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simpleeindulge · 6 months ago

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The Beast and The Mouse🔞

Info: KidxFem/reader, too lazy to mention everything but this chapter is for the mature only!🔞 Hints of rough sex, slightly forced, cussing and some foreplay.

Warning: Long! I probably should have cut it in half, but after the hiatus, I figured a long chapter wouldn't hurt. I hope you enjoy it!

Please keep in mind that this is the first time I have written smut with Kid. Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Part 4: The One in the Mask

@ella157 @bdudette @faetoraa @elen-alambil @buckysxgal @ryuv1i @ilovespicykimchi @stuckinthewrongworld @ninablue @kookydoesstuff @Kimyk10br

The energy on the ship felt strange but Y/N supposed it couldn't be helped. After all, she did stab the captain.

It didn't matter that she didn't kill him. It didn't matter that he had asked, no, commanded her to do it, and it certainly didn't matter that he deserved it. She stabbed Eustass "Captain" Kid, the bastard.

Her attack on Kid gave Y/N mixed notoriety among her crewmates. There were some in the crew would questioned whether she could be trusted. Others saw it as a right of passage and that the Captain wanted to test her even though he never tested anyone before.

Whatever they choose to believe, they all agreed it was best to stay away from Y/N. At least the men did anyway. The women, on the other hand, had their own opinion that Kid got what he deserved for pushing a knife into Y/N's hand.

"Don't sweat it, love! Kid is too stubborn to die from a knife wound. Everyone in the crew knows that!" A tall blue-haired girl named London said as she threw an arm around Y/N.

The other women in the dorm laughed as they passed around a bottle of cherry whiskey.

Quincy giggled and commented slyly, "Yeah, it's not like you damaged anything important! That would be a tragedy!"

The others snickered as they made lewd comments, then went back to settling in for the night. Y/N blushed as her gaze dropped to the cup of booze she held in her hands.

"I don't understand why he is so mean to me," Y/n said softly.

Dive gave Y/n’s knee a gentle pat as London waved off her comment.

"What can we say?! The guy is a jerk." London said casually, then held up her glass and cried, "But he is our jerk!" The other women cheered and drank to her words.

As the other women returned to their own gossip, London and Quincy moved closer to Y/n when they saw that the toast didn't cheer her up.

"I just don't get it. It's like he wants something from me, but I don't know what it is." Y/N said her thoughts out loud as the trio listened. "Every time I think things are better between us, Kid does or says something that destroys any progress made."

Quincy and London looked at each other with brows raised as Dive patted Y/n's knee again.

"Kid is like that, and you can't take it personally. Besides, if he didn't want you here, he would have gotten rid of you long ago." Dive explained.

“Yeah,” Quincy nodded with a grin, “He would have literally tossed you overboard.”

London seemed to agree but added, “I think Killer would give you the courtesy of a heads-up before it got to that.”

Y/n sighed since Kid did try to get rid of her on her third day aboard the ship, and Killer was trying to talk him out of it. The reasoning back then was that Kid didn’t think she could handle it, but hadn’t she proven herself to him by now?

"I guess not, but what is it going to take?" Y/N thought as she took a sip of her drink.

“Hey, Y/n, have you talked to the Captain since stabbing him,” London asked with a curious glance. Y/N sighed and shook her head no.

Y/n hadn't heard or seen him for three days while sailing. Even her training with Killer had stopped, so she chose to train on her own. The ship had stopped at an island the day before for supplies, so Kid spent most of his time on land exploring.

The rumors she overheard from the male crew members about Kid's time on the island made her feel sick. He apparently visited a popular establishment on the island and was seen drinking with women, then taking a few of them to the rooms above the bar. Y/n knew it was silly to feel upset or betrayed. The first time she saw Kid, he had a woman in his lap. Still, it was hard not to feel a tight knot in her chest when she thought about Kid with other women.

Y/N tossed back the rest of her drink, hoping the cherry-flavored alcohol would knock her out so she could wake up with her common sense restored.

"What we need," London said brightly as she stood up and put her hands on her hips, "Is a girl's night out! We get to go ashore tomorrow night, so let's live it up!"

From her back pocket, London pulled out a flyer with gold lettering that read, "The Garden." Quincy grinned at her and said, "Now that's an idea! I've heard rumors about that place."

She turned to Y/N, saying, “This is exactly what you need!”

"Why do I need to go to a bar? I can drink on the ship," Y/n said with a smile.

Quincy rolled her eyes. "It's not just a bar. It's-"

“A brothel,” Dive gasped and laughed as she pointed at the name on the flyer. "That's the place the Captain been going to!"

"A brothel," Y/n said blushing as she stared at London's and Quincy's wide grins. "I thought that…"

“What? That only men go to brothels?" Dive snickered.

"I'm mean..."

Y/N looked between all three and realized how naive she still was about the bigger world outside her own experiences. She then picked up the flyer and read the short, punchy description.

A place for all to gather and share their hidden desire. All are welcome. Women drink for free.

Y/N frowned at the "women drink for free" line and read further down in smaller lettering that women who help entertain or keep company for a guest drank for free.

She shook her head and said, "I don't know, isn't there another place we could go to have a girl's night?"

London grabbed the flyer and pointed to it, saying, "Free, Y/N! Free!"

"Only if we entertain!" Y/N said as she blushed.

Quincy smirked and said, "Oh, I've been to one of these places.” She then looked at Y/N and said, "You don't have to sleep with anyone. Just be friendly if someone talks you up or asks for a dance."

"And if you meet someone you want to sleep with, then the guy pays for use of the room." Dive finished explaining with a grin.

Y/N paled as Quincy grinned back at her. "Best part is that it's lady's choice of whose company she's keeping."

“But I-”

“Come on, Y/n! You worked at a bar! You know how to talk to drinking men! And it's not like you have to sleep with anyone!” London said as she pleased with her eyes.

“Unless you wanted to,” joked Dive, who gave her an encouraging look.

"It is a great stress reliever." Quincy sighed, then shrugged, "If the guy is good, anyway."

Y/n looked at her new friends and sighed.

"I guess I can give it a go."

The trio cheered and hugged Y/N, promising she wouldn't regret her trip to The Garden.

Kid scowled as his skin prickled at the energy of the place. Ordinarily, he would be excited to come to a brothel and find a woman or three to spend the night with. Now, the idea turned his stomach, and it annoyed him.

Why should it bother him to pick up women?! Killer was right! This was what he needed. The night before was...not a success. Yes, he drank with a few women and took them to a room, but his damn body wouldn't cooperate! So he drank the night away and passed out, but not before threatening the women into silence.

What he needed was the right woman to get over his desire for Y/N. It irritated him that not just any woman would do. He thought about finding someone with the same hair color or body type as Y/N and was immediately repulsed by the idea. No way could Kid settle for anything less than what he originally desired. What he needed was someone better than Y/N. Kid scanned the room as he and Killer walked to an empty table.

"We could ask the proprietor if she has any suggestions." Killer suggested to Kid, as a masked barmaid brought their drinks.

Kid scoffed and tossed back his drink. He then looked around the large bar. All the women were dressed in simple white or cream dresses and different color masks. The men could dress as they pleased, but women were required to wear this uniform if they wished to participate.

A clever scheme since a poor drunken bastard won't be able to tell the difference between a whore from the brothel and a woman just looking for a good time till it was too late. Kid took another drink as Killer waved over the Madam of this "garden."

"Hello, gentlemen; how may I be of service?"

This woman wore a golden cloth mask and a dress with her hair pulled back. Her both her eyes and voice gave away the maturity of her age. Kid ignored the woman as he sipped his drink and watched the women in the bar and then the men. He usually could go either way, but that damned 'mouse' was fucking everything up for him.

"I see," The madam mused. "I think have what you are looking for in my garden this night."

"Forget it, I don't pay for sex."

The woman stiffened, but she stayed cool as she studied Kid. Her sharp eyes and years of dealing with men told her just about everything she needed to know.

She smiled cunningly and said, "You were unsatisfied with your choices last night, so how about this? I bring you a woman who fits your needs. If she satisfies you, you will pay for the use of the room. If she doesn't, then you pay nothing at all."

Kid peered over at the woman and then scoffed. "I'm guessing the price of the rooms just got marked up."

The woman shrugged her shoulders as she held her smile. "Well? Do you agree?"

Kid looked at his drink and said, "Throw in a few free rounds for me and my buddy Killer, and you got yourself a deal."

Killer had to give credit to the woman. She felt any irritation she hid it well.

"Very well," The madam replied, waving over a girl from the bar. The girl hurried over and placed two new drinks on the table. "Enjoy, gentlemen, and leave the rest to me." She walked away with an equal calmness that showed how long she had worked in this business.

Kid then picked up his second drink and began to work on it as Killer studied the people in the crowd. Killer didn't want to bring up Kid's mouse problem, but his buddy's behavior was concerning. He knew what happened last night, and that wasn't all like Kid. They needed to get rid of the girl Killer thought as he took a drink.

"Maybe this is a good place to leave her."

Killer nearly choked and glanced at Kid, glad that he didn't have to bring the idea up to him. It was odd to see a woman get under Kid's skin so easily by simply existing. Since the incident with the knife, Kid had distanced himself from Y/N, but he wasn't the same. Getting rid of the girl would be for the best and it was better to let it be Kid's idea.

When he didn't say anything else, Killer carefully agreed with him.

"It's not a bad town. Plenty of work. Not a shit hole."

"Nope, definitely not a shit hole." Kid agreed and chuckled. He took another long sip and stared at the women and men gathering at the bar. "Looks like some of our crew is here." He grinned, pleased to see them having fun. He then frowned as he searched for Y/N among the masked women. He could pick out London, Quincy and Dive, but not Y/N, who he knew hung out with them.

"She's not here, Kid. I saw her working in the sickbay before we went, and the other women said they couldn't convince her to come."

"Fuck," Kid growled as he ran a hand through his hair. This was agonizing. He was supposed to be having fun and not giving a shit about anything. Later, he would have more important things to think about. This was no time to lose his grit over some girl. Kid tossed back his drink as he made up his made. Y/N will leave the ship tomorrow, and he will be the one to kick her off.

He set his empty glass on the table and stood up. Kid didn't feel in the mood to be out drinking, but he didn't want to go back to the ship just yet.

"You alright?" Killer asked.

"Peachy, I'm going to go for a walk. Tell that woman to forget our deal and to shove it up her ass if she complains."

People moved out of the way as Kid cut through the bar space and into the hallway leading to the exit. The entrance hall had two winding staircases leading to the rooms upstairs. As Kid moved closer to the middle of the staircases, he saw the madam of The Garden at the bottom of the left staircase.

He noticed she was speaking to a woman standing further up the stairs, and as he moved by, he couldn't help looking up at her. One look and Kid's blood went cold.

There was no way. Killer said that Y/N was back on the ship. Kid stared at the girl wearing a black cat mask over her face, but he swears that it was her. But her hair color was different from Y/N, and it was styled. Her body shape looked the same, but he doubted that his 'mouse' would have the nerve to dress provocatively and look at ease while out in the open for all to see.

The madam seemed to be instructing the girl as she talked in a low whisper while jesting with her pointed fingers. The girl nodded obediently and then turned to walk up the stairs. As she turned, her eyes caught Kid's staring at her. She was too far, and the mask made it hard to see her eyes as he tried to make out their color. She stilled, her red lips parting in surprise. Kid felt his blood heated back up, and his mind sped up.

This was the woman he was looking for to release his frustrations on.

The woman then looked away and continued to climb the staircase as if brushing him off. Kid growled and started to follow after her.

"Ah, you saw her." The madam cut in front of Kid, sounding pleased with herself. "She is fairly new in my garden, but I think you will find her satisfactory."

Kid glared at the woman, but she didn't flinch or move out of the way.

"She's one of yours?" He asked angrily, staring her down to see if the madam was lying.

She only grinned and nodded, then replied coolly, "As I said, if you find her pleasing, then you only need to pay for the cost of the room, but as you had mentioned earlier, the price will be triple its worth."

Kid grunted and then looked to the exit. He had no real reason to return to the ship, but something told him he should forget about the woman's offer. Kid moved to the doors, but then thought about the woman waiting for him upstairs.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!" His mind yelled at himself for being played. Just this once, he told himself, just this once he will have the fantasy.

Kid didn't look at the madam as she called out the room number he needed. Couples moved out of Kid's way when they sensed his aggression while heading to his room. The lights in the halls on the upper floors were dimmed, and as he passed door after door, Kid could hear muffled sounds, but he stayed focused on where he was going and what he would do. When he saw the door with the number he needed, he walked in as if he owned the small room.

Candles lit the room's corners, and a small fireplace cracked as it provided the only other light source. The woman spun around, her feathered bottom robe swaying around her nylon-covered legs. She had a hand holding her robe closed in front of her as she eyed Kid and said nothing as he entered the room and closed the door.

He stood across from her and looked her over to see if he could identify her, but she was a stranger to him. From where he stood he could see that her eye color was different from Y/N.

"Mask off," he then ordered.

The woman tilted her head at him, then opened her robe and let it slide down her arms to show him the lingerie on her body. Her top was bare, with only her lower half dressed. Kid grinned as his eyes traveled from her collarbones, over her curved chest, and to the sheer black panties that hugged her womanhood tightly. It was a perfect sight to his curious eye.

"Very nice, but I want the mask off."

The woman straightened her head and lifted her hands to the back of her head. She first let down her hair and then untied the mask. Kid stepped forward as the mask loosened and fell into her hand. When she looked up at him, Kid was annoyed to see a second mask, like the ones the women at the bar wore, still covering her face.

His hand moved to snatch it off her, but she caught his wrist. She then stepped forward and let go of him. Kid stared coldly at her. He remembered Killer telling him this place was popular with the locals because of its discretion. Meaning if a noblewoman wanted to know what it was like to be with a pirate or a marine with a pirate, it was possible here.

Not that this woman was either, but he doubted a whore cared about her identity. The clever madam could have lied about this woman being one of hers, but as she started to remove the last bit of lace from her body, Kid decided it didn't matter. Her skin was smooth and healthy looking, and she had the right amount of curves and fat on her body. And most importantly, his cock was willing as it started to stir in his pants.

Without thinking, Kid pulled the woman to him and put his mouth on her neck. The woman gasped and moaned as her head rolled to the side. Her nipples tightened with excitement as his hand ran down her back and slid over the curve of her hips.

"Fine," He whispered into her ear. "Keep your silly mask, but you better prepare yourself if you're going to fuck around with pirates. Especially me."

Her breathing became shaky, but she didn't speak or pull away. Kid smirked and sucked harder at her neck, making the woman release a surprised cry. The sound made his cock jump, making him want to hear more of her voice. He then lifted her and dropped her on the bed. She made a sound that was a mixture of surprise and annoyance as she bounced on the mattress. Kid only chuckled as he moved over while undoing his pants.

If this woman was looking for something slow and easy, she made a big mistake, Kid mused maliciously as he moved over her on the bed. The woman's eyes widen as she becomes trapped underneath him. Kid thought she was going to protest, but instead, she ran her hands over his chest and then dragged her nails over his shoulders.

Her nails bit into his skin, leaving angry red lines. Kid found the stinging pain a comforting release. His breath shuttered, and his eyes closed as her lips went to the base of his neck. As if paying him back, her teeth press into his skin hard enough to leave an imprint.

Kid shoved her back down, and the woman glared at him, but he ignored it as he lowered his head to suck at her breast. His tongue licked hard at her nipples, and the woman struggled not to make a sound as she gripped his shoulders. Her nails dig into his skin and Kid let out a breathy laugh, liking the treatment the woman was giving him.

He sucked harder at her breast, making the woman toss her head, and then forced a choked cry from her when he pulled at the other tight bud with his fingers. When his teeth scraped a nipple, she yelped and tried to smack Kid's face with her hand.

Kid moved away and chuckled at her. Whoever this woman was, she was gusty. A shiver went down his spine when his eyes met hers. They challenged him, but Kid could see a hint of anxiousness. Though they were a different color, Kid couldn't help thinking of Y/N.

He growled and roughly flipped the woman over to her stomach. He needed to stay focused and remember why he was here: to get laid and back to normal. The woman tried to lift her head, but Kid pushed on her upper back to keep her still.

"Stay down." Kid growled gruffly at her. And don't look at him with those damn eyes!

Kid shoved a finger in her to see if she was wet enough. The woman grunted and huffed but she didn't move to look at him. Kid was surprised to feel that despite his rough treatment of her, she was wet.

"You like it rough, I see," he said with a grin as he traveled down her back and over her ass. "That's good because it's going to get rougher."

The woman peered over her shoulder at him, then wobbled on her hands when Kid pulled one of her legs to make room for him. He then pressed himself against her sensitive flesh. Kid grinned wildly when he heard her take a breath and purposely thrust forward without any warning.

The poor woman choked on her exhale as Kid gritted his teeth to hold back the groan that wanted to crawl up his throat. After weeks of no relief, this was the sensation he was missing; this was what he needed. Kid wanted to dive further into her without caution, but her small size could only take so much of him without more preparation. The woman gasped and moaned as she tried to twist herself away.

"Fuck me, I bet she's a virgin," Kid's mind cursed as he slid back and tried to push more of himself into her, only for her to cry out in pain.

To Kid, virgins were only fun in theory, but in practice, he found them to be too much work and needy. He snorted and told himself that it was not his problem if she planned to have her first time in a brothel with a stranger.

Kid gripped her hips to hold her still as another groan threatened to escape his throat when she whimpered and tried to get away from him. The sadist in him was loving this. He saw no reason to be gentle with a woman who allowed herself to be put in the hands of a pirate. Kid was ready to start satisfying his lust when a part of him that he wasn't familiar with took possession.

“Relax.”

Both he and the woman stilled at the calm tone of his voice. Kid blinked and allowed himself to be possessed by whatever secret entity moved him to be gentle. He bent down and said huskily into her ear, "Just relax."

The woman seemed to side-eye him as her hands gripped the sheets, not completely trusting him as she tried to relax her body in his grasp.

The asshole in him wanted to take advantage and force himself into her, but instead, he reached around and rubbed his fingers on her clit. She let out a gasping cry and began to moan as her body wiggled and relaxed further.

“And people say I can’t do anything nice”, he thought with a pleased chuckle as he milked moans from the trembling woman under him.

The woman struggled at first not to let out her voice, but as Kid teased her by stimulating her clit and slowly pushing his cock forward, she gave up and let her breath do what it needed to keep her alive. Kid swallowed thickly and even groaned as the woman clenched and relaxed around him. A dark chuckle escaped him when she pushed herself back onto his cock to try and take in the rest of him.

This is enough of a warm-up for her; time for the real fun, Kid thought as he changed his pace.

He pulled her closer and drove himself deeper into her. She screamed into the air as her pussy stretched and held him in her. She then made a slight laughing sound that stroked Kid's ego. He grinned at the back of her neck as he began his thrusting. Fuck, he thought as her body took him with no issues, fuck, fuck, fuck. This was what he needed.

Kid couldn't remember want else happened from there. All he knew was that the woman didn't fight him as he slid in and out of her in a heated frenzy. He lost all restraint and used the woman to get the relief he desired for weeks. When he finally came, he hardly cared that he filled the woman's aching pussy with his cum.

He then pulled away and staggered to the door as he pulled up his pants. Kid didn't bother to look back at her. He opened the door and went out into the hall. He needed a drink and a long nap. As he walked back down the stairs, he was the brothel owner with a calm smile on her lips. Wordlessly, she held out her hand to Kid. With a grunt, Kid handed her the money and went to look for Killer in the bar.

The madam then went up the stairs to check on the new girl she had given to the pirate. The woman in the bed waited for Kid to leave before she got up from the bed just as the madam entered the room. She had a thick robe that she threw over the woman's shoulder.

"Come, I will help you." The madam said softly to the woman.

"I have to get back." The woman replied worriedly.

"I will help." The madam repeated and guided the woman out of the room.

Kid and the rest of the crew didn't return to the ship until late at night. Y/N woke up to London, and the others laughed as they crawled into bed. Sighing, Y/N got up and went to the infirmary to set aside all the ingredients for the tonic she would have to make for everyone in the morning. She then winced and reached for a jar of her freshly made ointment.

The ointment was cool on her fingertips, and she carefully spread it on her shoulders, neck, and chest. She knew that Kid would be rough, yet she had a feeling he tried to hold back, at least initially. She huffed and shook her head, then winced again. No, she got the Kid treatment, and she should be lucky that he went easy on her based on the stories she had overheard on the ship.

What she did was crazy and stupid. Even the madam of the brothel thought it was risky. Her abilities to disguise Y/N would disappear if Kid found her out and said her name. There were times that Y/N feared that he had in that small room. If he ever found out…

“But he won’t. He can’t,” She whispered as she put the jar back on the shelf. Y/N took a deep breath and went back to the women's quarters.

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lemoncrushh · 5 months ago

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Leather and Lace

Summary: The night Harry sang with Stevie at the Troubadour

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1440

A/N: This is a special little one shot written after that night in 2017. For those who don't know me, I've been a massive Stevie Nicks fan for many many years. Though I was not there at the Troubadour, I cried tears of joy when I found out about it. Then I wrote this. It's written in first person because it is so personal to me.

I'd been trying to hold it together for the last twenty minutes. The show was over, the crowd for the most part was dispersing and leaving the Troubadour, with a few clusters of fans here and there chatting. The music was still ringing in my ears, the feedback from the guitar now long gone yet still managing to vibrate and shake throughout my body. I stood frozen in my spot on the balcony where I'd sat next to James to watch Harry. The stage was now empty, the spotlights now making it seem more like a distant memory, or a time capsule from a completely different era - one that I'd seen in old magazines from decades ago.

I couldn't believe what I'd just witnessed. Harry had just sung with Stevie Nicks. Stevie fucking Nicks! To say I was a fan of hers would be an understatement. Stevie was my idol. My queen. The reason I'd wanted to be a musician since I was twelve.

I hadn't known she would be there. Harry hadn't told me. Whether it was because he wanted it to be a surprise, or because he was afraid I would freak out and be nervous for him, therefore making him all the more nervous, I didn't know. But maybe it was a little of both.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my back. I turned to see James who gave me a kind smile and patted my shoulder. He whispered in my ear that he was leaving and he would ring Harry later. I nodded and gave him a quick hug and said goodnight. Then I turned my gaze back to the stage below.

He'd done it. This was it. I couldn't even imagine it getting any better. He could sell out arenas and stadiums all over the world, win all the Grammys and stay at number one on Billboard for over a year and it still wouldn't compare to the emotions I'd felt watching him sing with Stevie.

I felt a tear start to trickle down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away when I heard my name behind me.

"There you are," said Glenne. "Harry's looking for you."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "He is?"

"Yeah, he wants you backstage."

Harry never asked for me to come backstage or to the dressing room, neither before or after a show. I would give him the space he needed to clear his head and get in the zone. Even when he was on Saturday Night Live, I'd just taken a seat like any other audience member and waited until he'd come out to find me, his face all flushed, his bag slung over his shoulder. For him to be asking for me now...after what had just happened...that meant something.

"Okay..." I took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

I descended the staircase slowly, my knees shaking. Glenne hadn't bothered to follow me, which only confirmed that Harry had requested me and me only.

Jeff stood just inside the dressing room door when I entered. He nodded at me silently before walking around me and leaving me alone with Harry. He sat on a small leather loveseat that had seen better days and probably had more stories to tell than Keith Richards. When he saw me, he beamed. I immediately ran to him when he rose, throwing my arms around his middle. It didn't matter that he was sweaty. It didn't matter that the door behind me was wide open. All that mattered was that I couldn't be more proud of him than I was in that moment.

We rocked back and forth for a few minutes until I felt him kiss the top of my head and whisper.

"Sorry I didn't tell you. Kinda wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, you definitely achieved that."

Harry chuckled, his chest shaking against my cheek that pressed to it. "So, what'd you think?"

I licked my lips, trying to gather my thoughts. "I thought it was the most beautiful moment I've ever gotten to see and hear in my life."

"Yeah?"

I lifted my head to look at him. "Of course. My two favorite people. Singing together. What could be better than that?"

Harry smiled wider as he brushed a strand of hair away from my eyes. His eyes danced with glee, like a giddy child who'd just gone to Disneyland.

"How did it feel to you?" I asked him. "To be up there with her, singing her songs, her singing yours? That had to feel incredible."

For the first time since I'd entered the room, Harry's smile faltered a bit and he pressed his lips together.

"To be honest," he replied, "I was having a hard time keeping it together."

I nodded. "I know. I noticed. But I think that made it ever better. I loved seeing you getting choked up. Because I was getting choked up too."

Harry suddenly let go of me and backed away, digging his palms into his eyes. He sat on the couch again, his shoulders trembling as he released his emotions he'd no doubt been holding in up to that point. I silently sat beside him, my hand gently laid on his thigh, unmoving and waiting until he was ready for more contact. I watched him cry, the overwhelmingness finally hitting him. Finally with a shaky breath, he took hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. He tried to catch the tears before they fell unsuccessfully as I rubbed his back with my other hand.

"That was...pretty intense, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah..." he breathed, wiping his eye with the back of his hand.

"She's amazing."

"A legend," Harry added. "I can't believe...I can't believe that actually happened. It's like...a dream."

I smiled. "She seemed to really like you, too. She must think you're something special to do that with you. And she'd be right."

Harry turned to me then, giving me a small grin.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," I murmured, leaning my cheek against his shoulder. "I just...I just don't even have words for how I feel right now. You continue to blow my mind.

He squeezed my hand again before threading his fingers through and bringing it to his lips.

"Now, I'm gonna want a studio recording of Leather and Lace," I quipped.

Harry chuckled, and I was happy I'd lightened the mood.

"You might just have to settle for a live version on youtube, I'm afraid."

I shrugged. "Fair enough. Sometimes live recordings are better anyway. And there's no way you could really recapture that magic in a studio version."

"Harry, darling, I just wanted to say goodbye and wish you the best of luck."

I knew the voice before I even turned my head. There she stood in the doorway, my queen in all her five feet and one inch, minus the platform boots. My eyes widened and I'm pretty sure I gasped as Harry rose from the sofa again, my hand still in his.

"Thank you so much, Stevie," he choked, his voice raspier than usual.

The next few moments were a blur which seemed to happen in fast forward and slow motion simultaneously. Harry introduced me to Stevie, I shook her soft, tiny, hand with its long painted nails, and I think I might have told her I loved her, though I don't remember exactly. I do remember, however, that she hugged me and she smelled intoxicatingly beautiful, like a cross between jasmine, honeysuckle and Nag Champa incense. I also might've held on a little longer than I should have until she pulled away and smiled, then moving to hug Harry. If I had thought about it, I would have taken a photo, but the memory burned in my brain was enough.

I watched her walk away, giving one last wave, then I stared at her boots as she walked down the hall and hugged Sarah and Clare.

"I wonder which of us is the most starstruck," I heard behind me.

I smiled, turning around.

"Definitely you," I commented. "You got to sing with her. That's like...the ultimate."

"I dunno," he smirked. "You should see your face right now."

I slapped my hand to my mouth. "Oh my God!" I muffled my scream. "I just met Stevie Nicks!"

Harry smiled wider, holding out his arm to gesture for me.

"C'mere, love," he said.

I crashed into his chest again, wrapping my arms around him. Just like before, we rocked back and forth. Only this time, I was the one weeping.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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wave2tyun · 9 months ago

Text

policy of truth and lies | ☆

pairing: huening kai x reader

genre: highschool!au (kinda), band!txt, brother's best friend!kai, fluff, a bit suggestive

summary: a little white lie never hurts sometimes. to what lengths are you willing to go to protect it?

warnings: mentions of throwing up

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this all started just from my silly little desire to write a fic with the brother's best friend trope absdjhabj but honestly, this is one of the fics that i am most proud of, it has a special place in my heart :(<3 shout out to all my dear ningdungies!!!!😼😼💞 i love you all a lot!!!!<33 (and i hope you manage to survive this!!!)

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

“carefully planned-out coincidences” - that’s what your encounters with kai were; something that would appear unsuspicious to the naked eye, yet so obvious to a love connoisseur.

a fixed set of rules had been established in order for such meetings to be successfully completed, and continued.

1. no texting each other when you’re next to others. people love to snoop and steal a glance at your phone screen, getting you easily busted.

2. no form of physical touch is allowed on school grounds, unless you’re well-hidden. you never know what pair of eyes could be lurking around.

and, the most important one of them all: 3. do not, under no circumstances, get caught by soobin.

your brother tended to be more of a quieter person with an almost inhumane kind of calmness in him. that, however, did not apply when it came to unveiling lies. had he found out you had been kissing his best friend behind his back, it would have certainly not turned pretty. you knew that the longer you kept it away from him, the harder it would be to reveal the truth. even so, you kept postponing it, as you couldn’t figure out the right way to do it. you couldn’t just randomly go up to him and say: “remember that halloween party we held last year? yeah, me and kai kissed while you were in pain, next to the toilet bowl, releasing the obscene amount of sweets you had eaten that night”.

it was not the most romantic scenario, obviously, but it was one of the very few moments when soobin and kai weren’t glued at the hip, and neither of you could take the tension anymore. taking your brother’s pitiful cries out of the image, the kiss was actually quite sweet. and no, it wasn’t because of the jelly beans kai had eaten prior to that- maybe only party. the actual reason was kai’s hand on your waist, accompanied by the breathy “can i…?” that he whispered against your cheek.

as cheesy as it may sound, it’s a night that you will never forget.

-for various reasons.

one of them being the fact that it was pretty much the the starting point of a certain “shift” in your relationship with kai. from that day onward, it seemed like both of you tried to find as many opportunities as possible to be in each other’s presence. oh- kai came over and wanted a glass of water from downstairs? whew- well, you were thirsty too, looks like you had to go to the kitchen with him. kai was left on dish-washing duty after parties? you could spare a few minutes to help him out. movie night with the boys? the only free spot was so conveniently the one next to kai.

it was thrilling, adrenaline-inducing. you could never be too sure whether you were subtle enough, or completely alone, so you had to walk on eggshells every single time, no matter what. it got exhausting though, and you wished that, at least for once, kai could come over to your house to see you, not soobin.

kai, on the other hand, was definitely more of a risk taker than you, one that saw no harm in breaking some of the rules every once in a while.

and there are no risks, without possible consequences.

it was something that kai had learned…the hard way…on the lovely day of february 14th.

soobin had invited kai to spend the day together, playing games and trying out all the mystery flavors of a heart-shaped chocolate box. initially, they weren’t supposed to be the ones indulging in the sweet treat, but soobin had chickened out before giving it to his crush at school that day. sulking uncontrollably, he called his best friend so that they could console themselves from the soul-crushing fact that they were both (to soobin’s knowledge) “single”.

while he felt bad for his downcast pal, kai also couldn’t take his mind off you. love was in the air, after all: the rom-com that played on his tv as he was getting ready to come to your house, the lovey-dovey songs playing on the radio, the couples getting affectionate on the streets- they only added further to the burning desire that he felt today, more than ever, to see you. and perhaps…not only see you.

depending on the situation, those coincidences would often consist of: hand-holding underneath blankets or tables, winks sent to redden the other one’s cheeks and, if you were lucky, an exchange of swift, tiny pecks.

none of the outcomes above satisfied him though. the more he thought about crossing paths with you, the more he wished to caress your face, to hold you in his arms- to have an intimate moment with you that involved something more than a “kiss and run” type of situation.

“hey- the race started, why are you not moving?” soobin exclaimed, his mario kart character moving way farther than kai’s across the screen.

snapping out of it, kai shook his head, placing the controller down onto the coffee table before excusing himself “i have to go to the bathroom-” he said as he placed one hand on his stomach, mustering up all his theatre acting skills to put on a pained expression on his face “i think those sweets aren’t sitting right with me”

as soon as he finished that statement, kai basically flew up the stairs, skipping 2-3 steps at once. he made sure to flip the light switch to the bathroom before striding towards your room, to make it seem like he was there.

kai made his entrance with a finger over his lips and a catlike smile.

“what are you doing? you can’t be in here-” you whisper-shouted. kai had never- ever been in your room up until that point. it was too dangerous.

however, you still gave in, not pushing him back through the door he came in from.

he walked closer, coming to cup your face in his hands “i wanted to see you”

“is that so?” you asked coyly.

kai smiled more, sensing the bit of happiness sneaking into your voice beside your attempts to appear mad at him.

“it is so” he answered, waver in his voice from excitement.

“if you don’t believe me, then i guess i could go back to soob-”

“no-” you tugged kai’s arm, laughing “stay, i was kidding”

kai turned on his heel, lips falling into place perfectly on top of yours, transferring his smile to you in an instant “you know i didn’t intend on actually doing it” he whispered, caressing your cheek.

“i know” you chuckled “but you have to make it up to me for the teasing”

you pulled at the collar of kai’s shirt, waiting for him with closed eyes to initiate another kiss. kai chuckled before connecting your lips back together, starting off with agonizingly quick pecks, then attempting to initiate something more through longer, fervent kisses that trailed down to your neck, all while he slowly made you walk backwards to your bed. it wasn’t long before you hit the mattress and the two of you ended up tangled in your sheets, with one hand tugging at kai’s hair and the other one at his shirt as he hovered over you. soft gasps escaped through your mouth- the only acceptable way to lightly catch your breath, as it didn’t involve letting go of each other.

a knock on the door, however, sent kai flying through the air.

“y/n? can i come in?” soobin asked, completely oblivious to the events happening on the other side of the piece of wood that his knuckles had grazed a second ago.

the strong fear that he’d come barging in before you answered, turned you to push the poor lover boy away earlier, catapulting him onto the floor, the fluffy rug hardly alleviating his pain.

“what was that sound- are you hurt?” you heard a worried shout. it was a clear sign that you had no more than five seconds to prepare for disaster.

“i’m coming in, okay?”

seeing the doorknob twist, kai had no time to process his anguish. he wriggled his way underneath your bed, pulling down the blanket to hide his body.

“everything alright…?” soobin took two steps into your room then froze. the sight of your disheveled bed as well as your poor, motionless figure, scrambled up his feelings of concern with confusion.

“yeah- never been better” you replied, brushing out any folds on your clothes with your hand.

soobin’s eyebrow raised in suspicion; it was hard to make your breathing seem normal when your lungs burned like an athlete who had ran a marathon.

“i swear i heard a loud noise coming from your room-”

“nope, uh- nothing here. i was sleeping before you came in” you yawned, stretching your arms up in the air to reinforce your previous statement.

kai placed a hand over his mouth, careful so as not to move the blanket or make any sounds- why did you have to say something that would direct soobin’s attention right in his direction? your brother sneaked another glance at your bed, judging its unusually messy state.

“are you building a bird nest or something?” he huffed, placing his hand on the doorknob, about to leave “don’t answer that actually- i don’t want to know. i just wanted to tell you that the pizza is gonna arrive in about thirty minutes. if you don’t come down on time, i can’t promise that there’ll be any left for you”

with that, the door was shut, allowing your body to slide down to the floor in relief- and the breath trapped in kai’s lungs to be released.

it was only after this incident that kai’s venturesome nature seemed to be slightly tamed. not once did he try to sneak into your room again, nor did he dare to bring up the matter. the one and only thing that he could do, was to look up at you with troubled, wary eyes as he pecked your lips, knowing that it didn’t stand in his power to do more.

nevertheless, it wasn’t long before he proceeded to go back to his usual antics, the feeling inside his heart all too unbearable.

after all, not everyone can resist temptation, can they?

people knew that it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for you to be spotted in and outside the school with the most in demand band of the city, txt- your school’s pride and joy, which both your brother and his best friend were part of. so, whenever you tagged along with them, say it were to a local show, backstage, or during rehearsals, no one questioned a thing.

what was uncommon though, was you receiving private messages from the band’s notably fine pianist, kai, and giggling while responding to him, on top of it all.

this scene was witnessed by a certain someone who you thought had fallen fast asleep in the middle of class. little did you know how effective the bell ringing was to wake him up and how he had the most perfect view to the conversation taking place on your phone screen.

kai

[9:17 am] can you stay after the rehearsal today?^3^

[9:18 am] i miss you…

the witness slowly placed their head back on their desk, choosing to stay silent. this kind of matter required evidence, direct confirmation, and therefore they chose to follow you around for the rest of the day, like a shadow, thoroughly analyzing your words and actions; the texts were your first strike of the day, could there have been anything else you were keeping in the dark? the answer is yes, and you can take that literally- it turns out that the lonely, far corner of the school library makes a good spot for “discreet” pda.

you and kai were tucked away in that poorly lit spot, hugging, laughing- blissfully unaware of the third pair of eyes there with you, glossed with anger and action-driven by betrayal.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“and that’s a wrap- good job guys” yeonjun clapped his hands, turning from the microphone stand to face the group with a smile.

“kai, cleaning duty is on you today. make sure you don’t forget to lock up the doors before you leave” yeonjun threw the keys in kai’s direction, which he caught effortlessly.

“what? you always ditch on me when we get paired up together- what could have possibly gotten in the way this time?” kai’s brows furrowed in annoyance. he wasn’t one to enjoy picking a fight, but yeonjun was taking too much advantage of his compassionate nature. he had enough of all the chores landing on him every week, without fail.

“scored a date with that girl from the mall” yeonjun winked “which, by the way- starts in less than half an hour. so, i gotta go, sorry buddy. maybe you can get somebody else to help you”

everybody else’s eyes turned to the floor after yeonjun parted ways with them, blurting out random reasons to be excused: “i have a project to finish” “i did it last time” “i just don’t want to do it” ; nobody was enthusiastic about staying at school overtime.

nobody, except for you. you were about to say an excuse of your own when the realisation hit you: you and kai? alone? with none of the boys around? it was a rare occurrence, one even rarer than the blue moon. you couldn’t simply pass by it.

“i can help you”

soobin watched you from the corner of his eye, biting his tongue to prevent any words from slipping out. you had stayed behind to help the members out before, it would be weird if he only started commenting on the matter when it was kai you were going to stay with.

“we’ll leave you to it then” beomgyu swung his arms around soobin’s and taehyun’s shoulders, leading them towards the door before you could change your mind.

“yeonjun always does this” kai huffed, picking up the acoustic guitar from the floor “i love him but- for once, i wish he’d keep his word- or at least not cancel on me last minute” the more his spoke, the more reckless his movements became.

“careful with that- no matter how cheerful beomgyu might be most of the time, i don’t think he’d be too happy to see his guitar destroyed by you”

“sorry” he said bashfully, resting his body against the wall with a sigh “i guess i’m just fed up with everything”

as you placed a hand over kai’s cheek, his eyelids fluttered shut, comfort already washing over him.

“would a kiss make you feel better…?”

kai nodded eagerly “i might need more than just one kiss though” he whispered, bringing his hand to the back of your neck to pull you back closer.

his kisses were playful at first, with smiles and chuckles interrupting every once in a while. then, when he switched positions, bringing you to be the one trapped against the wall, he began alternating between pecking your lips and lightly biting them, chaste touches soon turning into something more…heated. hands brushing over each other’s bodies in a frenzy, swollen red lips caught in an endless, desperate chase, like you had never had a taste of something sweeter.

what had gotten into you both? doing something this risky in such an “honourable” place. it was the lousy heap of all your lies and yet the most enthralling point of them all.

too bad that adrenaline rushes don’t last forever though.

you felt kai’s heart thump against your chest as you cupped his jawline to bring him back for more, but your next kiss never came to fruition.

“am i interrupting something?” the person standing at the door’s threshold cleared their throat to grab your attention.

you felt your blood turn cold upon hearing the sound. having a hunch about the sight ready to greet you, you turned your head at an awfully slow pace.

“care to give me an explanation?” soobin stood with his arms crossed, the expression on his face indecipherable.

in a single day, all of the rules you swore you’d follow like a saint, for the sake of your relationship, had been broken.

kai was dismissed from the room by soobin without being given a chance to speak. it was your words he wanted to hear first and foremost, it was you who left him the most perplexed ever since he took a furtive look at your phone screen this morning, or since he saw what you were up to in the library.

you were silent, rubbing your hands with your head hanging low. lies can’t last forever, you knew that, but you wished the right to make that dreadful reveal was in your hands to hold.

your brother cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting his position in the plastic chair he sat down on. when he abandoned the boys earlier because he “forgot something” in the practice room, he didn’t have a concrete plan in mind.

“how long?”

“what?” you murmured.

soobin repeated himself “for how long has this been going on? this…thing between you and kai?”

your throat went dry- your first instinct was to spit out another lie. upon better thought though, you realised it was have been ridiculous to even try and deny anything, given the fact that you were caught mid-act. the only actual option left for you was the raw, honest truth:

“…a year” you said reluctantly. soobin only nodded his head.

the silence soon felt direful, and neither of you could tolerate it. soobin turned his head up to look into your eyes, he got the answers he was looking for, now it was his turn to be sincere with you.

“y/n, i’m not the one who chooses who you’re gonna love- and as much as it bothers me that, out of all the people, it’s my best friend who you fell for- i can’t tell you to stop seeing kai”

his words turned your mind in even more of jumble than before. that was it? no screaming? no need to pull out the classic “but i love him“? it was a rare occurrence for the two of you to settle things so easily, it felt like you were suddenly picked up and placed in an alternate universe.

“so, what i’m getting is…you’re approving of our relationship?” you asked, feeling the need to have a definite confirmation of his feelings; none of the scenarios you had imagined before where you revealed your relationship matched the result of this one.

soobin hummed “as long as you don’t hoard him on the weekends- he might be your boyfriend now, but he was my friend first. i’ll have him on saturdays and you can have him on sundays, deal?”

you smiled, shaking his stretched out hand “deal”

“shouldn’t kai have a say in this too though?”

“something tells me he’s already agreed to it” soobin laughed, pointing at a “totally-not-eavesdropping-kai”, the half-open door revealing his pink cheeks along with both of his thumbs up.

taglist: @huekalover3000

#wave2tyun #txt #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt fic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #txt headcanons #txt huening kai #huening kai fluff #huening kai scenarios #huening kai fic #huening kai x reader #huening kai imagines #huening kai headcanons #txt kai #kai fluff

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kybercrystals94 · 1 month ago

Text

Veiled Threats and Bloody Knuckles

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 16 - Prompts: Wound Cleaning // "No, I can't feel anything."

Rated: G | Words: 545

A/N: **throws fic into the World Wide Web abyss** All I can say is, at least I got something written today 😅

“Does it hurt?” Wrecker asks, watching Tech clean Hunter’s bloodied knuckles.

Hunter grimaces, but he tries to pull it off as a grin. “No, I can’t even feel anything.”

Crosshair snorts. “You’re such a liar.”

“If you truly did not feel anything, I would be concerned,” Tech puts in. When he sprays disinfectant over the broken skin, Hunter hisses and tries to pull his hand away, but Tech keeps a firm grip on Hunter’s wrist. “Please hold still.”

“I thought you couldn’t feel anything,” Crosshair mutters with a grin.

“Kriff off,” Hunter growls.

“Which reg did you punch?” Wrecker asks.

Hunter shrugs.

“Well, why’d you punch him?”

“Not worth talking about,” Hunter says.

“Oh, so you just punched some random reg in the teeth for no reason,” Crosshair says, rolling his eyes. “If you’re going to keep lying, Hunter, at least make it convincing.”

Hunter glares. “I’m not lying.”

“Then tell us what happened.”

“And then what?” Hunter asks, “You and Wrecker try to find these regs and pick a fight? No. Not happening.”

Tech begins wrapping Hunter’s hand. “Perhaps we can come to a compromise. You tell us the circumstances, but not the parties involved.”

“Why does it matter?” Hunter cries, “It doesn’t matter!”

“Because whatever the issue was, it was worth being outnumbered and fighting back,” Tech replies simply, voice remaining level. “If it matters to you, it most certainly matters to us.”

Hunter takes a steadying breath. “I didn’t punch anyone. I punched a wall,” he bites out. “It was stupid.”

Shocked silence follows the confession, his brothers exchanging glances.

Finally, Tech asks dryly, “And what did this wall do to offend you?”

“It was because of the evaluation this morning,” Crosshair says. He leans forward. “What did those long necks say?”

“What they always say,” Hunter mutters. “Veiled threats, letting me know without directly telling me that if we fail…there’s no point to us. We are experiments that can be thrown away as soon as we aren’t useful. I know they’re just trying to scare me into making sure I keep our records up, to make sure I push you guys in training and simulations. But I’m so kriffing tired of being objects to them.”

“We might be objects to them,” Wrecker says, “but we know better.”

“Wrecker is correct,” Tech says, adjusting his goggles. “Despite the Kaminoans best efforts, we are not exact copies of a desired product. We are individuals. It is a miraculous defect in what they perceived as a flawless design. Even the regs show variance. Whether they acknowledge it or not, it is a fact.”

Hunter glares at the floor. “Facts don’t keep us from being decommissioned, Tech.”

“No, but being the best does.” Crosshair stands up. “And we are the best, and we’ll keep being the best.”

Wrecker laughs. “Yeah, we are! We’re the best squad Kamino has ever seen.”

A grin tugs at the edge of Hunter’s lips. “Yeah, we are the best, aren’t we?”

“That is also a fact,” Tech agrees. He takes Hunter’s injured hand, examining the white bandage already tinged pink with fresh blood. “Next time you forget that, may I recommend a punching bag as a viable alternative to a wall?”

Hunter chuckles. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt @merkitty49 @blackseafoam @illogicaalbraindump

#whumptober2024 #no.16 #wound cleaning #no I can't feel anything #star wars: the bad batch #fic #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #cadet batch #light whump #hurt/comfort #hunter whump

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sansfangirl24 · 6 months ago

Text

How I think the Bakusquad would react to you pulling away from a kiss (part 1)

Warnings: none mostly just fluff and some cussing

(this is my first time doing one of these types of things so please be nice also sorry thats its short its hard to be creative)

(btw this image is not mine so credits to the original creator :D)

Katsuki Bakugo

This man would go crazy "What the H#LL do you think you're doing?" if you ever pulled away when he tried to kiss you, you wouldn't hear the end of it for at least a week even when he does forgive you before then he'll make little comments about it (cause we all know he holds grudges)

he'll proceed to go on a rant about how 'this is the dumbest s##t you've ever done' no matter your excuse whether it's valid or not you definitely won't be getting any affection for a good 30 minutes at the least. when he does decide to forgive you though (after a million begs and pleases) he'll pull away when you try to give him an apology kiss and as you sit there with an offended face, he'll just smirk and say: "yeah how's it feel dumb#ss?" you can't help but hate him and love him at the same time. oh and no doubt about it you'll get the most passionate rough kisses from him the entire week.

Eijiro Kirishima

He would be shocked at first but then it would slowly morph into sadness and as you quickly try to explain why you didn't give him a kiss, he'd already be ignoring you (not on purpose) and thinking in his head what on earth he did wrong and how he could make it up to you. the poor guy just wants you to be happy :(

after the incident (and you saying a million times how it was because you got distracted and that you weren't mad at him) he'd spend a good two weeks giving you random presents to make it up to you even though he didn't do anything wrong "baby? I got your favorite snacks while I was out" "hey baby-shark! I bought you a plushie!" this man will always try to make you happy whether he did something wrong or not and you better give him lots of kisses for his sake and your's.

Denki Kaminari

I think he'd gladly do skincare stuff with you if you were into that sorta thing, but he would also forget that stuff couldn't get into his mouth so when he tried to kiss your cheek when you had a face mask on and you pulled away from him.. he just rolled himself into a little ball on the floor and cried his eyes out. he would do an ugly cry too red eyes, snot and all.

you would immediately be surprised by this and ask him what's wrong and when he was able to finally speak, he'd look up at you and in the most dramatic voice say: "you don't love me anymore!" and thats how you would end up cuddling with him on the couch and stroking his hair and giving him little kisses while you both watched his favorite show (probably something having to do with cars) as a way to make up for not letting him kiss you. this how it ended every time he didn't get his way though so you were used to it and you didn't mind it

uggggggh- okay! that was part 1. hopefully it was okay it was kinda lazy and short but we're surviving. tell me what you guys thought and uh yeah

part 2 will be here when I feel like it

#mha #bakusquad #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha kirishima #eijirou kirishima #mha denki #denki kaminari #bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #denki x reader

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tojisblade · 11 months ago

Text

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄 2

— 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑�� / 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

continuation of this fic (please read for more / better context)

wc; 5.1k (I don't know what happened to me)

content: kento x reader, toji x reader (separately)

warnings: (this is all with toji unless noted otherwise) unprotected sex, overstimulation, breeding kink, oral (toji & reader receiving), fingering, angst, kento gets his heart broken (i'm so sorry), possessive!toji

this is not proofread. i was too tired. please let me know if there is something that makes no sense lmao

taglist: @natriae @sircatchungus @vlsquuu @m0nsterzl0ve @444choso @mikk-o @tian-monique @r0ckst4rjk

you declined every single phone call coming in.

no matter who it was from, whether it was hana, toji or kento, or somebody from work wanting to update you with something, you didn’t care. you were just sitting in your car, parked on the side of the road as you were just sobbing and trying to figure out what the fuck you were going to do.

you loved kento. you loved him so much and it hurt you so much that you were the one who caused him so much heartbreak when you vowed to him on your wedding day that you would never do such thing.

well… things just don’t turn out the way they should, huh?

you hated every single bit of yourself that made you so obsessed with work and so negligent of what really mattered in life.

getting sick and tired of the constant ringing of your phone, you picked up; “what? what the fuck do you want?”, you yelled.

“sorry, sweetie. i… just got worried”, toji mumbled softly, his voice immediately relaxing you.

“i’m so sorry, toji. i didn’t mean to yell at you. what’s up?” “i was just wondering how you were doing after what happened last night? did you… meet him?”, he asked.

“mhm. i did. i was there just now”, you replied, putting the call on speakerphone and leaving it on the passenger seat. “it was… intense.”

“i can imagine. do you need to talk about it?”, he offered. you shook your head until you remembered that he couldn’t see you.

“no, it’s alright. i’m just… going home now. i need to rest. is that okay? i’m just so tired.”

“that’s okay, sweetheart. rest well, yeah? how far away from home are you? do you want me to pick you up somewhere?”

“toji, listen. that’s all so sweet and everything but i just want to be left alone. is that too hard to understand?”, you finally snapped, the frustrations of everything that was happening finally getting to you. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to snap at you. you… were just trying to be nice. i’m just so exhausted. the talk with kento didn’t go as well as i had hoped and it just bugged the hell out of me. i’m going to hang up now, yeah? sorry.”

once you ended the call without waiting for his reply, you hit your head against the steering wheel, jolting as the horn suddenly went off. “fuck!”, you yelled out, in hopes that screaming would help you.

it didn’t.

—

once you were settled back at home, you went back to your old habits of grabbing the nearest bottle of wine and just starting to drink directly from it. once the thoughts and memories were blurred enough, you were just sitting in silence on your couch, hating yourself for how much you hurt the one person you always claimed to love so much.

drunk actions were mistakes most of the time. and you did one massive one after drinking too much once more.

because you called kento as you were sobbing, speaking on his voicemail how you hate yourself for hurting him, how you wish you could turn back time and be the wife you wanted to be for him.

everything just hurt. your heart hurt as you cried before you hung up the phone and just laid there on the couch, still and just staring at the ceiling. you didn‘t even realize how much time passed as you were lost in your thoughts.

you heard the door unlock, confused at who it possibly could be as you sat up. you lived alone so who the hell could this be?

“sweetie? y/n, hey, look at me. are you okay?”, the voice was familiar but it felt like it was coming from miles away. “god, how much did you drink? okay, fuck, uhm, hold on.”

you were carefully laid back onto the couch as the person disappeared in the kitchen, returning with a glass of water.

“nanami? what are you doing here?”, you slurred as you finally recognized your ex-husband after he made you drink the glass of water.

“your call had me worried so i asked hana for your spare key that you left with her. i’m… sorry. i shouldn’t have come.”

“no… thank you. you always take care of me. i’m so sorry for everything”, you mumbled as everything you ate and drank tonight slowly started coming up. “oh, shit.” were the only two words coming out of you mouth as you got up and quickly went to the bathroom to vomit.

nanami followed you quickly and held you from behind so that you didn’t lose your balance.

once you were done and sitting on the cold tiles of your bathroom, you were slowly sobering up, looking at me.

“i don’t even remember calling you.”

“well, i guess you thought it went to voicemail but it didn’t. you were rambling on and on and i just… had to make sure you were okay”, nanami then said. “listen–”

“kento, no. i’m still too drunk and hungover at the same time – don’t ask how, i don’t know either – to talk about this. i just… want to sleep. please?”, you asked him.

he could see in how your body slacked against the bathtub how exhausted you really were and nodded. “are you done here?”, he pointed to the toilet and you nodded. he got up from next to you and lifted you up with ease; you wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to your bedroom and let you sit on the bed.

“let me get you changed, yeah?”

you were too powerless to disagree, so you just nodded and let him do his work. he grabbed some pajamas and undressed you before he helped you into the fresh set of clothes, putting the dirty clothes into the laundry basket before he carefully put the blanket on you.

kento quickly oriented himself around, placing a bucket next to the bed in case you had to vomit again, looking around and placed a carafe and a glass of water on the nightstand. he cleaned up as much as he could and got too exhausted at the process.

he would just sit down on the couch for a bit…

he fell asleep.

—

when you woke up, you were extremely confused. you were in pajamas, a carafe with water on your nightstand and you sighed, smiling softly. you carefully got up and went to the kitchen slash living room. when you saw kento hugging himself tightly, shivering as he wasn’t covered with a blanket.

you felt so horrible that you quickly went to grab a thick blanket to put it on him, your emotions on such a massive overdrive that you had tears in your eyes once again. he stayed over all night because of you, huh?

you put something easy together to cook, not feeling perfect yet to cook something proper but it was important you got something down before you took your pain meds.

“wait, let me help you with that”, kento suddenly appeared behind you and grabbed some of the eggs you were holding in your hand.

“good morning”, you smiled at him. “i’m sorry i called you last night. i shouldn’t have. it was wrong of me.”

“hey, maybe this was something like a sign for us both to have a proper conversation, huh? yesterday didn’t go as well so we could try today again? just to talk. i promise. we should be able to be civil enough to hold a regular conversation, right?”

you nodded. “let’s make breakfast together and then we can talk?”, you suggested and he agreed.

once the breakfast was ready and served, you sat across from each other and dove in.

“so… let’s set some little boundaries first: you don’t have to answer anything you’re not comfortable with. but i hope that you answer everything i ask truthfully. i will do the same”, kento started. “with that… can i ask who that was two days ago?”

“that was uh… toji. fushiguro toji. i met him at a bar when i needed to clear my head and he was the bartender. we got into talking, he asked me out but it was just a little dinner between two people. it ended up being more afterwards. we just slept together. i made it clear to him that i was not ready for a relationship at the moment”, you replied truthfully and honestly.

“so… you didn’t know him… before?”

“no. as i said yesterday, i never cheated on you or have considered cheating on you throughout our entire relationship and marriage. what… about you? met someone new yet?”

he just shook his head.

“i’m still kind of processing the divorce”, kento replied.

“i want to apologize, kento. for how i handled the last moments of our relationship. it was not fair of me and i realize now the many mistakes i made during our marriage”, you mumbled. “and me sleeping with somebody else so quickly after probably made you doubt everything you believed in. god, i’m so stupid.”

“no, listen, sweetie. i’m not angry that you slept with someone else. it’s okay. i promise. we’re no longer married, you have no sort of commitment to me and you’re absolutely free to do whatever you like”, kento replied, smiling softly.

“i missed being able to talk to you like this. maybe not this specific topic but… i really did”, you mumbled, chuckling.

“me, too, sweetie. me, too.”

—

kento ended up staying until evening again. you spent some time together, talking, especially about things you would have done differently if you had realized them before. you drank some alcohol-free cocktails he made, as you were dancing around your apartment with your most favorite songs playing.

he watched you, finding you so adorable and endearing. it felt like the times before everything fell apart. where you were still happy.

kento grabbed you by your waist and held you close by, spinning you around for a moment before he pulled you in close again, looking down at you as he smiled softly. he was so enchanted by your eyes, the way they sparkled and he just couldn’t hold himself back – he missed kissing those pretty lips of yours way too much to stop himself.

“kento”, you sighed, oh, so gently against his lips, slowly melting into the kiss as it got more intense. “we…”

“shh”, he shushed you, before he kissed you again, fingers entangling in your hair as he pulled you in closer. “just… let me have this.”

you stopped resisting altogether as he finally kissed you like he wanted for so long, it felt like you were back in your early twenties, so needy and desperate for each other as he slowly moved you back against the wall. “kento”, you whined softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “we really shouldn’t.”

“i know… but why does it feel so right, huh?”, he asked, interrupting any further answers with another kiss, before he quickly moved to your neck, you let out a soft whine as you felt his teeth gently graze your skin.

“i don’t know”, you whispered, moving your hands slowly to his hair as you played with the strands. “it does feel really fucking right, though.”

kento chuckled at your brash wording, shaking his head. “i missed this so much, baby. can i…?”, he questioned then, pointing at your pajama top – you hadn’t changed from what he had put on you since waking up this morning because you had been lazy as hell. “i need you.”

desperate kento had been a rare sight even when you were still married and happy. he was such a composed man, even when you were still young and naive. so, seeing him like this and directly asking you if he could take off your clothes was a surprise. a pleasant one at that.

you didn’t know what would come out if you’d open your mouth so you just ended up nodding. he smiled softly, grabbing your top’s hem and pulling it off your body. his lips started wandering down your neck and collarbones before he slowly went down on his knees as he couldn’t bow down anymore.

kento was leaving soft kisses over your stomach before he looked up at you again, silently asking if he could pull your shorts down. once you nodded, he pulled on the fabric, revealing your panties and he pulled those aside before he planted a gentle kiss on your clit. that simple action had you arch into him, you hadn’t seen him going down on you in months and it was incredibly hot.

he licked over your wet folds and he slowly grew into it, lifting your leg over his shoulder for better access. you were just able to bury your fingers in his hair and try your best to keep your balance; his grip on your legs was more than enough however. kento was desperate to get a taste of you, having missed you so much in those past months you had been distant to him.

“fuck, sweetheart”, he groaned as he stopped for a moment, leaving kisses over your thighs, edging you. “i should keep on edging you.”

he let out a chuckle as you shook your head in protest. “oh, but i should, sweetie. remember when you stopped paying attention to me? i should punish you for that and keep you waiting just like you kept me waiting for you.”

“not fair”, you whined when you felt his lips on your pussy again, tugging on his hair as pleasure rushed through your body once more, a soft whine leaving your lips as you melted into it again and this time, kento didn’t stop. he kept on sucking, licking and bringing you to the edge over and over but always careful to stop just before you could come on his tongue.

“i’m sorry, fuck, kento, please!”, you cried out, whining and finally kento had mercy on you and had you shaking and trembling in his grip, tongue flicking over that sensitive nub over and over even after you were going through the last few aftershocks of your orgasm.

once you had calmed down and noticed kento standing in front of you again, you realized what the hell you were doing right now.

“kento, we shouldn’t. we really shouldn’t. right? i’m so confused right now. fuck”, you mumbled. it felt so good, so fucking right but was it really?

“i know…”, he whispered gently, not judging you for your confliction. “i love you, y/n. more than i could possibly put into words. but if you’re unsure about this right now, maybe… it’s a better idea if i leave.”

you were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t even notice kento gently kissing you one last time, grabbing his coat and leaving your apartment silently, leaving you naked in your apartment.

—

“you did what?”, hana yelled at you over the phone.

“listen– i don’t know what happened. and i stopped it as soon as i came to the realization but i guess it may have been a tiny bit late”, you replied as you laid down in your bed and cuddled up into the warm blanket.

“a little bit is kind of undermining the whole situation, huh?”, hana replied with a sigh. “what about toji? have you talked to him ever since two nights ago?”

“yeah, he called asking how i was doing once but i was in such a bad mood because of the whole thing with kento i snapped at him, too, and he hasn’t attempted to contact me since. i was thinking of calling and apologizing again though. he didn’t deserve that kind of treatment after how nice he was to me.”

“yeah, maybe you’ll fuck him again, too”, hana said, tone slightly snappy and sarcastic. she tried to mask it but you heard it.

“do you have a problem with me, hana?”, you asked.

“you sleep with one guy, go back to your ex, almost sleep with him again and now you want to apologize to your one-night-stand for treating him bad once? fucking hell, y/n, get yourself together. you’re twenty-six, not eighteen”, hana snapped, anger brewing in her voice.

“i just asked for your advice. but alright. i know what i need to do anyway. have a good night”, you replied with a cold tone in your voice before you hung up and turned around in bed, trying to fall asleep.

—

“i’m sorry if i made things awkward that night when i suddenly appeared in front of you when you had somebody over”, nanami started with a gentle and apologetic smile. it was the first time you both saw each other in now over a month ever since the divorce was finalized.

“ah, that’s… okay. it was a bit awkward to explain at first but i’m glad we’re able to meet one more time. especially after yesterday, i guess”, you asked.

after you had your first sexual encounter in months with fushiguro toji, your ex-husband had suddenly appeared at your new house, asking for one meet-up to chat and talk everything out. that convo had been long overdue and nanami had found the perfect moment to come see you when you were clothed in toji’s stuff and recovering from all the sex you had that night.

and then he ate you out after taking care of drunk-you. hana was right. you had to get a grip on your life again. this was no way to continue on.

“well… i have been better”, he chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “i missed you.”

it felt so wrong to hear him say those words when he was the one asking for separation. it all just felt so wrong. you shouldn’t be here with him. you should be at home or in your office doing your work. you should be anywhere except here with him, especially not in your old home that you shared for five whole years.

“kento, why are we here? why are you here?”, you wanted to skip the small talk and just get to the point. “it’s been over a month since we divorced. why are you here? and why are you still wearing your ring? why were you there last night, cleaning after my mess and taking care of me?”

you had noticed the golden band around his ring finger last night already. your brain however didn’t want to process that it was the ring you had put on his finger five years ago with the vow of never doing any mistake to make him remove it.

“because i… i can’t get over you. fuck, i tried. i tried so many times, for so fucking long. i just can’t”, kento grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “i miss you and i need you. the divorce was the biggest mistake i’ve ever made. please. give us another chance?”

you immediately pulled your hand away again.

“kento, we can’t. you asked for the divorce, i accepted because you were right. i would never be the wife you need. even during an entire month of not being in public, all i could think of was work and the newest headlines i could create. please. don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be, sweetie”, you begged, grabbing his hand once more but this time to remove the ring from his finger and place it in the middle of the table.

“this ended the night you told me you were tired. we ended the night you told me you wanted a divorce”, you continued. “don’t do this to yourself. listen, i love you. i’ve always loved you, it has always been you and nobody else. if this is your way of figuring out if i ever cheated on you or something, no. i have never been unloyal to you, sweetie. i swear. you were and always will be my one true love. but it’s time for us both to move on, hm?”

tears were rolling down your cheeks but you ignored them, letting go of his hand for the last time. “please, kento. i don’t care if you want to hurt me in any way but please. don’t hurt yourself. you don’t deserve all that heartbreak. and i’m sorry that i was the one who ended up causing you to hurt this way.”

—

once you were home, there was toji sitting on the ground in your entrance, waiting for you to come home.

“what are you doing here?”, you asked him as he got up, smiling at you.

“i had to see you. i didn’t like how we ended yesterday’s conversation. i just… needed to make sure you were really okay”, he replied, sighing. he followed you inside as you unlocked your front door and sat down on the couch. “come here.”

he had clearly noticed you just had gone through something emotional – your eyes were reddened from crying and you broke down as you wrapped your arms around his neck and you were seated on his lap. tears were rolling down your eyes again as you explained what had happened earlier that day with kento and how you couldn’t even confide in hana anymore because she was tired of your indecisiveness.

you were, too.

“so… he was here, and he ate you out, huh?”, he mumbled to himself, unexplainable jealousy overpowering every nerve in his body and he acted without being able to think rationally.

“yeah? is that the only thing you got from my sob story?”, you shook your head, rolling your eyes.

“of course not. that part just stuck out to me because… considering i was quite literally fucking your brain’s out two nights ago. wasn’t me enough, sweetheart?”, he asked with a dark chuckle.

“are you acting you’re jealous right now? because i can’t really deal with this right now, toji. we’re not together, we went on one single date and fucked once. you don’t get to play the jealousy card”, you got defensive quite quickly and he lifted his hands to pull a ‘i’m kidding’ card, giggling.

“i’m just playing with you, sweetcheeks. of course, i’m aware of that. but let me just play around a little with you, it’s fun to see you so wild and frustrated”, he laughed. “let me kiss those pretty lips as an apology, hm? how does that sound?”

you couldn’t help but remember the way he had kissed you two nights prior, with so much passion and need. would he kiss like that again? would there more happening? you were painfully aware of what a mistake this would be again, but there was something so compelling about this man that you couldn’t simply refuse.

you just couldn‘t stop thinking about it. and how good of a distraction this would be.

he held your chin between his thumb and index finger, kissing you oh, so gently, surprising you fully.

“missed those pretty lips of yours”, he mumbled, softly pulling on your lips with his thumb before he kissed you again. “they were so mean to me yesterday and now you’re just sitting so prettily on my lap, just waiting for me to kiss you again.”

“mhm”, you agreed lazily, humming softly.

the next kiss was a repetition of two nights ago – rough, needy and desperate as you fiddled with his shirt and pulled the fabric off his skin, feeling up his gorgeous, muscular body as you enjoyed the feeling of him holding you in his grasp.

“toji, god, i shouldn’t but this… i need you, need you to distract me, huh?”, you whispered, kissing all over his cheek, jaw, neck and down his collarbone as you slowly slid off his lap and pulled down his joggers, quickly had your lips around his tip. you did all this so fast he hadn’t even time to process what was happening.

the groan he let out was loud, he was immediately melting into it as his cock got harder with each little suck, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips jerked into your mouth.

“come on, baby, you can take it, huh? take me deeper, all the way down your throat, baby”, he amped you up, you started going really down on him, gagging as his tip hit the back of your throat. you hadn’t even taken in all of him so you wrapped your hand around the base as you jerked him off with each move up and down.

“fuck, such a good girl for me, huh? taking me so fucking good, baby, you’re so good to me”, he groaned, grabbing the back of your head as he guided your head down, watching the saliva dripping down your chin and he just smiled.

his hips jerked up as he was slowly reaching the edge, giving you a final warning before he came deep down your throat, waiting for you to swallow it.

“such a good girl for me, aren’t you, baby? did so well for me”, he praised you, your cheeks heating up as you wiped off the saliva from your mouth. you grew a little shy as you didn’t reply, you slowly removed your panties from under your dress and got back up as you sat down on his lap again and aligning his leaking tip with your wet entrance, before he could protest and stop you from riding him without any sort of prep, you quickly sank down on his cock – quite easily, too, to his surprise.

“ah, fuck, such a good pussy”, he grunted, hands around your hips as he set a fast and rough pace of him slamming you down on his cock.

“t-toji!”, you cried out, trying to hold onto him as best as possible as he fucked you, “so, so good, don’t stop.”

“feeling good, sweetheart? did he make you feel this good, too? did you let him fuck you?”, he grunted with each thrust, he hated how childish he was acting but the way you squeezed around him was just too much for him, his brain was clouded and he couldn’t think straight.

“n-no!”, you whimpered, shaking your head.

“good. because you know what?”, he asked, tone sharp.

you couldn’t even reply, everything slowly went blurry as you neared your first orgasm.

“this pretty pussy’s all mine, baby. just mine”, he hissed before he slammed your hips down particularly rough, making you cry out as you came around him, leaving a creamy ring around his base as he didn’t stop and proceeded overstimulating your body.

“gonna cum in your sweet pussy, mark you all mine. you’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”, he groaned, he was fucking you fast and rough, a shimmer of sweat was already covering his body and the overstimulation of his cock with the blowjob from earlier had him keep you down connected to his cock for a moment as he spilled his cum deep inside.

“fuck, taking all of this so good, taking all of me so fucking good, sweetheart”, he groaned, pulling out as he watched his cum slowly drip out.

“so, how about i take you to your bedroom and make you remember how good i fuck you, hm?”

—

once more, you were underneath him, this time fully naked as toji climbed on top of you and had his cock buried deep inside of you with a swift motion, your arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders as he breathed out and buried his head against your neck.

“fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart. can’t get enough of your pretty pussy”, he grunted as he slowly started building a rhythmic pace, the sound of skin slapping on skin was like music to your ears and he watched your every reaction.

your eyes rolled back as pleasure overtook every part of your body, back arching against him as he wrapped his one arm around your waist to have a better grip on your body and the other arm sneaked up next to yours and entangled your hands with each other.

“toji, fuck, please, fuck me”, you begged, “need it harder.”

“harder? do you think you can handle that, baby?”, he mocked you, laughing, but he complied, his pace growing faster and more erratic as his overstimulated body was close to another release yet again.

“want me to bury my cum inside your pussy again, baby? mark you fully as mine as i make a mess of you and your pretty cunt?”, he groaned. you could only nod in response.

you lost count of how many times toji fucked you that night.

no matter how many breaks you took, how many times he stopped for a moment to catch his breath before proceeding, he was relentless, desperate for more, more and more.

toji had grown fully addicted to your taste and the way you felt around him, the way you made him feel.

“gonna cum again, sweetie, fuck, you’re taking me so well, doing so fucking good for me, princess”, he praised you once more, before his body started trembling again and you felt his cock twitch inside of you, filling you up again.

“i-i can-can’t anymore”, you whimpered, body limp and exhausted, desperate of a break.

“you can, baby. you can, you took more than this two nights ago, i know you can”, toji protested, but he pulled out nevertheless and jerked off, splatters of his cum decorating your stomach and chest.

“you’re so gorgeous, such a beautiful mess for me, baby”, he mumbled, laying down next to you as he pulled you in close. “and all mine to fuck.”

“not yours.”

you let out a cry as you felt his hand sneak around your body and his fingers play with your clit, slowly rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves as you came once more, crying out as everything was blurry.

“all. mine”, he repeated before he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, turning you onto your back again before he started with his sweet torture once again, just not with his cock but his fingers, either playing with your clit or easing a finger inside easily.

“shh, shhh, such a good girl for me, taking everything i give you so well, baby. you deserve the world, deserve to feel happy and taken care of, don’t you?”, he whispered, talking sweet nothings to you as he made you forget about everything and anything happening to you in the past two days, except for him and him alone.

because after all, nothing else mattered except for him and you.

i wasn‘t honestly sure how to end this so i decided on an open ending for this one. i‘ll leave it up to your imagination if toji and y/n ended up getting together again. let me know what you think of this because this was the longest thing i’ve written in years and i’m actually really proud of it.

since you‘re here, please watch these. educational videos on tiktok about 🍉

thank u for inspiring me to do this @spideyyeet i should have done this a long time ago.

link (trigger warning)

link

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im14andivebeen14foramonth · 4 months ago

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ADHD CURTIS BROTHERS HCS PLEASEEEEE 🙏

YESSS I FUCK WITH THIS HEAVY

Ponyboy

pony's most apparent symptom is his inattentiveness. his head is always up in the clouds, and he spends a looot of time daydreaming

very very very forgetful, mostly about his own needs. he'll go days without brushing his teeth if darry doesn't remind him

pony has a bad habit of zoning out while looking directly at people, so they just look over and his eyes are like wide and glazed over and staring into their souls. it especially freaks steve out for some reason. "QUIT STARING AT ME LIKE THAT!!" "huh?"

he can't get himself to do his homework in a timely manner. he works best under pressure and so he'll just procrastinate it until the night before it's due and then he locks in

when he does lock in like that, he's practically dead to the world. bro forgets to eat and drink and move his body for like hours at a time until darry or soda makes him get up and he's just like "ow. ow. ow. everything hurts"

he's still hyperactive though and it drives darry crazy sometimes. when he's with the rest of the gang is when it really spikes, and he'll start running all around the house with them. darry can tell though when he needs to get his energy out because he'll just start following darry around the house and bounce around or drum his fingers on every single thing he can. when he gets like that, darry will ask him if he wants to go for a run or play football or smthn so that he can get his energy out

bro WILL hyper fixate on every single thing he's interested in, his consistent ones are books and movies, but sometimes he'll just spend hours a day thinking about one specific book or drawing one character from the latest movie he's seen

it's always a 50/50 on whether he's going to have lots of fun or get super overstimulated in different places. like in grocery stores, after a half hour he's ready to start crying and he'll usually just get quiet and not leave darry's side until they leave. but he thrives in other places like fairs and festivals, and enjoys the bright lights and loud music

he doesn't have great control over his temper. he gets frustrated super easily and will get snappy over the smallest things, but almost every time without fail it ends with him crying and feeling bad

Sodapop

this man may just be the most hyperactive person ever

he will NOT stay in one place for more than five minutes at a time. he's always running around the house, and when he does stay in one spot, he's shaking/bouncing his leg the entire time

like pony though, he gets his moments where he locks in and they're the only times that he doesn't break focus no matter what. he'll go from talking nonstop to just being dead silent as he tries to fix something on a car at work and it freaks steve out

he's so bad with rejection :( even if it's something as small as someone saying they don't like his favorite car, or they're not in the mood to talk about horses, he'll get so sad and feel like his interests are stupid

he cries a lot no matter what he's feeling. if he gets frustrated, angry, or scared, he'll start crying and his energy goes through the roof

soda is easily the most forgetful person any of the gang has ever met. he'll forget what day it is, to put shoes on, to take food out of the oven, everything. it's mostly a short-term memory issue. however, his memory will be really good for oddly specific things. steve: "remember that time I got a cold or something in like elementary school and-" "oh yeah that tuesday in october in first grade when you were wearing that red shirt and you kept sneezing during story time :)" "why do you remember that??" "I dunno"

when he gets overstimulated it's BAD. it doesn't happen often, but when it does, he'll break down in tears and refuse to speak to anyone. darry's the only one who can ever calm him down

he stims a lot, usually by playing with the hair on the back of his neck or rubbing whatever shirt he's wearing

Darry

although it may not be as obvious, darry's also on the hyperactive side. he loves football, running, swimming, anything that's high intensity and lets him get his energy out. when he doesn't have a chance to do those things, he'll usually just pace around or do a quick workout

he will drum his fingers every single time he's thinking, he's even worse than pony with it. and if he has a pen in his hand, you better believe he's clicking it nonstop. the amount of dirty looks he got in school for it was crazy

even though he gets on pony for it a lot, darry also zones out a lot. he's usually better at hiding it though, like people will be having full conversations with him and they don't realize that he was zoned out the whole time until they ask him something and he just goes "huh?"

his biggest hyper fixation has always been football. he could talk for hours and hours about any player, team, or game if someone lets him

he did great in school, but he always had to find obscure ways of remembering things for tests and quizzes, he especially did a lot of those acronym things. whenever someone asked him how he did something or remembered something, he would explain his weird system and they would be even more confused

this poor man cannot cope without a schedule. that's a part of the reason why he gets so bothered when pony isn't home at the right time, because it throws off his schedule and then his whole day is ruined

whenever he reads, he can only focus if he sort of murmurs the words the whole time, and he almost always plays with the edges of the paper to keep his focus

when he gets overstimulated, he gets snappy and loud and doesn't want a single person to touch or talk to him

he's big on vocal stims. he hums or mumbles to himself or makes random noises whenever he's trying to focus on something

#the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders book #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #the outsiders ponyboy #the outsiders sodapop #the outsiders darry #curtis brothers

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idyllcy · 8 months ago

Text

how do you like your eggs?

word count: 9.8k

summary: he'll play any role you want him to. including your boyfriend.

three and too young.

The first time you meet Clarence, the two of you are three, round cheeks and barely comprehensible language slipping past your tongue, your eyes big as you stare at Clarence. You do not know him. He does not know you. The two of you are children. That is all that matters. You do not need to question whether or not he would be a good friend. Your mommy knows best.

"I'm so sorry for leaving them here." Your mom sighs, handing Clarence's mom a box and letting her know that you knew what to do in most cases.

You stare at Jaclyn as she offers you her hand, and you wave goodbye to your mom as she's off to work.

"What's your name?"

You pause to think, cheeks puffed out as you tell her with a smile.

"That's cute." She smiles, pausing. "Do you have any siblings?"

You blink up at her instead, squeezing her hand. "Do you have any siblings?"

"I have a younger brother." She grins, taking you to her room. "I think he's the same age as you."

You blink up at her, nodding. "Daddy tells me boys are scary."

Jaclyn laughs, warmth spreading through her chest as. you blink at her. "Yeah? Is your daddy scary?"

"Daddy says only he's de... dependible."

Jaclyn nods. "Let's stay girls only then, hm?"

You nod in agreement, little brows pulled into a frown as you follow Jaclyn into her room.

In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of a blue-haired boy, eyes big as he stares at you enter his sister's room.

You wonder who that was.

Your first meeting is less a meeting and more a glimpse, so when you visit Jaclyn a year later, language much more articulated as you greet their mom, you see Clarence stare at you from the staircase.

"Oh! Jaclyn is out for a shoot today, but Clarence is here. Did you get to meet him last time?"

You shake your head. Yet, fuelled by a four year old's energy and extrovert tendencies, you race up the stairs to chase after him, holding the door open as he tries to close it on you, fear rattling through his body at this unknown person who was trying to pry open his door. It's a little dramatic on his end, but he's always had some sort of a fear over his sister's friends. She's never at school enough to have normal friends, so the vast majority of them were famous in some way. If he's learned anything, he knows not to get involved with the actresses his sister's bringing home for playdates.

"I don't wanna be friends with an actor!" He cries.

"I'm not a movie star!" You yell back, face pulled into a look of annoyance as you finally pry the door open from his hands. You fall forward onto your face with a yell, whining as you roll to the side to stare up at your little opponent with a frown. He stares down at you with a pout, raising a brow as you realize how cold his room is.

"I'm Clarence." He huffs.

You tell him your name, shaking as you sniffle from the temperature. It's winter. Is this guy psycho?

You blink at him. "Why didn't you let me in? Isn't it common courtesy to take care of guests?"

"I thought you were a celebrity." He pouts.

You find Jaclyn's brother to be... insane.

Yet, you sit through the rest of the day with him, blinking at him as he shows you his books on history, rambling about the history of the planet to you. You're intrigued that so much knowledge can be held in hands the same size as yours. You tell your mommy about the history of the land you in habit on your way home, cheeks warm as she tells you how good of a job you did and how smart you were.

You wonder if Clarence knew anything else about the planet the two of you stayed on.

The next time you visit, Jaclyn is out again, and Clarence reluctantly lets you into his room. You sit on the ground as he stares at you, and before he can start, you info dump on him. You tell him about what you had found out during the time that the two of you were apart, detailing the parts of history he missed, diving into detail on the world that the two of you stood on. He blinks at you, cheeks growing red, eyes big as you give him a pose of victory and ask if your research was correct.

He laughs, cheeks pink and ears red as he tells you yes.

He spends the rest of the evening rambling to you about stuff you didn't get to listen about last time. You wonder how long he had to hold it in, but it doesn't matter that much. You blink at him, wide-eyed something brooding in the back of your head as you swear you're going to become smarter than him one day. You're going to become a genius that not even Jaclyn's brother can overtake. You will become an unstoppable force — which is really out of as much spite as a five year old can muster. If he's receiving an award, you are too. You'll make sure of it.

So, you ask your mom to enroll you at his school, going head to head against him in every competition he enrolls in, always coming out second as you huff, cheeks round as Jaclyn hushes you, assuring you you're number one in her heart. That's not enough. You need to prove to the world that Clarence is second to you. You have to be smarter than him. You're not losing to some boy. That's stupid, and you are not stupid.

So, you dive head first into your studies, brain spinning painfully occasionally, fingers itching for you to create, mind dragging you to the abyss, endless knowledge bleeding past your fingers, crawling up your arm into your mind, some sort of desperation to prove that you are smarter than Clarence there. You do not know why you do it. Perhaps it's a sense of self-destruction or a spite that hating someone enough could bring you to. So, when Clarence enters showbiz like his sister, you follow after, booking left and right as you stay top of your class despite your absences.

Clarence is known to stay away from any actor that is not his sister — with the exception of you. For some twisted reason, you are continually cast as Clarence's lover in his dramas, his fingers gentle on your skin as the two of you chase after each other in emptied classrooms, biting his hand in certain scenes as he holds you in others, rain cold on his back. The umbrella in his hand falls to the ground as you blink at him through tear-stained lashes, mustering your best doe eyes as you read him for something. Instead, he leans down, lips pressed to yours, stealing away your first kiss in front of all your viewers.

That is enough to launch the two of you into fame.

You're only slightly nerved by the couple edits, lashes full as you blink at the paparazzi, smile on your face and honeyed words on your lips. During the tour, you use Clarence as a shield, still unused to all the fame and fans, finding that one smile from you is enough to warrant a crowd of screams. Clarence, pulls you along behind him, chiding you whenever you do it for fun. You only pout at him. He looks to the side, pushing you along first to enter the car.

You wave bye to your fans one last time before you do, earning another crowd of screams.

Eventually, the two of you detach from each other in fame, Clarence taking a head dive first into playing less romance roles and more serious ones as you stay playing high school romances, adaptations coming true from the novels as you play the female lead's best friend almost always. You become known as a second choice, an indication that your acting would overtake the female lead and your popularity would soar. You wonder why you are never booked for the main lead, though. Yet, you don't worry about it. When you see the actors kissing like that after knowing them for only a few days, it's not on your wishlist.

Yet, when you're given the chance to book a role as Jaclyn's lead, you take it. You don't care if you're kissing your best friend. You're kissing her.

"So?"

"We've come full circle." You grin. "I bet Clarence won't talk to me now since I'm one of your actor friends."

"Is that what he yelled at you?" Jaclyn clicks her tongue, sighing. "Well, he probably won't talk to you because we're going to kiss."

You grin, cheeks warm. "I can't believe I get to kiss you on national television."

Jaclyn laughs, hitting your shoulder as she catches her breath. "I bet you were waiting for this."

"Oh, hell yes." You mumble, continuing through your script. "I don't show up that often, though."

"It's because we'd get flamed for doing too much." Jaclyn hums. "Come over sometime. I'm sure Clarence is dying to see you again."

You glance at her, shaking your head. "Come on."

Jaclyn runs into your arms, full of tears as the scene starts, and you crouch down to wipe her tears, asking her what was wrong. Your character was a second choice — strangely enough, a second choice that was the only character to ever kiss Jaclyn's. You suppose it's a buff of some sort, yet as she straddles you on your couch, crying for you to kiss her, you grimace at her, heart heavy as she asks you if it's alright quietly. You relent, leaning forward slightly to brush your lips against hers, throwing your head back as she kisses down to your neck, bare skin pressed to yours as the two of you stay there, unmoving.

The director yells cut as Jaclyn surges back down to kiss you again.

"Wow." You pause. "Do you think I'll lose my virginity on camera too?"

Jaclyn looks down at you in concern. "I sure hope not."

Your final scene with the cast is with the rest of the team, bittersweet smile on your face as Jaclyn picks the male lead over you. You find it sickening in your role, your character is bitter beyond repair, but you do not comment nor speak. Instead, you stand there in the background of the last shot, waiting for the director to call cut so you can release yourself from the role. You're sure Jaclyn's going to call you over to her place for a watch party when it finally airs. You're not excited for the comments the media is going to have once it airs.

Yet, you attend the press tour, laugh on your lips as the interviewers ask you questions. You play into your role too well, cheeks warm and flushed whenever Jaclyn speaks. You spend your nights doomscrolling through couple edits of the two of you. You suppose that no matter what you do, you'll always end up back in their family.

You're halfway through the press tour when you receive the news that your mother is sick.

You leave immediately.

The paparazzi crowds outside the hospital when you visit, your fingers laced through your mom's as she assures you that she's alright. You know she is not. She hasn't been very well since the death of your dad. You hold her cold hands to your cheek instead, assuring her that your role in the industry was second to her. It does not matter all that much. As long as you get to spend the rest of her life with her, you would stop at nothing.

Fans send you flowers, your manager bringing a new bouquet for the room each time she comes. You grow thinner, weight shedding off your body as you prioritize your mom, her fingers laced through yours as you watch her take her last breath — and for a moment in time, your own heart stops. You were prepared, you believed, but when you lose your mom the first and only time of your life, you do not know what to do.

Your life seems to stop when you do, blinking slowly as you finish her funeral, grieving visible on your face as Jaclyn holds you in her arms. You bury your face in her shoulder, breathing labored as you hold back the tears out of a fear for the paparazzi. They could be anywhere. You hold onto the necklace your mother left, and you stare at the man who will be your guardian for the next years of your life. You wonder if he will let you continue down the path you've decided to take. He works a plain office job, after all.

"Do you want to continue?" He hands you a mug of hot cocoa, sitting down across from you as you stare at the scripts you would audition for.

"In half a year." You mumble. "Or longer. I need to grieve."

The media forgets about you in half a year. You do not start from rock bottom, but your manager gives you a hard time for taking so much time off, your acting intensified further as she wonders if you should start playing the role of the antagonist instead of the second choice. You don't care. You stopped flying, and now you were back to where you started.

It makes you bitter — seeing Clarence get praised for both his brain and beauty.

So, you spend your time playing the role of the villain, pouring tea onto people's hair on camera while you apologize as soon as the cameras are cut, helping the staff wipe down the female lead always. You make new friends, your smile contagious behind the role of your character, finding that it is much easier to detach from the skin you assign yourself in your roles. You suppose playing the villain is better than playing the second lead. The hate is around the same, and arguably, you've received much more traction for how intense you are in the roles you play.

Your manager starts booking roles for variety shows with you as well.

You hold hands with other celebrities, chasing them with pool noodles as you promote your new dramas, cheeks pulled into a sweet smile as you tell everyone about your role as the main antagonist. It's fun. You find it fun. You find it fun.

So fun, that you forget that you're supposed to be out-doing Clarence. You suppose it's a little too silly for you now, but you find the rivalry funny. You're a different person because of what you wanted to accomplish because of him. You try not to think too much about the fact that you lost your first kiss to him on set because the two of you had debuted as a duo. Sometimes you go. back to watch the edit videos fans made of the two of you back when you first debuted. You've grown as a person and changed. You find that to be the funniest part of all of this.

So, when your manager asks if you'd like to book a role as his lover again, you wonder if you've really moved at all.

"It's..."

"A high school drama." You click your tongue. "Am I playing the antagonist again?"

"No. You're going to be the lead... for once." Your manager hands you the script, and you pause.

Someone wrote this role for you.

"Am I auditioning?"

"You're being cast."

You agree to it.

Clarence stares at the script himself, pondering over the role he's playing in the film. It's eerily similar to the role he would have played if you had continued at the same school as him. You left him. Well, left is a little dramatic. You transfered and never returned. That was terrifying for him, perhaps. The vice president had left without a word. He wonders what you felt when only Jaclyn was able to take time to attend your mother's funeral. Maybe this role was created for you. You will shine, he hopes.

He agrees without thinking too much.

Maybe the two of you will become close again.

When Clarence arrives on set, he's surprised to see that the two of you are filming in your old school, his current one. Perhaps this is a film about your life. It is your first big role in a while that wasn't the antagonist of an office drama. He missed seeing you on set at his dramas. Well, to be fair, both of you are on foreign ground. You haven't been a lead in a while, and he hasn't done romance in forever. Someone might call it fate.

Clarence finds you in the old student council room.

"Ah." You stare at Clarence. "It's been a while."

He nods. "How... have you been?"

"I've been alright." You nod.

The silence between the two of you is uncomfortable to an uncanny extent. He misses what the two of you had been for the little while that you had visited his house a child, but he also understands that there was no way for the two of you to return to what you once were. It would be hard, and he would not want it either. He wonders if he'll finally receive the closure he needs in order to move on through the drama. He'll figure it out as he goes.

A person from the directing team interrupts the silence by calling for you.

"There you are. Did you get to memorize the script?"

You nod slowly, waving bye to Clarence as you follow her out.

Clarence wonders if the old notebooks of his past are still locked in the safe in the room.

Maybe he'll return to them one day in the movie.

The first day of shooting, the school's classroom is blocked off. You get to know the other actors, nodding as you listen to the roles that they all have to play. You find Jaclyn too, playing your best friend in the drama. You cling onto her as she shows you her lines, telling you her interpretation as the two of you read over the light novel version of the film. Are you famous? Are you big? You don't know, but you do know that the original writer of the novel was a close friend of yours on the student council team. You wonder why she wrote the novel.

"Is the author joining in on production?"

"She's arriving later on." Jaclyn nods. "You don't get to kiss me in this drama, unfortunately."

You snort. "Aw... really wish this drama was a yuri bait too."

"Well, we can't all be queer characters."

Your role is technically cliché. You're a transfer student desperate to stick out, masking a smile on your face as you try to hide everything that had ever happened to you in the past. You blink owlishly in front of the class, smile on your face as you wave at everyone. The teacher introduces you, and you are seated next to Clarence's character. Your role wonders if it's fate, but it's more of a one sided rivalry. You pretend to be perfect in front of the class, grades only ever placing second to Clarence's character, popularity always falling short of first place to him.

As a result, your character develops a weird sense of inferiority and a need to prove themselves better than the top of the school.

"Silan." You hum, peering at Clarence as he stares at you.

"Yes?"

"What's your secret?"

"Beer." Clarence's character deadpans, rendering yours speechless as he walks off.

"Cut!" The director yells. "Thank you for the good work! That's a wrap for today. It'll rain tomorrow, so we'll get a move on to some of the initial rain scenes tomorrow."

You nod, leaning on the railing of the school, throwing your head back with a sigh. You stare at the script in hand, mumbling the words you need memorized by the next day as you scribble notes on the characterization, wondering if there was a certain way your character was expected to act. You don't know. The way she speaks is all a mask, yet her personality doesn't change much even after she lets the mask down. When you ask the director, all she tells you is to follow your heart. You wonder just who she is.

"Reading?" Clarence steps up to you, and you sigh.

"I don't get her."

He hums neither in agreement nor argument.

"Maybe she's devoid of anything." You sigh. "Something will add color into her life, but I suppose I still don't know just what that something is."

"The rain scene tomorrow might give you an idea."

You glance at the gloomy sky and then at your script. "Perhaps your character brought color into her life."

Clarence pauses to stare at his own script. "Or, perhaps she found color by bringing it into his life."

"Our characters are childhood friends, huh?"

"Yeah." He mumbles. "Childhood neighbors."

Clarence pauses. "Like us."

You don't respond.

The second day of shooting, the two of you are stuck on the school roof together, a bundle of emotions crashing through your character as you try to hide from the rain, desperate to hide what you could of your body. You are not traumatized by your appearance — something else. You hide away from Clarence when his character tries to offer you his jacket, shaking in your skin as you step away from him with wide eyes, backing to the railing of the rooftop as you close your eyes to hide from something. Instead, the cliché scene of romance happens, Clarence's school jacket thrown over your head as you stare up at him, doe-eyed, deer caught in headlights.

It throws Clarence into some sort of daze, staring down at you breathless, heart racing in his chest as the director yells cut to start over again.

"I FINALLY SHED TEARS!??!!" You yell in frustration. "Ugh..."

"Sorry." Clarence nods. "I don't know what happened."

You take the scene again, and Clarence throws his jacket over you, barely batting an eye as he hides you until the scene ends.

You blow your nose after the scene, wrapped in a bundle of towels, back in the warmth of the school. Clarence offers you a cup of warm tea from production, and you thank him with a quiet nod as you drink it. You think you understand something.

So, when you are dried up and shooting a scene in front of the school, missing an umbrella, you stare at the rain in an emotion only you can read from your character. You are sick and tired, mask slipping as everyone else has left from the school. You stand there as you wait for the rain, wondering if you did something wrong to deserve the fate that you have suffered. You try to channel the disgust that only you can experience. You do not want the pity your classmates offer you. You want the comfort of someone to hold you. You wonder if you have a reason to go on.

"Standing all by yourself, class flower?" Clarence's character steps next to you, and you blink wordlessly at him, forcing a smile.

"No. I just... forgot my umbrella."

"I'll take you home. Where do you live?"

You grimace at him.

"You can take mine." He offers you his umbrella, opening it as you stare at it.

"I couldn't possibly let you go in the rain, president Silan." You smile. "You can take it. The rain is supposed to stop in a little bit."

"Then," Clarence fishes out a second umbrella from his bag. "This should work, yes?"

You take the second umbrella with a thank you, opening it as you head on out first with a nod of your head.

"You don't need to keep acting, miss flower." Clarence mumbles quietly before the cameras cut.

"That's a wrap!"

You close the umbrella immediately, tossing it at Clarence as you spin under the rain. You wonder if you look cringe. Maybe you do. That might have just been the role you've been assigned as. You're sure that your character would have truly enjoyed to just bask in the rain and ditch her mask for once, but not now. It was not time yet. So, in place of her, you will. Under the rattling of the rain that might get you sick, you decide to play into the role that the author had created for the girl who learned to despise who she once was.

Clarence watches you, putting both umbrellas on the ground, chasing after you as you pause to stare at him.

"Would he do this?"

"He would." Clarence chases you in the rain, some semblance of childhood returning to both of you. The two of you go on for as long as you can before your managers yell for the two of you to stop goofing off. You find it sweet that both of you can reclaim something that was once lost. Do you love who you are? You don't know. Though, you are aware at the very least that only the two of you can understand your roles in the story. Maybe Clarence knows as well.

Both of you are given an earful once you return, but neither of you fall sick, thankfully.

The third day of shooting stays mostly inside. Your character doesn't do much, but you piece together parts of her personality from the few times that Clarence's character appears in your scenes. She likes savory foods over sweets, prefers cats over dogs, and despises the people of her past. You learn small things of her character that reflect what you once were. You wonder just how much of it your classmate had based off of you. Are you sick? Are you dead? Perhaps you are just deathly fragmented.

"I'll piece you together." Jaclyn whispers, grinning as you stare up at her from your desk.

"What?"

"I'll put you back together, and we'll find the spark of your life." Jaclyn points down at you with a grin. "Come on."

"I don't need to be—"

"You're applying to college soon, right? Come on. Let's find you something you're passionate about."

You hold back your tongue from the words you know your character is thinking. Her passion is being perfect and an ideal. Her passion is to become so perfect that no one can ever touch her ever again — so that one day no one would ever touch her without consequence. Your character wants to become an ideal.

You laugh, waiving Jaclyn off with a wave of your hand. "You free for shopping this week?"

"Yes." Jaclyn hums. "Let's go."

And the scene ends.

You wonder if the shallowness of your character around her friends was meant to reflect something about you.

"I love you." You practice the next scene. It's supposed to be a fake confession to Silan. Yet, the words feel foreign on your tongue. You do not love Silan. Your character has not developed that point yet.

Clarence's character is supposed to turn you down.

"It is something you're doing because of a bet." Clarence hands you a cup of water. "You will be fine."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

The scene starts, the two of you in the student council room, filing papers as you look over everything that needs to be prepared for the school festival. You tell Clarence, wondering when you should confess to him as a joke. The girls in your class had always been too much of a coward to ask him themselves, so you've been forced into the role of the clown.

"Silan, what do you think about Huajie?"

"Not much."

"How about Yueyue?"

"Not much either."

Clarence doesn't spare you a single glance.

"Then... what about me?" You tilt your head cutely, mask on as you blink at him cutely.

Clarence stares at you, tilting his head. "What do you think about me?"

"Not fair! I asked you first!" You huff, finishing your stack.

Clarence stares at you, humming. "I don't like shallow girls."

Your jaw drops in offense, hurt at the statement. You know your character would despise being called shallow, but hearing it from Clarence's mouth hurt twice as much. You huff, growing quiet as you offer to help him with the rest of his stack.

Both of you fail to notice the way Clarence's ears grow red when he lies.

You trail into idle chatter with him for the rest of the scene, head plagued with thoughts of coming off as shallow to him. Maybe he hates you. You wonder if his character hates you, or the fact that you are empty. Maybe there is some sense of hatred to see the friend that one shone brighter than the rest of the world become void of light because of others. Maybe that is what Clarence's character is feeling.

"Silan, do you hate me?"

Clarence stops his work, staring up at you. "No."

"You don't need to lie, you know?"

"I do not hate you. That is too strong of an emotion to feel." He hums. "I would just prefer... never mind."

You both know what he meant to say. Clarence's character would like yours more if you were less shallow.

"Cut!" The director calls. "Good job! Tomorrow will be busy, and then we'll start the scenes at your apartments."

You huff. You're almost done.

"Tomorrow is my confession scene." Clarence hums. "What kind of Silan would you like to see tomorrow?"

You stare at Clarence, unbothered. "An honest one."

An honest one you get.

Clarence does his hair slightly differently than usual, character crawling past your head as he confesses to you, flowers in his hand as you blink blankly at him.

"Will you go out with me?"

"...no." You mumble back immediately, character bleeding through. It's a harsh rejection, but you know she would say it a little more convincingly than you would on your own. She knows her emotions better than anyone despite the self destructive tendencies. She knows herself inside and out, all so that no one could ever hurt her ever again. You wonder if Clarence figured that out too. He probably did. He's always been brighter than you have. Maybe he had been waiting for you to figure out this character since the beginning. That was the role both of you were stuck playing as in the drama.

"Why not?"

You blink blankly at him.

"Alright." You sigh. "Why would I date someone I do not have feelings for?"

"Why not?"

"That is rude."

"Is it really?"

"You're awfully talkative today, class president." You blink at him lifelessly.

"Am I? I'm simply mimicking how you are."

You know he is. Perhaps that's why you are so irritated. You are on the other side of the stick for once. You get why Silan hates your character so much. You do not know what you want, and you pretend it is because you have everything. You are a person void of anything that is of worth.

"I suppose you are." You mumble. "Is that why you are choosing to confess today? Since it is before summer?"

Silan smiles at you. "I will see you at summer classes."

You grimace. "Then why now? Why not next year?"

"I wanted to see if you would be honest with me." He smiles.

Your character would not. There would be no honesty and personality to her until the end of summer, but Clarence must have known that to some extent. Clarence always knows. You wonder if you will ever truly outdo him in the industry and in your roles. You are not someone who is special.

Perhaps you can only shine with Clarence around.

It is a scary thought, but it is not one you have never entertained.

"Cut!" The director yells, and you stay still, staring at Clarence as he stares back, smile on his face as you know what is going to happen next.

"Can we reshoot? This one is for fun."

You groan.

Clarence always knew when a second take would be better than the first.

Your name is called for your opinion, and you grimace, but you do not disagree.

"Be meaner." Clarence nods. "Your character is starting to let the mask crack."

"I can't be mean. She won't let the mask crack." You grimace.

"By the end, when I am pushing for an answer, be mean."

"Ready?" The director waits for Clarence's cue, and you sigh.

Clarence gives a nod before the countdown starts.

Meaner.

"Class flower," Clarence smiles at you.

"Yes?" You tilt your head.

"Will you go out with me?"

You stare at Clarence, blinking to hold back a grimace. "No."

"Why not?"

"I do not like you, class president."

"You confessed to me a while ago."

Improv. Clarence was trying to break you out of what was written in the novel.

"You said you did not like shallow people, president." You force a smile.

"Well, I never said you were shallow."

"But I am." You force the corners of your mouth wider.

"Well, I still want you."

"I am not the one for you, class president." You shake your head.

"How do you know?"

You turn your back to him, stepping forward towards the door of the classroom.

"You know too, Silan." You reach for the door, freezing as Clarence holds his hand over your head, chest pressed to your back as you grimace out of reflex.

"Do I?"

You turn around, hand pressing to his lower abdomen for space, pushing him back as you grimace. You opt to ignore his question and ask another. "Why today? Would it not be funnier to ask me out in front of the whole class?"

"I wanted you to ponder over it." He smiles.

"What pondering is there to do? We both have summer classes."

"Why now, then? Why not at the end of summer?"

Clarence only looks to the side, barely cracking a smile. "I wanted to see if you would be honest with me."

You take the chance to escape from the classroom, leaving Clarence alone in the room as he finally smiles.

"I too, will piece you together."

The director yells cut as you pull open the door again, jumping in your skin at the cheering everyone had for Clarence. He is truly a star. You smile gently at the way he takes everything humbly, only saying that he wished for a second take because he felt as though you were holding back. You were. You did not want your own mask to bleed into hers. Perhaps you feared that you would become her if you became too vulnerable.

You wonder if you will ever shake free from your character.

Clarence takes the chance to slip away from the crew and run off with your wrist in his hand.

"Where— where are we going?"

Clarence only offers a smile. "I stole the keys. Where do you want to go?"

You wonder just where you want to go.

Then, you pause. "God, I want beef noodle soup so bad."

"Let's go." Clarence pulls you into his arms as he throws you over his shoulder, earning a yell from you. It's strange. Clarence would never act this way. Clarence knew the paparazzi better than they knew themselves, so he would never let himself go out with someone like this. You wonder what has changed. Perhaps he is just needs someone to listen. You suppose you're good at that, at the very least.

"Any place in particular?"

You shake your head.

"Alright." He mumbles. "I'm taking you to a sketchy place, then."

You jump in your skin.

"The paparazzi won't catch us there." He assures you, setting you down as you buckle up.

"Yeah? I thought you didn't want to be friends with an actor." You tease, brow raised as he mumbles to himself.

"You are a friend before an actor." He drives off, turning his phone off to prevent tracking from your managers. "You look troubled."

"I'm supposed to have a mental breakdown in a couple of days." You snort. "I can't look happy, now can I?"

"You are stuck in your character." He taps the drums his fingers against the wheel. "Will you be alright?"

"I will." You hum. "I promise."

"Well, press tour is in half a year, so I would not be surprised if you aren't."

"I'll be fine." You chuckle. "So? Noodles?"

"Our parents used to stop there a lot. My mom showed it to Jaclyn when she turned ten. Then, when I turned ten, I went with her. Now, I'll show it to you."

"Who's the owner?"

"You'll know when you get there."

"Imagine it's my adoptive dad." You snort.

It is not. Thankfully.

You blink at the owner as he sighs with a shake of his head, asking if Clarence wanted his usual. Clarence nods, asking for the same for you only with an extra egg, bringing the two of you to the back of the store — hidden from the view of people outside the window. You suppose this is how no one had discovered that this was his family's favorite. You wonder how many years you could have gone without knowing Clarence's grandparents ran a noodle shop like this.

"His strawberry toast is really good too." Clarence hums, lowering his voice. "Ask him for it sometime."

"Yeah?" You raise a brow.

Maybe you weren't grieving. Maybe you were just withdrawing from everyone. You barely know anything about Clarence's family, now that you think about it.

"Two bowls of your usual." The man nods, sliding one in front of Clarence and another in front of you.

"Is it spicy?"

"No." Clarence breaks your chopsticks for you, and you thank him. "Try it without anything first."

It's good. The broth is warm, and the noodles are just the right consistency. It makes you happy. It tastes like home, and the more you eat, the more you're crying, tears dribbling down your eyes onto your cheeks, ditching all formality as you shovel the noodles down your throat into your mouth to feel something again. You do not know. You aren't who you used to be, and you aren't the role you play in the drama, but it still sickens you. You will need to cry on camera again. You will need to dig up every single emotion you first felt when you returned home to an empty house, and you don't know if you're ready for that kind of a heartbreak again.

But you will get there — slowly.

You're supposed to record the heaviest scene the next day, rain pouring outside your room as you blink at the sky.

You wonder if you'll be able to pull it off.

You wait for the director, hair drenched in the rain as Clarence runs over, opening an umbrella over the two of you as he stands there.

"Class flower."

"Class flower my ass." You curse, head spinning as you don't bother looking up at him.

"Come on, talk to me."

You ignore him, hanging your head as you pull your knees closer to your chest.

The rain grows stronger in the background.

"I've ruined your life." You grumble. "Why are you still talking to me? I got your offer taken away."

"That's fine." Clarence mumbles. "You outdid me on the entrance exam leg for leg. I'm fine with going to my second choice."

"I ruined your life."

"You got what you wanted."

"I didn't want that anymore." You whimper.

Clarence stares down at you, crouching as the two of stay on the brick pavement.

"What do you want?" He whispers.

"I don't know." You cry, holding your hands over your ears as you grimace. "I don't know what I want."

"Nothing?"

"No." You shake, leaving Clarence standing over you pitifully with the umbrella.

"Then, I'll find it with you." Clarence mumbles. "I'll find it with you."

You scoff. "Yeah? You'll find what shallow old me wants? A girl with nothing under my feet and no safety net? That's quite an investment you're making, president."

"No. It is not an investment." Clarence finally squats down to your eye level. "Look at me."

You barely move.

"I'm not investing in you. You're not an investment."

"Then what am I?"

Clarence doesn't tell you, opting for the quiet drumming of the rain against the pavement instead.

"Cut!" The director calls, and you're escorted under the umbrella almost instantly, wet hair wiped down by your assistants as you meet eyes with Clarence, the male mouthing words.

'You alright?'

You nod.

The next day, you record in the apartments set up for the scene. You're glad to have the room, no more rain scenes left in the script. You're surprised you didn't catch a cold again. You blink owlishly at the room you have for the role, and you sigh, opening the door as your whole body freezes at the sight of Clarence.

"Hi, class flower."

You bat your lashes at him prettily, fighting the urge to be sarcastic. "...what a pleasure to see you!"

"You can stop acting around me, you know?" He holds the door open as you try to close it on him. It gives you deja vu, almost.

"Why? Jiangyan was the one invited over, not you." You try to shut the door, finding that your strength isn't enough compared to Clarence. He keeps the door open, smile on his face.

"Did you finish your summer homework?"

You nearly choke at the question, eye twitching as you continue to pretend around him.

"I'll give you the answers if you let me in."

"I'll let you in if you let me copy all your answers." You point at him.

"... What happened to little miss academically honest?"

"Aren't you the one who told me I don't need to pretend anymore?"

"..." Clarence scoffs. "You'll cook in exchange."

"Huh? I'm not your housewife." You pause. "Why are you here again? You live two rooms up."

"..."

"You lost your keys." You deadpan. "Call Jiangyan."

"She's on vacation."

You pause. "Mom and dad?"

"Business trip."

You squint at him, letting him in. "I'm calling Jiangyan."

"Be my guest."

You find out that Clarence is in fact locked out. You grimace at him when he shows you his empty pockets, and you grumble.

"Don't you have a password lock?"

"We swapped it out a couple of weeks ago because of a malfunction."

Wow. The universe hates your character.

"Cut!" The director yells. "Good job, you two. Are you ready for the rest of the scenes?"

You think you're going to lose a part of your sanity.

Yet, the scenes roll relatively smoothly. Clarence's character cooks around the house, and you spend the majority of your days going out or doing homework, dreading the fact that you had been too shallow to make any close friends in particular. Clarence goes out occasionally in his role, and you find that your characters get no development. You wonder if they're just filming a montage. So, you play along.

The crew wraps up early for the night.

"Can I sleep here? It looks so... comfy." You mumble.

"The entire building is rented, so yes." The director hums. "However."

You make a face.

"You will be sharing the apartment with Clarence just so the other scenes are more convincing."

"As long as no one's filming me naked." You sigh.

Clarence nods when his manager checks with him for his consent.

"I call the master bedroom!" You cheer, taking your luggage from your manager.

You keep your door locked when you're not filming, walking around the house in an extra long shirt, making use of the food in the house. Clarence seldom leaves his room at night, even while filming, and you find that it's almost like you're living alone. Almost. Jaclyn finished her scenes early so she returned to her actual home for rest, leaving only you and Clarence and a few other background actors.

You wake up to a knock on the door.

"Do you want breakfast?"

You squint at the door, pulling it open, half asleep.

"Sure?"

"Porridge?"

"I want century egg and pork." You yawn.

He nods. "Anything else?"

"And a fried egg?"

"Sure. How do you want it?

"Sunny side up." You mumble.

"Alright. We start recording soon. Brush up."

You nod.

You wonder if you're too comfortable living with Clarence. He knows almost everything about you, and it's not the first time you're the lead in a drama he's playing. You wonder if there's a bet going around that the two of you will get together at the end of the filming. Maybe you will. You wouldn't be surprised if you did. You wonder if falling in love affects Clarence as much. You're just more excited for the second male lead to show up.

He does, and your eyes light up at the actor. Holy fuck it's your celebrity crush... in the flesh...

You get to know the actor, eyes bright as you ask him about his script, talking over boundaries about where you were comfortable with being touched and where you would be uncomfortable. It's significantly easier that way, and you find that he's respectful of it, only ever throwing an arm over your shoulder or around your waist when messing with Clarence's character.

"Action!"

You try and pry yourself from the second male lead's grasp, sweating bullets as Clarence's character glares daggers into your skin.

"Fengyan..." You try.

"Hm?"

"Could you let me go?"

"I thought you loved me?"

"Yeah... but..." He tightens his grasp around your waist instead, tilting his head cheekily at Clarence.

"So?"

"How is it that you're able to let your guard down around him but not me?"

"Well, he's kind of a childhood friend—"

"I'm kind of her boyfriend." He smiles. "Who are you?"

"Her class president."

You blink at the two of you, cringing at the dialogue in your head. There's NOTHING more cringe than the words that just came out of Clarence's mouth.

"And..." He yanks you into his arms, holding you close as he raises a brow at the second male lead. "her future boyfriend."

You fight the urge to scream W rizz out loud, settling for listening to the way both of your hearts race in your chests instead.

"Cut!"

You slump into Clarence's arms, dropping to your knees as you take a breather.

"Are you alright?" Clarence crouches down to you.

"They need to tone your rizz down." You sigh. "I'm fine. Give me a moment."

Clarence holds a laugh back as O'Connor holds his hand out for you.

"Still having trouble?"

"Just a little." You sigh. "I'm surprised you signed up for this role."

"Ah..." He averts his eyes as he chuckles under his breath. "Someone told me I'd get the show of a lifetime if I played the second male lead."

You think you know who it is.

Though, you don't complain, relishing in the way your celebrity crush has an arm around you at all times just to spite Clarence. You wonder what that means for you when Clarence finally gets you for himself in the script. Maybe Silan is going to ruin your life. (You're coping with the fact that you're going to need to kiss Clarence again soon.)

You blink owlishly at Clarence as he corners you in your room, your character shaking on the ground as he looms over you comically.

"So, when were you going to tell me that he wasn't your boyfriend and that the fake moaning you were doing at night was just to keep me up?"

You muster the best smile you can give him, holding two thumbs up and hiding under him as he pulls you up by the collar of your shirt.

"You have anything to say to me?"

"Woah, student president, since when were you so rough?" You wiggle your brows back at him, expecting to render him speechless.

"Yeah? You want rough? I'll show you rough."

You aren't expecting Clarence to actually kiss you this hard. His hand stays on your shirt as he forces his lips to yours, forcing your mouth open with his free hand as he uses tongue. You wonder where he learned to kiss like that if he hasn't done a romance drama in the same amount of time that you haven't been a main lead. He kisses you like he has more to tell you than what he can through the role of his character, tongue pressed to yours as his hold eventually looses and he holds the back of your head. You get dizzy at one point, whimpering into the kiss, panting for breath when he finally lets go of you.

The two of you did NOT hear the director yell cut.

You thank the heavens when you're told you don't need to retake the scene, though.

You don't know how many more Clarence kisses with tongue you have left in you.

Thankfully, the two of you finish the cohabitation arc of the drama relatively quickly, and all the two of you have left is the final leg of campus. You don't know why they decided to split the campus arc into two, but it goes much quicker. You grab onto Jaclyn's character as the two of you grow closer.

She helps you piece yourself together. In a way, both Clarence and Jaclyn's character help you piece yourself together, but you find that ultimately your character is happier with Jaclyn. Maybe you should make this a yuri bait.

You tell your manager that your favorite episode was the classic shopping one. You had the time of your life doing something that you hadn't gotten to do in a long time. Maybe it was the semblance of normalcy you craved after you became an actor. You wonder when you'll be able to do that again.

You do a little spin for Jaclyn and Clarence's characters in front of the camera.

"You're so cute!"

"And!!" You show Jaclyn enthusiastically, "It has pockets."

"Perfect for hiding knives."

You hide behind Jaclyn at Clarence's comment.

"I think your brother's a psychopath."

Jaclyn's character can't argue with that.

You like to think you've grown closer to Clarence.

Even when the two of you are getting your makeup finished for the final scene, you wonder if he has anything else to say. Maybe he's going to improv. Maybe he's going to randomly confess to you (he won't), maybe he'll— you're just delusional. Clarence would wait for a proper time before asking you out. He wouldn't make such uncalculated moves like that.

"Ready?" The director blinks at the two of you, and you nod.

"Action!"

"Will you go out with me?" Clarence holds a different bouquet of flowers this time, smile much gentler and eyes much fonder. "Hm? Class flower?"

"I don't know, president." You tap your chin and pretend to think. "Do you really like me? Little old me? Little miss shallow me?"

Clarence rolls his eyes, yanking you to his chest with a huff.

"I am certain."

You rest your ear on Clarence's chest as you listen to his heartbeat rattle his ribcage, humming quietly as the two of you wait for the director to yell cut. It does not happen. Instead, the two of you are stuck in that position for a hot minute, your lips curling further and further upwards as you hold back a laugh to the best of your ability. You've never been so glad the camera isn't showing your face at the moment.

"Are you sure you like me?"

"Yes." Clarence mumbles. "Must I show it to you?"

"Don't you dare." You grumble.

"Cut!" The director yells. You wonder if that was for a blooper on purpose, but you don't pry. You're finished. So, when everyone is celebrating at hotpot at the completion of shooting, you stay in the apartment instead, yawning as you doomscroll on your phone. You need to know what the people are posting about the script online. It's not good for your mental health, but you get a good laugh out of everyone who claims they're going to pull their SD cards out of hiding and bring back the couple edits of you and Clarence.

You wonder if the two of you will just go back to the roles you once held in the industry. It would be funny for you to go back to being a villainess that tortures the female lead in every universe. Speaking of every universe, you wonder if you're friends with Clarence in every universe out there. Maybe you are. Maybe you aren't.

"You asleep?"

You look up from your bed, too lazy to unlock the door.

"Not yet. What's up?"

"Let me in. Let's drink."

You snort.

"You are NOT the type of person to do this." You hum.

"You're the one who set the liquor outside my door. Come on." Clarence calls.

You pull yourself out of bed reluctantly, dragging your feet to unlock the door and sit with him at the dining table, popping open a bottle as he mixes a drink.

"We're done." He hums. "How'd you get the alcohol?"

"Jaclyn." You hum. "Did you drink after your shoots?"

"I tried not to."

You nod slowly, taking a sip of the drink.

"You?"

"Often." You hum. "They don't hold back once you turn legal."

"Why didn't you ask Jaclyn to buy it for you, then?"

"I didn't leave the room after we finished." You hum. "I was packing up."

"Are you booked again?"

"Nah. I need to drop by my parents' burials." You hum. "Then, I'll meet the rest of my team at the airport."

"Are you going home?"

"I'm going to see how my guardian is doing." You hum. "Then, I'll see what else lines up."

"You're always so busy." Clarence hums, cheeks red from the alcohol.

"Will you play the role of a villain for me sometime?"

Clarence sighs, taking his glasses off with a hum. "I'll play anything you want me to."

"Even my boyfriend?"

You choose to ignore the answer Clarence gives you.

The two of you say goodbye the next day with a quick hug, quickly returning to the life the two of you had before, waiting for the press tour instead. You wonder just what kind of PR your manager would have the two of you do. You remember when Clarence had to stick by you in one of your earlier tours, and you wonder if he'll be instructed to do the same this time.

You have fun promoting the drama.

Clarence recites his lines to you as you make a face and shudder, earning a laugh from the people you're with, and you wait to see if you would win an award. Maybe you will. It's not something you're really expecting, but it would have been nice to win an award with him, you think. None of his acting has broken onto the big screens, and none of your roles have earned you an award. You think it's funny. The two of you are leg to leg. Well, that would be wrong. You don't know how many awards Clarence has won. You're sure his fans would throw a fit if they ever found out that their fav had a childhood friend.

At least he's not in love with you.

"Clarence, you've acted with quite a handful of female actors—"

You know what kind of a question the host is going to ask.

"Who was your favorite?"

"I'm biased, so obviously..." His eyes trail to yours as Jaclyn gasps in offense from the side.

"Not your beloved sister?"

"No."

You snort, hiding your face behind your hands as Jaclyn clicks her tongue and shakes her head at Clarence's reaction.

"Ah, we heard that the second male lead this time around was your celebrity crush!" The host turns to you. "So?"

"Oh..." You pretend to get shy, fanning your face. "He's such a sweetheart..."

You catch Jaclyn laugh behind the camera at Clarence's reaction.

"Yeah. Honestly, I would have picked O'Connor just for his face card." You shrug. "Have you seen him?"

"Understandable. Did you grow up watching him on TV?"

You nod. "He was one of the other reasons I started acting in the first place."

"Oh? What was your main reason?"

You tap your cheek with a wink. "That's a secret!"

It's not a secret. You're sure if someone dug hard enough they'd find the interview where you had mentioned you wanted to outdo Clarence in everything he was good at, so you followed him into the acting industry. You're sure your company had wiped that from the internet, but you still have a copy of it at home. Clarence's mom insisted that the two of you keep that video for memories. You're kind of glad she did.

"Where are you headed after this?"

You turn your head to stare at Clarence.

"Hm?"

"I was going back to the hotel."

"Do you want food?"

"And get caught?"

"Even better."

You blink at Clarence, stupefied. "What."

He smiles. "I hope I beat the headlines."

You blink at Clarence as he holds his hand out for you, pulling you as your manager yells for you in the background. White noise blurring out as you climb into the car after Clarence, cameras clicking at the sight of Clarence holding your hand. You wonder what kind of an excuse your management will come up with if Clarence doesn't actually do what he wants to.

"You're not acting like yourself."

"No one does while in love." Clarence hums. "So?"

"Where's my confession?" You raise a brow.

"This isn't as dramatic, but..." Clarence hums. "Go out with me?"

"That's so unromantic!" You hit him, turning your head to the side as he stops at the light.

"Soleil de ma vie." Clarence turns to stare at you, holding your gaze as you're overwhelmed by his eyes. "Fleur de ma coeur." "Sun of my life." "Flower of my heart."

You glance at the red light.

"I love you." He hums. "Please go out with me."

You glance at the light as you pretend to think.

Green.

"I will. Please take care of me, star of my world."

Clarence doesn't go, hand finding yours as he lets go of the brake instead, silver of a smile on his face.

"Always."

#clarence x reader #clarence clayden x reader #lovebrush chronicles #reader insert #lovebrush chronicles x reader #si lan #si lan x reader #clarence clayden #☾.fics

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ykiwrite · 2 years ago

Text

it doesn't matter

desc: jenna, manager, relationships, the holy trio

warnings: food? fluff?

9:32

"4 missed calls from jen"

"11 unread messages from jen"

flashed on your phone screen.

Ruffling your wet hair with a towel while checking the time showing you stayed for too long in that shower.

Standing still in the middle of the living room pondering over what could be so important remembering she's probably finished with the promotion of her latest show.

Dwelling on whether you should call or text back, settling down for typing a quick response. She'll be home soon either way.

Thumps so loud from the other room it could be heard over your hairdryer made you turn it off. Already blaming Jenna for it because who else would it be?

Just as you were to make yourself known, her head popped up from the edge of the doorway making you almost scream.

"Jennaaa, we talked about this. Can you not do that thing everytime you come home?" you cried out.

"Mmm, no?" smiling at you which made you roll eyes way too obviously on purpose.

"Alright, alright. I deeply apologize miss," giving you a fake apology while bowing down as if you were some majesty found in small bathroom of your miniature apartment. Very royal indeed.

Standing up again, she made her way to you still not out of her "work" clothes she left with this morning.

Her head instantly finds its way between your neck and shoulder out of a longtime habit. "I'm done in the bathroom, leaving it up to you. Also since i'm the best cook ever i made you pasta differently this time. I amaze myself sometimes."

"Thank you but..." you couldn't make out the rest of the sentence, only her silenced rambling since she was speaking to your neck rather than you.

"What? I can't hear you anything."

Moving her head out of your grasp to look at you while avoiding direct eye contact threw you off for a bit. "Can we maybe talk in the living room? I don't think bathroom is the best option," she said looking around it.

"Yeah, sure. You okay though?"

"Yeah, it's just about that promotion thing i told you about." answer making you a bit relieved as you both headed to the sacred meeting room (aka living room).

Taking your usual seat on the couch when suddenly TV became really interesting and ideal distraction from the fear building up by your girlfriend leaving with a cliffhanger. She is an actor, at the end of the day.

"Heavy snowfall expected tomorrow morning. For the next few days we've got wintery hazards all around the country. Be prepared-"

"Just like you ordered, snow it is," a well-known voice pulled you out of the staring competition with the sweet weather lady. Jenna, still putting on her hoodie reserved just for inside the home finally sat down.

"A bit of change in the midweek with less cold temperatures..."

"So?" as silence was too loud not even a lady could help your current state of mind.

"So straight to the point, as you know with me being an actor and all i was called over for a talk with manager and turns out we we're kind of spotted." Finally looking at you instead of the wooden floor in front.

"Spotted?"

"Remember your birthday last week?" giving her a nod to confirm she continued, "and that 2am trip to McDonald's' i had to drive you to because i just couldn't say no?"

"Even if we rearranged the whole cake?" How could you forget?

"'Course you remember. Someone got us on picture that night." Jenna dropped the words of the day you've been waiting for.

"It was empty though?" as far as your memory serves.

Jenna, taking her phone off the table, swiping through 'strictly business' chat to prove it left you with a bitter feeling. This is it. You heard way too many celebrity stories and gossip. Her managers most likely asked for immediate break up, cutting the ties off, all for sake of her career.

"Here," giving you a phone that showed it clearly. You dying at the table looking more in love with the food than Jenna, nonetheless obvious couple photo.

Sliding it down your shaking hand onto the table scared Jenna more than she'd like to admit. "Are you gonna do it? They told you, right?"

"What? I don't get it?" Jenna questioned and roles switched. She was now worried and you looked terrified.

"Come on, we all know how it goes. Manager probably told you to break it off with me," barely came out of you, one more second and you might cry.

"God, no? It's not-that's wasn't even mentioned. What are you on about?" said so quickly in attempt to comfort you asap while sliding closer to your defeated figure.

"It wasn't?"

"No, just listen. He asked me, to ask you if you'd be okay with revealing it." Taking your head into her chest did little of a job done.

"Like public?"

"Like public public."

"You want us to be public? You and me?" pointing with your finger between the free space you found yourselves in trying to convince yourself it's real. "Yes, why is it a surprise? Obviously i do but do you?"

Might as well take this as a proposal. "Yes-of course, i thought it's over with us." Swiping your nonexistent sweat of off your head.

"You really think i'd get rid of you this easily?" pulling you to lay on top her as you allowed for your whole existence to be wrapped around the person underneath.

Putting your head up giving her an insecure look, "I don't know, i guess, it's just that-"

"Don't," was a whisper of hers that pulled you in a tender, careful yet passionate kiss like she's offering you all of her reasons why it will always be you.

notes: a quick one cuz mannn the grip ms. jenna got on me lately is crazy as you can see by my entire profile *proceeds to watch 924th edit of her*

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagines

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junk-whunk-punk · 4 months ago

Note

broski are you in like... Russia? U doing ok over there?

Uh ummmmm😳😳... ????????? yes i'm in Russia????? i always was here??????

I guess, uh, PERSONALLY I'm quite well yeah thank you for your concern anon😌 I'm ok rn and I live the same way as any of my average fellow citizen soooo I also sometimes suffer from a lack of money, comfort attention, love, time and mental energy, but at least I'm still alive🥹 That's all like this thanks to my impenetrable thinking and pacifism heehee, otherwise I'd have gone crazy with this continuous political propaganda here.

I just love my motherland, its culture, its people and life here, but not those poliDICKians who are now measuring dicks with other such idiots.

(anon if you wanted to have a filthy political answer so uhhh IT'LL BE A QUITE LONG POST ABOUT MY INNER CRIES THAT WERE WAITING FOR FREEDOM I'M SORRYYYYY I just want to speak out and never return to this topic again if there's no need to)

I feel sorry and upset each time I see how radicalist propaganda brainwashes ordinary people, whether ukrainians, americans, russians or any other peoples who are now under intense pressure. Neither side is right, everyone who starts conflicts is always to blame for any conflict, but not ordinary people who just want to fucking survive. Alas, in my motherland there is just terrible oppression of pacifists now, because they are considered anti-patriots and extremists (that's NOT even a joke really, now pacifists are being driven under the same roof with terrorists and sectarians👍👍)

I'm just so scared of what that all will lead. Y'know, adequate and sane people would never want to harm anyone but OH ALAS, a drop of power makes weak people crazy. Unfortunately, such rotten fruits are now at the head of many influential countries in the modern world🤷‍♀️

But! I have a ray of hope. Many russians are aware of this problem. They know that the russian authorities seem to be set against absolutely everyone, both their fellow citizens and foreigners. That's why I chose the perfect tactic – I'm also against. Against all politicians. I am against all authorities😌 I just hate them all😌 but at the same time I love people regardless of their nationality. As for me, this is the most humane and the most correct choice, at least if we take into account the fact that we russians cannot influence the situation in world, no matter how much we want it. (c'mon we can't even choose anything in our own country)

So. The conclusion. I'm scared, I'm angry and I'm an anarchist yeah. Stay sane and don't be a victim of radical propaganda. Love people. Be supportive to those who in need. We ALL are fellow humans and we must stay them.

#i'm just happy i have unbrainwashable foreign pals they are my treasure #mother russia #and her parasites #tw politics #cw politics

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atopvisenyashill · 9 months ago

Note

There's this weird thing going on Reddit right now where people are claiming that legally, Rhaenyra children are not bastards. And I was wondering if you agree or disagree. I think that people are just making up their own canon lore at this point.

Well. Okay I think I’m about to give an answer that is a little spicy but when I get around to my ultimate point I think everyone is going to go "yeah it makes sense that's how you feel, that tracks." Let me start with a personal story to be extra annoying-

My mom, after separating from my dad, swore of marriage. Marriage derailed her life, it had derailed my grandma's life, so she decided that even if she truly fell in love again, she would stay unmarried because clearly marriage jinxes love. She met my stepdad and as he had been divorced three times (and bitterly each time too) he agreed. He proposed to her but it was really just a commitment thing - I promise I am all in on this relationship, and by wearing this ring, you promise too. He moved in. They had one of my siblings, K, and still remained unmarried despite pushback from a few relatives and friends.

And then my stepdad needed knee surgery. And my mom couldn't put a domestic partner on her insurance. So a week before my second sibling, B, was born, after my aunt finished teaching summer school for the day, on what was a random Thursday afternoon, we all put on some nice clothes, piled into the van, and went down to city hall where they got hitched and I cried while everyone made fun of me because their toddler was literally running around the waiting room, it was not a big deal! My parents were both wearing jeans!!! We went to Baker's Square after, not even a nice restaurant! Do you know how this marriage has affected K and B? Not even a little! Do you know why?

BECAUSE NONE OF THIS MATTERS.

There is no moral or biological difference between a child born in wedlock and a child born outside of it. If you put K and B's blood under a microscope and I didn't tell you the ages would you be able to tell the difference between them? Would you be able to figure out which one of my siblings is a bastard and which one is trueborn? No, you would not because the difference doesn't exist biologically, ontologicaly, ecologically, anthropologically, whatever ology you want to bring up, and I think what this fandom finds most frustrating is that there is also no legal difference because LAWS ARE MADE UP. THEY DONT FUCKING MATTER. THEY ARE MAN MADE. I need this fandom to kill the prosecutor that lives in their head and stop arguing over whether Rhaenyra’s oldest boys are ~really~ bastards or not. The “truth” of this is just as it is for my family - it’s completely emotional, situational, and dependent on the feelings of the people involved in it!

Alicent & Otto & Criston, in both the books and the show, have an ulterior motive to insist that legally Rhaenyra’s boys are bastards. They can talk about propriety and legality all they want, but not only were those boys raised and loved by Laenor & Corlys, the concepts of marriage & wedlock & legitimacy are merely tools used to keep people in their place, something those three are very aware of because Otto manipulates the law in order to cut Daemon out of the line of succession which is exactly what kicks off this conflict in the first place! Corlys & Laenor & Rhaenyra have completely different but still existent ulterior motives to insist that legally the boys are true born. They can talk about “well technically” and cite whatever law or precedent they want but again, this same insistence on their legitimacy is a cover for the fact that if they ARE admitted to be not Laenor’s, they all lose access to power.

Not only that, but both Rhaenyra and Alicent become insistent on these competing legalities because they are worried the other will kill their children. Alicent all but confirms that she would have killed them if Rhaenyra had accepted terms with her nasty comment about their deaths when Rhaenyra takes the capital, but Rhaenyra throws her own insistence that she won’t hurt her siblings out the window with b&c.

So yeah, people are making up their own canon lore here because both Otto and Rhaenyra are ALSO making up their own canon lore here. That’s the entire point. Both of these sides have their own agendas, their own very rational fear of the other, and instead of realizing they have to compromise just a bit to get out of the shitshow they’ve found themselves in, they escalate at every turn until they’re all dead and so are their dragons.

The point is - I think everyone is missing here that George is making fun of you nerds who spent all your time insisting they’re bastards or not and debating the legality ad nauseum. He has Stannis ranting about the sanctity of the line of succession and House Baratheon and everyone misses that Stannis is a fucking loser for this because the line started one generation ago and if he didn't want Robert overthrown by Cersei maybe he should have made sure Robert wasn't raping and beating her all the time!! It is the same exact thing here!! If they didn't want Rhaenyra to have bastards, they shouldn't have jerked her around as heir for years then trapped her in a marriage she resented to fix their stupid ass mistakes and if they didn't want the whole thing to escalate into a bloody war, they shouldn't have murdered Luke and Jaehaerys!! That simple!!!!

LEGITIMACY AND MARRIAGE ARE NOT REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#THIS IS MY OFFICAL STANCE. YOU MAY QUOTE ME ON IT AND I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR LETTERS.#yes that is a craig ferguson reference!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#also i am using royal we general we etc anon i am not mad at you i am simply being dramatic for purposes of humor. i hope that comes across #asks #anons #legimtacy in asoiaf #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #joffrey velaryon #the dance of the dragons #i just cannot emphasize enough how much i do not care about this argument.#those boys are rhaenyra's sons. they are laenor's. they are harwin's. they are daemon's. because those are the people #that raised them and loved them and contributed to molding them.#the legality is a smokescreen. do not let it fool you!!! the greens do NOT care about that at the ending of the day #anymore than corlys does!!!!!!!!!!!

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fiddlepot · 1 year ago

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miner dee en eye (kinda nsfw) go do your homework losers /neu same thing for ageless blogs. Cease.

Me when brain suddenly "kokudoma"

Like. It's honestly such a crackship but they're fuck buddies only bc kokushibo is an edgy ass bitch

But doma is like actually fond of him and won't leave him tf alone so koku goes "fuck it" and edges him with like small doses of attention only to fuck him senseless later, and y'all know they can both go for literally forever bc stamina is not an issue for demons at all

Anywhoooo 🤣

Drabble under the cut. Once again, nsfw = get the FUCK out if you're a minor plz thx ❤🌹🙏

Tags; nsfw (duh doy) kokudou, doma being a bottom bitch, degredation, little to no aftercare tbh koku don't got time for that, impact play, blood play, biting, belt bondage, humiliation, one sided affection, koku being sassy, demons being freaks lmao!

oh yeah, and before I forget to mention uh. my bad if there are like, issues in the writing. I don't rlly write smut like that so it may be like, finnicky or whatever.

His Affection

As the second-in-command, the moments bestowed upon Upper Moon 1 were of the utmost significance—a privilege beyond measure to partake in even the slightest morsel of his precious time, perhaps more so than the demon king himself.

And it seemed Muzan thought so too.

Doma's relationship with the highest Kizuki was, put simply, a distraction for them both. His lordship already didn't like him—and it was evident that the progenitor fancied the prospect of hearing his cries of pleasure bounce about the sprawling walls of the Infinity Castle even less. Or having the ability to see him unfurl anywhere, for that matter.

Yet he tolerated it all, much as he tolerated the myriad eccentricities that defined Doma's existence—solely because Kokushibo didn't bear any particular fondness of the man. If there was any semblance of favor beneath his veneer, it was a masterful deception, concealed with an artistry that left no room for doubt.

“How exceedingly unbecoming of you... Upper Moon Two,” Kokushibo taunted, his tone laced with derision as he continued to torment Doma. A single thrust of his knee into Doma's perineum reduced him to a huffing, mewling, wanton mess that could do nothing but writhe beneath the relentless assault. “Pathetic.”

“For you, I...” Doma began to croon in response, but his sentiment was summarily disregarded by his superior.

Indeed, the kanji branded into Doma's very being served as a constant reminder of the wrongness that tainted their actions. Yet he grappled with the notion of whether it truly constituted wrongdoing, when he was held captive by someone of superior strength. It could have been worse, but the act itself, while undeniably indulgent, left him yearning for more.

Three pairs of amber eyes encased in bloodshot sclerae bore down upon Doma's kaleidoscope orbs, middle eyelids lifting with a sadistic mirth as the latter struggled to gather his bearings. Yes, if nothing else, he was a rather fine instrument—a myriad outlet of wanton and eager reactions to every strum, stroke, and tug of Kokushibo's own.

Another forceful thrust, and Doma's fists, ensnared by the constricting uwa-obi, trembled with impatience. His hitherto unrewarding quest for gratification danced in macabre synchrony with Kokushibo's unyielding onslaught of ruthless stringency. Stringency he trusted Doma could handle, just as he had many times before.

Indeed, he bore an unparalleled capacity to endure the most precarious of circumstances. Stripped bare and vulnerable, entangled within Kokushibo's grip that paradoxically bore both pain and pleasure to his bruised wrists, all within the sanctum of his private chambers where the prying eyes of servants loomed over him as a threat to his image—his affection for the elder demon had endowed him with a remarkable adaptability. That which Kokushibo quite appreciated, even while he didn't do so typically.

“Please,” Doma keened, not entirely sure of what he was begging for. His legs flailed above Kokushibo's hips, the capriciousness of his knee now replaced with a rhythmic cadence. In response, Doma's own hips danced to accommodate, all under Kokushibo's unwavering gaze.

“Please?” The elder demon withdrew his knee just as he noticed Doma's thrusts growing more frantic, bringing about a plaintive whine of protest. One that he ignored. “Please what?”

Cruel, Doma surmised, his furrowed brows betraying a sensation akin to frustration—though it was more related to a profound sense of bereftness. The feeling soon gave way to astonishment though, as his superior's calloused, unfettered hand ventured toward his most intimate regions. In a tantalizing journey that brushed past a multitude of erogenous zones, Kokushibo commenced a painstakingly leisurely rhythm of strokes upon the taut, erect shaft. “Lord Kokushibo,” Doma moaned, the words escaping his lips in yet another impassioned plea. He couldn't bite back his grin at the pleasure as the ministrations increasingly focused on his tip.

“Hmm?” He pressed.

“I...”

“Out with it, now.” With a low, knowing hum, Kokushibo continued his torturous ministrations, the shadow of a wry smile playing upon his lips. He reveled in the unfolding tableau, and were it not for the undeniable evidence concealed beneath his hakama, Doma might have failed to discern Kokushibo's own mounting desire. His digit, now shifting its focus to Doma's taint and then his quivering slit, brought about a gasp and a shuddering buck of his hips from his suboordinate.

“Oh, you intoxicate me,” was what Doma wanted nothing more than to convey at that moment—but he was thinking with the brain in between his legs now, and just choking out the phrase “I want you to fuck me” was a hassle on its own. So in lieu of those words, his body needily leaned into Kokushibo's tantalizing caress, eliciting a flinch, a fervent yelp, and the shadow of a chuckle as he was duly rewarded with the electrifying sting of a strike to his thigh.

“Out with it,” repeated Upper Moon One, eyes lazily trailing downwards towards Doma's slit. The hand on his thigh never quite ceased its position there, but it did gingerly slide upwards, halting just shy of his hip. “I much prefer hearing you mewl and beg...” Kokushibo leaned back, moving to take the awaiting bottle of oil beside them in his hand with a mumur, “...than I do seeing you throw your hips about without any abandon or shame... like a cheap harlot.”

Or perhaps he preferred a combination of both.

His movements were deft and fluid, and soon enough, Doma found his thighs tensing in ecstasy as his superior slid a slicked finger inside with ease. With a single thrust, followed by the benevolent curl of Kokushibo's digit, he effortlessly conducted a symphony of squirming, whimpering, and shuddering glee from the younger demon.

“Oh, god, yes— more of that,” he finally cried out, his moans now reaching crescendos of reckless abandon, “Please, I need— I nee-he-oh...!”

Something between a laugh and a keen leaves his mouth mid plea, and Kokushibo lavishes a hot tongue on his nipple. Simultaneously, the hand that had lingered on his upper thigh ventured upward to cup his pectoral—soft and sumptuous enough to rival a woman's bosom, and apparently just as sensitive as one, too.

“Go on,” Kokushibo rasped, following his words with a bite that sent his suboordinate gasping for air that he hardly needed to begin with. Doma seemed so caught up in the feeling of wet hotness lapping his erected nipple that he hardly had any reaction to the second and soon, third finger of Kokushibo's adding to the mess of oily slick that was his entrance. A wicked spectacle it was, to witness the unraveling of Doma's customary demeanor. Kokushibo, savoring every moment of it, traced a peppery path of kisses along both pectorals, infusing his actions with a deceptively sweet tenderness before descending upon the other nipple. “What do you need?”

“I need... I need your cock— inside me,” His own cock jumped as the pinching sensation returned at a sharper intensity, one that drew forth his blood. Blood that erupted upon his superior's taste buds—blood that was lapped up hungrily until the wound inevitably fizzled away.

To this, Upper Moon One withdrew his fingers, either deeming Doma loose enough or in an effort to keep him on the edge of release.

“Just inside you?” probed the demon, withdrawing his mouth and cupping hand to do away with his garments.

“Mnhh” with a hitch of his breath, Doma lowered his eyelids, and then his gaze. Seemed the man had a sword in between his legs too, he joked to himself. “I wan—... I need you to fuck me, Lord Kokushibo.” The latter cupped the back of Doma's left knee in response. “Please,” he added. There was a period of silence between the two after that.

“Turn around,” Kokushibo finally commanded, to which Doma obliged. A small part of him contemplated praising the man silently, for although he relished the act of instructing him to get on his knees, this time, the younger demon had done so without being expressly told—a noteworthy first.

Doma's body quivered in anticipation as the sizable tip of Kokushibo's arousal prodded at his entrance. It greedily swallowed up the intrusion alongside the thick shaft that followed, and he could've sworn he saw stars once their hips converged with a wet slap. Another exploratory snap of his superior's hips, and he wails with delight—All things considered, it quite pleased Kokushibo to know this wanton little orfice remembered him so very well.

Kokushibo maintained an unwavering grasp on Doma's hips, savoring every subtle contour of the younger demon's form and the symphony of beguiling sounds that flowed from his parted lips. There was no respite, no pause in the relentless storm that were his ceaseless thrusts, each one propelling his length to greater depths within Doma's quivering core. The younger demon, overwhelmed by the overstimulation, sought solace by burying his head into the silken sheets, his eyes cast upwards, and his mouth a veritable cascade of desire, saliva pooling in his abandon. His muffled ries and moans, somehow still unbridled and unrestrained, reverberated through the room and likely the halls beyond it. And it was always at that point that Kokushibo knew his conscience had been wholly eclipsed by the arduous affair.

In all sincerity, Doma was at his most endearing in this state. A harsh sentiment, perhaps, but in such moments, there existed no space for artifice or his foolish banter. In such moments, he was malleable, receptive to reminders of his place.. Just as he should be.

As Kokushibo's hand traversed the expanse of Doma's nape and traced an affectionate path along his back—perhaps the sole form of praise Doma would garner from his superior this night—he basked in the tender sensation, finding solace in the fleeting respite his dampened pillow couldn't hope to provide on its own.

However, that interlude of affection was destined to be brief. His hand, which had previously caressed Doma's back, now ventured to entwine itself in the younger demon's tousled locks. With a firm tug, akin to that of a leash, Kokushibo elicited a high-pitched squeal from Doma—a sound that he found utterly delicious, a brief indulgence before he shifted his focus.

At the crook of Doma's neck, Kokushibo bared his fangs, and with a savage bite, he drew forth yet another long bead of blood to be lapped up with grace. Kokushibo's lips closed around the wound, savoring the metallic tang of Doma's essence. From there, the rolling of his hips only grew more intense, and Doma's moans only grew louder.

“Such a piteous mess,” drawled Upper Moon One, muffled by his own painful ministrations. Doma threw his head back with whatever room he was allowed. “Merely a handful of thrusts, and you're wailing and contorting... like a desperate animal in the throes of heat.”

A well-placed blow to his rear incurred a yowl of pleasure from Doma—a response not born of wrongdoing but a delicious opportunity to chastise him in such a manner.

“M'sorry,” He babbled mindlessly, “M' a mess for you, Lord Kokushibo, I—mhn~!—feels so good, I'm...”

Kokushibo tore his fangs from the yielding flesh, savoring the yelp that ensued, along with the metallic tang of blood that tantalized his lips. He took a moment to relish the essence, licking it away with a deliberateness that bespoke his hedonistic enjoyment at that moment. As anticipated, the wound healed swiftly. He leaned back, drinking in the sight of Upper Moon Two, stripped of his dignity and forced to his knees within the confines of his own domain—a place where his image held paramount importance.

“You don't appear to be contrite in the slightest.” Kokushibo crooned, his voice oscillating between panting breaths and lascivious groans as he skillfully coaxed another cascade of mewls from Doma. His free hand deftly moved to stimulate the other's arousal, further heightening his pleasure. “I wonder,” he continued, his tone dripping with malice, “what might occur... if one of your devoted followers were to stumble upon this debauched scene... while you're ensnared in such a stupefying state?”

With another resolute thrust, Kokushibo's hand deftly manipulated Doma's frenulum, unleashing a searing tidal wave of pleasure that sent the younger demon reeling, stars dancing before his vision. In that moment of rapturous intensity, his brain grappled to process the words uttered, and when comprehension finally dawned, the thought alone made his cock twitch with fervor.

“How crassly forthright.” Kokushibo remarked, his grip on Doma's arousal tightening briefly, only to unleash a punitive slap upon the hypersensitive tip. The sharp sting gave rise to an immediate yelp of pleasure-pain, Doma's breath quickening with a sharp hitch as he teetered on the precipice of rapture and torment.

It was a sound judgement to have him face the door then, Kokushibo supposed, basking in the sounds he choked out of his suboordinate. Doma's vocalizations ran the gamut, ranging from rasped vulgarities to squeaky cries, and if there was one facet that Kokushibo genuinely admired about him, it was his voice—a mellifluous tenor that he might not have deserved but undeniably possessed. In the throes of passion, Doma made the most delectable sounds, each note growing more exquisite, more impassioned, as his inevitable climax approached.

And Kokushibo, true to his intent, was resolute in granting him that release, if not the preservation of his dignity. After all, he was exceptionally well-behaved tonight—and he had put the man through more than enough.

In that chamber, a tumultuous tempest of blurred ecstasy unfurled its rapturous banner. Devoid of ardor's solemn vows, bereft of any whispered oaths, release finally came. As Doma, his frame a symphony of ecstasy, ascended towards the zenith of his sensual reverie, Kokushibo, without much delay, joined him. With one last fervent thrust, Upper moon one stilled his hips, and the demons' release converged in sinewy strings of white amidst their frenzied sounds of pleasure, until there was nothing left to give.

Doma was the first to succumb to a semblance of exhaustion, his body yielding as Kokushibo's length slid out of him, leaving him in a languid sprawl as he finally had a moment to revel in the intoxicating fluids that now clung to him—an unapologetic mess of his superior's warm spent and his own perspiration that existed despite his naturally low body temperature. Kokushibo, his gaze fixated on the visage of Doma in his post-coital haze, contemplated the notion of a potential round two, had he the luxury of time.

With a sigh, he carefully removed the obi that had previously bound Doma's wrists, freeing the younger demon from his constraints. He proceeded to dress himself upon sliding off the bed as if nothing happened—although his apparent discomfort at his own perspired state was palpable.

“It would be prudent for you to summon your servants to attend to this... aftermath,” he remarked in a hushed tone, his words laced with an air of formality. “If there is anything you require me to procure for you... now would be the time to inquire. If not.. I'm taking my leave.”

“A kiss would be-”

“No.”

Doma grumbled, shuffling up to the edge where Kokushibo stood. Like clockwork, his perpetual smile returned, and of course, so did his cheekiness. Kokushibo, who had been facing the door, turned to look at him, utterly unamused.

“Would it kill you to give me just one...?” he pouted. “You said I could ask for anything I wanted just now... You're always so mean to me.”

“No,” Kokushibo repeated, adjusting the sash of his kimono. “...I said I'd give you whatever you needed. You don't need what you're asking for.”

Kokushibo reached for his sheathed katana and slid it into his obi with practiced precision. He was preparing for his departure, to which Doma deflated onto his bed in silent resignation.

“...Nor does it seem like you need anything from me at all,” he remarked stoically, turning his gaze forward. “So I will take my leave now.”

And with that, he was gone. Doma rolled over unto his back with a dramatic sigh. Maybe it was a need. His affection.

＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊

Wowzer, that was a long one. Sorry for the long wait. I've been meaning to get this out for a whole week, but my perfectionist ass kept editing before the damn piece was actually finished. Anyway.... yeah, I'll probably post more of these two lol. Their banter was fun to write for sure.

#hypothetical #fanfic #kny #kny fanfic #doma kny #kokushibo #doma x kokushibo #eev rambles #kny michikatsu #michikatsu tsugikuni #doma smut #kokushibo smut #his affection #kokudouma

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lolitakirstein · 9 months ago

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Hey Neighbor Pt 7

Part 7

{Previous Part}

[Archive of Our Own Link]

Oh, yeah. I’m here to apologize for my drunken behavior last night.

Finally, you remembered why you had come to Toji’s house. You had forgotten amidst the never-ending back and forth between you two.

Feeling a little more focused, you sit up straighter as Toji stomps down the stairs.

“Better,” he asks, gesturing to the shirt he now wears. Though better than being shirtless, the black shirt clings to every muscle in his chest and stomach. He slumps back into his chair beside you.

“Yeah,” you squeak out.

“So what important adult things do you want to discuss,” he crosses his arms across his broad chest.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night,” you reply, tiredly. Your eyes focus on your hands in your lap. Once again you feel embarrassed.

“Oh?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so. Sorry. I usually don’t drink. Actually, I never drink,” you confess.

“So what made you drink so much last night.”

You shrug. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know. Long hours of work. Still trying to settle in and then after you said those..things.” Shit! You didn’t want to bring that up. Not yet anyway. You hadn’t planned on how to tackle it.

“What things,” he leans his forearms on the table. You dare to meet his eyes, scared of seeing a smug look. Instead, his eyes have softened. The teasing, cocky attitude is gone.

“Nothing,” you shake your head and push back from the table. “Just— sorry about last night”

You turn to leave, suddenly exhausted and embarrassed by confessing so easily to a stranger. You feel Toji grab your hand and tug you back.

“Hey,” he says soothingly. “Talk to me.”

Until this moment you haven’t realized how alone you have felt since moving in. How sometimes you cried yourself to sleep because of it. You busied yourself with work and hobbies, but at the end of the day, you felt utterly alone. In your grief and your love life.

Tears threaten to fall but you whip them away quickly. “My grandmother was my last living relative. My parents are dead and I have no siblings. She was it.”

“I know,” he answers, softly.

“How? How do you know? And don't give me that ‘it's not my place to tell you’ shit like there’s some big secret I don’t know about.” the words tumble out faster than you can register what you're saying.

Toji reclines in his seat, staring up at the ceiling with a huff.

“Why was Megumi ‘hiding’ there while you were gone?” you continue. “And how did you know she called me—”.

Again, tears choke you from repeating those words. You can’t bring yourself to speak them without falling apart at this point.

“Il mio Angellino” Toji finishes for you. He tilts his head back to look at you. You nod and look to the floor, still afraid to vocalize an answer.

“She told me of course. You,” he drawls, standing up and closing the gap between your bodies, “were the most important thing on this planet to her. She wanted nothing but to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” you ask weakly, craning your neck to look up at him. Toji squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s having an internal struggle. As if he’s conflicted about whether to tell you what you're so desperate to know or not. Boldly, you squeeze his strong forearm and softly beg once more. “Please”

“I promise, you will get the answers you want. But—” he sighs, “I can’t. Not right now anyway. And yes, Megumi was—hiding, in a sense, at her house while I was at work because I trusted her to keep him safe”

“And what exactly is your ‘work’” You narrow your eyes at him. “You kill people or something?”

“I can’t…discuss that.”

Your anger threatens to erupt. Why is he making this so fucking difficult? He’s acting as though there’s some huge conspiracy going on. And what did you, or Megumi for that matter, need protection from? Or was it a person or people? A group? You spin on your heel to leave. For real this time. Tears burn and blur your vision, making you fumble with the doorknob. After a few attempts you finally sprint out the door.

As you're distracted with wiping the tears on your sleeve, you’re suddenly stopped in your tracks by something—someone to be exact. You stumble back.

A tall man stands before you holding a briefcase and wearing a well-tailored black suit. He slides his sunglasses down his nose, looking you up and down with eyes that strike fear into you. He slides them back over his eyes. “Are you ok, dear?” he asks in a crisp accent.

Too overwhelmed by everything, you quickly rush past. Not daring to speak or look back, but you can feel his gaze on your back. Once safely inside your house and locking the door, you peek through your window, watching the man enter Toji’s house.

A/N short one today, next chapter will be in from toji's POV

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stargazer-sims · 9 months ago

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The Art of Redemption

(part 11)

previous // next // story index

—————

Beth-Anne wakes up screaming.

Nikolai is jarred out of the best non-medicated sleep he's had in over a month, and he's momentarily confused because his brain can't determine whether the noise is real or part of a dream. With his heart thumping a bit too rapidly, he draws in a long, steadying breath. He opens his eyes and remembers that he's at Stan's place and that he and Beth-Anne had fallen asleep together.

When he rolls over, he discovers her sitting up with her palm pressed flat against her chest. They'd forgotten to close the curtains all the way, and in the dim illumination filtering in from outside, he thinks he can see tears on her face. She's breathing fast, each respiration a shallow but audible pant. It scares him. He's not sure what to do.

He says her name tentatively, pitching it like a question. "Beth-Anne?"

Either she doesn't hear him or she's not capable of processing the fact that he's talking to her. She's staring straight ahead. He doesn't know what she thinks she sees, but whatever it is, it's obvious she's terrified.

He swallows. Gathering his wits and telling himself that he has to do something, he pushes himself into a sitting position. Then, he reaches toward her and places his hand gently on her arm.

Her reaction is absolutely not what he expects.

She lets out a yelp and recoils as if he'd struck her, and scrambles away from him far enough that she gets dangerously close to falling off the bed. She gasps for breath. Her voice is ragged as she gets out a fierce and frightened, "Stay the hell away from me!"

"Beth-Anne," he says, more firmly this time. "Beth-Anne, it's me. It's Nikolai. I'm not going to hurt you."

It takes her a few seconds, but she finally focuses on him. She's still breathing hard, but he thinks she's starting to regain her sense of reality. "Nikolai," she whispers. "I... I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he says. "I think you were having a nightmare."

She nods. "Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"I don't..." she begins, but then just goes with, "Yeah."

He holds out his hand to her, cautious of touching her again. "Here, do you want me to help you? You're really close to the edge of the bed, you know."

She doesn't take his hand. It seems she's more than capable of moving back toward the center of the bed on her own, but apparently this doesn't mean she doesn't need or want his support. Before he even fully grasps what she's doing, she wraps her arms around him, sags against his chest and begins to sob. Nikolai doesn't even hesitate. He reciprocates the hug, and hopes it'll be enough to comfort her and still the trembling he can feel wherever her body touches his.

Her words are muffled by her tears and the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "I wish it would stop."

"It's over now," he assures her.

She mumbles something that sounds like, "Maybe on the outside."

He doesn't understand what she means, but he doesn't ask her to elaborate. If he were to guess, she's probably talking about the nightmare. She knows there's nothing in the room that'll harm her, but what's inside her head is most likely a whole other matter.

He holds her until she stops crying. It's only a few minutes, but he imagines how it must feel for her. Seconds, or an eternity? When he'd cried in her arms in his front hallway, he'd felt like his tears would never end, and the effort had left him exhausted, humiliated and feeling weaker than he'd felt in his life.

He searches for a way to tell Beth-Anne that he understands, that whatever emotions she's experiencing are valid, and that he'll never judge her for any of it. All he wants is for her to feel safe.

Frustratingly, everything he comes up with sounds like a platitude. In the end, he settles for telling her simply, "I'm here. I've got you."

"Thank you," she says quietly. "Don't let go."

"Not until you're ready."

"I'm sorry I woke you."

"Don't worry about that," he says. "I can always catch up on my sleep later. The most important thing is that you're okay."

"I'm probably not," she says. "I'm fucked up, honestly, and sometimes it's really hard to hide it."

"Aren't we all kind of fucked up, though?"

"Maybe everybody is a little, but not like me." She releases a long, shaky sigh. She pulls away from him. "Sorry. You don't need to hear my sob story."

"Maybe not," he says, "But, do you need to tell it?"

"What?"

"You said it's getting harder to hide it. Maybe that's a sign you shouldn't be hiding it any more."

"I don't know," she says. "I want to tell somebody, but..."

"But what?"

"People would look at me differently if they knew. They already do, because of the scars, and it's... I don't know. Sometimes I think if people knew what was really going on inside my head sometimes, they'd run away. They'd think I'm a monster and they'd never want to trust me again."

"You want to know what I see?" Nikolai says. "It's not a monster."

"You don't know everything."

"No, but I'm not clueless. I know somebody gave you those scars. You don't get something like that from bumping into an open cabinet door or whatever."

"No, you don't," she agrees. She inches closer again, and then settles herself next to him. He puts one arm around her, and she leans into him. "This isn't too weird for you, is it?"

"Sitting like this, you mean? No," he says. "What's weird about human contact? Besides, you saw me naked in the bath. If that wasn't weird, then tell me how this is."

"Fair enough." She reaches up to trace one of the scars on her face. "You really don't think these make me monstrous?"

"No, I don't," he says. "The monster isn't you. It's the person who did that to you. You're a survivor and a warrior, and... and I don't care what anybody else thinks, and I don't care if this is inappropriate to say. You're beautiful. Really fucking beautiful, and your scars don't take a single thing away from that."

He hadn't meant to make her start crying again. This time, though, she doesn't sob. She sounds tired and sad, and it makes his heart hurt.

"I don't deserve you," she says. "You, Stan and Milena. You're all too good for me."

"That's not true. You're one of the best people I know, and I promise we all love you, no matter what. We're your family."

"Family," she echoes. She's silent for a while after that, but then almost too softly for him to hear, she says, "It was my mother. She gave me the scars."

Nikolai has the sensation of his stomach dropping several centimeters, and all the muscles along his spine contract. It takes a mighty effort to relax the sudden tension. He doesn't want to telegraph his shock to Beth-Anne, even though she has to know he's horrified.

The scars on Beth-Anne's face are long and heavy, the kind he knows come from having stitches. He's got a small one from accidentally crashing his bike and cutting his forearm on a sharp rock when he was a kid. That had required three stitches and the thickness of the little scar hasn't diminished much at all since the minor injury healed.

He doesn't want to think about how many stitches Beth-Anne had needed. She has two scars on her left cheek and one on the bridge of her nose that never gets completely concealed when she wears makeup. The biggest scar runs from beside her right eye almost all the way to the corner of her mouth. She has one on the palm of her right hand too, but he doesn't think most people notice that.

Her mother!

The notion that any parent could hurt their child at all is disgusting to him, but a woman who deliberately disfigured her daughter? It's repulsive and evil.

Nikolai thinks of his own mother. Elena Pavlenko isn't a physically demonstrative person and she doesn't often express her feelings in words, but he knows with absolute certainty that she loves him and his twin sister Natascha unconditionally. Mama has always encouraged both of them in her own way, and she has never, ever laid a hand on them in anger.

"I'm sorry," is all he can think to say.

"She was going to hurt my sister," Beth-Anne goes on as if he hadn't said anything. "My baby sister Abby. She was five, and I was eleven. I was trying to protect her."

"Because you're a warrior."

"Not that day. I was a child, and I was scared shitless," she says. "Claudia got mad at Abby for spilling fruit punch all over the living room carpet. She was five. Kids that age are fucking clumsy. They break stuff, spill stuff, fall down. Normal people just clean up and move on, but not Claudia. Not that day."

He wonders if it's wrong to ask, but he can't prevent the question from slipping out. "What happened?"

"Claudia was off her face, but that wasn't new. Booze was her vice, and if she ever had a fucking shred of self-control to begin with, it went out the window when she was drinking."

Beth-Anne's tone is flat, as if she's narrating a documentary rather than explaining what must've been one of the most traumatic experiences of her childhood, but Nikolai isn't fooled by it. It's not the first time he's heard her speaking like this. She'd talked to the doctor in Taiwan this way too, the one who was giving them the news about his injury and the prognosis that he might never walk without pain again, much less skate in an international competition. She'd been outwardly masking her emotions then, and she's doing it now. Perhaps, he thinks, this is her way of shielding herself from pain.

"Claudia was so angry. She... she smashed a bottle on the door frame and came after us with it. I was... I tried to keep Abby safe by basically laying on her, and Claudia decided she was going to punish me instead for not letting her get Abby."

"My God," is all Nikolai can manage in response. "Beth-Anne, I don't even know what to say."

"There's nothing you can say," she says. "What can a normal person say to that? She made me clean up my own face in the bathroom, but it wouldn't stop bleeding. I didn't get help until hours later. Not until my coach turned up at our house that evening to see why I wasn't at the rink for her afternoon group class. Nancy, my coach... she fuckin' lost it when she saw me."

"I don't doubt it."

"I ended up in the hospital, and Nancy called the cops, and I got sent to a foster home after that. But I was only there till my brother turned eighteen. He busted me out, and we kind of went on the run for a while. We lived in this old camper van and we were broke as shit, and I lost a lot of skating time, but at least nobody was trying to kill me when it was just me and Jason."

"And what about Abby?" He's almost afraid to find out.

"I don't know," she says. "Jason... Claudia tried to get me back, and Jason said if she did, it'd only be over his dead body. He said he wanted Abby too, and that's when she told him Abby was... she was gone."

"Gone? Like, she passed away?"

"I think that's what she was implying, but Jason and I didn't want to believe that. Jason tried to find out if she was in foster care like I was, but the social workers would never tell him anything because he wasn't Abby's legal guardian. I mean, that was the rule and I get it, but we thought it was bullshit at the time."

"Understandable."

"After a while, Jason told me that we should just forget about it because it would take a miracle to get Abby back with us, if... if she was still alive. And, you know, I think I did forget for a long time, but when I think about her now, I feel like shit for not trying harder."

"You shouldn't," Nikolai says. "You were a kid. What could you have done differently?"

"I don't know. Something."

"Have you tried to look for her recently?"

"No."

"Maybe you should. Milena could help you. She probably knows people who can access confidential records and stuff."

"I'd have to think about that." She closes her eyes. "Christ, this is hard."

"We don't have to talk any more if you don't want to."

"I miss her," Beth-Anne says. "That sounds stupid, considering the last time I saw her, we were just little kids and it's been thirty years. But still..."

"It doesn't sound stupid to me. It sounds like someone who never stopped loving her sister."

"For all the good loving her did."

"Don't say that. You might've saved her."

"For what? For Claudia to have another chance to..." She doesn't finish the sentence, but she doesn't really have to. "You know what the worst part is? Every day, I'm afraid that I'm just one mistake away, one loss of control away from becoming like Claudia. That haunts me."

"You're nothing like that."

She shakes her head. "My anger, it's... I'm fucking terrified of it, Nikolai. It's like this demon inside me, and I'm so scared it's going to get out some day. I love working with all my kids, but what if... what if I...?"

"You won't." He tightens his arm around her shoulders. "Know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because it's not just that you love working with all of us, it's that you love us. If you really love someone, you don't hurt them on purpose, even if you're angry. Besides, you're a good person and you know what's right."

"Is that enough?"

"I'm not a professional or anything, but I think so," he says. "You could ask a professional, I guess. Stan can probably help you find someone, if that's what you need."

"No." She shakes her head once more. "I tried that. I'm not ready to try again."

"Okay," he says. "Is there anything you think could help?"

"Brain transplant?" she ventures.

Despite the situation, Nikolai laughs. "Well, that's one highly-improbable option. I wouldn't like it if you got a brain transplant, though. You wouldn't be you any more."

"That's kind of the point."

"No. We want you just as you are. Me, Stan and Milena, Mariah, all your little kids. I'll bet even that self-important little shit, Brett Eriksson, wouldn't want to change you."

"Hey," she says. "That little shit is your rink mate. No trash-talking."

"Sorry, coach."

"You'd better be." He thinks she's attempting to sound stern, or at least mock-stern, but it lacks the energy to have the desired impact.

"Let's try to get back to sleep," he suggests.

'You can, if you want to," she says. "I'm not sure I'll be able to."

"At least lie down."

"Okay."

They arrange themselves spoon fashion beneath the cozy handmade quilt, with his arm draped around her from behind. She hugs Champion the teddy bear to her chest. Under any other circumstances, they would never do anything like this, but the unspoken need for human warmth and closeness erases any barriers that might otherwise have existed between them.

Regardless of her assertion that she couldn't go back to sleep, Beth-Anne drifts off before Nikolai does. As for him, he lies awake, considering everything that's just happened. He's overwhelmed by the fact that she trusts him enough to show vulnerability in front of him and to share something so deeply personal, and at the same time, he's amazed by her resilience, strength and courage.

You have no idea how wonderful you are, he wants to tell her. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Maybe if you could, you'd be less afraid of your past and you'd feel better about the future.

You saved me, and you're teaching me to look forward, he adds to the silent confession. I wish I could find a way to do that for you.

#writing #the art of redemption #theartofredemption #tw child abuse #tw death #tw alchohol use #tw injury #tw blood foster care #beth-anne jones #nikolai pavlenko #stargazersims

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