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#anyway pray i have some writing brains tomorrow but i also have a
regisraven-a · 1 year
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i will have writing inspo for 3 days straight only to go [cricket noises] for the next six months
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rithmeres · 1 month
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omfgggg last night when i was mostly asleep my brain came up with this incredibly good dream/scenario/concept that is about to make me act unwise (and by act unwise i mean write fanfiction) it was a standard trigun scenario with vash and ww arriving to some town, staying awhile, and then moving on to the next town HOWEVER this town had not seen a priest in almost five years. idk the reason for this they were just very remote and very devout. it started with a girl approaching ww and asking if he could perform a wedding ceremony for her and her husband -- they got married two years ago in the eyes of the law, but they want a real priest to do it for real in the eyes of god also. so the town gets a makeshift wedding together in just a few hours and by that time word has spread to all the few hundred residents, and people of all types are coming to wolfwood with requests for baptisms and christenings and requiems and confession and tomorrow is sunday so why don't you stick around mr priest and give us a proper church service, we'll find some bread and wine for the eucharist and we'll even pay you for your time. and vash just watches wolfwood deal with these people so tenderly, especially the children, but vash hangs back among the crowd like 🧍‍♂️ because this is not his place, he doesn't have the right clothes to wear to church, everybody's lookin at him kinda weird, he doesn't know how to pray and he can't participate in communion but that's ok with him because he doesn't think god would forgive him for all he's done anyway but there was this old man sitting in the back of the pews with him like hello strange tall goth man. god loves you very much. i don't know what your deal is but im going to pray for you. and then when they leave wolfwood puts all the money the town gave him to the church's offering box.
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donnerpartyofone · 2 months
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The little pink brain surrounded by stars and flowers at the end of my computer search bar tells me that it is World Brain Health Day, which is insane but maybe that's appropriate. This was a great year to get my ADHD diagnosis and prescription considering the Very Complicated Things that are happening (mostly fine, just A LOT). I have also become aware that the dose of medical meth that I'm on is helping to manage my severe chronic depression, which is pretty awesome since I have tried what feels like "everything" and nothing really works without some gruesome side effect. The main side effect in this case turns up because I'm working a (roughly) 4 days on, 3 days off schedule as recommended by my doctor to avoid building up a tolerance, and I have begun to notice that on the 2nd-or-so day off I have a bit of a snap-back effect that plunges me into a pit of infinite darkness. It helps to remember that when unmedicated I am OFTEN plunging into a pit of infinite darkness, so this is essentially normal. The most positive version of being unmedicated is that I'm at least "pretty depressed" most of the time, and probably not getting as much done, just schlorping around in a general malaise. Just the getting things done is good for my self-esteem anyway. Work helps too, oddly; when I am completely consumed by a big urgent project, it is hard to find the time and energy to fantasize about being dead. Of course obsessive work causes other kinds of wear and tear, but their negativity is less immediately obvious.
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Today I am doing the Extremely Complicated training process to write for this pop culture website you have probably heard of. When I was picked to do this I thought, "This is probably too much work for not enough money," and now I'm realizing that it is actually WAY too much work for not NEARLY enough money. But it's good for someone like me while I still don't have a real job, so I'm coping with this ordeal of doing the online training, thinking I'm done, doing my first assignment, realizing there was way more of the online training but I just didn't click the right button or something, revising my assignment, submitting it, realizing there's still MORE stuff I should have fixed and racing through the assignment making little changes and clicking Save after every single one of them never knowing when somebody's is going to start evaluating it, and just praying for death the best. Then at the same time I heard back from an event organizer who totally refused to communicate with me for the last two months so I just cancelled on them like two weeks ago, and now they're telling me they're so sorry and can we please do the event, and I have to have an annoying back-and-forth with the tricky third party this is dependent on, and do all this other stuff I'm suddenly too tired to describe. And THEN AT THE SAME TIME AS THAT I got invited to write more writing for the super awesome company that sometimes publishes me, also for not enough money on the hour but they're apologetic about that and the writing matters to me (and so does the company). And this is all great but my stomach has turned into a rock and my back muscles are fossilizing and I'm in breathe-on-purpose mode and I'm regretting how much coffee I drank and I wish I could calm down with a beer or even a joint or something, but the beer will actually increase my meth uptake and the joint will add to my anxiety in this state, and so I just have to grind my teeth through this until the day is done. I wish I could play for you guys the earsplitting power tool sound from right next door that has been echoing through the neighborhood since 8 o'clock this morning, just as like the OST to this whole experience, but you'll just have to imagine it! I also meant to apply for Real Jobs today, but now it seems clear that that's not going to happen until tomorrow. The End...FOR NOW.
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ryuichirou · 8 months
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Some short replies today! I’ll try writing some headcanons tomorrow…
blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:
Your recent Malleus drawing is giving SUCH STRONG learning to flirt and try and seduce Lilia right at the peek of his crush vibes
Honestly your description is very on point lol It does look like his very first attempts to get Lilia to pay attention to him.
Anonymous asked:
Hmm. I see what you mean about Lilia knowing the right poses to accentuate his derrière cause in your latest Lilidia sketch on kofi, his butt be looking curvy 👀
HEHEHE >:3 He knows his strong points, and his butt isn’t one lol So he gotta be smart about how he positions himself.
(loving all the ko-fi asks; thank you so much for your support! <3)
Anonymous asked:
The way you draw Idia, I want to bite him
Ahhh thank you so much <3 This is the emotion that I want people to feel when they look at my Idia……
Anonymous asked:
So... uh... I just had a major neuron activation moment thanks to the internet telling me about the existence of sebejami. I don't think they have many canon interactions, so I've never considered it before, but suddenly the potential dynamic between the "eager but aggressive virgin" and the "not-so-secret masochist who always seems to know what he is doing" is bouncing non-stop around my brain. Life just keeps getting more and more difficult for jamil...
This is mostly me sharing my "revolutionary" discoveries, but if you have any thoughts about them I'd be happy to hear them!
They’re an interesting ship that I talked about briefly in this post, and unfortunately I don’t have much to add as of yet!
But I’ll note that you make a very good point about Jamil’s masochism (both mental and physical). Like, Sebek is undeniably insufferable, but somehow he manages to scratch Jamil’s itch just right, without even realising it.
Anonymous asked:
I think I’m a little too invested in Miu Iruma going to NRC because I already figured out some of the rude-ass nicknames she’d have for everyone:
Idia Shroud: I-dick-a
Ace Trapolla: Fap-olla
Azul Ashengrotto: Ass-engrotto
Ortho Shroud: None, she’s nice to him and him alone! :)
Sebek Zigvolt: Prick-volt
Vil Schoenheit: Shit-heit
She would also make a bunch of cursed inventions and force Idia to listen to her about them because his reactions are so damn funny!
Anyway, I apologize for this cursed message.
Oh god Miu… the best character. The only reason she’s still alive is that Ortho is her bestie 😭 The guys better start praying that Ortho won’t start repeating all those rude-ass nicknames (while still adding “-san” to them of course). Also Poor Idia, his situation is the worst…
Igni mobs were so excited to get a hot girl in their dorm :( and now they’re scared because Ortho is the only one who can handle her.
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tellerluna-stories · 2 years
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episode 03: boss dog to the rescue!
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CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!
TW/CW: there is bread and it is eaten, and it is an important part of the plot. idk how to explain it in a way that doesn't sound absurd,,, BASTA MAY TINAPAY DITO HAHAHAHA
A/N: this chapter is dedicated to the stars to my moon, the lovely @byeol-ssi!! hope you enjoy the fluffiness hehe <33. also!!! I probably won't be able to update regularly for a while because some majour stuff came up irl and I don't think I'll be able to write until everything's settled. thank you for understanding~~
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“Good morning!”
“Do you need help with that?”
“Oh hey, wanna walk to class together?”
“See you tomorrow!”
For the past few weeks (yes, weeks), your ears had been ringing with the sound of barking— er, the chipper sound of Thoma’s voice as he kept hanging around you. You didn’t know exactly why he was so insistent on going out of his way to talk to you, but he didn’t seem to have any ill intentions or ulterior motives, so you let him do whatever he pleased.
…That, and perhaps he had grown on you a little bit. Just a little.
Anyway, today was a weekend, so you wouldn’t see the puppy-boy. The weekend was a precious, precious time for you, whose social battery was easily drained; it was a time you reserved solely for yourself to recuperate after all the stress that the weekdays brought. So on this fine day, you decided to venture into The Great Outdoors on a great and noble quest to purchase the finest rations that a relaxing weekend would require. In this case, that meant freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery.
There was a lively spring to your step as you walked, mouth watering slightly as you thought about all the warm bread that awaited you; normally you preferred to stay indoors and hide from the light of day, but today was different. It was the perfect weather to walk outside— on days like these, the sun’s rays chose to play hide-and-seek over rooftops and through tree-branches, without scorching everything to death and blinding you for no good reason.
Hey, even someone who normally shunned the light of day would want to go outdoors once in a while, right?
You took a deep breath and savoured the gift of your senses; feeling the pleasant contrast between the faint warmth of asphalt through your shoes and the soft breeze that cooled your face, admiring the vibrant colour of lit by sunshine— and most importantly, smelling the bewitchingly sweet aroma of fresh bread that signalled you were close to your destination.
One step, two steps… just a few more paces before you completed your quest.
"Whoa, Taroumarou, slow down! Don’t tug on the leash like that, you’ll hurt yourself—"
You froze in your tracks, your entire body stiffening at the sound of a voice that was unfortunately all-too-familiar. Coming from just around the corner— no, it couldn’t be. You were hallucinating.
“Taroumarou- ugh, don’t pee in that flower-pot! That’s not your toilet!”
(Okay, maybe you weren't hallucinating, because if you were... was it possible to file a complaint to whatever part of your brain was in charge of creating hallucinations? Could you just ask to have this particular hallucination replaced?)
Your heart hammered against your ribs as you tiptoed to peek around the corner, praying fervently that you were mistaken. But still another part of you fluttered anxiously with hope— as to what you were hoping for, it was still unsure.
Blond hair that shone like gold in the sunlight.
Emerald-green eyes framed with long, sun-kissed lashes.
A pair of strong, slender hands that grasped onto the leash of an absolute unit of a fluffy dog, who was blessed with fur that almost matched the colour of his owner’s hair and was almost as fluffy.
Lips that curved into an exasperated smile, gently reprimanding said dog as his owner tried to persuade him to change his choice of toilet.
It was almost comedic, really— just an ordinary student struggling to walk his dog on a fine afternoon, an ordinary scene that you’d pass by without a second thought. On any other day you'd have ignored him and continued to walk through the world in your own protective bubble so you wouldn’t get invested in the lives of other people... yet here you stood, absolutely spellbound by this stranger.
The puppy-boy laughed and shook his head, leaning down to scratch his dog under the chin, and a strange shudder ran down your spine. It was like scales had fallen from your eyes, revealing the Thoma that you had never seen before— or perhaps never wanted to see until now.
Your heart knocked against your ribs, once, twice, and then paused a beat.
“Thoma?”
His name slipped from your lips before you could catch yourself, and the boy eagerly perked up at the sound of his name, just like when you had first met. “Oh, it’s you! I didn’t expect to run into you here.” Thoma tugged on Taroumarou’s leash lightly, gently nudging the dog forward with his foot. “Taroumarou, say hello to my classmate.”
“Ah… hello, Taroumarou.”
The dog trundled towards you, snuffling around your legs and shoes till it was satisfied and gave an approving woof.
“Looks like he likes you,” Thoma grinned, squatting down to scratch Taroumarou behind his ears. “It’s not that easy to get the approval of Boss Dog over here, so you must be quite extraordinary for him to favour you like this.”
“Is that so?” Squatting down at a carefully calculated distance from Thoma (for decency's sake, you rationalised), you leaned closer to peer at Taroumarou’s dark eyes and fluffy cheeks. “Say, Taroumarou, may I pet you?”
(Now, under normal circumstances you'd have retained your more reserved persona around people you weren't close with, but in this case... what could you do? There was a very cute, fluffy dog just within reach, and if it wasn't obvious enough, you had a particular weakness for puppies.)
Boss Dog yipped, and Thoma leaned closer to listen as if he were the dog’s official interpreter. “What was that, boy? Can my- ew, don’t lick inside my ear! Gross!”
Both puppy-boy and puppy toppled onto the pavement as Taroumarou happily jumped up to lick Thoma’s face, and you couldn’t help it, you really couldn’t— you burst into laughter right then and there.
Not the polite, canned laughter that you used around people, no— it was the roaring, dying wheezes of someone who hadn't laughed this much since grade school, and your stomach muscles sorely paid the price for it. You barely stopped yourself from collapsing onto the pavement and howling like a hyena, but it didn't help one bit that the Boss Dog still kept jumping around Thoma like a little imp intent on eating earwax for a snack. Your lungs pleaded for mercy and your face ached from all the smiling, but all you could do was to laugh even harder.
Meanwhile, the source of your laughter froze rigidly, his brain slowly processing what was going on as Taroumarou frisked around him. It was the first time he’d ever seen you smile, let alone burst into a fit of laughter that had you whacking your palm against the concrete and tears rolling down your face.
Well, technically it wasn’t the first time, but still— the smiling, giggling version of you that stood before him now, it was because of something he (and Taroumarou) did. You were smiling because of him.
“Ah- I’m sorry.” You wheezed, brushing a stray tear from your eye. “I promise I wasn’t laughing because you fell. It just was so funny to see Taroumarou hopping around like that…”
“Yeah, yeah, I get you there.” Thoma’s face lit up eagerly, his own nonexistent tail wagging behind him. “But he’s not always this crazy, I promise! He’s usually more well-behaved.”
“It’s alright.” Smiling, you scratched Taroumarou behind his ears and reveled in the fluffiness of the Boss Dog. “He seems to be a good boy, whether he’s frisking around or being polite. Aren’t you, Taroumarou?”
Thoma’s furry look-alike rubbed his cheek against your leg and yipped happily. Letting someone from school see you like this was out of character for you, but for some reason you didn’t care anymore.
It suddenly occurred to you that you had no idea on how to proceed from here; you had greeted your classmate, laughed in his face, and from there… what did people even do when they encountered an acquaintance outside of a school or work setting? You didn’t know the standard procedures, but you were pretty sure that it required small talk and some sort of food.
Speaking of food... you'd almost forgotten the reason why you had set out on this journey today.
"Do you like bread?" You suddenly blurted out, realising how stupid the question sounded as soon as it left your mouth (ah, your gift for eloquence was truly unmatched). "There's a good bakery nearby, and they usually bring out the batch for the evening around this time."
Taroumarou perked up at the suggestion, while Thoma's eyebrows shot up in interest. "As a matter of fact, I do like bread. Even more so when it's fresh."
Your mind went completely blank. You had no idea you’d get this far, so now what were you supposed to do?
“That’s good!” Stiffly, you jumped to your feet and marched off in what was hopefully the right direction. "It’s this way.”
Behind you, the dog and his owner exchanged glances before Taroumarou lurched forward. With a strength that could've rivalled King Arthur himself when he pulled out the sword Excalibur, the Boss Dog practically dragged Thoma to follow after you.
“Taroumarou, wait!” Thoma stumbled, just barely catching the leash that nearly slipped out of his hands. “You’re acting really weird today, boy…”
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If only you could go back in time and smack your past self. Or say thank you. You no longer knew which one was the more practical option.
For some reason, you had thought it was a great idea to share your closest-guarded secret, the source of all baked goods divine… with a puppy boy. A very nice, friendly puppy-boy who you could admit was not bad-looking, but he was still an outsider.
A piping-hot bag of assorted bread sat on the little portion of bench between you and Thoma, effectively acting as a barrier to prevent your sanity from disintegrating completely. The look the owner had given you when you’d arrived with a pretty boy in tow was embarassing enough as it was.
This was supposed to be a quiet, peaceful afternoon, you lamented as you nibbled on a piece of bread. You could barely taste it.
“Whoa, the bread here is delicious!” Thoma exclaimed, blissfully oblivious to your inner turmoil. He tore off a tiny piece and tossed it to the ground for Taroumarou to taste. “Here boy, let me know what you think.”
Judging from the way the Boss Dog greedily licked up the little chunk of bread, this bakery also had his paw-print of approval.
“Well, uh… I’m glad you like it.“ You felt the eyes of the store-owner lasering in on you from all the way behind the counter— as far as you knew, she was just an excellent baker who gave you discounts for being a regular, but the fact that you could feel the intensity of her gaze from where you sat outside the bakery made you question if she was secretly some sort of superhuman. “Not a lot of people know about this place, so it’s rarely crowded.”
“You’re joking, right? This place is a hidden gem.”
"In a way, it's also a blessing in disguise. No crowds, no long lines..." Sighing in contentment, you slumped against the back of the bench a là shrimp posture. "I kept this place a secret ever since I found it, just so that it would stay that way. Haven't told a soul."
You froze the minute the words left your mouth; saying it like that might imply that you were entrusting some important secret of yours with Thoma. What if he misunderstood your intentions and thought you were flirting with him? That had been an unfortunately common problem among all your advice-seekers, and it would be humiliating to have to clear up the misunderstanding after you'd scolded so many people for doing the exact same thing.
“Yeah, I kinda understand why.” Thoma mused, his attention wholly fixed on his food. If he had misunderstood you, he showed no signs of it. “Seriously, this is amazing— I should take notes for the next time I bake bread.”
“…You can bake?”
“Yep. It’s kind of like my hobby, along with cooking and cleaning.”
The most absurd image come to mind— ‘Everyone’s Thoma’ opening a window while dressed in full housekeeping gear, complete with rubber gloves and a handkerchief to keep his hair out of his face. You briefly wondered if he was the type to wield a feather duster or a broom as his weapon of choice (for cleaning, of course).
Come to think of it, today was the first time you’d seen him outside of school. In school he was always well-behaved and a perfect gentleman, the dreamy student who everyone adored. It was Thoma’s natural disposition to behave the way he did on campus, but… there was something that was just a touch off from his usual self.
"You seem more relaxed today," You remarked, eyeing the boy who sat next to you. Taroumarou eagerly sniffed the ground, tangling his leash around your shins in his search for fallen crumbs.
"Well, I do suppose so. Weekends are a way for me to destress from the weekdays and all the worries that come with it." He replied, munching thoughtfully on the piece of bread. "I don't want to sound ungrateful for the things I have but... there are a lot of people who have expectations for me, and I don't want to let those people down."
Oh.
You'd had the impression that Thoma was just some generic popular boy who all the students swooned and sighed for, like the male love interest straight out of a cheesy high-school romance story— but apparently you had misjudged him.
Similar to your reputation as a relationship counselor, being 'Everyone's Thoma' was a burden, though one laden with good intentions and well-wishes from others. Because he always looked after everyone and brought joy to hearts of people around him, it became something those people began to take for granted and then even expect from him. It never crossed their minds that sometimes, the person who did all of these things might get worn out; in that sense, he wasn't so different from you, except that it was only even further magnified because of how many people looked up to him.
You had the privilege of slinking into the shadows and disappearing unnoticed, while Thoma... didn't.
Shame flushed hot in your face, gnawing at your stomach with pointy little fangs of guilt. "It must be tiring to deal with all of that."
"Ah, well... not most of the time. It only gets particularly draining on my bad days." Thoma popped the last of his bread into his mouth and smiled cheerfully, as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’.
The people who tell you not to worry about how they feel are usually the ones you should worry about most, you incorrigible pup.
Of all the people and relationships you'd seen and encountered, it always was the ones who disregarded their own feelings who suffered the most. You'd seen one too many girls weeping over a foolish lover not worth their time, pushing their feelings of hurt and grief deep down inside just because they thought that that was how it was to be in love. It was the same with friendships, and in Thoma's case too; if one person disregards their own feelings of stress and emotional pain in order to please the other party, then there was a high chance that the relationship wouldn't last unless something was done about those feelings.
"You know, every once in a while you should live your life for yourself. It wouldn't do you any harm to take care of yourself first."
The words were almost the same as what you had told many of the advice-seekers who begged for your assistance. Take care of yourself first, prioritise yourself— you'd said it so many times till the phrase was hollowed out into an empty formality, lingering on the tip of your tongue like a bitter pill. Over time, your advice became a poison that numbed the senses of the one who gave it out.
But for some reason, you had a faint notion that things had changed.
"Well, this is just my opinion, and well... I don't..." You scratched the back of your head, trying to think of the right words to say. "I don't know if I understand your situation entirely, so I may get things wrong."
He smiled as he fished for a new piece of bread, the corners of his eyes crinkling up like freshly-bloomed flower petals in a way that sent an electric shock tingling down your spine. "It's alright, really. I'd like to hear your thoughts on it anyway."
"You're- well... you're kinda like this bread."
Brilliant. Harvard would be begging on their knees for you to attend their university if they heard you now.
All three of you stared at the half-bitten piece of bread in your hand, although the expression on Taroumarou’s face looked more hungry than anything. Judging from the extremely judgemental aura radiating from behind, the owner had also overheard you.
"How…” Thoma blinked uncertainly. “How am I supposed to take that?"
"As a compliment...?" At that moment, you wanted nothing more but to melt through the ground to be absorbed into plant food. That way you could at least contribute to the well-being of any future ecosystems and make something worthwhile out of your embarassing existence.
The Boss Dog nudged Thoma’s ankle and whined softly, giving you a beady side-eye that would’ve made a grown man cry; compared to his master, Taroumarou was certainly not as merciful to your feelings.
"…Uh, would it be too much for me to assume that you're implying I'm a snack?"
"What— no! That's not what I meant." You spluttered furiously, flailing your hands about as you tried to deny any existence of an unintentional pick-up line. "That wasn’t my intention at all, I promise!”
He snorted and turned his face away, using the bread in his hand to act as a shield (like that would have done anything to conceal his laughter.) “No worries, I’m just joking. I figured you didn’t mean it like that… unless you actually did—“
“Don’t remind me!”
“Haha, alright, alright. I’ll let you finish.” Thoma lowered his bread to reveal a lopsided grin, a slightly teasing lilt to his tone of voice. His golden hair floofed up like a little cloud, giving him the illusion of two puppy-dog ears sprouting from the top of his head.
Cute, a small part of you remarked.
Once you realised what you had just dared to think, your plans to become compost were immediately placed at the top of your priority list. That’s it, you were definitely losing it and it was all his fault.
“Anyway, as I was saying.” You cleared your throat and gestured to your piece of bread. “You’re like this bread.”
“How so, prof?” He shifted to face you, crossing his legs and propping his chin on his hands like he was listening to a teacher. Emerald-green eyes sparkled with such attentiveness that it was starting to make you feel embarassed all over again, which was not helpful at all.
“…Do you want the long or short explanation?”
“I’d like the short explanation, please.”
“You- well…” It was somewhat awkward to say it aloud, but you had already dug your grave and now was the time to lie in it. “I don’t know exactly how to phrase it, but you sort of have the aura of fresh-baked bread. Like... when you’re around other people.”
Thoma’s eyebrows shot up in confusion, his nonexistent ears flopping to one side as he tilted his head. Taroumarou followed the example of his master, looking at you with such adorable confusion that you almost lost your cool. The audacity of these puppies to be so cute…
Luckily your counselor side took over before you had another meltdown, allowing you to continue without incident. “I think that’s what makes people gravitate to you so easily. Do you see how everyone swarms to buy bread in the cafeteria when there’s a fresh batch?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s always difficult to buy anything during that time.”
Your brain was running on fumes at this point— just what exactly had been your point here? It had been quite some time since you’d counselled someone and you hadn’t had the time to prepare yourself as you usually did. The expectant look on Thoma’s face as he gazed intently at you… well, needless to say, it was not helping your thinking process.
But you wanted to at least tell him something that would make him feel better; you didn’t know why, or how you would do it, but you just knew that you wanted to do it.
And fine, maybe you were just a bit worried about him. Call it sympathy from one reliable person to another.
“The thing is… you’re not just some object that can just be pushed around and argued over like the cafeteria bread. You have thoughts and needs just like everyone else, and I don’t think it’d be particularly fair to yourself if you kept pushing those aside for what everyone else wants you to be.” You said quietly, lowering your hand. “You may be similar to freshly-baked bread, but that doesn’t mean you always have to keep giving your time and effort to other people."
Thoma didn’t reply, merely continuing to look at you with an odd, melancholic expression on his face. One finger slowly tapped against his cheek, tracing absent-minded circles there as he gazed into your eyes.
“Ah- I’m sorry. I think I overstepped there.” Hastily you shoved your bread into your mouth, focusing all of your effort on chewing and swallowing so that you wouldn’t have to deal with reality. Without even realising it, you’d slipped into complete counselor mode while talking to him— it seemed that your old habits still remained.
“There’s no need to apologise.” One side of his mouth quirked up into a wry grin. “I was just thinking about what you said, that’s all.”
“If anything about what I said was incorrect, I apologise for assuming. Just- I suppose you can forget about it.”
“No, it actually made me really happy to hear that.” Thoma replied, the little smile on his face growing even further. “Just as I thought, I really am in good hands when I’m with you. Thank you for looking out for me.”
Your face burned hotter than an oven; this puppy-boy really was out for your neck, wasn’t he.
“Ah, the bread’s almost gone! Here, have another piece— you’ve barely eaten anything.”
A piece of bread was promptly thrust in your hands, still warm to the touch— though you had to admit that it wasn’t as warm as the feeling spreading in your chest. Thoma crossed his arms with an air of satisfaction, looking like a proud housewife who had just fed her guests with her hard efforts.
It almost made you want to burst out laughing all over again.
This side of him is definitely different, you decided. But it was a nice side to discover, one that made him a little more human than all the achievements and gushing flattery that were attached to him by others.
Unconsciously, you smiled a little as you bit into the bread he had given you. Oddly enough, it seemed to taste better than when you'd sit on this very bench and eat in solitude— perhaps there was some merit to the saying that food tasted better with company.
"Hey, I just thought of something." Thoma said aloud, nudging Taroumarou slightly with his foot in order to stretch his legs.
"What is it?"
"When you explained the sort of aura I have around other people, I started thinking about what kind of feeling you would have. I've come to the conclusion that you're just like this bakery."
"...How am I even supposed to take that?"
"Well, same as yours. It's a compliment." A different facial expression crept on his features— a look that you almost would've described as sly, if it weren't for how angelic his face naturally looked. To you, it was both amusing and unnerving at the same time.
You paused mid-bite to give him an unimpressed stare. “At least I explained why I thought you were like bread. Where’s your explanation?”
Thoma hummed softly, an amused look in his eyes as he rocked back and forth in his seat. “Maybe another time.”
“Well that’s unfair.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll definitely explain it to you. Boss Dog here is our witness.”
Taroumarou barked in agreement, wagging his tail eagerly as he eyed the bread in your hand. You finished off your bread with a resigned sigh, accepting your fate; maybe making you squirm was just another part of Thoma’s personality.
Quietly, you admired Taroumarou for a few moments, running your fingers through his soft fur and savouring the fluffiness against your fingertips; a small part of you wondered if Thoma’s hair was fluffier, but you quickly dismissed the intrusive thought.
Still, your fingers twitched impulsively as you stole glances at Thoma’s loose, fluffy locks, and you decided that perhaps it was best for you to retire before you did anything rash. You already had several close calls today, and you didn't want to create any more memories that would cause you to scream into your pillow at night from sheer embarrassment.
“Sorry, but I can't stay too long. It's already getting late.” You brushed off the crumbs from your clothes and stood up.
“Oh... I see.” He looked almost regretful at the thought of you leaving (or perhaps it was just your wishful thinking). “In that case, don’t let me keep you.”
“It was… nice to see you today.” The words were no empty formality, you realised; you had genuinely enjoyed getting to see him today. And even more strange was the fact that your social battery was still full, perhaps even revitalised after running into Thoma and Taroumarou.
“Likewise.” Taroumarou yipped happily as Thoma did a little salute and grinned, sending your heart skipping like a lovesick school-girl’s. “Boss Dog says it was nice to see you, too.”
"Ah, um... if it's possible, could I see Taroumarou once in a while?"
"Just Taroumarou?"
You turned back and stared at him, completely lost on how to even respond to that question.
"Ah, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to." Thoma leaned back against the wall and gave you an amused smile, a perfect picture of relaxation in the fading sunlight. "I always walk him around this area, so maybe you can see him the next time you go out for bread."
“That- that’s a great idea.” You gave him an awkward thumbs-up in response, cringing at how stiff you sounded. Something in your chest melted into a mushy, gooey puddle as soon as Thoma tilted his head to face you, his sparkly puppy-boy eyes in full effect.
"We should do this again sometime. Taroumarou really seemed to enjoy getting bread with you today." He lightly shook Boss Dog's leash and patted him on the head. "As did I, of course."
His sincerity took you off-guard, as it always did; how could he live like that, with his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see? Yet at the same time, it didn’t seem like such a terrible way to live.
If all he had given you was his honesty, then it was only fair that you pay him back in a like manner— that was how you rationalised it, anyway.
“…Hey, Thoma.” The following words sat heavily on your tongue like a lump of iron; you weren’t sure if you were close enough for you to say something so… brazen.
"Yes?" A soft smile bloomed over his features, his eyes aglow with warmth that made your heart skip in strange ways and filled you with a strange, reckless courage; did Thoma always smile so gently when he looked at you?
"See you on Monday." You finished the outrageous statement with what hopefully passed for a friendly smile, and waved goodbye. Before Thoma could answer, you scampered off, your stomach twisting in knots as your words burned themselves into your auditory memory permanently— oh, you really hoped you didn’t just embarass yourself. “You can have the rest of the bread!”
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The Boss Dog wondered why his subordinate sat there for such an extraordinarily long time, an unmoving statue even as Taroumarou wriggled himself into Thoma’s lap. His eyes remained dazed and unfocused despite Taroumarou’s best efforts to rouse Thoma from his stupor— what a strange boy. Was Thoma behaving this way because of the other human?
He tilted his head and sneezed, the scent of bread wafting temptingly in his nostrils; Taroumarou was a dignified dog of noble breeding who scorned to behave in a way that was beneath one of his pedigree, but for the sake of his subordinate he had nobly sacrificed his dignity in order to gain extra time with the strange human. Begging for crumbs, yanking on his leash in an undignified manner, even going so far to stall for time by peeing on a flower-pot when he had smelled the nice human from around the corner. Taroumarou recognised the scent from all the times his subordinate came home from school with a giddy smile on his face, the distinct smell of that particular human still lingering on his uniform.
Everything he had done was all because Thoma had seemed so happy when he saw that person— if his subordinate had been a dog, his tail would’ve been wagging non-stop. But now Thoma was very still, like one of those garishly-painted statues in the garden that Taroumarou had deemed as his sworn enemies.
The Boss Dog thought long and hard, pondering as to what could have brought his subordinate into such a state; could it be that this was Thoma’s first time courting?
Well, that seemed to be the only logical answer; the only other answer that Taroumarou could think of was that Thoma really had become one of those urban nightmares also known as the garden gnome. The Boss Dog whimpered slightly— he didn't like that notion at all.
He nudged Thoma’s arm once more, desperately hoping that his efforts would not be in vain. Finally, just when Taroumarou was about to bring out his genius last resort (which was to pee in Thoma’s lap) in order to save his subordinate from an eternity spent as a statue, Thoma spoke.
“Taroumarou, boy…” A strange, giddy smile curved upwards on Thoma’s face, the thrumming of his heartbeat reverberating through his entire body. “I think I’m in big trouble.”
Taroumarou rolled his eyes in a mixture of relief and disgust, nuzzling his snout into the crook of Thoma’s knee. Humans were strange creatures.
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mercy-burning · 3 years
Text
Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538
SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You
FEBRUARY 13th
It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.
Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.
And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.
Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.
Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.
Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.
"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.
"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."
"That boy still on your mind, hon?"
Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"
There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."
"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."
"You weren't going to?"
"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."
Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"
Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."
"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."
The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.
Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.
But it just felt like it was too soon.
Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.
Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...
Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.
And that was putting it lightly.
Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.
And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.
She almost thought about taking them down.
But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.
And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.
FEBRUARY 14th
She promptly decided that she hated his guts.
It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.
"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."
"Yeah!"
Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.
Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"
"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.
Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.
Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.
So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.
Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.
Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.
Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.
Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.
Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.
Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.
But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.
"Y/N?"
Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.
"Spencer! You answered!"
"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"
"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."
"You're not outside, are you?"
"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."
There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.
"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.
FEBRUARY 15th
Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.
Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.
His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.
But of course it was never that simple.
Y/N was never that simple.
He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.
Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.
But again, it was never that simple.
It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.
Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.
Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.
Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.
He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.
Guilt.
And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.
All she had to do was talk.
He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.
That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.
So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?
He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.
He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.
It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.
So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.
Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.
He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.
***
Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.
Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.
And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.
Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.
Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...
And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.
He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.
Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.
But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.
Maybe I could hide...
He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.
His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.
"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"
The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.
Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."
"You're never a bother."
That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.
His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.
He needed to get out of there.
"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."
"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"
Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.
Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."
"You sure?"
This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.
"I—I'm sure. Really."
"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."
"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."
She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.
"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."
He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.
She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.
It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.
She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.
Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...
He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.
The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.
"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.
Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.
"Screw breakfast."
Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.
Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.
He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.
She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.
The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.
So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.
"Fuck me..."
There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...
But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.
It was all he'd ever known.
All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.
And his hands were just as destructive.
Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.
His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.
But as always, Y/N was insatiable.
She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.
"I need you, baby, please..."
Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.
Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.
That's how they always were.
Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...
A distraction.
And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.
It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.
So they simply burned and burned and burned...
Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.
Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.
And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.
Even still, no fire can burn forever.
All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...
It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.
She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.
Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."
"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.
So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."
The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.
Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"
"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.
She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.
It was guilt.
Regret.
Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.
When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.
The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.
So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.
Maybe this time really was different.
Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.
"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."
But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.
He almost sunk to his knees right there...
Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...
It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.
But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.
Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.
So, he settled on, "You're welcome."
He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.
Maybe this time it would stick.
Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.
And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.
***
Neither of them could sleep that night.
While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.
The same constellation caught their eye.
Columba.
The Dove.
She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.
Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.
The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.
All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...
It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.
I love her...
He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.
Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.
Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.
And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?
“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”
***
SERIES TAGLIST:   @reidyoulikeabook​ @yourmisosoup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @bellzo17​ @altsvu​ @flipperpenguins​ @mcumorningstar​
TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch
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ruewrites · 3 years
Text
Kinktober 2021 Day 7: Breeding
AO3
Ship: Solomon/Asmo
Word Count: 1212
Warnings: Smut
A/N: Alternate titles to this include: "Solomon Realizes he has a Breeding Kink" and "Asmo Loses his Fucking Mind because his Boyfriend has a Breeding Kink". I had a lot of fun writing this one and I'm really happy with how it turned out. (I've had this one done for a looooong time). I hope you guys like it! Comments are appreciated!
Solomon’s hands slipped through Asmo’s hair as they cuddled together on the couch. Asmo was in between his legs, head on his chest, soft hums leaving his mouth whenever Solomon touched him in a particularly nice way.
“Hey,” Asmo’s voice was dripping with mischievous intent, “Wanna hear something funny?”
Solomon looked down at him and quirked his eyebrow.
Asmo climbed him to get close to his ear, his breath hot as he giggled, “Lord Diavolo has a breeding kink.”
What.
What.
Solomon jerked away and gave Asmo a stern look, his lips starting to form a frown, “And what exactly is so funny about that?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a hint that this really wasn’t a topic that Solomon was entirely interested in pursuing. Asmo had done things like this before to get him in the mood, it wasn’t a secret. He used to do it more to try to try to weasel his way into finding out Solomon’s own kinks, or he would do it just to get a reaction.
Asmo shrugged and settled back down to nuzzle into Solomon's neck. "I just think the drunken conversations we have are fun."
"Don't you think that's a bit invasive? I mean, he is your brother's boyfriend."
Solomon had no such interest in thinking about Lord Diavolo and Lucifer engaging in such matters. Ever.
Asmo ignored him and continued on, "I think it makes sense him being the next in line for the throne and all. I mean, I usually peg royalty types as having some sort of breeding kink with carrying along the bloodline."
Solomon knew what the next words out of Asmo's mouth would be before he uttered them, "Do you have a breeding kink Solomon?"
Oh haha, very funny. Yes he had been royalty at one point, and he had had plenty of wives. Solomon knew where Asmo's thoughts were heading. Surely he would tease him about the idea. Tease him about how he might think about stuffing him and filling him up as his thoughts boiled down to basic-
His dick twitched.
Wait.
Oh.
Oh no.
Solomon was hoping, praying Asmo didn’t notice. But of course fortune wouldn’t be on his side. Why would it? Asmo's eyes widened as he stared up at Solomon. Then his lips cracked into a wolfish grin.
“Oh. My. God. No way.”
“Asmo-”
“You have a breeding kink!”
“Asmo please”
Asmo's giggles filled the room. Solomon knew he wasn't mocking him. No. He was thinking about the implications for himself. Yet Solomon couldn't help himself from covering his mouth and turning away from his boyfriend.
"My Solomon, my boyfriend, wants to see me all stuffed up with his lineage."
Was it too late to ask to be struck down by a higher power?
"I can't say I quite enjoy the idea of what would happen to my figure."
Please. Right now. His body had betrayed him, and Solomon was completely and utterly offended.
"Buuuuut-" slender fingers gripped around his jaw and tilted him until he was looking directly into stunning sunset eyes, "If my King would like it-"
Oh the heat that shot straight to his abdomen. Every last ounce of blood that was left in his brain fled straight to his dick. Asmo knew him well, and he played that card on purpose.
"I suppose I could play along." His hand switched from gripping, to gently tickling the underside of his jaw. He was losing his grip, and he had no doubt that Asmo was aware. The fight going on within him was a losing battle
His hands grabbed for Asmo who let out a squeal as he was pulled in for a punishing kiss. Solomon ground up into him chasing any little bit of friction he could find. Asmo moaned into him, deft fingers going towards the zipper of his pants as Solomon scrambled with pulling his own down.
The fact that Solomon was desperate from words alone would definitely have Asmo pleased with himself.
Solomon not being able to become completely undressed before he started fucking him was going to have him smug for the next few days, even if he couldn't walk straight.
"Are you going to fill me, your Queen, with all your little heirs, my King?"
How Asmo could still manage to purr into his ear was a mystery on it's own. But Solomon couldn't deny the deep, throaty groan that escaped him at his words nor that his hips had snapped even harder at the very idea.
Asmo. Sitting perfect as ever. But with his child.
Possible? No. Not that Solomon knew of anyways.
But some primal urge coaxed him on to thrust deeper, harder.
What basic carnal desires had turned him into this? A day ago he would have laughed if someone told him he'd be completely undone, trying to breed his boyfriend on the living room floor, lacking the control to even get him upstairs into the bedroom or even back onto the couch after they tumbled off.
His jaw was clenched, sweat dripping from his brow. He could vaguely hear Asmo cry out and beg beneath him. Had he cum? Solomon knew somewhere in his mind he was lost, his consciousness was but a silent observer to the pleasure, to filling the demon beneath him.
That was until Asmo moved his chin, looking Solomon in the eyes.
"You know, I've changed my mind," his perfectly manicured fingers moved to touch the smooth expanse of his stomach, exposed by his sweater which had ridden up to his chest, "I think I'd look rather nice carrying around your offspring."
Solomon's mind went white. He didn't even know he had the ability to cum as hard as he did.
When he came to, his body was still shaking, breath heavy as Asmo's nails traced circles into his back, a soft hum rumbling from his chest.
Soft laughter caused him to raise his head to look down at Asmo, "I still can't believe my Solomon has a breeding kink."
"You do seem to unlock interesting things from inside of me."
"It gets you inside of me that's for sure."
Solomon rolled his eyes playfully before letting himself fall on top of Asmo, gently kissing along the side of his neck and licking over a rather large hickey he hadn't even been aware he had made.
Suddenly Asmo stopped tracing circles and tapped on his back. "You know, it never hurts to go more than once."
Solomon raised his head once more, looking down at Asmo curiously.
"I mean, you want to make sure that you have an heir for your throne right?"
How was he already stirring again?
"And I'm not sure if anything stuck my King."
Before Asmo even got to wink, Solomon was already scooping him up into his arms and carrying him off into the bedroom.
"Oh and other surfaces too! And I've also read certain positions could help! And-'
"You are insatiable," Solomon teased, pecking Asmo's lips, "How do you even intend on walking to your classes tomorrow?"
"Don't need to walk to class if I'm in bed all day with you," Asmo sang, walking his fingers up Solomon's chest.
His offer might just be too tempting to refuse.
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sneezefiction · 4 years
Text
answers
oikawa x reader
desc: oikawa changes some lyrics in taylor swift’s song “love story”
a/n: please keep in mind that most of this is just humorous & there’s no serious characterization in this particular story. i laughed a lot while writing it :,,) for @cutiekawa because you gave me the idea; thank you for that! and also for @seroto-rin because this is very similar to your husband’s lyric changing habits lol – i still laugh whenever i think about it <3 warnings: language, mentions drinking/being drunk
wc: 3k
— It’s 2 am when you hear Oikawa pattering down the hallway and past your room. From the gentle footsteps and the occasional whisper of “shit” when the floor creaks, it's obvious that he’s trying to stay quiet.
But his attempts are in vain because, one, you’re wide awake and, two, he’s just knocked over an empty beer can from earlier. It was probably the one he’d left on the hall table – you’d told him to throw it away but he’d refused saying that he’d “throw it away in the morning when his arms weren’t so tired.” 
This is just karma.
The clatter of the aluminum on wooden floors echoes throughout the dorm. A much louder, especially frustrated, “fuck” follows right after it.
The word, though crass, sounds deceptively attractive on his tongue. But most things Oikawa-related just happen to be attractive. 
You muffle your laughter with a blanket. He’s probably disoriented from the alcohol – it’s only been an hour and 5 drinks each since you both called it a night. You’d headed straight to bed but he’d fallen asleep on the couch where you left him, hair a-mess and lips parted.
But, for someone who used to stay out till daybreak on weekends, he’s spent most Fridays hanging out with you instead.
This weekend was no different.
Oikawa ordered Thai takeout, you found a mindless Netflix series to binge, both of you had a little too much to drink, laughter ensued, the doe-eyed boy found his head in your lap, and…
You pull a face – one that goes unseen because of the dark, but you make it anyway.
Okay, that last part was a little different.
He’d had his head in your lap.
His head… in your… lap.
And, if you’re not mistaken (or delirious), you’d had your hands in his hair, twirling strands and tracing circles at the base of his neck. A foggy image of him gazing up at you with softened eyes, deep chocolate in color, begins to solidify. 
That lazy smile, a hand on your thigh, tresses tickling your skin...
You turn over in your bed, bunching up your sheets and holding them close to you like a shield of fabric — a flimsy, make-shift defense against tipsy mind-wandering. It isn’t very effective.
Your brain is not wandering but racing around this hand-in-hair realization.
Like an iron rod poking at hot embers, these prodding memories make your cheeks grow hotter by the millisecond. You bury your face in your pillow, embarrassment tight in your throat. 
Somehow you’d forgotten that he’d practically climbed into your lap. You’re not in the clear quite yet, but your brain is functioning well enough that it wishes you’d had a little more to drink – just enough to forget about it entirely. You starfish out on your bed, arms and legs dramatically splayed across the mattress.
Do (hot, charming, charismatic, windswept) flatmates usually get this... cuddly? Is that normal?
Does Iwaizumi wrap his arms around his roomies after a long day and a few bottles? How about Mattsun? Makki…?
Okay, no, none of them really seem like the type to get up close and personal with their roommates without good reason. Well, maybe Makki, but he’d do it to be a pain in the ass – not to charm the living-hell out of someone.
You try to take in a deep breath and wrap your head around what this means for you… but end up inhaling a feather from your pillow instead. As you hack and cough, you try to smother the noise in more cloth material – you really didn’t need him coming into your room, much less leaning over your bed to check on you.
Oikawa is messing with your head. 
If you knew any better, you’d have run away screaming the moment he’d asked you to room with him. No one that pretty and charismatic is good news. At least, not when it comes to shared housing.
But, here you are, writhing under the covers and hot like a fever all because he couldn’t keep to himself. Screw him and his charming smile for putting you in this position.
He either knows you’re crushing like he’s the last man on earth or he’s blissfully unaware and way too physically affectionate for his own good. 
You don’t dare consider that he likes you back though. Only deer and Olympic athletes made leaps like that. Oikawa had too many admirers… an irritating amount.
The blankets scrunch even tighter between your fists, likely thanking their maker that they don’t have nerve endings.
Every fiber of your being is begging to know if these feelings are reciprocated. You’d hate to live out the rest of this semester knowing the boy down the hall may not like you back. Worse, that he finds out you think he’s hot shit and doesn’t like you back – that would be unrequited love at its finest.
But, with a degree and your mental health on the line, why should you care about such minor, itty bitty, pointless details. 
This isn’t that big a deal.
And even if he did like you back? Well, Oikawa isn’t someone you can simply “pin down.” He comes with a distinctive, dramatic personality and a meddling side. Not to mention, he’s already the embodiment of chaos – he’s proven this to be true over the past 4 months he’s lived with you.
There’s a familiar squeak of the shower faucet handle and the hiss of hot water. You jump at the sound.
Maybe he’d forgotten, but your bedroom shares a very thin wall with the bathroom. Though you recall him saying he wanted to take a shower earlier, so you guess that he’s only just remembered.
You pick up your phone, blue light casting a less-than angelic glow on your sleepy face. You pray that TikTok will have some sort of life-changing “I’m in love with my hot, crazy flatmate” advice. Or that it will distract you from your inner turmoil. Either would be appreciated but the latter seems more likely.
Scrolling slowly, you get through about 3 videos before something else catches your attention.
There’s a deep reverberation buzzing through your wall. A gentle hum, much like a shower-concert lullaby.
But the noise is getting louder. And the humming? A lot more lyrical.
You shift into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your hands. With your side sunken into a pillow, you press your ear against the cool drywall. Your ears tune into the sound.
Oikawa, voice confident and free, is… singing.
“...But you were everything to me, I was begging you ‘please don’t go’…”
But he’s not just singing.
“And I said…”
He’s belting Taylor Swift with the enthusiasm of an 11-year-old Swiftie super-fan. Like the world would end if he didn’t put enough passion into this performance. Like the showerhead is his microphone and the surrounding tiles are his adoring audience.
“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run...”
Most people would be pissed if their friend were singing in the shower at 2 am… but you can’t find it in yourself to be anything but enamored.
God, you hate him for doing this right now. Hate that he’s inadvertently endearing you to him. Hate that, no matter what you do, he’s somehow always there.
Pressed up against you on the couch, meeting you for dinner at his favorite restaurant, fussing at each other over a shitty cup of coffee in your even shittier kitchen, calling you when he needs somebody to keep him company at the library… 
“You'll be the prince & I'll be the princess…”
And now he’s accidentally serenading you with Taylor’s “Fearless” album. In the shower.
You facepalm, sinking into your hands, exasperated and just so… done.
You sink back down into the bedsheets, wishing your earbuds were nearby to drown out the regrettably adorable performance. 
“It's a love story y/n, just say ‘Yes.’”
And your heart drops, panic setting in like the touch down of a whirling tornado. A fire tornado. A fire tornado with frogs and lizards and sharp objects spinning around inside of it.
What… did he just say?
The lyrics… they were muffled. You definitely heard them incorrectly. You… you just need to get your ears checked. Yes, that’s it. That’s all there is to it. You’ll schedule an appointment first thing tomorrow morning.
Because who the fuck sings like that at 2 am in a shared dorm? And who the fuck puts someone else’s name into a song like that? No one? Yes, no one.
Especially not the Oikawa Tooru.
And especially not with your name.
Because that’s just... weird.
The grip on your phone is mighty – thank God for durable glass because any other material would’ve splintered or shattered in your hold. 
But what the hell.
“Y/n, save me, I've been feeling so alone,” he sings as though he were Beyoncé’s son.
This time it’s clear as day. Oikawa is definitely still out of it and he’s undoubtedly singing your name.
No, no, no.
“I keep waiting for you but you never come…”
You bolt out of bed, feet hitting the floor at lightning-strike speed.
“Is this in my head? I don't know what to think,”
In one swift movement, you fling the bedroom door open and rush down the hall. You shouldn’t be listening to this. 
“He knelt to the ground & pulled out a ring, and said...”
And before you can stop your hand, it’s knocking rapidly on the bathroom door.
There’s a gasp, what you assume to a bar of soap hitting the shower floor, and an abrupt silence that follows.
You’d only wanted to stop him from singing.
However, you hadn’t thought through what you were going to say to him about this whole... lyrical mess. Your face feels like the surface of the sun, burning and flaring and flushing. What are you supposed to do now?
Oikawa speaks up, voice quiet, “Hello?”
Shit.
Maybe if you’re careful you can get yourself out of this. Just act like you didn’t hear anything and bring it up tomorrow when you’re both thinking straight. A thorough and sober discussion would be needed.
You had questions. Questions that needed answers.
Why did he have his head in your lap? Had you said anything to him that you’d regret later? Does he like you? Where should you two place your boundaries if he doesn’t like you back? And why Taylor Swift?
“Y/n, is that you?” He asks, nonchalantly.
Who else would it be?
The handle squeaks and, with that, the water stops. Only the gentle swirl of the drain and the occasional drips and drops from the showerhead are audible.
It’s too late. You’re already there. You’ve knocked and, in doing so, you’ve sealed your fate.
“...Yes,” is your whisper of a reply.
“What’s up? Was I too loud for you?”
You’ve got the entire building on high-alert singing that loudly.
...is what you would say if you weren’t currently imploding. This is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. And nothing you ever want to experience again.
“Um, yeah, sorry.” You look down at your shuffling feet.
The hallway is pitch black, hardly allowing for even a mere shadow. Rushing out of your room, you’d forgotten to turn on even a single light.
You hear him step onto the tile floor and the rustle of a tower from the bathroom closet.
“Wait, can we talk?” He asks as though it weren’t the question of the fucking year. “I mean, preferably after I get out of the bathroom.” There’s a lack of tact to his words.
This isn’t the charming Oikawa you’re used to. This is a blunt… confusingly straightforward Oikawa.
His tone wavers like maybe he’d had a little more to drink than you’d last remembered. Your memory was proving to be disappointingly unreliable tonight.
You swallow thickly, “Sure.”
Because what else can you say?
“Can I stop by your room in a minute?”
You take a deep breath, “Yeah.”
And you patter back to your no-longer very safe haven. Oikawa is about to infiltrate your space… with your permission. And the weapons he’ll bring will either harpoon you or leave you emotionally paralyzed – whether that emotional paralysis is a good or bad thing will be decided in the near future.
Your bed, though soft and blanket-covered, looks far less appealing now. It may as well be a bed of nails because you would rather hide beneath it than sit atop it.
But you sit anyway, letting the mattress dip and the springs twang.
The bathroom door cries as it opens, putting you on edge. Your heart is pounding like a drum at a summer festival – hotter and louder with every beat.
The trod of footsteps tells you he’s approaching and, sure enough, the open door reveals Oikawa.
With only a lamp to brighten the space, he’s more contoured than usual. His hair is wet and heavy against his head, taking on an even darker brown than before. You’ve seen him fresh out of the shower before, but this… is different. Oikawa’s shirt sticks to his chest slightly – he must’ve thrown it on without drying off fully to get to you faster.
He takes a few steps into your room, choosing to lean his back against a wall next to your work desk. Oikawa brings his hands behind his back, pressing his weight into them. Brown eyes flicker from you to the wall behind you and back again.
Naturally, tension lays thick as a fog in the air space. 
“Hey, I’m…”
You cut him off, “You don’t have to say sorry! It’s… it’s okay.” 
Oops, you’d said that a little too loud. Not that it mattered much after Oikawa’s passionate performance.
An eyebrow raises and confusion sparks across his face. Your body freezes.
He brings a hand behind his neck. “Oh, I was just gonna say that I’m still kinda drunk.”
You knew that much. Though you really thought he’d say something other than that. Preferably something about the, uh, devoted love-song?
Why is he acting so casual right now? Is this even Tooru? Had he read too many alien conspiracies and been abducted for learning too much about extraterrestrials? 
Maybe he doesn’t realize you’d even heard him say your name in the shower.
“Oh... right.” You say slowly, lips staying parted at the end of your sentence.
“Which… probably isn’t good for either of us,” Different words drawl out and there’s a soft slur to some syllables, but at least he’s easy to understand, “me drinking too much, I mean.”
“Yeah,” you mutter.
“I think we should both just go to bed then.”
Your chest tightens. Of course, you want answers.
They’re likely embarrassing, face-reddening, Taylor Swift-centric answers. But you want them, nonetheless.
Although, it’s probably for the best that you don’t bring this up tonight. It was all probably a joke or a harmless accident – and, anyway, he admitted to being drunk.
“Right.”
“But I think you should know that I like you. A lot.”
“Yeah,” you respond again, automatically.
There’s another heavy silence. The pretty boy just stares at you, cherry colors tinting his cheeks but showing no expression of fear or embarrassment. You stare back, processing his words at turtle-like speeds.
The words tumble out, “Wait, say that again?” You double back, your own face reheating to its earlier temperature.
“I’m gonna be mad at myself in the morning if I don’t leave right now. And I really need to stop listening to that stupid song,” Oikawa says to himself. 
“But I wanted to see how you would respond if I changed the lyrics,” the words are pointed back at you again.
He stands up, feet moving slowly toward the doorway. Did he just… completely ignore your question?
Your jaw drops, “Did…” you can hardly speak.
Clearing your throat, you try again, focusing intently on your words, “...did you mean for me to hear you?”
“...Maybe.” He draws out the “e,” looking back at you.
That’s it. He’s lost his fucking mind. You’re going to strangle him. 
No TikTok advice could have prepared you for the monstrosity that is Oikawa Tooru. How Iwaizumi put up with that... that child for all these years, you have no idea.
You have to make a note of sending him a “get well” card, because nobody could be mentally okay after dealing with him for that long.
“B- but… why? What?” You stammer out, back stiff as a board.
“You like me don’t you?” He tilts his head, hair flopping cutely with it.
You gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing.
And it’s not that you don’t want to respond.
It’s that you can’t. You have no words. You vocal chords are on a panic-induced lockdown.
Because he knew.
He knew this entire time. Which you thought he might, but that doesn’t make the situation any less infuriating.
“And I like you back.”
You’re dumbfounded. You can’t think. This is ridiculous.
You open your mouth once more but he has no intention of continuing this conversation.
“Sleep well!” Without further comment, Oikawa flashes you a sleepy smile and begins scampering back to his room after having wreaked havoc on your poor heart.
Your voice comes back just in time for you to wake up the entire building once more,
“No, you get your ass back here and explain yourself!”
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plaidbooks · 3 years
Text
Dark Secrets: New Beginnings
A/N: This is the first installment of the Vampire!Sonny x reader fic. This chapter is only setting the stage; next chapter will be more about the vampire aspect, I promise! This covers the Bookstore square in @adarafaelbarba​ moodboard bingo!
Tags: mentions of sex
Words: 2233
Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @berniesilvas​​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​
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You spent hours on the computer compiling resources for your thesis. After years and years, you were finally getting your Ph. D in History…if you could just finish this damned thesis. List complete, you headed to the local bookstore; you always checked them first before going online, since they were cheaper.
You were intimately familiar with the bookstore; you went there often. And you had double and triple checked online that they had these books. You had a small basket, four books in it, while you looked for the fifth and final book you needed. But its spot on the shelf stood vacant; a perfect hole where it should be.
Shaking your head slightly, you started to search the shelves around it, in case someone didn’t put it back correctly. But you were coming up empty. And this was the book that you needed to buy here; the shop had it for $20, while online was a couple hundred.
“Looking for Making the Revolution: America, 1763-1791?” a voice asked from behind you.
You turned to find a pale, lanky, attractive man, his hair slicked back, his bright blue eyes watching you intently. He was sitting at a table, open book in his hand. Seeing the cover, you knew it was the book you needed.
“I am, yes. Were you intending to buy it?” you questioned, praying he said no.
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “I was debating it. Why, do you want it?”
“I do; I need it for my thesis. If you let me buy it, I promise to give it to you when I’m done, free of charge.” At this point, you were just desperate for that book.
His eyes seemed to bore into you as he thought about your proposal. Finally, he smiled, saying, “I think that’s a noble reason to buy this book. You’ve got yourself a deal.” He held the book out to you, and you gently took it from him.
“Thank you so, so much. You don’t know how much this helps me,” you said, placing the book in your basket.
He held a hand up. “No problem. There’s a lot of inaccuracies in that text, anyways.”
You blinked in surprise. “There are?”
“Oh yes. For one, it perpetuates the idea that Christopher Columbus came here to ‘escape tyranny’ in England, which is a load of crap, if I’m honest.”
You took a step closer to the strange man. “Do you have a source on that?”
He thought about it, chuckling to himself about something, before he answered. “Well, I am in the process of transcribing a manuscript from the man himself. But it hasn’t been published quite yet, so I doubt it’ll be of use to you for your thesis.”
“Wh—who are you?” you asked in awe.
He held a hand out for you to shake. “Dr. Dominick Carisi Jr., but you, my dear, may call me Sonny.”
Your eyes widened in shock, and you quickly shook his hand. “Dr. Carisi? Oh my god! I’ve been reading your work in class; I loved your thesis on slavery!” You had never seen a picture of him, had no idea he was so young; he was about your age. You had expected him to be an old man, at least in his 80s, not this attractive man in his early 40s at most.
He barked out a laugh. “You’ve really been reading my work? I’m flattered. I didn’t think anyone put stock in my texts.” While it was true he was a world renowned historian, his work was seen as highly controversial. He had a knack for citing manuscripts and journal entries, things that no one had discovered before he brought them to the limelight. But every authenticator had proven that the writings were from the time period. And that was enough for you.
“Please, sir, er, Doctor. Could I spend a day with you, pick your brain for my thesis? I’ll—I’ll buy the drinks and food, just…please?” you asked, suddenly embarrassed.
But Sonny’s smile grew. “I’d like that. But only if you call me Sonny. If you’re doing your thesis, then I assume you’re almost done with your doctorate?” You nodded, and he continued, “then in my eyes, we’re equals, and you don’t need to call me ‘Doctor’.”
Your heart beat a little faster when he called you equals. “Thank you so much Doc—Sonny. Does the coffeeshop next door work for you?”
“It does. And I’m free all week, whenever you need me.”
“How about tomorrow morning? I don’t have class until 3pm; I hope that’s enough time to chat.”
He gave you that heart melting smile once more. “Sounds good. See you tomorrow.” Then he took your hand and kissed it. As he walked away, your knees felt weak. You were infatuated within five minutes of talking to him.
 **********************
Sonny turned out to be an incredible source of information. Plus, he brought books that he thought would help you, letting you borrow what you needed. And, like yesterday, you found yourself completely enamored with him. He didn’t have a ring on, so you assumed him unmarried, but you didn’t know how to bring it up without being weird. Sure, you were close in age, but he was done with school, became a published historian, while you were still finishing up college. But he never talked down to you; on the contrary, he seemed highly interested in what you had to say.
Like before, you had been nervous—star-struck, really—when you met up with him. But as the hours ticked by, you found yourself more and more comfortable with him. He was highly intelligent, especially about history. You had found it hard to find someone who was as interested in history as you were, without sounding like a pretentious asshole. But Sonny checked all those boxes for you. You were just unsure if he felt the same.
“When is your thesis due? I feel like it’s still early in the academic year,” he asked.
You cleared your throat. “It is; I still have months and months to work on it. It’s due next year, but I want it to be perfect, you know?”
“I do, I do,” he agreed, nodding. “I hope you’re taking some time off, though, as well. Don’t let this paper take up your whole life; you should be out, appreciating everything this life has to give you. Don’t get stuck in the past.”
You looked at the table, letting his words soak in. It was like he had looked right through you; for the past month or so, you’ve been deep in your studies. You had friends, sure, but you hardly saw them. And you’d given up on dating until after you finished college, anyways. But maybe Sonny was on to something. You should seize the day, capture every moment in memories.
“Would you like to get dinner with me, Sonny?” you asked, trying to sound as confident as possible.
It was his turn to look surprised. “Oh, uh…sorry, you caught me off guard. In all my years, no one has ever asked me out; it’s usually the other way around.”
You chuckled. “You’re not much older than me,” you joked, and he smiled. “Maybe it’s time for something new. For both of us…that is, if you want?”
“I’d love to go to dinner with you,” he said, and your heart soared.
When it was getting close to 3, you bade him goodbye, and he told you he would be eagerly awaiting your dinner date. You felt your face heat at the words, and you swore your face never cooled off for the rest of the day.
*********************
That date with Doctor Carisi turned out to be the best decision of your life. You both felt the spark between you, and you said yes to a second date before he even finished asking. Now, it’s been ten months of loving bliss between you. You completed your thesis, got your doctorate, and Sonny couldn’t be more proud of you. And you learned that while he was a historian, he was also a detective. He said he wanted to help people now, by giving them both access to history material, and by putting absolute monsters away.
But there were little things with him, quirks, really. Though you’ve been to his place, and he yours, he never made a move to get you into bed. Sure, you’ve kissed—and sometimes this escalated to a full-blown make out session—but he didn’t seem interested in sex.
He also didn’t seem interested in moving in together…or a future at all, really. Whenever you tried to bring it up, he would just nod along with you, agreeing to whatever you said and adding on a lot of “one day’s”.
He had no family for you to meet, and yours didn’t live close. You noticed he also didn’t eat or drink much; he loved to make you dinner, and he would say that he snacked while cooking. And then, about once a month, he’d leave for 3-4 days, claiming he wanted to be alone to work on the manuscript.
You gave him as much space as he asked for, and though you still loved him dearly, you were starting to wonder if there was something wrong with you…or if it was just something he was having issues with.
“Hey Sonny?” you asked one day while snuggling on the couch at your place. “Are we okay?”
He glanced down at you. “As far as I know, yes? Why, something on your mind?”
“Well…I was just thinking about how we’ve been together almost a year and we still haven’t moved in together,” you tried.
He looked to the ceiling as he thought. “Wow, I guess it really has been that long now, hasn’t it? I feel like I just met you yesterday.”
“So, are we not connecting on a deeper level, then?” You sat up, turning to look at him.
His bright blue eyes found yours, and his expression softened. “That’s not what I meant; I’m sorry it came out like that. Time just…it moves so quickly is all. Look, I love you, I just—I don’t think I’m quite ready to make that jump yet. I’m sorry; I know this must be frustrating, but I promise you one day, I’ll…I’ll be ready.”
You nodded. “I love you too, I just….”
“What is it? You can tell me—”
“Why won’t you sleep with me?” you asked softly. His eyes widened, and you quickly added, “are—are you ace? It’s fine if you are, I understand, but I just…I feel like it’s something wrong with me, and I—”
He cupped your face in his hands, looking deeply in your eyes. “No, it’s nothing wrong with you, I promise. I’m just…I’m not ready—”
“I have urges, Sonny. And I love you, want to wait for you. But it’s been almost a year. I—I don’t believe a healthy relationship is built on sex, but well, it’d be nice to have every once in a while….”
He sighed, releasing your face. “It’s not that I don’t want to, because I do. I just want to be absolutely sure I’m ready. Call it shyness, or embarrassment, whatever you want. But I want to make sure that—that you’re the one for me, first, okay?”
You opened your mouth to respond when his phone rang. He gave you an apologetic look before answering with his stiff, “Carisi.” He mostly listened, making little noises of affirmation, before hanging up.
“I’m so, so sorry, doll. But the department needs me. I swear we’ll talk about this once I’m home, okay?” he promised, getting to his feet.
He grabbed his jacket, heading for the front door. “Sonny wait,” you called, and he stopped, looking back at you. You hurried over to him, looking up into those beautiful blues. “Be careful.”
He smiled softly. “I will be; promise.” He gave you a kiss, and then he was gone.
 ********************
You didn’t hear from Sonny again until the next morning, when he showed up on your front door, breakfast in hand. He apologized for leaving you last night during that important talk, but you brushed it off, telling him it was fine.
“That’s not all I have to apologize for,” he said, looking anywhere but at you. “I’m…going undercover. I’ll be gone for three months.”
Your face fell, and you put your fingers under his chin, tilting his face until he looked at you. “Three months?” you breathed.
“I’m sorry; I tried to decline, but the Lieutenant gave her orders. I leave in an hour.”
“Three months…” you said again, worry blossoming in your chest. This was the longest he’d be gone since you started dating.
He nodded. “I’ll text or call when I can, but don’t expect it; it may be too dangerous.”
You’d heard enough; you lifted onto your tiptoes, kissing him desperately. Your hands went to his hair, and you pulled him close, all your fear and trepidation in the kiss. He froze for only a moment before he was kissing you back, hands on your hips. He clutched you tightly enough that you gasped in pain, and he pulled away, releasing you.
“I’m sorry. I love you,” he muttered before turning to leave, but you had a suspicion that he wasn’t apologizing for leaving.
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cherrychonk · 3 years
Text
The Transfer part 11
You were back reading the diary of the victim. You could see the progress of the ship and many other details. Reading took you longer, you would occasionally peek and look at what the Chief was doing. She would answer dozens of calls and do overviews of many reports. While you watched her quietly.
Her brows were furrowed down, eyeglasses hung perfectly balanced on her nose as she wrote something down.
“Do you have a problem with my face officer?” Lin asked without looking at you.
You felt your face blush at being caught. “Huh?!”
She didn't look up from her work. “If I wanted a stalker, I could've asked Korra to leave her mutt here.”
“My apologies Chief! I just- You look- I…!?” Your mind short circuited as you went back to your papers. You buried your head in the notebook to hide the embarrassment showing in your face.
The next few days you spent reading the journal and writing anything significant in your notepad. You had fallen into a routine of coming early into the office with breakfast and coffee for the both of you and eating in comfortable silence. She would do paperwork or help the rookies with their work. Sometimes she would help Saikhan with operations and other times she would have meetings with President Moon. Lunch was spent with Jia or Mako, sometimes both. Other times Korra would come along too if she was free at the moment.
Coming back every day after lunch break you would resume your work, some days Lin would arrive an hour before your shift was over or even after it. You liked to stay longer to see her return and to make sure she had eaten. If she had a lot of paperwork (almost always) you would stay with her and help her after ordering some dinner.
Coffee was the go to every night when there was too much paperwork. The beverage keeping both of you going like gasoline. Sometimes you would have to fight to keep your eyes open and after a shot of coffee your eyes would open wide like dinner plates. She never seemed faced about it though. Probably since she had been doing this for years. But you smiled, she wouldn't have to be doing things alone now that you were here, you would help her.
________
Tonight both of you had finished dinner and were working on a lot of documents. Classifying and ordering forms, placing them in boxes and organizing everything. When the clock hit midnight you went to the break room and retrieved two coffees, handing her one. You brought the sugar jar and placed it on the desk, offering some to her before sitting down. You gave your coffee two spoons of sugar before stirring it, raising the cup to your lips and taking a sip. You always enjoyed the late night cups, they always seemed to taste better. You weren't sure why, it was the same cup you drank in the morning. Something, however, made it taste especially good at this time.
You watched as Lin did the same, two spoons of sugar and a few sips. You continued with the work when you heard the metallic sound of the spoon clicking in the jar. You looked up to see the spoon completely still but positioned differently than before. You decided to ignore it and went back to work, instantly the sound was back and you snapped your head to the jar.
“You alright?” The Chief asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, oki doki.” You replied, narrowing your eyes at the jar before looking back at your work.
This time when you heard the sound you didn't move your head, you listened carefully and looked from the corner of your eye to see the Chief pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into her coffee. You slowly and carefully moved your head so now you were staring at her. She took a sip, looking up she saw you staring and her cheeks turned red.
“What?!” She snapped.
You chuckled. “You know, you can put as much as you like. No shame there.” You said pushing the jar closer to her.
“You're making fun of me now, officer?” She growled, still embarrassed.
You quickly waved your hands. “No! No! Seriously, take as much as you want. I just didn’t know you like your coffee so sweet.”
She huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not a big fucking deal…”
You chuckled as she glared at you. “Well, it’s a big deal for me. So, how do you like your coffee?”
She looked at you dumbfounded, her arms softened and she grabbed her coffee looking at it, the dark liquid staring back at her. “Ummm well… I like my coffee lighter, with cream and a few spoons of sugar. I’m not a fan of the bitter taste.” Lin said, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Okay, I’ll be right back” You said standing up leaving the confused earthbender on her desk.
After a few minutes you came back with a new coffee, making it as she described and settling back on her desk. “Here, I hope this one is more of your liking.” You smiled.
The blush was still on her cheeks though more subtle now. She grabbed the coffee, taking a sip and she tried hard not to smile.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” Lin said softly.
“Nonsense!” You smiled. “I’m enjoying my coffee, you should enjoy yours too.”
With a smile you continued with your work as the earthbender looked at her new coffee. You would occasionally look up at her, sometimes meeting her gaze, you could've sworn that she blushed every time, because you sure did. Something inside you made you feel warm seeing her so soft around you and you couldn't help but smile.
Both of you finished the last of the paperwork, you stretched out and yawned. It was already three am and you had to wake up at six. You prayed that tomorrow would be slower.
“Spirits, what a long day we had.” You chuckled walking out of the office.
Lin hummed in agreement. “You want me to take you home?”
“It's okay, I can walk, go home.” You said walking down the station’s stairs and into the sidewalk.
She grabbed your arm roughly. “You are not walking home! Are you insane?! Come on, let's get you home.”
You laughed at her frustration but followed her into the patrol car, you sat comfortably as she turned the engine.
“Have you been walking alone all this time?!” She asked, irritated.
You yawned. “I didn't want to bother you and the exercise is good for me anyways.”
“I'm driving you home myself from now on, you're asking to be mugged by walking home alone for fucks sake.” She huffed, pissed by your antics.
Her ranting was stopped when she felt your head on her shoulder as you slept quietly by her side. She was stiff as a board on her way to your apartment, not wanting to wake you until she got there. Once she arrived she gently nudged you.
“Hey, we're here, wake up.” She said firmly.
“Ten more minutes…” You yawned, getting more comfortable on her shoulder.
“Y/N don't make me carry you.” She growled.
You didn't respond too far gone in sleep to care. She sighed, grabbing your bag and looking for your keys, with them in hands she grabbed you and carried you bridal style up your apartment stairs. Carefully unlocking the door she walked in, the place was neatly clean and it had a few more plants than last time, she noticed.
She carefully opened the bedroom door and laid you on the bed. She took your jacket off and rocked you a bit rough to wake you.
“Y/N if you're going to sleep in your uniform at least take your belt off. Also, you can come in at ten so you have a few more minutes of sleep.”
You didn't open your eyes though you have heard her. Instead your tired brain forced your hands to pull the belt off before you started to pull your pants down.
The earthbender quickly grabbed your blanket covering you in panic. “Well okay bye!” She said flustered as she hurried out of the room and out of the apartment, using her metalbending to lock the door.
She got into her patrol and started to drive away. Her mind was flooded with thoughts of you. She tried to think of anything else but failed miserably. Once in her building she parked her patrol and went up the front stairs where the doorman awaited her.
“Miss Beifong, more late paperwork I see.” The doorman spoke gently, opening the door and accompanying the earthbender to the elevator. He was an older gentleman, probably in his late seventies. Still he was strong and healthy. He was old fashioned and a person Lin considered a close friend.
“Yes, like always. Though I've been having help these past few nights. The transfer, Y/N has been helping me lately.” She asked.
“Ahhh I see, the hero cop.” He hummed.
Lin nodded softly. “Yeah, the crazy reckless one.”
“She must take after you.” He said in a chuckle.
Lin smirked. “You insult me Delun?”
“Oh of course not, she's a hero just like you. It brings me happiness to see you less stressed. She must be a huge help.”
Lin blushed, quickly scoffing to recover. “She's fine.”
The man raised an eyebrow and smiled. “She must be.”
Before Lin could ask what he meant they arrived at the elevator and he pressed the elevator button. “Good night Miss.”
“Night Delun.” She said softly.
Landing on her floor, she walked to the front door of her penthouse and settled her armor on the stand. She went straight to the bathroom where she undressed and turned on the shower. She allowed the water to fall on her face, trying to find anything to distract her thoughts. She cleaned herself with no urgency, finishing and dressing herself on a night gown.
Lin laid on her huge bed all alone while her mind was drowning with the thoughts of you. You were so thoughtful, maybe for you it was a simple act but for her? It was the most meaningful thing that had happened to her. She felt herself blush thinking of your smile and care, the fact you stayed to help her whenever she needed or that she even asked what she wanted and made it for her. The breakfasts and dinners to make sure she had eaten every day, made her heart warm up too.
Then Lin frowned, why would she keep thinking of you. Your kindness, the way you talked or acted. She reasoned she was just getting used to you being so open and different. Nothing more, she just appreciated your presence, not like she had a crush. Absolutely not, she was just thankful for your help, that's all.
Lin groaned, wrapping the blanket around her. “Snap out of it Lin.” She said softly before snoozing off.
________
Morning arrived, a little too fast for Lin’s liking. She arrived early at the station like every day. Feeling tired due to the late night work the other day. She watched the clock before sighing and walking around the station to mentally prepare for the day. She talked to Mako for a bit before checking the other officers and talking to Saikhan about a sting operation that would be happening in a few days.
After everything was said Lin walked back to her office, you weren't there yet. It was still seven fifty and the Chief told you to come in at ten so you could rest. You on the other hand had other plans as you all but burst through her office doors.
“Morning Chief!” You said with a wide smile. You were holding breakfast in one hand and a coffee holder on the other.
Lin was surprised to see you, most officers would kill to come in a bit later but here you were, bright and early with bags under your eyes just like hers. “Y/N, what are you doing here? I told you to stay till ten so you could rest.”
You settle everything on her desk, handing her a coffee cup. “Had to make sure you had breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day!” You said happily.
“What? Don't think I can take care of myself?” Lin raised an eyebrow.
“Did you have breakfast?” You deadpan.
She stayed silent and you smiled.
“Ahh yes, that's what I thought.” You sat on your desk eating away your sandwich.
Lin shook her head before sipping her coffee. This time she couldn't help the smile on her face as she tasted the sugar and cream.
“Lunch is on me.” She said, grabbing her sandwich.
You nodded and went back to your notes. Lin sighed contently, your presence bringing her unprecedented calmness.
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sly-merlin · 3 years
Text
KILLING ME - 4
(minor friendly chapter)
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pairing : law student! Reader + yuta
Genre : angst, mafia au/arranged marriage au
Warnings : none.
Words : 5k
Summary:
"life's never fair y/n. Realise it as soon as you can. It is the only secret for living a regretless life."
Or
"curiosity got the cat hitched"
K.m masterlist
A/n : this series is totally minor friendly now. ✨
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Previous morning in Taeyong’s office
“What was that for!” taeyong questioned jaehyun, clearly annoyed by his previous hostile mannerisms towards you. Jaehyun was on the receiving end of taeyong’s infuriation immediately after you departed from his office with doyoung.
“What!?” Jaehyun tried to act oblivious to Taeyong's accusations.
“Why were you trying to scare her? Escort ring! For fucks sake Jae, I expected better from you.”
“But it wasn’t a dead loss. And even you went along in the same wagon, so don’t put everything on me alone.” Jaehyun justified himself by shrugging his shoulders lightly. “And admit it! She was giving you a hard time. That bitch was not buying anything!
Taeyong knew jaehyun was right. Your unsatisfied replies and never ending enquiries were exasperating him, but he would rather preserve his precious ego than admitting that to jaehyun.
He ruffled his well-made hair before replying to Jaehyun, who was expecting some gratitude with a smug face.
“I-- just be careful and refrain from doing and saying anything that might put a dent in my plan. It’s a chance Neo would never get again. So be patient and don’t go around opening your mouth about this to anyone.” jaehyun reluctantly nodded,not hearing what he wanted but his affirmation calmed taeyong’s nerves. He couldn’t trust jaehyun entirely but his options were limited.
All the pieces were in the right place, for now. Nothing could go south right!
But jaehyun couldn’t completely understand the rationale behind Taeyong’s design.
and nor could the figure standing outside, completely hidden from the insiders.
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The dread of the forthcoming finals substantiated the shortage of vacant seats in the kwanjeong library. You tried your best to arrive as expeditiously as possible for a person who partied, got abducted, arranged her own marriage, and again partied in grief, all in spam of about 34 hours. Finding no available seat, you decided to settle down on the floor. You gulped your cup of Americano in one go and began with the donut. As per a wise saying, Caffeine and sugar were the best combination as a breakfast for someone trying to get through their day with only 4 hours of sleep, the intellect being none other than your own self!
Yesterday was a pretty long day. Though you were worn out from the adventures with wonwoo last night, your brain wasn’t exhausted enough to shut down properly when you tried to close your eyes.The flashes of the events had shrouded you with a mixture of regrets and worries. What was the guarantee that you won’t end up dead tomorrow! What if taeyong was lying! But the fact regarding moon industries was absolutely legible. Maybe you should get a restraining order or something! But the existence of a person is necessary for that and yuta was a fucking corporate in the public eye and you were sure taeyong held some powerful position in the rich hierarchy as well, otherwise, covering the shits without revealing their true identities was not the job of some measly gang leader. There was more to taeyong than what someone could perceive just by looking. Will you be considered one of them now! After the little stunt that landed you straight into yuta’s life, you weren’t sure that he’d not strangle you in sleep. And What were you going to say to them? Chelin, yeom, guk, yeong.
and your thoughts spiralled from taeyong,yuta towards chelin and your friends and didn’t rest anytime before 4a.m. Waking up at 8 sharp , you took a shower and made your way towards the library.
And now you were here. 2 students passed your figure indicating that there were 2 vacant seats. Finally, after 15 minutes. They might have been the overnight students, you thought and walked inside before anyone else could claim the treasure. You had to find a new topic of thesis and do some research for an international paper your professor was writing, and you being his designated so-called subordinate had to help him, involuntarily of course. But in this world, the student who could refuse their professor’s demands was yet to be born! Marking the place by placing your bag, you started the search for last month’ law journals and digests. One and a half hours passed, but you couldn’t find anything on the international court of justice i.e. what your professor hadn’t already included. The urge to go out was profusely weighed down by your own sentiment of avoiding your friends. So you decided in favour of swallowing the bitter pill.
5 hours passed. The vibration of the timer in your phone prompted you to run off and get some food. It was already 2:30 and the lack of real food was making the tasks harder than they already were. Stepping outside into fresh air, instant regret of not bringing an umbrella washed over you. The sun was too bright unlike your mood and walking all the way to your favourite canteen would end up in you getting another headache. But you silently wished that every being from yesterday’s party was suffering from the same treatment of the over-the-top optimistic planet. why to suffer alone!
“Shortie” you lifted your head, spotting the combo of buy 1 get 1 free, heading your way.
“Where were you the whole day? And if you aren’t going to pick calls then please do that poor thing a favour and sell it!” yugyeom barked while running his hand through his hair.
You shrugged jungkook’s elbow from your shoulder and replied “I was busy with prof. Joong’s work. And I have to be somewhere after 4 so I was a bit-
“Joong should adopt you already man!” Jungkook interrupted, nudging your sides with his fingers.
“ but I thought he wanted to be her sugar daddy!” At that gyeom gave a serious and stern look to kook, pretending to ponder over his statement for a second and then suddenly they both started laughing, hands hitting you everywhere to support their doubling figures.
“Get away from me, idiots!” you shouted, trying to get away from them. Once they were done with showing their exaggerated emotions, you all giggled together in unison. they were wearing their fundraiser t-shirts, you noticed.
“When is the fundraiser?”
“At 5. But you won’t be there to support us cause you are busy with your daddy!” kook exclaimed while bumping your shoulder with his arm.
“I didn’t say I’m going for Joong’s work and no, he’s not my sugar daddy, doofus. I’m busy with tutoring. I missed someone’s Saturday class so—
“Okay, chill tiger. You need to breathe. It’s a boring event anyway.” gyeom said in a comforting tone, interjecting your rapid fire speech.
“I’m gonna have lunch, are you two going?” you suggested.
“Yeah, it’s our break and Yeong and Minjun have eaten already, so that leaves you!” kook pouted when gyeom mentioned his boyfriend’s name.
“Let’s go! I want my sugar” your dramatic pout made yugyeom pet your hair lovingly and the three of you started walking on a stone pathway on the way to the canteen.
“Where’s your umbrella?” jungkook asked you. He knew how much you hated walking under the sun after the drinking escapades.
“I forgot but let’s not talk about it. it’s making me grumpy.”
“Okay! but why don’t you cover your head with that scarf instead.” he said pointing towards the silky material around your neck.
“Naahh, it ruins my fashion” they gave each other a puzzled look, shrugging their shoulders for they both couldn’t gather the reason for your weird behaviour.
At lunch, you talked to them about the fundraiser and gave your own contribution for the noble cause. The conversation with them progressed too easily and for about an hour you forgot about the turmoil in your life, which was still unknown to them.
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After parting away, you went straight to your professor to show him your progress. He took note of the materials you found on recent cases and dismissed you without showing any gratitude. Not even a word of appreciation.
A ping!
Jaemin: noona, doyoung hyung is picking you up at 4 but he won’t enter the campus. Be out at 4!
You let out a frustrated groan at his text. You had only met him once, when he conferred upon you the honour of connecting your phone to his server but that was not the only favour you received! He also saved his contact number with various hearts that you obviously removed after reaching home. you could only pray to heavens that he won’t be there today as well!
You made your way to the library again, this time to work on your thesis. The time passed faster than you thought. The alarm you placed earlier vibrated, indicating it was 4 already! You hastily made your bag and ran out of the library. It took 10 minutes to reach the gates of the campus. When you passed your dorms building, the idea of ditching doyoung and going to bed sounded tempting but as usual, nothing was going your way these days. You felt like the old catch 22 was in action.
You passed through the gates and looked around the road to find doyoung's car but he was nowhere to be seen. While you were scanning the whole area, a low voice called your attention.
“What are you finding, I’m right here under your nose” a voice said through gritted teeth.
Yes, he was indeed sitting in the car right in front of you and the only one you missed apparently. You walked around the car to sit on the passenger seat, the tinted windows hiding you from the outside funfair.
“What took you so long? It's 4:15 already.”
“I don’t have a car like you so I walked myself here and it’s not like I did it purposely anyway.” You contended, the annoyance in your voice matching his own.
“Whatever, we are already late so turn around. Taeyong would be mad.”
“No I’m not turning around. First that cloth bag, then the handkerchief you tied on my eyes yesterday, its painful man. I’ll lose my eyesight this way. And I can navigate the whole city from this place, you can’t hide your dungeon from me now” you reasoned. He didn’t tie your hands yesterday but your eyes were still covered.
“Then give me your scarf. I’ll cover your eyes with your own choice of article. It’s not painful or else you won’t be wearing it right! he said mockingly, pointing towards your neck.
“Umm, this scarf is act-
“Give me that already. I have some other things to handle as well.” assessing your options, you hesitantly removed the scarf, turning around to face the window immediately. Doyoung tied it across your eyes, checking the knot twice and tapped your shoulder. As you turned around, doyoung’s doe eyes widened, if that was even possible. Your collarbone and neck, which was visible through your v neck top, was covered with pretty purplish bruises. You fidgeted with your hands, flustered, feeling his eyes on you. But he remained quiet, focusing on the task at hand.
The whole drive was quiet and though your hands were not tied, you kept them on your backpack, hesitant to start any conversation. The car stopped finally, the mixed feelings coming back. The same process followed. He guided you inside but this time you passed only one door and the walk was quite shorter as well.
As doyoung was about to remove your scarf, a hand stopped him, or that was what you understood from the movements at that time.
“Silky scarf, blindfold and hickies haan! Being kinky doyoungie. She’s your sister-in-law. Show some respect boy!” a voice remarked, the air around your face suddenly filled with chocolate and coffee. You hiccupped all of a sudden, earning a chuckle from the unknown presence.
You tried to reach for the blindfold, but your hands were caught mid-air, the said hands removing it. You blinked your eyes a few times to make out the figure’s face. He was standing, mostly bending to match your stature, face smiling to show all of his teeth.
Yuta.
You, surprised, took a step back but instead bumped into the one behind you.
“I’ll take over from here, doyoung.” but fortunately, he didn’t budge. Your hold on the backpack tightened, your eyes lowered to avoid his gaze. The only thing in your view were his baggy pants and white sports shoes.
But yuta could see only you and nothing else. Taeyong wasn’t the only one awaiting your arrival. Yuta was equally anticipating you. His night was just as sleepless and anxious as you. He was afterall at the other end of the rope.
He raised your head, fingertips lightly grazing your chin. His hooded eyes roamed around your face like he was expecting you to show some contempt , hatred,nervousness! He straightened up abruptly and started tying the silk around your neck. You flinched at his touch but he remained void of any reaction. His half denim jacket and white t-shirt hid you from the surroundings, his arms almost engulfing you. He repositioned himself to match your height again, arms crossing against his chest.
“Looks like someone had a fun night.” and in a second, his honey smile changed into a smirk, letting go of any trace of earlier softer expressions. And the look on his face was enough to scare the shit out of anyone.
“Stop yuta” a taller man you recognised from yesterday as Johnny, pushed yuta aside from your view. It was then you saw that everyone was there. Including the one you were yet to encounter.
Your eyes wandered from one side to the other. Johnny let you inspect.
“Doyoung, what was the need to cover her eyes?” Johnny whispered to doyoung, breaking your trance.
“Why is everyone nagging me so much” he whined in a screeching voice.
“Karma bitch” Johnny pointed his forefinger towards him before giving his attention to you.
“Hey, how are you y/n.” he asked, his cheerful voice totally in contrast with the weather of the room.
“I’m- ummm.” you cleared your throat before continuing. “I’m fine Johnny. As fine I can be.” you mumbled the last part but he surely heard you.
“You remembered my name!” he clapped, his eyes turning into crescents. You gave him a tight lipped smile in return, waiting for some instructions. As if on cue, taeyong’s loud voice graced your ears.
“Come y/n. make yourself comfortable” he indicated towards the couches that were almost already occupied. Johnny gestured to you to proceed, walking with you. You passed yuta who was still smirking and sat on the single seat available next to taeyong. You placed your backpack on the large table in the middle of the room. It looked like a normal living room for guests, just with too many couches to accommodate the gang. You felt like an uninvited because apparently everybody was watching you like a hawk. Their stares changed sight only when yuta came to take a seat on one of the couches, exactly opposite to yours. You met his eyes briefly before turning your face towards your bag again.
Who knew the rusty zips of your bag were so interesting!
“So y/n I thought you should meet everyone. You are going to be part of this family soon. Better get acquainted with all.” taeyong addressed you while he sat on his couch majestically like a king. You heard a dry laugh and if you had to guess it had to be from jaehyun or yuta.
You didn’t understand why he wanted that. You were just a risk till yesterday and now means to discipline yuta.
And why all the formalities if you were gonna leave anyway.
“I’m going to leave anyway, taeyong. So I don’t see a need to do it!
You were too consumed to notice how your sentence turned all the heads around you. Some started giving side eyes to each other. There was something they were all missing.
“I said you could leave. But not without my permission. So, you’d be stuck for now, maybe till months or years.”
You gulped at his words. Taeyong turned your only hope into a distant dream. Maybe you were too foolish to gauge the situation.
“You want something to eat or drink before we continue” he asked in a sincere voice. Shaking your head, you rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands to stop them from moistening. There was nothing more embarrassing than to cry in front of a bunch of strangers who didn’t give a shit about you.
“No, please continue.” you emphasised again to not draw any more attention to yourself than already was. And you internally thanked Taeyong who continued as if you weren’t just gonna cry!
“You will move in with yuta on Saturday,” it was Monday. “The wedding ceremony would be held in the morning. So you have a few days to prepare, everything from your dress to every other thing you need shall be arranged. Just name it and you’ll have it!”
Wedding ceremony! That was not on the plate!
“I don’t want a cerem-
“Leave the bullshit ta-
You and yuta both cut off each other simultaneously. You glanced at his side, finding him already piercing his gaze into yours.
“There’s no need for it. The paper signing is enough. It’s not like we are in-
You knew taeyong understood what you were trying to say, so you didn’t continue. But you were already having a feeling of superiority over yuta for being the first to offer your opinion. It felt like a payback for flustering you earlier. You refrained from facing him again, your body turned towards taeyong only, but you felt satisfied with the thought of him being riled up.
“Oh, but I want a ceremony taeyong and mark is going to be the best man. He’s so excited. You can’t do that to him!” yuta emphasised through the variation in his voice. You knew he changed his argument purposely , but you maintain your cool, opting to ignore him . bear and forbear.
Taeyong raised his eyebrow at you but you shook your head again.
“I don’t think it’d be a good idea. It’s not a normal one anyway so why pretend!” you held your ground.
“You aren’t getting married to a mannequin.” yuta retracted. “I’m getting married as well and don’t anyone dare say that I made a mistake and blah blah. At last I’ll be hitching so I want a ceremony and Japanese at that!”
Oh yeah, he was Japanese. You have missed that as well.
All the other men in the room, 9 to be exact, were nodding at everything that was being said. They were unable to decide whose argument was worth taking side for. Finally Johnny spoke-
“I think y/n is right” looking at nowhere in particular, he continued. “What’s with pomp and show when it’s nothing more than an agreement”
“But if yuta hyung wants it, then why not. They are going to live together, he should have his say as well.” It was Mark who took yuta’s side. He didn’t know why but watching yuta losing ground urged him to support his brother.
You looked briefly at the boy who just argued with Johnny.
“He’s mark y/n.” taeyong said the answer you were looking for. “And he’s Jungwoo, jeno, doyoung, you have already met him, then jaehyun, johnny, renjunie, hendery. Others are busy so you’ll meet them some other day probably.”
A few waved towards you, including Mark, who shyly withdrew his hand quickly. They all probably hated you as there was no other reaction towards a person who almost put your life in danger!
“Can we get to a middle ground now? I’m already getting tired of this” jaehyun grumbled, leaning into the couch.
“Ok so, he wants a celebration of a lie! What about me then? You are all here but I have no one. I’m alone and probably will be. Because taeyong, you haven’t told me how am I going to reveal this to my friends? I may not have a family, but still there are people close to me. They are my best friends, roommate, and many others who need to know! How am I going to explain to them that their friend who didn’t even have a boyfriend, is getting married suddenly? I don’t even have parents to cover it with an arranged marriage. How to convince them? Give me a way and I’ll agree” you pointed out the very important detail that they were missing. But they needed to know that there was other side of the paper as well and your reasons were not just a cry in the wilderness.
Nobody made a sound. Everything went quite like a dark night until-
“I hope this is not the calm before a storm!” you looked over to see the person who broke the silence. It was another young man coming with a food trolley, probably from the kitchen.
“I thought we have a guest so I prepared some coffee and donuts. I hope you like sweets y/n” the man was smiling ear to ear, seeming too happy with your visit.
“I-
“I’m kun.” he introduced himself and you shook his hand. He seemed too polite for a criminal. “Have this and tell me how it is” he forcibly handed you a dessert plate with a chocolate glazed donut. You took it out of politeness but felt a bit weird to be the only one eating it. You watched him with quizzical eyes as he took one for himself and sat on the arm of your couch. Everyone was now staring at your movements.
“Eat it, eat it. These are for you and me only.” he cajoled.
You decided to take a bite and then place it back just to stop the awkwardness.
As you bit it from one side, your brain short circuited. “Holy shit, bro. What is this sorcery.” your genuine and innocent reaction made Kun laugh loudly, some of the others joined in as well.
“Thank god, you like it! I’m so glad you aren’t one of weight conscious ones, otherwise it’d have been weird.” he started munching on his own piece.
“I’m a sugar bear. I can’t live without sugar. I just had a donut in the morning but it was bleh compared to this. You are a master chef bro.” and for a minute you forgot the previous tense environment. Everyone was glad that Kun came to save the situation and except to you, it was known that obviously he heard everything from the kitchen.
“You ate one in the morning! Then it’s the last one you’re getting. Everyone help yourself. She’s not having any more!” as if they were waiting, everyone except mark and yuta picked them up.
“Mark” Kun motioned towards the tray and he grabbed one as well.
“What if I was allergic to chocolate, kun” you asked him while finishing your treat.
“Oh please! Even ten eats it.” he laughed to himself at his reference, which went over your head.
“Now coming to the point.” Everyone looked at taeyong who was already done with eating. “Y/n doesn’t want anything special so it’ll happen like that. No!yuta, lemma speak. And you y/n, it’s upon you to make your friends believe. Make up a story or do whatever you want. You don’t want to tell them about the wedding. Fine with me but do let them know at least that you have a boyfriend that you are moving in with! It’s on you both to make this arrangement believable.
“okay , sho now I shuggenly hab a voyfiend” you started speaking without even finishing the bite in your mouth. you continued once you chewed it.
“won't they be suspicious. They know exactly what I do and what I don’t. It’s almost impossible to put a façade in front of them.”
“Oh please, don’t tell me they even know from where you got those hickies” jaehyun’s curt statement was a hit below the belt. Kun was about to scold him when you elaborated his statement further to prove that he was doing nothing but burning his own fingers.
“Yes, actually they happen to know. When, where and from whom I got these. Anything else you want to ask?.” he rolled his eyes on your reply, busing himself with the delicacy instead.
“They don’t know yuta. So if you want you can introduce him to your people. He won’t be posing any problem, take my word for it.”
“I’ll go with you if you also accompany me,that I guess would be a problem for you. You don’t want to be seen with a criminal, or do you!” yuta jabbered. He was trying to push your buttons to measure your limit. But little did he know that you were far from being that easy.
“I just said I don’t want a wedding. I’ll agree to anything that is reasonable and is not degrading to me.”
“Ok then, nobody would force you to do what you don’t want.” Taeyong decided to take matters into his own hands now. “And we’ll organise a small, very intimate gathering at taeil’s office to celebrate as yuta wants. And you’ll be introduced as Mrs. Nakamoto to our corporate world.” taeyong finished gauging both of your reactions. The surname was foreign and cringing to you. But it was going to be yours, so there was nothing you could do, for now.
“What do you mean ‘our’ corporate world.” you got puzzled at his choice of words.
“You’ll find out soon and it's nothing scary, don’t worry.” Kun responded on behalf of taeyong this time, handing you your cup of coffee. “Tell me if it’s cold, I’ll-
“No it’s totally fine.” you assured him, without even taking a sip. He was being nice enough already.
“If my opinion has no value, then what am I even doing here!” yuta shouted, getting up from the seat.
“yut-
Before Kun could say anything, he stormed off. Mark tried to follow but taeyong stopped him from doing that.
“Don’t mind him. He’s a hot head.” Johnny laughed in between his bites.
You only nodded, sipping your coffee. You were glad he was gone. Sugar has always done wonders for you and it was having the same effects now as well. You were able to think more rationally now.
“One more thing” you furrowed your brows at taeyong. What was left now! “Do you want any specifications in the house? It’s my responsibility. A wedding gift you can say. If you need anything like extra closet, a more spacious kitchen-
“Kitchen?” you let out a brief chuckle at that. Everyone’s eyes were on you now. “It’ll be totally fine if I don’t even get a kitchen. I can’t cook anything besides ramyeon and salads. So I won’t even need that.”
“You are a student. Don’t you know anything basic.” It was Jungwoo who spoke in the sweeter voice than Kun's.
“No. I grew up in an orphanage and they provided us everything. I left when I started law. So all in all, I never had anyone to teach me. That’s why if you want to know best food trucks and restaurants in the city, I’m your best option.but, if that yuta knows how to cook, ask him about the kitchen.” you spoke nonchalantly .But you didn’t realise how uncomfortable the air had become. a heavy silence took over the light atmosphere.
“I’m sorry noona” Jungwoo apologised sheepishly.
“It’s fine. After all there are some things that your hacker can’t find out. only I can tell you those.” saying that, you faced taeyong again. “But if you insist, I can always use a study room.” you tried to enlighten the mood again.,ppp
“Ok. I’ll find something suitable for you both.” you hummed, not knowing what to say anymore.
“Can I go back now?”
“Yes, doyoung will drop you.”
“No, I’ll go with her.” Johnny said, grabbing your attention. He didn’t look sulky like doyoung so, it’d be fine, you guess.
They said you goodbyes. Mark seemed hesitant to even look at you, but you couldn’t care less. He was just a stranger after all.
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Yuta couldn’t realise why everyone was trying to be so nice to you. Till yesterday, he was allowed to put a gun on her head but now every being was against him. He didn’t know why he was so furious at Taeyong, to force him to marry you or for dragging Mark into this mess. Taeyong knew how to play dirty, but yuta never thought he’d use his own brother. There was no option for him as well, as taeyong has said. He showed interest in a fucking celebration to contradict you, but you were not backing down and that felt like a punch to his gut.
He drove towards his stress reliever. The infamous Japanese club, the only place where he could drown his sorrows.
The club was packed despite it being Monday. That was one thing he liked about it, you’ll never be disappointed in this place.
“ゆた!” The hostess chimed seeing yuta. “久しぶり” [ long time, no see!]
He signed her to give him 2 shots. She did as told but her gaze was following yuta’s, which rested on her cleavage. He came here only for 2 things after all.
He gulped the drink in a second without blinking an eye.
“バックルーム” [ back room]
She wasn’t someone to be told twice. She handed her hand towel to her co-worker and followed the path. Who was she to reject him after all?
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He drove back silently again. The relief he felt was all dissipated now. Instead his mind was already wandering towards you. Your headstrong attitude was troubling him. his plans were all down and out. He hated you , from the moment he laid his eyes on you. You acted like you were invincible but he knew it was just a mask to protect yourself.
He had noticed how you rubbed your eyes to hide your disappointment for you didn’t want to appear weak. All he had to do now was to find a vulnerable part of you, to hit you where it’d hurt the most. It’d be last time he lost to you.
Afterall, beginning is always easy, it is continuing that’s hard!
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45 notes · View notes
nayutai · 4 years
Text
The Task At Hand
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Pairing Mingyu x Female OC
Word Count 15.1k
Warnings mentions of infidelity, mentions of racism, foul language, anxiety, insecurities, therapy sessions, dumbasses in love, light choking, dry humping
Summary The first year of marriage is always the hardest. Unfortunately for Mingyu and Kamile, the first year as husband and wife may also be their last. 
Notes This absolute behemoth of a fic is my contribution to The Intimacy Anthology where I, along with many other fantastic writers, have explored intimacy in all of its many forms. This fic is incredibly close to my heart and I hope that you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please check out the other stories featured in the project here as well! 
Mingyu fumbles with his keys in the dark as he searches for the one that’ll get him into his house. The alcohol coursing through his system is making this very simple task a lot harder than it needs to be. He shouts victoriously when he finally manages to unlock the front door to stumble inside. He freezes when he hears someone clapping slowly off to his right.
“Two minutes and forty seven seconds. That didn’t take you as long as I thought it would but then again you have been good at finishing quickly these days.” Mingyu groans deep in his throat at the scathing words from the woman staring him down from the love seat in the living room. She lifts a glass of what he can only assume is white wine to her lips, draining it quickly. 
“I’m too drunk for your bullshit tonight, Kamile.” Mingyu grunts as he leans back against the door to steady himself while he toes his sneakers off. All he wants to do is crawl up the stairs to the guest room he’s been sleeping in so that he can go to sleep. He rolls his eyes when he hears Kamile clear her throat from across the room. If he knows anything about his wife, nothing good is about to come out of her mouth. 
“If you didn’t want to hear my bullshit then maybe you should’ve shown up for dinner with my parents tonight.” The venom in her voice makes Mingyu’s blood run cold. He’d totally forgotten about her mother’s birthday dinner tonight. Fuck. As much as he hates to hear her nagging him, even he has to admit that he deserves it this time. This dinner has been planned for months and he should’ve been there. 
He forces his eyes to focus when he looks back over at the brooding woman shooting daggers at him from across the room. It’s then he registers the fact that she’s still fully dressed despite the late hour. Kamile is a huge proponent of being comfortable within the walls of her own home and for her to sit in a dress and heels as she waits on his appearance does not bode well for him in the slightest. He’s surprised that she hasn’t launched her wine glass at his head.
“Whatever or whoever you were out doing,” Kamile rises slowly from the couch, impressively steady in her heels despite the bottle of wine she ran through waiting on her neglectful husband to come home. Silence stretches between them interrupted only by the damning clicks of her shoes against the hardwood flooring. Kamile stops to appraise the man she married when she reaches him, wondering where it all went wrong. 
“…I hope it was worth it.” She silences his groveling with a raised hand. She’s tired of the arguing. Tired of the excuses. Just tired in general. 
Most people would have some sort of emotional response to this but her exhaustion leaves nothing but an empty void in its wake. Mingyu may as well be yelling at a brick wall for all the response he gets from Kamile as she slowly climbs the stairs. The sound of the bedroom door clicking shut echoing around the house may as well have been a gunshot.
“One more thing for her to hold over my fucking head.” Mingyu grumbles as he slowly blazes his own trail up the stairs. He pauses before the closed door to the bedroom they once shared, hand gripping the doorknob in his hand as he contemplates going in to apologize. “What’s the use? Not like she’d listen to me now anyway.”
The bed in the guest room welcomes him like an old friend when he flops down on it, draining him of his energy. Thoughts of how he’ll fix things in the morning drift through his head. Sleep evens out his features, lulling him into a peaceful slumber despite the fact that he’s still fully clothed. The perfect cover for the plans being set in motion right down the hall. 
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The sun rouses Mingyu from his sleep way before he’s ready. He could’ve sworn that the curtains were pulled closed when he went to bed but it’s hard to know what’s what when you’re three sheets to the wind at god only knows what time. Blindly, he reaches out for his phone where he’d left it on the nightstand but comes up with a piece of paper instead. It takes a minute for his eyes to focus enough to read the words on the page, but when they do he finds himself bolting for the ensuite bathroom. The offensive piece of stationary gently drifting to the ground as if it hasn’t just ruined his life.
He heaves and wretches until he has nothing left to give. His knees buckle several times as he tries to brush his teeth which is an incredibly difficult task to complete when one is sobbing with everything they have. This can’t be happening. He refuses to believe that this is his reality. Mingyu’s heart sinks even lower when he drags himself back to the bedroom and sees Kamile’s  wedding ring on the night stand next to his phone. He retrieves the letter from where it rests on the floor, reading it over until the tears he’d fought back make a reappearance.
Doing this feels incredibly impersonal but I feel like it’s probably better this way. I realized that the flame I thought would burn forever is barely a spark anymore. Tonight was an epiphany for me. I realize that I deserve better and I’ve decided that I will have it. I’ve always wished you joy and light and I will probably never stop doing that despite everything that’s happened but I can’t do it as your wife anymore. 
Take care,
Kamile Dexter
The usage of her maiden name feels like the final nail in his coffin. He calls. He texts. He emails. He even sends her a message on instagram. Every single attempt to reach her goes unanswered. Anyone could see that things hadn’t been the best between them for a while, but never in his most horrific nightmares did Mingyu think that Kamile would actually leave. 
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Time is irrelevant to Mingyu in the days that follow Kamile’s departure. He wakes up when his alarm goes off and drifts through the day. His nights are spent calling Kamile despite the fact that she never answers which then leads to him drinking himself into an alcohol-induced sleep complete with all the blessed numbness that it provides until his alarm goes off once more. This is without a doubt the lowest point of his life and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Kamile grew up with Vernon so naturally Mingyu tries to enlist his help. Unfortunately, it seems that she has anticipated that move and stops answering Vernon’s calls and texts as well. 
With all of his other options seemingly exhausted, Mingyu calls the one person that could possibly help him, Sidra Dexter. A woman with many accolades to her name, Sidra considers being Kamile’s mother to be the most important among them. If anyone knows how to get through to his wife, it’s Sidra. Mingyu prays that she still has a soft spot for him as the phone rings in his ear. If this call goes unanswered, then he really will lose all hope in saving his marriage. 
“It’s about damn time you called me, Gyu Bear. My daughter left you a whole week ago tomorrow and you’re just now enlisting my services? Tell me why that is.” Never a woman to beat around the bush, Sidra gets right to the point with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. 
“I don’t know what to do, Mama Dee. She won’t talk to me.” Mingyu whines, on the verge of tears for the umpteenth time today.
“Of course she won’t. She’s stubborn just like her ornery ass father.” The aforementioned father pipes up in the background to defend himself but is quickly shut down. “Now back to you, Gyu Bear. You have messed up big time but I love you so I’m going to help you fix it but I have one question first.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Did you cheat on my daughter? And yes that ��harmless flirting’ shit you men folk like to do counts as cheating in my book.”
“Of course not! Wait…does Kam think I cheated?” Mingyu is floored and honestly a little angered at the fact that after all these years together Kamile thinks he’s actually capable of infidelity. The alcohol-induced haze clears long enough for his brain to recall a comment she’d made the night she left about whoever he was doing being worth it. 
“She sure does,” Sidra starts up, “but luckily for you, my gut says that you’re telling the truth and it hasn’t steered me wrong in the last 56 years so I don’t see a reason not to trust it now. So here’s what we’re going to do.”
Mingyu listens intently as Sidra outlines her master plan. Not for the first time, he’s in awe of the way her brain functions. The tightness in his chest subsides a little bit with every word she says. For the first time in the six days since Kamile left, Mingyu feels like his life has meaning again. His marriage might not be over after all. 
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Despite the fact that Kamile had no intention of answering any of Mingyu’s desperate pleas for attention, the sudden cessation of said pleas only serve to further increase her anguish. She’d originally thought she’d be able to finally find peace when he gave up, but that does not seem to be the case. A part of her didn’t want him to stop trying. Didn’t want him to stop fighting for her.
Did I make the right choice?
The question has haunted her every waking moment as she adjusts to her new normal. She’s been adrift for the last ten days trying to figure out her next plan of action. Should she stay in Korea? Should she go back to America? Should she throw a dart at a map and go wherever it lands? The possibilities are endless but Kamile finds herself unable to fully commit to either option which is how she’s ending up existing on takeout in a hotel for the past week and some change. God, why did she have to be so impulsive? She should’ve made sure that she had a game plan before she just up and left like that. 
Her phone rings on the small night stand, interrupting her self-loathing thoughts. Kamile groans when she sees that it’s her mother. Ever since she’d broken the news to her parents that she’d decided to leave Mingyu, her mom has been giving her grief. Kamile had always had a hunch that her mom loved Mingyu just as much if not more than she loved her, but their break up has made her think that her hunch had been closer to the truth than she’d previously thought.
“Hey, ma.” Kamile greets her mother apprehensively, bracing for the latest round of her mother’s reconciliation efforts. 
“Hello, my lovely daughter. I just landed in Seoul so if you don’t mind coming to get me from the airport that would be great.” Kamile chokes on the mouthful of noodles she’d been munching on. There’s no way in hell that her mother just said that she’s in Seoul. Sure enough, Kamile pulls her phone away from her ear to check her mother’s location and it says that she is in fact at the Incheon Airport. 
“Baby, what did I tell you about making sure you properly chew your food before swallowing. Did you forget what happened to your Uncle Tommy?” Kamile barely hears her mother’s recounting about the uncle who’d died from choking on a fish bone as she rushes around her hotel room gathering her things. She can’t believe her mom really flew halfway across the globe. Thankfully, her hotel isn’t far from the airport so Kamile is helping her mother put her bags in the back of her SUV in no time at all.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here?” Kamile questions as she eases her car into the steady stream of traffic bound for the exit. 
“You just left your husband and you didn’t come home to me so I don’t know what made you think that I wasn’t coming out here. A friend of mine is letting me stay with her since I know how you are about your space.” 
Kamile is more than a little thankful for that. Her mother can be overbearing when she’s on a mission and the fact that she’ll still be able to maintain some personal space is comforting. She’s only too happy to let the gps in her guide her to this friend’s house. The closer they get to their destination though the more unsettled she becomes. She has no idea why her gut is telling her to be suspicious, but she’s definitely not about to ignore it. Kamile��s sense are on high alert when she turns into the driveway of a nondescript home in one of the more affluent suburbs of the city. 
“Mom, what’s this friend’s name?” Kamile eyes the structure in front of her as if it could possibly grow teeth and bite her. Something is not right here and if there’s one thing her mother taught her, it’s to trust her gut instinct and right now her gut is telling her to throw her car in reverse and get the hell out of dodge. The only thing keeping her from running for the hills is the fact her mother seems so at ease as she hops out of the car to grab her bags. 
“Her name is Bae Yeojin. She studied abroad at Villanova her junior year and we were roommates. She’s got a pretty successful business now.” Kamile hums in acknowledgement. She vaguely recalls her mom telling her about a girl named Yeojin from college, but that does nothing to assuage the uneasiness in her gut. 
Kamile waits at the bottom of the steps as her mother knocks on the front door. Her fingers are drumming on banister, eyes glancing back and forth from the ornate door and her car. She clutches her keys like a lifeline. At the slightest provocation, she’s ready to bolt. The two women squeal like school children and not the established professionals they are at the first sight of each other. Kamile wonders briefly how long it’s been since they last saw each other.
“Kamile Danielle Kim get your ass up here and say hi.” Not one to disobey a direct order, especially one accompanied by her full name, Kamile reluctantly climbs the short staircase.
“Jesus, Sid, you really spit this one right out. She’s practically your twin.” Yeojin exclaims. She pulls Kamile into a quick hug before ushering the both of them inside. 
One deep breath and Kamile instantly realizes why she felt so uneasy. There’s candles burning in the foyer, but they do nothing to mask the familiar scent she’s spent the last six years smelling. Mingyu is in this house somewhere. She spins around to fix the two women with what she hopes is a threatening glare. Unfortunately, neither one of them appears to be phased by it in the slightest.
“What the hell is going on here?” Kamile’s quickly starting to realize that not trusting her gut has landed her in a situation she most definitely has no interest being in. Her eyes quickly dart back and forth between the two scam artists in front of her.
“I told you she’d figure it out. Pay up.” Yeojin doesn’t take her eyes off Kamile as she holds her hand out to Sidra who is grumbling while she digs in her purse to hand over a few bills.
“Dammit, Kam, did I really raise you to be this observant? You’re costing me money.”
“Yes, now what in the fresh hell do y’all have going on?” The answer to her question comes in the form of timid footsteps sounding off behind her. Her spine stiffens. She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. She can sense him. “Fuck this. I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not. Now turn your little narrow butt around and have a seat.” Sidra adopts the tone she’d frequently used when Kamile was growing up and even now as an adult Kamile knows that disobeying this direct order is not the right choice to make. 
It’s with a grimace, that she pivots on her heel to face her husband for the first time since she walked out on him. The satisfaction she feels when she sees just how awful he looks is cancelled out by the fact that she probably looks just as bad. It would be a lie to say that she hasn’t missed the comfort and solace his presence used to bring her. That she doesn’t want to let the outside world fade away as she hides away in his embrace. She wants that back. Craves it even, but enough is enough.
Curse words flow like running water through Kamile’s mind as her mother situates her on a love seat in the living room with Mingyu sat right next to her. His large frame dwarfs the slightly undersized piece of furniture. She can feel the body heat radiating off of him and it’s a battle of wills to keep from leaning into him. 
“First things first…” Sidra claps her hands as she and Yeojin take a seat on the sofa opposite the troubled couple, “I think now is a good time to mention that Ms. Yeojin here is actually a therapist who specializes in couples therapy.”
Of course she is.
Kamile rolls her eyes as the puzzle pieces start clicking into place. She could be buried under her blankets, binging on The Golden Girls right now, but no, her meddling ass mother has scammed her into marriage counseling instead. She should’ve ran when she had the chance.
“Based on what Sid has told me, the two of you are exactly one week shy of your first wedding anniversary and already on the verge of divorce. So, who would like to dump their emotional baggage on the floor first?” Yeojin glances between Kamile and Mingyu looking for a crack in their demeanor that she can exploit. Mingyu looks like he wants to hurl while Kamile’s face is a carefully constructed mask of indifference. She makes her choice easily.
“Mingyu, thank you for volunteering. Let’s hear it.” 
Put on the spot, Mingyu chances a glance sideways at Kamile before clearing his throat. Yeojin sits at the ready with her notebook and pen. She listens intently as Mingyu tells the fiasco as he sees it.
“I know I forget things sometimes. I try not to, but I’m an idol. I have a lot going on but that’s no different from when we first started dating so I don’t know why it’s suddenly such a big issue now.” Mingyu seems to find his voice as he speaks up on how he believes that he’s been wronged. The timid nervousness he’d felt before quickly getting pushed down so that his frustration can take over.
“When we first started dating, I wasn’t being abandoned in a house all day with nothing to do.” Kamile may have been grumbling under her breath but Mingyu hears her loud and clear. His head whips around so fas that the two mothers across from him silently worry about the neck pain that may cause him later. 
“You have nothing to do because you’ve turned down every opportunity that’s come your way.” Thoughts of the numerous job and consulting offers from Pledis and other entertainment companies like them that she turned down come flying to the forefront of his memory. Human resource agents have practically been beating down their door for the chance to work with Kamile, a creative visionary in her own right, but she’s rejected them one after another without a moment’s hesitation.
“You mean every opportunity that you have sent my way. Like why would I want to work at that entertainment company and be forced to watch that bitch Miyeon flirt with you every day like you’re not married?” Mingyu is forced to concede to her point with that one. Miyeon is one of the stylists at the company and, despite his repeated rejection, is too flirtatious for his liking as well. Unfortunately, she’s deeply entrenched in the corporate hierarchy and nothing short of murder would make the higher ups get rid of her even if all of the members have lodged complaints against her. 
“Is that the simple hoe you come home smelling like every time you’re ‘out with the boys’?” Kamile adds on as if she’s finally started connecting some dots in her overactive imagination. The fact that she has even entertained the thought of Mingyu not only cheating on her but cheating on her with Miyeon of all people makes his blood boil.  
“Why do you think I’m cheating on you? Why do you always just assume the worst about me? Do you think Vernon would ever let me even think about cheating on you? The man hates violence but he would beat my ass over you and we all know that.” The frown on Kamile’s face falters at the mention of her oldest friend. Mingyu is correct in saying that he would absolutely fight him, but there are still some thing that aren’t adding up. Yeojin attempts to halt the conversation so that they can delve deeper into what Mingyu just said but Kamile beats her to the punch. 
“You come home smelling like warm vanilla sugar every night when everybody knows that I am a Japanese cherry blossom supremacist. What am I supposed to think, Mingyu?” She can’t believe that he has the audacity to sit next to her and still lie. The palms of her hands itch with the urge to throw things but she’s done enough of that plus this isn’t exactly her house either.
“Seokmin always sprays us down with some random perfume because he says it keeps the women away and honestly, it actually works like a charm so I’m always first in line to get sprayed.” Kamile’s anger deflates almost immediately. To anyone that doesn’t know Lee Seokmin that would sound like a crock of shit, but it’s perfectly on brand for him.
“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”
“We’re fucking married, Kamile. You could’ve just asked. Better yet you could have come with me to these events like I’ve asked you to do a million times.” 
“You know I hate those things.”
“Everyone hates them, but I would hate them a lot less if I had you there with me. I just feel like I’ve been trying to make an effort but you’re not meeting me halfway.”
“I knew my Gyu Bear wasn’t a cheater!” Sidra, who hasn’t set a word since things had started to get heated, pipes up.
“God, Mom could you at least pretend that you love me more than him?” Kamile throws her hands up in frustration. Her mother’s obvious favoritism is really starting to get to her right now.
“Not until you start giving me less grief.”
“Now, now, Sid. Let’s not derail the progress we’re making here. Kamile, is there anything you’d like to bring to the table?” Yeojin pats her dear friend on the back of her hand to reign her back in. She’d hate to ruin the momentum they got going by having Kamile suddenly switch gears to argue with her mother.
Kamile is only too happy to tell her side of the story as she recounts the events of the night that she decided to leave Mingyu and how it was the tipping point for her. Yeojin listens intently, taking note of the fact that none of the issues that Kamile has with her husband are particularly heinous aside from the debunked cheating suspicions. Each transgression on it’s own wouldn’t be enough to end in divorce, but rather it’s the heaping pile of them that overwhelmed Kamile to the point that she felt she needed to get out.
The more she listens, the clearer it becomes to Yeojin that their marriage is suffering not because they don’t love one another but because they’ve forgotten how to talk to each other which has lead to an unfortunate disconnect. The biggest obstacle is definitely going to be Kamile’s determination to end things. She’s made up her mind and getting her to change her mind is not going to be easy.
“I think I’ve heard everything that I need to hear for today.” Yeojin sets her notepad down on her coffee table, relaxing in her chair a bit before she continues. “The first year in a marriage is usually the hardest, but that seems to have been exacerbated by the fact that the two of you have never lived together before now plus Kamile here has uprooted her entire life and moved to a new country.”
“Saving this marriage is going to take considerable effort on both sides in order to restore the balance you had before you said your vows. Here is what I recommend.”
Yeojin challenges the young couple to separate themselves from their daily lives for the next week and go somewhere remote. A place where it’s just the two of them without any outside influences. Of course, this won’t be just some run of the mill vacation. They’ll have “homework” of sorts that Yeojin will be checking to make sure they complete. Mingyu is all for it but Kamile is much more hesitant. All they’ve done is argue for the past few months and she’d rather not be stuck in a house arguing for two weeks straight. 
“I’ve spent the past year stuck in a house with no outside influences and look at where that’s gotten me. On the verge of a fucking divorce!” Mingyu looks like he has something to say, but Yeojin thankfully stops him before he can rile his wife up any more than she already is. 
“You’re not just going to be ‘stuck in a house’. Think of it like a game of Among Us. The two of you are crewmates and this wall that’s been built between you is the imposter.” Kamile looks at Yeojin as if she’s grown three extra heads. There’s no way she just related this counseling session to a freaking video game. 
“I will also stop bugging you about grandkids for six months if you go.” 
“You should’ve just started there. I’ll go.”
Yeojin claps her hands excitedly. She sounds way too happy to be shipping them off to self-guided marriage boot camp, but Kamile stays silent though that becomes increasingly difficult as her mother’s friends lists out the “tasks” she expects them to complete.
“So here’s the game plan, I want you two to be totally and completely honest with each other as much as possible for the entire time you’re gone. Often times in relationships, both parties will censor themselves as a way to keep the peace but that can be detrimental as it has been for you guys.” Mingyu and Kamile don’t realize it but they both frown simultaneously at the proposal of this honesty idea. Yeojin takes it as a positive sign that they are still in sync on some level. 
“If the thought of doing it all day is too daunting, then start with just one hour. This doesn’t mean that you have to sit and stare at each other for a whole hour and trade statements just act normally but speak honestly. Okay so far?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Mingyu casts a glance in Kamile’s direction, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out to her. He’s had to stop himself several times since she arrived and it’s not getting any easier.
While Kamile’s mind is running wild with all of the potential for disaster that an hour of honesty could result in, Yeojin powers on with the rest of her required tasks. On top of separating themselves from society and this so called honest hour, Yeojin has mandated that they share at least one meal together every day with one of them being dinner on their wedding anniversary. Just when Kamile thought that Yeojin couldn’t possibly pile more on, she brings up the “activity days”. Each of them will have to plan some sort of activity for the two of them to do together while they’re away. It could be as big or as small as they want, but it has to be meaningful. Mingyu draws Kamile’s attention when he pulls his phone out of his back pocket to start tapping away on the screen like a mad man.
“You guys have a lot of preparing to do in order to be ready to leave tomorrow so we’ll stop here for today. I’ll be checking in on you daily to assess your progress and offer any guidance you may need.” 
Kamile is out of her chair and halfway to the door before anyone can blink. The room suddenly feels too small as the gravity of what’s about to happen sinks in. She’d convinced herself that she no longer wanted to be married to Mingyu. She was so sure that her run as Mrs. Kim, albeit short as it was, had come to an end, but now she’s been confronted that her main reason for ending things was baseless. This is not how she thought things would go.
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Day 1
The drive from the hotel to the home she’s shared with Mingyu for the past year goes way too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu had texted her about having to go gas up the rental car so he’s nowhere to be seen when Kamile arrives. She sits in the driveway for a few minutes thinking of the memories saturated into the home that looms before her. The memories she had hoped to create. A stray tear slips down her cheek and she swipes at it furiously. She swore that she was done shedding tears over this but they just keep on coming.
Her pity party is interrupted by an unfamiliar SUV pulling into the driveway behind her. Kamile looks in the mirror to see Mingyu getting out of the driver’s seat. She does her best to erase the evidence of her tears, but the look on his face when she opens her own door says that she wasn’t very successful. 
“Are you-”
“I’m fine.” Kamile cuts him off before he can even finish his question. She stalks to the back of her car to start transferring her bags from her car to the behemoth of an SUV behind her.
“I’ll get them.” Mingyu takes the bag she’d already grabbed from Kamile’s hands, motioning to the passenger’s seat. Kamile, no longer in the mood to speak, wordlessly follows his directive and climbs into the SUV.
It takes Mingyu no time at all to load Kamile’s bags into the back with his own. 
“Obviously this is a sign that we should just leave.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to let a lost set of keys stand between me and keeping my marriage.”
“Why do you even care? Why are we even doing this?” Kamile screams. She’s been holding this in for far too long and she can’t take it anymore. 
“For better or for worse.” Mingyu’s face is a mask of carefully controlled fury and it’s giving Kamile pause. She’s never seen him like this before. “We promised each other for better or for worse and yet you’re ready to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble. I’ll admit that I’m not perfect and certainly played a role in why we’re here but I’m willing to put in the work to make it better because those vows meant something to me. I thought they meant something to you too.”
Kamile is incredibly taken aback at Mingyu’s fervent desire to stay married. She didn’t think that he cared that much anymore. Without any further protest, she joins him in the hunt for the elusive key to the front door. Fifteen minutes pass and they are no closer to gaining entry than they were when they first arrived. A rep with the rental company calls as they’re checking the bottom of the flower pots that line the front porch and tells them that the keys were mistakenly put in the mailbox. The same mailbox that sits at the end of the mile long driveway. Kamile makes to get back in the car to drive to the end of the driveway but Mingyu suggests walking it.
“It would be faster in the car.”
“You heard that therapist lady. We’re supposed to be spending time together. What better way to do it than by walking two miles?” Kamile walks back and forth as she considers her options. She can resist which will probably lead to yet another fight or she can just suck it up and walk to the mailbox. With a groan, she makes her decision.
“Fine, but if I get tired you’re carrying me.”
“Anything for you, my lady.” He bows deeply which almost makes Kamile crack a smile. She steels her resolve quickly though and reminds herself not to get caught up in his antics. He’s going to have to do a lot more than make her laugh in order to get out of the dog house.
The walk to the mailbox and back is quiet for the most part. Their footfalls join the hum of the wildlife in the woods that line the driveway on either side, but the jokes and playful jabs that used to fill the air between them is noticeably absent. Neither one is sure of what to say or do around the other anymore. Thankfully, the key is hanging on a hook inside the rather large mailbox.
Mingyu fully expected for Kamile to ask to be carried on the way back. She’s never been a huge fan of physical activity so it doesn’t come as a surprised to him when she starts whining halfway back to the cabin.
“I can’t do it just leave me here with my flower friends. I’ll become one with the forest.” Mingyu wordlessly moves to crouch down in front of her. He’s thankful that she can’t see his face to save himself the embarrassment of having to explain why he’s so excited to carry her for the last half mile to the end of the driveway.
Kamile doesn’t hesitate a single second to climb onto his back, clinging to him like a koala. It’s not lost on either one of them that this is the most physical contact they’ve had with each other in months. She’s wrapped around him tight enough that he doesn’t need to support her thighs, but he does it anyway. No way in hell is going to let this moment pass by without taking full advantage. 
They opt to spend the rest of the day just getting settled in. Yeojin had encouraged them to share a bedroom but Kamile is not down with that. Mingyu is disappointed when she wheels her suitcase into one of the guest bedrooms but he takes solace in the fact that she’s chosen the one right across the master where he’d dropped his things hoping she’d follow. He hopes that at some point in the next few days she’ll finally share a bed with him again. 
Dinner ends up being Thai takeout. Kamile has to admit that she’s impressed when Mingyu is able to rattle off her usual order with practiced ease. There once was a time when they’d get Thai food together all the time, but they’re so far removed from that time that she was sure he’d have forgotten by now. They eat without a single word exchanged before going their separate ways to bed.
Day 2
Mingyu wakes up before the sun despite the fact that he slept all of two hours the night before. His hands are on the verge of trembling from all of the nervous energy coursing through his body. Today is the official first day of marriage bootcamp and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s barely seven so there’s no way that Kamile has even attempted to get out of bed yet. Like a thief in the night, Mingyu creeps down the hall to peek into the bedroom that she had claimed as her own. A small smile graces his face at the cute way she hugs one of the throw pillows to her chest. It falters a little when his brain reminds him that she used to hug him close to her like that and not a pillow, but he shoves that depressing thought away for now. He has work to do.
The smell of bacon rouses Kamile from sleep, luring her down the stairs. She grunts a greeting at the man currently tending to a pan of scrambled eggs as she reaches for the stack of bacon on the counter to his left. Mingyu is quick to swat her hand away before she can secure her bounty.
“The eggs are almost done. Be patient.” Kamile whines at being chastised, scowling at the back of Mingyu’s head with disdain.
In the midst of her grumbling, she finally takes notice of his attire or the lack thereof. Saliva pools in her mouth at the sight of his muscles flexing as he cooks the eggs. Her gaze moves lower to his trim waist and the pair of gray sweatpants hanging from said waist in a way that has no business being as attractive as it is. Her fingers twitch with the urge to slide her hands beneath the waistband of those sweatpants to get at that prize she knows is there but she keeps them to herself.
“Earth to Kamile.” Mingyu chants as he waves a spatula in front of her face. She blinks rapidly, doing her best to clear the thick fog of arousal from her mind. The uncomfortable sensation of her panties sticking to her skin is quickly forgotten when Mingyu holds up a plate peeled high with bacon, eggs, and blueberry pancakes.
“Thanks, Gyu.” Kamile murmurs as she takes the proffered plate and heads for the table. She falters half a step when she realizes that she’s let his nickname slip. She prays that he didn’t notice and if he did, she prays he doesn’t say anything about it.
“Gyu? Haven’t heard that one in a while.” Looks like that prayer went unanswered. The shit eating grin on Mingyu’s face makes her itch. 
“I’m hungry and thankful. Don’t push it.” 
They eat in silence. The only sounds are their forks as they make contact with their plates.  Mingyu is kicking himself in the ass for not saying anything but his brain is short circuiting. Thankfully, the buzzing from the intercom by the front door signaling that someone is at the front gate. It’s the special grocery delivery he’d requested for the first of their planned activity days. 
“What’s all this for?” Kamile asks curiously. She pokes through a few of the bags to see fresh strawberries and a variety of other fruits along with a very large bag of rice cakes.
“I was thinking we could have a picnic today for our first planned activity.” His heart races as he waits for Kamile’s reaction to his idea. She munches on a piece of bacon as she continues to pull things out of bags.
“I dig it.” Mingyu feels weak with relief at his idea being well-received. “Why so many rice cakes though?”
“You’ve been a tteokbeokki fiend since we met. Didn’t see the point in depriving you while we’re here if I could just make it for you.” Kamile groans at the thought. She’s more than capable of feeding her own addiction with the spicy rice cake dish, but she’s never been able to make it as good as Mingyu. Despite the fact that she just ate, she contemplating requesting that he make a batch of it right now.
Mingyu grabs a knife to start chopping up some of the fruit. Kamile takes a seat at the island across from him, propping her chin in her hand as she watches him work. She’s always loved watching him cook almost as much as eating the food he makes. She can’t even remember the last time that she was able to do this. It feels like a lifetime ago. Her eyes with sparkle with fascination watching him prepare the food for their picnic. 
“Open up.” Mingyu holds a strawberry up to her lips and Kamile opens her mouth without hesitation. The berry is perfectly ripe and so juicy that a stream of it runs down her chin. Mingyu reaches out to swipe it away, licking the liquid from his thumb. 
“Tasty.” Kamile squirms in her seat at the way his lips wrap around his thumb. Time for her to make an escape before she does something crazy like fuck her husband in someone else’s kitchen. 
Mingyu watches Kamile hastily retreat with barely concealed glee. He’d thought that she’d stopped being attracted to him, but that is incorrect if the results of the little experiment he’d decided to conduct are to be believed. He smiles to himself as he continues cutting up fruit. There might be hope for them yet.
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After agonizing longer than he should have over the best spot to set up their little picnic, Mingyu finally picks a spot. He’s so focused on how best to arrange everything on the blanket that he doesn’t even notice Kamile creeping up behind him. He nearly jumps out of his own skin when she clears her throat much to Kamile’s amusement.
“Did I scare you?” It’s clear to her that she did, but making him admit it is too good for her to pass up. 
“No…maybe.” Kamile hums in response, kneeling across from him on the blanket. “That dress is really pretty on you.”
“Thank you.” She mumbles in response. It’s been so long since she’s heard any sort of praise or compliment from Mingyu that she doesn’t even know how to respond anymore. It almost feels brand new. 
Eager to rid herself of the awkwardness blooming in her chest, Kamile grabs a fork and shoves what she thinks is a potato straight in her mouth. In her haste, she fails to realize that the potato she thought she had is actually an onion. Mingyu doubles over with laughter at the pure disgust painted across Kamile’s face. She desperately wants to spit it out but she was raised to believe that spitting out perfectly good food is only a half step below a sin so she powers through. She chugs one of the glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade on the small tray to her right as Mingyu continues to cackle at her plight. 
“You set me up for failure.” Kamile has hated onions from the womb according to the stories her mother told about the smell of onions making her nauseous for her entire pregnancy. Mingyu must pay for this. 
“I purposely cut them big enough for you to easily pick them out. You weren’t supposed to eat them.” Mingyu defends himself breathily as he tries desperately to stop laughing. Kamile reaches out to punch him in the arm which only serves to make him laugh harder.
Silence falls over them again although, unlike breakfast this morning, they’re able to exchange some small talk here and there. The awkwardness that they’d started off with wanes and wanes until they’re left comfortably enjoying each other’s presence for the first time in a long time. 
Mingyu finds himself unable to take his eyes off of Kamile. He’d meant it when he’d said that the yellow sundress she’s wearing looked pretty on her. It compliments the rich mahogany of her skin as if it was made especially for her. The plethora of curls that he’s always loved are full of life as she bobs her head side to side, one of her many habits that Mingyu has always adored. His chest feels tight with the weight of his love for her. He can’t believe that he nearly let her slip away.
“You’re staring, Mingyu.” Kamile says between bites of the strawberry she’d grabbed. Mingyu opens his mouth to answer when a distant rumble beats him to the punch. 
“Oh shit.” 
The two of them hastily toss the near empty dishes back into the picnic basket. Dark clouds are steadily rolling in with the speed of a bullet train. Just when they think they might be able to make it back into the house, their luck runs out. The rain comes down in sheets, drenching them in seconds. Kamile is so thankful that the lack of pockets on her dress lead to her choosing to leave her phone inside.
Kamile is the worst mood when they finally reach the safety of the house. She just went through the stress and physical exhaustion of wash day two days ago and now she has to do it all over again five days ahead of schedule. 
“Did you not check the fucking weather before you decided to turn us into sitting ducks outside?” She seethes. Mingyu arches a brow in confusion at her sudden mood swing.
“Of course I did. It was supposed to be nothing but sunshine all week.”
“Well, clearly that was a lie but I’ve grown to accept that from you. Now I’ve got to go suffer through wash day ahead of schedule.” Mingyu winces at her words, but he’s nothing if not an opportunist so he chooses to ignore it in favor of jumping on the more important statement Kamile just made. 
“Can I help you with your hair?” He asks as he follows his grumpy wife up the staircase. She pauses outside her room to fix him with a glare.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why? I’ve always helped you with your hair.” In his mind, this isn’t a huge request. The Kamile he knew used to be only too happy to allow him to hand over her hair products for him to do her extensive wash day routine for her. He’d actually gotten so good at it that he’d even started doing her younger sisters’ hair whenever he was in the states to visit.
“I barely know who you are anymore and you expect me to let you touch my hair? Not a chance in hell.” Kamile’s voice climbs in volume until she’s practically yelling. 
The last thing Mingyu wants to do today is fight, but enough is enough. Their screams echo through the spacious house as they go back and forth over Kamile’s mistrust of Mingyu. He doesn’t get it and she thinks it’s incredibly shocking that he doesn’t. Kamile’s phone rings somewhere in the bedroom she has yet to enter, effectively interrupting their spat. She leaves Mingyu in the hallway in favor of answering it and groans out loud when she sees that it’s a FaceTime call from Yeojin. She’d forgotten all about the daily check-ins that the therapist had mentioned she’d be conducting. She goes back out to the hallway and drags Mingyu with her to the staircase so they can get this call over with without ruining the carpet in her room. 
“Hello, love birds! How’s everything going?” Yeojin chirps once the call connects. Her hopeful smile falters slightly when she sees the sour looks on her clients’ faces.
Mingyu is only too happy to give the attentive marriage counselor a full rundown of what was happening before she called. Kamile scowls at him the entire time. To hear him tell it, she’s the bad guy but anyone with common sense would’ve left her alone after she’d made it perfectly clear that she was not in the mood to have a conversation. She can’t wait for Yeojin to drag him therapeutically for not picking up on that. 
“Kamile, what do you think lead to you lashing out like that? The rain was not his fault.” The woman in question is thrown off when the outcome she was expecting doesn’t come to fruition.
“He should’ve checked the weather before deciding to have a picnic outside but that’s neither here nor there. I feel like I made it very clear that I didn’t want to talk to him and yet he kept pressing the issue.” Kamile can’t believe that she has to defend herself. Mingyu is so hasty with responding that it sounds like a keyboard smash is coming out of his mouth.
“I would like to make it known that I did not say one word to you when we came back inside until you started yelling at me.” He looks incredibly smug as he watches Kamile’s mouth open and close as she tries to think of a way to refute his statement. “I would also like to make it known that I have been obsessive about every detail of this picnic and I would have never had it outside if there was even a slight chance that it might rain. Maybe if you had a little more faith in me you could see that.”
“And that brings me to my next point.” Yeojin begins. “We’ve established that the infidelity was a myth, so why do you continue to hold on to that mistrust, Kamile? I want you to really think about it and be completely honest with both us and yourself. I’m not saying that whatever you’re feeling is wrong because you are entitled to feel that way but I think it would be good for the both of you if why you feel that way is better understood.”
The theme of the day continues to be silence as Kamile ponders the question put before her. She’s mature enough to admit that not trusting Mingyu while also admitting that she believes him when he says that he didn’t cheat is contradictory. The root of that contradiction is something she’s been trying to avoid ever since she got roped into that surprise therapy session. Mingyu’s alleged infidelity had been her out. Her escape. She had cut and run on the back of a false truth and that reality is something that’s been hard for her to process. Tears well up in Kamile's eyes as she thinks back to Mingyu’s rant about their wedding vows when they’d first arrived. She’d thought that everything was his fault and being forced to face the truth is difficult. Mingyu’s harsh glare softens as he reaches out to wipe the tears from her face as they start to fall. He sighs when she pulls away from him.
“I can see that I’ve found a sore spot so I won’t press this any further today. We’ll revisit this in the future.” Yeojin gives them some tips on how to better communicate before she ends the call.
Kamile is only too happy to end the call so she can lock herself in her room. She doesn’t even come back out for dinner despite Mingyu all but begging outside of her door. He’s not sure what mental dots she connected when they were talking to Yeojin, but whatever it was seems to have upset her more than he’d originally thought.
A weather alert comes through on Mingyu’s phone as he watches TV downstairs. Apparently the storm that had snuck up on them earlier is part of a much larger system of severe weather that changed course and is expected to hang around the area for the next day or two. His first thought is Kamile. She’s terrified of thunderstorms. Always has been. 
He thinks back to a time before they started dating when Kamile was just Vernon’s pretty American friend that he had a huge crush on. She had come to Korea to visit and insisted on sleeping on the couch despite the fact that everyone tried to give up their room for her. Much like today, a nasty storm rolled in and in her panicked state she had accidentally ended up in his room instead of Vernon’s. The realization had been comical and she’d tried to leave to go to the right room, but a sudden clap of thunder that seemed to shake the whole building sent her diving into his arms where she stayed for the rest of the night. She slept through a thunderstorm for the first time in her life that night. A selfish part of him hopes that this storm brings him the same luck he had all those years ago.
Day 3
Heavy rain beats against the window like a prize fighter while thunder rattles Kamile’s brain until she feels like screaming. There aren’t many things that strike true fear in her heart, but thunderstorms are definitely somewhere in the top five things on that list. She’s got her headphones in and her music blasting, but it does very little to drown out the war going on outside. She rips the blankets from her body and makes for the bedroom door to go get in bed with Mingyu but like the fifty other times she’s attempted to do that she stops herself in the hallway. The door shuts with a soft click as she seals herself back in her own personal hell. 
Kamile jolts awake not even aware of when she had even managed to fall asleep. Sweat has glued her clothes to her skin and it’s making her skin crawl the longer she lays there. She groans aloud when she hears the rain still beating against the window pane. The alarm clock on the nightstand says that it’s just barely six in the morning which means it’s been exactly one hour since she apparently passed out from exhaustion. A rumble off in the distance lets her know that she probably won’t be getting more sleep any time soon so she drags herself to the bathroom for a shower. 
Freshly showered and in desperate need of caffeine, Kamile makes for the kitchen. Mingyu’s bare back comes into view for the second consecutive morning when she rounds the corner. His hair is sticking up in odd directions and he looks to be five seconds from falling asleep standing up as he stabs at the buttons on the coffee maker.
“Why are you up so early?”
“You need coffee.” He replies with a yawn.
“Yeah, but I can make it myself. You didn’t need to lose sleep to make me coffee.” She protests. Mingyu turns to glare at her until Kamile raises her hands in surrender.
“If you’re up, I’m up.” Kamile shakes her head at him as she pulls two mugs out of the cabinet. No sense in arguing with him when he’s clearly made up his mind about suffering.
The two of them sit in silence side by side, sipping their coffee, and staring out the window watching Mother Nature do her thing. Out of habit, Kamile leans over to rest her head on MIngyu’s shoulder. She stiffens when she realizes what she’s doing. Mingyu holds his breath. Scared that if he makes any sudden movements the bubble will burst and she’ll move away from him. She surprises the both of them when she lets the tension drain from her shoulders instead, relaxing into him.
“I’m sorry.” Kamile whispers into the void. If Mingyu wasn’t so acutely focused on her every move, he probably wouldn’t have even heard it over the wind. 
“Me too.” He turns his head to softly kiss the top of her head, taking a moment to inhale the familiar scent of her hair products. He never knew it was possible to miss a singular smell so much.
They’ve exchanged exactly four words since they sat down at the table, but they mean so much. There’s a near palpable shift in the air. Like a switch has flipped. An unspoken truce between them that they are in this together. Kamile lifts her head to finish her coffee and Mingyu immediately misses the weight of her head on his shoulder.
“Did you ever finish watching The Originals?” Kamile asks before downing the last of her coffee.
“No, it was kind of our thing so I haven’t watched it since we stopped watching it together.” She hums in response.
“Well, it looks like we’re going to be stuck in this house all day so we may as well pick up where we left off.” Mingyu nearly chokes on his coffee. He can’t even remember the last time Kamile willingly suggested that they spend time together. He pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming which she rolls her eyes at. 
“Come on. You’re in charge of snacks.”
For the next eight hours, their butts are glued to the couch. They only get up to use the bathroom and replenish their snack pile. They’ve spent so much of their time arguing that Kamile had forgotten how much she loved just being with Mingyu. Klaus is about to rain down hellfire on some of his enemies when Mingyu’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his sweatpants. Kamile can feel it against her own thigh and it’s only then that she realizes the way that they’ve gravitated towards each other over the course of the day. If she were to get any closer to him, she’d be sitting in his lap. Mingyu had intended to ignore the call, thinking it might be someone from the company despite his strict instructions not to contact him, but he answers it instead when he sees that it’s Yeojin. 
“Well don’t you two look cozy. I was planning to pick up where we left off yesterday, but I’d rather talk about this first.” Yeojin looks entirely too smug as she brings attention to the lack of space between the two of them. Mingyu half expects Kamile to scoot away from him now that it’s been pointed out just how close they are, but she stays put. 
“Can’t a girl just sit next to her husband without being questioned to death?” Kamile asks playfully. Yeojin chuckles and moves on with their daily check in. 
“Fine, fine I’ll leave it alone. Let’s get down to business. Mingyu we didn’t get to hear from you a lot yesterday so I’d like to get into how you felt when Kamile left. What was that like for you?” Yeojin rests her chin on her hand as she waits to see what’s going to come out of the box of emotions she just opened. 
Mingyu briefly realizes that this is the first time he’s talked about that day to anyone as he recounts that dark morning like the nightmare it was. Kamile listens in stunned silence while he tells his story. After seeing the bags under his eyes at Yeojin’s house, she’d figured that he’d suffered just like she had, but she’d never imagined that waking up to find her rings and the note she’d left had affected him to the extent that it did. The guilt that’s been festering in her gut increases tenfold at the thought of him heaving into the toilet.
“I knew things weren’t the greatest but I truly did believe that we were strong enough to get through whatever. Divorce never crossed my mind even once so it killed me to know that it had not only crossed her mind but became a viable option that she ran with. I get why she thought that was the best option now, but then it felt like I’d been blindsided.” Mingyu explains. His words are laced with the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. Kamile picks at the words screen printed down one of the legs of her sweatpants wishing that a hold would open beneath her and swallow her up. She’s never felt so low.
“Kamile, I see you’re getting emotional. What are you feeling right now?” Yeojin gently pries. Mingyu pulls Kamile into him as his own emotions start getting the better of him. Yeojin is pleased to note that, unlike yesterday, Kamile doesn’t snatch away from him. 
“I was so focused on how unhappy I was that I didn’t consider anything else. It was all about me, me, me.” Kamile stares off into space as she opens up. She’s never talked about this with anyone but her best friends. In hindsight, they might not be sitting where they are right if she’d just talked to Mingyu about it ages ago but then again hindsight is always 20/20. “I visited Korea plenty of times when we were dating, but living here as the black wife of an idol has been so hard. Being from America, I’m used to people treating me different because of my skin color but when people feel entitled to be so invasive about it because of who I’m married to…it’s different.”
Mingyu’s jaw is on the floor as he listens to the struggles that his wife was having right under his nose and he never knew. He noticed that she’d become more withdrawn and hostile but he could never figure out why and she wouldn’t tell him when he asked. It comes as no surprise to him now that she stopped going outside. He can’t exactly blame her. Seventeen is going on their eighth year so Mingyu is a seasoned veteran at ignoring the things people say on the internet. Unfortunately, Kamile didn’t have that luxury. His stomach turns at the tales of her being approached on the street by people who wrongly called themselves fans thinking they were protecting him. The racist comments made about her online. She was suffering and he just let it go on thinking that she was just being moody.
“Do you think that caused you to develop a little resentment for Mingyu and his idol status?” 
Kamile’s first instinct is to say no, but given that they are supposed to be as honest possible she tamps down the lie before it can slip out. She did resent that she’d fallen for someone with such great public notoriety sometimes. It was different when she was just one of Vernon’s childhood friends. The general public didn’t really care what she did from day to day, but now one wrong move turns her into a trending topic and she doesn’t know how to handle it. There are days that she wishes that Mingyu was just a normal person, but then they would have never met and that’s not a reality she truly wants to live in despite her feelings towards him when she walked out. 
“Maybe a little bit but I know we’d have never met if he wasn’t Mingyu from Seventeen so it’s pointless really.” 
They talk with Yeojin a little while longer before she has to go to her next appointment. The air between them is heavy with the weight of the secrets that have come to light. It’s a stifling atmosphere and it’s beginning to drive Kamile insane. She reaches for the remote to restart their show, but Mingyu takes it from her.
“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” His eyes are misty as he struggles to hold himself back from crying once more. He could kick himself for not doing his best to shield her from the people that had killed her spirit.
“You’re already so busy and the last thing I wanted to do was add to everything else on your plate.” Mingyu wants to scream. She means more to him than being an idol. She always has. He cups her face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers. 
“Promise me that you won’t hold stuff inside like that anymore and I promise to be better at not letting you. Deal?”
“Deal.” Kamile’s eyes flutter closed as Mingyu pulls away to press his lips to her forehead. 
He clears his throat before grabbing the remote to resume their show. For the next few hours, conversation is limited to the messy lives of the supernatural beings on the screen before them. The wind still howls. The rain is unceasing. Yet in the little bubble of Netflix and snacks that they’ve created, it may as well not even exist. 
Until bedtime that is.
“You know,” Mingyu says as they file up the stairs. The seemingly ever present bad weather still continues, “…you don’t have to sleep alone. I know you don’t like storms.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” It would be so easy to take him up on his offer. She could finally get some sleep, but for whatever reason she can’t bring herself to do it.
“Well you know where I am if you change your mind. Good night, Kamile.”
“Good night, Mingyu.”
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Kamile stares at the ceiling in despair. She didn’t think it was possible for the storm to get worse but apparently Mother Nature took that as a challenge. She’s starting to genuinely concerned about whether or not the window by her bed can withstand the force of the weather it’s being forced to deal with. Kamile contemplates running to Mingyu’s room but shuts that idea down for the millionth time. Things feel...different between them after today’s call with Yeojin but she’s not sure if they’ve been different enough to justify hopping into bed with him quite yet. 
“This is fine. I don’t need to sleep.” She whispers into the void. 
She’s accepted her fate and made peace with it. Or at least that’s what she thought she’d done. A crack of lighting illuminates the room despite the blackout curtains over the window followed by a thunderous boom so loud it seems to vibrate her very being. Kamile is across the hall before she even has the time to process what she’s doing. Mingyu is out cold when she bursts into the room. Her brain chooses that moment to catch up to what she’s doing and flips on the switch of self-consciousness. Another loud boom has her throwing caution to the wind once more, sliding beneath the blanket to get as close to him as possible without waking him up. 
Kamile lays next to him a trembling anxious mess as the storm rages on. She’s so consumed by her own fear that she doesn’t even notice the man next to her has roused from sleep until he’s wrapped both of his arms around her to pull her into his warm chest. It’s as if the environmental warfare outside ceases to exist the second Kamile’s cheek makes contact with Mingyu’s skin. His presence drowns everything out just like it did all those years ago. The sleep that had been evading her comes quickly in his embrace. 
Day 4
A ray of sunlight shines perfectly through a crack in the curtain to hit Kamile square in the face. She squirms around trying to escape it and gets a frustrated groan in response. It’s then that she registers the weight of the arm that rests loosely across her midsection. The memory of running to Mingyu’s bed in the middle of the night comes rushing back to her. Her first instinct is to bolt, but she’s so touch starved that she finds herself turning in his hold in a bid to get closer. 
“Good morning.” Mingyu grunts something in response that she’s sure he thought sounded like good morning.
He slots one of his legs between hers and unintentionally allows her to feel the morning wood barely contained by his boxer briefs. Mingyu’s even breathing indicates that he’s fallen back asleep. Kamile would love to do the same but all of her attention is laser focused on the hardened appendage intimately pressed against her upper thigh. A damp spot has already started forming in her panties. She needs to get out of this bed now. Kamile squirms and wiggles around trying to get away, but it would seem that her efforts are having the opposite effect. A throaty groan slips from Mingyu’s lips.
“Stop moving.” He mumbles still half asleep. Kamile does her best to stop fidgeting and focus her attention elsewhere, but it’s not working. Her inner muscles clench around nothing as thoughts of what Mingyu could do to her dance dangerously through her mind. 
“I have to pee.” Mingyu cracks one eye open. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that he doesn’t believe her for a second but he releases her anyway. He sighs as he watches her run off to the en suite bathroom. 
Mingyu is noticeably absent when Kamile emerges from the bathroom fresh off a rushed orgasm though hardly sated. She follows the scent of coffee downstairs to find Mingyu bent over digging through one of the crisper drawers in the refrigerator. Back before everything went to shit she would’ve slapped his ass with glee and run away before he could exact his revenge. Good times.
“Did you hear what I said?” Kamile was so focused on his ass that she hadn’t even registered the fact that Mingyu had said anything.
“Huh?”
“I said do you want to get in the hot tub later since we can go outside now?” He repeats as he hands over a cup of coffee already milky and sweet the way she likes it.
“It’s almost 80 degrees outside and you want to get in a hot tub?” She questions slowly to which Mingyu responds with an emphatic yes. “Be honest. Are you just trying to see me in a bikini?”
“Absolutely.” He giggles when Kamile reaches out to smack him on the arm. “Why are you attacking me? Yeojin said we have to be honest at all times.” 
“I don’t think that included being a horny little shit.”
“I’m a man with eyes and a hot wife. I can’t help.” Despite the compliment, Kamile’s mood sours at his words. Mingyu’s freshly honed observation skills picks up on it immediately.
“Uh oh, did I say something wrong?”
“If I’m so hot, then why haven’t we had sex in four months? We used to go at it like rabbits and then one day you just stopped initiating things.” 
Mingyu is quick to point out that he did try to have sex with her plenty of times, but she pushed him away. Eventually, he gave up. It’s almost funny when the dots start connecting in her head. Her personal struggles had originally been why she denied him sex, but then he’d started coming home doused in perfume so she really didn’t want anything to do with him then. Mingyu has never been a very pushy person so he figured he’d just wait her out. He didn’t think that he’d end up in a four month dry spell (and counting), but he was also not about to look for satisfaction outside of his marriage either. 
“How about we save this sex talk until after I’m finished cooking? All of the blood in my body is rushing south and these rice cakes are starting to look like nipples.” Kamile nearly chokes on the water she’d just taken a sip of. Tears pour from her eyes as her body can’t decide if it wants to laugh or die of asphyxiation. 
“Woah, woah! When we said till death do us part I was hoping we’d be farting dust not barely 26.” Kamile is sure that he wants her dead now as her internal war between laughing and choking only gets worse. 
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Despite her earlier protests, Kamile finds herself seated across from Mingyu in the hot tub later that evening as they watch the sun set. She fully expects him to try something from the way his eyes keep drifting south to stare at her chest, but he’s on his best behavior the entire time. 
Day 5
“Hello, love birds! I missed you two yesterday. What happened?” Yeojin looks hesitant almost as if she’s scared of their answer. She looks downright relieved to hear that they missed her call because they fell asleep cuddling on the couch. After getting a run down of everything that’s happened since they last spoke, she encourages them to continue sleeping in the same bed together. 
“Couples often downplay the amount of good that just being physically close to your partner can be. If you’re both comfortable sleeping next to each other without a thunderstorm being the driving force, please keep doing it.” Yeojin pleads before ending the call to go to her next appointment. 
Her words hang in the air even after she’s gone. Mingyu looks over at Kamile with a questioning look on his face. It’s clear that he’s after her opinion on this whole shared bed situation, but Kamile doesn’t have much to say on the matter. The two of them have been pretty much inseparable during the day now, but she’s still nervous about sleeping in the same bed together and she doesn’t know how to shake that feeling. She was too scared to think about it last night but without the weather to distract her she’s not so sure if sit’s a good idea.
“What’s going on in there?” Mingyu taps a finger against Kamile’s temple to get her attention. She shakes her head but he’s got a feeling it’s about what Yeojin’s bed sharing idea.
“If this is about sharing a bed, don’t worry about. You’ve got the rest of the day to decide.” She nods in acknowledgement of his point but Mingyu can tell that the gears in her head are turning even faster than before. Her overthinking is going to give her a headache.
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Night time comes entirely too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu has kept her so busy that she hasn’t had the time to sit down to sort through her thoughts. Knowing him, he probably did that on purpose. He always hated her habit of overthinking everything, preferring to live in the moment and make decisions as they arose. Kamile has never had much success doing that which is why they work so well together. He balances her out and helps her weed out the important aspects of the topic at hand to make faster decisions. 
Her mind is racing as they climb the stairs on their way to bed. Mingyu stops at the door to his bedroom and looks at her with such hope on his face that she almost feels guilty for what she’s about to say. His face falls when Kamile tells him that she thinks it’s better for them to sleep in their own respective rooms tonight. Mingyu is a good sport about it, bidding her good night with a lingering kiss to her forehead. 
Falling asleep has never been a problem for Mingyu which is why he’s utterly confused when he’s still wide awake three hours after getting into bed. He’s in danger of pulling the sheets off of the mattress on one side from how much he’s been tossing and turning. 
This is bullshit. I’ve been sleeping fine every night. What’s the difference now?
Mingyu sits up to fluff his pillows. It doesn’t help. He kicks the ceiling fan up a notch. That doesn’t help either. He counts sheep, ducks, and even cows, but nothing is working. The longer he tries to avoid the obvious the more awake he seems to be. Sleeping in the guest room most nights to avoid arguing had taught him to sleep alone. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold her again, he’s ruined. He wonders briefly if Kamile is awake too. Is she just as restless too? 
He tosses and turns for the better part of another hour. The clock on his phone says that 3 a.m is quickly approaching and Mingyu caves. It takes less than ten seconds to cross the hall to her room, but practicing his explanation as to why he’s in her room at ass o’clock in the morning takes much longer. He knocks twice and pokes his head in.
“Kam?”
“You can’t sleep either, huh?” She asks without even turning to look at the man poking his head into her bedroom. 
Mingyu nearly collapses from sheer relief when Kamile simply reaches behind herself to lift the blankets after he confirms that he’s been unable to fall asleep just like her. He wastes no time sliding in behind her. Before he can even get it out of his mouth to ask, Kamile reaches back to find his arm, pulling it across her waist. 
“Good night, Gyu.” Kamile whispers. Her words are slurred as if she’s already half asleep. Mingyu kisses her shoulder, letting his lips linger against her skin.
“Good night, Kam.”
Day 6
A feather light touch to her lower lip is what prompts Kamile to open her eyes long before she’s ready. She pulls back slightly once her vision clears and she realizes just how close Mingyu’s face is to her own. He even has the audacity to laugh at her surprise.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He’s not sure how long he’s been watching her sleep, but he’d do it for the rest of his days. The pesky organ in his chest skips a beat as he holds Kamile’s gaze like a lifeline. He mulls over his next words very carefully, preparing for a possible rejection just as he did when he came to her room in the middle of night. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please do.” She whispers into the inch of space that separates them. 
Mingyu closed the gap slowly as if he’s giving her time to change her mind. Kamile sighs when his lips finally touch hers. One of his hands comes up to untie the silk scarf tied protectively around her head so that he can bury his hand in the curls he’s always been obsessed with. He uses his grip on her to guide her head as he deepens the kiss. 
She rolls onto her back and pulls him with her so that his much larger frame nearly covers hers entirely. Mingyu lets his primal instincts take over. Too lost in the way her lips are moving against his own. A groan rattles his chest when she squirms beneath him until his hips are situated between her thighs. The thin fabric of their respective underwear are the only barriers separating his aching erection from the place she needs him most. He can’t resist the urge to grind himself against her. If his brain wasn’t so clouded in lust, he’d probably have the mental capacity to feel a little embarrassed at just how quickly he’s risen to full mast. Kamile is floating somewhere beyond cloud nine when Mingyu’s hand that had been cradling her head moves to lightly grip her throat instead while the other rhythmically squeezes and pushes at her ass in time with his thrusts. Her head is tipped back in ecstasy as he kisses along her jaw.
It takes a herculean effort that he wasn’t totally sure he was even capable of, but Mingyu separates himself from the panting woman in his arms. He rocks back on his heels and Kamile’s eyes are immediately drawn to the tantalizing bulge at the apex of his shapely thighs. She reaches for him but Mingyu grabs her wrist before she can get her hands on him. He lifts her hand to his lips, pressing kisses to the back of it.
“Trust me when I say that I would love nothing more than to ravage you right now but if I’m going to be inside you again, I want you to have my ring on your finger.” Kamile starts to speak but stops when Mingyu presses his index finger to her lips. He traces the outline of her kiss swollen lips almost as if he’s in a trance. “I don’t want you to make a decision that you’re not totally comfortable with just because you’re horny. I want you to really want it. I want you to really want us. Now get up so I can feed you.”
A vulgar comment about what she really wants him to feed her crosses Kamile’s mind as Mingyu playfully swats at her thighs to get her moving. She respects his resolve and keeps it to herself but only barely. 
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“It’s super nice outside. Wanna go for a walk?” Kamile would actually rather stay inside and enjoy the comforts of the air-conditioning, but Mingyu looks so excited that she finds herself giving in. She disappears upstairs to put on her sneakers mentally kicking herself for being so whipped for the man waiting for her by the patio door.
Mingyu laces his fingers between Kamile’s
They happen across a small stream during their casual stroll around the property. Kamile stops to look at Mingyu to see if he’s on the same wavelength as her. 
“Let’s do it.” 
Their shoes are abandoned under a tree near the creek before running full speed into the water.  The cooler temperature of the water feels like heaven. Kamile squeals when Mingyu splashes her with water. Mingyu suddenly lifts her over his shoulder, using the hand that’s not holding on to her to splash Kamile with more water. She’s out of breath from laughing when he finally lets her down only to steal the rest of her breath away when he surprises her with a kiss. 
“What was that for?” She’s slightly dazed both from the lack of oxygen and the searing kiss he’s just laid on her.
“Because.” He smirks at her before swooping in for yet another kiss.
“And that one?”
“Because part two.” Kamile giggles at his corniness even though she does her best not to give him the satisfaction of knowing it gets to her. Mingyu’s smile somehow gets even bigger at the sound of her laughter. He digs his fingers into his sides to prolong her laughter for his own enjoyment. 
They spend a little longer frolicking around before finally heading back to the house to shower and start on dinner. Kamile unsuccessfully lobbies to shower together but Mingyu is adamant in his refusal. He’s positive that the self-control he exhibited earlier that morning used up all the restraint he could’ve ever hoped to have for the next six months. There’s no way he’d be able to deny her. He kisses her quickly before running off to his own bathroom. 
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Mingyu is totally and completely in love. He absentmindedly pushes his food around with his fork as he listens to Kamile rant about the mistreatment and near erasure of some X-Men character named Darwin. He’s got absolutely no idea what she’s talking about but she’s so passionate about it that he can’t help being fascinated. 
“Darwin’s whole entire superpower was that he could adapt to anything and you mean to tell me that robots designed to adapt to and counteract the powers of mutants were built off of Mystique’s DNA? Absolutely not. I might be a little-” Her rant is cut short by her phone ringing on the kitchen counter where she’d left it. She grumbles about being interrupted as she gets up to go get it. It’s Yeojin. 
Kamile returns to the table with her phone, choosing to sit in Mingyu’s lap for their daily check-in. The marriage counselor should get a kick out of that one. Sure enough, their seating arrangement is the first thing that Yeojin comments on. They take turns updating her on everything that’s occurred since they last spoke with her though they leave out some of the more sordid details. 
“This is what I like to hear!” She exclaims with an excited clap of her hands. “It seems that everything is going well right now. Is there anything we haven’t talked about this week that one of you wants to go over? If not, I’m comfortable ending the call here.” They say their goodbyes after confirming that they feel like they’re in a good place right now. Yeojin makes them swear to call her the moment they think they need her but she doubts that she’ll be hearing from them  until their follow-up appointment in a few days. 
Kamile makes to get up to return to her own chair but Mingyu stops her. She shrugs and reaches across the table to grab her own bowl. He smiles to himself as she resumes the rant that she’d been in the middle of before Yeojin’s call. He still has no idea what she’s going on about but he’s content to just listen to her vent. 
Day 7
Anxiety twisting her gut into knots is what eventually pulls Kamile from the bliss of sleep. Mingyu’s side of the bed is empty and she’s thankful for that to a certain extent. She heads for the shower, taking extra care with everything she does until she realizes how cowardly it is to stall like this. Deciding against putting on actual clothes, Kamile opts to just pull on one of oversized hoodies.
“Good morning!” Mingyu leans over to kiss her sweetly before turning back to the pan he’s tending to on the stove. He’s been doing that a lot since yesterday. Just randomly stealing kisses like he’s making up for lost time. 
“Just so you don’t get freaked out when they show up, I’ve got a private chef coming to cook us dinner tonight.” Mingyu mentions as they sit down to eat breakfast. She’s pleasantly surprised that he’s put in so much thought into their anniversary even though he’s yet to directly mention the fact that today is their anniversary. 
Today is their last day in their little safe haven away from the world and the status of their marriage is still technically up in the air. They both know that a decision needs to be made before they leave in the morning, but neither of them has brought it up. It’s like they’ve been tip toeing around the giant elephant in the room and expecting for it to just disappear on its own. 
Other than Mingyu making tteokbeokki, extra spicy and extra cheesy just the way Kamile likes it, they don’t really do much throughout the day. A majority of their time is spent tangled in each other on the couch just talking. They reminisce on the days when they’d first started dating. Kamile nearly falls off of the couch in a fit of laughter at Mingyu’s spot on impression of Vernon’s face when he’d caught them sneaking a few kisses in the dorm kitchen one day. Each memory is sweeter than the last and Kamile is overcome with the urge to make more of those memories. Now that she’s been able to let go of the anger and misplaced resentment that had made her bitter, she actually has hope in that possibility.
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The heels of the platform pumps she’d decided on for the night click with every step as Kamile slowly descends the staircase. She’s determined not to let her natural clumsiness send her to the hospital on such an important day. Mingyu holds his hand out to her when she reaches the last few steps. He looks every bit the international superstar that he’s known to be.
“You look absolutely stunning.” Warmth spreads across her face at the whispered compliment. She barely manages to return the favor. Kamile’s nerves are starting to get the better of her and she hopes and prays that there’s wine on the table so that she can drink them away.
Thankfully, Kamile notices a bottle of white wine chilling in an ice bucket next to the table when Mingyu leads her into the dim dining room. The dinner prepared by the chef looks delicious and she’s can’t wait to taste it but wine is her first priority if she expects to make it through dinner without bolting. Her first glass is tipped down her throat in record time much to Mingyu’s amusement. He refills without hesitation though she chooses to actually sip that one as intended.
Conversation flows easily between them as they eat. However, the topic that deserves their attention the most continues to stew on the back burner as they talk about literally anything else. As nervous as Kamile was when she first came downstairs, Mingyu is doubly so. He’s done his almighty best to convince Kamile that their marriage is worth saving without outright begging her. Based on the past few days, he’s incredibly hopeful that she’ll come back home with him tomorrow and stay there but she’s always been a wildcard. You never truly knew what move she was going to make until she made it. The small velvet box in his pocket feels like a stone. During a lull in the conversation, Mingyu makes his move.
“Kamile,” He reaches across the table to grab both of her hands, “Four years ago you agreed to be my girlfriend and I thought that surely that was the happiest day of my life but then you said yes to being my wife and I knew then that I was wrong. You’re the most precious part of my life and I was a fool for not making sure that you knew that every day for the last year.”
Mingyu pauses to get down on one knee next to Kamile, pulling the ring box from his pocket. Her ring is nestled in the tiny velvet box. It sparkles brilliantly even in the dim lighting. “Kamile Kim, will you do me the honor of staying my wife?” 
Tears well up in Kamile’s eyes as she nods her head yes. She’d made countless lists and weighed her options, but in that moment she throws all of that logic to the wind. At the end of the day, Mingyu is the one. He always has been and he always will be. She can’t believe that she almost threw everything away over her own assumptions and insecurities. Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to slide the piece of jewelry onto her trembling hand when she holds it out to him. He stands, pulling her with him so that he can kiss her senseless. 
“I’ve been waiting to say this until I knew where we stood but….happy anniversary, babe.”
“Happy anniversary, Gyu.” She whispers against his lips before kissing him deeply once more. “Now take me upstairs.”
“Your wish is my command, my lady.” 
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quartermera · 4 years
Text
Forehead and Cheek Kisses with Bonney
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♢ : Forehead or cheek kisses
This girl kisses you all the damn time! Bonney is a very energetic person imo and it’s reflected in the way she behaves around you. Whenever you’re around, she’ll seek your attention, and if that means pecking your cheek then so be it!
You actually love it because that means she covers you in them haha!
She has a really cute habit of pouting if you don’t kiss her back or don’t give her enough attention after she’s pecked you. Don’t let her wait too long or too often though or she will get mad haha! But worry not, a smile and a kiss is all you need to give her to be forgiven.
Bonney is really chill about PDA. She gives zero fucks about people looking at you. On the contrary, I think she kinda likes it? It’s pretty much a way for her to flex like hell yeah! I have an amazing girlfriend and she’s mine!!!
If anyone tries to hit on you... oh boy, pray for their soul. She’ll start nicely, moving closer to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, kiss your cheek. If they don’t get the message, she’ll start calling you pet names, maybe talk about last night with a suggestive tone (even if in reality you spent the night cuddling) etc. If they still don’t get that they should back the fuck off, she’ll get mad and tbh she can be really scary.
“Stop talking to my girlfriend! She’s too good for you anyway! If you look at her one more time I’ll blow your brains out and eat them for dinner!”
In these moments, the only thing that can calm her is you and you better do if you don’t want for it to end in a bloodbath.
In private she’s generally also quite energetic but she’s also a huge softie for you, ngl. She’s energetic in a different way, as in she spends all her energy on you. She wants to have lots of quality time together and if for you that involves cuddling in bed while regularly exchanging little kisses, that’s fine by her.
It’s mostly all about cheek kisses usually. But if you brush some hair away from her forehead before gently pecking it, I swear to heavens she’ll look at you like you’re the most beautiful creature in the whole world <3
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*screams into oblivion* oKaY, Anon! I didn’t expect a request for Bonney but I’m REALLY happy I got one bc bich I lover too ;-; <3 I’ll explain why more under the cut bc I don’t wanna spam here, but thank you a lot for your request <3 I hope you liked what I came up with for her! In any case, I’m very happy to conclude this event with her!
Nonsexual Acts of Intimacy Prompt List
This signs the end of the 2021 Event! I hope you enjoyed it, I’ll write a conclusion post tomorrow once I’ve slept, see ya then!
For the little story: I wrote a 30 chaptered Sabo x OC fanfic back when I was 15. Until this day it’s one of my most precious stories. It honestly isn’t that great looking back but I poured so much of myself into that and it helped me through so much it is definitely a fic I am very attached to.
It was written in French and it’s called La Chute des Notes. It’s still on fanfiction.net and Wattpad if anyone wants to check it out lmao. But anyway, it was a highschool!AU with a group of friends who become the found family of a new student called Mariella (the OC). 
And Bonney is one of those friends!!! I loved writing her so damn much, she was a whole lot of fun to write LKHLHUGFKF!!!
So yes, even if she isn’t super popular, she’s one of my babies ya kno? Just like Nojiko, who’s also part of the friend group.
Btw, all the members of the group were Sabo, Ace, Law, Bonney, Nojiko and the OC, Mariella. So yes, these characters are very close to my heart and a big part of it is because I wrote them at a time I felt terrible and they helped me through it <3
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ontowanderlust · 4 years
Text
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Indulge., v. 
"I'm gonna regret asking but for the sake of my sanity, I'm gonna ask anyway," her body stiffened at the sudden intrusion of a familiar baritone she's used to hear during work hours, confusing her brain- isn't it after work now? Why on earth is she hearing that cursed sound? "Why, pray tell, are you standing there like an idiot? Are you trying to get sick so you won't be able to present your report tomorrow?"
There it is again! That voice! It's not working hours, why is it-
"I asked you a question, dummy."
Her head turned sharply, only to come face to chest with an unamused tyrant of a CEO standing underneath a black umbrella, his car running on standby behind him.
"Victor, sir!" she exclaimed, her brain short circuiting at the sight of her boss outside of work setting until she remembered she really do looked like an idiot standing underneath the rain, her carefree expression frozen while her arms were outstretched as if she's preventing the man from taking another step. "Uh...I uh... I'm-" she stammered, hesitating whether to tell him the truth or fabricate- what's the point, he'll see through her anyway.
She cleared her throat. "I'm dancing underneath the rain, sir."
She let out an involuntary shiver when she saw his eyebrow raising at her answer. She had spent enough time with the man to know that beneath that perfectly crafted poker face, he had judged her actions and is now thinking whether he is talking to an adult woman or an overgrown child- and if she’s lucky- which she isn’t- he may be contemplating on overlooking this embarrassing episode and won’t pull his funding out from her company.
“Are you done?” he asked with a resigned sigh, making her look up to him with a surprised look on her face. Hearing no response from her, he decided to continue. “Come on, get in the car, it’s warmer there. It’s late out and I don’t need to worry about you more so I’ll be taking you home.”
She didn’t know what compelled her but before she could even think about her actions, her hand was already tugging Victor’s sleeve, making him turn to her once more. “Will you dance in the rain with me?” she asked out of nowhere as she blinked at the confused expression he is making. “…sir?” she added hastily, only to regret her decision. There’s no way in seven realms would he let her off the hook this time. Who in their right mind would ask their scary af boss? Especially when the said boss has the future of your entire company, the boss who takes no nonsense and would definitely fire anyone’s ass imme-
“Just this once,”
She must’ve looked all too comical to him as she watched him place the umbrella down, near the car as he stepped into her space, raising his hand for her to take. “May I have this dance, my lady?”
This man really is gorgeous as fuck, she supposed. All too smooth. Even if his personality is downright shitty, she had to admit her boss looked all too prince- no, kingly just right there. It didn’t help her case to see his expression morph into a softer one and if she hadn’t known any better, she would’ve been swept off her feet, right there and then.
There was no beat, no melody and yet with the way they both glided, one could see how in tune they are with each other.
Ah, she’s coming down with a cold. That must be it.
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I told you guys I’m gonna mass release and I won’t make a liar of myself. Though... lol, if anyone were to stumble upon these prompts in the next few days or weeks, they probably don’t know what’s going on. looool. 
I dunno about you guys but while I love writing about established relationships, I also love writing about two idiots in love. And in this case, they really are two idiots in love. Or like... getting there. idk. I suck at timelines, and I suck at keeping tabs. Good thing dictionary style of writing is non-linear. phew. 
I’m bored so send me some prompts!
MLQC Dictionary; Masterlist
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bastardtetsu · 4 years
Text
critical thinking | ch③
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pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader
genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn
wc: 2.3k
warnings: swearing, being a theatre major
※ mlist | ① ② ● ④
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there is no greater hell than finals week as a college theatre major.
and this year, on top of juries to prep for, studio scenes & dance combos to rehearse, essays to write, exams to study for, and rehearsals to attend for the show you’re in, your chemistry teacher decided to assign a final project in addition to the final exam. rejoice.
it was enough trying to study for the written final while staying on top of all your other assignments and obligations - you’d busted your ass so hard leading up to the exam that you hardly had time to think about the project until a week before its due date. and even when you do start thinking about it, you barely understand what you’re supposed to be doing, much less have the time or energy to try and figure it out.
you end up texting kuroo in desperation and make him agree to meet up with you for an extra tutoring session, however, due to your extra-chaotic schedule this week, the only time you’re both able to meet up is after your all-day rehearsal the sunday night before the project is due.
it’s better than nothing, you suppose.
still, you don’t fully realize the consequences of your choices until you’re exhausted on your way back from your second consecutive day of 12-hour tech rehearsals - a pretty standard tech week schedule in the professional theatre world, but not very convenient for a college student during finals.
needless to say, you’re dead tired. the last thing you want is to fry your brain even further with chemistry & kuroo’s smart mouth, but at this point you have no choice.
as you approach him in the library, you notice he’s dressed way more casually than usual. this shouldn’t come as a shock, seeing that it’s 11pm on a sunday, but the way his t-shirt and sweatpants accentuate his figure is actually insulting. somehow the way the fabric stretches around his pecs makes his chest look even broader, and christ you were not expecting his arms to be THAT toned.
NOPE. now is not the time, you remind yourself. you have a project due in ten hours. you can feel a headache coming on as your stress levels rise again.
“evening,” he greets you with a smile.
“hey,” you respond shortly as you set your stuff down, “thanks for meeting with me this late.”
“of course,” he replies, “anything for my favorite student.”
“…are you being sarcastic?”
“no.”
“i’m your favorite?” you question skeptically. “jesus, who else are you tutoring…”
“well I didn’t say you were my best student—“
“cool, i’m gonna stop you there.”
he just giggles. asshole.
you let out a fatigued sigh as you plop down in your chair. this feels like your first moment of rest all day, but in reality it’s just the start of the most difficult battle of them all. you attempt to gather up the remnants of your brainpower, silently praying that kuroo will decide to behave himself.
“you don’t seem like you’re in the mood for chemistry tonight.”
some prayers must go unanswered.
“yeah, i’ve had a long day,” you reply unenthusiastically, “so i’d really like to get this done as quickly as possible.”
“really? that’s gonna be difficult in your condition,” he jeers.
“well i don’t have much choice, do i?” you snap back a bit too aggressively.
“guess not,” he shrugs nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair with his hands resting behind his head. what is with this attitude? is he really just being a dick right now? and WHY do his arms look so god damn tasty??
you can already feel your sanity slipping away as you try to will yourself to focus on anything that’s not kuroo’s juicy biceps flexing through the fabric of his t-shirt. or his chest. or the little strip of exposed skin that’s appeared just below the hem of his shirt - fuck.
focus, you instruct yourself. your brain, however, is already giving out, the stress of not just the day, but the whole week finally catching up to you. the possibility of having something passable to turn in by tomorrow morning seems further and further away.
“look,” you sigh, leveling with him, “we both know i’m awful at chem—“
“really??”
“shut up,” you cut him off quickly, “and i’ve had a long ass week dealing with all this other shit on my plate and i’m really fucking tired and i just want to get a good grade on this so i can graduate, so can you please, PLEASE just—“
“if you’re gonna ask me to do the assignment for you, I already did it.”
a pause.
“wait. what do you mean-“
“i did the assignment for you. project’s done.”
“um,” you stutter, dumbfounded. “excuse me?”
“what, you thought i was gonna let you do it yourself? after you procrastinated it til the literal night before?” he says with an especially wide grin, “it would be irresponsible for me as a tutor if I let my student do so poorly! granted, she’s really bad at this—“
“ok shut up,” you cut him off. your mind is swirling with a mixture of shock, gratitude, and rage as you process his words. “when did you—“
“this week. after you texted me.”
“what?” you cry, “why are we even meeting up then?”
“i dunno,” he responds with a coy smirk, “it would’ve been rude to cancel.”
the swell of gratitude in your chest is overtaken by the growing wave of rage.
“so you decided to waste *more* of my time,” you state pointedly, “when you literally have enough to do an entire final project just for funsies. cool.”
“hey, show a little more gratitude,” he whines, quirking an eyebrow in annoyance, “you’re the one who left it til the last minute.”
“i’m the one?” you shoot back, “you still think i’m just procrastinating because i’m lazy??”
“look, i know finals are demanding—“
“no, I don’t think you do know,” you cut him off, now fuming. “you want a rundown of my week? i can give it to you.” you list off all the assignments you had to turn in, all the finals you had to prep for - both written and performance, all the meetings with scene partners and voice teachers and rehearsal pianists you had to arrange, all the hours you had to spend in rehearsal, including the 12-hour tech day you just came from. kuroo just sits there, taking in your words. when you finish, you let out an exhausted sigh, “so if you’d like to tell me when the fuck i was supposed to work on this stupid project, be my guest. i’d love to hear it.”
this might be the first time you’ve seen kuroo look shocked. for once he doesn’t seem to know what to say. is that a trace of guilt in his eyes too?
“i—“ just as he’s about to speak, he is cut off by an unholy sound coming from your stomach. you both sit there frozen for a second.
“um… when was the last time you ate?” he asks, cautiously breaking the silence.
“uhh,” you think back, “like 3pm.”
“okay, well it’s past 11 now,” he says, “and you need to eat. get your stuff, let’s go.”
“huh? go where?”
“to get food,” he states simply, “i’m driving, come on.”
“kuroo,” you protest, “i’m not gonna make you drive me—“
“you’re not making me,��� he interrupts, “i’m making you. let’s go.”
you let out a sigh of defeat and grab your bag. with the rage beginning to melt away, that swell of gratitude begins to stir in your chest again. it’s still weird when he’s kind to you, but you’re starting to mind less.
you hadn’t realized how hungry you truly were until the smell of oil and salt hits you.
after grabbing your food from the drive thru, kuroo pulls around and finds a spot in the near-empty parking lot. you waste no time scarfing down your food, which he even insisted on paying for. whatever, it’s just mcdonald’s, you think. but still, the gesture is nice.
“you didn’t have to do this you know.”
“i think i did,” he says, jokingly referring to how hard you were just stuffing your face.
“funny,” you respond sarcastically, “but seriously.”
“it’s no big deal,” he says, looking away slightly. is he blushing? you can’t tell in the dark. “anyway, i figured i owed you one for making you stress about the project.”
you can’t believe your ears - is he actually apologizing?
“yeah, you really let me suffer all week, asshole,” you respond teasingly.
“i didn’t know it was that bad, alright,” he says, slightly defensive. a brief pause, and then, “sorry.”
you can hear the remorse in his voice - he means it. the corners of your mouth twitch upward.
“thank you,” you say gently, “that means a lot.”
his gaze darts back over to you. you’ve never seen his eyes look nervous before, yet somehow his stare still feels piercing.
“you’re gonna have to buy me a lot more nuggets before i fully forgive you though,” you joke, breaking out your own devilish smirk. he chuckles too, relieved.
“how many are we talking?”
“as many as i want.”
“fine,” he relents, “guess you’ll have to hang out with me more then, if i’m gonna be buying you all these nuggets.”
“whatever, i’m immune to your bullshit by now.”
“oya~? you’re starting to like me, y/n??”
“is that what the fuck i said?”
“no, but it’s what you meant,” he responds with a smirk.
“and how would you know?”
“‘cause i’m a genius,” he says, reaching over to swipe a fry from your lap. you halfheartedly swat at him.
“sure, keep telling yourself that.”
your banter feels natural now, strangely comfortable. for some reason it actually feels good talking to him. he did do something really nice for you tonight after all, despite your continued bickering. no matter how much you insult him he always has something to say back. but as much as it pisses you off, you’re not sure what you’d do if he ever stopped.
as kuroo drives you back to your place for the night, your mind begins turning over the events of this evening. in the time since you’d met up with him (which somehow feels longer than the literal 12 hours of rehearsal you were in earlier), you’d not only found out that the final project you’d been so stressed about had been taken care of, but you also hung out with him for the first time outside of tutoring. and he was nice to you. it’s a lot to process.
it’s not like you aren’t used to spending time alone with kuroo - like you told him, you’re immune to his bullshit by now - but this feels different somehow. it’s more peaceful, maybe even comforting. you figure it’s probably because of the rollercoaster of a day you just had, not to mention how unusual it is for him to treat you like this.
“why are you being so nice to me?” you finally ask him, turning to steal a glance at his side profile in the dim glow of the streetlamps.
“huh?? i needed to make sure my student got their nutrients!” he replies, as if it was obvious.
“what nutrients? you took me to mcdonald’s.”
“okay fair,” he says, “but nothing else was open!”
“sure, but you didn’t need to take me anywhere,” you protest, “much less spend money on me.”
“maybe i’ll just cook for you next time then,” he smiles.
“next time!?” you squawk, “what, are you trying to get into my pants??” the words leave your mouth before you fully have time to process them, but either way, you aren’t expecting the sudden silence that falls over him.
a flash of anxiety darts through your mind, but it only lasts for a second before he laughs quitely, almost to himself.
“not if you don’t want me to,” he mutters.
your breath catches. is he joking?? your heart feels like it’s in your throat. he’s definitely joking.
“what are you cooking?” is the only thought you can manage to put to words.
another pause.
“um. probably fish.”
“EW, WHAT THE FUCK?”
“what???” he gripes, “you could use more docosahexaenoic acid!!!”
“you are such a freak.” you’re relieved that the subject has changed, even though his earlier response is still circling your mind.
“okay but can you tell me the chemical formula for docosahex—“
“no, you are not bringing chemistry into this car, absolutely not. i already took my final.”
“what about the molar mass—“
“NO.”
you arrive back at your place not long after. kuroo’s comment is still eating away at the back your mind, but you don’t say anything as you gather your belongings. it was a cop-out response, and he was probably joking anyway.
“thanks for everything,” you say gingerly, “the project, and the food, and the ride, and the help with the semester, all that.”
“anytime, princess,” he replies with his signature smirk. usually that kind of response would trigger a jolt of annoyance in you, but this time it feels different. maybe because now you’re actually grateful to him.
in fact, you’re very grateful, and you feel like you should be expressing it more, but you’re not sure how. plus you’re too embarrassed, and have way too much pride. so instead you wish him goodnight and head towards your front door.
he waits to drive off until you’re all the way inside.
you think about him a little differently after that.
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a/n: why is he so obsessed with docosahexdhfafdjh acid.... making me have to google how to spell that shit smh. anyways thank you for all the love on this fic so far!! if u actually enjoy this self-indulgent fantasy of mine know that i love & appreciate u to the ends of the earth ;-;
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redhead-batgal · 3 years
Text
Christmas Drabbles!!!!
Here is a little rewrite of ���Twas The Night Before Christmas, along with drabbles of the reader with all of the batfam that I know enough about to write about! Two things, One: The non-main batboy drabbles are going to be longer, cuz the batboys can be requested and everyone else basically can’t be. Two: These drabbles aren’t inherently romantic in nature because... well I’m ace😂. And I literally panic and freak out over all of my one-shots having my not-ace friend read them to make sure they make sense. Anyways, some might have some romantic undertones, others might have some familial ones, but overall, I just wanted to write some lighthearted Christmas stuff to lift my spirts, cuz my family sucks. Anyways Enjoy! And Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!!!!!!! 😊 
(P.S. This is my first time writing for some characters so if I get stuff wrong, please let me know. Also, really sorry! I hope I get it right though. Thanks!)
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house 
not a creature was stirring except for Redhead-batgirl, who is definitely not a mouse. 
Eyebags hung on her face with care 
in hopes that sleep would soon be there.
Insomnia was all snuggled tight in her brain, 
while ideas fell down quite like rain. 
With Redhead-batgirl in her writer’s block, and time ticking away; 
she heard a small tinkling like bells on a sleigh. 
She felt herself jump up quick like she was on fire, 
as her writer’s block finally began to tire. 
Out she yanked her computer quick as a flash, 
hoping and praying that it wouldn’t crash. 
She opened up her drafts and found it overflowing, 
then she suddenly felt herself to start slowing. 
When what to her wondering eyes should appear? 
One-shots where the plot’s all clear. 
Redhead-batgirl knew in a moment her writer’s block would be back just as slick, 
and she needed to write theses drabbles and one-shots rather quick. 
What she wished happened was, more rapid than eagles her ideas all came
 and she wrote out each thing, even giving everyone a name! 
However, instead the girl began to deflate as she realized it was all in vain. 
All her ideas were rather too plain! 
Her hopes finally began to fall
Redhead-batgirl felt likes she lost and important brawl.
Maybe, she thought I should just say bye
For maybe my dreams were too high
Too high to write all of my one-shots, drabbles and fics 
too high, to even make something that sticks
However, ad she mourned and drowned in self-pity  
she remembered writing was a necessity
without it her life was bland and colorless
she wouldn’t give it up no, not with her stubbornness
riding her high where she could touch the sky
in that moment Redhead-batgirl wanted to cry
She sniffed and snuffed 
puffed and huffed. 
Till all her tears were gone 
after all she had work to do before dawn. 
With her computer in her lap
and nervous energy she needed to sap
she began to write drabbles, start fics and finish one-shots
finally connecting all her missing and fun dots
her works appeared quickly,
while Santa was slickly
slinking down her chimney
“maybe” she muttered to herself, “just maybe there’s more in me.”
With one-shots finished, and drabbles written
true inspiration had finally bitten
it had taken hold strongly and firmly
so much tomorrow she’d be scolded very sternly
However, the fics were started
the one-shots with she parted
the drabbles were created 
some even dated
finally finished she lay down to sleep
unfortunately, that’s when her alarm began to beep. 
________________________________________________________________
NOW, onto the drabbles
Dick💙- 
You wobbled slightly as the blades beneath your feet touched the smooth ice. To the right of you Damian snorted before hopping onto the ice and gliding out into the middle. You stuck your tongue out at him and blew a raspberry. He was such a brat. 
Gently sliding onto the ice, you automatically felt yourself begin to fall. However, instead of landing on your ass and giving Damian another reason to make fun of you, you felt hands catch you by your armpits. 
Looking up, you found Dick above you a slight smile on his face. He helped you stand upright only for you to nearly go tumbling face forwards. He yanked you up again and you could hear the twerp’s laughter at your misfortune on the ice. 
“I just don’t think I’m cut out for this Dick. “You grumbled, knowing that Damian was never going to let you live this down. 
You hated ice skating, it was dumb, stupid, irrational and, and dumb!
“Nonsense,” Dick replied waving a hand, “I’ll help you.” 
You stared up and him, sighed. You might as well try. You than smiled slightly before you nodded. Taking his hand Dick lead you out onto the ice slowly. You watched as Damian got close to the two of you and you felt the urge to trip him or clothesline him or something! The demon brat needed a lesson in humility, and he was going to get it even if it meant falling into the lake. 
As he drew nearer you felt Dick’s grip on you get tighter, almost as if he knew your plant you make Damian fall. However, as the boy got closer, Dick began to make the two of you sway slightly. You didn’t know what he was doing but it seemed he was going to ruin your plan.
Damian got really close, and you noticed the boy was headed straight for you, he was going to slam into you, knocking you away from Dick and promptly onto your ass. However, just as he got close enough to start charging you, Dick yanked you out of the way and straight into his arms. 
Damian charged forwards and then skidded trying to stop and turn around only to stumble and fall straight on his face. You snorted slightly before pressing a hand to your face. You were better than this, you weren’t going to laugh at a child who messed up were you? You were better than him you didn’t need too. 
However, as Damian tried to get up, he kept falling over and you had to force back giggles. Turning you pressed your face to Dick’s chest and burst into a fit of laughter. Ice skating wasn’t all that bad when you really thought about it. 
Jason🔫- 
“I’m dreaming of a White Christmas!” Steph wailed off-key with Jason and Damian cringing and Dick coming in, in a worse voice.
“Just like the ones I used to know.” 
You roared with laughter and had to stop yourself from doubling over from glee. Steph smiled and you saw Damian rolling his eyes. She finished her song and passed her mic to you without hesitation. 
Dick bee-lined to Jason and you both stood up. Noting the song on the screen you shook your head. 
“Baby it’s cold outside? Which one of you dweebs planed this?” You asked with narrowed eyes. 
Dick blinked innocently but you could tell it was him, mainly because everyone was point at him but still. 
You shook your head and moved over to the machine quickly looking up a different song. A smile, a wicked one, appeared on your face as the name and artist appeared on the screen. 
I Won’t Be Home for Christmas by Blink- 182
Everyone blinked and you realized none of them had heard it before. As the music began to play you sung along to the words on the screen feeling the beat begin to make you want to dance. 
“So, I stand with a dead smile on my face, wondering how much of my time they’ll waste. Oh god, I hate these Satan’s helpers. And then I guess I must have snapped because I grabbed a baseball bat and made them all run for shelter.”
With both you and Jason jamming out to the song, you more singing it than him you shot him a wink and he smiled at you as the both of you sang more of the lyrics.
“You people scare me, please stay away from my home if you don't want get me down. Just leave the present and let me be alone.” 
The song continued with Steph nodding along to the music and Dick looking mildly horrified. Damian had a mixed expression on his face. 
Singing the final lyrics, you and Jason pointed at each other grinning broadly.
“I won’t be home, I won’t be home for Christmas, I won’t be home. I won’t be home for Christmas. I won’t be home.” 
Air guitaring you strummed the last chords and then bowed as Steph gave you a smashing applause.
“Brilliant, utterly brilliant. I loved it!” She cheered
“You got anymore songs like this?” Jason asked leaning towards you.
“Tons.” You grinned in reply. 
Tim☕️-
“You, Timothy Jackson Drake, are going to sit your ass down here and watch Christmas movies with me.” You declared
Tim blinked a few times, the bags under his eyes nearly black as the cup of coffee in his hand gently steamed. He sighed and began trudging over to you. Knowing fully well he couldn’t say no, because you’d make him. 
Flopping down next to you he sighed again, and you pulled him in close. Pressing play the old cartoon version of the Grinch came on and you couldn’t help but quote it as the man narrated. 
“All the who’s down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot, but the grinch who lived north of Whoville did not!”
Tim snorted and you smiled, you loved watching movies and had a terrible habit of quoting them. With a cup of hot chocolate in your hand you snuggled into Tim’s side and quietly mouthed along to the words of the movie. 
Everyonce in a while you’d get a little over excited and bounce or lean forwards and Tim would flinch slightly. It took you a while and all of the Santa Claus movies before you realized it was because he was falling asleep. 
With Rudloph the red nosed reindeer playing you looked over to find Tim fast asleep on your shoulder. Smiling slightly, you leaned against him and let the music and dialogue take over as his warmth and the familiarity of the movie slowly and carefully put you to sleep as well. 
Damian🗡- 
Gently wrapping the bow around the small animal’s neck, you stared at it. The small baby bear leaned forwards and licked your nose. You were still astounded on how you got the animal. However, thinking about that now was pointless. Damian could be here at any moment you had to get away before-
“Y/N? What are you doing?”
You blinked and turned to face him trying your hardest to hide the animal behind you, so he didn’t see a thing. 
“Nothing!” You tried.
However, the bear decided he wanted attention and let out a little noise. Closing your eyes, you cursed and peeked an eye opened to see Damian peering around you.
Turning around you glared slightly at the bear who make noises as he slowly made his way towards you. Bending down you picked the bear up and held out to Damian. 
“Merry Christmas!” You weakly said 
Damian stared at you with wide eyes and blinked as you passed the bear over to him. 
“You got me a bear.”
“You don’t have a bear.”
He blinked and shook his head as he looked at the baby bear. 
“I don’t.”
He smiled slightly as the bear made noises as it happily began playing with him. Damian than blinked and looked up at you suddenly confused. 
“Where did you get a bear.”
You laughed slightly before sighing, “that is a very long story for a different time. A better question is what are you going to name him?”
Damian smiled slightly at your face, “I’m assuming you have some ideas.”
Flopping down next to Damian you shrugged, “A few. How do you feel about the name Napolean?” 
Duke💛-
You were freezing, completely and totally cold. Rubbing your arms, you stared out as the boys began a snowball fight. You couldn’t participate, not after what happened last year. You could still feel the snowball hitting your face and then not being able to see out of your right eye for three weeks.
It was too cold for you to be outside, but you promise you would cheer the boys on. Looking to the side you notice Duke sitting out as well, Steph and Cass however seemed to be prepping themselves for the fight. Looks as if it wasn’t just the boys than. Breathing on your nearly ice-cold palms you walked over towards where Duke was standing. 
Bumping him slightly you smiled, and he gave you a tight smile almost as if something was bothering him. You frowned and narrowed your eyes, looking over to the battle that was about to begin you noted Barbara far enough away to judge but not participate. Looking back to Duke you saw the frustrated expression on his face. 
You bumped him again capturing his attention, “Come on glowstick, why don’t you tell me why you’ve got such a glum face before Dick *mother hen* Grayson notices and decides you two need another heart to heart.”
Duke blinks once than twice and nods. You both knew while Dick had the best intentions at heart, sometimes having him draw attention to you when you’re feeling shitty, even if it’s not purposeful, just makes you feel even worse. 
“I feel so lame that I can’t play. Alfred and Bruce said it might be best if I just sit out this time. It’s my first Christmas here! I wanna participate!” Duke exclaimed, “it’s almost like they don’t think I can handle it!”
You laughed, feeling relieved that was the only thing bothering him. Patting Duke on the back your shrugged before admitting. 
“My fault I’m afraid.”
Duke looked to you confused and you smiled as the fight began to break out with the teams dissolving almost instantly and it turned into an all-out war. 
“What?” 
“It’s my fault you can’t participate,” You shrugged and watched as a snowball hit Damian square in the face causing him to slam onto the ground, however the boy quickly jumped to his feet his face red and rage in his eyes, “last year I decided I was gonna join them despite Bruce and Alfred’s warnings. I got hit in the face, black out for two days and had a concussion. Let’s not forget the blackeye that lasted for like a month.”
He looked at you in shock and you smiled somewhat embarrassed. However, you had gotten used to people knowing. After all it was one of Jason and Damian’s favorite stories to tell about you. 
“That was you?” Duke finally exclaims
“Guilty as charged.”
Duke relaxed a bit, the frustration and tension leaving his body. Suddenly a light appeared in his eyes, and he smiled an almost mischievous smile. He turned to your and you raised an eyebrow in suspicion.
“I have an idea. Wanna help me?’
You hesitated for a moment before thinking it through. it’s not as if you were doing anything. You shrugged and nodded. 
“As long as it either involves humiliating the others or hot chocolate I’m in.”
Duke took you hand you suddenly you were off. Before you knew it the two of you were perched in some tree with two buckets. One filled with snowballs the other filled with slushy snow. 
“What exactly are we doing again?” You asked in a whisper.
“Watch.” Duke remarked before picking up a snowball from the bucket.
He then promptly threw the snowball down and it whacked Jason in the back of the head. You stifled a snort as Jason whirled around pointing his snowball launcher at Steph. 
“You are so gonna get it blondie!” Jason shouted as he chased after her shooting snowballs randomly.
You than leaned over and yanked a snowball from the bucket and aimed for Dick, who had his back to Tim. The snowball hit and snow slid down past his jacket. Both you and Duke had you fight off giggles as Dick shrieked and ran around getting pelted with snowballs by Cass and Damian. 
This pattern continued, picking a target and unleashing the hidden snowball fury on them until you had none left. Of course, eventually they all; meaning everyone but Cass, figured out it was someone else by your last snowball. Gathered together at the base of the tree the two of you were in you. You covered your mouth as Duke picked up the other bucket and dumped the slushy snow over your adopted sibling’s heads.
Looking down you saw the shock on their faces, and you couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore. You cackled and hooted grabbing onto the tree branch beside you as giggles exploded from you. At your side Duke burst into laughter as well and the two of you twisted and writhed with glee in the tree. 
With Duke by your side and laugher in your lungs you suddenly realized you weren’t so cold anymore. 
Cass🖤-  The curtain rose and the music swelled into the room you held your breath as you stared at the stage. It was your first time ever seeing one of these. You nearly squealed in excitement as the dancer came onto the stage swatting at Cass’s arm. She smiled slightly at you and the two of you returned your focus to the stage. It was a ballet after all, you couldn’t watch it by just listening. The dancers were fluid and graceful wowing you with their skills. It took everything in you not to elbow Cass after almost every move and whisper. 
“Can you do that?” 
While you personally thought that to be funny you knew better, after all she probably wouldn’t find it nearly as funny as you would. 
The dancers leaped and spun on stage capturing your attention and your heart with the story they told. Though you hate to admit it, certain parts had you tearing up merely from the beauty of it all. 
The music, the lights, the stage, the dancing- though you couldn’t dance yourself you absolutely loved ballet and any forms of dance. Watching these people do incredible feats that even you, an accomplished vigilante couldn’t do, astounded you. 
As the performance came to an end your breath caught, you clearly remembered in that moment that the ending right before intermission had left you speechless but this- this... it was going to leave you breathless, and you knew it. You couldn’t help but look over at Cass and see her staring at the stage with nearly the same admiration you were feeling. 
You had become one of the very few people who could read her. It took a while and a lot of talk about ballet, but eventually you were able to read her face. And staring at her now as she watched the performance you were glad you could. 
Knowing you weren’t alone in your amazement and awe was comforting and being with her, being here happily was ... amazing. As the ballet came to an end and the performers came out on stage for a final bow, both you and Cass stood up to give them an ear-shattering applause. 
Pressing your fingers to your lips you whistled before cheering loudly. Finally, the curtain fell, and all the lights came on in the room. You turned to Cass who smiled slightly at you.
‘Did you like it?’ She signed to you.
You nodded rapidly and looked around letting out a long sigh of joy. 
“It was amazing! I loved it. It was gorgeous and damn it almost had me crying.”
Cass blinked a few times at your confession, and you grabbed her hand and began dragging her outside. Snow gently began to fall and arm in arm you exited the theatre heading back for the mansion. 
“We should do this every year.” You declared, “make it a tradition.”
Cass hesitated for a moment before she asked,
‘With everyone?’
You scoffed and waved a hand before smiling brightly at her, “No, just you and me silly. It’ll be out special tradition.”
Cass smiled as well and both of you continued towards home, with snow falling down and a slight breeze, however neither of you could feel it. 
Bruce🦇- 
A squeal of delight escaped you as you dropped your book running towards the window. Snowing, it was fucking snowing. 
Bruce gave you a strange look from his chair, he had never- never heard that noise come from you before. Clearing your throat, you looked out the window feeling your glee come over your again. 
You turned towards Bruce, and he raised an eyebrow at you. Looking once back at the window you got an idea. Turning back around you marched towards Bruce and pointed out the window. 
“We,” You declared firmly, “are going to build a snowman.”
Giving you a look of disbelief, he shook his head and looked back at the case file on his desk. 
“No.” 
“Bruce! It’s snowing, the first snow of the year, we have to make snow angels and snowmen. It’s tradition!”
“Not for me.” Bruce replied and you let out a huff.
Shaking your fists, you turned leaving him behind to go and pull on your winter clothes. You paused however before leaving the room. 
“Fine you grinch! I’ll go and do it by myself.”
With that you stormed from the room to go and change. Pulling on more layers, your boots, coat and hat your hurried outside with Alfred calling after you to give you gloves and a scarf. 
The snow was a powdery kind, but it was sticking together well enough to make a wonderful snowman. Squatting down on the ground you began to make a small ball that you could roll around to get your snowman’s base. 
You rolled and rolled and rolled and rolled and rolled. Sweat was coming down the back of your neck only to meet snowflakes and create a watery stream down your back. 
“Y/N?” You heard and looked up to see Bruce staring down at you from an open window.
Glaring at him you let out a huff and turned away to continue rolling the ball. Finally, forgetting that you saw Bruce- or should you say scrooge, you rested your snowman base in a place you deemed perfect. You than began on the middle.
It wasn’t long before you had the snowman assembled... well sort of assembled. He looked a little lumpy and parts of the top ball were falling off, but it didn’t matter... yes it did. 
Let out a sigh you flopped on the ground and closed your eyes. At least you could still make snow angels. Moving your arms and legs furiously you felt snow go flying and heard a strangle thwacking sound.
Opening your eyes, you found Bruce standing over you with snow slipping off of him. You blinked a few times, and he held a hand out to you. You took his hand and he helped you to your feet. 
“I thought,” He began, “I thought you could use some help.” 
A smile broke out across your face, and you nodded before dragging him towards the snowman. 
“That,” He began, “Is your snowman?”
You swatted at him, and he sighed. Smiling brightly, you began to drag him around, having him help you fix your snowman and make more. Before you finally pushed him into the snow and ordered him to make a snow angel. He had sighed but you swore you saw a slight smile on his face. Flopping down beside him you too decided to make another snow ange. 
 After all traditions were traditions
Alfred🥰- 
The smell of cookies was fresh in the air, and you took in a deep breath. You loved it here at Wayne manor. It was so much better than a life on the streets, it always smelled nice, you had your own room, and you didn’t have to beg for food. 
Not to mention you now had a family! A wonderfully great family with Bruce Wayne at its head... well truthfully Alfred was the head, but he let Bruce believe he was just to make him feel important. 
Alfred was like the grandfather you never had. He talked to you gently, smiled whenever he saw you and always treated you as if you were important. Living on the streets, living in a place where you so easily faded into the background- being in a place like this now, with Alfred constantly here made you feel worth something. Even if it was very, very little. 
Walking into the kitchen you noticed that Alfred and set up cookies and frosting for decorating. A squeal of delight escaped you and you skidded into the kitchen and around the counter, so you stood in front of the cookies. 
“Ah, Miss Y/N.” You turned to see Alfred, who had magically appeared, “would you like to decorate cookies?” 
You smiled brightly and nodded before pointing at him, “Only if you decorate them with me!”
Alfred blinked a few times before smiling and nodding. He walked over to you and stood by your side. 
“Shall we get started than.”
You cheered and picked up a cookie before slathering it in icing. You weren’t the best at decorating, but you knew no matter what Alfred made it was delicious. Alfred hesitated before turning to you. 
“Should we call the others Miss Y/N?”
You shook your head and pointed at Alfred than you the cookies. 
“No! It’s just gonna be me and you. I wanna spend time with you Alfred.” 
Alfred blinked smiling again before he gave you a curious look of amusement and sighed. 
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re awesome duh. Now, let’s get started, hurry up!” 
You heard Alfred chuckle as he settled down next to you and began to decorate cookies as well. With impressions of Bruce and other members of the batfam you began cracking jokes trying again to make Alfred laugh. 
Before you knew it, all the cookies had been decorated and you had somehow nearly covered yourself in icing. Smiling brightly at Alfred you sighed at you, you relaxed. Alfred was family, and you loved him. You loved him because he was kind and he never, ever treated you like you were worthless. 
“I love you Grandpa Alfred.” You said smiling up at him.
Alfred smiled sighing softly before he chuckled again and shook his head. You reached out to hug him and Alfred gave you a look 
“I advise you go clean up Miss Y/N.”
You knew that meant that Alfred loved you as well, because he cared. you nodded however before you could leave Alfred kissed you on the forehead and gave you a warm smile. 
“I love you as well Miss Y/N.” 
Feeling giddy you hurried out of the room, waving goodbye to Alfred before moving towards the stairs to hurry and clean up. Who knows, maybe if you got clean fast enough you could spend more time with Alfred. 
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