#Boss Traffic Features | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xpao-bearx · 1 year

Text

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

SUMMARY: Steven Grant has come to the devastating conclusion that he was fated to be single forever. Marc didn't care for romance, Jake was only interested in one-night stands, and Steven was--well...Steven.

But when you started working alongside him at the museum's gift shop--a pretty girl younger than him with a bright smile and a cloying kindness he hasn't been the recipient of in a long time--he begins to think that maybe romance is in the cards for him.

Especially when you are just as awkward as him and sinfully lovely.

AKA "the man without love" falls for "the virgin".

RATING: 18+ minors please do NOT interact!!! This fic will contain romance, smut, and generally mature content (though not ALL parts will have explicit smut).

NOTES: I recently rewatched Moon Knight and have been in the mood to write my own fic after reading countless of amazing ones on here, then outta the blue Madonna's song Like A Virgin got stuck in my head and it got me thinking "Huh... This song is cute for Steven if he gets a girlfriend. ACTUALLY WAIT A DAMN MINUTE IT COULD FIT ALL THE MOON KNIGHT BOYS"

And so... Tada! Here's le result~ Although I'm still working out the details, this fic will have ✨️6 PARTS✨️ This fic will PROBABLY be quite self-indulgent, and at times the way the reader is written could be a bit similar to an OC. I'm so sorry if that is the case, but please understand that I'm writing this for fun and I'm just going with the flow!

Some things will also be different from the show. For example, all the boys are actually aware of each other in this fic. I try to stick as close as possible to the source material, but hey this is my fic and like I said I just wanna have fun 😂

Thank you sooo much and I sincerely hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged and appreciated so please don't be a silent reader!

Now... Join me as I hopelessly thirst over this RIDICULOUSLY gorgeous man both in fiction AND reality \(^o^)/

Part 1: Didn't know how lost I was until I found you

Steven willed his legs to go faster, pushing through London's usual busy morning crowd and into the museum he was cursed to work at. Clutching his bag in one hand, and the other holding his small thermos of coffee as he prayed to any Egyptian god listening that Donna wouldn't catch him this time.

But, of course, the only Egyptian god within Steven's vicinity was Khonshu. And the old bird only cared about how his Moon Knight was upholding his duties as his "Fist of Vengeance", not of his Avatar's petty human responsibilities such as "keeping a job".

"Late again, eh, Stevie?" Donna's annoying voice mocked Steven, pausing in his tracks as he sighed deeply and begrudgingly turned towards his boss.

"Sorry, Donna." He shot the blonde a forced smile, his grip on his thermos tightening. "Got stuck in traffic. You know how it is, yeah?"

"I wouldn't because unlike you, Stevie, I'm never late." Donna returned his fake smile along with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, enough chatter. You've got someone working with you at the gift shop from now on. Maybe this way you won't be late, yeah? Teach her how to actually sell some bloody candy."

Steven opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off when his new co-worker--you--stepped out from behind Donna. You were younger than him, around your twenties, and you were such a shy little thing with your head slightly ducked down. Your E/C eyes peeked out from behind the glasses framing your delicate features, long lashes fluttering as you flashed him a sweet smile. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the pink midi skirt you wore, matching the dainty pink ribbons that tied your H/C hair in two low pigtails.

Your smile faltered as your gaze met Steven's dark brown ones. He remained silent, mouth hanging agape as he stared at you as if you grew two heads. Your eyes lowered, heart threatening to burst right out of your poor chest.

Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should've ditched the ribbons, you looked ridiculous, right? Why was he staring at you? Oh, god, why was such a HOT guy staring at you?!

"Hello, uh, I'm Steven Grant." Your head snapped up, witnessing the twist of Steven's lips into a kind albeit awkward smile that accompanied a friendly little wave. "Steven..." He seemed to be rethinking his words before, ultimately, the dorky side of him won. "...with a V."

A smile once again bloomed across your face, feeling more at ease this time. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. With anxiety!" You chirped the latter a little too cheerfully, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you inwardly slapped yourself. No, punched yourself. "O-Oh, uh, I-I didn't mean that! I-I mean, no, it was just a joke--but a really BAD one, oh god--"

As you rambled nonsensically, Donna arched a judgmental brow at you before noticing the utterly smitten expression on Steven's face as he watched you with a huge goofy grin. Now both of Donna's eyebrows were raised to her hairline before she slowly backed away, leaving you two to fend for yourselves.

At least this time, though, Steven wouldn't be late anymore.

'She's so...'

'Weird.' Marc piped up in Steven's head.

'Amusing.' Jake snickered.

'...lovely.' Steven finished, eyes gleaming the same way it does for Egyptology as he continued to look at you as if you hung the moon in the sky.

He adored you instantly.

♡•••🌙•••♡

It's been two months since you started working at the museum's gift shop. During that time, you and Steven got closer. He discovered that you were a college dropout, reaching a stressful breaking point one day and deciding to just work for the meantime before figuring the rest of your life out. And as it turns out, you weren't so shy after all; once you were out your shell, you were just as big of a dork as Steven was and whenever you two were together, your shift passed by quickly--too quickly.

From the very first moment, you and Steven got along splendidly. He was a complete sweetheart and it always shattered your heart whenever Donna harassed him with any snarky and insensitive remarks.

Steven was used to it so he didn't mind it too much. What he wasn't used to, though, was you. You who was always so kind, lending a listening ear whenever he went on a passionate tangent regarding Egypt and even encouraging him on his dream of becoming the museum's tour guide. You who always graced him with a genuine smile that reached your ears, eyes sparkling whenever you see him as if he was your favourite art piece in the entire museum.

You who always made his heart race, palms sweaty, mind swirling without fail.

You had an intense crush on Steven--a longing, really--but what you didn't know was that he felt the same about you. But perhaps it was more than that. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and it certainly didn't miss Donna's unexpectedly sharp eyes. She'd tease him whenever you left earlier than him, looking like a kicked little puppy as his gaze trailed after you.

Today was no different as he stared helplessly at you, and it was a wonder you didn't feel the invisible daggers boring into you. There were only ten minutes left before you were done for the day and you both were stuck in inventory, but for once in his life he loved doing inventory and he desperately wished that this incredible moment with you, alone, would last forever.

'You're so fucking pathetic, ese.' Jake echoed in Steven's mind.

Nowadays Jake was becoming more vocal, at least when you're around. Marc, on the other hand, remained tight-lipped. The mercenary would much rather have absolutely nothing to do with you at all costs.

'Shut up, mate.' Steven silently argued, brows furrowing as his eyes finally broke away from you and focused on organizing some Taweret plushies.

'Only saying the truth, ese. You've got her all to yourself and the only thing you can think of is that you wish this time would last forever?' Jake scoffed. 'Be a man and step the fuck up. You know you want to, especially with the way she looks today.'

Steven's burning gaze was right back on you, eyes darkening slightly. He hated to admit it, but Jake was right. You were always so pretty, but something about today made you look that much more.

You always dressed modestly, but with the weather warming up lately you opted for a black pleated skirt that fell just above your knees and a tucked in short sleeved yellow blouse with the top few buttons undone exposing the tiniest bit of your cleavage. You also wore matching yellow heels that perfectly accentuated your legs and it made him feral.

"Steven? Are you okay?"

His eyes met yours and a smile instantly curled up his lips, nodding his head as if he wasn't just ogling you like a total perv. "Yes, I just zoned out. Sorry, love." Ugh, the way he called you 'love' so casually had you swooning.

If only he actually meant it.

You nodded back, shoving your thoughts away and returning his smile before glancing towards a portrait. "A shame what they did to this, huh?"

Steven curiously followed your line of sight, seeing a portrait of the Ennead.

"Whoever did this made a major blunder. Isn't the Ennead supposed to have nine gods, not seven?"

"YES!" You flinched slightly at Steven's exclamation, whipping your head towards him only to see him with the cutest blush ever.

"Erm, s-sorry, uh..." Steven cleared his throat, sheepishly running a hand through his unruly locks. "I just got excited. I'm surprised you knew that. Not a lot of people do--or care."

"Well, I happen to know a fantastic teacher always talking about Egyptology." You giggled, grinning at him. "And thanks to him, he's caused me to become interested in it myself and do my own research."

"Really?!" The way his eyes lit up felt as if an arrow was shot straight to your heart, and if you didn't have any self-control you would've dropped to your knees and asked--begged--this gorgeous man to marry you right then and there. "Any particular god or goddess that you're most interested in?"

"Hmm..." You pursed your lips thoughtfully, and Steven had half a mind to kiss them senseless. "I'd have to say Khonshu."

'GOOD ANSWER. KEEP HER, WORM.' Khonshu's thundering voice suddenly boomed in Steven's head.

"She's not a dog, you stupid pigeon." Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples exasperatedly.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" Steven answered quickly, forcing out a laugh. "Err, why Khonshu?"

"Well, I really like Astronomy!" You beamed. "And I find the moon to be one of the most beautiful things in our universe, so it feels fitting for my favourite Egyptian god to be Khonshu."

Despite Steven's distaste (to put it nicely) for the old bird, he could never find your response as such. Not when you looked so happy and comfortable sharing your interests with him, even though he did disagree with just one thing you said.

The moon doesn't even come close to being one of the most beautiful things this universe boasts. No, not when you existed.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

The alarm on your wristwatch cruelly popped the blissful little bubble you both were in, you turning it off as you saw that it was the end of your shift.

A regular person would be over the moon that they were finally free from their corporate prison, but not you. Not when you wished you could spend more time with Steven.

"Well..." Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, a pout forming on your lips. "Guess it's time for me to go home."

"It appears so..." Steven mumbled, his heart sinking to his stomach as he watched you put away the remaining items you were in charge of.

'It's now or never, Steven. Do something.' Jake urged.

'Do WHAT?'

'Fucking Christ, you're hopeless.' Jake sighed frustratedly, Steven's eyes rolling to the back of his head and his shoulders slumping. After a few seconds, he straightened up once more and approached you.

You were faced away from Steven, and you were having difficulty setting the final box of souvenirs you had on a shelf when Steven's hands reached from behind you and easily lifted them.

Your breath hitched, feeling his broad chest pressed against your back. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck, making you gulp.

"T-Thank you, Steven..." You murmured meekly, feeling so small as he had you completely caged. You tried to turn, but his hands suddenly dropped to your hips; keeping you in place with a gentle but firm grip.

"You look so pretty today, Y/N." He leaned down, voice deliciously low as his lips ghosted just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "But I think you can look even prettier. How 'bout tomorrow you dress all nice, and we can meet up around seven p.m. and have the best steak in town?"

Your thoughts were all jumbled up. Was this really happening or just another one of your silly fantasies? Where the hell did Steven get this sudden confidence from?

And, perhaps you were just imagining it, but he sounded...different. Not quite like the Steven you knew. He had an accent, but not the one you've gotten so familiar with and loved.

But the ache in your heart--and another part of you--was much too strong to bear. You've waited so long for this, dreamt of this, and it was finally coming true.

You definitely made the right decision to dress the way you did today and you sure as hell weren't going to let go of such a grand opportunity.

"I-I'd love to, but..." You placed your hands on top of his own still on your hips, and you wondered if he can tell just how embarrassingly sweaty your palms have gotten. "I...I know you're a vegan, Steven, so let's go somewhere else. There's a new restaurant that just opened and they've got vegan options. Um, y'know, if it's okay with you..."

The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and revelling in your addicting scent.

"Perfect." He then spun you both around so that his back was against the shelf, but you still couldn't see him. His fingers slowly, teasingly trailed upwards along your stomach before reaching your blouse's breast pocket, slipping off your name tag and putting it in one of your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa." He chuckled huskily, giving you a light push.

You were utterly dazed, cheeks flushed and stumbling in your steps slightly as you exited the room.

'What the bloody hell was THAT?!' Steven panicked.

"What do you think, ese?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just scored you a date."

'Well, I hope you're happy! Y/N looked so shocked!'

"I feel like a million dollars and Y/N looked like she liked it." Jake snickered. "Quit whining like a bitch and just be grateful, Steven. And hey, she even chose some hippie vegan place for you. Doesn't that prove she's into you?"

That immediately shushed Steven, and Jake can feel that despite Steven's complaining Steven was very much overjoyed and was already overthinking the date for tomorrow.

Jake looked down his hands, still remembering the soft curve of your hips even through your clothes and smirked.

You won't be wearing any for long now.

3K notes · View notes

lnfours · 2 months

Note

* ✰. — make a friendship bracelet

maybe “invisible string” in like a soulmate au or something like that? i feel like that could be so so cute

oh. my. god. im a sucker for a soulmate au.

join the 11k celebration!

they say that when you find your soulmate, they’re outlined in a thin, gold line. something that everyone looks forward to after their 18th birthday, some even setting out on new adventures just to find the one they’re supposed to be with forever.

your friends had all found theirs, making it official and tying the knot because that’s what you’re supposed to do. it had made you wonder if somehow, someway, you were left out of this world everyone got to be apart of. all these years on this planet and not a single person with a gold line around them.

some say you can’t go looking for them, that your soulmate has to come to you. but at this point, you had lost all hope. you had stopped waiting years back, accepting your fate that you would just be alone forever.

you were rushing on the paddock, already running a little behind because of the traffic at the gate. today was your first day in the booth with sky sports, a moment you had been working hard for since joining their internship program. and now was finally your chance and it was looking like you weren’t going to make a very great first impression.

you weren’t paying attention, looking down at the time on your phone when your body collided with another hard one. it sent the coffee you had been carrying down the front of you, your shriek catching his ears.

“oh fuck, i’m so sorry.”

“oh for fucks sake,” you mumbled, looking down at your top that was clearly ruined. once white linen now stained taupe.

“are you okay? i’m so sorry, i didn’t see…” he trailed off.

you picked your head up from your shirt, locking eyes with his. you were face to face with lando norris, the rookie driver for mclaren. his first season in formula one.

and a thin, gold line surrounding the man in front of you.

“you see it too?” he asked.

you nodded, “yeah,”

he looked over your facial features, excitement ringing in his bones as he had finally found his soulmate. and it was the most beautiful girl had ever seen in his life.

“we might have some spare team shirts,” he pointed his thumb to the hospitality area behind him, “if you wanna..”

you shook your head, “it’s alright, i think my boss might question why i’m in papaya colors.”

he smiled, looking down at the badge that hung around your neck. he noticed your name and the sky sports logo underneath.

“can i at least walk you? let them know why you’re late and smell like coffee?”

you laughed softly, nodding your head, “yeah, i’d like that.”

248 notes · View notes

veryinnovative · 5 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic | january 2, prompt: fire | word count: 1.575 featuring older ceo regulus black and younger intern james potter

“A truffle wagyu burger with hand-cut fries? What does that even fucking mean?!” James shouts into the receiver as he winds through the busy masses of bodies crossing the roads, the traffic light across blinking for him to hurry. “Can’t I pick up something for him from Burger King or something? You know, like a normal human being?”

On the other end of the line, Barty snorts a derisive sound. “Yeah, you try feeding him cheap chain franchise slob and see how that plays out for you. The fucker thinks Versace is a low-class brand, James. He probably doesn’t even know what the inside of a Burger King looks like. Besides, that place is fire. They have good shit.”

Groaning, James picks up the speed and sets out for a sprint, having missed the bus to Howick and resorted to the most reliable way of transport—his two sets of healthy, always moderately trained legs.

“Are you running? You better not be fucking running, Potter. You’re going to come back all sweaty and with creases in your cheap-ass button-up and then I’m going to be the one getting shit for not driving you and ruining the image of Regulus Black’s executive assistant—”

“Suck a dick, Barty,” James bites back after barely evading a car, its tires screeching at him in warning. He throws the driver an apologetic smile.

“I’m serious. You meal-prepped, Potter! Asked where the fucking office microwave is, are you out of your mind? Lunch is on company credit, for fuck’s sake. You’ve got an image to uphold now you’re working for Black Enterprises!”

“The cafeteria is too rich for my taste. Besides, I like meal-prepping. It’s calming.”

“Your fucking tuna stinks up the place.”

“Maybe that’s just your big bullshitting mouth.”

“Listen here, you piece of—”

“Oops, entering a tunnel, hear that?” James cups a hand over the receiver and makes a low, grating sound—mimicking the static rasp of a bad cellular connection. “See you!”

He tucks away the phone before entering Beauxbatons, the restaurant Barty had told him to go to because Regulus was craving his guilty snack, which, to James, sounded like an item right off a witch’s menu. Then again, he was a poor twenty-three-year-old who had just had a gap year fresh out of university, lived in a run-down apartment tucked in Southern London, and knew nothing of the expensive tastes a man like Regulus Black possessed. Thirty-something years old and not a single skin blemish. Must be all the fucking truffle and caviar and whatever Boiron guava puree he eats.

“Welcome,” one of the employees asks. Of course, all of the staff are also wearing pristine clothes and have perfectly sleeked-back hair.

“Hi,” James answers, now all too conscious of the developing sweat marks below his armpits and the dampness cooling on his back. “I’m, uh, here to pick up lunch? Sorry, I forgot my order so let me have a peek at my messages…”

The employee blinks like James has grown a second head. “Take-away? Sir, this is a dine-in restaurant.”

Good thing James has come prepared. He shuffles through the contents of his bag, phone in the other hand and tip of his tongue peeking out in full concentration. “Oh, that’s alright. I brought something to carry it with me. I also got some Tupperware if you don’t mind rinsing it beforehand.”

“No, sir, it’s not a matter of containers,” the employee starts, her lips pursed into a tight line. “We don’t do takeaways.”

James stops and frowns, bag half slung over his shoulder. “Isn’t this Beauxbatons?”

“It is.”

“My boss sometimes has people pick up his lunch here.”

“You must be mistaken… We do not lend any type of service like that.”

James sighs. Great. Amazing. Just what he needed. “Right. Do you mind if I make a call? I’m sorry, there must have been a mistake then.”

The employee, undoubtedly taking pity on him and his disorderly state that suggests he’s been running the past ten minutes, nods. “Of course.”

Heaving a sigh, James scrolls through his contact list and taps on ‘Regulus’, never mind that he has been firmly instructed to only call him during emergencies. But considering the sort of day he’s been having, he considers this one.

Regulus picks up after the third ring. “Potter?”

It’s been two weeks and he still won’t fucking call him by his name, going off on tangents about formal office conduct and etiquette. Potter this, Potter that, bridling when he’s called by his first name for a change in an environment that would kiss the soles of his feet if he’d ask. “Hi, I’m at the place you sent me the address of but they don’t do takeaways so I wanted to know what you want to eat. You cool with Wagamama?”

There’s a pregnant pause—all too telling of how Regulus is probably taking a deep breath and doing the thing where he either pinches the bridge of his nose or rubs his eyebrows. “Have you mentioned the takeaway is for me?”

“No, I haven’t.” What difference would it make, James wants to ask. But in a world where Regulus Black is pretty much revered, he is confident it would make a little difference at least.

“Do that, Potter.”

James rolls his eyes before returning his attention to the employee. “He wants you to know his name is Regulus, by the way.”

Her eyes widen. “Reg—Do you mean Mr. Black?”

James clicks his tongue. “That the one.” The employee doesn’t look convinced and James holds up his hand just above his chest. “About this tall? Curly black hair? Probably in one of today’s morning tabloids, not hard to miss. I could put him on speaker if you’d like?”

There’s the frantic wave of her hands, head shaking vigorously. “Oh! You should have told me from the start, Sir. Please, what would Mr. Black like to eat for lunch? I—I’m sorry. We are very exclusive in our service and are most honored Mr. Black has once again chosen our humble establishment—”

“Just,” James sighs, skimming over the menu laminated standing on an easel by the entrance, not possessing the energy to listen to someone go off on tangents about his boss again. Not like he does so internally at night, anyway. Absolutely not. “A truffle wagyu burger with hand-cut fries.”

“Not fries, a salad—” Regulus reminds him over the phone, but James has decided that he will just about eat whatever James decides on.

“Potter—” Regulus tries again and James flat-out hushes him. To his surprise, Regulus actually shuts up.

The employee nods, over-excited. “Oh, of course, an excellent choice. How would Mr. Black like it to be cooked?”

James shrugs. “I don’t know, on a grill?”

There’s a faint garbled noise coming from Regulus that James will definitely tuck away in his memory.

But the employee is too thrilled to be serving someone as pompous as Regulus to notice the lack of culinary terminology James possesses. “Oh, I meant the cook of the meat!”

“The cook of the meat?” James repeats. “I don’t know, whoever is on shift? Regulus, who do you want to cook your burger?”

The employee makes a high-pitched sound at the same Regulus sighs in a very exaggerated, exhausted manner. “Just tell them medium rare.”

“Medium? What is this, a video game difficulty?”

“Medium rare!” the employee chirps, her smile wry. Strands of hair stick out of the previously perfectly pulled-back bun like the situation has created plenty of static to dishevel her updo. “One medium rare wagyu—”

“Don’t forget the fries,” James adds, unable to fight off the grin cleaving his face. This, he loves most—fucking with rich people. ‘Who do you want to cook your meat?’ he’s a genius for that one, an absolute innovative mastermind. Make him head of corporate next at this rate.

“You had to call me for this?” Regulus asks him as James watches the poor girl scurry off to the back, undoubtedly to ring in the order and gush about the perfect, rich, hot-looking Regulus Black on the phone by the restaurant’s hallway.

“It was an emergency. I get you the wrong order and you, I dunno, bite off my head like Miranda Priestly.”

“I don’t know a Miranda Priestly.”

“No? Shame. Would’ve loved her, a real feisty woman that one. She works in the fashion industry, though.”

“Potter.”

James tries not to bark out a laugh. He can’t help it, Regulus is just too easy. “Yeah, I’ll get you your overtly expensive A3-grade cut of meat that could pay for my weekly rent. Didn’t take you for the type of man to get burgers, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m asking employees of a lower tax bracket to pick them up for me.”

Okay, that’s kind of funny. Regulus Black can be fucking funny if he wants to, he just rarely chooses to. James barely masks his snort at it. “Got me there, boss.”

“Get a cab back to the office. And stop calling me boss.”

“My bad, Sir,” James drawls, knowing that Regulus reacts particularly well to this specific formality.

A second of silence that stretches on for a little too long. James clears his throat, wondering if the line cut off. “Regu—”

“See you soon, Potter,” Regulus speaks, faster than usual, almost like he’s flustered, and with a strange pitch to his words before he hangs up.

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #jegulus fanfiction #marauders #marauders au #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #this one is for mil bc she plotted this w me so extensively #and also for cass <3 bc they synced w my brain today #ino microfic tag!

397 notes · View notes

munariplans · 1 year

Note

hey! idk if you’re taking requests but this is kind of a suggestion bc i don’t have a plot or anything but you’re a good writer and i think you’d kill it with a single mom!reader x mean ceo/lawyer!nat i think the whole class difference and maternity would be nice to see nat learning how to navigate them.

-🎈

hi 🎈 anon!

thank you for the request / suggestion, wrote a shorter fic with this one but hopefully it lives up to expectations! sorry for the longer wait, i was away on holiday for a while and didn't have access to tumblr on my laptop.

hope you're doing well!

lena | n. romanoff

ceo! natasha romanoff x single mother! reader word count: 3.2k

‘Where are you? Everyone else is here already.’

‘Did you get stuck in traffic? Even Bill’s wife, the third one, who’s coming from a flight from Washington’s arrived. Reply me.’

‘Are you ignoring me?’

By the third undelivered text, Natasha had had enough. She quietly excused herself from the group of investors she had been speaking to, set her drink down, and headed to the balcony to call you. There was anger, a sense of betrayal even, and if she dared herself feel it, a twinge of worry for you standing her up, as well.

But she swallowed all those thoughts down, as the phone began to ring. It was connected, and rang once, twice, before the dial tone went dead and her call abruptly ended. She stared back at the dark screen of her phone, confusion written on her features, and sighed frustratedly. This was an important fundraising gala. This was where the company was finally going to accomplish the funds needed to build the new headquarters outside of the United States, and this was where she had wanted to show you off to the world.

You were her arm candy, her prize, but tonight…tonight you were missing from her arms.

Natasha struggled to force herself to endure the rest of the night without you by her side. All she had wanted to do was to come find you, to make sure that you were okay to berate you for standing her up, but instead she had to sit through another round of ribbon cuttings, expensive, tasteless champagnes, and meaningless small talk with the ultra wealthy just to rub shoulders even more. It was torture, and nothing could quell the worry anger in the back of her mind.

So when the clock finally struck eleven and the festivities had relatively died down, she was the first to leave the venue; ordering her chauffeur to drive straight to your apartment. The trip was silent, and even the elderly man could sense the tension radiating from his boss’ shoulders at that moment.

Bursting through your doors exactly half an hour later, Natasha saw the abandoned party gown she had picked out for you laid across your stained couch, along with the new heels she had bought still in the designer box she had bought them from, and she knew you never even bothered to actually come for the gala.

She screamed for your name, knocking down the doors to each room in the tiny apartment, making a mess with each step, but she didn’t care at that point. She was livid, and you had betrayed her.

But right before she could knock down the door to the final room, the one painted baby pink and with an engraved sign reading Lena’s Room, it had clicked open and you walked out, staring at her face-to-face while shutting the door behind you.

Natasha was breathing heavily, her fists curled. She was confident she looked almost insane by then; a complete switch from the composed, sophisticated CEO she was just nearly an hour before. But you looked her up and down, and showed no signs of fear, however. You simply sighed, and nodded back towards the room.

“She’s got an unrelenting fever. Been at it since midday, the sitter told me. When I got home, her forehead’s sizzling to the touch. I just got her to bed, Natasha.”

“You didn’t come for the gala.”

“How could I?” It was your turn to fold your arms, walking past her to the living room. She followed. “Lena was so sick, Nat. I couldn’t just leave her alone for the night.”

It was then that things took a turn for the worse. What you said ticked something in Natasha, something she simply could not let go for the remainder of the night as the two of you began arguing.

“You humiliated me! In front of everyone!” Natasha had yelled, hands outstretched and veins appearing on her neck, “I was the only one without a date there, the only one!”

“What was I supposed to do?” You retorted, “My phone was dead, and forgive me if I managed to miss out on it once, because I was busy taking care of my sick child!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you could’ve texted me!”

“It still wouldn’t have changed things!”

Natasha had moved two steps from the kitchen counter to the sofa, where you were seated, still in your nurse scrubs and hair tied in a bun. You looked absolutely exhausted, and the tone in your voice was well over the point of wanting to go on with the argument. Natasha knew the bags under your eyes had not only come from the numerous shifts at the hospital, but also the responsibility of taking care of a toddler all alone as well.

But she had gone too far now. She couldn’t back down. “You stood me up! You stood me up when you could’ve sent her to a friend, or called the sitter back to take care of her for just a few hours more, couldn’t you? Or did you never want to come to the gala to support me anyway?”

She saw you pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. “Natasha…”

“Fuck, I bet the kid’s not even sick. She probably just wanted attention, and you so kindly spoil her with everything, of course she can manipulate you for this too!”

But at that point, small sniffles could be heard from the corner of the room, and the both of you looked up at the same time. Your daughter had apparently climbed out of bed, still hugging her stuffed animal, and at the sight of her staring up at the two of you, tears flowing down her face, Natasha felt a surge of guilt wash over what she had just said. Though she knew Lena probably could not grasp all of the words she had been saying, to see you immediately stand and scoop her up in your arms to get her away from Natasha was hurtful enough.

“Mama fight? With Aunty Nat?” Had been her exact words, to which you pressed your hand against her forehead and shushed her quietly to coax her back to sleep.

“No, sweetheart. We’re fine, Mama and Aunty Nat are fine. Let’s go back to bed, okay? Your fever’s still high.”

But Lena peeked through your arms to see Natasha, then up to your face, and Natasha caught her rubbing something from your face too. “Why Mama cry?”

Oh. That had done it. Natasha knew she was fucked, and she had hurt both you and your daughter with the way she had stormed in tonight and began accusing the both of you things that were never true. All because she was too headstrong to listen to anyone’s reasons but her own, all because she was too insecure and possessive over you.

“Darling,” Natasha began, but you stopped her, hand begging her not to follow the both of you to Lena’s room.

“Please, Natasha, just leave,” you said through broken sobs, readjusting Lena to hide your face from Natasha. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning, but please…leave.”

The slam of the front door just seconds later was enough indication to show off the redhead’s frustration and anger, but you were not sure if it was directed at you, or herself.

–

Two weeks later Natasha still received an invite to a play your daughter was in, handed to her by her secretary in the middle of a lunch meeting. She secretly opened it in front of her partners, and the sense of relief and joy that spread through her had her instantly itching to call you on the phone.

“Thanks, baby, for the invitation,” she said later on, while you were on a break of your own. She could hear the roaring ambulance sirens in the background, and knew you were on a time limit. “And I’m really sorry, still, for that night.”

“It’s fine, Nat,” you reassured her, voice tired as usual. It broke Natasha’s heart to always see you working harder than anyone and receiving so little in return, but as you had always reminded her, even at the beginning of your relationship, that you were never looking for help or money from her, and that you refused to accept such as well. “Lena said she misses you as well. She wants you to be there.”

It was hard for Natasha to imagine a child could have such feelings for her. She had never grown up with the love and affection of someone so much younger, someone who looked up to her almost like an idol, and whenever Lena leaned in for kisses or ran up to her for hugs, Natasha knew you always caught her stiffening; an involuntary reflex she hoped you would forgive her for.

But it had been almost two years since you and Natasha had been going out, and even the billionaire knew that you were not going to wait forever for someone who was not going to love Lena as much as you did.

So she swallowed her fears, and replied, “That’s nice. Tell her…I miss her too.”

She could feel you smiling from the other end. “Will do. I love you, Nat.”

“I love you too.”

–

The night of the play, with the both of you sat huddled in the dimly lit school theatre and watching Lena dance around as a sunflower with a group of other little flowers and animals, Natasha watched as your eyes lit up each time the spotlight came on your daughter, and how you would excitedly hold her hand and point Lena out to her throughout the duration of the show. She also watched as Lena continuously looked out at the crowd for the both of you, and how her eyes, reflected in yours, lit up the same way yours did when she found the two of you too. The woman couldn’t help but give a small wave as well whenever Lena grinned at her.

“Mama! Aunty Nat!” Lena screamed at the end of the play, running over to the both of you as you picked her up and peppered kisses all over her face. The little girl basked in the love and laughter from her mother.

“You were amazing, sweetheart. The best there is,” you said to her, still holding her tight, as Natasha allowed herself to sneak a kiss to Lena’s cheek. “Mama is so proud of you.”

Then Lena turned to Natasha, and grinned at her. “And Aunty Nat too?”

Natasha caught your eyes, and smiled reassuringly. “Of course. Aunty Nat is more proud than your Mama, even!”

–

When you finally tucked her in that night, Lena’s eyes full of the world and the stars in the sky, you pressed a final kiss to her forehead, and muttered a I love you before leaving her room. Natasha was in the living room, watching the news on your old, jacked up television, bottle of expensive wine in hand.

“Anything good?” You settled beside her, her arms instinctively reaching out to wrap around you.

She shrugged. “It’s the news. How’s Lena?”

“Still buzzing from the night earlier, but who can blame her? You really went all out with the pizza and ice cream after the play, she’s the happiest she’s been in weeks. Especially since…”

Especially since the apartment had its electricity cut off for a full day earlier in the week, because you couldn't pay the bills on time. Natasha stiffened. “...You know, you should always tell me, if these kind of things happen again.”

“I can get by on my own, Nat. I don’t want your charity, remember?” You sighed, signalling the end of the conversation before it spiralled into another argument.

In an attempt to smooth over the tension, Natasha offered, “We should go on a vacation soon.”

But all you responded with was a mirthless chuckle. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Why?”

“Natasha, I can’t just go on a vacation,” you chimed, “I’ve got shifts at the hospital, bills to pay, and Lena’s far too young to travel any time soon.”

The woman in front of you furrowed her brows. “Who said Lena’s coming?”

You had to do a double take to ensure you heard her right. “Why wouldn’t Lena be coming?”

“I just thought, since she’s with her father on some weekends, we could let her stay there for a little longer. A week, two weeks, perhaps? Just some alone time, you know, you and me. Could help us get away from the stress and troubles of work for a while.”

Natasha felt you stiffen, before your touch was abruptly pulled away from her. “Natasha, where is all this coming from?!”

“Come on, you can’t tell me that you’re not stressed.”

“I am, but Lena is not the source of it!” You retorted, standing up. Natasha had gone into a protective pose too by then. “I can’t just leave her at her dad’s whenever it’s convenient. You and I know what kind of person he is!”

“But baby–”

“–I’m not leaving Lena and that’s final!” You half-screamed, not caring if the neighbours could hear, or if you were hurting Natasha’s feelings by then. “Nat, she is and will always be my top priority, and if you can’t handle that, if you can’t handle sharing a top spot in my heart with her…I can’t be with you.”

There was silence, lasting for a minute or two, as you breathed in heavy gulps of air, while Natasha sat, fiddling with the clasp of her watch, thinking of what to say, or do.

So you continued, “You can’t use money to figure your way out of this one, Nat. To make your problems…just disappear. Not with this.”

“You’re giving me an ultimatum?” Natasha looked at you then, eyes tearing up too.

Your heart squeezed in part longing, part regret, but you had to stand strong. You had to put your family first. “Yes. So please, I need you to make a decision, because I can’t keep going on like this. And it’s not fair for you to stay in this relationship if it's just for me, and not Lena, too.”

You caught the woman before you shaking her head, letting her tears fall onto her lap, refusing to wipe them away. But as soon as the moment of vulnerability appeared, it went away just as fast, as Natasha abruptly stood, brushing past you, made her way to the door and slammed it on her way out.

Lena did not need to hear your cries of anguish and betrayal that night, sobbed into the pillows you and Natasha so often shared the past two years, all gone by then.

–

Sat by the park bench the two of you used to frequent, Natasha allowed her tears to flow once more; an indication of her grief of the past two years, an indication of the life she had just thrown away. Perhaps it would also have been an indication of the loss of the best thing that could ever happen to her after all.

A child was playing with his mother at the swings nearby, looking no older than Lena was. Their laughter the only thing audible through the ringing in Natasha’s ears. She watched her pick him up, carry him around to the other playground equipment, and her smile and eyes reminded Natasha of you.

You, who always assured Natasha that she was doing right by Lena, that she was good at being a mother too. You, who patiently taught her how to prepare food for Lena, how to put on her socks and tie her braids that she so very much loved, even how to deal with the temper tantrums that stressed her out, but never you. You, who made Natasha believe she deserved to be happy as a mother, too.

Natasha thought of all the times you would come home after your shifts to not only take care of Lena, but also make time for her, too. How you would sacrifice your own time and energy to try to balance the two of them and their needs; and Natasha cringed. It should never have to be between them, she shouldn’t have had to make you choose. And she shouldn’t have been so selfish, should have made compromises, as you have, when being the girlfriend of a billionaire CEO with a schedule as jam packed as hers.

She wonders if she’s fucked it all up. She wonders if she’s too late. There was only one way to find out.

–

“Can we get ice cream, Mama?” Lena’s big, curious eyes always made your heart soft, and gave you a hard time denying her.

You brushed back a strand of her hair, and nodded. “Of course darling, anything for you.”

Though, as the both of you arrived at the usual ice cream shop that you, her, and Natasha frequented, you found yourself cursing as you checked the contents of your wallet, clearly forgetting that payday was still in a week. Lena was already eagerly eyeing the flavours, and you knew her usual order was a premium.

“Hey, Lena, sweetheart,” you called out to her, “Mama’s a little short on cash today. We’ll just have your ice-cream, yeah? I’m not hungry.”

Your daughter pouted, but in return, you gave her your most upbeat smile, and readjusted the straps on her backpack. “Just this once. And I’ll ask them to give you an extra big scoop, so you can eat for the both of us!”

But her gaze was somewhere behind, and before you could follow it, Lena was already pointing to a person behind you, screaming, “Aunty Nat!”

You caught Natasha’s gaze through the shop windows, and there she was, big bouquet of flowers in hand, dressed in the blouse Lena had picked for her when you went shopping once, and sporting the most uncertain grin on her face.

You scooped Lena up protectively, preventing her from running straight to Natasha, but Natasha had only come forward, keeping a distance safe enough for you, but close enough for you to hear what she had to say.

“I’m sorry,” she started, moving one of her thumbs to reveal a smaller bouquet of flowers behind the large ones, in Lena’s favourite sunflowers, “I fucked everything up.”

You nodded, but did not say anything.

“I realise it now, even though I’ve always known, but…I’m here, baby. For the long run, for the long haul, for everything. With both you, and Lena. I cannot imagine a life without either of you, and I’m very sorry for having made you choose between us in the past. If you give me a chance, just one last chance, I will show you how sorry I am, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Lena was reaching out for the sunflowers, and sighing, you allowed her to. Setting her down, she ran towards Natasha and the woman instinctively picked her up, peppering kisses on her face like you so often did. In response, you took the bigger bouquet, and gave her a soft smile.

“So you’re not leaving us, Nat?”

Natasha shook her head furiously, pressing a kiss to your cheek too. “Never. Sorry, again, for making you think otherwise.”

“I’ll try harder, I’ll make more time for the both of you,” she assured, “Tell me how I can make things up to you, my love.”

You pecked her on the lips, still feeling the passion and love even after weeks of separation. “You can start by buying Lena and I ice cream for today. Let’s go.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #angst with a happy ending #angst with fluff

493 notes · View notes

imnotsimpingyouare · 1 year

Text

ENAMORED (II)

Modern Hantengu clones X Reader

Featuring:

"Pissed Cubicle Worker" Sekido

"Depressed Programmer" Aizetsu

"That Guy in the Alley" Karaku

"Unfunny YouTube Prankster" Urogi

"Disappointed Grandpa" Hantengu

"Delinquent Middle Schooler" Zohakuten

"Possibly a Criminal" Akaza

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

You will NOT be shipped with Zohakuten or Hantengu because:

A.) One is an old man

B.) One is a young boy

Ty for your time 😌

fem!Y/N goes for her last job with Murata's Service Emporium 😢 but gets an interesting offer due to her *OUTSTANDING* work.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Hantengu.

You've heard of that household. They order some sort of cleaning service every month or so. Only, it's never been you that has gone before, so how exactly do you know about their service requests?

BECAUSE APPARENTLY THEY'RE FUCKING INSANE.

Some of the other employees have literally returned from the job crying.

WHICH INCLUDES, BUT IS NOT LIMITED TO TERRY THE GARDENER! A TALL, BUFF MAN!

WHAT DEMON IN THAT HOUSE IS MAKING A GROWN MAN CRY LIKE THAT? WHY DOES YOUR BOSS HATE YOU? WHY CAN'T YOU JUST CURL UP IN A BALL AND FOSSILIZE.

You sigh. A big sigh. A really, really long sigh.

If you had the heart to, you would've quit the moment your boss revealed he was going to fire you, only.. you knew it was like him to try and withhold your paycheck for the week if you did. Obviously, he can't do that if you've done your job on schedule for any amount of time, but you're not gonna jump through flaming hoops just to stick it to the guy.

Easier to just get this over with.

You grab your supplies and load your car.

Yes, they make you use your own transport for this job. No, they don't pay for gas.

Maybe losing this job won't be so bad after all.

Starting up the map on your phone, you type in the adress of this demon house and get ready to be very fucking miserable for however long you spend there.

The clouds are grey this morning, as they are every morning, but this morning is different. Maybe it's because you fell down two flights of stairs. Maybe it's because you held some handsome guy's hand this morning when he helped you up. Maybe it's because you literally just got fired like 10 minutes ago. But something is different.

○○○○○

Unbeknownst to you, in the opposite lane of traffic, Sekido is screaming at the cars infront of him.

Nevermind, it's not just Sekido. In some strange sort of... brotherly bonding ritual, both Sekido and Zohakuten are screaming at the car infront of them (which is going the speed limit).

"WHY WON'T YOU PRESS YOUR DAMN GAS? THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT HERE WITH JOBS AND SHITHEADS WITH SCHOOL! 20 ABOVE THE LIMIT NEVER KILLED ANYBODY!"

"...Sekido, I think 20 above the limit has killed people. BUT THOSE PEOPLE WERE GOING TOO DAMN SLOW!"

Sekido's grey minivan pulled up to the school. Zohakuten grabbed his bag and opened the door, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"...Zohakuten."

Red eyes met his, and he felt slightly uncomfortable at how calm Sekido was managing to be.

"....what."

"....one day."

"wha–"

"One day without doing some stupid shit to get sent home or to the principal's office. If you do, I'll... I don't fucking know, have the gods come down and kiss you on the nose one by one. Just be good. Ok?" He said, almost in a... defeated tone.

Zohakuten, for a moment, was dumbfounded. Had Aizetsu taken over Sekido's body? Was this some sort or trick? Who did he think he was? It's not his fault he'll never use this crap again. Nor is it his fault that some of the kids are little shitheads.

Instead of saying all this, out of respect for Sekido's effort to be *nice*

(Literally, beads of sweat were beginning to form on Sekido's face, and he looked constipated)

....he nodded.

"Okay. I want ice cream after school."

And shut the car door.

Sekido was left by himself, face immediately breaking back into that scowl he wore so well.

"Fucking ice cream. I might as well get him a horse and a spaceship while I'm servicing His Majesty. Seriously, how hard is it not to throw desks?"

○○○○○

Your car stopped infront of a mansion.

Maybe not a mansion, but.. it was something.

A three story house with 2 vehicles in front (AND A MOTORCYCLE?). However, the only decorations in front were a little knome and a set of windchimes. You could also faintly hear "Barbie Girl" playing from somewhere in the home.

At the very least, it was... a flattering home. The outside didn't look too bad, but you were at least slightly concerned about the inside.

You knocked on the door, cleaning supplies in hand.

"Murata's Service Emporium!"

The door creaked open slightly, before opening to reveal a rather handsome, dark-skinned man in nothing but a towel and.... a face mask and hair curlers.

His eyes were a deep emerald green, a complete contrast from his skin that you were HERE FOR.

He looked you up and down, before turning his attention back into the house. "Aizetsu! Your escort is here!"

Immediately your face turned red. "Wha- did you not hear what I said when I knocked!?"

He raised a brow at you.

"Service Emporium?"

Oh.

That actually sounds pretty bad when taken out of context.

"...okay, but why would I be holding all of these cleaning supplies?"

He looked down at you again.

"I don't know what freaky stuff Aizetsu's into, okay? Are you coming in or not?" He huffed.

You reluctantly waddled in and set your things down.

Oh my.

It was a disaster.

The dishes were piled sky-high, the floor SEVERELY UN-VACUUMED... you had work to do.

Another man, almost identical to the one who opened the door, approached you in a rush. His eyes, though, were blue, and significantly more lifeless than the guy before him.

"I'm sorry.. I am Aizetsu. As you can see, our house is a disaster... sorry."

And he walked away.

THAT WAS ALL HE HAD TO SAY?

WAS HE EVEN GOING TO PAY YOU?

HE'S JUST GONNA LEAVE?

You were starting to understand the struggle.

○○○○○

The camera lens was clean. The audio was crisp. In his browser "solt jasz musuc backgriund" was playing.

Everything was perfect.

And now, out of his room once again, was the legendary, the one and only, greatest failed theater kid of all time..

Urogi!

And he was ready. Ready to bamboozle this busy, strangely attractive woman that wandered her way into his home. Ready. But she wasn't.

Which is what made it good content.

And good content -> motorcycle upgrades.

Which he wanted.

Very badly.

So there he was, creeping up behind you, four cans of silly string in one hand, a camera in the other.

You, on the other hand, were almost finished up here. You cleaned in and out, over and under, anywhere you could. The dishes were dried and put away, and everything was soon to be in order. The only task you had left was to sweep the kitchen. A relatively easy job. After that, you could get out of here, and... you didn't have a job to go to.

Hadn't thought of that in a while.

But there wasn't any time to think about it when you heard something being set on the counter behind you. You turned around, only to be met with a man leaping at you.

Naturally, you dodged out of the way, dropping the broom and hooking your attacker around the neck, locking him in a chokehold. All was well until a flurry of colors came flying toward you into your hair and eyes.

Immediately you were overpowered, your key sense being obstructed. You were pushed over near the sofa, being sprayed relentlessly with some sort of squishy string-like material.

You were quick to recover, and reached up to what you assumed to be the sofa, taking off one of the pillows and swinging wildly at your attacker. Terrifying laughter was heard from above you, and you overturned them until you had them in prime suffocating position. Moments into your retaliation, you pulled some of the strange material off of your face, only to see the face of both people you met earlier. Except this one had yellow eyes.

You paused in your struggle with him, both of you huffing and puffing like you were about to blow someone's house away.

He stared up at you, and you stared down at him, before your gaze flickered up to the counter, only to see a camera placed there and aimed directly at the two of you.

Footsteps distracted you from this realization.

"Aizetsu? Your escort got loose. I think she got confused. Did you not tell her about being a quad?" It was the green-eyed man, back with his bunny slippers and some actual clothes, but no hair curlers or face masks.

"IM NOT A PROSTITUTE!" You snapped at him, smacking the man under you again with the pillow for good measure.

"Why the hell is there a woman on top of Urogi? Why are you just watching, Karaku? You sick fuck.."

Another voice was heard, deeper and more gruff than the rest. You looked up, and saw another man identical to all three of the others! Unlike his counterparts, this one had blood-red eyes.

"What's going on? Are you all siblings?" You said, before mentally face-pamling. Of course they're all siblings. What else would they be?

"Of course we're siblings. What else would we be? Idiot." The red-eyed man growled, before hanging his keys and stomping off to who knows where.

The man under you tapped on your forehead.

"...can I get up?"

You rolled your eyes at him, delivering another smack with the pillow before getting off of him. "You don't just sneak up on some unsuspecting person like that!" You scolded, but he didn't listen. He was already busy fiddling with his camera.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, mumbling a slew of curses before going to pick up the broom.

"So clean, so clean! It looks like this house is brand new! Where are they? The cleaner? Where are they?" A labored, weak voice sounded from the hallway. An old man appeared, and hobbled toward you. You tried backing away, but it was no use, as he grabbed your face to examine you.

"Lovely girl, lovely girl! Cleaned up everything perfectly! You're the angel who cleans up my grandsons' mess every month, are you? Lovely girl!" His voice was trembling, as were his hands.

He must be talking about the company. But before you have time to explain, he cuts you off.

"I wish to hire you, lovely girl! Lovely girl! You can live in my home, in the spare room! You can clean up and teach my grandsons how to behave! Will you? Don't leave an old man like me helpless. Their mother isn't around to teach them to behave, will you? Lovely girl?"

Your eyes widened at the offer. "..hire? Like, for money?"

The old man laughed. Well, he tried, but it came out as a cough. "For housing? Food? Anything you'd like?"

"....and for money?"

"...yes, I'll pay you weekly."

You needed time to recollect your thoughts! Living here, with unknown people? Cleaning! More cleaning!

But at least you'd have a roof over your head, and food, and 'whatever you'd like' whatever that was. And you'd even have your own money on the side. Maybe you could save for a house? To go back to school?

At that point, only Karaku and the old man were left in the room, eyes trained on you. Karaku's lips broke into a smile. He knew what your answer was going to be.

"..I'll do it."

242 notes · View notes

ikykwkleeknoww · 1 month

Text

One Hug

warnings: angst if you squint, tooth rotting fluff

changbinxgn!reader

w/c: idk but it’s short, maybe 2 minutes?

a/n: it’s just a quick one-shot, so it’s not proofread. Enjoy reading tho!

After a long day, Yn couldn’t wait to be home. Their boss was in a bad mood, causing a negative effect on her workers.

It was late, close to midnight when Yn could finally leave their office’s building. The neon lights of the streets embracing their features, but none were able to hide the dark bags underneath their eyes.

They quickly sent a message to their boyfriend, letting him know that they’ll be on their way back. I’m off now, I’ll be home in 20, if there’s no traffic. The male on the other side of the phone replied immediately: Alright baby, be careful.

And indeed, they were lucky to make it home quickly. Opening the front door, eager to see their loved one, Yn slipped out of their shoes as quick as possible. As soon as their feet were freed from the cuffing material, they made their way into the kitchen.

The smell of freshly cooked food swiveled around them, their tastebuds inpatient to get to taste savory flavors. “Oh, hello my love! How was your day?” The buff male stood by the stove, a pink apron bound around his waist. “Exhausting, what did you made?”

Yn peaked into the pot, a stew of vegetables and cut up chicken breast playing around in a boiling broth. “It’s your favorite, off you go now baby. Take a quick shower and when you’re back, the table will be set”. Changbin placed a peck on his lovers lips before they dashed off to the bathroom.

Mere minutes later, Yn found themself back in the kitchen. Two bowls placed on the small table, steam dancing in the air. The young couple sat down before digging into a delicious meal.

“You said your day was exhausting, mind telling me what happened, baby?” The male mentioned, eyes locking with Yn’s. They swallowed down the food, licking the remaining spice off their lips before speaking.

“My boss was in a bad mood, she let out all her rage on us. Gosh, she was unbearable and I was so close to punching her”, Yn whined.

Changbin giggled at his partner’s antics, he found ninety percent of what they did cute. The way they slept, laughed and hummed a melody when doing the chores. The way their eyes sparkled and the most beautiful smile adoring their face, anytime he brought home a bouquet of pretty flowers.

“Man, she stressed the hell out of me today, bin” Yn groaned, throwing their head back in annoyance. “Is there anything I can do to help you, my love?” The younger shook their head, “no, this meal was delicious though, thank you.”

After having finished cleaning the dishes and clearing up the table, the couple found themselves in the bedroom. “Uhm, actually… there is something that could help me right now Binnie” Yn admitted.

Changbin looked up from his phone, he was laying on the king sized bed, waiting for his love to crawl into bed with him. “And what is that, pretty?” The latter shyly looked down at their feet, “can I have a hug? Just one hug from you always makes me feel so much better.”

The male pouted at their adorable behavior, “come here, my cutie!” He immediately locked his phone, throwing it next to him. His now unoccupied arms stretching wide, perfectly enough to have a person fit in between them. And Yn did just that, they climbed onto his chest.

He was warm, like always. They could hear his steady heartbeat beating rhythmically -like a calm melody, ready to lull them into their dreams.

“Are you felling better, my love?” His soothing voice sent a heavy effect onto their eyes. Yn hummed,”mhm, it’s so comfy here, Binnie . Never wanna leave your arms, ever. again.”

A shaking rattled through his chest, his head was thrown back in delight. The sound of his beautiful laugh rippling through the air and disturbing the silence sounded.

“I’m glad then, go to sleep baby. It’s late and you need to get your well deserved beauty sleep.” The last words of Yn’s boyfriends were slurred in a mush of letters.

A light kiss was placed on their forehead, an insider sign that they would use as a sign to protect, take care and love their partner.

Light snores echoed against the bedroom’s walls, a bundle of arms and legs tingled together on the bed. Changbin knew that he had found the one whose mood would change for the better with just one hug. Who he would propose to very soon, whom he will live and cherish for as long as he breathes.

As long as he breathes, he’d give them all his love and care. His warm arms and middle to use as a very own teddy bear.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #changbin fluff #seo changbin #skz oneshots

39 notes · View notes

sunstone-smiles · 1 month

Text

Setting the Screen to Smile

Author's note: *Kicks down the door like Mimzy* IT’S ME! I’m back with another fic! Tumblr pulled me into the Hazbin Hotel fandom and somewhere down the line my liking for the TV man, Vox, grew even bigger. This fic includes my Hazbin OC Vicky (a pink, anthropomorphic wyvern with rotary phone features) and is based off of this drawing I did with them. I hope you all enjoy!

Series: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Vox and Vicky (OC - Reference here!)

Word count: 2,496

Summary: Vox feels like the work day was a total waste of time, so Vicky takes it upon herself to attempt to cheer up the TV demon—with a little laughter. Enjoy!

---

Vicky knew something was off when she walked into V Tower. Demons on the production crew are speed walking across hallways and weaving in and out of rooms like it’s high traffic time. Usually it’s not as cluttered, nor is it as chaotic, especially when work is supposed to be winding down for the day. Vicky makes her way to the main elevator, dodging a demon that comes rushing out and apologizing for almost crashing into her. If all of this is going on downstairs…she wonders how Vox is dealing with the commotion.

The elevator drops her off on the top floor and she opens the door to the lounge area. When she looks into the room, her question is answered. The message of the pandemonium downstairs has traveled up the floors to reach the boss himself.

She sees Vox pacing around the empty room, talking with a phone held to the side of his head. He comes to an abrupt stop, his back turned towards the door, unaware of Vicky’s presence as he faces the glass windows like a large screen.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Vox says to the phone, “I no longer need the truck of equipment to come tomorrow, I need it for the day after tomorrow.” Vox pauses. The overlord rolls his eyes. “Yes, in two days from now.”

Vox shouts, “What?! You’re not available that day!?” He puts a hand to his face like he’s rubbing out a headache and takes a deep breath before growling out an exhale. “Alright alright. Let’s reschedule it for exactly a week from today. Same time. Same place, but I want the truck here, on time, and not a minute late! Good?”

He waits for a confirmation.

“Great.” He pulls the phone from his head and ends the call, letting out another growling sigh. He grumbles to himself as he turns around, only then perking his head up when he notices the pink anthropomorphic wyvern near the doorway.

“Oh, Vicky,” Vox’s expression visibly changes to one of comfort. The tension in his voice eases to become softer. “I didn’t hear you come in. How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough for me to hear the tail end of that conversation…” Vicky steps forward. “Is everything okay? Things seem to be a bit…disorganized.”

“That’s because they are,” Vox moves towards the sofa. “Somehow we lost all the film for a commercial that was shot today, so Velvette and I have been trying to find it all day with no results. Because the film is lost, we have to reshoot it, meaning we’re going to be a day behind schedule. And on top of that, viewer ratings are five percent down, which the commercial was supposed to help, but now it can’t, which doesn’t seem like a lot but it could add up if viewers are moving to you know who’s radio show,” Vox’s tone turns a prickly static near the last part as he fumes with annoyance at the circumstances. He calms himself, “We’ve been scrambling to reorganize things, so overall, this entire day has been an unproductive waste of time.”

Vox’s phone suddenly rings. He looks at the device, then holds the phone up to show Vicky that the name “Velvette” is across his phone screen.

“Speak of the devil.” Beep. He answers the call. “Any luck?” He waits for the other end to reply.

“It’s not there either?” Vox shouts into the phone, slowly losing more patience at the situation. “Try checking the file room. That’s the last place I can think of.” He walks towards the front of the sofa and waits for a response. No answer.

“Velvette? Hello? Hello?!” He pulls his phone away from his head. The screen is completely dark with a flashing battery icon housing a singular red bar.

He snarls at the device, then throws his hands up in an aggravating loss. “Great! Great! The battery’s dead!” He tosses his phone on the coffee table and plops onto the sofa, sprawling out horizontally with his head leaning back on the arm of the couch and his legs thrown over the other. He cups his hands over the face of his screen in utter defeat and mutters curses at the ceiling.

“Oh Vox, darling…” Vicky moves around to the front of the sofa with sympathy in her diamond-shaped eyes. Vox peeks at her in between his claws and Vicky motions her hands for him to make room for her. Vox pulls his legs to the floor so Vicky can sit next to his side, then he lifts his legs back up and plops them into her lap. “I don’t like seeing you worked up like this,” she says, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Vox drapes an arm over his eyes. “If you can find the film, that would be great. Other than that, there’s no other way to help.” Vox’s words drift off, as if he’s lost all the energy in his system.

Vicky sighs through her nose. She gently pats Vox on the stomach, then scans around the room, trying to get an idea of how to cheer him up. Maybe watching TV or a movie? No, bad idea. That will remind him of work. Maybe she could try her hand at finding the missing film? No, that might stress him out more, especially if it still turns out missing.

Again, Vicky exhales through her snout. She glances at Vox’s face, unsmiling, low-spirited, tired. It tears at her heart to see Vox’s this way. Out of ideas, she hangs her head down, staring at her claws resting on Vox’s stomach.

But only a second passes before Vicky blinks in realization. She picks up her head with a new plan. The answer is right in front of her.

“Actually,” her wyvern snout puts on a smirk, “there’s one other way that you’re forgetting.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” Vox slowly lifts his heavy head. Suddenly, he jolts forward like he was zapped with electricity. His arms wrap around where his stomach was poked and his eyes shoot open to see Vicky’s claws hovering over his belly. He glances upwards to meet Vicky’s smug look peering right at him.

Vox slowly starts crawling backwards with a nervous smile on his face. “Now now, Vicky dear-”

But Vicky lunges her claws at him with playful intent, tackling him to the cushions and getting a ticklish hit at Vox’s sides. He yelps from surprise, then wrestles her hands away while giggles slip from his mouth at the mere thought of her tickling him silly.

“Vicky!” Vox calls out. He jumps back from another poke that strikes him in the side. “Wahait! Darl–ING!” the overlord’s words leap with laughter when Vicky finally finds an opening to claw at his side.

With his defenses quickly crumbling with laughter, Vox crawls back and reaches the arm of the sofa. He props himself up into a sitting position, then, with the newfound leverage, Vox launches himself forwards towards the opposite end of the couch, but Vicky wraps her wings around him, catching him and nearly toppling off the side of the furniture with him.

“Oh no you don’t!” Vicky squeezes his waist, causing Vox to reel back into her arms with another fit of giggles. She then tosses him back over her lap and starts a full on tickle attack, maneuvering her claws around the flailing limbs of the giggling overlord. “You’re not going anywhere until we get you out of this rut!”

Vox wraps his arms across his body in an attempt to guard his torso. “Sohoho this is your genius plan to get me to stohohop moping?!” He curls in on himself a little from a tickly swipe at his belly.

Vicky glares down at him with a lighthearted glint in her gaze. “Are you trying to antagonize me? In your position? Doing that will only get an extra tickle,” she mischievously slides her claws upwards to dig into his ribs. Vox throws his head back with a squeal-like cackle and reflexively clamps arms to his sides. He tightens his arms around his torso and kicks his legs out above the seat cushions.

“I didn’t mehehean–!” the rest of his words for that sentence are overpowered by his laughter pouring past his fangs, “Vickyhehehehe!” He tilts his head towards the cushions, as if he was trying to hide the adorable expression on his face.

Vox could easily turn into electricity and zap himself off the sofa if he wanted to escape, but Vicky knows that the big giggly smile on his face, although he’ll be stubborn to admit it, is also in part because the TV demon is having fun.

Vicky giggles alongside Vox. “Oh my, it looks like I accidentally set the TV’s audio to giggle mode,” she teases.

“I dohoho NOT have a giggle modehehehe!” Vox denies with a faint blush forming on the pixels of his screen.

“Really? Then what do these buttons do?” Vicky uses a single claw to scribble and poke around Vox’s torso, causing Vox to let out a stream of giggles each time she moves her claw to “test” a new spot.

Vicky chuckles again at Vox’s reaction. All of a sudden, the phone-shaped end of her tail and her horns vibrate with a bell-like RING. Vicky halts from the surprise, realizing she’s getting a call.

“One moment, darling,” Vicky stops her tickle attack on Vox. He uses the free time to catch his breath as he sinks back into the couch.

Vicky clicks the phone-end of her tail in place between the spines on the side of her face, then she places the phone to her ear. “Hello? Oh! Hello Velvette!”

Vox lifts his head forward. “Velvette?!” he exclaims in surprise. He nearly forgot that his phone cut them off in the middle of their conversation. “Let me talk to her.”

Vicky gives him a disapproving look. Vox sits up, but Vicky leans back when he tries to reach for her tail phone. Narrowing his eyes at her, Vox tries again and again to swipe for the phone. Vicky dodges out of the way every time. When Vox stretches to extend his reach, she puts a hand to his chest to keep his distance from the phone as he continues to swipe away at it.

“Yeah, I get it,” Vicky responds to Velvette’s comments on the phone, partly distracted with Vox’s persistence. In an attempt to shove him away, Vicky uses her free hand to ticklishly jab at his belly. Vox clamps his arms around himself, losing his balance and toppling over onto the couch.

With a low growl, Vox sits back on his arms. He lunges himself at Vicky, nearly knocking her over and trying to crawl around her to reach her tail while Vicky holds him back.

“Give me the phone!” Vox whispers, only loud enough for Vicky to hear.

Having enough of his stubbornness, Vicky thrusts both sets of her claws to scribble into his waist. The overlord reels back with a giggly yelp and slaps his hands across the mouth of his screen, having a feeling that he was probably audible enough for the phone to pick up the sound. He flops back on the couch, trying (poorly) to hold in his giggles as Vicky shoots a glare at him while scribbling across his sides, belly, and ribs. His snickers sound like the crackling static of a TV screen when no signal is found. His heels dig at the cushions, as if moving his legs will help deter the surge of tickles coursing through his upper half.

With Vox’s attempts to steal the phone thwarted, Vicky returns her attention to the call. “What was that again, Velvette? Ah, yes. Vox’s phone died and he hasn’t charged it yet. That’s why you couldn’t get a hold of him.” She waits for a response.

“Yeah, he’s here with me, but he’s currently undergoing Vicky’s foolproof stress relief program. You know how it goes.” She smiles over at Vox—who’s still snickering audibly through his bared fangs with a hand covering half of his smile to prevent himself from exploding with laughter.

Vicky pulls the phone away from her face for a moment, “Darling, I'm on the phone. Please, try to keep your voice down,” she teases him. The gates of Vox’s laughter nearly burst right there and then.

There’s an understanding giggle on the other end of the phone from Velvette. Afterwards, she gets back as to why she called in the first place. Vicky moves her claws away and gives Vox a break. An exhale of relief seeps between Vox’s previously clenched fangs.

“Sure, I can give him the message,” Vicky responds to the phone. Seconds pass as Vicky receives Velvette’s follow up. “Alright I’ll let him know. Thanks, Velvette.” Vicky clicks the phone to her spines again to end the call. Immediately after, she dives her claws into the ribs of an unsuspecting Vox.

“HEY!” he jumps, “Whahahat is this fohohohor?!”

“Punishment. You think it’s funny to disrupt me while I’m on the phone?” she asks lightheartedly.

“Buhuhut the call was for mehehehe!”

“Hmm, fair enough,” Vicky pulls her claws away, providing a soft smile as she does so. Vox is given a chance to breathe before Vicky informs him of the call.

“So do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Vox perks up, “There’s good news?”

“Mmhm,” Vicky nods. “I’ll save the good news last then. The bad news is that Velvette still couldn’t find the film.”

Vox’s antennas droop. “Figures…”

“But the good news is that a deadline for one of the other projects got extended, meaning now you’re not as behind schedule as you thought you once were and you can make up for the lost time.”

“Well,” Vox eases a little, “at least that’s something.”

“See, fortunately things worked themselves out this time around.” Vicky leans over and kisses his forehead. Then, she pats his shoulder. “Now you don’t have to worry as much.”

Vox takes Vicky’s hand in his and gazes up at her. A smile, softly curled like a wave, forms across his screen. It’s a unique smile, unlike the ones he has to falsely flash in front of the press. It’s one that’s genuine, relaxed, and grateful. It’s a smile that warms Vicky’s heart, seeing him this way.

Vox puts his arm behind his head and leans back on it, “I guess the day wasn’t completely unproductive then.”

“I agree,” Vicky nods. “You definitely produced an abundance of laughter, my giggly TV.”

Vox scoffs with a lingering grin, “I wasn’t that ‘giggly.’”

Vicky chuckles, taking in the joy of the moment in contrast to the chaos she witnessed earlier. “I beg to differ.” She looks at Vox with a sparkle in her diamond eyes. “But I’m glad to see you happy again, my darling Vox.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel oc x canon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fic #sfw fanfiction #sfw fanfic #hazbin hotel tickles #hazbin hotel tickle #sfw tickle fic #tickle fic

35 notes · View notes

yukidragon · 4 months

Note

I love to hear more of your headcanons on Bo in Mafia AU! Also what would happen if Bo's puppy doesn't want to be his in that AU?

It's been a while since I touched on the Mafia AU hasn't it? And that was before I created my version of Bo's puppy, Barbie too. This ask does make me wonder how their interaction might go in this AU.

In the main universe, Barbie's attraction towards Bo, at least at the start, was pretty shallow, all things considered. He was more like a fun adult toy that she grew fond of until eventually that fondness grew into genuine love. It's hard to blame her though, since he quite literally is a toy. She pretty much treated him like many people treat AI bots - a fun diversion, but nothing to take seriously. It was only when he forced her to realize that his feelings are just as real as hers that she truly saw him as a person.

Barbie is a self-proclaimed misanthrope. She's not fond of humanity in general. She can't stand noisy places or being in crowds. It takes a while for her to warm up to people, which leaves her with few people she cares about outside of her immediate family. It's also why she's very fierce if someone hurts her family. Fictional relationships were the closest thing she was interested in when it came to romantic or sexual pursuits.

In the Mafia AU, Bo is an actual human being, even if he's got some pretty distinct canine features. More than that, he's a wise guy working for a mafia boss (Jack); not really someone who is safe for normal people to get involved with. Add in Barbie's default mistrust of people, and Bo in this universe is going to have a steep uphill battle to overcome in order to win his puppy's heart.

Since I've started fleshing out the King family more, it would be good to reexamine their roles in this Aphrodesia-influenced AU, don't you think? It'll be especially interesting to consider how they'll react to Alice being kidnapped by a human trafficking ring, and the scars that incident left behind on her when she finally sees them again.

Content warnings: this post will contain mentions of violence, torture, human trafficking, SA, drugs, and sex. Overall I'll try to keep any uncomfortable descriptions to a minimum, and ramp up the spice where I can. Remember, Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack, DachaBo, and Aphrodesia are all stories for Adults Only. NSFW elements will be touched on!

Traffic Stop

The broad strokes of the AU are basically the same as from the first post. Alice and her family originally lived a normal, happy life, far and away from the crime-invested city of St. Valen's. She and Ian grew up as childhood friends. Things seemed to be going down the same route it did in the regular universe, with puppy love developing between them that might turn into something more.

The divergence happened when they were both still in high school. There was a person going around their school, looking for acting talent. It was somewhat shady. Alice wasn't sure about going, but Ian wanted, no, needed to seize the opportunity to achieve his dream. The talent scout remarked that he had a nice face, both of them did. They would go far. They just had to audition.

It was flattery that Ian couldn't resist.

Of course Ian's mom wasn't going to let him do such a thing, so they had to sneak out. Ian didn't want to risk his mom finding out from her parents, so he convinced Alice to lie to her parents that they'd be out with friends.

As you might suspect already, this audition was a trap sprung by human traffickers. They pick young and vulnerable people who look like they can't fight back, lure them someplace isolated, nab them, and ship them off someplace to be sold for, well, less than savory purposes. While initially both of them were caught in the trap, Alice managed to help Ian escape.

Ian's greatest regret was that he ran away, that he didn't stay to rescue Alice like she did him. Even though she told him to run, to get help, Ian still felt like a coward. It was made worse when by the time he returned with authorities, the traffickers were already gone.

Needless to say, this incident still haunts Ian to the present day, crushing him under the weight of his guilt.

This incident replaces the cheating Ian does in the main universe, and Alice being trafficked replaces the SA incident she went through. While Alice mercifully didn't get SA'd during the trafficking, she was a victim of a "red room" after being taken and sold in St. Valen's. A "red room," for those unaware, is a type of livestream on the dark web, where innocent victims are tortured according to an audience's bids.

I won't go into detail about all the horrors Alice experienced, since the scars speak for themselves. Fortunately, she managed to be clever and lucky enough to escape. Luckier still, she managed to stumble into a member of the Sunny Family, and said family just happened to have a vendetta against the gang that was behind the trafficking.

St. Valens is full of people who showed up out of nowhere, and others who don't ask or care where they came from. There's plenty of corruption, people looking the other way, and shady deals going on. The Sunny Family might be relatively better than most crime families, but at the end of the day, they're pretty shady. They helped her out by rescuing her, even paying her hospital bills and taking her under their wing, so now she owed them.

Alice could contact her family, have them pay back her hefty debt... or she, now an 18 year old adult, could do some favors for the family. Her medical bills were insane - St. Valen's isn't exactly kind to the less fortunate when it comes to medical care - it would bankrupt her family.

It was a classic hustle, presenting a vulnerable person like Alice with potentially devastating consequences, or an out by someone who is wearing a kind and smiling face. I'm inclined to have that representative of kindness from the family be Mama Shine, who was so kind and empathetic, just wanting to help Alice after she went through so much. Working for them wouldn't be that big a deal, especially since they were the ones who rescued her and all the other trafficking victims...

That's the classic Sunny Family con. They smile, act kind, extend their gloved hands to help, offering salvation to poor souls down on their luck. They are then indebted to the family. They need the family. Alice needed a prescription of drugs that they could give to her regularly for all her pain, far cheaper than the healthcare system would.

Shine had taken an interest in Alice, helping her while she was rehabilitated in the hospital. She could've been the one who Alice ran into that night when bloody and desperate for help. Shine is so caring, just like Alice's mother, having that same warm motherly aura. So trustworthy and kind...

It was a far less violent trap that ensnared Alice a second time into this world of crime, but this time she didn't realize the cage was around her, or that she couldn't leave it, until she was in far, far too deep. Her vulnerability was exploited, and she signed a contract that she shouldn't.

The King family were so relieved when Alice finally contacted them... but confused when she told them she couldn't go home. She was receiving medical treatment and needed to stay in the city, and she had debts to pay...

Naturally, her family isn't going to take this without a fight. The King family immediately took a road trip to St. Valen's to see Alice at the hospital.

Lycoris is a fierce mama bear, and she was enraged when Alice was kidnapped, doing everything in her power to find her baby. So despite Shine acting kind and friendly, she was ready to throw down from the word go. Lycoris is a small lady, but she can be very scary, though, sadly, not as scary as an entire crime family.

None of the King family were happy with what had happened to Alice, the debt she had to repay, or that she had already signed a deceptively scary contract. However, the Sunny Family is the most dangerous crime family in the city for a reason, and the King family were in over their heads.

Not that the King family knew they were facing a crime family. The Sunny Family has a reputation to uphold after all. They're a family-run business. Many details were left out or unspoken, all to hide what was really going on behind their squeaky clean image.

The King family did involve the legal system, but that was a failure. The Sunny Family owns the police in St. Valen's. The police just informed them that everything was legal, Alice is an adult who can make her own choices, and there's no better family to work for than the Sunny Family. Plus, Alice was going to need the drug they provided for the rest of her life, so wasn't this a sweet deal anyway? They should just feel grateful that she was rescued. Not a lot of trafficked teens are...

In the end, the King family was powerless, and Alice became a member of the Sunny Family with a debt that seemed never ending.

Barbie vs the World

Needless to say, Barbie was pretty much spitting nails about the whole thing. Even if the Sunny Family was putting on a smiling face and rescued her older sister, so generously providing Alice with needed medical treatment for the foreseeable future, she raged against the entire situation. Unfortunately, being a teen younger than 18 at the time, she was left with a feeling helpless and frustrated. She raged at her parents for "giving up" on bringing Alice home safely even though they didn't have a choice.

Naturally, with Barbie not being the biggest fan of the Sunny Family, she's going to be wary of anyone working for them. Bo has quite the reputation in the city of St. Valens as their enforcer, so he's got quite a steep uphill climb to take if he wants to earn his puppy's love.

Barbie was already the type to play fast and loose with laws, and this entire affair killed all faith she had in the justice system. In the main universe, she's a programmer and hacker. In this universe, she focused more on the hacking aspect. She snuck behind her parents' back, doing very illegal things online to get more money to pay back the debt to the Sunny Family and free her big sister.

So, years later, while Alice gained experience in the Sunny Family as a sniper, Barbie became a skilled hacker, going by many aliases online. By her early/mid-twenties, she used a particular handle when making things difficult for the Sunny Family - Clown Killer. She became quite notorious among the Sunny Family, and a thorn in their side online.

Of course, Barbie had to prioritize not getting caught above any victory. If the Sunny Family knew that she was the one making things hard for them, it would put Alice in danger. Her primary focus with her hacking and other shady dealings online was to get money to repay the debt, but whenever they would just miss repaying the full amount, or something else tacked onto it to keep Alice in that debt, Barbie couldn't help but want to vent her frustrations as Clown Killer.

Barbie has learned quite a lot about the members of the Sunny Family, but could never quite gather enough evidence that would convict any of its bigger members. Their reputation was so squeaky clean. She especially had an axe to grind against Shine, who never once lost that "sweet and gentle" motherly aura while making it clear to her all those years ago that Alice wouldn't be coming home. She knew behind that sweet smile was a ruthless criminal, but she could never peel back that smiling mask to expose the truth.

The King parents are trying all they can to help Alice, saving up money on their side. They visit the city as often as they can to see her and offer support. If one of them could've taken her place, they would, but with Alice needing regular medical treatment from the city, and Shine taking a shine to her in particular... she was going to be stuck in the city no matter what.

Plus, there are other children in the King family who needed their parents too, Coraline especially. She also needed medical treatments... treatment that the Sunny Family offered to provide. In spite of the protests of her parents about adding to the debt, Alice wanted to help her little sister. Besides, the Sunny Family were treating her well... right?

Well, Alice insisted they did. Her family was already worried enough without knowing how how her job's "duties" slowly became a bit more involved over time, a bit more violent, and a lot more bloody.

Barbie did learn of some of the things Alice was hiding from them because of her hacking, and it infuriated her that her big sis was hiding secrets now too. Their parents told her to not worry about the debt, that it wasn't her responsibility, but fuck that! It's not Alice's responsibility either! She was the victim in all of this! The Sunny Family aren't a wholesome family running businesses, they're manipulative criminals, and Barbie is going to destroy them!

Although Barbie spends much of her time as a recluse, she does visit Alice in St. Valen's from time to time. It's how she crossed paths with a certain dog that the Sunny Family keeps on a tight leash.

The Sunny Family's Hunting Dog

As mentioned before, Bo is working for the Sunny Family as Jack's right hand man. He's an enforcer who enjoys his job. He especially enjoys the thrill of the chase, hunting down a target before brutalizing them up close and personal with his fists and fangs. Of course, he also knows how to handle a gun as well as a few other weapons. He also knows some unconventional means to torture someone if need be.

Bo has excellent hacking skills of his own, as a nod to his AI counterpart in the main universe, but he prefers to get hands on with his target whenever possible. He's aware of the hacker Clown Killer that's giving the Sunny Family some headaches, but they always evade his attempts to catch them in cyberspace, much to his frustration. They become something of a rival, his white whale that he's eager to conquer once and for all.

Not only does Bo have a lust for violence, he's also a very, very horny dog. He has slept around quite a lot, though his relationships never last. He never quite connects with anyone. He gets mistaken for only having a talent for senseless violence, the dumb muscle of the gang who is also is some good eye candy, when he's a lot smarter than his wild behavior might imply. There's a reason why he's Jack's second in command after all...

Alice intrigues Bo, simply because of how Jack is practically obsessed with her. In many ways, Jack is a rival of Bo's, being his "master" who he wants to one day be free of. Seeing Jack bend over backwards to win the heart of just some random sucker who got sweet talked into debt confuses the hell out of him. He wants to know what it is about Alice that draws Jack in... and if he can use that to his advantage.

Alice isn't a fan of Bo's constant teasing, and she hates the nickname of "squeaky toy" that he uses for her. It's in reference to how he loves to sneak up on her and startle her, causing her to squeak in surprise. Bo is really good at sneaking up on his prey, so her reaction is pretty fun.

Still, no matter how many times Bo pops in on Alice unexpectedly, he doesn't quite see what draws Jack in. Sure, she's surprisingly soft despite this hard life of crime, which is a novelty, but it's not something special. She's attractive, sure, but there's plenty just as attractive as her, if not more. He wants to dig deeper, interrogate her more, maybe even seduce her, but whenever he pushes just a little too far, Jack pulls on his metaphorical leash. Hard.

The intrigue keeps Bo coming back to ruffle Alice's feathers despite the risk. It's also why he suddenly pops up at Alice's place while Barbie is visiting one day.

Barbie is surprisingly tall compared to Alice, but Bo can see and smell the family blood between them. She's got these eyes that stand out - both of them blue and brown at the same time. She also has this cutting stare like she wants to carve open his guts. It's actually hilarious that a powderpuff from the suburbs could think she has a chance at even leaving a scratch on an alpha like him. It intrigues him enough to have a little fun teasing her as well.

Barbie shuts down Bo's flirting instantly. It trips him up a bit, as Bo knows he's a good looking guy. He's not used to being turned down in such a harsh manner, especially by someone as powerless as a puppy. He'd be offended if it wasn't so ridiculous.

When Barbie learns that Bo works with Alice, and as such is part of the Sunny Family, her dislike turns into outright hostility. She's not even hiding it either, though Alice rushes in to keep the conversation more or less civil.

After leaving the apartment, Bo decided to case the place until Barbie left. He wanted to tease her a little, scare this spoiled little pampered suburban pet before she barks at someone big and nasty who is more than ready to bite back. Despite his attempts to intimidate her, Barbie didn't even flinch, even when he made a subtle threat, just to see how she would react. Not even that shook her resolve. In fact, she warned him that if he hurt Alice, hell would feel like a sunny vacation spot compared to what she would do to Bo and the rest of the damned Sunny Family.

The threat tickled Bo instead of intimidating him, and Barbie fumed at the way he laughed her off.

It was in that exchange that Bo found himself a new toy to tease. He called Barbie puppy whenever he encountered her. She barked big, but she had no idea just how tiny and helpless she really was compared to him in his eyes. It was cute really, and he found great delight in teasing her.

However, though Bo was amused by their banter, Barbie was anything but. His teasing just made her hate him all the more.

A Hungry Dog

Over time Bo's attraction towards Barbie grows. He stops flirting with Alice, though he still teases her, mostly to learn more about Barbie and how he might win Barbie over. He feels less satisfied with the people he sleeps around with, thinking of Barbie more. He even starts imagining that it's her he's sleeping with, which kills the moment for him and leaves him feeling unfulfilled and horny.

At some point during this, Bo finds out the identity of the infamous Clown Killer. It's surprising, but so fitting that he can't help but laugh when he realizes it's none other than his puppy. My, my, such a naughty puppy too, getting up to so much mischief. It'd be a shame to let anyone else know. Then he wouldn't be able to play with her more.

It's that realization that his greatest rival is the woman who has been intriguing him that turns his attraction into downright obsession. Bo wants to conquer Barbie in every sense of the word, tame this wild puppy and make her whimper and beg for his loving touch.

Bo has obscene fantasies about the various ways he can conquer and tame Barbie. It's the more extreme side of the lines from the game, where he wants her on his leash, to be at his beck and call, ready for him whenever he wants her. (Which quickly becomes all the time, really. The man is so horny he makes Jack seem reserved.) He wants her always by his side, in his lap, hot and whining for him, begging him to take her in every one of her pretty little holes like the dirty puppy he knows that she really is. He wants to make her see that she's powerless before him and beg him to take her, to protect her. Only he can have her.

Unfortunately for Bo, Barbie isn't someone who is turned on by a self-proclaimed alpha asshole who teases her just because he's good looking and desires her. Every time he tries to proposition her or seduce her, he gets rejected, much to his increasing frustration.

It brings out Bo's yandere side more and more. He tries different schemes to win Barbie over. He would use his power and influence to impress her, make her see how much he can provide for her. He tries to show off how good looking he is, entice her to at least want his body if nothing else.

Barbie doesn't want any of it. She knows there are strings attached to anything Bo offers her. The only thing she wants is for the Sunny Family to let Alice go and never, ever bother her or the rest of their family ever again.

Sadly, that's the one thing Bo can't influence with his pull, even if he was willing to let Barbie go. Jack isn't ever going to let Alice go. Worse, he can't even pretend he's going to try and separate them, not when Alice starts dating Jack.

Barbie doesn't buy that Alice is happy with Jack. She doesn't buy Jack's super nice and generous millionaire sweetheart from a sappy romance novel schtick. After everything she's gone through to save her sister from that damn Sunny Family, there's no way Barbie is just letting Alice stay with them.

Jack is just another smiling liar, just like his mother Shine who talked Alice into signing that contract in the first place.

Bo can use this hatred for Jack though. He can try to show Barbie that he's on her side, that while he works for Jack, that doesn't mean he wants to stay a part of the Sunny Family.

In spite of Barbie's hatred, she did have encounters with Bo where he showed his softer side. St. Valen's is a dangerous place, especially for someone who has never killed before. Barbie resents being in Bo's debt even as she's grateful when he saves her life. Bo had Barbie squares away this debt with dates, which she very reluctantly accepted with the stipulation that he never touches her unless she explicitly gives him permission.

On these dates, Bo tries taking a play from Jack's book and acting more polite, more gentle with Barbie. It doesn't win her over, since she doesn't trust it, but she's not as openly hostile. Barbie also uses these dates as an attempt to sneak info on the sly that she could use against the family. It's kind of cute to Bo, that she thinks she's so slick, but she's a lot better at hiding her real motives online than she is in person. She has such a lousy poker face.

But it's cute too that she doesn't hide her real feelings. The more time Bo spends with Barbie, the more he wants her. Her scent is so appealing, so delicious. He wants to nibble on her skin, or at least get just a little lick. It's almost like she was made to drive him crazy. She's so fierce, so loyal to her family, and so in over his head. The small moments that he gets in past her walls where she softens to him, just a little, oh that makes his hope burn brighter, hotter.

Still, for every step closer he takes, something seems to pull them apart again. Usually that something is Bo and the criminal life he lives with the Sunny Family.

Puppy Love

Before Bo realizes it, he is helplessly in love, completely obsessed. It's Jack who infuriatingly points out to him that Barbie has become his weakness. Despite Bo insistence on being a lone wolf that doesn't need anybody, he is desperate to make Barbie, that grumpy barking puppy, his mate.

Which works in Jack's favor. After all, if Alice's family gets closer to his family, then she won't ever want to leave. He can also have Bo indebted to him for helping Bo win over the untamed heart of Barbie.

Barbie isn't going to make it easy for Bo, even with Jack's help. Like Alice, Barbie is on the aroace spectrum. She has to trust Bo in order to start developing real feelings for him, and it's going to take a lot of effort to get her to trust him.

Also, Barbie is the type to take charge. In the main universe, she's the one who holds Bo's leash. He might be the alpha dog, but he bows down at her feet. I imagine until she can feel secure in her dominance over Bo and trust that his love for her is stronger than his allegiance to the Sunny Family, she's not going to feel anything remotely close to attraction when it comes to him.

Still, Barbie and Bo are one of my ships, and it'd be a shame if they didn't eventually sail, even in this darker AU. It's just going to be a very slow burn.

It'll burn even slower if Bo gives in to his frustration and yandere impulses to force his puppy to stay with him. Only by rolling over and showing his soft belly will he stand a chance of seeing Barbie's softer side as well.

A bad end to their storyline would no doubt be Bo forcing Barbie to be his, through blackmail, debt, or both. Even in that situation, she wouldn't simply just submit. Trying to overpower her isn't going to win Barbie's love. Instead it'll just make her bear her fangs and fight back even more. The harder he forces her, the more desperately she fights, and the closer he pushes them both to their mutual destruction.

Of course, I'm a sucker for happy endings. So while Barbie isn't going to make it easy for Bo, I do like the idea that in spite of everything, Bo manages to slowly show her there's more to him than a blood-thirsty, horny killer. He's someone who loves deeply, is loyal, and would do anything to please her. His love for her is more real and pure than anything else he found in the city of St. Valen's, and despite all his dreams of becoming top dog, there's nothing he wants more than to be loved by his puppy.

Bo might hate to be on a leash, but he'll find it's not so bad when Barbie is the one holding onto it instead of Jack. In fact, when she's confidently in charge, she'll be a lot more inclined to reward her big bad alpha dog with some treats.

Oh, and naturally, Bo wouldn't be Bo without his breeding/seeding fetish. Once he and Barbie finally get together, he's going to want to knock her up immediately with his pups. He never gave serious thought about having kids before, but that's only because he never found someone he wanted as his mate before. He really hopes the pups his puppy gives him will have her pretty heterochromatic eyes.

I think we can wrap things up there for now. I hope you enjoyed another visit to this multi-crossover mafia AU. Let me know if you want to hear even more about this AU or any of my other story ideas and characters.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #DachaBo #Aphrodesia #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #My Art #Mafia AU

49 notes · View notes

mollyjimbly · 1 year

Text

CONSEQUENCES OF THE EARN IT ACT

It will be functionally illegal to discuss sexual and GRSM issues

Opens the door to law enforcement monitoring Internet traffic, which means that more moderation will be legally enforced in the future, including censoring of other religions, ethnic groups, or speech against the EARN IT committee and its affiliated parties

US based companies such as Google may be forced to remove GRSM and other non-harmful sexual content from their search engine thus decreasing visibility by a significant amount

YouTube, owned by Alphabet Inc., parent company of Google, will also be forced to remove or terminate existing channels resulting in many well-known content creators being forced to cancel uploading entirely

A brief example would be Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss by Vivienne Medrano and Spindlehorse.

Simply mentioning or referencing any form of "sexual" content, no matter how tame, will be risking termination à la Disney

Many subreddits, from r/lgbt to r/femboy, and r/thelastofus to r/undertale, will be censored or removed completely under grounds of featuring GRSM characters

WhatsApp, owned by Meta, an American company, will now be forced to disable end-to-end encryption or backdoor communications for law enforcement.

Discord will be forced to remove NSFW channel functionality and messages will be scanned for illegal material.

Other non-social-media websites, such as CNN will be prevented from reporting on sexual abuse cases

And to top it all off, perhaps the most significant change will be the complete whitewashing of Wikipedia, which will be forced to remove many wiki pages of content documenting genuine SA case studies, information on safe sex, the biology of contraception and possibly even the anatomy of the human reproductive system.

#stop earn it act #anti earn it #earn it #earn it bill #stop internet censorship #fuck earn it #fuck internet censorship #pro encryption #encryption #pro privacy

161 notes · View notes

shuttershocky · 3 months

Note

Got any tips for using Ho'olheyak?

Using Ho'olheyak is about not comparing her to Eyjafjalla and Ceobe's damage output and accepting she's a strange utility unit in a traditionally DPS class.

S1 gets its SP cost lowered at M1 to 7 seconds, and it's an okay AFK skill if it only hits one enemy at a time. It's unfortunate there isn't that many levitate-boosting relics in IS, because otherwise it would be an okay Spinach skill.

For S2 (which is actually not bad imo), you want Ho'olheyak to be in low traffic lanes. Her multishot fires randomly like Amiya's S2, so the fewer targets there are to spread RNG around, the more effective the skill will be. The lift time is so short at 1 second (which gets halved to 0.5 against heavy enemies) and the chance at 15% is low enough that it's not reliable to use it as a levitate for anti-air combos. Rather, think of S2's levitate like a minor stun to interrupt enemies and to let Ho'ol apply her silence.

For S3, its best feature is that it extends Ho'ol's range like an Artillery Sniper. Its DPS is pretty meh since it slows Ho'ol's ATK interval to 3 seconds, but her long reach, 2 second lift (it's 2.2 at S3M3, but as an S3M3 Ho'ol owner I say don't do it the gains are fucking puny), and silence can make enemy traversal on certain maps hellish if they're also being pelted with slows. Trapmasters can also place traps underneath levitated enemies, so the likes of Dorothy's S2 can be paired with Ho'ol S3 for some fun bullying. Due to the slow speed of her tornado projectile, it is possible for them to miss the original target enemy if they run fast enough, but it's also possible for them to hit an enemy Ho'ol originally wasn't aiming at since she also fires them as a wave rather than as a single attack.

Ho'ol's ideal maps are ones where range tile placement makes it difficult for other casters to reach the enemies, and your plan is to apply a lot of crowd control instead of outright killing them with Goldenglow. She's much more niche than Eyja and Ceobe, but from my own experience she performs quite well as a support unit for fun meme comps.

____

This topic might come up when you see that IS4's Boss 2 is vulnerable to getting levitated when it activates its sprint that ignores slows, but it's far easier to use Qanipalaat as your primary crowd control unit rather than Ho'ol. Ho'ol's levitation is either automatic (S1), RNG (s2), or involves a wave of slow-moving projectiles (S3). Qanipalaat's S2 is manually activated, and his levitation time actually matches the duration of the boss' sprint, meaning by the time they crash back down their sprint is over, making Qanipalaat another strange case of a 5 star hard-countering an IS Boss 2's mechanics, similar to Mr Nothing and Erato countering Last Knight.

#Arknights

41 notes · View notes

dozing-composing · 5 months

Note

Ur single handedly keeping the venture bro fanfics alive and honestly I love you for that thank you for all you do ❤️❤️🫡🫡

😭😭😭 I Literally Love Y'all So Much! You Guys Keep Me Going. Every Time I Log On, My Inbox Is Full And My Posts Are Blowing Up. And, We Hit Over 50 Followers! I Did Not Think I'd Get This Far, Much Less With My Previous Milestone Of Over 20. So As A Thank You, I'm Going to Gift Y'all A Little Holiday Special Featuring Our Favorite Henchman. I Hope You All Enjoy, And Of Course... Happy Holidays!

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "(Glittery -Kacey Musgraves, Troye Sivan)" 0:09 ━●────────── 2:47 ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ꜱɪɴɢʟᴇ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ɪꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ɢɪꜰᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

ᴏʜ, ꜱᴏ ɢʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀʏ

Warnings: Vulgar Language, Possibly OOC It's Christmas, and your boyfriend is nervous to give you a gift of a lifetime. ☆GN!Reader

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house A few creatures were stirring, each person arouse The mansion was decorated with garland and tinsel, In hopes that the air was more merry and blissful

...

It came as a surprise when The Mighty Monarch was hosting a Christmas party, albeit a small one consisting of himself, his wife, Gary, and one special soon-to-be guest: you. The whole house was furnished in Christmas decorations, making the place look jolly and bright. Everyone was surrounded by bells, wreaths, ornaments, and more. It was actually Sheila's idea to throw such a festivity. "To bring us closer together," was her reasoning. "And to give us a damn break from all Guild operatives." Still, everyone agreed and took this minute to breathe. All except for Gary, who was stressing beyond something mad. See, he had plans for this one particular person. Someone he's loved since that faithful day they met. He still has that coffee cup sleeve from the first date you both went on. A couple of days before the party (or rather, a small get-together), he had been looking for advice from his boss. Which became a lesson learned to not ask him. "But what if (Y/N) doesn't like it?" "THEN YOU MAKE THEM LIKE IT-" And then he gave the infamous "I'm The Mighty Monarch" speech, ranting that if it were up to him, you would faint on the spot because it was from him. Gary walked out in the middle of it. He then went to ask Sheila, who told him something that really seemed to help. "Listen, Gary. The only reason (Y/N) won't love your gift is if they don't love you." This really stuck with him. And she was right. But, there was still one other thing... What will you say?

...

There was no reason to get nestled and snug in their beds, While thoughts of cheeriness danced in their heads The Monarch in his cloak and Gary in his sweater, Were trying to keep calm and get things together

...

Seconds ticked by, and you had yet to show up. Minutes turned to hours. The night nearly escaped from them. But The Monarch wouldn't allow it. Being fed up by waiting and waiting, he slammed his fists down and arose from his seat. "Fuck this! I'm not going to sit around anymore and wait for someone for this stupid 'party' that isn't even a party to begin with!" He throws his hands up and waves them around as he exits the room. Sheila gets up to follow him. "Sweetie, it's also a big night for Gary. You don't want to support your best and only henchman?!" Her voice fades out as she leaves to catch up to him. Gary sat at the kitchen table, alone with his thoughts once more. The snacks that were laid out appeared to have gone to waste. He sighs and rests his face on his hand. A million thoughts passes through his mind. Maybe you're not ready yet. Maybe you got caught in traffic. Maybe you got caught in the snow. But if that was the case, wouldn't you give him a call? Wouldn't you be letting him know what's making you so late? Maybe this was a huge mistake... No! Despite his frustration, he fights to stay positive. You're just running late. No way would you ditch him. You would jump at the chance to spend time with him. Especially now during the holidays. He just had to give you more time.

...

When out on the street there arose such a clatter, He sprang from his seat to see what was the matter Away to the window he flew like a flash, Threw open the curtains and saw what caused the clash ...

Being so deep in thought caused more time to pass by. Each agonizing thought made the seconds etch by quicker. He was about to give up and call it a night, when all of a sudden... SCREECH! It was a short, but loud sound. A staccato of car tires stopping. Then came the sound of a car door closing. He jumped up and ran to the window. Instantly, he ripped away the curtains to see if it was you. And sure enough, it was! His eyes lit up as he released the curtains and dashed to the door. You couldn't even lift a hand to knock before Gary had swung it open. "(Y/N)!" He reaches out and pulls you in for a great bear hug. You smile, feeling the warmth radiating off him. It fades a little when he pulls away as quick as he pulled you in. "I was starting to think you gave up on us!" You look down in shame. "I.. tried to call but the reception out here is shoddy. I got lost and couldn't get ahold of you," you explain. You look up to see Gary's eyes full of understanding. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean for this to happen." You awkwardly clench at your coat sleeves. "Hey, hey. It's okay! Look-" He eases your hands in his. "I'm glad you made it," his eyes reflected the light outside. It made your heart melt. That's probably your favorite part of him. The way they always seem to reflect the light. Even in darkness, they'll never lose their glimmer. "Come on, it's freezing out here!" He leads you inside and takes your coat. Already, you feel out of place. This is the first time you've ever come out here, and to finally see this gorgeous mansion on the inside made you feel small. "It's beautiful," you whisper. "How come I've never visited you out here?" You turn to him. He shrugs, then rubs the back of his neck. "It's complicated." With that, he takes you and shows you around. Each room is more breathtaking than the last. And thankfully, you're distracted enough to not see how fidgety Gary was getting. Or so he thought. When he led you out to the balcony is when you caught on to his nervousness.

... The moon on the breast of new-fallen snow, Gave the luster of mid-day to to objects below When what to your wondering eyes appear, You boyfriend all shaken and taken by fear ...

"...Are you oka-" "GREAT! I'm great. Are you cold? I should have brought your coat back. I should probab-" "Calm down, Gary. I'm fine," you gently grab his hand. Your turn to lead. You take him to the railing. Letting his hand go, you lean over and look out. He does the same. Snow covers the ground, everything blanketed in white. The sky is surprisingly clear for it to be in the city. You take a glance back at Gary to see he's white-knuckling the rail. Everything about him is suddenly tense. You place a hand on one of his, accidentally startling him. You look at him worriedly. "Gary, something's clearly bothering you. What's the matter?" ... With his brain working overtime and thoughts flying quick, He knew in a moment that this must be it More rapid than eagles this time surely had came, Now here he stood, gift in hand, and asked you by name ...

He takes in a deep breath, then clasps onto your shoulders. "I love you. You know that right?" You cock an eyebrow. "Of course! Why would you ask something like thi-" "Because I love you so much," he starts. "I love the way you smile at the little things. I love that you laugh at anything and everything. You're so sweet, and you're quick to help out whenever you can," his grip on you loosens more after each word falls out his mouth. "Y-you are like, the highlight of my life. You helped me through a lot," his hands travel down your arms to lock with your hands. "We even fought tooth and nail to be with each other." You laugh at the thought. But when you found out he had to move to New York, your heart broke. So you did all you could to maintain a long distance relationship. And you eventually saved up enough to move there, even if you lived in a small apartment. "And most importantly, you loved me for who I was. E-even before my transformation." Your eyes begin to water as you give a slight giggle. You remember the way he first looked, but you didn't care. You loved him for him. His geekiness only added to his attractiveness. "And for the past few years, we've gotten to know each other so well that..." He gets down on one knee. "I wanted to give, er... Ask something special of you," he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket. His heart begins to race. Your hands fly to your mouth and your eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. Your heartbeat matches his. "(Y/N)," he lifts the top of the box to reveal a stunning, sparkling ring. "Will you-" "Yes!" You throw yourself on him and wrap your arms around his neck, almost knocking him over. You both burst into tears. After having a little happy cry fest, you both got up. He then slid the ring on your finger. You both share a much-loving kiss under the stars. The hardest part is over, he thought. ...

They spoke not a word, but went straight to surprise, And opened the balcony door to see their prize And they were happy seeing the two side by side, And were excited to see that you had not denied ...

You both were about to head back inside to warm up, but you were met with the other power couple. "Congratulations!" Dr. Mrs. The monarch walked up to give you a hug. "Now let me see that rock," she lifts your hand up to inspect your ring. All while you two banter, The Monarch shares a few words with his loyal henchman. "I knew you had it in you, you dog!" They exchange their secret handshake, to which makes Mrs. Monarch give them a disappointing look. Everyone starts to head back inside. Everyone except for you. Gary sees you stalling and goes over to see what you were waiting for. "You okay?" It took a moment for you to register that he had said something. "Yeah, I just... had to collect myself," you grasp at your heart. And then there's a small pause. "I'm going to marry the love of my life!" You flap your hands and bounce on your tippy toes. You are just exploding with pure happiness. "Me too!" You share another kiss, holding each other's faces. Then he draws back and rests his forehead against yours. "I guess this means I'm not your boyfriend anymore," he chuckles. "Gary, you're such a dork." "Yeah, but I'm your dork," he boops your nose. After that, you go in to finally party. Thankfully, there was a bottle of champagne that was saved for special occasions such as this. Everyone had their glasses full, and everyone commemorated the newly engaged. "Merry Christmas, my dear," you kiss Gary's cheek. The other two "aww" to this display off affection. Your fiancé's face turns almost as red as the bows arranged on the wreaths. The rest of the night is spent with joy and laughter. You're very excited to be joining the family. ...

Everyone sprang to the inside to celebrate this new chapter, And away they all honor you joining hereafter And there they make a toast, all doused in Christmas light "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" ...

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Again, Thank You All So Much For All The Attention You Give Me. I Cannot Thank You Enough. Much Love To Everyone This Holiday Season! You're All The Best Gift I Could Ever Ask For!

#♡#the venture brothers #the venture bros #venture bros #venture bros x reader #gary fischer #gary fischer x reader #henchman 21 #henchman 21 x reader

29 notes · View notes

planetkiimchi · 10 months

Text

people watching | b.c

no. 4 of my song collection

featuring: producer!chan x ceo!reader, and the rest of stray kids in varying positions in the music industry

word count: 12352

warnings: pg13, quite a bit of swearing, vomit, alcohol, rooftops (?), crying if you don't like that, angst

summary — you’re a hurricane, and chan knows this all too well. you’re the one who crashed into his life on a regular afternoon, bringing him into the middle of an industry he’s always been at the edges of. he would never like to fall in love with his boss, but you’re a lovable tornado, and for all your chaos, both of you still love to sit down and take a break. those who know, call it “people watching”.

playlist. people watching by conan gray ; 18 by one direction ; wolfgang by stray kids ; omg by newjeans ; coping by rosie darling ; dna by lany

a/n: there’s a little bit of … smau hints here. i guess. i’m not really sure what to call it. also, 12.5K words ? that’s so crazy. i wanna thank my beloved @blue-jisungs for beta reading this. i know you had a headache n everything but thank you so so much for your comments n feedback, it def feels so much more polished w your help <3 and as always i hope y'all enjoy!

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

prologue.

Y/N’S MOTHER WAS A MUSICIAN. A few years back, she started up her own business producing records, but after a while the company still wasn't doing that great. As her child, Y/n took an interest in the company and began to start promoting it better.

You found several producers that you enjoyed listening to music from, and with some promotion (and help from your brother Jisung), everything went swimmingly.

By some miracle or other, the company, SFX labels, accidentally went viral on TikTok. You had Jisung to thank for that, because he was the one who had found Seungmin to manage the online presence of the company. People started taking an interest in your company, and you built up your brand on finding indie music makers and making them big.

Jisung also helped to find amateur musicians or producers with potential, and trained them, teaching them how to become better at their craft.

However, over time and as the company grew, you found your position growing more and more mundane. Your work was boring at best, soul-sucking at times, and you found yourself wondering how you went from passionately enjoying your work to the place you were at.

Your mother suggested you take a break, and you decided to wander around "Lonely St.". It was a little alleyway near your old residence, and was so fondly called because it was a narrow street where many beginner indie musicians frequented. Shops that sold music albums and instruments lined the street. Often shaded, the street was safe from crowds and human traffic was low.

When you were younger, you had often gone there with your mum on visits to see the producers and musicians there. While she tried to strike a deal with them, you would busy yourself with the gadgets and music paraphernalia. Some were expensive, but that was just how music was.

Everyone there was friendly and as you grew into your early twenties, you used to go there for inspiration, bringing home your ideas and channeling them into music. Sometimes your mother would help you develop it, leading to the songs stored on your laptop for nostalgia.

Seeking to rekindle your passion for music, you headed over to Lonely St. and went into the second shop, one with posters tacked up on the wall.

The store was silent, but not eerily so. Instead of cobwebs and dust covering the room, it was all colourful band posters and stickers, all the records neatly stacked up in piles. You barely had enough space to walk, but it only felt cozy, and not too crowded at all.

The decor reminded you of a gothy teenager's room, instruments hidden in the corners and the soft humming of a song playing through the speakers, lyrics indiscernible. Among the magazines and albums you found a man hidden deep inside his work, frowning in concentration.

You cleared your throat and he looked up; you recognised him vaguely but didn't dare to ask. It had been years since you had come to the store, surely he wouldn't remember you from his time working there.

He didn't recognise you, nor did he know that you were now the CEO of a music producing company.

He greeted you in a friendly manner, but looked clearly agitated as he wanted to get back to his work. You dismissed him with a wave, telling him to concentrate on his music while you browsed through old records of musicians you had grown up listening to.

Time passed differently in places like that. Secluded, detached from the outer world, it was so easy to get lost in the dusty archives of history. Songs told tales people didn't understand, like a language with familiar sounds, yet indiscernible the more one tried to listen to it.

In liberal spaces like that, with light filtering through the cluttered windows, you barely realised that two hours had passed. The labyrinth of songs had you hooked, and you would have stayed there all day if you could. You picked up an old CD of an album you vividly remembered playing at your eighteenth birthday party, and picked it up to ask if the man could put it on for a bit.

However, he looked engrossed in his work and you didn't want to disturb him. He worried his lip and tilted his head, groaning softly in frustration. Clearly what he was doing wasn't working for him. You didn't want to disturb him; you knew he would be annoyed, but you needed to go home soon.

You carefully placed the CD case in your hand back down; startled by the sound he glanced up suddenly, realising how silent the store was without the rustling sound of you browsing through the endless albums.

"How may I help you?"

You were tempted to ask him to play you his song, but that might be like intruding on a private part of his soul. You would know how it felt.

You fumbled in your purse for a business card. Would that be too odd? To go, "Hey, I run a company, I think your music would be great even if I haven't heard it yet"? Because you somehow had the gut feeling that he would be perfect, and you knew your instincts never failed you.

You shook your head and dismissed those thoughts. You didn’t want to make him feel awkward. Instead, you decided to buy the record, and the man proudly showed you that it had been signed by the singer.

“It’s a little more expensive, though, because of that. That’s why it hasn’t been bought yet,” he told you sheepishly.

“Oh, that’s fine. I don’t mind spending a bit more.”

He clearly expected you to change your mind when he showed you the price, although you knew from experience that signed records tended to sell for much more, so you were already prepared.

It was, after all, a small price to pay for the discovery of the man himself.

HE FREQUENTED YOUR THOUGHTS for the next week. Even buried in work, with papers piling up for you to sign, projects waiting to be approved, people looking to sign with your label, and managers looking to clear the policies on dating for the singers under them, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

The mysterious song producer who made music on the side while he ran a music store along Lonely St. had caught your eye, and was not likely to leave your mind anytime soon.

You really wanted to get to know him better, but you had no time. Besides, people didn’t often go to stores with strangers to buy expensive items. Usually, they would go once they’d established a rapport with the people there. Lonely St. was there for the community, not just the things they sold and the treasure trove of advice and ideas the people harboured.

You tapped your fingers against the table impatiently as someone knocked on your door. You glanced at the clock and sighed. If you could, you would have liked to get off work early, but it was still two hours before your official working hours ended.

“Come in,” you called.

Your assistant, Seungmin, entered the room. Looking around at the mess of papers that lay on your table, he sighed loudly and obviously.

“What?” you asked defensively.

“I sent the papers in neatly, organising them by manager and then group or singer in order of importance and urgency. I even had different stacks of folders for projects, people looking to sign with us, and policy issues. And you just leave them strewn around? You really don’t appreciate my effort, do you?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Sorry, Seungmin. Promise I'll get to filing them away later. I'm just not in the mood right now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this because you have too much work? I heard you went to Lonely St. last week. Was the break too short?”

You nod unhappily. “I really want to go back, I think I stumbled across a real gem there. I saw someone making music and I'd love to hear it, he sounds like he’d be great for our label and I want to know what kind of concept he would fit.”

“But?”

“But he’s a stranger! I daren’t ask, you know how I get about these sorts of things.”

“Hm.” Seungmin looked through his phone, then smiled at you. “Well, I think you’re in luck. Jisung just texted me about going to Lonely St. to ‘run some errands’. He said he’d go with Minho-hyung, but he’s busy with work too. I could fit it in your schedule if you get all of this organised for me to return to everyone who’s waiting for it.”

You nod. “That sounds good. So, is tomorrow too soon?”

“No,” Seungmin said, taking it down. “Enjoy yourself, Y/n-ssi.”

“Thanks, Seungminie.”

SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED where Jisung got his upbeat personality from. Personally, you were a very chill person, and both you and Jisung were introverts, like your mother. Your father was more outgoing, but none of you were particularly high in energy besides Jisung.

It was quite intriguing, you mused to yourself, humming quietly as you waited for Jisung to arrive. You were early, but you couldn’t disguise your excitement. You’d finally get to meet the man again! Hopefully, he would be there and not somewhere else. Many of the shop owners took turns hiring different part-timers looking for a side job to make a bit of money while they sought an agent or company willing to take them.

Fortunately for you, Jisung was a lucky charm. You went with him to pick up a few magazines for him to decorate his room. Ever since he was a teenager, he’d been a collector of photos, and whenever a magazine cover featured his favourite artists, he couldn’t help but to buy it to add it to his collection.

His room was filled with posters and magazines, but somehow it hadn’t turned away any of his friends or lovers.

Once you’d picked up what Jisung wanted, you dragged him by his wrist to the store named ‘St(r)ay Away’. You loved the play on words, and that was what had drawn your mother in as well when you first went there.

Behind the counter was the man you’d been looking for. He was tapping away at his computer, mouth pursed in concentration. He glanced up when the ringing bell sound signalled your entrance, and smiled at both of you, eyes lighting up when he caught sight of Jisung.

“Ah, Jisung, hello! Good to see you again. I see you’ve got new magazine covers?”

Jisung grinned proudly. “Yep! Look, Twice-sunbaenim even did an interview inside! I can’t wait to read it when I get back.”

The man nodded. “And this is…?”

“My sibling, Y/n! they brought me here, actually. Y/n, are you looking for something?”

“You,” you blurted out, staring incredulously at the man. Seriously, what was it with Jisung and his charm? You could never have made friends with someone the way Jisung did.

“Chan?” Jisung asked you, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Ah, nothing. I was just surprised to see him again. I came here last week, and spoke with him when getting my album. I was particularly interested in what song he was arranging.”

“Oh, that. I was just working on a few songs for myself. I'm looking to release them, but I haven’t found anyone to help me with that yet,” Chan explained.

“You know you can always sign with us, hyung.”

“I don’t know if I'd fit your concept. And your label is so big! I might be overshadowed and I wouldn’t like that.”

“Jisung’s right,” you interject. “You’re welcome to sign with us, if you’d like. here’s my business card, in case you’d like to speak with me instead of—” you looked Jisung up and down— “this fool.”

Chan stifled a laugh, taking the card from your hands with a slight bow of his head. “I'll consider it.”

“And send me a song or two! I'd love to listen to what concept you have going on so I can match you with someone who understands your creative vision.”

Chan bowed his head again. “Nice meeting you, Y/n. And thanks for dropping by, Jisung. See y’all next time!”

SEUNGMIN RAPPED IMPATIENTLY on the door. He didn’t even wait for you to invite him in, which was odd because on normal days Seungmin did at least have the manners and the dignity to wait for your reply before barging in. He might have had a tongue that was quick to lash out and a well-hidden sailor’s mouth, but he wasn’t often rude in terms of entering.

“It’s Minho-hyung,” he managed breathlessly. “I had to run up because the lift wasn’t working, but that’s the message I got downstairs. Minho-hyung’s back in town.”

You swiveled around in your chair and raised an eyebrow skeptically, gesturing for Seungmin to sit and catch his breath, all the while humming as you thought about what this could mean.

Minho was your and Jisung’s childhood best friend. You grew up together, and your fathers played music together on the weekends, while you kids got together for a marshmallow-roasting by the fire. You knew everything about Minho that there was to know about him, and one thing about him was that he simply could not settle down.

He had spent five or six years as a dance teacher by now, having started out young. He was always restless, and it had been you who had suggested he go to a dance lesson with you. Ballet had left a terrible impression on him but a couple years later he did pick up contemporary in school.

He later expanded his repertoire to street jazz and hip hop, and more specific skills like popping and waacking. Two years back, Jisung had invited him to join SFX labels as a choreographer, and each one of his dances had outdone the previous one.

But the thing was… Minho never grew out of his restlessness. Even as a young adult, he itched to move about – not just in a physical manner like dancing but on a larger scale, like travelling around. It was lucky for him that he was tall enough and looked good, so you could sign a contract with him as a model under SFX labels. He then had the opportunities to fly around the world and sightsee, all the while earning money and enjoying himself.

It was a really good deal, if you could say so yourself. Perhaps not something that would suit your taste, but to each their own.

Since he had signed on as a model and you stayed in Korea to manage SFX labels, you hadn’t been able to meet up with Minho at all. So him coming back to Korea? That was quite the news.

Besides, Minho knew how to make an entrance. He wasn’t one for blitzy and glammed up spectacles, but he knew how to do just enough to make heads turn and subtly draw the attention of everyone in the room to himself. He brought his own spotlight wherever he went, and this instance was no exception.

It was interesting that Minho had chosen now to come back, because in two weeks’ time, your company was having a party to celebrate its 5-year anniversary. Your entire family would be there, of course, and even your father, who liked to keep a low profile, would probably have to clean up and make appearances. Just to keep up the reputation.

You hummed away, lost in your thoughts. Seungmin’s breathing eased and you turned to him. “Is he free?”

Seungmin shook his head regretfully. “I’ve already asked Minho when he arrived. He said he was busy, but he would definitely meet you at the company event. Specifically, Minho wanted to be your plus-one.”

You tilted your head to the side. Minho as your plus-one? That was funny. Usually that would imply that you had some sort of higher rank than him, and although you technically did, he was still older than you by a year and had held that over you throughout your entire life. Besides, Minho had his own invitation. In fact, he should be bringing someone you hadn’t met before as his plus-one.

You and Jisung usually went as each other’s plus-ones, that way you couldn’t get into any dating rumours but you also wouldn’t look like lonely old people with no friends. You were each other’s best friends… or at least that’s what you thought.

If Minho wanted to change things up, you weren’t going to object. It was time Jisung got an official date, anyway. Wasn’t he sick of only ever having lovers for a month? This would be a good change for everyone.

You nodded at Seungmin, right before a notification flashed on your screen. Seungmin excused himself while you clicked on the notification curiously.

You immediately clicked on the files, regretting it only a little. Sure, you had more work to do, but they wouldn’t be as interesting as what Chan had sent you.

As expected, Chan’s demo-style sample got you engaged and hooked right from the start. He was very intentional in his use of unconventional sounds (did you just hear someone growl? You hoped not), and it was something refreshingly new from the constant lull of K-pop producers chasing trends.

It was raw, and clearly written just for him. It wasn’t really polished the way one cleaned up their works when they wanted to send them to someone. It felt like a first draft, something that definitely had potential but was still in the works.

You couldn’t tell if the lyrics were meant to be changed later on but you didn’t want him to tweak it much. You enjoyed the use of both English and Korean (though you had to admit, your English wasn’t very good, so you had to search up some of the words he used) and the style of the rhyming. His vocals were good, but not polished-strong. It sounded a bit husky, but he could definitely carry a tune and hit the notes he wanted to.

And the rapping definitely caught your attention. Of course you had heard good rappers before, but Chan just stood out somehow. Maybe it was the tone of his voice or his flow, but something was just… different. And you liked that.

You didn’t know if you had anyone available who could match his style, though, and you told Chan that.

You immediately dialed Seungmin to let him know how things had turned out, and asked him to send your apologies to Minho, and ask him to go with Jisung instead. It was definitely going to be an eventful party.

YOU NEEDED SEUNGMIN. Or Jisung. Or even Minho. Just someone to keep you grounded. The party was too busy and too noisy and you were finally starting to understand why your father preferred to stay at home and chill, because it was absolutely suffocating.

Conversations were happening everywhere, and polite greetings streamed out of your mouth without a second thought. You had to bow to many people but you could barely remember their names, even though you had seen them plenty of times before.

You breathed heavily in and out and your eyes scanned the crowd for Jisung. Where was he? How was he? Would he be able to take over for you while you found somewhere to rest for a bit?

A hand tapped your shoulder and you whirled around, catching sight of a familiar face. Chan. A wave of relief washed over you, and you grabbed his extended hand for support and shook it.

“Glad you could make it.”

“Me too,” he replied. “Are you alright? You look flushed.”

You shook your head. “No, I need to get away from here. But first, I need to find Jisung.”

Good things must come in series, because you finally spotted Jisung in the crowd, chatting happily away. Your social energy was drained but considering Jisung’s wasn’t, you should be okay to leave the scene for a bit.

“Ji,” you told him softly in his ear. “I need some fresh air, I’ll pop out for a bit.” He nodded absently and you caught sight of his jacket on a chair. “And if you’re not using this, can I borrow it? I’ll return it to you later.” He nodded and waved you off, his conversation never pausing for even a second.

You slid your hands in the jacket, grateful that you and Jisung were of about the same size. It fit like a glove, and was warm enough for you to head outside with Chan, onto the balcony.

The balcony was empty save for one person, gazing out across the wide expanse of Seoul onto the streets, brightly lit by streetlights. A whoosh of cool air hit your face, a breeze whistling past your ears. You quickly shut the door behind Chan, and he hovered behind you, unsure what to do.

The person in question turned, and your eyes met Minho’s. He was as tall as you remembered, gaze as clear and sharp as it was in your memories. He held his arms out and you collapsed into his embrace, warm and inviting around you. “I missed you,” you murmured.

“Me too.” He got down from the ledge and pulled out a chair for you to sit, finally seeming to notice Chan’s presence.

“Oh. Minho, meet Chan. Chan, meet Minho.” You stretched your lips in a nervous smile as Minho gave Chan a once over. You had seen Minho do that before, and it was the most nerve-wracking thing ever. He would slowly trail his eyes down your figure, analysing every piece of clothing you owned, your jewellery, your makeup if you had any, your smile, your eyes, your hands, even the shoes you were wearing.

And, if he deemed you worthy, he would nod. You would sigh in relief, of course. That was only polite.

Chan, however, didn’t seem to get the memo. He cocked his head as Minho swept his gaze over him and smiled when Minho nodded, proffering his hand for Minho to shake. Minho took it, and you—of all people—sighed in relief.

You gestured for Chan to sit opposite you, and Minho drew himself a chair next to you, crossing one ankle over his knee and leaning back languidly. It almost looked like a challenge to you, but Chan didn’t take the bait.

“Soo…”

You quickly became engrossed in your discussion with Chan, who, to his credit, ignored Minho for the most part and stayed completely focussed on what you were saying. You managed to discuss a price he was willing to work for, and agreed that he would release a mini album by the end of four months, with the help of one of the agents whom you’d convinced to clear her schedule.

Chan was very agreeable, only offering a different opinion when it came to his work style. He said he preferred to work in “St(r)ay Away” rather than in the studios you had, claiming that the “people watching” was good for inspiration.

You always wanted to give your artists creative freedom and control over their work environment as far as possible, so you promised to make the necessary arrangements.

Tapping on the glass interrupted you, and you turned your head at the same time as Minho to see an eager Jisung waving excitedly at both of you. Minho got up, engulfing you in another hug.

“Don’t drink too much,” he murmured. “Try not to do stupid shit. Yes, you’re a consenting adult, and no, that doesn’t make you immune to the influence of alcohol.” You nodded obediently and patted him on the back before he hurried off, anxious to catch Jisung before he got lost among the crowd again.

You sat back down and watched Chan out of the corner of your eye. As you talked with Minho, he had watched you carefully as well, noting the soft, protective tone that Minho spoke with and the ease with which you agreed. He had pulled his phone out of his pocket and began furiously typing away, humming to himself as he did so.

Curious, you thought. That was what you did when you got inspiration as well.

The lights inside seemed to get brighter as the night sky darkened, the stark contrast drawing your attention to it. You noticed Changbin, your ex, who was dancing with Jeongin, Hyunjin and Felix on the dance floor. They were having the time of their lives, finally having some freedom under your label after transferring.

The freedom in question was demonstrated when the first thing Changbin had done was to ask you to be his significant other. You probably shouldn’t have agreed but you were young, stupid and in love.

He was handsome and a good rapper but most importantly, he was kind and respectful towards women. He was also funny when he wanted to be, and all in all it had really sealed the deal for you. Only after the rumours and scandals started to threaten both of your careers, had you given in to the pressure and broken up. There were no hard feelings, but residual attraction remained.

You bid goodbye to Chan, who was already engrossed in his own thing again. He followed you back into the warmth of the building, only to settle down in one of the comfortable chairs and busy himself with his own things.

Hesitantly, you made your way towards Changbin. Although it was a company event, it wasn’t very uptight and controlled, so there were drinks being served and music being played. It was almost midnight and the mood had clearly shifted towards a more energetic, crazy mood, and Changbin was very much at home.

When he finally saw you, the world fell silent. Your breath hitched in your throat as you waited nervously for his response. Everything else had fallen away, and for a moment it was just the two of you existing in the continuum of time.

“Y/n!” He called, hugging you tightly. “It’s so good to see you again.” You greeted each of the members politely, and Hyunjin stared at you, mouth agape.

“And here I was thinking the Biny/n crumbs twitter account was the only way I could see the two of you interact again.” You rolled your eyes at Hyunjin’s sassy remark, inwardly comforted by his (however backhanded) welcoming words.

“Let’s get some drinks and talk,” Changbin suggested, and you followed mindlessly as he ordered drinks for both of you—a margarita on the rocks for you—and you sat down, amazed that he still remembered what you liked after all that time.

It was so easy to fall back into step with Changbin, it almost felt like no time had passed at all. He was still the same cheerful, positive person who had so much going on in his life. You, on the other hand, were still the one who lent a listening ear, shaking your head exasperatedly when he told you of the shenanigans he had been up to.

Of course, the two of you drank, and drank, and drank. He told you a funny story, and you drank out of a need for your hands to be occupied. You told him of your troubles, and you drank to drown your negative thoughts, he drank out of solidarity. He told you of the injuries he had sustained, you told him to be more careful. He laughed. “Yolo!” Both of you drank.

Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. That’s what they said, wasn’t it? It must have been true because you would not have been able to catch up with Changbin for so long if you had been sober. The conversation would have dwindled when it came to a sensitive topic, and the atmosphere would have grown awkward.

But it was easier when you were drunk. Everything seemed to spill out of you like the liquid courage you were consuming, and no barriers remained to hold anything back. It flowed and it flowed, words that you would never had uttered if you still possessed any form of sobriety.

Changbin must not have noticed, because he did not comment. You were both too flushed and too drunk to form any kind of coherent thought, and the only thing you wanted when the world started spinning was to get away from everything. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and Changbin stumbled after you.

However, he was too drunk to walk straight, and was quickly taken away by Hyunjin with an apologetic smile towards you. You didn’t see it, consumed only by the bile in your throat and the swimming of your vision.

You went to the bathroom, only making it as far as the one meant for wheelchair-bound persons when you collapsed over the toilet bowl, unvoluntarily regurgitating your previous meal.

The taste of mushed up food remained in your mouth, the acid burning your throat. You looked at yourself in the mirror and you sighed, rinsing whatever was left out of your mouth and washing your face. You also removed any of the minimal makeup you had applied to make yourself look presentable.

Your eyes looked smaller, and you could now see the imperfections on your face, but at least you were authentic. Right?

You pushed the door open (it had closed by itself) and almost slammed it in Chan’s face.

There he stood, arms hanging awkwardly by his side, watching you with concern. You wobbled, and his arms subconsciously stretched out to catch you. You leaned onto him for support and he tried to help you walk away from the toilet.

“Where do you want to go?” Chan asked you worriedly. “You really don’t look good, Y/n-ssi. I think you should go home.”

“Mm… Can’t. Need to find… Jisung. He’ll know what to do,” was all you managed before you passed out, slumped in Chan’s arms.

Fuck. Chan stared at you, completely flabbergasted. What should he do? He had never had to deal with drunk bosses before. Sure, he had dealt with his fair share of drunk friends, but never someone who was superior to him in rank, much less a stranger whom he had just met a few weeks ago.

He decided to bring you back to Jisung, when Minho spotted him.

Minho’s eyes hardened and his smile disappeared into a thin line when he spotted Chan holding your body, leading you away from the gender-neutral bathroom meant for wheelchair-bound people.

He had been talking to Jisung and catching up with Jeongin and Felix, finally loosening up as the evening progressed, and Chan just happened to be in his line of sight.

And, of course, you. Of course you had ignored what he had told you and gotten drunk and blacked out. Of course you ended up in the arms of a man he didn’t know, whom you had been talking to when the night was still young. And best of all, of course you had to be dragged out, unconscious, from a bathroom. Who knew what could have happened to you inside the bathroom?

“Ji,” he called once, loud enough for Jisung to hear, before he made his way over to you, all but snatching you from Chan’s arms.

He shifted you in his arms so he could comfortably carry you, bridal style, glaring at Chan. “I don’t really know who you are, but if I find out you’ve done anything to Y/n, you’re a dead man.”

Jisung rushed over to his side, his smile falling off his face when he saw what was happening. “Chan-hyung? Minho-hyung? Anyone would like to fill me in?”

“I saw him with Y/n, dragging their unconscious ass out of a toilet. Who knows what he’s done to them,” Minho replied viciously before Chan had a chance to answer.

“Chan-hyung… seriously? I thought you and them were just friends,” Jisung said disappointedly. Chan tried to defend himself, but both Minho and Jisung turned their backs on him, Minho pressing his forehead to yours as he carried you out to Jisung’s car.

THE NEXT MORNING, you woke up to natural light streaming in through the windows, and the delicious smell of pancakes wafting in from the kitchen. You hurriedly dressed and got out of the room, spotting Minho and Jisung whispering to each other urgently as they sat at the table, clearly waiting for you to make an appearance.

“Morning.”

“Morning. I tried to tell Minho-hyung you were old enough to deal with a hangover yourself, but he just wouldn’t listen.” You looked carefully at Minho: at his disheveled hair, his bloodshot eyes, and the messy creases in his suit from the night before. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

As if reading your mind, Jisung explained, “He sat by your bed all night, afraid you would wake up and have some horror story to tell about last night. He didn’t sleep at all.”

Poor Minho. He definitely needed his beauty sleep, but it was alright because he was pretty either way. You checked your phone; luckily Jisung had had the presence of mind to help you charge it and you had received several messages. A couple were from your parents, telling you to sleep well and let them know if anything had happened, and from Seungmin, Hyunjin and Changbin, in that order, asking if you were okay. Seungmin also asked if you were coming for work or calling in sick. The last one was from Chan. He asked if you were okay, if Minho was mad at him, and if you were going to reconsider the deal. He’d understand if things had changed, he said.

You told him it was still on and Seungmin would deal with the logistics. You replied to everyone, explaining that you were fine and thanking them for their worry. You told Seungmin you’d be late but not to any meetings. You’d be there in an hour, you said.

You told Jisung that you needed a lift. He told you to take your things and he’d meet you in the car once he took his keys.

Minho watched you blankly, too tired to function. You tilted his chin up to get a good look at him, sighed when you saw the bags under his eyes, pressed a kiss to his forehead and thanked him for bringing you home; for noticing you passed out even when there were so many other people there blocking you from his sight.

He returned your smile tiredly. “I’ll always be there for you. We agreed, remember?”

You did.

WORK WAS SO DRAINING, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. You would give anything to leave the room and the discussion, and the meeting being about the most mundane things ever was not helping. Obviously you understood the importance of market share and dealing with your competitors, but you were not in the mood to listen to the board’s insistence on rebranding or some other form of expanding your target audience.

Was this what corporate life was like? Because you definitely weren’t cut out for it. Your eyelids were drooping and you were dangerously close to collapsing on the table if it weren’t for the caffeine running through your veins.

Seungmin had greeted you with coffee that morning, “under Minho’s orders” to make sure you weren’t too hungover and also to keep you awake. It helped keep the headache at bay, and you thanked Minho.

He hadn’t replied yet, so you assumed that he had finally gone to get his beauty sleep, glad that you hadn’t asked him to drive you that morning.

One of the board directors was talking your ear off, and you had almost forgotten about Chan. At least, until he clocked in for work, claiming to have “reached his studio”. It was accompanied with a goofy selfie of him at St(r)ay Away.

You were confused by how comfortable he seemed to be with texting you and also his excitement to get to know you, which showed through his messages. But it was cute, and you were starting to warm up to him.

Chan was insane. He sent you a picture of the progress he had made and you were glad you could be there to keep him accountable. You ran a company and you couldn’t do that for everyone. But then again, you didn’t personally recruit everyone, and not everybody helped get you out of a creative slump. So you supposed you could make exceptions when it came to Chan.

He shot you a quick text, saying “going home now! you should too 🥱” and the corners of your lips lifted in the smallest of smiles. It was only something small, but the gentle reminder to take a break and not to overwork yourself made your day.

Still grinning like a fool, you dialed Seungmin’s desk and told him to go home as well, a skip in your step as you made your way to Minho’s car. Since the company event, he said he wanted to drop you off at work and pick you up to keep you safe. (How crazy that he cared for you more than Jisung did; Jisung didn’t give enough fucks to give you a lift to and from work.) In return, you offered for him to stay at your and Jisung’s place, and he took up residence in the guest room.

He opened the door for you, asking you about your day. You told him of all the boring administrative things, keeping to yourself the texts that Chan had sent you. They were just a one-time thing, you thought to yourself. Sooner or later, the novelty of texting you would be lost, and Chan would not check in with you anymore.

You couldn’t be more wrong.

Chan continued to text you about your day every day for the time period leading up to the release date for his album, for which a name was pending. He didn’t seem to send you any more songs after that, which you sorely missed.

He probably didn’t dare to overstep his boundaries, which you understood. But you didn’t want him walking on eggshells every time he interacted with you. So one day, you impulsively told Chan that you could be a beta listener for his songs if he wanted to send them to you. You didn’t do that for everyone, because you’d be a very busy person, but Chan’s music style appealed to you. Plus, you were constantly intrigued by what was going on in that head of his.

When Chan sent you four songs that he was planning to put in his album, you were pleasantly shocked by how he seemed to be outdoing himself. Having a purpose and a cohesive theme across several songs allowed him to express himself better, and when giving him feedback, you found that you were genuinely excited for his release.

You checked your email for any updates from his agent or his manager, and entered the release date on your calendar. You wanted to be free on that day so you could congratulate him in person.

You were thinking about this as you exited your car from the passenger side, Minho coming out from the driver’s side. For the month that he had been in town so far, he had consistently driven you to work every single day. You joked that not only was that the longest amount of time he’d ever spent in one place, it was also the commitment that he’d stuck to for the longest time.

Sleepily, you laid your head on Minho’s shoulder and sighed tiredly. You really wanted to go home. The real reason that you were hanging on through all those boring meetings was that you were looking forward to Chan’s release, and you had to keep the company going for that to happen.

It was funny. Ever since you had visited “St(r)ay Away”, you felt like something was missing. It had been a brief but much-needed reprieve and without that feeling of “wow, this is what music is supposed to sound like”, you felt a sense of emptiness.

The sense of emptiness continued throughout the entire day, only intensifying when you were in the presence of Jisung’s “partners” (whom you greatly disagreed with). Their creative vision of the company was going to absolutely destroy all your morals and everything you stood for as a CEO. You wanted to promote small groups, give artists freedom in their music and emphasise on uniqueness, not follow the same concepts that were “trending”.

You didn’t care if it wasn’t as financially beneficial as the marketing gimmicks the partners had thought up, you wanted to stay true to your family and your own ideas. Besides, in the long run, were they really going to priorities their monetary gains over the mental health and the passion of the artists?

Clearly, they had no qualms about squashing the creative ideas that their artists had. “They’re i-doll-s for a reason,” one of them even joked. Jisung looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t speak out.

Annoyed with your brother and everyone in the room, you looked down at your watch and found that it was time to go home. Telling Jisung to deal with it but not make any decisions yet, you took your leave.

The door swung open and somebody stumbled back. You quickly stepped out and shut the door, coming face to face with Minho and Chan.

“Oh. Hi,” you said, forcing a smile onto your face as you looked at Chan. You hadn’t gotten your daily selfie that day, and you’d texted Chan about it, but he hadn’t read your text for the whole day.

When you turned to Minho, you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch ever so slightly. His tell. “Minho? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, trying to casually brush it off. But you knew him better than that, and you weren’t just going to let it slide. Recalling the way he had been looking at Chan when you first turned to him, you deduced that it must have been related to Chan.

Speaking of which, why was Chan in the building? You and he had already agreed to let him work in his store, why had he specially come down to SFX Labels, and why today of all days?

As if reading your mind, Chan rushed to explain, “For some reason, my agent disagrees with your idea for me to release a solo album. He wanted me to produce music for I.O.U. because he and the manager are friends. I had to set up a meeting with the managers and producers, which wasn’t great. The members were friendly, but the producers were terrible. They couldn’t agree on whether they liked the music or not and constantly bickered the whole time I was there. The concept, style, and even the lyrics of their previous songs were completely different from mine, so I really wonder whose idea it was to invite me.”

You shrugged. “Stupid people are everywhere. Contrary to popular belief, I can’t be responsible for the actions of every individual under the label.”

The muscle in Minho’s jaw loosened, and he let out a snort. “You’re pretty stupid sometimes, too.”

“Not as stupid as Jisung, hopefully.”

Minho grinned. “Not as stupid as Jisung.”

CHAN KEPT HIS DISTANCE from you and Minho, close enough to keep you in his sight but far enough not to hear your conversations. Leaning tiredly on a wall, he looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

He hadn’t told you, but he thought Jisung had driven you to work in the morning when he spotted you getting out of the car. He was just about to go over and say hi to his favourite Han siblings, but got cold feet when he saw you resting your head on Minho’s shoulder. He was half thrown off by Minho’s constant affection towards you, half thrown off by how cold Minho was towards him.

Remembering Minho’s glare and his hug to you and how upset he had been finding Chan carrying your drunk self away from a public restroom, Chan had hesitated, finally deciding to just go in and not greet the two of you.

When he left the studio that evening, he was both exasperated and frustrated. He had wanted a creative, collaborative experience, not an argument he felt the need to mediate. That was why he preferred to work alone in a (mostly) quiet place and he regretted listening to his agent instead of consulting you.

He had been engrossed in his unhappiness, not watching where he was going. He hadn’t texted you that morning because of the Minho incident, and you had asked him about it. Chan had just been about to reply with two selfies (one to make up for it and one for the end of work) when he crashed into Minho. Minho and Chan both immediately apologised, Chan bowing in greeting to his senior, when Minho recognised him.

It was difficult to ignore the daggers Minho was sending his way, especially when Chan got the idea Minho didn’t have the best impression of him.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah,” Chan grimaced. “It’s me.” Minho didn’t look too happy. He would probably have given Chan a piece of his mind. Chan was readying himself for a “stay away from Y/n, you don’t deserve her” kind of spiel when, luckily for Chan, you walked out of the door, almost crashing into him. Again.

He kept quiet while you laughed with Minho, pressing his lips together and trying not to think about how it would feel if you were to have that kind of banter with him. Would he even be able to say something funny like that to you or would he turn into a stammering, blushing mess?

It was hard to tell.

But one thing was for sure. You and Minho had a dynamic that was hard to replicate, and he didn’t want to cross any boundaries. Even if they weren’t set in stone or clearly spelt out, he didn’t want to ruin whatever you had going on with Minho. He decided to remain civil with you, continuing to text you but never making a move.

After all, he didn’t stand a chance against Minho.

IT HAD BEEN THREE MONTHS. Three months since Minho’s arrival in Seoul and he was still there. You couldn’t believe it.

Every morning, you awoke from your bed (trying not to wake Jisung up on his side of the room, he had moved in to make space for Minho), and you tiptoed over to Minho’s room, fully expecting it to be empty.

You would have been less surprised to see an empty, cleaned out room with no evidence that Minho had ever been there, with maybe a short note that said “Goodbye. Don’t miss me too much” than what was happening.

It was early in the morning and Minho was still fast asleep, but still very much there. Physically present. It was such a shock to you and it was probably the longest time that Minho had ever been in one place, besides when he was too young to travel.

He must have had a sixth sense, because after about a minute or so of you staring at him to confirm that he wasn’t going to disappear magically, he sleepily blinked his eyes open and caught sight of you.

“Morning,” he mumbled, the corners of his lips lifting up into a smile.

“Good morning. Do you want me to make ramyeon or are you content with just the bread from yesterday?”

“Ramyeon sounds good,” he replied.

As Minho changed his clothes, you headed to the kitchen to make ramyeon. You were still half asleep, barely going through the actions, and when you set the bowl of noodles onto the dining table, you were caught off guard by Minho’s excited smile.

“What is it?” You asked suspiciously. Knowing Minho, he only smiled like that before he was about to play a prank on you, or when he was up to something sneaky.

“I think we should go to an open class,” Minho said, face impassive. He fought to keep his composure as he watched the struggle of emotions flashing across your face.

“What, like learn a dance? Together with a bunch of strangers?”

“Basically, yeah. I found this place and I’ve already booked it a while back. It’s pretty crowded sometimes so I decided to ask you later and just cancel if you didn’t want to go. I’d pay and everything.”

You would probably have said no, but you felt bad after all that Minho had done. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a complete disaster, right? You could only make so much of a fool out of yourself. Surely it would be fine.

It was not fine. Minho was not lying when he said that it would be crowded and if the morning hadn’t made your day, you would never have gone for another open class in your life.

The two of you had left a note for Jisung, telling him that you’d be gone for the day, and headed to a coffee shop to get a cup of coffee. The weather was lovely, a breeze gusting past as you sat outside the shop, precariously balanced on the metal stools, blowing on your coffee to cool it down. As you sipped your drink gingerly, Minho told you all about his adventures.

He told you about Italy and their delicious pizza, how there everyone’s mother was a cook and he was always invited for a meal at a different person’s house after each dance session. He had even bought a piece of art from one of the painters there and proudly kept it in one of his luggages to bring on future trips.

He told you about Taiwan and their night markets, how he’d made new friends with the dancers there and gone to get bubble tea and scallion pancakes together. He told you about the competition he won there, even speaking a few words of their language to convince you.

He told you about America and Turkey and Spain, and how every country’s culture and way of life was different.

He was a time chaser, if you thought about it. He wanted to experience everything that the world could offer him in the shortest time possible. When you were younger, he had come so close to dropping out of school that his parents said they would stop paying for his dance classes and competition fees if he didn’t buckle down and study.

You couldn’t understand him at the time. Why would anyone want to sacrifice the security of an education paid for by your parents to go jump into the great unknown that was the world?

But now, looking back, you understood why he was that way. Hearing his tales of his travels made you wonder if you were living life as vicariously as you could, or if you were living through the other people you saw.

And if you weren’t living, when would you start?

9.54pm

YOU PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN. Minho was spread out on the couch, facing you but not paying attention to you. You looked back down at your screen and the messages Chan had sent you and tapped Minho’s ankle with your knee.

“Yah, Lee Minho.”

“Yes, Han Y/n?”

“Chan asked me out.” This sentence caught Minho’s attention and he stiffened, head lifting up to look at you. His brows furrowed slightly and the muscle in his jaw twitched. He set his phone down, looked at you properly and gestured for you to go on.

“Do you want to go?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, he probably likes me, right? So I shouldn’t break his heart, right?”

Softer, until you almost didn’t catch it, Minho mumbled, “But the real question is, do you like him back?”

Then it was your turn to knit your eyebrows together in confusion. Did you? You had never been very good with feelings. When you were fifteen, Jisung had a crush on a girl and so did you. Naturally, Jisung acted like himself and you just hyped him up as best as he could to get him to ask her out. When she rejected him, you had been sad for Jisung but also slightly relieved. You had never told Jisung about the incident, because even when you were in your twenties, you couldn’t for the life of you think of what to say.

You couldn’t identify feelings very well and were too socially anxious to have the guts to confess. Luckily for you, Chan did. The confession had you thinking that you might have something with him. You probably liked him. And at the very least, you would have liked to start something with him.

You told Minho that, but all he had to say was, “Hmm.” What was that tone supposed to mean?

“Is there something you need to tell me, Lee Minho?”

Minho was quiet, which was not unusual. He wasn’t smiling, which was a bit unusual but not completely weird. His jaw was twitching, which was not unusual but definitely meant that there was something going on.

“I need to tell you something.”

Patiently, you waited in silence as you watched him struggle inwardly with his thoughts. His mouth opened and shut as he fought to find the right words to express himself.

“Han Y/n, I have loved you for all the time I've known you. I really, really like you and that realisation was probably what grounded me and led me to come back to this place I hate. I want to travel the world but only with you by my side and I've been searching for so long and I think I've found what i’m looking for. You.”

You must have been so stupid for not realising because of course you were the reason that Minho had stayed in Korea for so long. You remembered that morning when you had just been thinking of the very same thing. You were such a fool not to have noticed that the common factor in all of Minho’s happy stories was always you.

Didn’t you see the framed picture of you, Jisung and Minho as kids that Minho propped up at his bedside table when he first unpacked?

Didn’t you realise that Minho couldn’t—or shouldn’t—be able to drop you off because he had other commitments, but he did it anyway because his feelings for you ran deeper than just your friendship?

Didn’t you see the way his jaw twitched when he saw you speaking to Chan?

There were so many telltale signs but you were blind. He gave you signal after signal after signal but you chose to drown instead, swerving off the bridge into the deeper waters of denial.

“Then why’d you just sit there and tell me and Jisung to go for our crush when we were fifteen? You never told me you liked me your whole life. I couldn’t possibly have known.”

Minho smiled sadly. “I thought you knew when I told you I loved you that I meant it as more than friends. When I said I’d be there for you, always, I didn’t mean it lightly. You just never read into it and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But I had to get it off my chest before I left you, again. I don’t know if I’ll ever come back after this, Y/n.”

You tripped over yourself trying to hug Minho, but when you did, he held you so tightly that you could barely breathe. It felt as if he was trying to make up for lost time, tears streaming down his eyes.

“Oh, Minho.”

It was just like the first hug you had given him when he was in Korea again, when you saw him at the company event. His embrace was still just as warm, only that he was shaking, and you didn’t think it was from the cold.

You hugged him back just as tightly, squeezing as much comfort into your hug as you could, trying to hold him in your arms like he used to do to you.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whispered hoarsely. “I don’t think- I don’t think I could live without you.”

Minho only responded by hugging you tighter before he finally let you go, laughing as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. For both of us. I hope- I hope you enjoy your date. And I’ll stay a while longer. From there, we’ll see where the wind takes me, yeah? And maybe one day, you’ll come to visit me instead.”

Although Minho was playing it off and acting all nonchalant about it, you knew Minho liked to bottle up his feelings and never talk about it. In fact, he probably had a ton of bottled-up trauma he needed to talk about at some point in time.

However, for that moment, you were content not to speak about it. You would simply keep an eye out for your best friend, whom you still loved regardless.

The tension swells up Are you listening? Paddling and clambering onto your surfboards In anticipation of a wave You’re ready to ride

And all of a sudden there is quiet The peace before a storm

The raging sound of the winds And the moving ocean are lost Has no one told you to never try to tame the seas?

You must not have been a very good listener The rules try to cage a roaring beast The restrictions, limitations are pressing in.

The darkness is imminent All that is on the surface Is inconsequential The water hugs me tightly It drags me down

The silence in my ears is deafening My lungs scream for oxygen And everything goes dark

Has no one told you to never try to tame the seas? You must not have been a very good listener

I won’t be tamed Won’t be broken Won’t fall to your stupidity Try to cage me, hold me back You don’t know what I’m capable of

(Grr wolfgang)

Dark blue overshadows, You think you can stop me? You might be the king of the jungle But here, I am the leader of the pack

(SCREECH-)

YOU COULDN’T TELL IF the last screech was from the song or from the abrupt stop that Jisung had come to. Next time, you weren’t going to let him drive. You didn’t want to lose your life going on a date.

Chan’s album had just been released and though it was unconventional to release it early on in the morning, you had requested that it be so. You wanted to listen to it on the way to the pottery-making class that Chan had booked, but you also knew that it would attract more people to listen to it if they were actually awake when it was released.

The mall wasn’t far from your apartment, but Minho and Jisung had insisted on coming with you, obviously. They just couldn’t leave you alone. Minho had been hyping you up the entire ride over, telling you not to be anxious and that he and Jisung had your back if you decided to bail at any one point in time. Jisung was just there to chaperone, or so he claimed. You personally thought that he just wanted to poke his nose in your business because he didn’t have a love life of his own.

They flanked you like bodyguards, and Minho was dressed in black from head to toe, which really sealed the deal. Jisung pulled Minho away to the other side of the pottery studio, both of them sneaking glances at you every once in a while in between making fun of each other’s creations.

You, on the other hand, were feeling rather jittery. You rushed to congratulate Chan’s release and compliment him on his work. “It was stunning,” you told him. “I’m always impressed by your arrangements of beats.”

He smiled back shyly at you, blushing furiously. He had to look away for a second to compose himself before thanking you for the compliment.

With all the nerves and anxious energy in the air, it took a while for both of you to calm down. Then, you could finally start enjoying each other’s company without being overly conscious of your own breathing and your hair and everything else.

Chan turned out to have a natural affinity for pottery. Even the lady teaching the class asked if he had made anything out of clay before, because he seemed so experienced and talented at it.

You, however, couldn’t say the same. Your cup was looking a little wonky halfway through the process of making it and it was precariously lopsided. Chan reached out to help you straighten it, but not before snapping a photo of your stunned face with the mug.

“Hey!”

“I’m making that my contact picture for you,” he grinned mischievously. Oh, right. He was referring to that one time that you told him to use one of the corporate pictures on the internet for your contact picture. You’d almost forgotten it until he brought it up.

You could hardly believe how long it had been since that day. Your and Chan’s relationship had grown so much since then and you’d grown less uptight and stiff around him, additionally his sense of humour had started to show more.

You were so happy to have Chan in your life.

Especially when he handed you a mini flower bouquet after you had cleaned up and sent your pottery creations off for baking and glazing. You took it, slightly confused, until Chan excitedly asked you to untie the ribbon. The bouquet unfolded into a little coaster and it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen.

Chan even brought you window shopping at the IKEA opposite the mall, nodding with you as you criticised the room decor and agreed when you liked the aesthetic. If you didn’t know any better, it might have felt like shopping for an apartment.

Afterwards you went to get ice cream together, passing by a couple of plushies hanging on a rack. Unable to resist, you grabbed the wolf plushie keychain and waved it at Chan. “Grr, wolfgang.”

You couldn’t help yourself, collapsing into a heap of giggles.

Chan sighed like an old man, looking between the keychain in your hands and your face. The glee on your face must have been enough to convince him, because he took it into his hand, and reaching out with his free hand, he took a quokka off.

“That’s you,” he grinned.

You cocked your head. “Really?” You’d always told Jisung he looked like a quokka, and obviously the two of you looked alike since you were siblings, but you had never had anyone attribute your looks to that of a quokka’s before.

But Chan was looking at you so tenderly and you didn’t want to ruin the moment, so you took it from your hands and smiled at him.

“Let’s go get these, then.”

YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN dreams never lasted before you woke up in cold sweat, clammy palms gripping your blanket. You had had an awful nightmare about Minho leaving, a manifestation of your fears since he had arrived. It wasn’t a recurring nightmare but it still hit you hard.

Still in shock, you got up to go to the bathroom to splash your face and calm yourself down. It was dark outside, but the room that Minho had been sleeping in seemed eerily empty to you.

When you walked past it again, you did a double take. Minho had been packing his bags for a while and you had been anticipating his departure during that time. However, he had never actually told you when he was leaving Korea, and if he really meant it when he said he might never come back.

Full of questions, you went over to Jisung’s bed to wake him up. You were concerned but mostly confused, and you wanted assurance that Minho was safe.

Little did you expect that Minho had already informed Jisung in advance that he was leaving. The two had even booked Minho’s tickets together, strategically arranging it at night so that you wouldn’t have time to cry and make a big fuss of it all.

“The real reason he had to wake up in the middle of the night to get to the airport for a flight at the most inconvenient hours of the day is so that you wouldn’t make a big fuss out of it,” Jisung hissed. “Yet, even after all that planning, it still seems to backfire. All because you’re so fucking emotionally attached to Minho-hyung.”

You sucked in your breath sharply, but Jisung was relentless. “Have you ever considered my feelings? In our little trio, it’s always felt like Miny/n and Jisung who third-wheeled everywhere you two went. You’re always so caring towards Minho-hyung but never to me. You prioritise him at every stage of life. You idolise him. Maybe you’ve never stopped to think that he doesn’t want you next to him all the fucking time and that’s why he left.”

“I don’t prioritise Minho over you, Ji. I pay so much attention to him whenever he’s here because I never know when he might up and leave. I don’t know when I’ll see him again. And maybe you know, so you’re not worried, but sometimes he ghosts me for days on end and I don’t know whether to be anxious or to attribute it to his busy schedule. You don’t know what that’s like, do you?” You scoffed bitterly, biting your lip to hold back your tears.

“No,” he sneered. “You’re right, I don’t. Because I don’t stick to him like glue and he’s okay with telling me things he knows you can’t handle. You’re acting so damn immature right now and that’s probably why he never talks to you about important things.”

You couldn’t help yourself. The tears rolled silently down your cheeks at Jisung’s words. You knew that he was just cranky and upset, and that he said these types of things completely unprovoked when he was tired or mad, but you still hadn’t expected him to say something like that.

It was true, although you were older than Jisung, Minho always treated Jisung like the older one. He was more protective of you, and always delegated work and details to Jisung when you were planning anything together. When you were still in highschool, you remembered Minho had had a project he desperately needed to finish. You had leaped at the opportunity to be useful to him, but he’d rejected you and gone straight to Jisung instead.

Thoughts were spinning in your head as you remembered all the conversations where Minho had dismissed your thoughts because you were not “ready to talk about those sorts of things” or so he claimed.

Even now, when you were already an adult, Minho and Jisung still treated you like a child.

Frustrated, you changed out of your clothes and grabbed a coat to keep you warm as you left the house. Sitting at the doorstep of your apartment, you gave Chan a call, fully aware that Jisung was extremely close to kicking you out of the house if you didn’t leave him alone.

To your surprise, Chan picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey. Can I, um, crash at your place? I kind of got into an argument with my brother.”

There was the slightest of pauses. “Sure. Send me your address, I’ll come pick you up. I don’t want you to catch a cold trying to get to my place.”

You rattled off the address, and you could almost feel Chan’s nod over the phone. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Chan held true to his word, reaching your apartment in exactly fifteen minutes, even coming up to your apartment door and gazing down at you as you sulked at the door, lips pouted and eyebrows scrunched together.

“Chan,” was all you managed out before he was hugging you, and you felt like melting right there and dissolving into a puddle of tears. “Jisung would have kicked me out if I didn’t shut up but I really needed someone to talk to because—hic—I miss him already,” you hiccuped, tears interspersing your words.

“It’s okay,” Chan whispered, stroking your back comfortingly. “It’s okay to let it out.”

You nodded and wiped your tears, hiccuping and leaning on Chan as he led you down to his car, driving you back to his house.

His house wasn’t much but when he brought you up to his roof, you were amazed by the view. You could almost ignore the city lights from up there, the only thing separating you from the stars being the vast expanse of the night sky between you and the constellations.

Chan brought out two bottles of champagne and glasses, while you snuggled under the blankets he had prepared. For a dirty rooftop in the middle of the city, it certainly was awfully comfortable.

It was also terribly romantic.

Chan wasn’t even settled in by the time you burst into tears, outright sobbing as you told him about how much you missed Minho. The softness of the air mattress under you didn’t make your heart ache any less, and the tears flowed from an endless reservoir, never seeming to run dry.

Chan wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, giving you just enough space to feel sad but not lonely.

He listened to you while you told him of Minho’s tendencies to up and leave, your struggles with your friendship and how vulnerability looked different on Minho with you and Jisung and you didn’t understand why humans were so complicated.

He listened as you told him Minho’s life story and your history with him, why you would miss him so much and how much of your heart he happily occupied, wrenching it away from you each time he left. As your heart slowly grew smaller and scarred, you were sure it was becoming more closed off to others.

You? Emotional? Of course not.

But even your impressive gaslighting skills couldn’t convince you that you weren’t emotional, especially after all you had told Chan.

“Y/n?” was the first thing out of Chan’s mouth after a good minute of silence on your part. The void of noise was punctuated only by your hiccups every once in a while as you fought back a fresh wave of tears.

“I think you need to let some of him go,” he said hesitantly. “It’s okay for him to live his life, and you yours. It’s okay that you’re set on two different paths that only cross once in a blue moon. I promise you, you won’t drift apart just because he likes to wander. You will still be okay and whole without one person and you can still be really good friends.”

Smiling, he pointed to the sky. “Do you see Orion’s belt? Similar to you mourning Minho’s departure, it’s a huge waist of time.”

You laughed involuntarily, eyes shimmering but no longer crying. “Thanks. I think… I needed that.” You gazed at the stars, in awe of their beauty and how vast the universe was. So many things were there for you to be grateful for, you couldn’t afford to squander the gift of time longing for the past. After all, you had the present to be grateful for.

Sensing that you didn’t want to talk anymore, Chan guided your hand out from under the blanket and pointed your finger at the stars. “Do you see that constellation right there? It’s one of my favourites. Sirius.”

“Three guesses why,” you said sarcastically.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little cliché and like the dog constellation because it’s the closest to a wolf. What’re you going to do about it, huh?”

You only responded by pressing a kiss to Chan’s cheek.

“While you’re in a good mood… I also wanted to tell you that it’s okay to be emotionally attached to people and need a while to get over things.”

“And to get into fights with our loved ones?”

“That. Human relations are complicated. You should know that, you people-watcher. I see how your eyes dart in public from one couple to another, scouring the world for any form of humanity to include in your music.”

You felt called out but Chan had a point. “You do it too. Is it my fault that living vicariously through others hurts less than doing it ourselves?”

Chan smiles fondly. “You know everything will work out, right? Hurting out of love is better than not feeling love at all.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you reply, tears blurring your vision. Your hand in Chan’s tightened its grip on him, your rib cage aching as if your heart was really and truly broken.

Chan tilted your chin so you were looking at him, eyes meeting yours as you nodded, just the slightest of motions before his lips were on yours, kissing the pain and the tears away, brushing his thumb over your cheeks to wipe away the traces of your hurt.

“Hey, Y/n. It’s really going to work itself out.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then crying is alright. It’s not a sign of weakness and you’ll let it all out. And from there, I’ll hold you through it all while you mend your broken heart.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

FIN.

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

64 notes · View notes

mrshyungwon · 1 year

Text

Sneaky...

Featuring: fem reader x Yoshinori of Treasure

Genre: smut

Warnings: language (y'all know it), unprotected sex, cock-sucking, fingering, hair-pulling, hate, eating out, idiot parents

A/n: this is honestly one of my best works

-You had met Yoshi a few days before you had gone on a date. At first, he seemed like a spoiled little kid when he picked you up for the date.

"It takes like five minutes for me to put my makeup on," he said. "Why can't it be the same for you?"

You sighed. You were getting pissed off at Yoshi and you hadn't even gone on the date. You grabbed your bag and said, "Ok, let's go."

"Ok, bush head."

Your hands went to your hair and felt it. It felt fine. Yoshi laughed and said, "It was a joke, come on." He opened the car door for you and shut it once you got in. When he was inside, he asked as he started the engine, "So, where are we going?"

You looked at him. "Well, you obviously picked the stupidest and most clichéd date ever. We're going to the movies. And what's worse is that we're going to the drive-in."

Yoshi sighed and put the car in drive. "You told me you like old fashioned things."

"Not that old! Not 50s! More like 80s."

"They would do this in the 80s too, okay?! So just shut the fuck up, sit your little ass down and let me make my dad happy because your dad is his boss."

You looked at him. The traffic lights shone on his equally red hair. He saw you look at him and said, "Yeah, your dad set this up. He was worried that you weren't going to ever have a boyfriend, so he set you up with me, just because I'm around your age and my dad works with him."

You opened your bag and made it look like you were making sure you had what you needed.

Yoshi watched you out of the corner of his eye as he drove. "What, are you on your period or something?"

"No!" You snapped. "I'm just looking through my bag. Can I do that?"

Yoshi shrugged. "Just wondering because I don't want to have to deal with a whiny brat who needs ibuprofen to stop the goddamn cramps. I struggle enough with it with my mom."

"Really? I didn't think your mom was young enough to still have a period."

"She's still young enough to have another baby, so there's an advantage she has over you. I bet you haven't even been fucked."

You were embarrassed as you said, "I haven't."

Yoshi laughed and said, "I can tell why. Who'd want to?"

You started tearing up as he continued driving. He pulled into the drive-in and said to the ticket man, "Two for 'Marley and Me'" as he gave him a hundred dollar bill.

"Over in lot 6. Have a good night."

Yoshi drove to lot 6 and asked, "You want something to eat before the movie starts?"

You nodded as you sat up straight. "Anything will do."

Yoshi shrugged and said, "Ok, I'll be right back."

You wiped your tear stained cheeks with a tissue you found in your purse. At first, you thought that Yoshi was going to make you pay for your half, but he paid for all of it. Then you looked in the mirror of the car and fixed your makeup. Then you looked at the other cars parked near your space. They all had tinted windows, like the couples who were in them were more passionate than you and Yoshi ever would be. Not that you thought anything was going to happen with Yoshi. Before you left the house, you had picked out the best outfit you could wear. That was when you thought that Yoshi was going to be nice. Then when he started acting like a bitch, you instantly wished you had picked out a different outfit.

Now, here you were, waiting for that spoiled brat, wearing denim shorts and a black camisole.

When Yoshi got back, he said as he opened the door, "I got you a Sprite just in case and some popcorn and Swedish fish. Did I do something wrong?"

You shook your head and said, "It's fine."

Yoshi shrugged and said, "You seem troubled, but if you say so..."

"What could you do if I was troubled?"

"Gee, I don't know, help you? I could try and find out what's wrong and try to help you through it, but you say there's nothing wrong, so I don't see why you care. Just watch the movie, for God's sake. I just want to get this night over with."

Throughout the movie, it was fine. You didn't say anything to Yoshi, but you felt him get uncomfortable every time Jenny and John were about to have sex. Especially in the pool scene. Then, during the end, you saw Yoshi wiping his eyes, as if he was crying. Then when he saw you looking, he made it seem like he had something in his eye.

There were a couple times when you and Yoshi touched hands while reaching for the popcorn. You pulled your hand away and said, "God."

When the movie ended, Yoshi started the car and said, "Let's go home. That was lame. I've seen that movie so many times."

"Then why did you want to watch it?" You asked. "There were other movies playing."

"That was the only one I recognized. Now shut up or I'm gonna leave your little ass here."

"Stop saying I have a small ass!" You snapped at him.

"Well, you do. It's gotta be the only attractive part of your body I've seen so far."

"Attractive?"

"Just forget I said anything. Don't tell your dad any bad things happened, because then my dad'll get fired. If he gets fired, I'll know who to go to."

"And what if he does get fired?" You asked.

"Then I'll tell everyone that you have never had sex. That's a pretty big deal around here, so I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

"Why are you so concerned with me having sex? It's a little weird."

Yoshi shrugged. "I'm interested. Not in you, but it the act. It's very..."

"Mind-blowing?"

"Shut up. No. Just...forget it. Just don't say shit to your dad. Tell him it was alright and I was very polite."

"And how will that benefit me?"

"Just fucking do it, ok?! You want to disappoint your dad?"

You shook your head. Once you pulled up to your house, he grabbed your face and said, "Then fucking tell him what I told you. Don't. Say. Shit."

You nodded. "Ok."

You got out of the car and said to Yoshi before shutting the door, "Thanks. I kinda had fun."

You shut the door and Yoshi drove away.

-----

About a week after your date with Yoshi, your dad came home and said that he had to fire Yoshi's father and now his mom had to work. The reason was because he found him stealing from the company safe.

You knew what was coming after that. Pretty soon, Yoshi came to the door and your mom answered it.

"Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N," he said. "I'm here to see y/n."

You darted upstairs into your room before Yoshi saw you. You heard your mom say where you should be. And that was in your room.

It's wasn't too long before you heard Yoshi coming up the stairs. You took a deep breath and pretended to be going through your closet. Then you felt Yoshi grab your hair and pull you away from the closet. He pulled it back and made you look at him. His eyes were black and you had to admit, he was really hot when he was mad.

"Yo..." you started to say, but he covered your mouth and said, "Did you tell?"

You shook your head. You said through his hand, "No."

He didn't believe you obviously, because he let go of your hair and pushed you against the wall. His hands on your shoulders were pressing you against the wall. Then he threw you onto the bed and went to shut the door. Then he said, "You told me you weren't going to say shit about our date."

"I didn't, Yoshi," you said. "I said everything went fine."

"You little lying bitch," Yoshi spat. "My dad got fired today and I told you that you knew who to expect if he did. You heard me."

You shook your head and he pulled you from the bed and pushed you against the wall again. Then he got closer to your face and said under his breath, "Are you still a virgin?"

Your heart started racing as you nodded. Then Yoshi said, "Did you tell on me?" When you shook your head, he started touching your ass. Your eyes widened and he smiled. He pressed his body against yours. "Consider this punishment, my dear."

"Dear?" You asked. Yoshi smiled.

"Yeah, I just realized how cute you are." Then he said as he unbuttoned your shorts, "Don't make any noise, okay? Mommy and Daddy are downstairs."

You nodded and he pulled your shorts down. Once your panties were off, he shoved his fingers inside of your cunt. As they went in and out, you were whimpering softly. He softly asked you, "Do you have handcuffs?"

You breathed in deeply. You nodded in guilt. You said, "In my dresser."

Yoshi threw you back onto the bed and went to your dresser. He pulled out a pair of black fur handcuffs and cuffed you to your head board. "Why do you have these? I thought you were a virgin."

"I am," you said. "I just...I pretend you're in here sometimes."

Yoshi smiled. "Can't get enough of me, can you?"

"Fuck you. No. I just think that you're very..."

"Hot?"

You blushed. "Yeah, you are. So fucking what?"

Yoshi smiled and said, "Then, you'll think I'm hotter after this. You told on me, so I'm gonna punish you." He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. He pulled his cock out of his boxers and said, "Suck me off."

You looked down at his dick and said, "I don't know, Yoshi. My parents..."

"Fuck them. They think we did it in the car a couple days ago. They don't care if you have sex. They just want you to be happy."

"But, we're not having sex. You're just punishing me."

"Shut the fuck up and just suck me off." He made sure you were level with his cock even though you were handcuffed to the bed. You took his cock in your mouth and he started pumping his cock in and out. He groaned softly as your tongue made contact with the tip of his dick. "Fuck," he said. "You little bitch."

You moaned once he got deeper into your throat. You started puckering your lips against his dick. You're saliva got all over him and your mouth. He pulled his cock out.

Once he put his pants back on, he found the key to the handcuffs and unlocked them. You put your arms down and said to him, "My dad told me why he fired your dad."

Yoshi looked back at you. He pinned you to the bed and leaned in close to your face. "Tell me. Why did the fucker fire my dad?"

You looked down at Yoshi's still hard dick and licked your lips. You could see it even through his jeans. Then you looked back up at him and said, "He caught him stealing from the company safe. He had to fire him."

Yoshi's eyes went back to brown and he sat up. He looked at you and then out your window. "You have got to be fucking me. My dad was stealing from the safe? Oh my fucking God." Then he looked at you and said, "I'm sorry. I just thought..." Then he saw you smirk and look down at your lap. "Oh, you little bitch. You liked that didn't you? You liked my cock? Do you like being punished?"

You shook your head. "No, Yoshi. You made me suck your cock. You are the one who barged into my room and started fucking my mouth. Now, can you go? I have some where to go tomorrow."

"Do you have a car?" Yoshi asked you.

"No, but I was thinking that I could just take an Uber."

Yoshi shook his head. "No, I'm picking you up. I'm not letting some strange bastard pick you up and possibly rape you. What time do you need to leave?"

You hugged your knees and said, "Eight am."

Yoshi smiled and leaned in close to you. "Don't do anything without me."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh fuck up. You know you touch yourself and you know you think about me when you do. I mean, don't do anything without me."

"What, you mean you're gonna fuck me on my twin bed in my room in my parent's house?"

Yoshi shook his head. "I'm not gonna fuck you anywhere like that. Just don't touch yourself without me. You can think about it, just don't touch."

"And what if I do?"

"Then you'll get punished again."

Yoshi got up and left your room. You heard him go downstairs and say to your dad, "See you later, Mr. Y/L/N. I gotta get home."

-----

The next morning, you wore a short skirt and a loose shirt that showed your shoulder and bra strap. You waited until Yoshi pulled up to your driveway. He came at eight one. You walked up to his car and said, "So, why are you doing this again?"

Yoshi was looking up and down at you. "Well," he said. "Seeing how you're dressed, I'm glad I decided to take you. You look like a woman ready to be bred."

You blushed and got in the car. Yoshi looked at your legs and said, "Why are you dressed like that?"

You sighed as he started driving. "It's for a job interview."

"For a strip club?"

"No!" You snapped. "It's just a job."

"Yeah you're going to be doing more than a regular job today with that outfit."

You looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Yoshi shrugged. "Well, you sucked me off last night, so who knows what you'll do today with someone else."

You sighed again. "Fuck. You."

Yoshi smiled. "Do you want to?"

You didn't answer to that. "Just fucking drive to this address." You put the address in on his GPS and sat back.

"When do you have to be there?"

"Nine."

Yoshi stopped and said, "Great." He turned the opposite way and parked under some trees, dangerously close to the park. You looked at him and said, "What the fuck?"

"Shut up. We have forty five minutes." Yoshi unbuckled his seatbelt and unbuckled yours. He said, "Get in the back." When you didn't, he said, "Get in the fucking back!"

You went to the back and so did Yoshi. He pushed you against the seat and pressed his lips against your body. His hands went down to your skirt and he found that you weren't wearing underwear. He looked at you and said, "Less work for me." He took his sweats off and started grinding into you. You moaned and said, "Yoshi, please."

Yoshi didn't seem to care that there were children in the park because he started touching you all over. His fingers went up inside of you. You whimpered and moaned as he started fingering you. He obviously did not give two shits that you had a job interview. He just wanted you. Then he said, "You want me to eat you out?"

You swallowed and started breathing heavily. You nodded in spite of seeing the children on the park grounds. Even though a child or mother or nanny could come over and see you two, you still said, "Yes."

Yoshi went down and started kissing your pussy before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it. His tongue touched your pussy and you whimpered. His warm breath felt so good on you.

You don't know how thirty minutes passed by so quickly, but you looked at the clock while Yoshi was still eating you out. You took his head away from you and said, "I have to go, Yoshi. I don't want to miss my interview."

Yoshi smiled and said, "Ok." He wiped his mouth off and pulled your skirt down to it's appropriate level. Then he got in the driver's seat and started the car again.

-----

About a week later, you got the job and started going to work frequently. Everytime Yoshi called you and asked if you were free anytime, you hung up. Even though you wanted to talk to Yoshi, you didn't want him to know that. You wanted him to think that all you guys were doing was in his will. Not yours. Then, if something bad happens, you'll just blame it on Yoshi.

Then one time, your dad called you at work.

"Dad, this isn't a good time," you said as you stepped outside of the room. "I'm in the middle of a group meeting."

"I was thinking," he said. "If you had such a good time with Yoshi the other day, you could go on another date."

"I thought you fired his dad."

"Yes, but Yoshi is a good young man. I've already spoken with him. He said he'll be glad to see you again."

Was your dad trying to get rid of you? Obviously.

"But you and mom are going on that weekend resort thing..."

"We trust you," your dad said. "You will be fine. Ok, gotta go honey. I'll tell Yoshi when you'll be here."

You hung up. "Fuck!" You went back into the conference room and sat back down.

-----

The next day, you're parents left for the resort. It was for their second honeymoon. Apparently, the first one was pretty shitty.

"We trust you, y/n," your mom said as she loaded her bags into the car. "to not do anything while we're gone. This is your weekend off and you are going to stay at home all day."

"Yeah, because you never let me buy a car," you said.

Your mom ignored that. She got into the car, where your dad was waiting. "Make good choices, y/n!" She shouted as they drove away. You went back into the house and you were about to shut the door when it stopped and you almost broke your arm. Yoshi was there and stepped inside the house.

"So, your idiot parents are gone so that they could get the fucking they did get twenty years ago," he said. "What a great opportunity for us."

You looked at him. "Us? There is no us, Yoshi! We haven't done anything to show that we're together. You still hate me!"

"Oh, like you haven't sucked my dick and I haven't eaten you out ever and we're just so pure right? Fuck that idea. I came here to prove your parents wrong and...my dad kicked me out because I stood up to him about the safe thing."

"Wait, first of all, prove my parents wrong about what and second, you don't have anywhere to go?"

Yoshi nodded. "I mean, I have my uncle, but he's high all the time and is gay, so...I don't think so. Also, to answer your first question..." He grabbed your wrist and led you into your parents room, where no sex had happened ever. He threw you onto the bed and took yours and his own clothes off. Then he got closer to you and said, "How about it, y/n? How about I..." He traced your arm with his finger, "take your virginity away? You know your parents think that they had such a horrible child and they just want you to be liked. Also...I don't hate you."

As you laid under Yoshi, completely naked and vulnerable to him, you admitted that you did want Yoshi to take your virginity away. You wanted him to be your first, no matter how he had treated you. He stared at you, waiting for an answer. You nodded.

Yoshi smiled and started touching your breasts. You moaned and said, "Yoshi...oh God. Help me."

"You're gonna need God's help when I'm done with you," Yoshi said as he continued to touch you. You looked at him up and down and thought that he must be a god. He was so handsome and his body was so perfectly shaped. His waist was thin and his legs were unlike anything you had ever seen. He was perfect to you.

Yoshi's hand went to your cunt and he smiled. "Damn, baby. How are you so wet? All I've been doing is touching you." Then he grabbed your arms and brought you up while he was still sitting on you. You groaned and said, "Yoshi...fuck me."

Yoshi laughed and kissed your neck. "Not yet, baby. I want this bed to know what it was missing for the whole time it's been around. God, your parents are lame. My mom has had more sex with other guys than your parents have, I bet."

"They only did it once and that was it," you said. That was what your mom told you. For some reason, she had decided to tell you about her sex life.

Yoshi looked at you as you faced him. You felt his cock pressing up against you. "Well, here's what we have over them. We'll have more sex than they ever will and they're older than us. How do you like that?"

"You mean, like...?"

Yoshi sighed as he felt your back and kissed your neck. "I don't know. We got off on the wrong foot. Maybe we will, maybe we won't. I just know this: we are going to have sex right now."

He laid you down again and started kissing your neck and chest. You were breathing really hard while his lips made contact with your body.

"It's a shame that your parents will have to sleep on the bed their own daughter was fucked on. If they knew, they'd try to burn the mattress. They won't kill me because, as I told you, they don't care if you get fucked. What really matters to them is their lame bed."

You were basically panting as Yoshi was touching your body. Nothing felt quite like his hands. Not that anyone else had ever touched you like Yoshi was. He was going all over you. His lips against your skin felt like heaven. He was kissing your shoulder when you said, "Yoshi, what's going through your mind right now? Like, what are you thinking?"

Yoshi sighed. "Don't do this. I'm gonna get turned off. I want to do this right now. That's what I'm thinking. Now, please shut the fuck up and let me do this."

You moaned as he continued to touch you. He would not take his eyes off of you. He was so excited to be doing this with you. You felt his cock hardening. You moaned again and said, "Yoshi, please."

Yoshi started touching your pussy with the tips of his fingers. Your skin started tingling as he started breathing on it. He softly kissed your pussy over and over. Then, he sat on you again and said, "Are you ready?"

You looked doubtful, so Yoshi said, "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

You looked up at him once he said that. Then you said, "Nothing. It's just...I always wanted to have a pet name for my first time. Sweetheart isn't much of a pet name."

"What is?"

You blushed. You felt his shoulders as you said, "It's like...if I started calling you Daddy, then that'd be your pet name. Or, like, Papi or boy toy."

Yoshi groaned and you felt his cock on your skin. "Am I just a boy toy?"

You shook your head. "No, Yoshi. You're not. I just...I want us to have a good relationship if we ever have one."

Yoshi smiled. He shifted so that he would be able to go inside of you. You whimpered when you felt him on your cunt. You tried to tell him something, but nothing came out.

Then, Yoshi grabbed your hips and pushed in. You moaned and shrieked once his cock made contact with your walls. It felt like nothing else you had put inside of you before. You got louder as Yoshi started rocking around. You felt the bed move as he thrust himself inside of you.

"Oh fuck, Yoshi!" You screamed. "Oh yes, Yoshi. That's it, right there. Oh, God. Oh... daddy. My daddy..."

Yoshi slowed down when you said that. He knew your were basically high with pleasure, but he said, "Don't call me that yet, okay? I'm not your sugar daddy."

You nodded lightly and said, "Yes, Yoshi." He was right, but you did want him to be your sugar daddy.

Yoshi continued to fuck you until he got tired. Then, when he still inside of you, he said, "Can you ride?"

You shook your head and said, "I don't really want to tonight. Can we wait?"

You looked a little scared when you said that, so he told you after he slid out of you, "Don't worry, sweetheart. We don't have to do it tonight."

"Are you done?"

Yoshi shook his head. "I'm just resting. I don't want to overwhelm you just right now. You're new to this and I can't do anything else yet." He ran his hands along your curves. "I don't want to hurt you." Then he leaned in and touched his lips to yours. "I love you, y/n. All the shit I've said to you was just to make you think that I hated you. I don't hate you, baby."

Hearing him call you baby made you press your lips together. Tears started forming at the corners of your eyes. Yoshi saw them and wiped them away. He softly pressed his lips against yours and said, "Don't cry, baby. I won't leave you."

"How do you know that? Every person who has said that they loved me left me. My parents don't love me. None of my family does. No one loves me."

"Hey," Yoshi said as he had you sit up. He put you on his lap and said, "I love you. I just said it. Don't give a fuck about what other people think. I love you and I would like to keep it that way. I don't want anyone else to love you except for me and...our children, if we have any."

You looked at Yoshi and he held your face. "Do you want to do it again?"

You smiled and nodded as Yoshi kissed you again and you both fell backwards on the bed.

#yoshi #yoshinori #treasure Yoshi #treasure yoshnori #yoshi smut #Yoshinori smut #treasure smut #treasure imagines #treasure yoshi smut

138 notes · View notes

book-pirate · 10 months

Text

Be the prompts you want to see in the world, or whatever it was that Gandhi said. “I was just taking a walk through the woods and I didn’t think Fae really existed, and I really don’t think I’ll accept any food from you” AU Lizzie/Darcy ofc

Lizzie cuts through Longbourn Park on the days she walks to work on her way home to stay out of the downtown foot traffic. She walks to work most days, for multiple reasons, including, of course the fact that she lives in a city and it's not practical, and the reduction of her carbon footprint.

If she's being honest, she also experiences horrific road rage and already hates her job enough that she doesn't need to be in a bad mood when she gets to work.

Of course, that being said, rarely does she ever cut through Longbourn Park on the way to work. It's usually dark enough outside that she prefers to stick to the well-lit sidewalks instead of the shadows of the path. However, she makes an exception the day the marathon comes to town. The number of spectators has created larger crowds than usual, and she doesn't feel like wading through strangers when she hasn't had her morning coffee yet.

She's hyper focused on not tripping, in the murky gloom of dawn, when a voice, accent crisp and cool, speaks out, "Excuse me, do you have the time?"

Startling, she clutches her bag and holds it close. Common sense for those living in the city dictates anyone asking for the time is probably going to attempt to steal your phone, so she doesn't rush to answer the stranger's question.

Her eyes adjust to see a pale man standing a few feet away, keeping his distance. He's tall, with beautiful features, dressed in a business suit out of place with his surroundings. It's suspicious, but he's far enough away that she risks taking her phone out of her pocket.

"It's 6:15."

"And the day?"

More suspicion. "Tuesday, the 15th."

The stranger nods, and smiles politely. "Thank you."

She rushes away without saying anything more, and pushes it out of her mind.

A few weeks pass, and she doesn't see the stranger again. She'd kept an eye out, the first few days, but eventually the encounter slips from her mind. There are more important things to worry about, like how her coworkers are trying to actively screw her over and, honestly, if her boss continues acting like he's acting, she might let them, just for an excuse to quit.

She should've gone into teaching, like she wanted, but no, accounting was the more reasonable and responsible choice, according to her mother. She'd never listened to anything her mother had said before, or since, so she's not entirely sure why she let herself be swayed on that particular issue.

It's not until she cuts through the park on her way to work, again, actually, that she sees the stranger. She's running late, and the park shaves five precious minutes off of her commute.

"Excuse me, do you have the time?"

Not only is it verbatim what he said last time, his voice is exactly like it sounds in her memory, so she's not surprised when she turns and sees the man, almost in exactly the same place. She checks her phone. "It's 6:31."

"And the day?"

She frowns. "Tuesday the 19th."

The same smile, the same nod. "Thank you."

It's bizarre in the way not a lot of things are. It stays with her, makes her look at the calendar in her down time, and note the exact amount of time that's passed between their meetings. She decides to conduct a little experiment, just to see if she's insane or not.

She cuts through Longbourn Park the next day, and the Tuesday of the next week. Neither time results in a meeting with the stranger. Marking her calendar for the third Tuesday of the next month, she decides to go about her life as usual.

And then, when she's called to work for an 'emergency' on a Sunday, she runs into him again on her way home.

"Excuse me, do you have the time?"

She jumps, not expecting him, and turns to him. "Don't you have a phone?"

He cocks his head to the side, considering her. "No."

"Why not?" she demands. "I don't know how anyone lives without one nowadays."

He shrugs. "I do."

Something is off, but she can't help her curiosity. "So, do you just hang out in the park, waiting for strangers to tell you the time?"

"You recognize me?"

"Should I not?" she asks, mirroring his expression of confusion. "This is like the third time I've spoken to you."

"Huh." He blinks, and then smiles. It's a little unnerving. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude. Will you give me your name?"

The way he's phrasing it is odd, and it makes the hair stand up on the back of her neck. "Why?"

"So I know what to call you."

She hums. "What if I don't want you to call me?"

He laughs, bright and unexpected. It makes him seem less off-putting. "Fair enough. Will you tell me the date?"

"Sunday, the 24th."

"Thank you," he says. "I expect I'll see you later."

Still unsettled, even minutes later, at her desk, she decides to open up a private browser and google 'will you give me your name'. She thinks she remembers the phrasing, but doesn't know why. Until the search returns.

Thousands and thousands of hits, about the Fae.

"I need a vacation," she mutters to herself, closing out the page viciously.

"What was that?"

The last thing she needs is for her bloodthirsty coworkers seeing her weak. "Nothing, Caroline! Just excited for another day in paradise."

As it turns out, she can't sleep or eat properly, now that the idea has lodged itself in her brain. She reads page after page after page about the Fae on the internet, checks out books from her library that she's sure make her seem crazy. Jane asks if anything's wrong, but that's where she draws the line. Her sister is not getting drawn into this.

She avoids the park, completely, for two weeks, before risking going again. Of course, he's there.

"Hello," he calls out, cheerfully.

"Hi," she returns, short.

"Will you give me your name?"

"Nope."

"That's a shame. Would you like an apple?"

He produces it out of thin air, and it cements her suspicions. "Listen, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, ha ha. Very funny. May I ask you a question that's not this one?"

"Of course," he says, smoothly. "That's a no to the apple, I take it?"

"Yeah," she says, watches him take what looks like a very delicious and juicy bite. "Are you a Fae?"

He chokes on his bit of apple, coughs a few times. "What brought this on?"

"That's not a no," she points out.

"You are correct."

She squints at him. "I'm correct in pointing out that you didn't deny it, or correct in guessing you're a Fae?"

He smiles. "It's really unfair, don't you think, this game of yours? I don't even know your name."

"And you're not getting it," she says.

"Clever girl." He sighs, gives her a short bow. "You may call me Darcy."

"Okay," she says, slowly. "You can call me Nobody."

He laughs, like he did the last time they spoke. "Like Odysseus."

She's surprised, for some reason. "You know the Odyssey?"

"Just because you suspect I'm not human, I can't be aware of human things?" he asks, raising a perfect eyebrow at her.

"I guess not." This entire conversation has made her feel off-kilter. "Was there something you wanted?"

He hums, takes another bite of the apple. After he's done chewing, he says, "I tell you what, you ask a question, and I'll answer, but only if you answer a question of mine. Quid pro quo."

She snorts. "Silence of the Lambs. Okay, now you're just messing with me."

"Maybe, maybe not. Do you agree?"

Remembering what she's read, she tells him, "I agree to answer a question you ask me if you answer a question I ask you."

"Clever," he repeats, the smile on his face looking almost fond. "Alright, you may have the first question."

Now that he's agreed to answer her questions, she's not sure what to ask. They stare at each other for a few moments, before she settles on, "Why are you here? In the park, I mean," she hastens to add, "now."

"I enjoy it here. I like meeting people."

"Are you -"

"Ah." He holds up a slender finger that looks slightly too long. "My turn. Rules are rules."

She sighs. "Fine."

"What's your profession?"

It confuses her, why he'd want to know that. "I'm an accountant."

"Interesting." To his credit, he does look like the answer intrigues him. "Now it's your turn."

"Well, what do you do?"

He smiles. "I supposed you could say I'm a manager."

"Seriously? Just a manager."

His smile widens. "You can ask follow-up questions, you know. You just have to wait your turn."

She rolls her eyes.

They go back and forth like that for almost an hour, as she gets sucked into the conversation. He wants to know the most mundane things about her, like how many siblings she has and how she feels about the windows in her apartment. Being careful in her answering, she speaks plainly and clearly while trying to be clever. She’s not certain how effective it all is, but it makes Darcy smile and laugh, and she's found she likes that.

Not enough to accept his offer of food or tell him her name, but it's pleasant all the same.

In turn, she finds out he also has a sister, whom he loves very much and practically raised, and that he doesn't have many friends, amongst other inconsequential things, like his favorite color (blue), favorite food (fresh blackberries), and favorite song (Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture). Any time she tries to veer into harder facts, like what exactly he is or where he comes from, he circles her neatly, and answers without really telling her anything at all.

Her phone goes off, reminding her of a dinner with Jane, halfway through her story of how she lost her last baby tooth. "Oh, shit. I totally forgot, I have dinner with my sister. I have to go."

He nods once, suddenly serious. "One should always keep their appointments."

"It was really nice talking with you," she says, and finds she means it. "I guess I'll see you around."

"You will," he tells her, pausing with something like hesitation before continuing, "I'll attempt to be here Tuesdays and Thursdays, between four and six in the afternoon. If you would like to speak again."

Her cheeks feel hot, but she manages to keep her voice even as she replies, "I would like that. I'll see you then."

And then curses herself for it all the way home.

She can't tell Jane, can't tell Charlotte, can't tell anyone for that matter, that she's made friends with some weird Fae being that may or may not live in some alternate dimension accessible through Longbourn Park. There's no way anyone would take her seriously, and, worse, Jane would be worried. She can't do that to Jane. No one should do that to Jane.

They talk consistently at least once a week for months. Sometimes he's not there, and sometimes she’s sick or works late. She's glad they never formally agreed to meet at a specific time, as she remembers the look on his face when he spoke about honoring commitments. He's a funny man, and is always nice and polite, even charming with her, but she has a feeling he's not like that with everyone, or even all the time.

However, it starts getting colder out, and then it's generally the time of year she starts driving or taking public transit again, to avoid the snow and ice. She tells him, hesitatingly, that she's not sure she'll be able to keep meeting outside.

He looks around, as if this hadn't occurred to him. "Ah, yes, it is getting colder outside, isn't it?" He's quiet for a moment, and she knows him well enough now to see the gears turning in his head. "Ms. Nobody, if I may ask a question of you?"

"Yes, you may."

"Why do you still hesitate to give me your name?"

The question surprises her. He's stopped asking for it, hasn't asked for it in months. "Um, I don't know. I guess I read that if the Fae know your name, the have power over you."

"And what of refusing to eat what I bring?"

"Isn't it," she's less sure of this, so she pauses while she tries to figure out the phrasing. "I read that if I eat something from the Fae world, I'd have to live there."

He hums. "You are correct in different ways on both issues. I have a solution to our problem, but it requires a certain amount of trust from you."

"What is it?" she asks, wary. "I make no promises.

Smiling, he tells her, "I'd never expect anything else. I would like to court you, formally, if I may."

Her eyes must be wide as saucers. "I'm sorry?"

"I've enjoyed getting to know you, and I dare say you've enjoyed getting to know me. And now I would like to get to know you further, in different settings. A courtship, because I like you, very much."

If she thought meeting a Fae was weird, this is somehow weirder. "And what would that entail?"

"I would need permission to come to your home, and you would need permission to come to my world."

"And how would we do that?" she asks, voice somewhat faint, trying to wrap her head around it all.

His face is serious. "This is where the trust comes in. I would need to know your name, and you would to eat something of my world. I will tell you my real name, and eat something of your world in return."

"I have questions."

That gets a smile out of him. "Of course."

She steels herself. "What power would you having my name give you?"

"If it was not reciprocated, or given without conditions, I could steal you away and compel you to act as I wanted you to," he says. "I am being honest and speaking plainly, something that is not natural for me. However, if I give you my name, we would have the same power over each other, and negate the effects."

Processing the information, she nods. "And what would eating your food do?"

"If you ate enough of it over a certain period of time, you would be unable to leave my world. However, I will give you a single slice of an orange, enough so that the travel between worlds does not make you sick."

"But you're already here," she points out, "why do you need to eat my food?"

"Ah," he laughs a little, "you haven't noticed. For someone so perceptive, I thought you would've."

He points to his feet and, for the first time since she met him, she sees the mushrooms around him. She groans. "You're in a circle."

"Yes. If I wish to leave it, I must have either permission or food. Food is easier." He makes a face. "Is this how humans feel all the time? Speaking plainly is exhausting."

For some reason, his face and admission is what does it for her. "Okay, Darcy, what's your true name?"

He looks somewhat nervous as he introduces himself, "My name is Fitzwilliam, and I give it to you freely."

She smiles. "Fitzwilliam," she says, feeling the rush of magic through her fingers and toes. "My name is Elizabeth. I give it to you freely."

His eyes darken. "Elizabeth."

There's a spark that runs through her, butterflies in her stomach. "Please, don't let me have made a mistake."

"I would not do that to you," he tells her, desperation coloring his tone. “If you -"

Her heart is pounding, fit to burst. "I give you permission to leave the circle."

In a flash, he's in front of her, arms winding around her waist. "Elizabeth," he murmurs, "may I kiss you?"

"Yes," she says, "please."

His lips touch hers, and it feels like coming home.

#sofiewritesthings #pride and prejudice #elizabeth x darcy #elizabeth bennet x fitzwilliam darcy #lizzie x darcy #pride and prejudice fanfic #pride and prejudice fic #covid has done wonders for my productivity lol #with fic to be clear #nothing else #anyway head empty no thoughts just fae darcy etc

24 notes · View notes