaint leaving your lips.Â
When he brought you to your room, you were set on the bed youâd missed dearly and he went to put the movie in the player.Â
âHey! No sleepinâ on me, alright? I wanna watch the movie with ya, and I canât if youâre passed out, now can I?âÂ
And so here you are now, bed frame creaking as Mammon climbs onto the mattress. Rubbing your eyes, you nod, and lean into him once he gets close enough for you to.Â
âSeriously, Iâm gonna hafta have a serious talk with Levi,â Mammon grumbles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in so that youâre almost in his lap. He pulls the blankets over the two of you as you rest your head on his chest, and hum quietly in return. âHe used up all your energy, and now we wonât be able to get to enjoy the movie as much! HonestlyâŠâ
The vibrations of Mammonâs words can be felt through his chest, and you simply cuddle into him more and try to train your bleary eyes on the television screen. The Avatar of Greed shuts up completely when you take his hand in yours and press a gentle kiss to it, before doing your best to focus on the movie. As time passes, however, the idea of giving into your whims grows more than tempting, and oh-so-easy for you to do.Â
-
âHey! Yo, MC! Seriously⊠Youâre hopeless.â
A chiding, yet gentle voice draws you from the confines of rest. You puff air from your nose in response, cuddling closer to whatever it was that had been so comfortable in the first place.
âMC⊠Come on. Ya gotta wake up, ya didnât even watch any of the movie! It was really good, yâknow.â
Mammonâs hand rubs circles on your back as you mumble incoherently, a noise to acknowledge the fact that heâs been talking, and that you are indeed awake now.Â
It takes a good amount of time, as well as some gentle encouragement from Mammon, to get you to finally open your heavy eyes, and even longer for you to be able to apologize to him for missing out on the movie he was so excited to watch. He pouts a bit, but the blush on the highs of his cheeks lets you know that he didnât mind all that much. You smile and yawn, and his chuckle resonates in your ears.Â
âI gotta go now, otherwise Luciferâs gonna kill me for staying so late. Sorry I woke ya up, but ya look so tired now that youâll probably fall back asleep right away.â
And so, after a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek (which made Mammon turn the prettiest shade of red), you close your door and⊠sigh. If you had been able to stay asleep, the fact that you arenât in pajamas and haven't brushed your teeth wouldn't be that much of an issue. Now that youâre slightly more conscious, however, itâs hard to convince yourself to simply climb back into bed. Your breath is bugging you a bit, and the jeans youâre wearing certainly arenât at all as comfortable as your pajama pants. For that reason, to your own dismay, you begin getting ready for bed â properly this time.Â
A small âfinallyâŠâ tumbles from your lips after you finish your nighttime routine. Lacking any form of grace, you plop into bed once more and pull the blankets to your chin, nuzzling into the pillow. Your bed still smells like Mammonâs cologne, and you hum softly to yourself before closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take over once more, and hold you hostage until late in the morning.Â
Alas, sleep seemed to be evading you now, similar to how you had ignored it during the day. The mattress you lay on simply isn't comfortable anymore, and the blankets that hug your body cause you to overheat. Unfortunately, if even one limb is out of the blanket, you get so cold you start shivering. None of your typical sleeping positions are anywhere near as effective as they typically are, and youâre left to wrestle with sleep alone, hoping to beat it into submission so you can finally get some proper rest.Â
After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning with no results, you finally relent. The nap youâd taken while watching the movie royally fucked you over, and you groan. Eventually you decide to give up on trying to fall back asleep, and huff as you sit properly on your bed.Â
Blanket dragging behind you as it drapes from your shoulders, you slowly make your way through the silent hallways of the House of Lamentation. The only sounds floating through the walls were the light buzz of electricity running through the wiring of the house, and your own footsteps as you began walking up one of the many staircases in the large building.Â
You arenât sure how long youâve been walking, the passage of time different at night to a hazy mind, but eventually you arrive at your favourite area in the house, second only to your lush bedroom. There are no artificial lights, only the gentle cast of the night sky providing the ideas of shape in the planetarium. Youâve never seen stars so vibrant and bright, and there are so many more in the Devildom than anywhere you could go back home. Even though the only light comes from the stars, itâs enough to create soft, fuzzy edges around everything in the room; this includes the bundle of various blankets mussed in the centre of the floor. Slowly, cautiously, you make your way towards the pile.Â
Since youâd arrived in the Devildom, the planetarium at the top of the House of Lamentation became your safe haven. Your room, without a lock on the door, was way too easy for intruding demons to enter without permission, and on nights when everything became too much for you to handle, youâd head up to the planetarium to clear your mind. Thereâs just something so calming about a starry sky on a clear night that releases you of your fears and anxiety, and helps you get a grip on the situation around you.Â
After freeing a certain someone from their attic-based captivity, however, you learned that the planetarium was a place favored not only by you. Since heâd been freed, youâd been kind, but there were still fears plaguing your mind, reminding you of everything that has transpired between the two of you. Itâs something that you canât escape, following you even - especially - in your sleep, when you wished youâd be the most at peace. It makes sense, considering the sin he embodies, but you wish it wasnât like that nonetheless.Â
Once youâd learned that this was one of his favourite rooms in the house, especially on nights when he canât fall asleep, you found yourself avoiding this area. Itâs not that you hate him; itâs the opposite, really. Nevertheless, you canât help but feel the tightening of his fingers around your neck, and the burning sensation in your lungs thatâs screaming for oxygen, and the desperation to alleviate the seer of deprivation.Â
Still, you trek on. Closer and closer to the pile of blankets, your gut cries to you to run away. You ignore it. The nearer you get to the nest of blankets, the faster your heart beats, the more lightheaded you feel. But you continue.Â
Eventually you get close enough to make out the shape of a familiar pillow, the cow print on the case worn and well-loved. From the moment you walked in the room, you knew he was here. All the same, you walk on, and the only sounds in the room are the gentle taps of your clothed feet against the tile, and the quiet noises of your quickened breaths.
Youâve avoided being alone with him since⊠Since you⊠Since the event. Your heart screamed at you to forgive him, to love him just as much as you love his brothers. That said, thereâs nothing in you that can stop your stomach from churning whenever he gets too close.Â
Butterflies beat aggressively within your heart and stomach, and itâs years before you get within his range of sight, but you sit down on the floor, holding the blanket tight to your body.Â
Thereâs one beat,Â
two beats,
three beats of silence before you can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth. In your peripheral you can see his lips parting, closing, parting again as he tries to find the words. He heard you walk in, and was pleasantly surprised when you didnât immediately bolt in the opposite direction. However, this proximity leaves him with an entirely new predicament. He wants to talk to you, he wants to laugh and joke with you the way his brothers do, but one look at your face and he notices the dark bags under your eyes, and the frown that tugs at your lips as you stare up at the stars. He can hear your heart racing, and feel his own in the tips of his fingers. He opens his mouth again, but the crack in his voice betrays his usual collected personality.Â
âIâll go,â Belphegor begins, begrudgingly starting to gather his blankets. His body freezes when his eyes pass over your figure and youâre looking right at him, through him, and he swears he can feel the blood in his veins stop pumping. Your expression is unreadable, almost scary, and heâs never in his life been in fear of a human until this moment.Â
The seconds pass as years do, both of your bodies chilled to the bone but neither of you able to look away. In the end, the one who casts their gaze somewhere else is you, and he exhales loudly.Â
âDonât.â
Your reply is simple, but heâs stuck in place. Slowly, he nods, sitting down again the way he had been prior, and pulling his beloved pillow close to his chest. He canât breathe, the tension suffocating. It doesnât help that now you refuse to look at him.Â
â... If you want,â he replies dumbly, staring at the floor. He feels trapped in place, afraid to move and scare you off. Despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to leave you be, he stays. You told him to, after all. Slowly, you sit down, his blankets creating a low wall between the two of you.
Itâs only now that he gets a good look at you. You're tired, he knows, watching as your eyelids droop and your lazy movements when you get more comfortable under your blanket, but thereâs more to it than just that. You seem so fragile, like sugar glass, breaking with even the slightest amount of pressure. He feels he can reach over and shatter you with the gentlest of touches, and that thought alone roots him in place. Since you came back, heâs never seen you without a smile. Your genuine smile was the prettiest, he decided rather early on, one that lights up your face and brightens those around you. Belphegor really, truly loves your smile.
He knows there was a point in time, not long ago, where he could have made it so no one saw it ever again. He canât help but be grateful he didnât succeed when he sees you smiling at his brothers.Â
Thatâs never the smile you show him though. Itâs not for lack of effort; you certainly try, and he loves you for that. But the smile you show him is always plastered on, and he knows youâre doing it for his sake. With Belphegor, your smile never reaches your eyes. Be that as it may, youâre never weak around him. Fake smiles prove exactly how strong you really are, but your heart races every time he enters the room. As much as he wishes your palpitations are out of excitement, he knows better than to give himself false hope.Â
Thatâs why heâs so taken aback when he looks you over and you seem so vulnerable. Never, not in a million years, would he ever let himself believe that youâd allow yourself to look weak in front of him, not after what he did. Even so, here you are, shaking, knees drawn into your chest, and his heart soars because youâre showing him a new side to yourself. It aches at the knowledge that youâre feeling so vulnerable because of him.Â
His eyes burn holes in the side of your head. You know heâs watching you, studying you, but you canât bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not when the hands he uses to pull the blankets over his body are the exact same ones that led you to your untimely and violent demise, and not when every time you look at his face, you can also see Mammonâs above you, sobbing as he tries to will you not to fade away into nothingness.Â
Thereâs no putting it nicely. You were murdered, and Belphegor was the one who killed you. As much as he tries to pretend it never happened, to act around you the same as his older brothers do, you would never forget. Neither would he, regardless of the effort he puts into pushing the memory out of his mind. His chosen way of coping was to laugh with you, to get close and have you forgive him without acknowledging the situation. It was too painful to talk about, after all. He willingly, happily snuffed out the life of someone his brothers love, and someone heâd find himself loving too. You became someone who changed him, helped him grow and be better. It was easier, simpler to act as if youâd met him the same way youâd met any of his brothers.Â
Belphegor killed one of the last remaining parts of his past, a part that, while once warm and light, mutated and infected him, causing his anger to grow out of control, like a weed that suffocates any flower that tries to flourish. He killed a descendant of his sister, and the fact that youâre here now is more of a second chance than he thinks he could ever deserve in all his millenia of living.Â
And yet, here you are. Scared and shaking, but here. The silence has stretched on for longer than heâd like; he wants to be able to love you, openly and happily, but knows it wonât happen. It canât, unless he does what he thought was the very last thing heâd do.Â
âIâm sorry,â Belphegor begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. He can hear your heartbeat pick up, and he curses himself mentally. Your lip between your teeth, you remain silent. His nerves force him to speak more.Â
âI know that will never cut, and it will never be enough, but Iâm sorry.â
Thereâs more silence. He feels like he canât breathe, the tense atmosphere forcing its way around his throat and tightening its grip. He doesnât know how long it takes you to even contemplate replying, let alone allow yourself to respond. Belphegorâs ears ring almost deafeningly loud. He canât take it.
âYouâre right.âÂ
His eyes, which he trained to the ground, dart up to your profile once more. You pause, wetting your lips.Â
âYouâre right, Belphegor. It wonât cut it.â
Thereâs not enough time to process your words before he really, really looks at you. Almost fearlessly, you meet his eyes.Â
Almost fearlessly.Â
The shaking of your hands betrays the strength of your voice. Belphegorâs chest aches.Â
âButâŠâ
Thereâs a pause as you speak. He canât look away again, even as your eyes meet the stars once more. Thereâs no chance heâll miss a word you say, even if it tears him apart.
âItâs⊠itâs really difficult. I know you know that, butâŠâ
Each time you pause, Belphegorâs mind begins storming. He canât figure out what youâre going to say, or how youâre going to react, and it drives him crazy. Heâs usually so good at reading people, but youâre an enigma. It sends a chill down his spine.Â
His throat is caught. Even if he had words to say, they wouldnât be able to come out. So he sits in silence as you find your own.Â
âI donât want you to feel worse than you do.â You lick your lips. âOr maybe I do? I⊠I really donât know. I donât know how Iâm supposed to feel about you, Belphie.â
The nickname tugs at his heart, more than he could ever admit. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to do anything other than look at your melancholy face, knowing heâs the problem. He wants to run and hide, to sleep forever. He canât, though. Not when youâre here. Not now.Â
Knuckles turn white as he clutches desperately onto his pillow. His breath shakes as he draws in air.Â
âI want to love you. I want to love you as much as I love your brothers, and care about you as much as I care for themâŠâ
You struggle to find the words.Â
â... But itâs hard.â
You curse your lack of eloquence. Now, of all times, when your words are the only thing that enable you to communicate how you truly feel, they fail you. This might be your only chance to ever properly show Belphegor how you feel, what makes you so conflicted every time he walks into the room with a smile on his face, and yet all you can say is âitâs hardâ. Obviously.Â
A breath finds its way into your lungs, and the sound of your lips parting in the otherwise silent planetarium echoes in your ears.
You continue.
âItâs hard because every time I see your face, or I hear your voice, or I-â, you falter, heart catching in your throat, âor you touch me, I canât help but be reminded of what happened.â
Belphegor doesnât dare tear his eyes away from your form. The grief that settles into his face perfectly matches your own, eyebrows upturned and bottom lip quivering just the slightest bit. Even the trembling of your hands is replicated in his own. Heâs never seen you like this, so incredibly vulnerable, and it tears him apart inside to know that he is the cause of it.
A shuddery breath comes from Belphegor, and you fight your instincts to check if heâs okay. You know he isnât.
The silence deafens you, thundering in your ears so harshly that you're tempted to place your hands at the side of your head to muffle how quiet it is. You donât, however, and whether itâs because you donât want to look crazy, or because youâre afraid you might shatter if you move, youâll never know. Do you want him to talk? Do you want him to say anything? Do you want an apology?
If you had an answer for that, youâre sure that things would have patched themselves up much quicker than this. You caution a glance at Belphegor, and the weight pressing down on your chest gets heavier at his expression. It feels almost as if you can inhale the guilt he feels, the emotion radiating off of him in waves.
âI⊠Logically, Belphie, I get it.â Again with that cursed nickname. Usually, hearing it from your lips makes Belphegor feel warm and goddamn near giddy, but now it only seemed to drive the knife in his gut further.Â
âI understand what happened and why you did it. I may not agree⊠but I get it, you know?â You swallow.
âIn the end, Iâm still here. And⊠and Iâve come to learn that youâre nothing like that anymore. Youâve grown, and changed, and the guilt and anger that consumed you took control, and that's why you-- thatâs--âÂ
You pause, clutching the blanket around you to try and ground yourself. The shakiness in your voice is not missed by Belphegor, and even if it had been, thereâs no way heâd be able to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. Slowly, subconsciously, one of your hands comes up to rest against your neck, a phantom of the grasp that once threatened to crush you.
âS-So⊠I understand why you did it. And Iâm alive, and weâre friends, so it should all be okay, right?â Belphegor casts his glance away.
âBut Belphie⊠as much as I want to forgive you, I also know that Iâm never going to be able to forget what happened. Itâs there in my dreams, and itâs there in your smile, and itâs there every single time your arm brushes mine and I flinch like a total loser.â
A weak chuckle makes its way out of your chest, and the halfhearted smile that follows forces a tear from your eye. Youâre quick to wipe it away, hopefully quick enough so that it goes unnoticed by Belphegor.
It does.
What he does notice, however, is the frustration that holds tight to the edges of your sentences. The frustration is not directed at him, no. You would be yelling if that were the case, and maybe that would be easier for him to hear. No, this frustration is directed at yourself. Youâve been trying so hard, and all Belphegor has been doing is running away. His teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip, trying desperately not to show any anger he feels at himself, that he tastes iron.
âAnd then we became all buddy-buddy, you know? Like I was never lied to, or used, or manipulated, or-- or--â
Belphegor is torn from his self-pity when you continue, and he almost wishes youâd stop speaking. The thought that you might break him with your words has him shaking, and a feeling similar to fear courses heavily through his veins. Please, stop. He wants to go back to running away.
But you continue, as you always have.
âAnd Iâm left not knowing how to feel. Iâm so mad at myself for being such a coward and not being able to just get over it like everyone else, and Iâm so fucking pissed that I canât just exist around you like I do for everyone else. I mean, I used to be terrified of Lucifer, too.â Another fragile laugh, and you sweep the hair from your eyes with a shaky hand. Belphegor swallows hard.
âBut I⊠I canât pretend like nothing happened. As much as I want to be near you, and hug you, and take naps and play pranks on Luci with you⊠I canât. I canât act as if what I feel isnât real, and what you did didnât happen. Itâs so hard, Belphegor.â You sigh, and finally look at him once more. He canât meet your gaze, slumped over himself and hugging his pillow so tight to his chest it seems as if he wishes to disappear into it. âEspecially because I really, truly want to understand why everyone loves you so much. And I want to love you, too. I want to know why Beel smiles every time youâre brought up in conversation, and I want to smile just the same. But⊠But right now, I canât.â
Talking has gotten easier. The words that used to escape you have become accustomed to being used again, and confidence has restored in your gut. You sit a bit straighter as you watch Belphegor carefully, a sad smile lifting your cheeks.Â
Belphegor knows that this is when he should swoop in, say something so intellectual that youâre caught off guard, and he can save you from⊠himself. This knowledge does nothing to save him from himself. He canât even open his mouth to mime a sentence, let alone actually speak. The thought of how pathetic he must look settles under Belphegorâs skin, and he can feel his irritation rising. Not at you though, never at you. Not even when⊠When it all happened. His anger was misplaced, but he has never been angry at you.
Finally, when the quiet becomes too much, he forces himself to meet your gaze. The way you look at him, just as vulnerable and bare and scared as he is⊠he feels safe. He knows, even though your words sear his heart, that you never mean to hurt him, especially now. Youâre being honest, and simply expect the same from him.
Belphegor inhales a deep breath, before willing himself to speak.
âI thought--â he croaks, and quickly clears his throat. Fuck. âI thought that if⊠if I could pretend that nothing happened, then I wouldnât have to face any consequences.â
He curses audibly. Just how pathetic can he sound? Belphegorâs voice is hoarse and quivering, and weak. âWeakâ is never a word that he would have used to describe himself, but now it echoes hauntingly against the confines of his skull. One of the most powerful demons in existence, and he finds himself quaking before a mere human. He cares for you, though, and he cares for you viciously. Something in Belphegor knows that heâs never going to be able to prove that to you unless he pushes his way through this.
So he forces himself to continue, even with every cell in his body desperately screaming at him to stop.
âI did what I did out of a place of guilt⊠and regret. I couldnât stand the fact that it was because of me, that it was my fault, that Iâm the reason that Lilith--â
Belphegor stumbles over his own words, and he sets down his pillow before he accidentally tears a hole through it. Instead he braces himself on the cool floor, in need of something steady to hold onto. This whole conversation shook him to the core. He can hardly believe heâs talking about his sister. Sheâs a topic that heâs avoided even around BeelzebubâŠ
But if Belphegor ever wants even the possibility that youâll forgive him, he knows he has to. Everything is on the line. His blunt nails press against the tiles and he focuses on steadying his voice.
âI couldnât accept that it was my fault.â A newfound steadiness weaves its way around his words, and he finds himself sitting a bit straighter. âIâm the one who introduced her to the human world, and kept bringing her back. Iâm the reason she suffered, and why the war started, and why we fell, and why sheâŠâ Belphegor coughs. âIn the end, I couldnât accept that Iâm the one who killed her.
Your heart yearns to tell him that no, heâs wrong, itâs not all his fault. You know it wonât help right now, though, and that it isnât your time to speak. Settling back a bit, you let your blanket fall from your shoulders.Â
Belphegorâs heart stutters, and pounds so hard that he feels like it's trying to tear through his chest. Even so, he doesnât miss the way your hand reaches out to smooth over his own, and for a moment he feels himself wanting to melt just from the simple touch.Â
Belphegor pulls away. He doesnât deserve your comfort, not yet.
âSo⊠So when you said that youâre a descendant of Lilith, I-- I couldnât help myself. I jumped at the chance to get to know you, learn about what makes you similar and what makes you different. Her blood flows through your veins, and I was quick to ignore what I did in favour of getting to know you, and⊠and inevitably, becoming just as fond of you as my brothers⊠but that canât erase what I did.â
The feeling of understanding floods you and you find yourself nodding at his words. To be completely honest, even now, youâre scared. Your heart beats for many reasons, fear one of them, but you donât run away. Not anymore. You couldnât bring yourself to even if you wanted to.
Your hand, abandoned next to Belphegorâs, lay dormant. The need to comfort wills you to once again place your hand on his, but you donât move. When heâs ready, if he ever is, youâll be there.
Just as heâll be there for you.
âI killed you, MC. And in doing that, I killed Lilith. Again.â
Countless emotions storm their way through Belphegorâs conscience, despair clawing at his throat, regret snapping his back, and guilt slowly crushing him under its weight. How is it that one can feel so empty, and yet so filled to the brim with misery?
âAnd not only that, but if I succeeded⊠I would have completely missed out on getting to know you, and caring about you as much as I do now. It would have been a loss that I never would have understood, but know for a fact that I would have felt. Even⊠Even when I was proud,â he spits out the word as if itâs poison, âof what Iâd done, watching my brothersâ hearts break at the sight of your body⊠Even then, I felt it. The ache. Itâs so fucking stupid.â
His tone, now bubbling with anger, stills you. Itâs not directed at you, and you know this, but despite yourself, you freeze. Belphegor notices, and quickly clears his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He allows your heart a moment to slow as he regains his composure, and you find yourself breathing again.
âI know that me saying sorry is never going to cut it.â Belphegor turns his body to fully face you. Heâs no longer running from his feelings, or from you. He knows he canât anymore. Hesitantly, he lifts his trembling hand to place over yours. The muscles in your fingers tense, and he pauses to gauge your reaction. When you slowly nod your head once, he delicately places his hand on yours, using his thumb to gently begin massaging the tension away. âAnd I know that even if I do everything right from here on out, that thereâs a chance that you wonât ever forgive me. And I understand why.â
Your heart sinks at his expression, his gaze locked on your joined hands. As aloof as he normally is, you can see none of that on his face now. When you turn over your hand he quickly pulls away, but your shaky movements to bring his hand back and intertwine your fingers urges him to go on.Â
âBut I want to try. And really try this time. I want you to be honest with how you feel, whether Iâm frustrating you or scaring you or anything like that, and⊠and I want to be honest with you too. IâŠâ
Belphegor trails off, but you squeeze his hand. He draws in a slow breath.Â
âNo matter what happens, no matter how you feel, weâre stuck together for the next few months. I want to spend that time getting to know you, and I want us to be as close as you are with any of my brothers⊠but I also want you to know that you shouldnât feel forced. If itâs ever too much, I need you to tell me, and I promise Iâll back off.â
The smallest of smiles makes its way onto your face as you quietly agree. Belphegor doesnât allow himself to try and figure out if it's genuine, out of pity, or sadness, but in spite of everything, it makes him feel a bit lighter. Just a bit.
âThis wonât fix everything right away,â you say, and he now knows that your smile is a combination of the three. Along with this, though, Belphegor also knows the small sparkle in your eyes is hope, and heâs willing to take that hope and nurture it for however long he must.
âI know,â he sighs, but even he can feel the small tilt of a smile on his face, âbut Iâm willing to take as much time as you need to decide how you feel about me. And⊠And if you decide you hate me, which is fair, and that you never want to even be in the same room as me, Iâll respect your wishes.
Until then...Until you decide that you really, truly hate me, I wonât stop trying.â
Thereâs no way of telling how long his words linger in the air around the two of you, circling around your heads and making their way through your body. Even so, Belphegor diligently watches you, wanting to make sure heâs not overstepping his bounds. He even contemplates letting go of you, but is reassured when slowly, almost unnoticeably, you begin smoothing out the lines on the back of his hand with your thumb.
As much as you want to tell him that you could never hate him, you also know you canât promise anything. Still, for now, just as much as him, youâre willing to try. You stay in silence, more comfortable than youâve ever been in his presence, gently caressing the hand held in your own.
Eventually, Belphegor clears his throat once more. The vulnerability has made him tense and rendered his voice weak.Â
âCan⊠can you hug me?â He all but whispers, fragility making his body quiver once more. He was completely open about his feelings for the first time in a lifetime, and the intensity of it left him craving affection. He knows how unfair this is to you, but he canât help himself. He wishes to be held, for his fears to be quelled by someone so much stronger than him. âIf you donât want to,â he falters, speaking quickly, insecurely, âI won't even touch you. I-If you do, I promise I can keep my hands behind my back, and I wonât even--â
His words end abruptly as he feels you release his hand, and his heart sinks. He debates running away again, until he hears you moving towards him, and he finds heâs frozen in place. Slowly, but surely, with more courage circulating through your veins than youâve had all night, you make your way over the blankets that divide you and position yourself right next to Belphegor, pulling him into your chest. Even now, he can feel how quickly, persistently your heart races, and yet you stay. True to his word, Belphegor rests his hands on the ground behind his back, but he doesnât stop himself from nuzzling into your chest⊠and he cries. The complete, uninhibited release of his emotions hit him like a truck, and he sobs heavily into you, tears slowly but surely staining your shirt. You adjust yourself so you can hold him closer, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back as he lets go of everything heâs been holding on to for longer than you can even imagine. This is a man whoâs run from his emotions for centuries, and the fact that heâs willing to face them for your sake comforts you, cradles your heart and presses gentle kisses against the cracks. You know that youâre not going to wake up tomorrow with everything okay, but for now⊠for now youâre comfortable with his touch. Heaving in a deep, steadying breath, you reach down just enough to take Belphegorâs arms, and guide them to rest his hands on your hips. At this silent permission, he slowly, delicately wraps his arms around your waist, despite craving your body closer, wanting to hold you tight and never let go. He cradles you like youâre made of the most brittle glass, and you smile. The gesture touches your heart, and⊠and you feel safe. You know that all he wants to do is embrace you as tight as he can, but he doesnât, even with permission.Â
Here, in Belphegorâs arms, you feel safe. Here, where Belphegorâs grip on you is so gentle that it wouldnât even crumple paper, you feel loved. As he cries into your chest, holding you as if you were an antique, hope slowly fills your heart.
Everything is far from perfect, but itâs still on the right track, here in the quiet planetarium.
#tw: death#tw: murder#obey me#swd obey me#swd belphegor#belphegor x reader#obey me fanfic#obey me x reader#swd#shall we date#obey me belphegor#obey me beelzebub#obey me asmodeus#obey me satan#obey me leviathan#obey me mammon#obey me angst#obey me fluff#obey me smut#otome game#fanfic#ju writes#obey me lucifer#juwrites
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with great power I [lee jeno]
summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. thereâs just one issue: after your fatherâs death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.
pairing: lee jeno x reader
genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack
warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric
song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare
word count: 10.5k
a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffeeâ for beta reading <3
main masterlist // story masterlist
chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week
Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.
When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday.Â
And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.
In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00.Â
He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention heâd have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, heâd be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak.Â
He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.
[7:48 AM]
y/n: pssst
y/n: shithead
y/n: where r u ????
[7:49 AM]Â
y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know
jeno: âŠâŠ i'm on the train
jeno: woke up late
y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR
y/n: LATE*
y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR
[7:50]
jeno: probably, yeah
jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAYÂ
y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday
y/n: [sent an attachment!]
[7:51 AM]
jeno: SHUT UP
jeno: you're not funny >:(
jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune
y/n: au contraire im hilarious
jeno: meanie :(
jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here
jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,
[7:52 AM]Â
y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swearÂ
y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh
y/n: also ur literally never lateÂ
y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill
y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine
Donât be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what youâd told him not to do. Donât be stupid.Â
The buildings are low, he thought to himself, itâll be easier to see me.Â
Donât be stupid.
Too late!
Thwip!
Jeno didnât hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range.Â
Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.
Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didnât want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didnât pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life.Â
But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jenoâs eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.
Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly.Â
[7:57 AM]Â
y/n: let me know when u get here !!!
No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.
The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took.Â
After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School.Â
[8:06 AM]
jeno: just did >:D
Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldnât stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. âKibum, please hurry,â He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. âThatâs Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.âÂ
He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. âTell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.â
âThe Bachelor?â
âPlease. Weâre too classy for that. Drag Race.â
âAh. I see.â
âJeno,â Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, âGet to class. Happy first day of senior year.â
âThanks, Mr. Kim.â
He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation.Â
 A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.
âHey,â You greeted, âThat was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.â
Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. âThe train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.â
You wrinkled your nose. âWhy do you smell so bad?â
âI, uh⊠ran a little.âÂ
You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. Itâs not that bad. âI still donât understand why you wonât let me drive you to school. Youâre literally next door.â
âI donât know,â He answered, rolling his eyes, âMaybe itâs because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You wonât even let me drink water in that thing.â
The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. Youâd spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement.Â
The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldnât go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times youâd yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.
You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. âAt least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.â
Youâd been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that heâd love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. âCanât,â He mumbled, âIâm headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.â
âOh, yeah,â You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, âPark Industries.âÂ
He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. Sheâd been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunnyâs stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon.Â
âEnough of that,â She said after what seemed like an eternity, âEveryone quiet down, Iâm going to call roll.â
Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking.Â
"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored.Â
San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him.Â
You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.Â
âYouâll be fine,â You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, âYouâre not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.â âYeah, because Iâm sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.â
âChoi, San,â Mrs Bakerâs voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry.Â
âYouâll be sitting with⊠L/N, Y/N.âÂ
Jenoâs shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front.Â
âLee, Jeno,â Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, âYouâll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.â
He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasnât part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and theyâd been pretty friendly ever since.Â
âHey,â Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her.Â
âRemember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.â Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didnât really pay attention to.
You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about somethingâprobably bragging about some soccer achievementâbut you werenât paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today.Â
It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day youâd been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalpâ
âYou still havenât told her about how you feel?â Yeeun asked quietly, and Jenoâs head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.
âW-what? Me. Like Y/NâŠâ He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeunâs accusatory stare. âYouâre hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.â
Yeeun shook her head. âYouâd better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. Sheâs not gonna wait around for you forever.â
 âI donât like her, Yeeun.âÂ
âKeep telling yourself that.â
âHey! Jeno Lee!â
âHey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!â Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaeminâs tone next to him.
âWell, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...â
Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. âWhere are the munchkins?â Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisungâs absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.
âEh, they should be here soon,â Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, âHowâs your day been?â
âPretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.â
You rolled your eyes. âHe doesnât want you dead. Iâm telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. Youâre being more dramatic than usual and Hyuckâs being more⊠weird than usual.â
âAnd just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?â Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, âItâs our last year in this hellhole, Iâm excited that weâre finally getting out of here. And besidesââ
âPlease donât bring up the fact that youâre abandoning us next year.â Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.
âHi, Sungie,â You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. âHi, Y/N.â
âWhat were you saying, Hyuck?â Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken.Â
âOh,â He replied after swallowing, âThis is gonna be my year. Iâm getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.â
âDo you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?â Mark asked, âWhat if itâs like⊠Shrek?â
Jisung made a face. âThereâs a Shrek musical?â
Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.
âI donât know about male lead, if itâs Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,â The Chinese boy joked, âWith those front teeth, youâre a shoo-in.â
The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.
âFuck you, Huang.âÂ
Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. âNot if you paid me a million dollars.â
The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club.Â
"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.
"San Choi."
Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you.Â
"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"
"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."
Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."
"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."
Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."
âDo you think theyâll finally calm the fuck down this year?â Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.
You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. âDoubt it. Theyâre not the hateful eight for a reason.â
The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. âI would like to hear,â He mused, âAbout the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.â
Donghyuck beamed. âOh, itâs amazing. You seeâŠâ
If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.
The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice.Â
âSo, youâre going to see Mr. Park today?â
Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. âHe said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says thereâs something big going on.â
Jaeminâs eyes lit up with curiosity. âDid he say what kind of something?âÂ
Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. âIâll let you know tomorrow.âÂ
Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because heâd swamped the class with homework.
As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled.Â
âHey!â Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately.Â
âHello,â He sing-songed. âSo, I was thinking⊠are you free on Friday night?â
You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. âYep! Why?â
âIâm free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.â
You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. âHell yes,â You answered, âDo you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?âÂ
âPizza sounds good,â He said. âWho are you even waiting for?âÂ
You made a face that made it seem as if youâd just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. âWellââ
Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.
âOh.â Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.
âYeah. If you donât hear from me later itâs because I jumped out of my truck because I donât wanna work withââ
âWell, hello, gorgeous!â Sanâs voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted âcomplimentâ.Â
âHey, San.â Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. âIâve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.â
He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. âSorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, itâs hard to get him to stop. And besides, whereâs the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?â
You didnât respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag.Â
âThanks, Y/N. Iâll just be a minute.âÂ
He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jenoâs shoulders, causing him to flinch.Â
Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friendsâseven of them, to be preciseâwere the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy.Â
Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasnât someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, heâd made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time.Â
 Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasnât afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord.Â
All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends.Â
"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"
Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the tâ"
"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"
"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."
You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?"Â
You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few tâ"
"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"
"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. âWhat about you, Y/N?â
You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.
So you shrugged. âNot a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.â You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. âRight, Jen?â
Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. âYeah.â
San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. âThanks, Y/N. I owe you one.â
You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. âDonât mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, soâŠâ
âOh! My bad,â He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. âHere. For next time.â
You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. âJust for homework, got it?â
San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. âOn a gentleman's honor,â He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.
âSan!â The team captainâHongjoongâcalled from a few feet away, âAre you guys done yet or what?â
âComing!â San yelled back.
âAlright, weâll let you go,â Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. âBye, Y/N! See you around.â
 The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. âDicks,â You muttered once they were out of earshot. âYou good?â
Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. âIâll be fine.â
You tilted your head, frowning. âJenoââ
âI gotta go,â He said quickly. âIâll see you later?â
You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. âYeah. Be careful!âÂ
Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. âOn a gentlemanâs honor,â He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.
You didnât catch the way Jenoâs shoulders relaxed at the sound.
I want you to know now
Baby, it could go down
I donât wanna talk about it
Baby, letâs just go now
The train ride into Midtown didnât take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.
When you talk right to meÂ
You gonâ have to do me
Every time you think youâre leavingÂ
You running back to me
Youâd met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didnât really remember. For him it was like you werenât there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. Heâd had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months.Â
Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. Youâd introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung.Â
He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you werenât sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. Heâd introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung.Â
And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didnât know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and⊠well. The rest was history.Â
Can we just talk? Can we just talk?
Talk about where we're goin'
Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts
Can't get what we want without knowin'
Just like when he met you, he didnât recall an exact moment where he realized heâd fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasnât in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here heâd fallen in love with youâhe was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since.Â
You were it for him. Heâd had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasnât the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasnât out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything.Â
I've never felt like this before
I apologize if I'm movin' too far
Can we just talk? Can we just talk?
Figure out where we're goin'...
As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.
The âJeno Tingleâ as his Aunt Sunny called itâJeno hated the termâhad taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration.Â
Jaemin didnât understand. âIf I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, Iâd never turn that shit off,â Heâd said once. But truthfully, Jeno didnât really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the âhateful eightâ, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to.Â
It was his friends he worried about. He couldnât be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else⊠Well. He couldnât hover over them like some guardian angel.Â
Now that the âJeno Tingleâ was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.
When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face.Â
He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also.Â
To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smartâhe was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college.Â
To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing.Â
Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.
âWoah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! Itâs me, itâs me!âÂ
Doyoungâs eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.
"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"
"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."
Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss.Â
That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didnât have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machineâyeah, Jeno didnât get it either.Â
Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"
Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only.Â
This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters.Â
Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Parkâwhich wasn't often, maybe once or twice a yearâhe wondered where he would be if he hadnât surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.
"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked.Â
"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."
Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he isâ"
"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."
Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.
âSo⊠howâs the apartment?â Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.
âOh, now that Taeyongâs moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. Heâs really done a great job at it.â
âWhen am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.â
âHeâs really cool,â Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. âThings are getting really serious.â
Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.
âYou guys sound like a really good couple,â He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. âOh, wellââÂ
 The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. âIâll tell you later. Câmon.â
The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.
Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit.Â
Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeolâs Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldnât contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), heâd contact Junmyeon. And if he couldnât contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.
"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here."Â
Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."
Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."
Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."
Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."
The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The âofficeââif it could even be called thatâopened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.
Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, âHey, kid.â
Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasnât cold per se, but he wasnât warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didnât really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very⊠eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things.Â
âHi, Mr. Park. Um⊠you wanted to talk to me?â
âYep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman⊠A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.â
âQueens?â Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. âYou mean, other than the usual stuff?â
âOther than the usual stuff,â Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the modelâa long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. âYou know what this is, right?â
Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. âThatâs⊠thatâs a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.â
Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. âThese stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. Theyâre an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.â
Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. âCleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company werenât able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits⊠thatâs where you come in.â
âM-me, Mr. Park?â
Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didnât know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.
âYou donât know who this is, right?â
Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. âYouâre up, tough guy.â
Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jenoâs shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious.Â
âJeno, thatâs Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, heâs one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. Heâs one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that thereâs going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of whatâs going on.â
âJust watch them, right?â Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. âJust watch. Donât engage unless you absolutely have to.â
âYou can do that, right?â Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. âBecause if not, then itâs totallyââ
âYeah, of course I can! Fridayâshit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?â
Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, âAround eight or nine.â
Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise heâd made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.
âAlright,â Jeno agreed, âIâll do it.â
Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.Â
âPerfect.âÂ
They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.
After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a womanâs purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.
Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that heâd immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things.Â
Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldnât find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when heâd left in a rush⊠and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.
âShit,â He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said sheâd be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure heâd locked it the night before, and it was too early. Peopleâs lights were still onâanyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed.Â
Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.
âJeno?â Your dad offered him a warm smile. âHey, kiddo, whatâs up?â
âHi, Mr. Kim,â Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. âI, um⊠I left my keys in my room this morning, and my auntâs working late, so⊠could I⊠maybe wait here? Y/Nâs home, right?âÂ
The man nodded. âOf course, of course. Come in!âÂ
Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.
âOkay.â Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as heâd done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.
"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want⊠have you eaten anything yet?â
âUh, I had a granola bar on the train, but thatâs it.â
âWe have some leftover pasta here, if you wantââ
âThanks, Mr. Kim, really! Iâm fine.â
Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. âSo, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.â
Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. âWell, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think Iâll just go to community college, or something.â
Your dad shook his head. âYouâre a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesnât give out internships to anybody. Thatâs your secret weapon.â
Jeno smiled. âWell, youâve got a point.âÂ
Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. âCome on, trying wonât hurt!â Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. âHave you been working out? Those muscles werenât there the last time I did that.â
Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. âOh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, soâŠâ
âJeno?âÂ
He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. Youâd changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. âWhat are you doing here?â You asked, with a curious smile.
His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. âTerrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.â
You grimaced. âBrutal, dude. You wanna come up?â Your eyes moved to your dad. âOr am I interrupting guy time?â
âOh, definitely,â Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. âYour dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.âÂ
You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out⊠We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."
"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."
"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."
Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit⊠unorthodox sometimes. Heâs been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."
Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.
"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."
But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"
He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out.Â
"So you left your keys."
Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I⊠I forgot. I'm so stupid."
You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry."Â
Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me."Â
Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjunâs headed upstate. Jaeminâs going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just⊠I don't want things to change."Â
Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"
You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult. You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.
"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."
Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I meanâ"
"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change⊠it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."
Jeno nodded. "This sucks."
"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"
Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.Â
"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"
You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."
"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."
"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?"Â
Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."
Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."
He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"
"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year."Â
Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."
Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.
"Deal."Â
You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."
The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist.Â
On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.
Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didnât help that there wasnât a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether.Â
When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.
âWhy is it always old, abandoned warehouses?â Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly.Â
âBeats me,â Doyoung sighed.Â
And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasnât sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. âWoah, Doyoung,â He murmured, âHold up.â
Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldnât be able to hear what was being said. âD.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.â
Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.
The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.
He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driverâs seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.
âAlright, thereâs Henry Duke,â He said, âThe one in the middle.â
 âGot it,â Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. âNow all we have to do is wait for the other party.â
âDid Junmyeonâs sources say anything about who it would be?â
âNo. They werenât able to find that out. Guess weâll just have to wait and see.â
Jenoâs eyes never left the man. âDo you think itâs something international?â
Doyoung sighed. âIâm not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.â
âGot it. I thinkâWait, here they come.âÂ
A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.
Jenoâs stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, âWhat the fuck,â as he registered the person leading them.Â
âWhat?â Doyoung asked, before realizing whatâwhoâhe was looking at. â...Is that my dad?â
âI think it is,â Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was.Â
âSo,â One of the men next to your dad said, âYou show us yours, weâll show you ours?â
Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. âI suppose. Reagan, get the case.â
One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. âIt caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.â
âWhat made you change your mind?â Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasnât your dad, and it didnât seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before.Â
âHonestly, Kim?â Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. âIt was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your⊠insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Parkâs alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness⊠hard to fake.â
Your dad huffed. âWeâre fucking tired of it.â
The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. âIf this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.â
Jeno frowned. âIâm not littleââ
âJeno, shut up!â Doyoung snapped.Â
ââAlright, then.â The man holding the briefcaseâReaganâclicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.
âYou know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business wonât be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, weâll be back here to negotiate.â
Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.
âYes, sir,â Your dad answered, nodding. âWe have the money here.â
âHand it over, then.â
That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.
âSo, we have company.â Duke didnât sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. âGet him.â
In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him.Â
âJeno, get out of there now,â Doyoung ordered.Â
âWhat about the guns?â Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. âThey know Iâm here, I might as well get them before I goââ
âNo! Jeno, listen to what Iâm telling you. Youâve done more than enough, and you need to let it gââ
Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jenoâs chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didnât shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came.Â
The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your fatherâs chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole heâd fallen out of, he couldnât rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground.Â
The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. âIâm sorry,â He gasped, âDoâDoyoung, I-Iâm sorry, I didnât want toââ
âJeno, you need to get out of there, now,â Doyoung said, voice raspy. âGO!âÂ
So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didnât blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where heâd decided to hide his backpack.
When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths.Â
Doyoungâs dadâyour dadâwas dead. And it was all his fault.Â
He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored peopleâs stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes heâd just about break down in the middle of the station.Â
As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could.Â
Heâd formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.
What would you say if you knew? He didnât want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw heâd gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.
[8:36 PM]
y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)
âFuck,â He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.
The walk was the longest five minute walk heâd ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.
After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.
His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. â...Y/N?â
You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadnât held both of you up.Â
âJeno,â You sobbed, âYouâre n-not go-onna believe it.â
He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.
âY/N, what happened?â
taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvsâ @crescentjenâ
#kwritersworldnet#nct angst#nct x reader#jeno x reader#jeno angst#jeno fluff#nct au#jeno au#kpop scenarios#kpop angst#kpop imagines#nct dream x reader#lee jeno x reader#my writing
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Part 1
Part 2
Hawks Mafia AU x Reader Pt. 3
After you got in from your brunch date, you washed your face of the little makeup you had on and change out of your outside clothes and into an oversized tee. You put on some tv and ended up falling asleep.
When you finally wake up, itâs 6:30.
âWow, it didnât even feel like I slept that long,â you say to yourself
Last night, you barely slept, so you knew that sleeping tonight would probably be an issue because of how long you slept this afternoon.
You decide to get up and take a shower, switching between hot and cold to wake yourself up and then leaving it on warm to finish. Once you get out, you put on some lotion and perfume.
You head to your bedroom, wrapped in your robe, to pick out some cute lounge wear since Hawks was coming over.
You take out a nude bra and leggings set and then a black bra and leggings set (think skims inspired) and hold them up in front of your mirror.
âMochi, what do you think?â
Mochi is your white Akita that you adopted after you got out of school. You had some left over money after you had paid everything for the month and you always wanted a dog since you left home and it made your time away less lonely.
Mochi is well behaved and loves to cuddle and is only temperamental when he feels there is something off.
He walks over to you and boops the nude set.
âI think so too buddy,â you say agreeing and put on the loungewear.
You also grab a chunky cardigan to wear over it.
You glance at your alarm clock and see that itâs 7:30.
You were starting to get a bit nervous because it had been a while since you had a man at your apartment and even though you knew Hawks would never do anything to take advantage of you based on his behavior thus far, you were still a bit anxious.
Time passes by and at 8 on the dot, you hear your door bell. You look at your phone to see Hawks standing outside with flowers and take out.
âComing,â you say excitedly and you go to answer the door
You take a deep breath and open the door.
âWow baby bird, you look stunning,â he says, almost breathless
âThank you,â you say shyly
âDo you need any help with those,â you say moving aside to let him into your apartment
âNo, I got it,â he says setting the food on the kitchen counter
He turns to face you, flowers in hand.
âThese are for you, humming bird,â he says handing them to you
âThank you, theyâre beautiful,â you say and then hug him
âThey donât have anything on you,â he says taking your hands in his and kissing them
You blush
âI bet you say that to all the girls,â you say sarcastically
âBelieve it or not kid, I donât go on that many dates. Iâve had flings and relationships that didnât mean anything, but youâre different. I can actually let my walls down with you. Your energy is very calming and I canât help but be relaxed around you,â he says honestly
You stand there, not knowing how to respond
âOh god, w-was that too much. Iâm sorry I-â
âNo, youâre fine,â you say cutting him off,âitâs just, Iâve never heard anyone be so honest about how they feel so confidently.â
âWell, in my line of work, honesty is the best policy,â he says with a cheeky smile
âYouâre so corny,â you say laughing
âYou just bring it out of me,kidâ
You sit down on one of your bar stools at the island in the kitchen and Hawks is on the other side, taking out all the food.
âItâs Thai. I hope thatâs okay,â he says worried
âItâs fine, I love Thai food,â you say smiling, which eases his nerves
âGood..Iâm glad, I was unsure of what to get on the way over here,â he says honestly
Just then, Mochi comes out from your room and makes a b-line for Hawks. Once there, Mochi starts sniffing him, making sure heâs not sus.
âMochi,â you say,âcâmere boy. Sorry, he usually doesnât just run up on people like that.â
âNo itâs okay. Heâs fine,â Hawks says,âIâm sure he was just checking on his mom and wondering who this weird guy is in his home.â
Mochi continues to sniff around Hawks and then he sits right next to and nudges Hawksâ hand with his nose.
âWhatâs up, buddy? You want some head pats,â he says in a baby/puppy voice
Mochi head tilts in response and places his head under Hawksâ hand.
Hawks pets Mochiâs head and ruffles the fur around his face.
You take a picture on your phone causing both Mochi and Hawks to snap their direction towards you.
You burst out laughing.
âYou guys look,so cute,â you say with a smile
âSorry kid, but Iâll have you know, I am devilishly handsome, not cute,â Hawks says
âMmm I still think youâre very cute,â you say egging him on
He walks around to your side of the island and turns you around in the bar stool, so that youâre facing him.
He stands in between your legs and puts his arms on either side of you, resting his hands on the counter. He lowers himself down to speak into your ear.
In a low voice he says,âBaby I promise you, I am anything but cute.â
He moves his attention back to your face, smirks and walks back to side of the island he was originally on.
âLetâs eat, honey,â he says and starts dishing out some of the food he brought over
âO-okay,â you say flustered
You do your best to bring yourself back to earth, but now you find yourself stealing glances of Hawks, wondering what came over him, what came over YOU, what else hasnât he shown you yet. You became more intrigued by the mysterious man that you are having dinner with.
For the rest of the night, you both spend it drinking and enjoying each otherâs company.
By the end of the night, you both finish a bottle and a half of wine and you feel yourself grow tired due to the alcohol taking over your body.
âHawks,â you say slurring the s and slightly loud, causing him to direct his attention towards you
âYes, baby bird,â he says massaging your temples, as your head lay on his shoulder
âWhy me? Youâre handsome and rich and seem well traveled, but Iâm just a regular girl. Why choose me to go on a date with,â you say quite timid
âBecause baby bird, as you so put it, you are a regular girl. Youâre nothing like women that Iâve been involved with, so to speak. Youâre kind, caring, smart, funny, good with animals and last, but certainly not least, youâre beautiful. Inside and out,â he says honestly
âHawks, you barely know me,â you say directly
âYes, but Iâve observed you long enough to know what kind of person you are,â he says
You look at him with a shocked expression.
âWoah, not like that,â he says frantically,âjust while you work, how you treated people. I learned you were someone worth having in my life and that night when I saw that guy harassing you, I just wanted to protect you. It was like this instinct kicked in and I just had to help. I couldnât bare the thought of what wouldâve happened had I or anybody for that matter, not have done something to help.â
You sit there stunned by his words. Next, you do the unthinkable, well for you.
You grab Hawks by his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss. Things start to get heated and Hawks stops you.
âBaby bird, itâs not that I donât want to, itâs just, if and when we get to this point of our relationship, I want it to be special for us. I donât want to treat you like a fling andâŠI have an early work day tomorrow, so sadly, I have to goâ he says
âLet me walk you out then,â you say, walking Hawks to your apartment door
You both make it to the door, when you suddenly stop him from opening it.
âWait,â you say, then stand on your toes and kiss him on the lips, wishing him a good night
âNight baby bird,â he says, the closes your door
âCâmon Mochi, letâs go to bed papas,â you say as you walk to your room, stretching from sitting on the couch for so long
You lay on your bed, then turn on your side and fall fast asleep.
Art by 10shiko
I hope yâall enjoyed todayâs chapter!! Sorry itâs sooooo late!! I will be better about getting things out faster or at least try to be as some times my day doesnât go according to how I want it to, but I will work hard for yâall!!
#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#boku no hero headcanons#my hero headcanons#keigo takami#takami keigo#keigo takami headcanons#takami keigo headcanon#keigo takami mha#keigo takami bnha#keigo takami x you#keigo takami x y/n#hawks bnha#hawks mha#hawks headcanon#hawks headcanons#hawks x y/n#hawks x you#hawks fluff#keigo takami fluff#takami keigo fluff#mafia!mha#mafia!bnha#mafia!hawks#mafia!au
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Female Led Relationship In Real Life
FLR explained, the woman has final say on all matters. The man accepts her wishes, her wants, and her punishments. This isnât the FLR most men dream about in real life which is sexual in nature; I can promise in real life it is much different and more rewarding long term for both parties involved.
For us, yes housework is my responsibility and it started out with her lowering the normal standard that she kept up so that I could get down a routine. Overtime Iâve gotten better and worked longer in rooms and areas that did not meet her standards. I want to say higher, but they were only higher standards to me when we were vanilla. I see now the importance of daily, weekly, and monthly deep cleaning chores and tasks. They really do make the house ready for guests at a moments notice without worry and it really lifts a level of stress off of her which reflects back into us and our time together.
Iâve been timed and my daily chores I can do in 20 mins if I hustle. Normally it takes me an hour in between making her breakfast or getting ready for or after my work. Either way my ârightâ to ask permission to play video games or have screentime on my phone is once my chores are complete. The weekly tasks Iâve broken down into days to accomplish them easier (for myself), to not get behind, and make sure I meet her expectation of cleanliness.
My fav part of our FLR which has led to has been more love, time, and attention towards her is a phone rule. Dinner at home or out, regardless with friends I have to ask permission to use my phone. Needless to say no one bats an eye as they think itâs great weâre not on our phones. I like to check google reviews and see photos of different food options at a restaurant and itâs almost always a yes when I ask and then I put it away or it goes in her purse. I will say getting to that level of discipline isnât easy.
In FLR I thrived with any new rules or expectations as soon as Goddess Amy figured out the best punishments that one changed my perspective and made me do risk/reward calculations before taking an action. What worked for her and didnât cause her too much additional time away from what she enjoyed and was highly effective for me was corner time (30+ mins sometimes) and marking down in my shared chore app her grievances, which I too could see and were addressed with the paddle when she so decided. Unlike fantasy FLR there is nothing fun about having your pants around your ankles and being met with a firm paddle. She knows once Iâm over ten that each and everyone will be remembered throughly. She has taken it a step further and makes me recite while Iâm being paddled. Again not sexy but to make sure i know what I did and what I should do again.
Writing lines or the same thing over and over on paper takes a lot of time and she doesnât except sloppy work. When that comes up I know Iâm metaphorically fucked. Itâs the equivalent of a cold shoulder when we were vanilla and I know a conversation is coming.
FLR isnât all chores and sex. Itâs a means to have a more loving and quality filled relationship. Itâs non-standard but really does the trick for us. Of note when youâve been met with consequences for falling short on expectations it really does change you behavior and moments vanilla you might want to give constructive feedback or argue a point of view. In FLR skip it and if you donât like the point/topic/discussion try and bring it up at the end of the day or week, and if you really want ask if she wants feedback and if she says yes then maybe; otherwise wait until the end of the day or week.
In real-life FLR I can only give my perspective and maybe some of hers. For me Iâd say the most important part is the man accepting she has the authority. Leadership isnât all about being right, itâs about inspiring follow-ship naturally and accomplishing shared goals of the individuals under you and for the organization. Goddess Amy does that wonderfully and this is where you could say she understands my kinks (motivation) and pessimistic characteristics (frictions). She has a firm grasps on all things me and has goals for me, expectations for herself, our house, and our family. FLR works well for us because I accept and want her authority and she cares about all of the above to ensure each and everyday we move forward and improve. Itâs not like the kink where things are expected to be absolutely perfect. She knows what I can handle and pushes the bubble little by little until itâs âperfectâ, I look back and think wow what a difference I never thought this was possible.
Have you heard the phrase âIf mama ainât happy, ainât nobody happy. If daddy ainât happy donât nobody care. â That phrase sums up FLR. This ties in with communication and roles of FLR. She can easily say be ready we are going out and that means get in nice clothes and get everything ready to go or she can say sheâs going out, which means I have the house to myself and if Iâm lucky Iâll be given permission to watch TV or play games on my laptop. This ties in with staying on top of the routine she has set for me and other rules like no screentime without the chores being done. Most times Iâm fortunate enough to get sceentime when I have the house to myself and sometimes itâs an opportunity for me to address a writing assignment she would like or an addtional chore. Rarely does it include me playing and sending pictures while she is out and about, but either way Iâm always responsive and accept what she chooses as I know and believe it has a purpose. I just donât sometimes fully understand it until later on down the road.
Real-life FLR the man only does what she wants and in ours she has retained meal prep for us and weekday dinners. The weekends I get to grill out and make her meals. Dishes are easy in our house. After a meal we clear the table, some things into rubber ware, some things rinsed in the sink and then into the dishwasher. We have a sign for clean/dirty and the dishwasher gets ran at night once full every couple of days and per my checklist is emptied or check daily.
A big benefit for her is me seeking ways to earn extra privileges ultimately by going out of my way to be on my best behavior, pampering her with love, surprises, and foot rubs. Some days she surprises me with the same to include paid massages and also breakfast in bed.
In public we appear vanilla, with the exception that I may secretly ask permission to have a soda or bend our diet plan a bit with a dessert. Iâve found asking before we go out with friends is better and also she has coded eye brows and looks which convey a silent approval or disapproval as I talk through what I might want when asked.
In addition to not meal prepping every meal since she loves cooking and helping us meet our fitness goals there are a few other things she retains control of. One is laundry, not because she loves it but because only she understands our walk in closet system for her stuff. Every morning I make sure everything is in the hamper and check the dryer- going through and pulling clothes tout of the dryer and separating out her dresses, tops, panties, etc in a way that makes it faster for her to put away herself, along with hanging and putting away all of my clothes neatly. Second the babyâs room there is a fancy rug which gets cleaned a certain way thatâs off limits to me. I didnât ask why and daily just make sure everything is clean and organized. Unlike fantasy FLR you wonât see me begging to do more chores, but you will see me finding areas which I add to my daily to keep off my monthly and deep clean routine to save myself time another day but just maintaining the area better. One example for this is dusting, yes the dreaded dusting. Once despised, I now prefer to address it per room per weekday versus all at once on the weekend. For me itâs less tedious when mixed in with picking up toys, vacuuming, and wiping down surfaces versus a whole hour of it another day.
To end this long discussion one thing that I like most about our FLR is despite me, the man not having final decision is that she gets my feedback 9 times out of 10 before making the final decision. I always feel heard and understood even when I donât get what I wanted on most big topics, this isnât the case with little chores or screentime expectations.
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The Way to a Hobbitâs Heart
Thorin Oakenshield x Bilbo Baggins (Bagginshield)
Requested: Yes and no! This piece is part of âThe Hobbit Discord Serverâs Holiday Gift Exchange 2020âł and is my gift to @misfit-with-a-penâ đ
Warnings: oh my goodness, all the fluff! I canât! Also Sassy Bilbo because itâs still me who wrote this :)Â
Summary: When Bilbo enjoys a nice afternoon walk in the Shire, he notices a smell... A rather foul smell, if he was honest. When he comes closer to his home, the smell seems to intensify. It couldn't come from his house now, could it? Because Thorin was home.... Alone. Oh dear!
A/N: This story couldnât exist without the help of @xxbyimmâ! She is such an amazing and fantastic person and always ready to listen to me rant about ideas, complaining about everything and gave me TONS of advice on top of that. How wonderful is that?
Bilbo always favored late afternoon walks over morning strolls.
Though he knew most of his neighbors wouldnât agree with him and probably would think of him as even more peculiar than they already did if they knew, he just couldnât help himself.Â
You see, it was the way the sun hung low in the sky, giving everything it shone upon a warm golden glow. Furthermore, as most of the hobbit community was too occupied prepping the most important meals of the day, the town was practically deserted.
This meant Bilbo could enjoy the beautiful sceneries in peace without having to get involved in friendly banter and polite greetings. And finally - the temperature was nor too warm or too cold, which was just perfect.Â
But there was nothing better than an afternoon walk in early spring. Birds were building their nest, flying past his head with twigs in their little beaks.Â
It reminded him of that one time a thrush had landed on Lobeliaâs straw hat and had absolutely wrecked the damn thing. It took her a while to notice and Bilbo had had the greatest difficulty in keeping a straight face. She went running through the Shire afterwards, screaming about a vicious bird attack. Since that day he couldnât help but snicker every time he saw a thrush.
Yes, Bilbo loved his walks indeed. But he loved his home just as much.
It wouldnât be long before any respectable Hobbit started working in their garden again after the winter break and every yard and patio would get overflowed with a soft and subtly sweet flowery scent. It wasnât any different in his garden.Â
The flower buds of the early bloomers were starting to show, some of them already in their lovely, bright colours. Just a few more days and he could bury his nose in the daffodils, tulips or primroses, taking in their flowery scent.  It was a moment Bilbo looked forward to every single year, but now he could finally share it with his husband Thorin.Â
To everyoneâs surprise, this grumpy dwarf had warmed up to the art of gardening. Under Bilboâs patient supervision, they were able to turn their neglected patch of land into the beautiful garden it was today. Â
Bilbo smiled to himself at the thought of his husband. He came a long way to get here... Both of them did. Literally and figuratively.Â
Thorin had been under a lot of stress for a long time without barely any chance to breathe: the rebuilding of Erebor, restoring trade agreements, bringing his people back to the mountain, ⊠It never stopped and he was close to getting a burn-out.
Bilbo had seen it coming from miles away and had raised the alarm on Thorinâs health. Bilboâs home in the Shire proved to be the perfect place to get a much needed break from ruling a Kingdom. Â
The mountain was in good hands with FĂli and KĂli as his advisor - Balin was still there to keep an eye on them - and the peace and quiet of the Shire was wearing off on Thorin. He was finally able to relax and enjoy the time with Bilbo.Even so, they couldnât stay away forever and theyâd made plans to return to the mountain before the annual Durinâs Day celebration. Â
That didnât mean they couldnât enjoy the time that was still left.
Bilbo continued his way on the path that would eventually lead him back to his home, he stopped when he smelled something odd. He sniffed a few times, tilting his head sideways. What in theâŠ? Â
Bilbo couldnât tell what the smell reminded him of, and yet it somehow seemed familiar. Was Lobelia trying to burn down her house again with another attempt at copying his famous rabbit stew?Â
The closer he got to his home, the stronger the scent became. It couldnât come from his house now, could it? Thorin was home so nothing serious could have happened.
Bilboâs eyes widened. Â
Thorin was home⊠alone. Â
âOh dear,â he murmured.
Thorin was not yet entirely used to living like a hobbit, still adjusting to life in the Shire. The more delicate, joie-de-vivre way of life that suited the hobbits didnât always go well with the sturdy, rather head-on approach and maybe a tad brute way of the Dwarrows. He definitely wasnât the domestic type. Yet.
Bilbo hurried up the lane to his front yard, struggled to open the gate in his haste and made his way inside. When the door closed behind him, it felt like someone had slapped him in the face.
Oh yeah, the smell definitely came out of his house. He coughed a few times, and his eyes started to water. He completely missed the leftover trails of smoke near the ceiling, and that was maybe for the better.Â
âThorin?â he squeaked between coughs. âLove?â
No answer. Was he even here? And what was that pungent smell? It almost smelled like an onion died a painful death and was left to rot! But with added spices. Now he almost wished it was Lobeliaâs cooking instead...Â
He left the entrance hall and stepped further into their home, making his way to the study. If Thorin was home, he would probably be there. Bilbo hoped to find his other half hunched over a book, or too focused on writing a letter to his nephews to hear his calls. Not that he didnât trust Thorin to find his way back home on his own⊠okay fine, maybe he didnât. Â
Before he reached the study, his eye fell on the pantry. A rare curse escaped his mouth.
Empty jars, most of them tipped over, crumbs and pieces of vegetables on the ground together with a puddle of liquid that Bilbo wasnât too keen on investigating further.Â
He stood frozen in the round doorway. What had happened?Â
Flashbacks of that one fateful night when the company had barged in - uninvited might he add - and raided his kitchen and pantry flooded his mind.
Could they...?
No, he shook his head. It was too quiet for the company to be here. Plus Thorin would have mentioned it. There were no secrets between them. Not anymore. Â
He crossed the hallway and entered his kitchen. Or rather, what was left of it.
If he thought his pantry was raided, it was nothing in comparison to his kitchen. There were dirty pots and pans all over the place, as if the dishes hadnât been done in weeks. Most of the cabinets were opened, the contents of the shelves in disarray or scattered over the counter. A lot of food made it to the floor as well, and it seemed like someone had tried to clean it up by shoving it to one side of the kitchen. Â
It looked like Thorin had tried to make something for dinner. Or a snack maybe? At least, he hoped it was Thorin who wrecked the kitchen. Because there wasnât a single hair on his feet that would even consider cleaning this up himself!Â
âThorin, I really do love you but you got to learn to clean up after yourself,â Bilbo muttered in frustration when he picked up a dirty kitchen rag from the floor.Â
âIâll keep that in mind,â a low voice sounded behind him. Â
Bilbo swirled around and he forgot to breathe for a second.
There, in the doorway of the dining room, stood Thorin in just his dark blue tunic and black breeches, barefoot and an apron tied around his hips. A towel carelessly thrown over his shoulder and a casserole in his hands made it look like he belonged in a kitchen. But Bilbo knew better.Â
The dwarf himself looked like a complete snack. If it wasnât for the state of the kitchen and the foul smell still filling his nostrils, he wouldâve jumped him without a second thought.
No, scratch the snack! His husband was a full five course meal. Bilbo took a deep breath. And by Durinâs beard, was he hungry...Â
Thorin lifted the pot a little. Bilbo stepped out of the way so he could pass.
âIt just needs a little more time on the fire.â
It didnât. It really, really didnât.Â
That became abundantly clear when Thorin lifted the lid so he could stir in what looked like stew, and Bilbo had to grab the counter to steady himself.
Oh, well, at least now I know where that smell comes from, he thought. Breathe through your mouth, thatâs the key!Â
âYou know, if you didnât like my cooking, you couldâve just told me,â Bilbo joked while he took the pot off the fire again in an effort to save what could be saved, but not before he put the lid back on. âI think this is done, love.â
âAre you sure?â Thorin chuckled. The sound reverberated in his chest and it made Bilboâs stomach flip. It was one of his favourite sounds and it still did something to him every time he heard it.Â
âI wanted to repay you for taking such good care of me,â he said. âSo I made us dinner.â
âYou did?â Bilbo asked, endeared by the gesture but honestly, also a little afraid for his life by now. âMarvellous!â
âGo and take a seat at the table, Iâll be right there,â Thorin hummed and he gestured towards the dining room. Â
Thorin came out of the kitchen and placed the pot in the middle of the table and wiped his hands on the apron. His eyes fell on Bilbo who still stood a bit to the side. Â
When he entered the dining room Bilbo froze, stunned by what he saw.Â
Thorin had set the table beautifully and had paid extra attention to details, the way Bilbo liked. Freshly picked flowers from their garden stood proudly in a white porcelain vase, napkins neatly folded on the right side of the plate and he had used Bilboâs motherâs pottery. He really went out of his way for this.Â
âIs it not to your liking?â Thorin asked, a slight tremble in his voice. âIf itâs about the mess in the kitchen, I promise Iâll clean it up later.â
He was nervous, Bilbo realised when he looked at Thorin. The King under the Mountain who could face multiple armies with only twelve companions without a second thought or hint of fear was almost shaking with nerves because he had made dinner for his lover. It was adorable. Â
âItâs lovely, Thorin. Really, it is,â he assured him, while Thorin pulled a chair from under the table so Bilbo could sit down. âI didnât expect it, thatâs all.âÂ
Thorin quickly made his way to the other side of the table and filled the mugs with ale and the glasses with wine. Bilbo however, eyed the food on the table cautiously.Â
To be fair, from a distance it looked decent. There were carrots, mashed potatoes, other vegetables that he couldnât quite name at first sight but seemed okay, bread,⊠And the pot of stew. On the corner of the table stood a bowl of what he suspected was some kind of gravy, but the chunks in it made him doubtful.Â
He took some of everything on his plate and tried to keep it together when the aroma of the stew filled his nostrils once more.
Thorin looked at him expectantly.Â
The things one does for the one they love, Bilbo thought while he took a deep breath and tried the stew. Oh dear, it tasted exactly like it smelled!
He tried to swallow it as fast as he could without a lot of chewing. His hand flew to his glass of wine and with a large gulp of the red substance his food finally went down. Â
âIs there something wrong?â
âNo! No, itâs⊠well, itâs a little hot,â he explained. That wasnât exactly a lie.Â
He tried to find the correct words to let him know cooking maybe wasnât his strong point, but decided to change the subject instead. âHave you heard from FĂli yet?â
Thorin shook his head.  âI did not. It hasnât been that long since I sent my last letter. Give him some time.â
He took a sip from his glass of wine. âBut tell me about your afternoon, did you enjoy your walk?âÂ
Bilbo was relieved he could talk for a while - and avoid taking another bite - and told Thorin about his walk and how he was planning on asking old master Worrywort what he did to his wood poppies to get them so big and bright.
While he was listening intently, Thorin took a first bite of his homemade stew.
The minute he closed his mouth, his eyes widened and he almost choked on the meat. He let his fork drop on the plate with a loud clatter, a fist against his lips while he tried really hard to swallow the food.
Bilbo didnât know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him. He decided on a neutral expression, like it was the most normal thing in the world for a person to choke on a spoonful of stew. Â
Thorin brought the napkin to his mouth and wiped the tears out of his eyes, still panting from the effort.
âMahal, why didnât you say anything?â he groaned.
Bilbo eyed him carefully, not wanting to hurt Thorinâs feelings. He worked so hard to prepare all this, well, you couldnât exactly call it foodâŠ
âAbout what?â he tried, gathering his courage and taking another spoonful.Â
âThe food! I saw you eat it!â Thorin murmured, his face distorting in absolute horror as he watched his husband trying his best to process another bite.
âPlease donât. I canât believe you want to take another bite!âÂ
âYou made this for me, of course Iâm going to eat it,â Bilbo said, smiling at him. Please donât make me eat it again, Bilbo pleaded internally.Â
âTo be honest, I donât even think Bombur would touch this,â Bilbo added.
âThat bad, huh?â he laughed. âWho am I kidding, of course it is, I tasted it. I still taste it!â
He took his mug of ale and chugged it down in one go. When he placed it on the table again with a thud, his expression had changed into defeat.
âI know you love your meals and this isnâtâŠâ he rose from his chair. âThis is not a meal worthy of any hobbit, let alone Bilbo Baggins.â
With the majesty only a true dwarven king can muster, Thorin strode from the dining room towards the kitchen. Bilbo shuffled in his seat, pondering what had happened before hurrying behind his One.
The sight that greeted him made his heart clench. Thorin had started cleaning up the mess, his back to the door, head low and shoulders slumped. Bilbo could see he was distraught and clearly wounded in his pride.Â
In a few strides Bilbo stood behind his husband and threw his arms around him, giving a little squeeze.
âDonât you ever think what you do isnât enough. The fact that you went through all this trouble for me, means more to me than youâll ever know,â Bilbo mumbled into Thorinâs neck before he placed a featherlight kiss there, which elicited a groan out of the Kingâs chest.
Thorin turned around and wanted to return the favor, but Bilbo stopped him.Â
âNo, no, no, Thorin. First we need to clean up this mess. Iâll help you.â
After an hour of cleaning, they sat on a spotless kitchen floor, looking over their work proudly.
âWe make a great team, you and me,â Thorin said.
Bilbo rested his head on Thorinâs shoulder and sighed contentedly.
âCan you promise me one thing though?â
âWhatâs that?â Thorin wondered.
âPlease leave the cooking to me?â
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I Crave Annihilation (P.3)
Title: I Crave Annihilation (Part Three) Summary: Â Fem!Reader x Mafia!Dark Tony Stark. Tony works for the readerâs very influential politician father moving guns and drugs. She starts flirting with him and he is returning the vibes. She moves into her own place out of her parentâs house and texts him to come save her from a house party. Smut ensues. Words: 3,069 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, HUGE age difference, angst, violence, infidelity, possessive behavior
Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
âHeâs here,â your mother whispered in your ear as you rinsed the dishes from the counter.
You had gone immediately into the house instead of into the back yard, Gabriel following you inside. He had held out the food he had brought to her and she thanked him. The two of you got under her skin when you two got together at these things but she loved him deeply. He was one of your best friends still. He had walked off towards the liquor cabinet when your mum approached to whisper to you.
âI know,â you told her, not taking your eyes off the dishes.
âHave you seen him?â
âNo. I came straight in here. Jackson went out there though. Iâm sure Steve will be all too ready to point out to Tony who he is.â
Your mother looked at you worriedly, âHas Steve been bothering you?â
âNo. I just know heâs keeping tabs.â
ââKeeping tabsââŠâ she muttered, shaking her head. âYou cannot let him get back underneath your skin.â
âMum, heâs always been under my skin. I feel Iâve just been trying to fill a void.â You noticed the way she was looking at you and you shrugged, âItâs why I donât want to go out there. Because Iâll see him⊠AndâŠâ
She shook her head and said crossly, âI told you⊠I warned you.â
âAre you really going to blame me for feeling this way? You still ended up with dad.â She faltered and you said, âNo, I put that together a long while ago. Dad is twelve years older than you!â
âThatâs different.â
You reached forward and turned the water off, to stand up and face her fully. âThatâs different? Then why did you bring it up that night when you found us?â
âHeâs almost twenty years older than you!â
âAnd?â
âDonât you love Jackson?â
âOf course I do!â
âThen why would you even entertain the idea?â she sounded exasperated.
âYou and dad are more similar to me and him than you are giving me credit for.â
Your mum snapped, âNo, I know that. You just have a chance with Jackson.â
âYou seem perfectly fine,â you hissed back at her.
âMoney softens the blow, Y/N. It doesnât solve everything.â
âIâm sorry for you that youâve been miserable for so long.â
âIâm not miserable.â
âYou are sure sounding like it!â
âI just⊠Jackson is good. Jackson treats you like an equal! Yes, Iâm happy with your father but I wish he would also treat me like I was his partner rather than just his wife. Jackson gives you that. Tony wouldnât!â
You paused before asking, âIs that why you were gone all the time?â
âWhat?â she asked, giving you a shocked look.
âYou were always gone. It was always just me and dad. Or me and the nanny.â She opened her mouth to say something but apparently she could not think of anything and she closed it again. You sighed, âIt was always me and dad⊠you were always gone. On some trip. Just at a spa retreat. I never had you around until suddenly in my teens when you realized I had blossomed.â
âBecause I had to protect you.â She sounded so self-righteous.
âAnd you did for years. From the sidelines. Since I was what, 14?â You straightened up seeing Gabriel was coming back from the other room and said quickly and quietly, âIâm going to steer clear of him as much as I can, mum. If thatâs what youâre worried about. I do love Jackson.â
Gabriel said, âMom, I found your favorite rum! Should we make daiquiris?â
Donning a perfect mask and pulling away from you, your mum said, âThat sounds lovely, Gabriel.â
With a wink, Gabriel said, âThatâs what I always try to be for you. Youâre my favorite.â
âSuck up,â your mother teased, shooting another glance at you before walking away and following him to the blender. âThere are strawberries in the fridge, love.â
<><><>
âWell, sheâs here,â Steve said, before taking a long drag of his cigarette. âAt least somewhere because Jacksons here.â He pointed in the general direction quick. Tony looked Jackson over and simpered. Steve smirked in return and said, âYeah, thatâs the competition.â
âHe makes her happy though according to you which is pretty big competition,â Tony replied, bringing his own cigarette up to his lips and taking a long drag.
The two of them shut up as Bucky and Sam came back to the table. Bucky had been in prison with Tony as well as Thor and he had not had to confide to them about the relationship because Steve had been on the outside keeping an eye on Y/N for him. They fell back into conversation sans her for a while.
Then Y/N walked out with another guy. He drank her in slowly. She had aged, obviously. But she was still as gorgeous as ever. His eyes ran up her body, trailing over her short, high waisted shorts. He saw she was looking at him and she quickly looked away, turning her attention to the guy at her side again. Tony cocked his head, recognition coming on.
âIs thatâŠâ he said to Steve under his breath. Steve looked at Tony for an explanation and Tony said, âThat guy from that bar. That one time.â
âYep. Gabriel. Theyâve been friends since college. You think Jackson is gonna be the problem to get her alone? No, itâs going to be Gabriel.â He stopped for a moment before chuckling and saying louder so Bucky and Sam could hear to not arouse suspicion about their whispering, âAnd Rebecca is already on them.â
âHow do you mean?â Tony asked, watching Rebecca stop on a dime and turn back to stare them whispering between each other.
âThey always get into trouble,â Steve explained. âOne year, she asked Y/N to help her with the food and she was already too drunk to do it and she paid one of her friendâs to do it because her and Gabriel had already been day drinking. They took Molly another year. Gabriel fell off the table he was dancing on and rolled his ankle. Last year⊠they took some shrooms and disappeared for hours and Rebecca found them in the far back lying amongst the rocks, still high off their asses watching the stars.â He snorted seeing her point at the two of them threateningly. âYet, she coddles the shit out of him and loves him to death. Look at them and their matching daiquiris.â
<><><>
He had sunglasses on but the way his head was pointed, you knew he was looking at you. Fuck. He had an undercut now, nice glasses, and his shirt unbuttoned, leaning back in the chair without a care. You made sure you did not linger too long on him before turning your eyes away. But you knew it had already been a couple seconds too long no matter how long it was because as soon as he had you in his sights, and he knew he had you, that was endgame.
Gabriel was there and tugged on your arm. He pulled you towards the covered area with the grills where your dad and Thor were cooking. He looked in his element, fresh out of prison and enjoying doing this again.
âI got someâŠâ Gabriel caught your attention again. He gestured snorting and your eyebrows rose in response and he grinned. âWhen do you wanna?â
âI donât know if we should thoughâŠ.â you said trailing off, shooting a quick look and finding Tony still watching you. You should be on your toes tonight⊠but maybe it would make it that much easier to just brush it off if something did happenâŠ
âWhat? Come on! This is the perfect time! Thereâs a lot of people around and itâs not likeââ
âWhat are you two whispering about?â your mum asked, startling the two of you. She saw you two jump too before looking at her and she leveled the two of you with a threatening glare. She was carrying a plate of cut vegetables in one hand, her drink in the other, obviously about to go put them out on one of the tables.
âNothing, mum,â you and Gabriel said in unison.
âWhat?â you asked innocently when she was still silent after a couple moments.
âI donât trust either of you. Not after last year.â
Right. The shrooms. And she had found the two of you lying between two of the rocks in the back part of the garden, giggling, half naked.
âI sincerely apologize for that. Still. Can I send you a third bouquet of orchids?â Gabriel said, giving her a curt bow, smiling sheepishly. He held up his drink at her in surrender.
Your mumâs mouth twitched ever so slightly, holding back a smile. She adored Gabriel but she did mean business. She did not want to babysit again this year. Her finger left her glass and she pointed between the two of you and said, âNo funny business this year. Especially you, Y/N. Keep your head on straight.â
You held back a scowl at the comment. Gabriel looked confused for a moment and you said as she walked off, âSheâs right. I should just stick to drinks.â
âBitch, Iââ
âIâll do it with you next weekend, Promise! We should give her a break for one year.â
Gabriel groaned and took a long drink of his daiquiri. âFine! Iâll go ask Jackson to share his bud. Buzzkill! Both of you!â
<><><>
In your old bedroom that you and Jackson were going to sleep in, you tore your shirt off and your swim suit top, tossing them carelessly on the bed. It was getting cold outside and you were ready to change into your pajamas and a sweatshirt. You heard the door open and close behind you as you reached for your pajama top. Without turning around, you said, âI thought you guys were going to stay in the hot tub for a little bit longer.â
âYour hair is different.â
Whipping around, holding your shirt up against your bare chest, you found Tony standing there, hands in his pockets. He was blocking your way to the door, looking confident as ever. Prison had only given him time to work out, as you could plainly see from his open shirt, and apparently had done nothing for his domineering personality. He was still bold as ever, showing up here in your room knowing you were changing when your husband was outside.
âTony!â you hissed, mortified. âGet out!â
He smirked at your attempt to shield your nudeness from him. âI havenât seen it in a very long time, but still, is there really any reason to be modest around me? I mean, Iâve been in every holeââ
âShut up!â you told him furiously â embarrassed, really â, turning away from him, and throwing your shirt over your head. You heard him move and you turned back around quickly finding him closing the space between the two of you and you stood your ground. âYou shouldnât be in here!â
He cocked his head, his face scrunched in vexation. âSo, youâve only been teasing me all night?â
ââTeasingâ? What are you going on about?â you said, trying to play dumb.
âSweet pea, your sneaky glances and putting yourself in my line of sight did not go unnoticed. Youâre not subtle, not to me. We played that game for years if you care to recall. Almost three to be exact. The only thing I regret is not going in for you sooner so we wouldâve had more time together in the sack. I had a plethora of memories to dive into while I was incarcerated but shit, I wouldâve enjoyed more.â He stepped closer and this time you did take a step back and you did not miss his fleeting amusement. He leaned in closer and said, âI know your games and your little tantalizing behaviors.â
The drunker you had gotten throughout the night, the more you found yourself slipping into your old ways. He was correct about that history between the two of you. That first night you had seen him when you were in the pool and since then, you had always tried to be in his sights and it had paid off for you. Tonight, you had found yourself drawn back, adjusting your swimsuit where you knew he could see and sitting in the chairs where he could keep his eye on you. It had been a conscious decision. You hated yourself for it, how much you craved him and his attention still. You were stuck between the life you currently were leading and being dragged back into your relationship with him. Stealing those glances to see if he was looking had only fueled the fire more because he had been watching you like a hawk. Every time you had looked his way, especially when it had gotten dark and his glasses had come off, you caught him always watching your movement. He had looked hungry, just like he looked now.
What your mother said came back to you then, remembering how Jackson treated you versus how she believed â and you knew deep down â Tony would. You hated you wanted Tony so badly and simultaneously craved the partnership you had with Jackson.
âIâm sorry if you got the wrong idea, but Tony, Iâm married now,â you said, mustering more calm in your tone than you actually felt.
Tony looked tickled by that response and you gritted your teeth, knowing he was going to brush you off. And he did. âYeah, Iâm happy he was keeping you well and safe for me. You look amazing. I am beyond impressed.â He raised his hand, his hand ghosting down your side to grip at your waist. You tried to flinch away, but his other hand shot up and held you on your other side, preventing you from moving back. His thumbs caressed as he told you, âBut youâre still mine, donât act like youâve forgotten.â
âYou canât just order me to divorce my husband!â you told him defensively.
âWho said anything about divorce so soon?â Tony chuckled. It was foreboding the way he said âso soonâ. It was all too clear where he wanted this to go. âI was just starting out with the courteous approach of inserting myself into the situation. Letting it play out.â
God, you hated his ego but fuck if you were not responding in like. Still, you fought against it and tried to hide it. ââCourteousâ. Cute, Tony.â You leaned in and said, âIf you want tits and pussy, you can go on the Boulevard. Itâs about twenty minutes away.â
You pushed his hands down away from you and started to turn away, to reach for your sweatshirt. But his grasp was tight on your arm, yanking you back roughly. You gasped as your noses brushed, before he let you go back a couple inches. You smelled the bourbon on his breath, something you used to relish in.
âIâm not fucking around, Y/N. Youâre coming back to me,â he growled. He pulled away even more and looked at you disappointed. He shook his head slightly and said, âYou didnât even come visit.â
That cut deep, unexpected by you. He actually looked hurt.
âI couldnât! You know I couldnât leave the state withoutââ
His demeanor changed in the blink of an eye, again.
âNo, this is where you zip it. Okay? The adult is talking,â Tony snapped, his fingers digging into your arm. He melted you right back down to the naĂŻve girl you had been. âYouâve had your fun. Seven years of it actually while I was rotting away in a cell. Iâm glad you got to make house and have good dick. And by glad, I mean I am monumentally fucking pissed off.â The words spit like venom. âI had to sit there day after day thinking about how you just threw it away, so easily. I was so disappointed in you, precious. How you could just leave me there like that, after all I did for you?â
Pitifully, you started, âTony, youâre scaringââ
âOh, donât use that as an excuse! Donât play victim! Itâs not cute, Y/N. Stop wasting both our time. You know you want it as bad as I do. I get you feel guilty about your little husband but he was just a placeholder until I got back.â His eyes flashed and his hand left your arm, wrapping around your waist to hold you close. His eyes ran over your face and he leaned like he was going to kiss you and you blinked, watching him closely. He stopped himself at the last second though, running his tongue along his lips. His hand slipped down to your ass, cupping. âI want you around me so badly. So badly. Iâve dreamt about that cunt for years.â Your heart picked up pace. âIâve dreamt about having you for so long, precious. Donât deny me this. Not after everything I went through. Especially without you there for comfort.â
You were quiet, your lips parted in surprise, staring at him. His fingers flexed on your back after a few moments at your silence. His tone was firm when he told you, âYouâre getting in that Uber with me. You understand me?â
An Uber? He was going to make you leave here?
âWe canât just leave. My mumââ
âYeah, your mom is passed out. Or should be soon.â
âWhat? I--â
âShe likes her daiquiris way too much and opioids.â Tony snorted and added with a laugh, âGiving you shit for having sex and she canât even stay sober.â He got closer  again and said, âAnd your husband is way too high, heâs gonna pass out soon. Iâm sure we can make a story up between now and whenever his ass wakes up. I have a lot of time to make up for, so the longer you stand in front of me like a fish gaping at me, the more time you wasted. Iâm already ordering the ride as soon as I can take my hands off you.â He squeezed his hand once more on your ass before telling you, âWhat you craved in us you wonât find in him. If you did, you wouldnât still be standing here.â
~~~
Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld
Fic tags: @buttercandy16 @esistmon @flawra16
#tony stark x reader#dark tony stark#dark!tony stark#mob tony stark#dark marvel fic#dark marvel#my shit
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10 years with Jungkook
California
You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love?Â
Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.
Words:Â 4600
Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.
It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up.Â
The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money.Â
Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity.Â
Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personalâŠone in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.
The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.
Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldnât he write to you?
It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?
You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life?Â
It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free.Â
Iâm feeling low, I donât know who I am, only who Iâm supposed to be.
What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.
Does she even think about me?
It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, itâs not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I canât. Iâve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now Iâm destined to keep her at an armâs length so sheâll never know the price I paid.
How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?
Iâve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about itâŠ
~When I see you smile in the screen
Youâre good at everything
Youâre just perfect
Feels like I'veâ
neverâ
been you
Do youâ
even see me?
Do you know whoâ
I am?
Or how do I look now?
You donât like me like that
I want to be your decalcomania~
Iâm afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.
JK
Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day.Â
"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"Â Â
Reading the description on the wall youâd both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard. Â
California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer.Â
It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.
Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.
Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. âThis is Jeongguk.âÂ
He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.
Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.
He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldnât sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent.Â
Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways.Â
Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members. Heâd facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.
They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,â and a few lines of lyrics heâd written.
You didnât know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to. Â
Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.
Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if youâd be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.
He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.
While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.
"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.
You were laying in each otherâs arms cuddling on his bed. Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.
"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."
You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret.Â
"Iâve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now Iâm stuck. I have everything I wanted and Iâm not allowed to share it with you."
His arms gripped you tighter.
"Iâm sorry, this is a terrible confession. I donât expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, youâre the only girl Iâve ever loved and there wonât be anybody else, ever."Â
Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.
He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too. Â
LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him.Â
A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later.Â
"Congratulations on your new house in LA!
I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, itâs hard living with others sometimes.
Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.
Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldnât miss the colors?
Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.
I miss you, I miss me⊠the me I am when I get to be with you.
We're coming back in October for a few days and Iâm hoping I can see you, Iâm lonely already.  Â
Jeongguk
~Wonât you please stay in dreams
I can hear the sea from far away
Across the dream, over the bush
Go there where it becomes clear
Take my hands now
You are the cause of my euphoria
When Iâm with you, Iâm in utopia~
By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.
Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasnât late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.
It was Namjoonâs job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotelâs back receiving door.Â
Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldnât give now to see that smile again.
Barely giving him time to get in youâd sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.
"Kookie, I hope youâre ready for the best day of your life! Weâre going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel youâre staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"
He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna?Â
Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.
Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you werenât looking. If you werenât sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.
Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I canât believe you brought me here."
Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break youâd make your way to the tree for some time alone, together.Â
With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.
Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.
Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.
Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him.Â
"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."
You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it.Â
The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.
"Kookie, this isnât Korea, you donât have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."
He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.
Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.
The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.
Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.
"My god Guk, look at your abs!"
He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.
"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.
But you didnât, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldnât move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.
Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.
"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never.Â
Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.
"I love you," you whispered.
Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing youâd ever seen.
It didnât last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, youâd been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.
"Iâm so sorry Jungkook, I didnât mean for you to get in trouble."
His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.
"You promised I wouldnât be going back to my hotel tonight, letâs get out of here."
If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now? Â
The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.
It wasnât just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.
Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.
"Iâve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave Iâm not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that wonât be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I donât want you to regret anything. "Â
Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.
"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I canât live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."
He rested his head against your chest, "Youâll always be mine."
His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them.Â
Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.
"Iâve never done this before," he confessed.
"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."
More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found itâs home between your legs.
He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldnât be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.
"It feels good Kookie, pleaseâŠ"
You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.
"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."
Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue.Â
"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath.Â
"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself.Â
Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"
He placed his forehead against yours.
"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever.Â
Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.
"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"
He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.
"Shit, Iâm so sorry, letâs stop, I didnât mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.
"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "Iâm okay⊠Iâm just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much Iâm feeling right now."
He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom.Â
Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.
Every few hours heâd wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. Youâd made love each time, everytime better than the last.
It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.
"I have to leave soon. I donât want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."
Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, Iâm selfish, youâll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true⊠â your voice trailed off.
"And Iâll always wonder if I made the right decision,â he finished.Â
Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.
It was Joon, "Iâm outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that Iâd come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."
Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes⊠and Joon⊠thanks, I know youâre probably in trouble too."
Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting.Â
"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."
Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.
You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoonâs voice broke through the moment.
"Weâve got to go Jungkook."
Stepping away youâd left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."
He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.
Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan.Â
For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.
You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again.Â
Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.
He was just as sad as you but what could you do?Â
Picking up a pen you began writingâŠÂ
I shouldnât have done it but I read it in your letter
You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better
I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing
You donât ever have to be stronger than you really are
And honey, you donât ever have to act cooler than you think you should
Youâre brighter than the brightest stars
Youâre scared to win, scared to lose
Iâve heard the war was over if you really choose
The one in and around you
You hate the heat, you got the blues
Youâre changing like the weather, oh, thatâs so like you
Iâll pick you up
Iâll catch you on the flipside
If you come back to California
Weâll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far
Weâll hit up all the old places
Weâll have a party, we can dance till dawnâŠÂ
Y/N
October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.
Bundled in Jungkookâs hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world.Â
Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.
Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror. Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldnât be?
Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.
"Hi."
He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.
"Hi."
You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him heâd only grown more handsome.
"I canât change what happened⊠and for the rest of my life Iâll be sorry for all of the time we missed."
He was getting closer.
"But I canât take another day not knowing if I can fix this⊠somehowâŠ"
He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.
"Jungkook, I canât listen to this⊠look at me."
Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.
"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."
He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.
"God Iâve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.
"How long are you here? Iâve got to teach class.. Itâs the first day but Iâd love it if we could catch up?"
He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.
Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.
"Iâm your private lesson Jagi, Iâve booked you for the next two weeks."
Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"
Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.
"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldnât negotiate on, thatâs you."Â
He guided you to look at the mirror.
"I wrote you something."
~Please call my name one more time
Iâm standingâ
underâ
the frozen light,â
but Iâll walk step by step towardsâ
you
Still with you ~
"I promise Iâll never let you go again."
#jungkook#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#Jeongguk#jungkook x reader#kookie#nochu#10 years with jungkook#california#lana del rey
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Slithered Here From Eden - Princewitch
KINGDOM OF THE WICKED SPOILERS!!! I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW SPOILERY THIS FIC IS. THE HEIGHT OF SPOILERS!! THE PEAK OF SPOILERS!! THIS IS A VERY LOUD WARNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KINGDOM OF THE WICKED SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT DO NOT KEEP READING IF YOU DONT WISH TO BE SPOILED THANK YOUUUUUU
anyways here is my first princewitch fic!! i hope you guys like it, and let me know if you have any ideas for fics for those two. im a little nervous to put this out here - ive written only cressworth and original stuff for a while, so im kinda nervous this wont be in character or will be weird in my style. anyway, please let me know if you like this, and if its something you want more of. im already working on a few others, courtesy of @duchess-of-nothing-and-nowhere âs brilliant ideas, but send in any requests you have!!! i hope you guys enjoy, thank you!!!!!
---
Hell was, well, hell.
Her husband was busy doing whatever kings of Hell did in their spare time, which she was thankful for. She didnât wish to run into any of the Wicked, but Pride was close to the top of the list. Not the worst offender, however. The Prince sheâd once tentatively called an ally had claimed that spot with his spectacularly humiliating betrayal.Â
The worst part was that she still didnât understand. His motives, his feelings, his aims - all were shrouded in mystery, one that seemed to taunt her at every twist and turn. Bastard.Â
Contrary to her preconceptions, her rooms were actually rather beautiful. Similar to the style of the house Wrath had rented in Palermo, but it felt different. Darker. Her quarters were styled in black and gold, with serpent scones lining the walls. The fire flickered in a menacing fashion, though sheâd long since learned it had more bark than bite.Â
Shadows crept along the floor until they curled at her feet like a cat, announcing the presence of the one demon prince she wished to see the least.Â
âWhat do you want.â Emilia barely gave him a glance before he walked him, arrogance pouring off him. As if he owned the damn place.Â
Infuriatingly beautiful as usual, he wore a dark suit, flecked with golden patterns, not unlike the tattoo she knew adorned his shoulder. Her attention flicked to the wicker basket he held gingerly in his hands. Covered with a soft blue tea towel, it looked like something plucked off the streets of her home, not something that belonged within the obsidian walls of the kingdom where wickedness ruled with abandon.Â
Silence was his only reply as he looked her up and down. The gaze threatened to set her alight; with rage or desire, she wasnât entirely sure. Once, the bed that loomed behind her wouldâve offered a taunting distraction and a fragile but desperate wish. Now, it only annoyed her, reminding her of the moments sheâd failed so magnificently at seeing through his façade.
Still no response. They hadnât spoken since her wedding, and their last words had been less of a conversation and more of throwing of well-deserved insults on her behalf. Heâd told her that she knew nothing of his motivations, and to assume he wished her harm was foolish. Sheâd told him a few carefully chosen expletives, complete with a hand gesture that wouldâve had her mother wringing her hands. Wrath had spent the days prior skulking outside her quarters, never saying a word, only letting his shadows pollute her already foul mood. She mightâve had the slightest amount of sympathy for him, had he not betrayed her, lied to her, married her to his brother and thoroughly pissed her off in the process.
He placed the basket down on the table at the other side of the room. Looking up, Wrath raised a carefully groomed brow. Apparently, princes of Hell had beauty routines.
His mood was undetectable through his face, but the shadows that followed him gave it away, if only slightly. They were the same dark as a summer night; dark enough for comfort, but not the soulless black pitch sheâd seen him wear so often. An interesting combination for a prince who seemed to care not a whit whether she lived or died after heâd gotten what he wanted.
Wrath pulled back the cloth covering the basket to reveal â food. A carefully curated selection of her favourites, smelling like theyâd been plucked off the serving plates of the Sea & Vine.
She nearly salivated at the sight â the food sheâd eaten in Hell had been a sore spot for her. Though nothing was wrong with it, it lacked the love of homemade food. The flavour that came with knowing that someone lovingly made every single bite. There were no laughing families who cooked here, no fathers to taste-test, or sisters to tease while they made sangria side by side.
 âHow on earth did you find this?â The words slipped out before she could correct herself. âEarthâ was perhaps not the right term, though she couldnât truly tell where she was. Under, felt more accurate. Below.
He looked at her as if she was missing the obvious â and she was.
The food smelt like she was used to because it was what she was used to. The same recipes, made with the same care as every meal that came from the Sea & Vine kitchens.
Panic enveloped her faster than joy.
âDid you hurt them?â She hissed, desperately searching his appearance for any sign of violence. He was wearing black, that much was true, but either he cleaned up exceptionally well, or there was no blood to be found.
âHurt them?â Wrathâs tone was even, but she could hear how he scoffed. The nerve, âNo. I even paid for it.â
Her heart still beat fast enough to burst from her chest, so he continued, âRelax, witch. No harm has come to them, nor will it, if you comply with my brotherâs terms.â There was no audible threat in his tone, but she knew it went without saying. Comply, be Prideâs blooded wife, or her family would receive the same fate as Vittoria. It hurt to even think about, however brief the thought was.
She was going to throw something right at his beautiful, awful face. Maybe the basket, once she was finished devouring her favourites. Wrath would certainly look ridiculous enough with a basket slammed over his head, if he didnât kill her first.
âItâs not poisoned, if thatâs what you fear.â Emilia blinked, unsure how to respond. He seemed to be lingering, if demon princes could ever linger. Why wouldnât he leave?
She nodded, restraining a biting retort about how she was sure that fact was a deep disappointment for him. Remembering the odd rules of demonhood, she thanked him.
Still, he wouldnât leave. Just stood there, watching her with those golden eyes that peered into her very soul, reaching inside and setting her alight. His gaze was unnerving.
Her patience, which had thinned dramatically since becoming a co-ruler of Hell, waned, âAre you waiting for payment?â
He laughed. Actually laughed. A short, biting sound, but a laugh nonetheless.
âI could smell your foul mood from my own House. Perhaps this will appease you.â
Appease her. As if it were that simple. As if he hadnât tricked her, lied to her by omission, made her into an even greater fool than the one she was.
âPerhaps if you deigned to be truthful, I would be more polite.â Lies, but worth a try. If only he would tell her something, anything by way of explanation. Even if it was brutally cruel and benefitting a member of the Wicked. Anything but the agony of anticipation.
Apparently this evening was full of more surprises, because Wrath then pulled out a chair, and gestured for her to sit down, like they werenât sworn enemies. The thought of a biting retort was attractive, but the smell of food was too much. The scent of all her favourites, food sheâd spent hours labouring over in the past, wafted towards her like an irresistible gift.
The basket held everything she dreamt of. Wrath laid the table with his harvest as she tried not to gape at the sight. Twin glasses of sangria, somehow still delightfully cold. The comforting smell of garlic and fresh herbs permeated the air. Plates piled high with a mix of all her favourite things: a selection of antipasto, a side plate of bruschetta, a bowl of pasta, and a small dish of cannoli. If she closed her eyes, and forgot the presence of the prince in front of her, she could picture being back home, surrounded by her family and loved ones. If she thought hard enough, she could faintly smell Vittoriaâs favourite perfume, the one she made for herself.
When she opened her eyes, the dream faded away, and there was only Wrath sitting across from her. Despite all the effort she presumed he mustâve taken to fetch the food, he sat watching like he thought it was attack him. Or she would. A laugh escaped her lips, almost hysterical, at the situation. Her, Queen of Hell, sat with her husbandâs brother, another demon prince, as they ate food from her familyâs restaurant. Comical, if disturbing.
âIt wonât bite,â She said, eagerly helping herself to a plate. His eyes flickered with the promise of his bite, and she fought to keep any sign of her reaction off her face. Now was not the time to think of his kiss, or goddess forbid, his tongue. Watching carefully, he followed suit, piling his plate high with a mirror of her own. If she didnât know the strength that lurked beneath that bronze skin and manicured hands, she wouldâve called it sweet.
The food was â the food was heavenly. The taste of home, the love of her family, the promise of safety offered in those few bites brought her more joy than she thought possible. She wanted to stretch out the meal forever, as long as time would permit. If this was the last time she would taste such heaven, she wanted to remember it.
Despite her anger at the demon sitting across from her, curiosity embedded itself in her mind. How could he have known? How could he have known this was exactly what she needed, what her soul craved? Just as heâd done with the orange blossoms after Lust, heâd somehow known her mind and soul needing nourishment, and brought it as a gift to her door. Perhaps there would be a price to be paid, someday, but for now, her happiness was enough.
It was ridiculous and Nonna wouldâve scolded her dearly, but it was the first semblance of normal sheâd had since signing her name over to Pride. The meal sent flashbacks of the time sheâd spent after Lust had invaded her mind; the days sheâd spent lying in bed, a stranger in her own body, while Wrath sat like a comforting guardian demon. They hadnât spoken, but heâd delivered her meals thrice daily, and never left her side unless to fetch her clothes from his mysterious source, or to give her privacy if sheâd asked. Heâd even brought her reading materials, though they were filled with battle strategies, not the steamy romances she craved. At the time, sheâd thought it was a sign that maybe, just maybe, Wrath was different. Now, she only felt the white-hot flush of shame. Her appetite faded, and she pushed the plate away.
He catalogued her change in mood with a barely perceptible nod of his head. Truly, she had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes she thought he was terrified for her, her witch-blood and mortal heart acting as a beacon for all those whom Pride had made an enemy. Sometimes she thought he wanted to kiss her until her lips were swollen and she begged him for release. Sometimes she thought her presence disgusted him to a never-ending degree. A mystery.
âYou need to be careful,â He broke the silence with a warning, as if she treated Hell like a stroll along Sicilian streets.
âIt would help if you told me anything.â She hated the petulant near-whine of her voice, but it couldnât be helped. She had nothing and no-one in the world, but she needed an ally. Or, if she couldnât have that, information would have to do.
âIâve already told you too much.â Lies. Complete lies.
Her questioning had bored him, she assumed, as he stood up to go, leaving the remnants of their meal scattered around them. Wrath cast one last look at her before stalking out, taking the shadows with him.
Just as she was about to curse his name, she spotted a bouquet of orange blossoms on the dresser.
Bastard.
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#princewitch#kingdom of the wicked#prince wrath#emilia di carlo#emilia x wrath#my fics#kotw fic#the thought of wrath slithering up to her door like a fucking cat is SO funny to me you know hes going through it book 2
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