#anyway sorry this came out a day late. I was at a pride thing yesterday and it was very fun but also took up all of my free time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

diremoone · 6 months

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written in fine print | r. sukuna

moving to japan to get a breath of fresh air was supposed to be one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. it still may be, but now you’ve got a problem and you don’t know what to do about it. the problem? ryomen sukuna, one of the wealthiest men on the planet, being… enamored with you. you’ve come fairly far with him as “friends” while keeping him at bay, but after you both spend christmas together, you know that things have changed. and come the first day of the new year comes a surprise that forces you to face your bottled-up truth.

[ Ryomen Sukuna Masterlist ] | part three

w — slowburn, age gap, modern au, older man/younger woman, fluff, mild? angst, this time we get reader’s pov bc it’s time ;3, insecure! reader, self-indulgence, A KISS (but just one for now sorry y’all), reader and sukuna lay their feelings on the table (I’m sorry I couldn’t help but finally get to this part), sukuna gets kinda prose-y lmao, slightly unsatisfied with this fic but I hope y’all enjoy anyway, sprinkle of bittersweet at the end

God, have mercy upon my soul.

The dozens of text messages from your cousin have you sitting on the edge of your bed in absolute disbelief. You haven’t even had any coffee yet, or any sort of something in your stomach. It’s sheer willpower keeping you from throwing up the stomach acid in your belly.

But you do need something. You make your way into the kitchen and nab the biscuits you made yesterday from the bag they were in. You shouldn’t, but you eat all four of them anyway. Then you drink something.

You were wondering why everything was going too good, why life had been so… easy as of late. Now you understood why. It was the calm before the storm. It was the universe allowing you to have some semblance of peace before it decided to throw you into the pit of mental and emotional turmoil that you’d been so great at avoiding.

Why in the world did the universe decide to put Ryomen Sukuna into your life?

That’s the question you have been asking yourself over and over again ever since you decided to take him up on the offer of a first date six months ago. Even worse, why did you even think it was a remotely good idea to get involved with someone over ten years older than you? Universe aside, you should’ve had the good judgement to keep Sukuna away. Your good intuition was something you’d always prided yourself on, so why did you decide to even let Sukuna keep coming around?

You go back to your room and get the phone, rereading over the messages. One in particular your eyes stay on:

A benefactor has paid for nana’s care and set her up in a really fancy, upscale care and rehabilitation facility here. They came and got her this morning to transfer her. When I asked about it, someone from registration said it was a gift for you. Who the fuck did you meet in Japan? 5:16 am

And you know, deep within your soul and in your gut that Sukuna was behind this. There’s no one you know that has the money to pull off something like taking your grandmother from where she was to a facility where she’s going to get more constant help, cleaned, proper rehabilitation. No one else but him.

The coffee maker suddenly beeps, beginning to brew a fresh pot of coffee. You almost jump out of your skin from it. You wait until it’s done before digging out one of the banana nut muffins Shoko brought over two nights ago to pre-celebrate the new year.

You truly don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure about everything. Coming to Japan to get a breath of fresh air from the strain your old life was supposed to be one of the best choices you’ve ever made. But now, all it’s become is a whirlwind of even more, even deeper emotional confusion.

Meeting Yuuji was great. Meeting his older brother? The entire source of the emotional confusion.

You lean against the counter and gaze outside. The snow has finally ceased and you’re sure dozers are out clearing the roads. You can’t help but fall into your thoughts.

For awhile, you’ve had… feelings. You’re not quite sure what they are, but you know that they revolve around the older, rich man you’ve befriended. You know that whenever he’s around, you feel more… open, lighter even. You know he makes you feel flustered, to which you’ve learned to seal said fluster inside of a bottle and remain indifferent in his presence. Every time he looks at you or speaks to you, it makes you feel… giddy. Happy, dare you say it.

And it’s something you swallow down and hide every time it bubbles to the surface, fearing that it’ll be nothing more than the same story as your mother: a heart broken by the letdown of not ever being enough, not being what the man actually wanted, and not being genuinely cared for.

The mug of coffee in your hands grows hot, almost scalding against the skin of your palms. It brings you out of your own mind, just in time to hear your phone vibrate with more text messages, all still from your cousin.

Because apparently fate dropped a man in your lap that was more than ready to give you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted: unconditional love on a gold platter; fate decided that you finally deserve a break from strife and grief, that you deserved to stop eating humble pie, because lord knows you’ve done choked and damn near suffocated on that shit; that you deserved to be cherished and loved and made to be someone’s number one in their life.

You know. You fucking know what Sukuna does to you, how he makes you feel inside. You also know how he wants to treat you and the things he wants to do to you. And perhaps with you, if your gut instinct is right and he wants more than a body to warm his bed.

Who are you kidding? You know you’re right.

But it’s unfortunate for you that all you’ve learned to do is bottle up your feelings and act like they don’t exist. Because you’ve never been loved, not romantically anyway. Especially not like this, from someone like this.

How were you supposed to love? What did it really mean to be in a relationship? You’ve never been in one. Not one that ever really was going to go as far as this. Was what you were feeling all temporary? And if you did get into a relationship, what if he didn’t like you when you got comfortable? What if he didn’t like it when you laughed too hard, or any of the habits you have? What if he was just wanting to play savior and ended up leaving you a few months from now?

You toss your head back and groan. Why? Why was this happening to you?

You opt to spend the day inside, rather than go out like you had planned. You have to text Shoko and Utahime, letting them know that you’re not going to be able to participate in their plans of going out and visiting shrines for the new year. The latter is reasonably mad, but Shoko calms her down in the group chat. Although she does make an innuendo about spending the day with someone else “cozied up in bed” rather than them. You send her a side eye emoji in return on her personal thread.

You change out of your pajamas and into some casual clothes — a dark red long sleeve and some black sweatpants, switching to house socks to regular socks — despite not intending to go out for the day. You do end up on the couch for most of the day, switching your attention from the TV and the messages on your phone more than you care to admit. You hardly eat, and don’t realize it until you can feel your stomach against your spine each time.

All day is basically wasted in front of the television, trapped in your own mind. Trapped in the whirlwind that Sukuna has made of your heart and emotions.

You graze through your entire stock of sweets in less than a day, uncaring if it was unhealthy. Dusk settles on the horizon before you know it and you’re anything but tired. In fact, you’re wide awake.

“What do I do…?” you ask into the open air. You feel stupid doing it, but apparently fate has a response for you.

It’s 9:18 at night when several strong knocks rap at your door.

It’s 9:20 when you decide to finally answer the door.

It’s 9:24 when you realize you’ve got a guest at the front door, the very same man who’s been making you question yourself and your whole life ever since coming to this country.

It’s 9:30 when you question to yourself why you let him in. You didn’t think it through, that much you’re sure of. How could you be when he’s thrown your heart all topsy-turvy and mushed it into goo?

Just looking at him from his back floods your mind and makes your heart race, something you hope you’re able to hide by what you hope is a face of indifference and calmness. You can see the tattoos peek out from his turtleneck, and you have to gulp down your nervousness.

The large mug of fruity tea you’ve poured has now chilled, the ice just barely clinking in the glass. You quickly open the cookie jar on the counter and shove two snickerdoodles in your mouth to stress-eat being prepared for what was coming next.

“I…” you begin, and embarrassingly realize you have to swallow the cookies to talk. “I wasn’t expecting you to… show up.”

Sukuna’s silent for a moment, then replies stoically, “Neither was I.”

You gaze at him longer than you intend to. Your attention is mostly on his tattoos, the little bits that are peeking out from the deep crimson of his form-fitting turtleneck. You watch him readjust the watch on his wrist, partially revealing the tattoo inked onto his wrist. To your surprise, Sukuna actually doesn’t like showing off his tats. He used to in his younger years; he’s still proud of them, but he isn’t as much into flaunting them to the world nowadays.

Sukuna’s deep voice cuts through the air. “Have you… gotten my gift?”

You bite your lower lip. You nod even though he can’t see you. “Yeah… If you mean the one involving my grandmother, then yes.”

“I do apologize if I crossed any lines doing such a thing,” he says. “But I don’t regret it.”

“I can imagine you don’t,” you reply, knowing full-well that him regretting anything was a very rare occurrence. “But… Why? Why would you do that? Go through such trouble to help me… and my family? Just… Why?”

His ginormous frame turns to face you to look into your eyes and answer with nothing short of honesty, “Because I want you to be cared for. I’ve seen happiness in your eyes and I want to keep you happy. I want to be the one making you happy.”

“Buying my love will only get you so far,” you say.

“I know. I want to do more for you. I want… to be more for you. Not just… this. Whatever we have going on,” Sukuna admits casually, crossing his burly arms over his chest. But he doesn’t make eye contact. In fact, he keeps his eyes to the floor, away from your gaze. “I know what I want, although I’m not quite sure how to describe everything I feel… when I’m with you and when I think about you. It’s… I know what it is, I’m pretty sure, but at the same time… I don’t.”

“It’s new for you,” you mumble. Surprisingly, he actually hears you and nods. He doesn’t lie. Not with you.

“I’ve been with many women over the years, all for the same reason. I’ve never felt like falling in love or that it would ever matter. I know lust, I know what comes with that. With you, it’s anything but. At first, yes. But your immediate rejection, you continuing to keep your distance from me and your distaste known made me stop and think.”

You raise your brows. “All it took was a girl with some strong boundaries to make you realize you can’t live off being just horny for then rest of your life?”

Sukuna laughs. He actually laughs. A bright smile crosses his handsome face as his shoulders shake with laughter. He tries to cover it up with a hand, but all it does it muffle it into loud chuckles. It takes a good couple minutes before his chuckles finally fall into a simple smile of amusement. That’s when you admit your own truths. If you were going to be hurt, you might as well get it over with.

“In a way,” Sukuna admits. And then he admits even more, opening his heart and putting it on his sleeve. “You’ve reminded me that there is more to life, that I can be genuinely happy beyond office walls and red light districts. You have made me remember what feeling excited, what being on my toes feels like. You make the air lighter… happier, every time I see you. You… I care for you.”

Sukuna’s last words of admission are watered-down and you both know it. Then again, he says he is new to these kinds of feelings. And at this point, you believe him. You wonder if he knows that you’re just like him — exactly the same: that you’re new to the feelings of love, what it means to be in love. It’s confusing, really. You’re not sure where to begin when it comes to saying the things that Sukuna has seemingly had no problem admitting to you. You can’t just say, “Ditto” and make out with him.

Well, you could, but that’s beside the point.

You swallow the frog in your throat and look at him. He isn’t looking at you but at the ground, almost like he’s unsure of himself.

“You’ve made yourself a cozy place inside me, too,” you speak softly. Your hands don’t leave the mug as you set it on the counter. “We’ve only known each other for barely half a year, you know? You make me wonder if what I’m feeling is love, most of the time. I enjoy you; I enjoy your company. I enjoy the thrill you bring into my life. I… enjoy how weightless you make the world feel. I… I like the thought of being… prioritized. I’m just… confused on whether or not these feelings are rooted in love or something else entirely.”

“And I apologize for making you feel that way,” he replies. “That isn’t my intention.”

You’re quick to your words before he can continue. “Don’t apologize. Please. It’s not your fault. I… I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what love is or what it’s supposed to feel like. I’ve never been loved, and I’m not quite sure how to reciprocate it. I’m afraid I’ll fuck up. Say the wrong thing, not do something right.”

Sukuna’s brows furrow. “There is no right or wrong way to be in a relationship — just yourself.”

“I’ve heard that, just as much as I’ve heard otherwise.”

Silence fills your apartment. You tap your nails against the glass mug, little tinks! resounding. You can’t look at Sukuna now. Not after just admitting to having never been in a romantic relationship. Now, you must seem more of your age than you ever have in his eyes.

“Any insecurity you have is not invalid. I would never disrespect them,” Sukuna finally says, sheer conviction making you shiver.

The giant man stands to take his place not even a foot from you. Magnetism draws you to his face and you cannot look away. His hand comes up and brushes his large fingers across your cheek.

And like an open book, he reads you from the front cover to the very last word, reading off your exterior cover and the interior pages you’ve hidden away. “You’ve carved yourself from early maturity, into someone that your loved ones have needed you to be. You’ve never been able to truly be yourself, be free. You’ve always had to be the rock that everyone has needed, when no one has been for you. You desire to be loved, but not at the expense of heartbreak nor sacrificing the person you’ve molded yourself into for the people you love. You desire to be free above all else, not wanting to be loved unless there’s someone who can love you and give you your freedom at the same time.”

You gape, eyes almost as wide as saucers with your eyelids lined with burning tears. You dip your head and sniffle.

“I want that. I want that for you. I want to be the one to give that to you,” Sukuna continues. “The time we spent together not even a week ago, I want more of that. I no longer want to live the way I’ve been living. I want to live with you, do those kinds of things with you. That sounds corny as fuck coming from me of all people, but that’s the truth.”

You can’t help but laugh. His tone of exasperation at himself was just too funny not to.

“And what happens when you give me those things? Will you be done with me? Move on to the next person?” you ask. “Once you’ve played the part of the savior, won’t those feelings end?”

“I’ll never be done with you,” he answers instantaneously, like it was nothing short of law. “You’ve captivated me, all of me. I’ve already tried pulling myself away a multitude of times. But then one little word of anything about you and you’re all I think about for the rest of the day.”

You sniffle again and laugh. “Did you practice this? You sound like a poet.”

“I can be one if you’d like.” You giggle at that. It’s silly, but you feel like Sukuna would oblige you if you said yes. “But I mean it, every word.”

You nod and whisper, “I know you do.” Because it’s the truth. He’ll never not mean anything he says. Brutal honesty is apart of Sukuna.

The emptiness of your apartment is deafening, it’s silence almost palpable to the point where you feel like you might being to suffocate. But large, firm hands cup your cheeks and bring oxygen into your lungs again.

His hands are warm, so warm. The feeling of being touched like this, so intimately, makes all the blood flow to your cheeks to the point where you think you’ll overheat.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, tone quiet, voice deep and baritone that makes shivers roll up your spine. “At least once?”

You can’t help but bite into your lower lip. The suffocating feeling has returned, just for a different reason. But your instinct goes first — action taking the initiative over the brain — and you nod once more, mumbling out a small “yes” that you chastise yourself for being so meek.

Sukuna’s free arm wraps around your waist and gently pulls you to your tippy-toes. You’re running on instinct, one hand resting on his chest, the other circling behind his neck, eyelids slowly closing as he dives in for the kiss you’ve allowed. And when his hand cradles the back of your head, his lips meet yours, and you swear to everything from heaven to hell that you’re about to explode and die in this man’s arms.

Everything feels like it’s on fire… until it doesn’t. That fire slowly simmers down to a gentle flame, one that brings a sense of contentment.

Sukuna tilts his head, moving your lips and deepening the kiss. You allow it, and it feels like the kiss has sunk to a new depth of desire. Dare you even think or say it be devotion. His lips are warm and sweet on yours; his kiss isn’t one of urgency, but perhaps the desperation of longing. It’s not slow and controlling, not greedy. Whatever this kiss is and all the emotions contained within, you know it makes you at peace and content.

Everything feels perfect.

You both part for air, lips slow to disconnect. You can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed being so out of breath, but hearing the slight heaviness of breath coming from the large man makes you feel less awkward.

“Thought you said you hadn’t been in a relationship before?”

Your reply is breathless, “Never have.”

“Then you must be a naturally good kisser.”

That makes you laugh. You press your head to his chest and giggle away, to which you hear what you think is a chuckle from his throat.

It’s 11:20 at night by the time you look at the clock again. It’s too late for Sukuna to go home. That’s the excuse you use anyway. He’s seemingly more than happy to use the excuse right along with you to spend a night with you.

Come morning, however, things shift back to the way they were before: confusing and lonely. The couch was just as empty as the apartment. Under you was not Sukuna’s body, but a stack of pillows from your bedroom.

The note on the counter about being called in for an important meeting doesn’t do his absence justice either, instead sending every one of your walls back up, twice as high and just as thick as they were before.

Your phone dings with new messages. Utahime and Shoko, both of which declare they’re coming over to drag your ass out of your apartment to go shopping like you should’ve yesterday.

You text them back, telling them you’ll meet them at the mall, that you’re going to get ready and this time you aren’t going to miss out.

You don’t know what to do or what to think. You don’t know if one night of vulnerability means anything more than just being open with another human being. All you know is that you need a break, from yourself, your confusion, from life, and especially from Sukuna.

You need the clarity of a shopping trip and good friends for company, because your hopes for what’s coming next are getting far too high and you’re beginning to really fall in love with Sukuna Ryomen.

taglist: (no longer adding)

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #modern! sukuna #modern! au #jjk sukuna #sukuna fluff

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futureslaps · 1 year

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The Captive - Chapter 21

Chapter 20. Chapter 22

Sorry this took a bit longer to come out than usual. It would initially have gone up yesterday, but I wasn’t happy with it, so I basically rewrote 90% of it. Anyway, it’s here now, and I hope you like it!

Enjoy💙

Quaritch was outwardly calm as he felt Spider’s breathing slow in his arms, but anger was still burning inside him like a wildfire.

Seeing Spider in such a state, broken and scared out of his mind, endlessly pissed him off. It had taken him a good chunk of his willpower not to immediately demand that Spider tell him what had happened, then somehow break out and kick the nearest native’s ass.

Luckily, even as infuriated as he was, he’d known better. He’d figured out quiet a while ago that any attempt at a breakout would result in immediate death. If the guards were vigilant, they would probably cut him down before he even left the hut. Quaritch wasn’t about to get himself killed in a fit of rage. His time would be up in a few days anyway, so he wasn’t going to waste the time he had left.

He made an effort to calm himself down. He knew had to keep his head on his shoulders, at least while his son was here with him. Spider needed him to be here, calm, and present. Going berserk in front of the kid probably wouldn’t be very helpful. Quaritch tried to shift his mind onto something else to calm himself, but he couldn’t help gritting his teeth as the time passed.

The hut slowly began to illuminate as morning approached. Quaritch’s spirit sank a little when he realized he had to wake Spider already. His son couldn’t have been with him much more than an hour since he’d arrived so late in the night.

He was almost tempted to let Spider keep sleeping. Let Sully find them together, a big fuck you to the man. But he had to put his pride aside. Spider was already hurting now, and Quaritch didn’t want to imagine what would happen to his boy if everything came out. He frowned as he looked down at Spider, sleeping peacefully in his arms. It still hurt like hell to wake him…

For one more moment, he closed his eyes and held Spider as close to him as he could, savoring the final moments of contact. He tried to imagine that Spider truly didn’t have to leave, that everything was okay.

But it wasn’t.

He sighed, braced himself, and shook Spider awake.

“Hmm…?”

“It’s time to go, kid.”

“Already…?” Spider’s voice was tired, broken.

“You got here late last night, kid. You’ve gotta go now, it’s already getting bright outside.”

But Spider didn’t move. He remained in the same position, half holding, half leaning onto Quaritch’s arm.

“Kid?” Spider didn’t answer. Quaritch assumed he must have fallen asleep again. He gave his son a firmer shake.

“Kid.”

But Spider hadn’t been asleep. He turned his head to look up at his dad, tears in his eyes.

“I…I don’t want to go.” Spider’s voice was weak, pleading. It made pangs of guilt shoot through Quaritch.

“I don’t want you to go either, kid. But you’ve gotta. It’s morning.”

Spider shook his head.

“No…you don’t understand. I…I can’t go back. I don’t belong with them.”

The words took Quaritch by surprise. The one thing Spider had always insisted upon his time as Quaritch’s captive was that he belonged with the natives. All of Quaritch’s efforts to convince Spider that he should be among other humans had failed miserably. It had been like talking to a brick wall. It had even, somehow, made Quaritch feel a little proud, seeing that his son had inherited his own sense of loyalty.

What the hell had happened?

Hearing the words from Spider filled him with equal parts sadness and anger.

“Kid…”

Quaritch tried to think of something encouraging to say.

“Those are your people out there. You always told me yourself…”

But Spider shook his head again, the words just upset him more.

“No. They aren’t my people. I was stupid to think they ever were.” Spider croaked out the words.

Quaritch was at a loss. Sully could come through the door at any moment, but he had to try to comfort his son.

“Well…there’s still Sully’s family. I may not like ‘em, but…” Quaritch was desperate even mentioning them like this, but he hoped at least they could inspire some comfort in Spider. But at the mention of the Sullys, Spider let out a sob. He didn’t say anything, but the pained look on his face told Quaritch all he needed to know.

Rage started to rise in him like a wave, surpassing any anger he’d been feeling before.

Sully.

Of course it was Sully behind this.

Quaritch let out a low growl. His son had stayed loyal to Sully the entire time they were together. As far as Quaritch could tell, Spider practically idolized the man. And in exchange, Sully kicks Spider to the curb? Was this some sick revenge? Making Spider suffer to get at him?

The cry of some animal outside snapped him back to reality.

Shit. Spider was still here. As much as it pained him, Spider had to leave now. It was already well into sunrise, and the villagers would be up and about any moment. Spider’s chance to get out unseen was rapidly fading.

Quaritch’s instincts were screaming at him not to, but he forced himself to push Spider out of his arms.

“Kid. You need to go. Now!” Some of the mounting rage he was feeling had slipped into his words. Spider jumped at the sudden aggressiveness.

“Dad…” Spider choked out, tears rolling down his face.

“If you get caught here, we’re both in for a world of pain! Go!”

Spider looked broken. Desperate. The sight tore Quaritch apart.

“Please, dad. I…can’t…”

“Spider.” Quaritch again had to force himself to do what he needed to do. “Go. Now. That is an order!”

He hadn’t used the phrase with Spider in months, but he needed to get the point across.

Spider, stood still for a moment, his bottom lip trembling. His eyes were closed as tears poured down his cheeks. It took all of Quaritch’s willpower not to hug the boy and never let go. Finally, Spider gave a slow nod.

Hesitantly, he made his way to the opening. He took a shaky breath, then, carefully, he crawled back through.

Quaritch let out a small sigh of relief, then, immediately turned and drove his fist into the tree behind him with all his strength. For a moment, he held the pose, shaking. His mind was on fire, overwhelmed by a mixture of fury and anguish.

He took a shaky breath of his, own then swung at the tree again with all his might, again and again. The rage pouring out of him as he sent splinters of bark flying. Some also lodged into his rapidly bloodying hands, but he didn’t care. He only let out a roar of anger.

He fucking hated this.

He hated everything about his situation. He hated that Spider was out there suffering. He hated that his son had to take enormous risks to even visit him. He hated that Sully was making things worse of Spider. Most of all he hated how he couldn’t do shit about it.

His son was going through hell out there, and he just had to sit in this shithole and take it. Quaritch was tempted to try to gnaw through his binds with his bare teeth. He would rip through them like a rapid dog, then he’d tear at the canvas of the hut until he got through or his arms fell off. Anything to get out there, take Spider far away from every blue-skinned bastard around, then put Sully in his fucking place. If he ever got his hands on that motherfucker…

They wouldn’t even have anything left to bury.

He grabbed the thick material binding his legs and pulled at it with all his strength, struggling against it like a wild animal. But, just as always, the ties didn’t budge.

Quaritch let out one more frustrated roar, then let himself fall onto his side.

It was useless.

His anger slowly subsided, replaced by a deep anguish.

Quaritch groaned. It was a pained, tortured sound, a reflection of everything he was feeling. He raised his bloodied hands to his face, holding his head as he lay on the dirt.

What did he even think he could do? He couldn’t even comfort Spider, for god’s sake. He’d had to look his son in the face as he practically begged for comfort, then all but throw him out of the hut. Having to do that had hurt Quaritch more than anything else he could ever remember.

He’d gotten Spider to go, but did it even make things any better? He was more painfully aware than ever of how much Spider was struggling outside.

I can’t go back.

Spider’s words replayed in his head over and over again. He’d saved Spider from getting caught, but he’d sent him back to what seemed to be Hell for the kid.

He let out another anguished groan. He felt so…powerless. Forced to choose between two ways of hurting his own son. It was torture. Everything about his situation was torture.

Having to order Spider away.

The knowledge that things were awful for the kid.

The upcoming trial.

Even the dump he had to stay in.

The fact that he couldn’t do anything about it.

It was all so…painful. Even for him, it was overwhelming.

As he lay on the floor, he felt a single tear roll down the side of his head, mixing with the blood that had dripped from his fists.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d shed a tear. In this new body, it was most likely never. But then again, he’d never been through anything quite like this. Today’s events had finally broken something in him.

He silently cursed Sully while a few more tears left his eyes, as if it could somehow improve things. But he knew that the man had won. There was no other course of events. In six days, Sully would kill him for good, and Spider would be left alone to his own fate. And judging from the way Sully was treating Spider, it wouldn’t be anything good.

Quaritch tried to think of something, anything, to give him hope. He needed something to hold onto. But his mind came up blank.

He let out one last, quiet groan as he lay on the floor, slowly trying to recompose himself. He refused to give Sully the pleasure of seeing him in this condition when he brought the food. But inside, he was shattered.

Sully had won, indeed.

Writing Quaritch telling Spider to leave was painful...

Hope you liked the way I wrote Quaritch finally cracking under the pressure, writing emotional!Quaritch is one of my favorite parts of this fic!

I felt like being forced to tell Spider to leave while he’s literally at his lowest would be enough to make a tough guy like Quaritch reach his breaking point, but idk. I couldn’t resist writing him shedding a tear.

If all the angst is too much, don’t worry. These past chapters were basically rock bottom for most of the characters, so things will start looking up somewhat.

Thanks for reading 💙

Taglist: @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation @onlyreadz @buzzing-honeybee @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

#avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar quaritch #avatar the way of water #avatar jake #avatar spider #spider socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

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Know You Better || Bucky Barnes

pairing: 40’s!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: your brother’s best friend, bucky, rescues you at the dance club and walks you home, but you both have feelings that are a bit more than friendly

a/n: i have been on such a 40s!bucky x rogers!reader kick i’m so sorry but i hope you enjoy! reblogs and replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 2.0k

warnings: attempted assault, fluff

masterlist || request || taglist

1940

Listening absentmindedly to the brunette seated beside him, Bucky took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes trained on you dancing across the room.

He wasn’t sure if you had seen him when you walked in, but he sure as hell did. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as soon as he caught you walking into the establishment with some of your friends, not even taking six steps into the building without some guy asking you to dance. Although he was there with his own date- a girl he had asked out at the diner yesterday- he regretted it as soon as he saw you in that other man’s arms and felt his heart drop to his stomach.

He hated it- thinking that way about you- he knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was wrong. You were Steve’s sister. There were thousands of eligible ladies in New York and he just had to have feelings for his best friend’s little sister.

He should have seen it coming- he had always had a soft spot for you- getting into fights any time someone looked at you the wrong way, making up lies about his sister begging him to ask you to braid her hair just so he could see you without Steve there, and even the simplest things like knowing he laughed harder when you were there laughing along with him.

As much as he hated it, he wasn’t the only one who had seen it either- his mom teasing him that one day he was gonna settle down and marry that Rogers girl, him having to slap his hand over his sister’s mouth because he just knew the little punk was gonna let it slip one day- he was undeniably soft for you with only you and Steve being none the wiser.

Watching as the guy rested his hand on your lower back, pulling you closer to him, Bucky began to feel his blood boil. Who did this guy think he was anyway? He didn’t deserve to hold you close like that. He didn’t know you. He didn’t know you the way that Bucky did.

As the band continued to drone on in the background, Bucky began to grow tired watching the sight of you two together and was ready to head home until he saw you shake your head adamantly and part from the man, making your way to the far corner of the dance club where the bathrooms were situated, the man you had just been dancing with following behind you.

As soon as you left his line of sight, Bucky put out the cigarette he had been smoking in the ash tray. Cutting off the brunette whose name he couldn’t even remember, he pulled out his wallet, leaving cash on the table before standing up.

“It’s been nice, doll.” He said. “But I’m gonna have to go.”

Without another word, he shoved his wallet into his back pocket, striding over to the back corner of the building.

Swinging open the door of the bathroom, you saw the man you had just been dancing with waiting right outside the door in the tiny hallway just off the main room.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, bumping into the man you had never caught the name of.

“One more dance?” He asked.

Shaking your head, you chuckled nervously trying to push past him. “No, sorry. I can’t.” You faux apologized. “My brother’s waiting for me at home and I don’t wanna worry him.”

Just as you attempted to move past him, he pushed you against the wall of the dimly lit hallway and grabbed your hands when you tried to shove him away. Struggling in his grasp you jolted backwards as his head made its way into the crook of your neck.

“C’mon sweetheart.” He whispered. “The night’s still young-”

“She said no.” A familiar voice spoke up from behind him.

Feeling a sense of relief wash over you, you took advantage of the man’s distraction and shoved him away from you, Bucky grabbing him by the collar of his shirt as he stumbled into him. Shoving him against the wall you watched as Bucky’s face came inches away from the man’s.

“Listen man.” The guy said throwing his hands up in the air. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked. “Didn’t look like that to me.”

“C’mon pal,” The guy chuckled nervously. “Just let me go and we can forget this ever happened.”

“Y/n?” You heard your brother’s best friend ask.

“Yeah?” You answered, standing up straighter.

“What do you think I should do with this guy?”

Wrapping your arms around yourself and checking the time on your wrist watch, you shrugged.

“I don’t know, Buck.” You sighed. “It’s getting late. Steve’s gonna wonder where the hell I am. I told him I was just goin’ to dinner.”

Heeding your words, Bucky pulled the man’s face closer to his.

“You got lucky this time.”

Once Bucky saw fear in the man’s eyes, he felt satisfied, throwing the man to the floor and watching as he scrambled to his feet and ran out of the hallway. Turning back to you, Bucky pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, slipping one out.

“I could have handled that myself, ya know.” You said, still leaning against the wall.

Shaking his head, he scoffed slipping the cig into his mouth.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” He said looking up at you, pulling a lighter from his other pocket. “You and your brother, Y/n... ya know... sometimes it would be nice to hear a ‘thank you’.”

You understood what he meant- Bucky was looking out for you just as he always had and as much as your pride hated to admit it- you were glad he had come to your rescue when he did.

Watching him bring the lighter to the cigarette that hung from his mouth, you shook your head.

“C’mon, Buck.” You groaned, snatching the lighter from his hand. “Those things will kill you.”

“There’s a war going on, doll.” He said plucking the lighter from your grasp. “I think a cig’s the least of my worries.”

Hearing the pet name slip from his mouth, you began to feel the heat rise to your face.

In all the time you had known James “Bucky” Barnes, you had heard him call dozens of girls that name, but never you. He had always called you by your name or teasing nicknames like “punk” or “kid”- never “doll”. That name was saved exclusively for girls you took on dates and kissed on the walk back to their apartments - not you.

But as he used the name on you for the first time, whether it was an accident or not, you felt butterflies floating in your stomach.

A part of you hated that you didn’t hate it and the other wished he would call you that again and again.

“James please.” You urged. “You know I hate the smell of those things.”

James.

As much as he loved his nickname, the sound of his first name falling from your lips was sweet as honey and so intimate he swore he would do whatever you asked when you said it.

Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he shoved it back in the pack and into his back pocket, pulling up his sleeve to check his watch.

“You’re right.” He said, clearing his throat. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you back home.”

Following him out of the hallway and into the main room, the sound of the band still playing in the background, you spotted the man Bucky had just thrown out speaking to what you assumed was one of his friends. Adverting your eyes from him, you instinctively moved closer to Bucky, wrapping your hand around his bicep.

Feeling your touch against his clothed skin, his heart skipped a beat as he pulled open the door of the club, both of you moving outside into the cool summer night air.

“Why were you here anyway?” You asked, walking alongside Bucky on the sidewalk. “You have a date or something?”

“Yeah.”

You felt your heart sink to your stomach.

“But I wasn’t interested. I stopped listening to her story about her last date two minutes in.”

Just now realizing that you had been holding your breath, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sorry, Buck.” You apologized half heartedly, a part of you glad that his date with another random girl he had just met didn’t work out.

“S’alright.” Bucky assured you. “There’s plenty of better girls in the city. I’m walkin’ with one of 'em right now.”

Glancing up at your brother’s best friend beside you, you met his eyes and smiled.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were flirtin’ with me, Barnes.”

Gazing down at you, your face highlighted by the dim glow of the streetlamp illuminating the sidewalk, his breath caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say next. You had been consuming his thoughts for months- years even- that now as you tested the waters he couldn’t find the right words to speak next.

He couldn’t risk losing you, but as he admired you in the soft glow of the moon shining above the apartment buildings, he knew he couldn’t risk not having you either.

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

Now the one speechless, you stared up at him, noticing the seriousness in his face- not a hint of his usual teasing smirk in sight.

Just as you opened your mouth, you watched as the light switched on in your apartment above.

Shoving Bucky against the wall of the building so he was out of sight, you looked up as the window opened and your brother’s head popped out.

“Y/n?” Steve asked. “That you?”

“Yeah!” You called. “I’ll be up in a second. I just gotta... fix my shoe.”

“Were you talkin’ to someone?” He asked, checking the sidewalk below you.

“What?” You asked, shaking your head. “I wasn’t talking to anyone. You’re hearing things- go back to bed before you wake up the block!”

With that you watched as your brother shrugged, moving himself back into the apartment, slamming the window shut. Emerging from the shadows, Bucky gestured towards the apartment.

“You’re lying to your brother now?” He asked. “You really don’t want to be seen with me that bad?”

Strolling towards him, you laughed.

“I love Steve, Buck, but sometimes he can be a bit too protective.” You said, grabbing the end of his tie. “I gotta go, but...”

Tugging on his tie, you pulled him towards you and when his face lined up with yours, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks for saving me, James.” You whispered in his ear.

As you dropped his tie from your hands, he stood up straighter, watching with wide eyes as you made your way back towards your apartment, throwing him one last glance over your shoulder with a smile before climbing up the steps and out of his sight.

Feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, fearing that he was blushing so hard anyone could see it even in the darkness of night, he held his hand up to the spot on his face where you had just kissed him, leaning back against the wall.

Feeling his heart thump against his chest, he knew he was done for.

A part of him had always known that his mother was right- that he was gonna settle down one day and end up with the Rogers girl. As much as he had dismissed it, promising “Ma, she’s Steve’s sister. She’s my friend”, he knew better. As he stood there leaning against the brick wall of your apartment building on that cool summer night, a part of him knew- as he would recount to you on your wedding day- that it was the end of the string of new girls on dates every other night for him and the beginning of the rest of his life.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fanfiction #40s!bucky

1K notes · View notes

t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Caught (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

ari0425

said:

Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and there two kids caught them? Just wondering😁

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Word Count: 1,675

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: slight smut, bad language, slight edging

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Yooooo, I had so much fun writing this lmao. I literally love writing all things Bakugou as a husband! It’s kinda short and it might be shitty lol so I apologize in advance. @ari0425 I hope I wrote this to your liking!😭😭😭 sorry it’s so late! Obviously requests are open and I’ll try and get to as much of them as I can. I’m so sorry for not being as active with my own content, life has just been super busy for me😭 My best friend is coming over tomorrow to chop off my hair so hopefully that goes well lol, and I will be officially out of my boot (hopefully) in the next week! I’ve honestly been walking on the broken technically since last week since it wasn’t hurting so hopefully I didn’t fuck anything up. Guess I’ll find out in a week! ANYWAY, I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend and don’t be shy about any comments or requests! I literally adore you all so much and I’m so very thankful and happy you guys like reading my shit💕💕💕🤗 stay happy and safe!

~~~~

“Why not?” Bakugou growled, his muscular arms folding across his chest. The sudden movement distracted you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but appreciate your husband’s strength.

His bulging arm muscles were thick and taut as they rested across his chest, his broad shoulders exposed to your greedy eyes; tank tops were designed with your husband’s physique in mind, you were sure of it. But you were also sure that he knew exactly what he was doing, because a smirk began to tug at his lips.

“I told you Katsuki, we have a busy day tomorrow with the kids.” You sighed, folding your own arms over your chest, your back leaning against the counter, an eyebrow raised; challenging the large hero before you.

His smirk dropped, a large scowl now taking its place. “It’s always about the fucking kids.”

You rolled your eyes at his statement.

Despite the rough words, you knew what he meant. Bakugou adored his children, he was a doting father, in his own way; but everyone knew that he would go to the ends of the earth for his children, he would protect them and cherish them no matter what. The minute he knew that you were pregnant, both times, he had never been happier. Bakugou could account for the five happiest times in his life, when you agreed to go out with him, when he became a pro hero, when you married him, and when you gave birth to his beautiful daughter, and then his beautiful son.

So, while his children were his pride and joy, sometimes… sometimes… he just wanted them to fucking go away.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to have you all to himself, and fuck, did he miss you. He craved having all of your undivided attention, being able to be alone with you. It had been far too long.

“Why can’t they go have a sleepover at Deku’s with his kids?” he huffed angrily.

You rolled your eyes again. “We can’t just pawn off our children to Izuku whenever you want to get your dick wet Katsu. Besides, they all hung out last week, when you and Izuku had that call about the hostage situation. I watched all of them.”

His eyes flashed in annoyance at your statement, his tall frame stalking over to you. You could never get used to how big Bakugou was compared to your small frame, his entire being radiated strength and power, it made you feel safe, secure… and most of all, it made you nervous.

Not because you were scared of him, far from it, but because it had been a long time since the last time you two were intimate. The physical aspect of your relationship was always there, always important to you, but recently it had just been hard to find the time to be together in that way, especially with how clingy your son started being, and how your daughter was involved in more activities at school that needed attention.

You could feel your heart racing as he towered over you, his large arms caging you in as his hands rested against the counter top on either side of your body, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me princess, it’s not just me that wants to get my dick wet. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to use that mouth for other things than just back talking to me.” He said lowly, his voice deep and dark, one of his hands came up to grab at your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb rubbed gently against your lower lip.

Your breath hitched in your throat, a familiar ache beginning to settle at the bottom of your stomach.

How did you get such a gorgeous husband?

“So, let’s just drop off the shitty kids with the old lady and be together already.” he finished, his fingers sliding down, wrapping themselves easily around your throat. He squeezed his fingers carefully, but there was enough pressure that caused a soft whimper to escape your lips. Bakugou sneered down at you, he knew your body far too well, knew exactly how to touch you to make you bend to his will.

But when your mind finally registered what he had said, a large scowl covered your lips, the arousal you were feeling simmering down dramatically.

“Don’t call our kids shitty, and we are not dropping them off with your mom when she just saw them yesterday. You either calm yourself down Katsuki or I’m not going to touch you for an even longer time.” you threatened, your palm resting flat against his muscular chest.

He growled angrily, stepping back away from you and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Why are you denying me so much? You fucking shit, aren’t you supposed to be taking care of your husband?”

“Shut up and go set the table Katsuki.” You sighed, turning towards the stove to finish dinner.

It was silent for a moment, and then his large arms wrapped carefully around your waist, hugging you softly to his muscular body.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when you felt his plush lips gently press against your cheek, and then he was gone. You turned to look at him stalk out of the kitchen and into the living room, probably to go round-up the kids.

Bakugou Katsuki might be rough, but underneath that hard exterior that man was entirely soft when it came to you and his kids.

****

This wasn’t how you imagined this morning going.

Soft moans were being muffled by hungry kisses, the sound of ruffling sheets and skin slapping against one another surrounded the quiet room.

Perfection.

That was this was.

“Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock princess.” Bakugou growled, his hips thrusting deep into your core.

You whimpered softly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the immense amount of pleasure. He filled you to the brim, your tight heat engulfing him completely.

This was what he had been missing, what you had been missing. The pleasure, the intimacy of feeling each other’s bare bodies sliding against one another, it was all too much.

“Katuski, w-wait…” You panted out, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, sliding down to hold onto his forearms, the familiar pressure was beginning to bubble up again, filling you up and aching to break through.

“Again? This is your third one princess, did you miss my cock that much?” he mocked you, one of his hands reaching down to rub at your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves, not quite putting pressure down, but the touch alone was enough to cause your body to arch up off of the bed in pleasure. You could feel tears prickling at your eyes, your body aching for release, except now that Bakugou knew that you were close, he was going to drag it out as much as possible.

The cruel bastard.

“Katsuki please,” you cried, his thrusts slowing down, he dragged his member out of your body before pressing back into your tight heat deeply, savoring every second of your begging, of your wet core.

“Beg harder princess.” he growled out, a sadistic smirk etching itself onto his lips. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

A whimper tore through your lips at his cruel words and slow pace.

You ached for release now, no words being able to form in your mouth, which didn’t sit well with Bakugou since he gave a particular hard and deep thrust at your silence.

His thumb suddenly pressed down hard against your clit, rubbing fast and rough, causing a jolt of pleasure to ripple through your body.

You felt it then, the wall cracking as your release began to build up and up and…

“Mama?”

You and Bakugou froze, both of your heads snapping over to the small child that stood near the now open door. Your son rubbed at his eyes sleepily, his teddy bear dragged against the ground in his other hand.

You would’ve thought it was the most adorable sight you had ever seen, except for the fact that your husband was still buried deep inside of you. You silently thanked the universe for the fact that the sheets were still wrapped around your guys’ body, covering you up completely.

Your son looked at you in confusion for a second, taking in the scene before his little three-year-old eyes and then…

His face turned angry. He was the spitting image of Bakugou, except for the eyes and his personality, that took after you.

“Wow really?” your daughter suddenly appeared at the door, looking at you guys in disgust. While your son might look like your husband, your daughter looked just like you, minus the hair and her personality. Those of which she inherited from her father.

The personality part was a bit unfortunate, especially considering how much she and Bakugou butted heads, especially now that she had just turned nine.

“Get off my mama!” Your son began to yell. “You are hurting her!”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as your son began taking a step towards you guys only for your daughter to grab his hand.

“She’s fine.” She said curtly. “Let’s go watch cartoons. Leave mama and shitty papa alone right now.”

Your lips twitched in amusement at her words, she was definitely Bakugou’s first born, that much was obvious.

“Oi, you shitty fucking brat what did you just call me!?” Bakugou growled, a tick mark appearing above his head as he looked at his children.

“Shitty papa.” Your daughter said simply and closed the door as she walked off with her brother in tow.

“What the fuck! Who the fuck taught you that word you little shit!?” Bakugou screamed out.

Laughter bubbled up through your lips, causing Bakugou to scream at you next for laughing.

But you couldn’t help it, your heart was entirely full right now.

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 years

Text

mr. worst cup

CollegeBarista!Jaemin x Reader

summary: Jaemin messes up your order and in turn messes up any chance at any sort of relationship with you (or so he thinks)

word count: 4.3k

A/N: I really hope you guys like it!

Taglist! @eggbutnotyolk

Mornings, Jaemin hated them. Yes, that was beyond cliche, but it was the truth. Especially right now. At approximately 7 am, Jaemin also hated being awake, Jeno, being cold, people, Jeno again, and work.

Jaemin and Jeno both worked at a cafe near campus where Jeno worked the morning shift, had time for a quick workout, then went to school, all because he enjoyed mornings. On the other hand, Jaemin hated mornings, so he slept in, went to class in the afternoon for a few hours, and then came to work in the evenings. It was a schedule that just worked for the both of them, no downsides- usually.

But Jaemin was not in the comfort of his bed, dreaming, drooling, and snoozing away like he could have been this morning. No, he was working Jeno’s shift because Jaemin was the best friend on the planet and he would do anything for Jeno anytime Jeno wanted- no. Jeno had woken up with a high fever and a sore throat, and it was easier to wake Jaemin, his roommate, to ask for him to cover his shift than to text another coworker. Anything for the health of the general public, gag, Jaemin hated how nice Jeno was sometimes.

So after opening at a bright and early 6:45, helping only one customer in the 45 minutes that he had been open, Jaemin was starting to feel that anger from being up so early. He should have some coffee to give himself energy and help with the anger, but his brain just couldn’t seem to send the signals to his limbs to make him move. His eyes were locked on all the empty tables and chairs of the cafe, tables and chairs that were always filled during his normal evening shift. The emptiness paired with the godforsaken jazz song playing over and over and over again were driving him insane. After a five-minute war between his mind and body, he got to work making a drink for himself. His specialty iced americano with his precious eight shots of espresso. His priceless, liquid gold. He was so concentrated while making his drink that he didn’t even hear the door open to reveal his second customer of the day.

“Oh my god, Jeno! Eight shots?” He heard a voice exclaim. “Oh, you’re not Jeno, I’m so sorry.”

“Just a minute please, I’ll be right with you,” Jaemin replied.

He couldn’t keep you waiting forever, so he set his prepared drink aside and made his way to the customer at the counter. Oh, this cute customer. He quickly turned to the register, asking you for your order with a polite smile.

“Just a medium iced caramel latte with almond milk, double the caramel drizzle, and an extra shot please.” You recited your order.

He nodded, took the money, and began working on your order, but unfortunately, his mind was not on your order. He just wanted a sip of his coffee, for the energy to kick in. His body was craving it, the taste, the energy that would make him feel normal, like a human. He could have gotten a quick sip in if the bell over the door hadn’t distracted him. Another customer, same routine: smile, I’ll be right with you, finish one drink, new drink to make. He distractedly reached for the cup on the counter, calling out your name before turning to the new customer.

You approached the counter hesitantly, this did not look like your drink. The bell over the door sounded again and again as you hesitantly reached for the drink that was supposedly yours. You could just ask him to remake your drink, but the line was getting longer with the morning rush beginning and you had to get to class soon. That and you would feel awful asking him to waste supplies to make a simple drink again.

Okay, you reassured yourself, hopefully, this wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe this barista just makes it differently, much differently, than Jeno does. You grabbed the drink and a straw, calling out a “thank you” as you walked out of the cafe. Stopping beside a trash bin you unwrapped the straw and took a sip of the pitch-black drink. Your face scrunched up in disgust, you could barely fight back the urge to spit out the coffee, no matter how hard your body was screaming at you to get it out.. You could not bring yourself to even look at the poison in hand so you tossed it into the bin, what a sad waste of money and his work.

The next morning you walked in a little later, as your first class of the day had gotten canceled. You joined the line, looking at the menu because you could not and would not order your usual today. Normally you wouldn’t have to look at the menu, Jeno knew how to make your drink perfectly, but Jeno was not there. The take on your drink yesterday had scarred you, perhaps a hot tea today.

“Hello, the caramel latte again today?” The same barista from yesterday asked. Where the hell was this guy getting “again” from?

You smiled almost apologetically with a hint of apprehension, “No thank you, just a mint green tea with honey please.”

He nodded, tapping away on the tablet, taking your money, and getting straight to work. The bell over the door became the background noise as the rush of professionals and early risers came in for their morning caffeine fix. Jaemin looked at the clock quickly, just 10 minutes before another coworker would show up to help him, this rush was too crazy. He quickly stirred the honey into the cup, called your name, and got to the counter to continue taking orders. It was too bad he didn’t get to make more conversation or look at you longer. Not in a weird way, he felt like he had barely had a chance to even get a glance at you today.

You had barely made it on time to class, sliding into your seat just a minute before your professor walked in and began a quick review of your last class. You sat back with a sigh, taking a sip of your warm drink.

Well, this was odd, your tea didn’t taste like tea at all. Maybe it was just the first sip? No, the next sip tasted like nothing but honey. Confused, you took the lid off the cup to take a look, only to be met with the sight of steaming water mixed with honey-no tea in sight.

After class, you sent a quick text to your usual barista and friend, Jeno, to let him know that you had notes for him. Time to carry on with your day, sadly caffeine-free.

Jaemin had had no idea that he had messed your drinks up so badly. When he had given you his americano the rush had just come in so when he went to look for his drink later he had figured that his coworker had just accidentally tossed it. The second day, he could blame the rush again. He had haphazardly tossed a tea bag in the general vicinity of the cup before passing it in your direction. So it came as a surprise to him that for the rest of the week that he covered Jeno’s shift, the cute customer that came in right before the rush, that would be you, had stopped coming in. It was a shame, but he could continue on with his life with little to no regret. Maybe he would see you again or maybe another customer would catch his eye. There was no use in dwelling on something he had no control over or wasting time letting his mind run wild with anxious thoughts of why you hadn’t come back.

That was until he came home one day a week later to find Jeno on a loud call. Jeno smiled and quickly mouthed to Jaemin that he was on the phone with a friend. “Jeno, I’m telling you. That was the worst coffee I have ever tasted. Never in my life have I had a drink that could be used to run a car. I just don’t understand how you could mess up a caramel latte that bad.” He heard.

Caramel latte? The voice sounded familiar but he was hopeful that maybe, just maybe it wasn’t you.

“And the next day, god Jeno, I ordered a tea because I was so nervous to order a coffee and all I got was hot water, then I stopped going until you went back.” It was you, This was the worst-case scenario and it was you, the cute customer that he had developed a tiny, little crush on. He tried to remember how he had made your orders, and he swore he made them the way he asked. But how was he supposed to remember anything correctly when he was up before 10 every day and coming in contact with a hundred people?

“Yeah, I can do Friday morning, see you then.” Had Jaemin missed the rest of the conversation? It seemed so.

“So Mr. Makes the Worst Cup of Coffee, how was your day?” Jeno smirked.

Jaemin scoffed, “We don’t even know if it was me.”

Jeno burst out laughing immediately going to explain that those were the days that he was sick while Jaemin yelled over him stating that perhaps, perhaps, it was another barista you were talking about. But they both knew that no one else that worked in the cafe drank anything nearly as strong as Jaemin’s iced americano. Jaemin sighed having clearly lost the argument, “How do you know them anyway?”

“We’re the same major,” Jeno answered with a simple shrug. Maybe it wasn’t too late for a change in major.

This customer was so close to home and he had somehow ruined one of the things he prided himself on. He was so proud of his barista abilities, it was a passion of his. Customers constantly came back for his drinks specifically, left him tips (for his drinks or looks- he didn’t care), asked when Jaemin would be back on his days off, and he had gotten employee of the month a few times.

After that night, you had not left Jaemin’s mind. It was like all he could think about was you. When he saw Jeno, every day, he wondered if Jeno had seen you. When he woke up every morning he remembered that you were up early, bright-eyed and ready to take on the day. At work, he constantly wondered if maybe you would come in and order something. Walking across campus he wondered if he maybe had a class in the same buildings as you. At this point, it was no longer a little crush on the cute customer that came in twice a couple weeks ago, it was a crush on a friend of a friend, someone that he could actually potentially meet one day.

Maybe he could run into you on campus, leaving the library after studying so hard that he could offer to buy you a cup of coffee. There could be a party soon that the two of you would magically bump into each other at where he could blow you away with his bartending skills. It was such a weird thing for Jaemin to experience, imagining what might be with someone he didn’t know beyond being a customer. He had been in relationships before but never had there been a person that consumed his every thought.

Granted the day after the call, Jaemin did feel a little- or really a lot of anger towards you saying he made the worst cup of coffee that he did actually let his anger fuel his day. He was flipping violently through textbooks, punching away at the keys on his computer, nearly ripping through sheets of paper with the pressure of his pencil. He didn’t like this feeling, he had to remind himself to calm down and take deep breaths. No one had ever made him feel this angry, if it was even anger that he was feeling or maybe just sadness poorly masked as anger. That made much more sense, it really did pay off to have taken that psychology class his first semester.

You had become so involved in every part of Jaemin’s day that he just wondered if in this very moment he was imagining you walking out of Starbucks while he sat at a red light on a sunny Friday morning. Had his mind become so powerful that he could now make things and people appear out of thin air? He hadn’t tried that since he was a kid, but maybe he had just become more powerful. It couldn’t be you though right? He knew there was no way he had super powers, but there was also no way it actually was you, it would be the biggest coincidence. He rolled down the passenger side window, leaning closer to the sidewalk where you were walking towards the parking lot and gasped when he realized that his imagination was in fact, not playing tricks on him, it really was you.

“Are you cheating on us?!” He screeched. Uh oh, he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. The stupid mermaid was just staring at him mockingly, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. It was the worst word vomit he had ever experienced.

You stopped and squinted trying to look at who had just yelled at you, lucky for you Jaemin was still in shock from actually yelling that he was frozen still with a hand clasped over his mouth. Yup, that would be the person that yelled. You looked him dead in the eye and took a long sip of the drink in hand. “Tastes better than yours.” You cheekily called back.

Jaemin’s jaw dropped, he was so ready to defend his barista title, his locally-owned cafe, but the car behind him seemed to think the opposite thanks to its incessant honking because the light had been green for more than 10 seconds. Once again, you had plagued his thoughts, not necessarily in a good way though. You had betrayed him-no, you hadn’t but he was dramatic.

He could at least spend some time away from you, it’s not like he saw you out in public very often, ever saw you on campus, or came in during his shift. He was lost in his thoughts as he walked through the door to his apartment. He heard Jeno laugh, then a new voice. Very odd, but he put on a smile and reminded himself to be polite.

“Hi- oh you,” Jaemin said.

“Nice to finally meet you properly, please don’t yell at me again.” You smiled playfully.

Jeno’s eyes widened comically in shock, immediately interrogating Jaemin. Why would Jaemin think it’s okay to yell at someone he doesn't know? Much less one of Jeno’s friends. Jaemin really did try to defend himself, but every time he tried to make a point it just didn’t make sense. He sounded so stupid. “I am so sorry about him.” Jeno apologized, elbowing Jaemin’s rib.

“I’m sorry too, it was inappropriate and rude of me to yell at you.” Jaemin recited. This was not the first time he had had to apologize for yelling at someone in public.

You waved the both of them off, “I was messing around, it’s nice to match a name to a face.”

Jaemin made his way to his room like a scolded child while you and Jeno returned to the screens in front of you, already typing away before the bedroom door even shut. Jaemin made a promise to himself that he would stay in his room until you left. There was no way that he would go out there and risk even more embarrassment in front of you, not just the customer he had a small crush on but the innocent pedestrian he yelled at that very morning. His mind was swirling with regret and thoughts of how badly he had messed up any chance he had with you. He could not go out there and ruin any remaining chance of friendship or even acquaintanceship, or even risk you going to Starbucks every day and never going back to the cafe. Half an hour later he pulled a pillow over his face to muffle his groans, these thoughts were making him crazy, one groan from his throat and a rumble from his stomach. There was no way he could wait until you left now, he had to get food.

Jeno looked up as the door opened, “Right on time, does chicken sound good for dinner?”

Jaemin nodded, ready to turn back and relax on his bed but instead he lingered in his doorway. He ignored the nerves in his stomach and decided that the best decision as a host in his home would be to not leave you alone while Jeno called in the order. Even if he did think you were a little bit of a treacherous snake- from a business standpoint of course.

He cleared his throat, effectively grabbing your attention, “So uh, what are you guys working on?”

“Jeno and I are partners for a project in a communications class so we have to analyze a bunch of sources and then explain why the audience could interpret each source in different ways.” You answered simply with a shrug, as if you had just told him how to make toast.

“Well that’s cool…”

It was now or never. He could talk to you now and clear the air in hopes of perhaps forming a friendship or he could stay quiet and try his best to enjoy the awkward environment. He let out a breathy, nervous laugh, drawing your attention back, “So I think I heard you say I make the, what was it? Oh, the shittiest cup of coffee you’ve ever had.”

Your eyes widened, “No, no, no! I didn’t say that exactly, I did say though, it was the worst coffee I ever had.”

“How badly could I have messed up your order? So badly that you had to go to Starbucks apparently.”

“I had ordered an almond milk caramel latte and received a coffee with not only no milk at all, so it wasn’t even a latte, but also no form of sweetness. On top of that, I had one sip at the beginning of the day that kept me awake and energized until midnight. And! You gave me tea with no tea. Surprisingly though, you are not the worst barista in the cafe.” You responded with a playful roll of your eyes.

Jaemin choked on his spit, “What do you mean? I remember the first day you came in while I was making my coffee… you got my coffee.” He dropped to his knees, “Forgive me, please.”

You threw your head back with a laugh, “Get up, I’ve already forgiven you. Jeno talks about you a lot, so I was actually looking forward to meeting you anyway, even if we did start off on not so great terms.”

“They said about 20 or 30 minutes, you good?” Jeno asked as he reentered the room.

You smiled with a nod, “We’re becoming the best of friends.”

Jaemin blushed, ready to get your attention off of him, “So, you said I don’t carry the title for worst barista.”

“Wait really? Who is it then, best to worst go!” Jeno exclaimed.

“First, is your owner, Johnny, right? Man, he makes a delicious caramel latte, the best I have ever had. Next, I guess would be Ren-”

“Renjun?!” Jeno and Jaemin interrupted.

“Well yeah, he’s super nice and added caramel syrup to the milk I think? Not sure, it was really good, and he added the cutest little drawing on my cup. You guys aren’t last or anything though, Haechan is.” You told them with a shudder.

You all burst out laughing as you recounted the time that Haechan had yelled at you while taking a phone order and ended up sliding a half filled, kids size cup of water across the counter with your name. Another time he was so busy flirting with another customer throughout the whole process of taking and making your order that he had given them your drink too and just given you a pastry instead. Jeno told you guys about a time that Haechan had poured coffee beans on the floor, not once or even twice, but three times in one four hour shift. Jaemin added his own story where Haechan had convinced a handful of customers that they were out of coffee until Johnny came in from the back with a bag of coffee beans.

You all wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes as you tried to catch your breaths from laughing so hard. Jeno sat up when he heard a knock on the door. It was probably the delivery man.

Jaemin looked over at you, a happy smile still on his face. “You know, I would really like it if I could actually make it up to you.”

“Free coffee?” You asked excitedly.

He laughed awkwardly, “Uh no, I uh, um- I think you’re really... cool?”

“This is fucking painful. Jaemin thinks you’re cute and this is his lame attempt at asking you out on a date.” Jeno jumped in, setting the bag of food on the dining table.

You flushed, immediately feeling hot, “I would actually really like that.”

The dinner was clouded with awkwardness, little glances here and there paired with a little conversation. Now that you both knew you at least kind of liked each other, and were interested in one another there was no way he could ruin his chance by saying something embarrassing. All the conversations were basic, surface-level, first day of class icebreaker, boring. What’s your major? What do you want to do with your major? What year are you? How long have you and your best friend since birth lived together?

“Maybe it was better when you hated each other, I can practically feel the tension.” Jeno sighed, reaching his hands forward to “grab” the tension. Maybe Jeno would eat his words when the sparks began flying after the first date, maybe. Yeah, probably.

BONUS

“I’ve had a really good time with you.” Jaemin smiled down at the ground. The blush on his cheeks was hot while your hand in his was warm.

“I’ve had a great time with you too, you really made up for all your little mishaps.” You replied.

Jaemin laughed, “Which reminds me, I have to finally show you that I am in fact the best barista, ever. Would you mind if we stopped by the cafe?”

You shook your head, holding his hand tighter on the walk to the cafe. He held the door open for you and guided you towards an empty seat close to the counter so you could both still talk to one another.

“Welcome! Oh, Jaemin was this your date? I’ve seen you here before right? I’m Johnny, the owner.” Johnny greeted with a smile.

“Nice to meet you too, I love your cafe. Jaemin is making me a replacement drink since he ruined the first couple of drinks. He doesn’t have to, but he practically insisted.”

“And you didn’t call and complain? You must have really liked him.” Johnny laughed.

You couldn’t fight the heat creeping up your neck, so you quickly looked away from the owner standing in front of you to avoid more embarrassment.

“Ah, I’ve never made you this nervous! Here is your iced caramel latte with almond milk.” Jaemin teased as he set the drink in front of you. He looked at you expectantly, awaiting your verdict.

You took a sip, pleasantly surprised with the familiar taste of your favorite drink. “It’s so good! Thank you.”

“Better than Johnny and Renjun?” Jaemin asked.

“Maybe stop the questions while you’re ahead buddy, there’s no way it could be better than mine. Hope to see you soon.” Johnny smirked as you both left.

Jaemin pouted the whole way back to your apartment, you had to reassure him that it was so good that soon he would get sick of seeing your face around the cafe.

He stopped in front of your door, “I don’t think I could ever get sick of your face, so I would really like to take you out again.”

“I would really love that, goodnight Jaemin.” You smiled, pulling him in for a hug before making your way inside.

Jaemin smiled, stepped back from your door and slowly began to make his way home. Walking slowly as his thoughts were filled with date ideas, your face, and just how amazing you truly were. He was so in his head that he didn’t even realize you had come back out to see him again until he felt you tug on his wrist so he could face you.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked breathlessly.

He smiled widely, nodding energetically as he placed a hand on your waist to pull you closer, inviting you to do as you please. Your hands came up to the nape of his neck, nervously playing with his hair before you finally pressed your lips to his own. A short but passionate kiss, it was like your lips were made for one another.

“I’ll see you soon, text me when you get home.” You told him bashfully, holding onto his hand until it eventually fell from the distance between you two. He agreed, locking eyes with you until you were out of his sight and there was no possibility of you ever leaving his mind. Sparks indeed.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop reactions #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fic #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct au #nct dream au

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moonctzeny · 4 years

Text

Work for it

Part II: Promotion

pairing: coworker! johnny x reader

other members as background characters: haechan as johnny’s assistant

genre: smut

warnings: explicit smut, semi-public sex, spit in mouth, pussy slapping, throatpie (omg I got so embarrassed writing this down)

word count: 5,792

summary: “One of your co-workers, the supervisor of the Sales Department John Suh, is arguably the hottest man you’ve seen in your life. You try to act on your crush but he is just plain oblivious to your efforts, but you won’t stop until your fantasies come true”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Work for you was living hell and no, it wasn’t for the normal reasons. You had a nice job as an intern in the Financial Department of a company, and with your hard work getting recognized, you were looking forward to being offered a permanent position soon.

Today was no different. You had made sure all your files were organized, calls made and deadlines in check. All you had left to do was look over a report in the office of none other but the man who was causing your suffering. Mr. Suh.

Mr. Suh, or Johnny as he insisted on being called, was the supervisor of the Sales Department but he didn’t let it get to his head. He was extremely friendly, willing to help his subordinates and brought a smile to everyone’s face. Working with him would be amazing if there wasn’t one little problem. He was the sexiest man you had ever seen.

Now, now, you weren’t some middle schooler. You came into this company committed to get the position you deserve, not beg for some man’s dick. But when he first welcomed you in the main elevator, tall height, hair pushed back and with a face of godly facial structure, you almost pressed the stop button so he could take you right then and there.

You brought some files along and ascended the stairs that lead you to his office on the top floor. It would be more convenient if Mr. Suh sent the report downstairs with his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, but you insisted on paying him a visit, saying something about how a little work out never hurt anyone.

When you saw Donghyuck at his desk, he didn’t even look up from his laptop, pointing at the door instead.

“Put your panties back on. He’s on the printing room”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, used to his teasing about your crush on mr. Suh and headed out for said room at the end of the hall. Johnny was hunched over a machine, shaking it from side to side.

You knocked lightly on the already open door to announce your presence, and he turned around, flashing you his killer smile.

“y/n, hello! I was just trying to get you a copy of the report, but the damn printer seems to be broken again.”

You tried to tell him that it’s okay, that you can use the printer from your floor downstairs, but then he bent over trying to locate the cause of the malfunction, giving you a perfect view of his ass in his fitted tracksuit. Rutting the machine around, he thrusted his hips forward, letting out the occasional grunt, and you took a mental picture for later. He must have shaken something a bit too hard, because ink started to spill out of the cartilage.

“Aww, it’s dripping everywhere”

He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, and you couldn’t help but stare at how veiny and strong his arms looked as he pushed down. Your mind wandered off, imagining how nice it must feel to have him on top of you, applying this kind of pressure with his pretty hands around your neck as he-

“y/n? Are you ok?”

“Uh-um yes! Sorry Mr. Suh, it’s been a hard day”

It’s been your cute ass that made it hard for me to function around you was what you actually meant. He winked your way, and you were almost sure he did a double take on a skirt you wore that he had complimented before.

See, it’s not like you never thought of making a move on Johnny. You knew he was single, and he even told Donghyuck that he thought you were cute. Romantic relations between coworkers was not a rare thing, but the way everyone around here respected him made you nervous to approach him. No matter how many people fell for his charming personality and his visuals, he was never part of the company’s gossips and you knew the reason. The guy was denser than a brick wall.

You tried testing the waters with him, taking the light flirting a bit further, but he never seemed to catch the point. Maybe he was so used to getting this kind of attention that he dismissed your attempts as just friendly banter.

But you weren’t ready to give up.

“Sometimes I like coming here to relax. This place is usually so nice and quiet. It gives you privacy to do so many things”

What you said must have piqued his interest, since he gave up on the printer and turned his attention to you instead.

“Things, that the company wouldn’t approve of doing in here?”, he said in a lower voice than before and your throat felt dry when you answered him.

“Yeah. It’s just, we wouldn’t get caught in here, you know?”

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean”

He took two steps towards you before lowering down to whisper closer to you.

“I actually know a place that has even more privacy than this room. I usually go there alone, but it will be so much more fun with you”

Droplets of sweat had collected on his temples as a result of his physical activity earlier, making his words sound so much more enticing. He looked around, checking if anyone was standing in the hallway, before whispering again.

“This will be our little secret, ok?”

You swallowed hard and nodded, ready to get your world rocked by John Suh. He reached for something in his back pocket, but instead of a condom, he whipped out something you’d never expect.

A pack of cigarettes.

“I told everyone I’d quit but the stress gets too much sometimes, you know? I didn’t remember you smoke, though”

Oh my god. Oh my god, you were so stupid. All this time you thought you coaxed him into a steamy, clothes-on, ass on the printer quickie and he meant sneaking you out for a guilt-drenched cigarette break??!!

“Right! You didn’t remember that I smoke because.. because I don’t! ...Anymore. I mean, I quit, just like you. And you know what Mr. Suh, we shouldn’t succumb to the needs of the flesh! Fight back to our bad habits and get healthier! Together!”

He was frozen in place, dumbfounded by your sudden anti-smoking monologue.

“Wow y/n I didn’t know you were so serious about this. Very impressed by your spirit though.” He patted you on the back before picking up the report from the printer and getting to the door. “I’ll tell Donghyuck to print this for you and deliver it to your desk. Won’t take too long, alright?”

And just like that, he managed to leave you in the printing room alone, horny, and one report down.

——————————————————

The next morning at the office was as typical as any other, with the difference that it was raining cats and dogs. The low that was centered over the area caused continuous storms, the rain and moody atmosphere making it impossible for you to keep your eyes open.

You headed over to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, already the second one of the day, when you saw a very familiar someone occupying the coffee machine.

“Mind if you make me a cup too Mr. Suh? I hear you make the best coffee in the office”

He chuckled at you, instantly recognizing your voice.

“It’s my pride. I do love coffee” After turning on the machine he looked at you finally, a serious look on his face. “Listen, y/n, about yesterday, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to drag you down with me like that. You were right about the cigarette thing. I’ll quit for good”

You blinked at him, trying to grasp the ridiculousness of the situation and feeling a bit sorry for guilting him like that.

“It’s ok Mr. Suh don’t worry about it. No big deal”

“Oh and, please, call me Johnny. You make me feel a thousand years old. I’m not that much older than you.”

“Yes Mr.- Johnny”

Just at that moment, a lightning struck, making you jump in place. You glanced at the window, or rather the stormy mess outside, and sighed.

“Chose the wrong day to forget my umbrella huh?”

“You want me to drop you off?”, he offered, immediately making you panic.

“No no! It’s okay. The metro station is really close. It’s fine if I get a little wet anyways, I won’t melt, I’m not made of sugar”

You cringed a bit at your nerve-induced blurting, but it would all be gone in a second.

“You’re sweet like sugar though”

He poured the now brewed coffee on both your cups and you just stared at his movements in shock. Did he just? Initiate the flirting? And called you sweet?

Ok, this is it, you thought.

“Do you like sugar?”, you asked him seductively, making your arms touch. You had to take advantage of this opportunity. The ride home suddenly didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“Oh no thanks I drink my coffee black”

Looking at the clock on the wall he picked up his cup and took a sip, striding out of the kitchen and leaving you speechless, much like yesterday.

“I’m late for a meeting. See you later, y/n”

You groaned as you watched him walk away, pouring an excessive amount of sugar in your drink.

“That’s not what I meant...”

———————————————————

Meetings usually meant making sure you had enough battery on your phone to silently play your favorite game, while you heard some old guy in a suit blabber on and on about the most boring topic on earth. Usually you’d be complaining about why they just had to take away valuable time of your day to talk about an issue that could very easily be briefed in a mass email, but not today. Because today, the man of honor who got to do all the talking, was Johnny.

To anyone else, you looked like the most eager intern in the company, taking in every single word that came out his mouth. In reality, you were just immensely turned on by his fluent English, his new suit, and his ability to capture everyone’s attention. You had no idea what he was talking about, but you could listen to him talk all day about how “Results are important” and “Taking a more aggressive strategy is vital”.

A sudden noise made everyone turn to the exit door, only to see that it was just the cleaning lady that had dropped her bucket as she was going down the stairs. You felt Donghyuck, who was sitting next to you as always, nudge you with his knee.

“Oh look, she brought a mop for your drool, how nice of her”

“I’m not drooling”, you whispered back with a glare, shoving him with your elbow.

“Right”, he chuckled, “you’re ready to get on your knees for him right now”

It was really hard to get the picture that Donghyuck had painted out for you off your head for the rest of the meeting. You pathetically rubbed your thighs together to get the slightest feeling of relief, and tried to mute out Johnny’s sexy voice with no avail. When the meeting was finally over, you walked out of the meeting room along with everyone else, when you saw Johnny catch up with you.

“Hey y/n”

“Hi Johnny! Nice presentation up there”

He beamed up at your compliment and you wanted to coo at him for looking so cute. His aura changed a color when he replied to you, turning solemn.

“Thank you. Glad to see you’ve finally dropped the formalities with me”. I can drop my panties too if you want, you thought to yourself, but you only smiled at him when he managed to leave you speechless once again. “Is it wet?”

Wet? Fuck, was Donghyuck right? Were you really so caught up on eating Johnny up with your eyes that he noticed? That he realized you were so turned on by him? He saw your confused expression and tried to futilely explain.

“Is it wet? Down there?”

You were losing it. Was he really asking you that in front of all your coworkers? Your face couldn’t possibly get any hotter, feeling as if you were burning up with a high fever. You realized you hadn’t said a word back.

“E-excuse me?”

“Wasn’t the cleaning lady going downstairs earlier to mop? I figured you’d know if the floor was still wet. Since your office is on the bottom floor”

Get your mind out of the gutter, y/n. Quick, say something already! Stop staring at him like a lost puppy!

“Uhh no I don’t know actually. I’m sorry, I have to go”

You turned swiftly on your heel to walk away from him, and save yourself from any further embarrassment.

If Donghyuck was here to witness this, you’d never get to hear the end of his teasing.

———————————————————

You didn’t expect an email like that from the Sales Department. You were at your desk, minding your business when you got the notification, almost choking on the gum you were chewing on.

y/n,

I have something very confidential to show you in my office. I think you’ll be very pleasantly surprised. Bring your sexy ass over here at 16:00 sharp.

Johnny Suh

You must have re-read those 30 words about a thousand times to ensure you weren’t making things up. You freshened up your makeup, thanking the gods of sex that you decided to wear cute underwear this morning. All the things you were daydreaming about since your first meetup at the main elevator, were finally about to happen. Fidgeting around in your seat, you felt yourself getting wetter thinking of all the nasty things Mr. Suh was planning on doing to you in his office.

It was 16:25 when you walked up the stairs, not brave enough to make a man like Johnny wait. All his assistants were gone, probably send off somewhere to avoid having them hear your little unprofessional tête-à-tête.

You walked into his office, the door slightly open. He was sat on his chair, the back turned to you and you started to feel nervous. You didn’t notice he had changed his hair. And wasn’t he wearing a different suit this morning?

“Um Johnny? You asked to see me?”

He tsked at you, turning around.

“16:28? I thought you had more of a backbone than that, y/n. Also thought you’d come in here naked. Disappointing.”

The smug smile, the teasing voice. Donghyuck.

“The email was fake wasn’t it?”

“Luckily for you, yes, I was the one who sent it. I mean, seriously. This ugly brown suit for a dick appointment with Mr. Suh?”

When you graduated university with honors, you didn’t think you’d one day be charged with the murder of a company’s assistant. But right at his moment, as you grabbed the stapler from the desk and walked over to him ominously, you thought it was all worth it.

“Lee Donghyuck, after I’m done with you the only dick appointment you’ll make is with the ER doctor, to get these staples off your balls”

He got up, panicking, and started to back away from you.

“Somebody save me, please, mom!”

You were ready to grab him by his tie and fulfill your threat, when you heard someone clear his throat at the door. And this time it was the real Mr. Suh.

He had his arms crossed, a smile appearing on his face as you shoved your friend away and immediately dropped the stapler from your hold.

“You know, you two are always wasting time over here, messing around. Maybe I should punish you”

Oh god yes, please do.

It was Donghyuck’s deadpan expression that made you realize that you had actually said that out loud. Johnny raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“Oh, so you want the overtime?”

“S-sure why not? Not like I have anything better to do on a Friday night”

Your friend rubbed his palm over his face, cringing at the situation you got yourself in.

“Please, stop talking, I beg of you”, he murmured, when Johnny spoke up again.

“Well in that case, will you leave me and y/n alone to discuss some details?”

Donghyuck nodded, closing the door behind him and it seemed like he took all the oxygen along with him.

Johnny sat on his desk, whipping out some files for you. It might sound stupid, but the email, though fake, had put you in a certain mood, and having him sit so close to you wasn’t helping your situation.

“I will only give you the run down but please ask the supervisor in your department to explain further”

You tried listening to him talk about your overtime, you really did. But the way he was sitting on his armchair with his legs spread out, was practically begging you to do what Donghyuck had suggested yesterday and get on your knees already. You’d tell him to continue his work, challenge him to try and keep typing on his laptop as you’d palm him through his slacks. You’d wait for him to get a bit impatient, licking him over his clothed cock until it felt like it would rip from the fabric. He was definitely big, and you wondered whether you could take him. You’d put him in your hand and start sucking on the tip, then lick your way down to his base. Maybe he would have to take a call, and you would make it a goal to distract him by fitting him all inside your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. His little office slut.

“y/n. Get under the desk. Right now.”

His voice brought you out of your daydream but his words triggered another one. It felt like the world around you was shaking. Did he just ask you to get on your knees under the table? Could he read your thoughts? “y/n can’t you feel the earthquake? Get under the desk”

When you realized what was happening, you wished that the earth would just swallow you whole already, taking away the embarrassment with you.

Donghyuck met you outside. He had evacuated the building along with everyone else, happy that the small earthquake got them an extra five minutes of break.

“Did Mr. Suh pick you up in his strong arms like your knight in shining armor and save you?”

“Don’t talk to me I’m still mad at you”

He turned you around to face him, his lips pouting at you cutely and it was really hard to resist his doe eyes.

“I’m sowwyy I was just trying to help you out!”

“Help me out with what?”, you sighed, tuckered out, “he clearly doesn’t want anything more with me”

“Oh yeah? Is that why he hasn’t stopped checking out your ass ever since you left the building with him?”

You turn your head to Johnny’s direction, just in time to see his eyes shift from you and Hyuck to the floor. Maybe your friend was right. Did Johnny actually like you after all but was really just that oblivious to your crush?

“All I’m saying is”, he continues, “that you need to be clearer with him. He is the supervisor of another department than yours, he obviously won’t act out anything unless you give him the green light”

You nodded at him, a feeling of determination coursing through you. His words reverberated in your head until break time, planning out your seduction. You knew that there was no way you would be able to concentrate at work unless you gave it a shot with Johnny, even if it goes terribly wrong. Tomorrow, you promised yourself.

——————————————————

And tomorrow did come, finding you right outside his office door. Taking long, confident strides, you walk past Donghyuck who for once, was speechless, eyes widening at your appearance.

Johnny’s favorite skirt hug your hips, garters barely peeking under it. Your shirt was a bit tighter than usual, an extra button undone, revealing your cleavage. The room was filled with the clicking sound of your high heels, that were as uncomfortable as they were sexy. It was barely considered work appropriate but you didn’t care. You hoped you’d manage to at least grab his attention, then let your talking do the rest.

Taking a deep breath, you knock at the door, slowly opening it. Johnny was typing away something, looking delicious as always. Your voice was way more sensual than you’d usually let it be in the workplace.

“Johnnyy~, good morning. I’m here for that file I need?”

He had his eyes still glued on the laptop in front of him, his tone as bright as ever.

“y/n! I would send Donghyuck over you didn’t have to- “

He finally looks at you, his eyes quickly moving from your chest to your skirt, only to stay for a bit longer on your legs. He seemed a bit taken aback, his breath hitching in his throat but he shakes his head lightly, regaining his stature.

“-you didn’t have to come all the way up here”

“I know”, you mewl, picking up a pen from his desk and clicking it closed, letting the tip rest on your bottom lip, “I just missed you”

You saw him stare at your mouth before he cleared his throat, coolly sitting back on his chair.

“I think you’ll take this back when you stay for your overtime tonight”, he laughed, too friendly for your liking.

“No, no. I would never get tired of you, Johnny. Besides, I have a great stamina”

“That’s good! Being mentally strong is very important in this business”

Ugh, take a hint already!

“Well, yeah, but physical strength is important too. You know, I’ve followed your footsteps and started working out. I can go on for hours”

His eyebrows lifted up at your statement, “Yeah? And you followed my footsteps?”

“Well, everyone in the office has noticed you’ve been hitting the gym lately, especially me. Maybe, you could show me some of your workout exercises later?”

He stayed silent for a moment, like he was contemplating his answer and you swore you saw the faintest blush on his cheeks. His answer, however, would disappoint you.

“I was thinking of organizing an online group aerobics class, actually. I think Yuta from my department might be interested in hosting it”

The feeling of defeat was written all over your face. You were done. Smiling politely, you told him it sounded like a nice idea and asked for the file. You felt so angry at yourself for listening to Hyuck’s advice, every painful jab your heels gave your feet seeming deserving.

Donghyuck saw you leaving the room and would follow you to comfort you but he fully understood your frustration. Since you left the door open, he had witnessed everything, and boy was he furious.

He barged into Johnny’s office unannounced, scowling at him. Boss or not, he had to give him a piece of his mind.

“Are you seriously that blind?”

Johnny blinked at him, surprised at his unexpected appearance.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you seriously telling me you didn’t get that y/n was flirting with you?”

“R-right now?”

Donghyuck licked his cheek with his tongue, getting gradually more and more frustrated. “Yes! Right now! The hottest woman in the office was basically throwing herself all over you and you didn’t even ask her out?”

Johnny was shocked, fumbling for an answer, “I thought- I thought she was just being nice”

“Nice??”, the younger man screeched then took a deep breath to calm down, placing both his hands on his boss’s desk.

“With all due respect dude, but either you fuck her, or I will”

———————————————————

Nothing could make the horrible feeling you felt from your embarrassing incident earlier worse right? Wrong. Because it was Friday and you still had to go through with that overtime you had stupidly agreed with.

All your coworkers from your floor were gone, no one crazy enough to willingly work on a Friday night. You saw them all leave one by one, internally cursing them for their luck. The office was especially hot tonight and you were suddenly glad for choosing that skimpy outfit to wear today, even if it didn’t fulfill its original purpose.

In your deep concentration over the files scattered on your desk, you almost didn’t notice the shadow next to your office’s door. You could recognize these broad shoulders from miles away.

“Johnny, you didn’t go home yet?”

“I’ll leave soon, just wanted to give you some tips your supervisor noted for the work you’ll do tonight”

He smiled warmly at you, but his eyes held something you hadn’t seen before. Slyness, mischief maybe? You didn’t have much time to think about it anyways, because in a moment he was standing over you, next to your desk.

“You see, the loss of this week’s sales…”, he started, lifting the sleeves of his shirt up and revealing his veiny arms that you so adored, “...it’s much bigger than you think”

You gulped, your throat suddenly dry. His voice was deep, seductive, eyes staring right into yours.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yes. Doing all this paperwork, it’s very… hard. And it’s so hot in here, right?”

He kept his gaze on you, loosening the tie he wore around his neck. Was this your mind playing games with you again? You weren’t sure but he looked so good you couldn’t help your body from responding to him.

You got up from your seat, resting the side of your ass on the desk to be closer to his height. “If I got it right, you suggest that maybe you need to stay around for a bit? Help me out?”

He nodded, coming closer to you. You couldn’t stop gawking at the way his chest filled up his shirt so nicely, not caring if you were being obvious anymore. He was standing almost between your legs, and you could feel his breath fanning your face.

“It’s going to be tiring, but if you follow my orders you’ll get to finish. Think you can take it?”

Was it his suggestive words or his plump lips that made you feel so lightheaded? Either way, you wanted to dive in, to finally taste him. But you just had to ask.

“Johnny?”

“That’s my name”

“We aren’t talking about finance, are we?”

He stepped even closer, situating himself between your thighs that you gladly opened for him.

“Fuck no”

The way your hands grabbed him by the neck and pulled him into a kiss, was almost animalistic. Johnny kissed you back with almighty force, open mouthed and breathing heavily. With the dominance that characterized him and a bite on your bottom lip, he pulls you up on your feet by the ID that was hanging from your neck. He tasted like smoke and mint gum.

“I thought you’d quit smoking?”

You felt his right hand grab your throat and he broke the kiss, forcing you to look at him. It wasn’t the pressure to your air flow but his eyes that had you on edge. The usual golden flecks adorning his orbs were hidden behind his dilated pupils. “I’m just a man. There are some things I can’t resist”. He dipped his tongue into your mouth, making you feel like you’re in a fever dream with the way all your fantasies were coming to life. “Open up”, he growled against your lips and you obey like you promised to. He spit in your mouth, in a manner so dirty it had your knees shaking.

You started unbuttoning his shirt, wanting to see more of him. Starting with running your hands over his raging heartbeat, you continue down his abs and end up fumbling with his belt. Johnny helped you, springing out his cock and, damn, he may be half hard but that was the biggest dick you’d ever seen in your life.

He chuckles at your widened eyes but instead of making some cocky remark like you expected he leans down, leaving soothing kisses on your jaw. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you”. He continued his kisses to your neck, all the while unbuttoning your shirt. Leaving it on you, he pulls your boobs over your bra and starts playing with your nipples. The tingling on your breasts was tightly linked it the one on your heat and you decided you needed more.

You took his fingers from your chest and placed them between your folds. Johnny cursed out with how wet you were for him, and started rubbing circles over your clit, occasionally dipping the tips in your entrance. He kept at it, relishing in your moans and he would have ripped his tight little skirt off of you if you were in his bedroom. The build up sexual tension along with the semi-public setting made you close to losing yourself in him. You just needed a push, and Johnny was more than happy to give it to you.

“You’re gonna cum for me. That’s what you wanted wasn’t it? Why you got all dressed up like that?”

“Yes, for you, fuck Johnny”

“Come on, let it all out. Cum so I can fuck the hell out of this tight pussy of yours”

You came all over his fingers, grabbing his arms for support. He gave you a moment, wiping the tears off the corners of your eyes while kissed you slowly. When you started kissing him back with a refuelled passion, signalling that you were ready for what he had to offer, he was back, rougher than ever.

He petted your pussy, collecting your wetness and spreading it all over your folds. You jumped up when you felt him slap over your clit, the lines between pain and pleasure from the overstimulation blurry.

You knew Johnny was strong, but the easiness with which he lifted you from the desk onto your armchair shocked you. Spreading your knees as wide as the cushioned seat allowed you, you stuck your ass out for him. He gave your ass a little slap while you waited for him to slip on a condom. He came prepared, you thought, probably planned on doing this from the moment he stepped into your office.

Johnny filled you up completely, your hypersensitivity making you feel his thickness in all its glory. He started off slow, careful of your tightness, but as he picked up the pace, your vision was all stars and constellations of pleasure. You must have moaned too loudly, because he stopped his thrusts and, in a moment, you felt him shove his tie inside your mouth.

“There’s still some people in the building, remember? Or do you like my cock so much that you don’t even care if they hear?”. You couldn’t muster an answer so you just kept drooling through the fabric your teeth bit into. Your pussy was dripping onto the leather, your wetness allowing Johnny to sink even deeper inside you. The feeling was so overwhelming that you opened your mouth wide in a moan, almost dropping his tie in the process.

You reached out your hand behind you to grab one of his arms in desperation. “I’m so close, so close, don’t stop”. He stared back at you with a crazy look on his face, and pinned your hand back on the headrest in front of you. Lifting one of your legs in the air, he starts fucking you so rough you thought the chair was going to break.

Your second orgasm hit you hard, your trembling body making it clear his size got too much for you. But there was no way you’d let him leave this office without cumming.

You climb down from the chair and got on your knees in front of him. Grasping his cock from the base, you started leaving open mouthed kisses on his balls first. You suck one in your mouth and glance up at him with the most innocent look you could muster, the contrast to your actions driving him insane. Johnny leans his weight on his hands positioned on your desk, letting you work your magic.

Returning on his tip, you ran your tongue in kitten licks on the slit, teasing him. An eyebrow raise from him compelled you to behave, pushing him all the way down at once. It was almost as if you pressed a button at the end of your throat with the way it triggered a guttural moan from him. He weaves one hand through your hair to keep you in place for a second longer and you gag. His dick pulls out, and the string of saliva falls over your white shirt making the fabric look see through. The sight of your lipstick on him, your watery doe eyes and your nipples poking through your now wet shirt was divine. He pushed past your lips again, and this time you made a good use of your tongue. You quicken your pace, his shaky groans and sharp gasps letting you know he was nearing his release.

Grabbing both his flexed thighs, you concentrate your breathing though your nose and deepthroat him again. Johnny growls, hips stuttering and eyes fluttered closed in delight. Warm liquid runs down your throat, almost choking you, but you take it all, relishing in his grunts and the way he moans your name.

After you catch your breath he bends down, planting a gentle kiss on your lips and offers a hand to help you up. You buttoned up in an awkward silence, not exactly sure what should be said after a session like that in a place like this.

“So, I’m guessing Donghyuck told you about my little crush on you?”

“Yup. You should thank him”. He smiles at you sweetly, pinching your cheek lightly and then moving his thumb in circles over the skin. “You also should have told me”

You rolled your eyes, “Not like I haven’t tried to! How much more obvious did I have to be?”

“I’m sorry! It’s just- you’re so pretty and I didn’t wanna be another one of the creepy guys that probably hit on you in the workplace”

Smiling at his thoughtfulness, you chose to forgive him and reached up for another kiss. He engulfs you with his long arms, and you push some hair off his eyes, admiring their softness.

“How about, I let you finish up here and we go for dinner after you’re done?”

“I’m not sure how I’m gonna concentrate after what we did”

“I’ll cover for you, but I can’t promise you that I’ll stop myself from distracting you”

#johnny smut #johnny scenarios #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct johnny #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #johnny suh #heachan scenarios #donghyuck scenarios

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vivianweasley · 3 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 1)

Summary: You are Draco’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley.

Italics= flashback

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: workplace discrimination, slight slight mention of war

Word Count: 1.9k

Disclaimer: all the pictures used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on another site without explicit permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Prologue

Two days after the dinner at the Burrow, you ran into your friend when you were shopping at Flourish and Blotts. She just got out of the Daily Prophet, and you could see a name tag on her chest stating that she’s now a reporter for the Daily Prophet.

“You got the job?” You didn’t know how to process this information. You and she were in the same year and same house. You both took the same classes, your grades were almost the same, and you both got the interview for Daily Prophet at the same time. The only difference was that she got the job, and you didn’t.

“Yes! Today’s the first day! Wait, you didn’t?” She was finding it hard to believe too.

Memories of the interview flashed back. You could still remember how the interviewer immediately furrowed his brows when he heard that your last name is Malfoy. The distrust, doubt, and even disgust on his face were so painfully visible.

You knew your background couldn’t provide any help when it comes to finding a job, but you still encouraged yourself by thinking that maybe it was because you weren’t good enough. If that’s so, you could always make up for it by working harder. But now you realized that, no matter how hard you worked, you would never be good enough for them because people would always make false assumptions about you based on your last name.

You felt dizzy. The whole Diagon Alley suddenly appeared foggy and dim, looking quite like your future, but you soon saw a lighthouse at the end of it. The brightness of the orange joke shop seemed to point out a way out for you as Mrs. Weasley and your mum’s suggestions rang in your ears.

“I need to go now!” The walk was only five minutes, but you couldn’t waste any time as you apparated right to the door of the joke shop.

“Well, this is rare!” The owner greeted you with a big grin on his face when you opened the door.

You didn’t have time to start this conversation with George, so you went right into your question, “I’m looking for Fred Weasley. Is he here?”

George was shocked as multiple questions ran through his brain. Wait, you could tell between him and Fred? But does he know you this well? Or maybe you have some history with Fred? Merlin! Y/N Malfoy? And Fred??

But he said nothing, just pointed at the back of the shop as he was still trying to process the situation.

“Thanks.” You rushed to the back of the shop and saw Fred sorting through the boxes in the storage.

“Fred Weasley.” You stated with a straight face.

“Y/N Malfoy?” Fred mimicked your tone as he still wasn’t sure what’s going on. What was this woman doing in his shop, anyway?

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No. Why? Do you fancy me? Did you fall in love with me after that one dinner?” he teased.

You ignored him and continued, “Do you fancy anyone? Are you dating someone? Talking to someone?”

“Not that I’m aware of?”

“Great. Let’s get married then.”

The boxes fell from Fred’s hands. This woman is absolutely mental! “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, let’s get married. After I got a steady job, we can get a divorce anytime.” You knew he’s going to laugh it off if you don’t up your game a little, so you frowned, pretending like you were disappointed, “Well, guess you don’t have the guts to do it.”

Fred knew what you were trying to do, but he was still completely under your control when you were basically giving him a dare. This should be fun, he decided. He never really hated you anyway. In fact, he actually really admired you back in Hogwarts.

Back in fifth year, Fred and George tried to prank you. It wasn’t because you did anything in particular. It was just because you were Draco Malfoy’s cousin, and Draco was really obnoxious that year.

The prank was simple. they estimated when you would walk down the stairs and set a tripwire on your way, waiting for you to trip over and fall.

Fred and George were hiding behind a pillar, waiting, but nothing happened. When you were walking down the stairs, you stopped and pulled out your wand. “Incendio,” you whispered, and the tripwire just burned into ashes.

Watching their prank being busted, the twins were frustrated. George gave up on pranking you again. It’s not like you did anything wrong anyway. But Fred suddenly felt motivated. He’s determined to get you one day.

Fred tried everything. Be it canary cream or portable swamp, you always had a way to avoid his pranks gracefully, and sometimes, the pranks would even backfire on him. After trying for a month, Fred finally admitted defeat. He admired how your brain worked, and he couldn’t help but think that if you weren’t a Malfoy, maybe you two would be really good friends.

“Who said I don’t have the guts?”

You smiled with satisfaction, for you knew your strategy worked, “Good, I will see you at the Ministry tomorrow then.”

“Wait, you could get a job, but what’s in it for me?”

You knew he wouldn’t agree so easily, so you had already prepared a plan, “How about, as long as it‘s not illegal or against my own moral standards, I can do three things for you. What do you say?”

“Deal!” The reason why Fred refused at first was that he hated being arranged and controlled by his parents. But now, when this arranged marriage became more like a game to him, he began finding it quite interesting. “The first thing I want you to do is to take care of my shop today!”

“I’m not stupid, Weasley. What if you run away after I spent the whole day working in your shop? The deal only works after I get the marriage certificate!”

Fred nodded in approval, “Not bad, Malfoy. So I will see you at the Ministry tomorrow at one pm then.”

“Deal! Don’t be late, Weasley!”

The next day, you were waiting at the Ministry at one pm. You repeatedly glanced at the clock and shuffled all the documents in your hands as you paced around.

Fred was late. Did he bail on you? Did he think you were only joking? Did he think you were a joke? Irritation and doubt rushed through your head, but you eventually calmed a bit down when you heard a familiar voice.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we, my lovely bride-to-be?” he teased as he waltzed in.

“Not before we set some ground rules first.” You pulled him to a place where no one could hear you, and you finally took out the contract that you wrote yesterday night.

“Blimey, you actually wrote a contract?”

“Yes, Weasley, and you have to sign it,” you continued, “First, a year after I got a steady job, we will get a divorce.”

“A year?? Why does it have to be so long?”

“I don’t want the Ministry and my employer to think that I’m getting married only because I want to get a job.” You ignored his pout and went on with the list, “Second, if during this year, you actually met someone, you can date them. But you have to be discreet.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Aww, didn’t know you were such a thoughtful person.”

“Third, the fewer people know the truth, the better.”

“Sorry love, but my family already knew, and that’s already a lot of people.”

You glared at him, “You know what I mean!”

Your expression successfully elicited a small laugh from him, making you suspect that he actually enjoyed annoying you.

You rolled your eyes, “That’s all. Anything you want to add?”

Fred shook his head, and you handed him a pen, “Brilliant!”

After signing his name on your contract, he held out his arm, “Shall we?”

You smiled, taking his arm, “We shall.”

“Fred Weasley? And Y/N Malfoy?” The lady at the Ministry looked at you and then looked at Fred several times, and finally asked in a surprised tone.

“That’s us!” Fred answered and wrapped his arm around your shoulders while you both tried to put on the biggest smile.

But her eyes were still scanning you from head to toe, and finally stopped at your fingers, “So, no rings, huh?” She was looking into your eyes as if she just found out the whole marriage was a scam.

You cursed yourself for not remembering something this important, but your smile didn’t disappear, “Yes, Freddie and I aren’t conventional people. We don’t need a piece of metal to prove our love.”

Fred was surprised when he heard your nickname for him, but he didn’t let it show. It’s weird hearing you calling him that, but he had to admit he liked the sound of it. “That’s right, my love.”

You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder to display your affection. You wanted to stay focused so you won’t blow your cover, but hearing that pet name had caused a weird tingle in your stomach.

A few questions later, and before you could fully comprehend the situation, you were officially married to Fred Weasley. Looking at your marriage certificate, you felt surreal. Just in a few days, you and Fred went from classmates who never really talked to each other to a married couple. You two were legally bonded now, and it felt strange, but you had no time to process all these, for you had a more important task.

“Where are you going?” you heard Fred yelling behind you as you started running.

“I’ve got a job interview!”

The interview went well. The interviewer even thanked your husband and his family for their service during the war. You were disgusted by how people’s attitudes could change so drastically simply when you changed your last name. You didn’t fight in the war, but your family took in many muggle-born kids during those dark days, yet nobody cared. All they knew was your last name.

You walked home with mixed feelings running in your head. You knew your life was about to change, but you didn’t know if it was for better or worse. So many things have happened in the past few days, and you were just confused.

But what awaited you at home didn’t resolve any of your doubts. You saw your mum moving suitcases to the door. They were your suitcases.

“Mum, what’s going on?”

“Oh, darling, you’re back! How did the interview go?”

“It went well, I guess. Why are you moving my things out?”

“Oh, Mrs. Weasley and I figured it would look more authentic if you were staying with your husband. You know, just in case someone suspects anything.”

“Mum! But I barely know him!”

“Well, then this is the perfect chance to get to know each other!

So this was how you ended up knocking on the Weasley twins’ door at night, with all your suitcases.

The door cracked open, and Fred’s eyes widened when he saw you and your suitcases at his door.

You smiled sincerely at him, “Hello husband, mind if I stay the night?”

Chapter 2

A/N: this chapter is still setting things up. The next chapter will be longer!

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travellingarmy · 3 years

Text

║Kaeya║A Cold War

Gender-neutral.

Word count: 3k

---

You two had been at it for quite some time now. The war between you and the Cavalry Captain, Kaeya, didn't look like it was going to end any time soon. "Honestly, this has gone for far too long that it's silly at this point," Lisa sighs, watching the two of you from afar. "When are they going to make up?" Jean, who stood beside the librarian, nodded in agreement.

You and Kaeya had crossed paths in front of the fountain in the centre of the city one fateful morning. Snarling and angry at the sight of the male, you turned around with a huff and walked away. Although he was your captain, you two clearly showed a much stronger relationship than commander and knight; you two were friends until the fight two weeks ago.

Kaeya sighs at your retreating figure and walked over to the two, tall females who he had noticed was watching. "Good morning," he greets, a hand raised and a smile on his face. "Kaeya, when are you two going to talk?" Lisa asks, a concerned expression on her face.

He shrugs, pretending not to care of the matter. "Who knows?" he simply say. "Anyway, if that's all you're going to talk about, I'd rather get going with my missions." The Cavalry Captain walks away without letting either of the two say anything. Lisa sighs at the retreating captain. "Both of them really are like couple in quarrel," she states, resting her cheeks on her hands. "I find it very cute." Lisa keeps going on about how you two acted like a couple even though you two obviously weren't. Jean looks over at the witch with dismay and shook her head.

You and Kaeya really showed the citizens of Mondstadt of how you two were at war at each other. Kaeya had started to become a grouch and cold while you were fuming with a fit of anger and it showed in everything you do- from training and wiping out hilichurls to simply eating and easy chores.

"We should get (Y/N) to do something else right now, rather than let them wait for Kaeya's orders," Jean says, knowing that even if Kaeya got a mission for you, you won't even listen to him and go do your own thing. It was also bad for you to linger around the city and throw passionate anger into everything you do as citizens reports how an underling of the Cavalry Captain is scaring away people- be it customers or the people themselves.

You were heading off to the training area to train even more. Although you were kind of sore from training from morning till night yesterday, it didn't keep you from training today so that you can make the blue-haired male take back the words he said to you two weeks ago. "You're not capable in doing these alone!" The words rung repeatedly in your head and made you even more angrier, but mostly saddened.

As much as you appreciate Kaeya's concern of your safety, it can sometimes make you question your worth. What are you good for if you are basically told to sit back and do nothing? That's not why you became a knight in the first place; you wanted to seek thrill while protecting the citizens of Mondstadt and you won't improve if he tells you to slack off.

"(Y/N)," a voice calls from behind you, stopping you on your way to the training grounds. You turned around to see the Acting Grand Master with a couple sheets of paper. You guessed it was most likely missions for you. "Are these tasks?" you ask, no sign of hostility in your tone as you spoke with the blonde.

"Yes, we're short of hands right now and was hoping you could take a look at them," she said and hands you over the papers. It is true that since the Grand Master took most of the knights, there aren't a lot of knights left in the city. But, the tasks given to you can be given to any other knights at any time; Jean just wants to help you clear your mind. "Okay, I will. Thank you!" A flare of determination and excitement reflected your hyped tone.

Jean smiles before waving bye and getting to her own things. You look at the papers in hand, seeing that some would take longer than others, but can still be done all today. Not caring to read the full details, you headed to the locations written and wipe out any and all enemies.

In the end, you did clear them all and felt really proud of yourself that you managed to do all tasks alone. You kind of wanted to boast at Kaeya's face but you were too prideful let that happen.

You were making your way inside the city, now late at night, feeling even more sore than yesterday. Although it was hurting you, it felt rewarding since you haven't done this much moving around under Kaeya's orders.

When you got home, you went straight to your bedroom, rather than eating dinner and washing up. You felt the stinging soreness wash over your body when you were taking of your shirt. "Ack!" You immediately lower your arms as a reaction to the pain. "I should deal with this.." you mumbled. You decided to deal with it tomorrow since you don't have the energy to do so tonight.

The next day, you went to the training field, albeit still sore from two days worth of strained movements. The pain really made you question if you had done anything at all to contribute to the Knights of Favonius; you see the Acting Grand Master put her all into everything and the build up of stress and strain on her, Outrider Amber running around and helping anyone who she comes across and scouting areas around Mondstadt, and even the traveller from some place else is doing something much greater such as helping Dvalin, but what about you? You felt miserable.

You headed to the Knights of Favonius' headquarters to see if Jean could give you some missions for today. You knocked on the door lightly and entered when you hear a quick and muffled 'come in'. "Good morning. Sorry to bother you this early in the morning, Acting Grand Master," you started, closing the door behind you. "I was wondering if you could give me any more tasks?"

Jean looks up from her work and smiled. "Ah, (Y/N), good morning," she says. "I heard you came back late last night. Did I give you too much to work?" You shook your head immensely. "No, no, it's just the trips that made it long."

"I see. Well, I don't have any missions right now.. Why don't you see Kaeya and ask if he has any for you?" Jean says nonchalantly as she discreetly adds, pretending she doesn't know what is going on between you and him. Your head slightly drops at the mention of his name. You didn't want to go to him- not now, at least. "Ah, he probably doesn't have any either. It's fine, I'll do some training on my own," you said and left the headquarters.

When you said that you'll train on your own, you mean to go search for some dangers that will help you improve. You still are feeling sore all over but dismiss it. You did, however, applied some essential oil to help relieve your muscle pain and thought that that alone would help. You headed out of the city's wall and looked for some tough opponents.

Kaeya's eyes narrowed as he saw you leaving through the gates, a worrisome feeling in his guts, but he wasn't going to let that feeling in the pit of his stomach get to him. He felt that he was in the right and that you were too stubborn. Your stubbornness and prideful personality made him really irritated, but he felt sad that you two didn't get to chat like before.

He shrugs his shoulders and went to bother anyone who he sees- most likely Diluc, who was at Angel's Share at the moment.

Nightfall started to set in and you hadn't returned- no sightings of you ever walking around the streets since thos morning. Kaeya wasn't aware of this since he thought you were home like he had always expected of you. It wasn't until the next day when he was summoned to the headquarters by Jean that he knew of your absence since yesterday. "Hey, what did you call me for?" Kaeya says, his usual, playful smirk on his face. However, that fell when he saw Jean and Lisa's expression and feel the atmosphere of the room. "What is it now?" His stomach started to churn in an awful feeling and only one thing was on his mind- you.

"It's about (Y/N)," Jean starts off, making Kaeya starting to feel even worse. "A ruin guard has been found awoken near the Thousand Wind Temple by someone in the Adventurers Guild and no one has seen (Y/N) since yesterday morning. I have a feeling that they are the one who woken it up."

Upon hearing the news, he clenches his fists and his jaws tightened, a shadowed cast over his face as he narrowed his eyes. But, "What does this have to do with me?" he asks coldly. Lisa and Jean looks over at each other with a concerned expression. "Kaeya--" Lisa started off but was immediately caught of by the male.

"They said that they can handle anything so shouldn't you two put some faith in them as well?" he said, raising his voice in anger, recalling what you said to him two weeks ago. "Kaeya, I am aware of the fight you two had but this has honestly gone for far too long that it's silly," Jean says in a calm tone. "Isn't the reason why you don't allow them on dangerous missions is because you care about them?" This hit Kaeya and he hang his head low. It was true that he cares about you deeply and doesn't show the same feeling to anybody else but you.

He imagined scenarios of situations you could be in right now and it made that feeling inside him snap. He turns around and storms off, shutting the door with a boom.

Praying. He was praying to the Archons of your safety as he feels something went trailing down his face from his eyes. It was blurring his vision but he ignores them, running through the darken day.

When he reached to the location of the sightings, he found the ruin guard, awake and walking, but no signs of you. He quickly disposed of the ruin guard and searched the area for you or anything that was on you that dropped that might give him some hope.

A few metres away, there your body lie on the cold ground. "(Y/N)!" Kaeya runs over to your side and felt his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. You were all bruised up along with scratches and blood that was either still running from open wounds or had already dried up. Your eyes were closed and he worried for the worse. Rushing to kneel beside you, heb helped you sit up against a rock, putting his hands under your chin to feel for a pulse. To his relief, he found it beating and pulled your body into his chest, one hand behind your head as the other wrapped around your shoulders. "(Y/N)," he whispers your name, his heart feeling lighter.

Your eyes slowly opens from the sudden warmth that engulfed you. "Nngh!" The moment your mind became conscious, the pain from the battle and the soreness from training before suddenly rushed all over your body. "Ack!"

Kaeya immediately pulls away from you, his face full of worry. "(Y/N), are you okay?" he asks. You look at Kaeya with surprise. "Why.. Are you here?" There was no anger in your tone as you were too exhausted. "I came looking for you, dummy. Now, let me take you back so ease up." You gave a quick nod and closed your eyes, falling into another sleep. Making sure you were asleep, he stood up with you in his arms and made his way back inside the city.

He went to see Barbara in the cathedral so that she could heal you. "My, they're badly injured! Hurry, bring them here," she exclaims with a hand over her mouth at the sight of your badly figure and gestures towards the infirmary. Kaeya listened and places you on one of the beds inside and let her do her thing.

She left as soon as she healed any and all visible, major wounds. Kaeya sits down on the wooden chair beside the bed and waits for you to wake up. You were asleep all throughout the day and only woken up the next morning.

You felt something at the side of you and you slowly turned your head but hissed at the sudden pain, closing your eyes in reaction. Although it lessened thanks to Barbara, the pain didn't fully go away.

Once it subsided, you open your eyes to see whatever was beside you. To your surprise, it was Kaeya. His arms were crossed on top of the bed and rested his head on top of it, sleeping with his lips slightly parted. Your heart warmed and remembered the little scene when he hugged your bruised body.

It looked like he slept late and didn't even bother to comb his hair- meaning to say, he didn't go home and return early in the morning. In that moment, you let your pride down as well as forgave him for what he said two weeks ago. You weakly reached your arms out and tucked a strand of his unkempt hair behind his ear.

You suddenly remembered the reason why you two fought in the first place- you went out to a dungeon, alone, on a mission that you secretly accepted without the help of the Cavalry Captain. It was a simple wiping out of a hilichurl camp but there was no knowledge of an abyss image nearby since it wasn't written on the report.

When Kaeya received word you left on a mission, he was upset and immediately left to find you. He found you soon enough, wiping out hilichurls. His eyes looked off to behind you and see a cryo abyss mage. "(Y/N)!" he warned. You turned to look at him and that's when the abyss image shot an ice crystal. It hit your left arm and you roared in pain. Kaeya quickly made due of the image and quickly rushed to check your wound.

"What were you thinking- going out on a mission alone!?" he angrily asked, gripping your upper arm. "Kaeya, you're hurting me!" you hissed.

"I told you time and time again that you should tell me when you're going out!" he said, raising his voice. "I was doing just--"

"Just fine!? You were hit by an abyss mage, goddamit!"

"It's just a scratch--" He cuts you off again, his tone now booming with anger. "Yeah, it's just a scratch, but what about the next time you go out alone? You could be heavily wounded or even worse!" He wasn't listening to a word you said and the grip on you looked like it wasn't loosening anytime soon.

"Kaeya, would you just listen to me!?" you shouted back in the same volume and tone as his. "I am more than capable as a knight to wipe a few hilichurls and an abyss mage!"

His anger didn't subside but he let's go of your arms, head down as a shadow casted over his face. "So, that's how this is going to be, huh? Alright, then I'll leave you be. See if I care." The words broke your heart. Kaeya turned around and left you there with your head down. That was the last time you guys talked to each other before the cold war.

He groans at the touch, making your heart flutter. Then, you see his visible eyelids open slowly, revealing his unique, blue eyes. He straightened up in his seat with a loud yawn before looking over at you. "(Y/N)..!" he says your name, his visible eye showing surprise.

"Good morning," you weakly greet, a gentle smile tugging your lips. A few short seconds passed before he quickly draws you into an intoxicating embrace. You returned the hug as you bury your smiling face into the crook of his neck. "You dummy. Why did you go out and pick a fight with a ruin guard?" he whispers, deepening the hug.

"I wanted you to know that you can depend on me.." you answer, tears starting to form. "I'm not a child that needs protecting; I'm a knight so please look at me as you would to any other knights." Kaeya pulls back and stare into your eyes. "I'm afraid I can't do that," he said, his eyes stern and serious. "What--"

"Because.. You're different," he cuts you off. You look at him with questioning eyes. "I can't bring myself to not care for you nor can I bring myself to treat you like any other subordinates of mine because I love you." The three words that you never thought you'd hear from the Cavalry Captain came out so easily- it's as if he wanted to say it for so long. "I can't bear to lose you, (Y/N). And just seeing you hurt hurts me more than you realize."

"I.." You looked down on your blanket. "I'm sorry that I made you worried.. I didn't know that's how you felt."

"No, I'm sorry. I should have really told you before you got into anymore danger," he said. You two smiled and pulled you back to a loving embrace. Then, "I love you too, Kaeya."

---

#kaeya x reader #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya oneshots #genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #genshin #genshin kaeya #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact kaeya x reader #genshin kaeya x reader #genshin oneshot #oneshots #gender neutral #genshin x gender neutral reader

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happyandticklish · 3 years

Text

Tickletober Day Five - Tickle Hug

Notes: This ended up being a biiiit longer than I meant it to be, but oh well. I said 1,000 words at the maximum for these because I needed to focus on other writing as well, but I have no self control and they keep ending up longer on accident.

Summary: Surprises are hard when your boyfriend’s a superhero.

Caleb had memorized a variety of different feelings from Adam. He knew when he was frustrated, and how to distinguish whether he was frustrated over a math problem or his own personal dilemma. He knew the exact feeling Adam got when he needed a hug but was too afraid to ask. He could recognize Adam’s pain and suffering like the back of his hand, and though Caleb couldn’t always figure out what he needed in that moment, he was getting better at it. He also knew what it was like when Adam was bursting with joy, and it was one of his favorites to experience, like sparks firing off in his brain.

Sometimes, though, he would experience new feelings, and whenever he did he had to add them to the quickly growing list of them he had built in his head. That day he felt a very particular feeling from Adam, a mischievous spark so present that he didn’t even have to turn around and see Adam to know it was him.

Caleb could also tell the mischief was directed at him, which made him instantly tense. By then it was too late, however, as fingers suddenly slid under his shirt, blunt nails scribbling across his skin and surprising a snort out of him.

“Ahahadam!” he protested, curling in on himself. “W-Whahat are y-you dohoing?”

“You are ticklish,” Adam exclaimed, a note of triumph in his voice. “Alice told me you were, but I wanted to see it for myself.”

Alice. Of course. One of the downfalls of introducing Adam to his family was the unexpected friendship that had resulted between his boyfriend and his sister. At first Caleb had been relieved by it, until he realized Adam was benefitting from the friendship by discovering all the best ways to mess with Caleb.

“Ohohof cohohourse Ihihi a-aham!” Caleb’s knees were growing weak, his ability to support himself quickly failing. He batted weakly at Adam’s hands, his protests coming out far gigglier than he intended them too. “Cuhuhut ihihit ohohout!”

“Okay, okay.” Adam pulled his hands away, sidling around to face him with a cheeky smile. Caleb could feel the giddy pride radiating off him, and he rolled his eyes, feeling a reluctant smile slide onto his face in response.

“That was uncalled for,” Caleb said, pointing accusingly at him. “You are never allowed to talk to my sister about me again. I’m banning it. No more Alice time for you.”

“But I like Alice,” Adam protested, leaning in to meet Caleb’s brief kiss before the latter grabbed the kettle off the stove. “She’s funny. Besides, you tickle me all the time.”

“Yes, but that’s different. You like it when I tickle you,” Caleb pointed out, turning on the sink and filling the kettle. He could feel the embarrassment from the other at his words, curling and squirming in his stomach, but it was a good kind, the kind that let Caleb knew he didn’t really mind it.

Adam blushed, biting his lip nervously as he suddenly became very interested in the hem of his hoodie. “Maybe so. But still. I think some revenge is in order.”

“For something you enjoy?” Caleb asked, glancing back with a wry grin.

“I’m just saying,” Adam persisted, stubborn till the end. He paused for a moment, giving the other a considering look. “Do you not like it? Being tickled, that is?”

Caleb shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t hate it. It can be pretty intense though. But I suppose I don’t mind it, really, if it’s with someone I know and trust.”

“Like me,” Adam suggested.

Now it was Caleb’s turn to be embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess. Like you.”

Adam was silent behind him, but Caleb could practically sense the gears in his brain turning. Not only that, but a combination of determination and excitement, that Caleb had come to recognize by now as the beginnings of a new project, was practically glowing off of him. Often it would come about during class or when he was brainstorming during an essay assignment while Caleb sat on his phone nearby. This time however, it was directed towards Caleb.

The next day, he discovered the meaning behind it. Caleb was sitting on the couch, a book held in his hands that he was supposed to be reading for English. He skimmed the pages dutifully, words flying in one ear and out the other. He didn’t understand why they had to read Shakespeare anyway. By the time he got through the language, he had completely lost his place in the plot.

His thoughts were distracted suddenly when he heard Adam come in the room. No, not heard. Felt. There were no footsteps signaling his presence, yet Caleb could sense the familiar emotions, already slotting comfortably into place against his own. Super familiar, actually. It was the same as yesterday, playful anticipation reaching out eagerly. And suddenly, Caleb realized his game.

He jerked forward just in time, so that Adam fell into the back of the couch in surprise, his fingers curled in midair. He straightened up quickly, tugging his shirt down and fixing the other with a glare. “What the hell? I was being so quiet!”

“Emotions boy, remember?” Caleb offered him a sheepish smile. “Sorry for ruining your revenge.”

Adam groaned, letting his face fall into his hands. “Dammit. I forgot you had literal superpowers. How am I supposed to sneak up on you when you’re basically a human metal detector for emotions?”

Caleb stood up, coming around and patting him on the shoulder. “I have faith in you. You always figure things out in the end.”

“I can’t help but feel you’re condescending to me,” Adam muttered, side-eying him though his fingers.

“I will neither confirm nor deny.” Caleb kissed the side of his head, reaching around and retrieving his book. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go attempt to figure out what the hell a ‘bisson rheum’ is.”

For the next week, the days followed in much the same way. Adam coming up with strange and inventive ways to surprise him, and Caleb dodging him each and every time. Caleb considered just letting Adam think he had won and giving in, but he had a feeling the other would want his victory to be real.

Their little game ended on a Saturday evening, with Caleb standing outside Adam’s door as he waited for him to get ready for their date. It was late September at the time, and he could feel the chill creeping in underneath his jacket as the seconds ticked by. They had planned to meet for a quick coffee at their usual place—not that it was usually a “quick” coffee with them.

The door opened with a bang, flinging forward as Adam came rushing out of it. He grinned when he saw Caleb, who had taken several steps back to avoid the path of the door, and threw his arms around him suddenly.

“Oh!” Caleb exclaimed, surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “Hey. You’re energetic today. What’s the occas—ah! Hehehey!”

He giggled as cold fingers dug suddenly into his sides, squeezing and scribbling over the skin. “A-Ahahadam!” He tried to squirm away, but found himself held in place by Adam’s arms, the hug serving as an excellent trap for the unexpected tickling. “Shit! Wahahait!”

“I got you,” Adam proclaimed, leaning back a little to smirk at him. “I figured out the perfect way to catch you off guard.”

Caleb had to admit he was right. By the time he had even registered Adam’s feelings, it was already too late. His laughter rose several octaves as Adam moved to his ribs next, scratching against them in a way that was unfairly ticklish. He hugged the other tighter, unsure what else to do in the face of the tickling. “Ahahahahadam!”

“Caleb.”

“Ihihihit tihihihickles!”

“Well I should hope so. I am tickling you, after all.”

Adam tickled him for another minute, leaving the other a gasping, giggling mess in his arms. He didn’t want to go too far, however, and so finally he relented, allowing his hands to rest at his lower back. “I think it’s safe to say I won.”

Caleb didn’t answer for a moment, regaining his breath from the sudden fit of laughter. When he did, his cheeks were flushed and there was a leftover grin on his face, which quickly transformed into a confident smirk. “I think you’re forgetting something here.”

“Oh?” Adam raised an eyebrow. “And just what is that?”

“You’re ticklish too.”

The two were understandably late to their date, but as Caleb held Adam’s hand afterwards, basking in the high of Adam’s happiness, he decided it was worth it.

#tickle fic #the bright sessions #caladam #tickletober #tickletober2021 #caleb michaels #adam hayes #tbs #fanfiction #tickling #drabble

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zukoszukhoes · 4 years

Text

Don’t Speak- Part 2

// Zuko x reader soulmate au

// part 1 here

// part 3 here

//warnings: none

You slipped your cuff off and your own words came to light. The words on yours and Zuko’s wrists began to turn golden from the inside, shining brighter and brighter until the words disappeared from your wrists in a blaze of light, confirming the worst.

You and Prince Zuko really were soulmates.

Except, after seeing what he was capable of, you knew you’d never love him.

“Lotty,” you started quietly, keeping your eyes trained on Zuko. “There’s a sack of gold coins hidden in the back of my dresser. Go get it and leave this place as quickly as you can.”

“But, (Y/N)-”

“Do it. Now.”

Without another word, Lotty scurried from the clearing, leaving you and the prince alone. For a minute, the two of you just stared at each other, Zuko’s gaze full of shock.

“You know,” you started. “It makes me wonder what kind of person I am if I have you as my soulmate.”

Zuko stumbled backwards, like the words were a literal blow to his chest. “I’m- I’m sorry! I didn’t know-”

You scoffed. “If you had known, would it have changed anything? Would you have let her go?”

Zuko stayed silent.

“That’s what I thought.” You sneered, turning away. “You’re just as cruel as the rest of your family.”

When you turned back around, Zuko was gone.

That night, dinner was... tense, to say the least.

“I apologize that dinner was so late, Prince Zuko. We haven’t been able to find our head maid.” Your mother said.

At the mention of Lotty, you glared at Zuko.

Zuko swallowed uncomfortably, shooting you a glance. “Yes, um, that is unfortunate.” It seemed Zuko would keep your secret- for now.

“If only it could have been avoided,” you said suddenly, glaring daggers at Zuko. Your parents raised their eyebrows in surprise, seeing that you were finally speaking to the prince, who looked flushed and extremely uncomfortable. Your father shot you a look and quickly changed the subject.

“I hope you’ve had a pleasant stay so far. I saw you were exploring the gardens earlier. I’m afraid I have no talent with gardening; I’m lucky to have such a gifted wife.” You father remarked, smiling at your mother.

“They are very beautiful.” Zuko said softly.

Your mother blushed with pride. “I’ve had lots of help. (Y/N) is a very proficient gardener as well. Perhaps they could continue gardening at the palace.”

You choked on your food in surprise. “Mother!” Your mother raised an eyebrow, as if, now that you and the prince were speaking, your engagement was practically guaranteed. She looked to Zuko, no doubt expecting some a look of agreement, but was met with his flushed face and uncomfortable silence.

Your father cleared his throat. “How about dessert?”

You stood up from the table suddenly. “I’m sorry, I think I’m still sick from yesterday. If you don’t mind, I’ll retire early to my room.” And before your parents could object, you scurried from the room as fast as you could.

“Please excuse (Y/N)... they can be very headstrong.” You heard your mother say weakly as you walked out. You stopped in the door, turning around briefly and catching Zuko’s molten gaze.

His eyes glittered with regret. “I know.” He said quietly.

~~~

Sitting in the quiet light of a flickering candle, a book laid flat before you, you tried to calm down. Thinking about Zuko and what he had done to Lotty still made you seethe with anger. Taking deep breaths, you thought of peaceful memories: taking walks on the beach with your friends, tending to the garden with your mother, going into town with Lotty-

You smacked your book shut with a bang. Fresh anger reignited in your chest at the thought of Lotty, knowing she was gone- at the hands of the prince, no less. Moving to the window, you took in a full breath of the clear night air, letting your feelings ebb away with each cycle of air that filled your lungs.

Suddenly, a knock came at the door.

A sigh escaped your lips. It was probably your mother there to ask you about Zuko- and that was the last thing you wanted to talk about. “Go away, mother. I’m not feeling well.” You called.

“It’s actually me. Can I come in?” Zuko’s hopeful voice answered.

You groaned and trudged over to the door, yanking it open with an unnecessary amount of force. Zuko stood on the other side. “What do you want?” You growled.

“I came to talk to you. I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier.”

You scoffed. “Sure you do. Now, if you’ll excuse me-“ you went to close the door, but Zuko pushed against it, staring down at you with yearning.

“Please,” he whispered, his face inches from yours. “At least let me explain.”

Your face burned at the feel of Zuko so near. He was so close you felt as if his warmth was hugging you, pulling you into him and hypnotizing you into never leaving. You looked away. Snap out of it! You yelled at yourself. Don’t forget what he’s done. Who he is.

But yet... his face seemed so genuine...

You stepped back from the door and crossed your arms. “You have five minutes.”

Zuko smiled briefly and nodded, stepping into the room. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “First off, I’m sorry that you saw me act the way I did earlier. What you saw wasn’t me. I mean, it was, but not the real me- anyways...” He took a deep breath, looking up to capture your gaze. For a moment, he stared into your eyes, like he could convey everything he was trying to say with a look. You glared and turned away, refusing to feel any sympathy for him.

“I think you know how the Fire Nation corrupts people,” Zuko started. “It takes good people and fills them with hatred towards the rest of the world. I’ve seen it firsthand, when I was banished. We’ve always been taught that it’s the Fire Nations’ job to share its success with the world, to help the nations less fortunate than itself. But the rest of the world doesn’t see us as saviors; they see us as killers.” Zuko glanced up briefly. “In the royal family, we were taught that to the extreme. After all, it would be my job one day to continue my ancestors’ legacy- to take over the world and finish the mission they started. When I was tasked with capturing the Avatar, I saw it as just one more accomplishment to add to my legacy as Fire Lord. I thought that it would make me honorable- in the eyes of my father, my family, my nation. I thought it would make me worthy to be Fire Lord.”

You felt your arms loosen slightly, a drop of pity filling your heart alongside anger.

“When I was accepted back to the Fire Nation, I thought I’d finally be happy. I had everything I wanted! My father was proud of me. I should have been happy. But I wasn’t. I was- and am- angrier than ever and I don’t know why!” His voice rose in pitch until he was yelling, fists clenched by his side. He looked up, catching your apprehensive expression, and shuddered with guilt. “I didn’t mean to do what I did today. I really didn’t. But being here- in the Fire Nation again- it’s turned me into a person I don’t recognize.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Zuko looked up at you, lips parted in surprise. You wrapped your arms around your torso, averting your gaze so he wouldn’t see the pity in your eyes. “I understand how you feel. Sometimes things get so twisted here that you don’t know what’s real anymore.”

Zuko nodded silently. You took a deep breath, hating yourself for not hating Zuko, and continued. “You know, I had a brother.”

Zuko’s eyes widened. Your eyes fluttered close, the familiar wave of sorrow washing over you at your brother’s memory. “Jin-Yan. He was five years older than me. Before he-“ you stopped, taking another breath to quell the tremor in your voice. “Before he died, I believed everything the Fire Nation taught us. I thought that we were the greatest nation in the world. But when my brother turned 18, he was drafted to go to war. We were all so proud.” You shook your head. “Six months after he left, he came home for the Winter Solstice celebration and told me everything. About the thousands of people dying because of the Fire Nation. How whole cities are being burned to the ground. I’d heard stories growing up, but I’d never believed them until he told me. He said that the war wasn’t bringing prosperity to the world like we were taught; it was bringing destruction.”

“What happened to him?” Zuko asked softly, a hint of fear in his voice.

Hatred hardened the lines of your face. “They asked him to kill an innocent child, just because she was an earth bender. He refused. They were going to force him to do it anyways, so he deserted. The general caught him in less than an hour. That very same night, Jin-Yan was executed for treason.” A single angry, hot tear trickled down your cheek.

Suddenly, Zuko was beside you, a warm hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” He said softly.

You ripped your shoulder out of his grasp and turned away. “Don’t act like you’re sorry when we both know you don’t mean it. Just this morning you were ready to take another member of my family to her execution. You’re no better than the general.”

“I know,” he whispered.

You whipped around to him, heart stammering. You don’t what you’d expected from him, but you certainly hadn’t expected him to agree with you.

“I meant it when I said I was sorry, (Y/N). What I did today was wrong. I can only promise you that I’m trying to be better, and ask for your forgiveness.” Zuko vowed, golden eyes boring into yours.

You turned away so you wouldn’t have to face the sincerity in his gaze. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut to block out the voices telling you to forgive him, telling you that he was genuine. But then you remembered Jin-Yan, his voice whispering in your mind not to trust anything or anyone in the Fire Nation, and your willingness to forgive disappeared.

“I can’t.” You whispered, turning to meet his gaze again.

Zuko simply nodded. “I understand.”

You meant it. You didn’t forgive him. But he was so close, his scent a delicious drug as it filled your nostrils, that your body leaned into him of its own accord. Zuko glanced down to your lips, breath hitching quietly, and placed a tentative hand on your jaw as he leaned in-

“(Y/N), darling, are you awake? I want to speak with you.” Your mother’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. Instantly Zuko and you sprang apart, clearing your throats uncomfortably and doing your best to hide your twin blushes.

“I-I’m awake. Can you come back later, please?” You called back to your mother, your voice weak.

“(Y/N), you can’t ignore me fore-“ your mother pushed open the door and stopped in her tracks when she saw Zuko. Her mouth dropped open. “Prince Zuko!”

Zuko’s face blushed to match his robes as he bowed deeply. “Mrs. (L/N). If you and (Y/N) need to talk, I was just about to leave-“

“There’s no need for that, I’ll just come back some other time-“

“Mother!” You hissed, giving her a look.

Your mother smiled sheepishly. “I’ll leave you two alone. Goodnight, (Y/N). Prince Zuko.” She curtsied to Zuko and exited quietly.

You groaned and collapsed into the closest chair, hands shielding your face from having to meet Zuko’s gaze. To your surprise, however, Zuko started to chuckle.

“What?!” You cried, looking up from your hands. Zuko was smiling down at you like you were the most precious thing in the universe. Seeing his grin, you swore your heart skipped a beat.

“Your family. They’re nice.”

You buried your face in your hands again. “They’re embarrassing. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s kind of... nice, I guess, to see a normal family.”

You looked up once more. “What do you mean?”

Zuko glanced at you then looked away, his gaiety disappearing. “Nothing. Just forget it.”

Crossing your arms, you rose and gave Zuko a pointed look. “It’s not nothing. Tell me the truth.”

Zuko glanced at you again, his cheeks reddening even deeper. “My mother is dead. Or at least, I think she is. And my father...” he trailed off. He didn’t need to explain for you to understand. The Firelord was a cruel and ruthless ruler; you couldn’t imagine having him as a father.

“I’m sorry.” You said, this time you putting your hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Except Zuko didn’t push you away.

“It’s getting late.” He finally said after a moment of silence.

You nodded and pulled away, your hand strangely cold after being in contact with his warm skin. “Yeah. I should probably go to sleep.”

“Probably. “He moved to the door to leave, but before he could go, you caught him by the arm.

“Zuko-“ you started. He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean what I said. About you being cruel.”

Surprise pushed Zuko’s eyebrows upwards, but his shock quickly melted into warmth. “Thank you.”

Your hand trailed off of his arm. “Goodnight, Zuko.” You whispered. He smiled faintly, eyes glittering, and turned down the hall. You watched his figure recede into the blackness of night, shivering as the last glimpse of his amber eyes disappeared into the dark.

When he was finally gone, you crawled into your bed to sleep, but you knew you would be awake all night. Your heart was thumping wildly and you were jittery, like you’d been electrified. A sense of dread settled deep inside of you. Every moment you were with Zuko, your hatred sifted away like grains of sand on a desert dune. Your heart kept betraying you; beating too fast and making you do stupid things like almost kiss him. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but like him.

You glared at the wall, pushing your feelings deep down into your stomach. Even if he was your soulmate, he was still destined to be Firelord- which meant that one day, he would continue the era of killing and destruction his ancestors had brought down on the globe. His apology was sincere, but it was no guarantee that he was the person he claimed he was trying to be. You’d simply have to try harder not to like him; because, soulmates or not, you could never stand by someone who would only bring evil to the world.

~~~

“Get up.” A voice snapped you out of your dreams. “Get up!” The voice yanked your covers off of you.

“What- mother!” You cried incredulously, launching upwards with the sudden cold. “I’m in my night-wear!”

“Oh, hush. Now, get dressed, and quickly.”

“Why?” You frowned, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Because,” your mother said, throwing you a ceremonial robe. “The Fire Lord has requested your presence at the palace.”

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catzula · 4 years

Text

always there to help

Synopsis: You suck at math, and who could be better suited for the job to help you, other than your brother's best friend, the born genius, Bakugou?

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x (Kirishima's sister)Reader

Warnings: Swearing, maybe some bad writing

A/N: So, I'm back! I'm sorry I haven't been writing anything lately, I just didn’t like anything I wrote, so, sorry about that. This one might seem a little all over the place too lol, but it’s because I inteded it to be a small drabble. but accidentally made it a 5.1k fic. So, it might not be one f my better works, but I had a lot of fun writing it!

BY THE WAY, 100 followers guys! Thank you so much for that!

You were working on your homework when you heard the doorbell. You sighed deeply, standing up and going to the door, not expecting to see your brother and his friend group to be standing on the other side.

One specific friend caught your eye, his spiky, ash blonde hair hard to miss. You could feel your heartbeat rising almost instantly, cheeks now a bit warmer than before. You wished you had worn something else, anything but pajama shorts and an oversize shirt, maybe combed your hair and wore perfume or something, but how could you know your brother was going to bring his friends home?

Okay, maybe you should have known since they were over almost every day.

But since there was nothing you could do now to change the situation, you just smiled, inviting them in -you noticed how Bakugou hadn't even glanced your way once, and though this wasn't different then always, it proceed to hurt and disappoint you every time. It's not like you were expecting for him to have feelings for you or something, but at least noticing you were there would be nice for a change.

Your brother was the last to enter, hugging you so tightly that you couldn't breathe for a few seconds, squirming between his arms. "Eiji lemme go!" You screamed, though your voice muffled by his tight hold.

"Sorry, just missed you." He told you, letting you free. A cheeky, innocent grin was on his face, the one he knew that made you soft. You answered by a "Hmph," turning to his friends, who were already in the living room, doing their things. Mina was the first to notice you when you entered the room, the cutest smile on her face. "Oh, hey Y/N!" She caught you by the wrist, pulling you to the couch to sit with her. Of course, Bakugou was right next to you.

Feeling self-conscious -when was the last time you had a shower? Yesterday? You could only pray you smelled nice- you scooted a bit more to Mina, putting some distance between Bakugou and you, though it pained you to do so since he smelled like caramel. Honestly, why did he smell this good? It only caused your thoughts to be fuzzier, and for you to be even more excited around him.

Though he seemed to have noticed your shift towards Mina since he sent a small glance your way, a 'tch' sound coming out of his lips, heating your cheeks.

"Hi, Mina-san." You mumbled, trying to forget the boy -your big brother's best friend- sitting next to you. "Oh, y/n-chan, I told you many times, you can just call me Mina! We only have a year between us anyway." You nodded, though still feeling a bit uneasy. “Sure.”

"I- I should go now, I have to finish my math homework." You told them with an apologetic smile, Mina and Kaminari pouting almost immediately. "Oh, come on, sit with us for a bit," Denki protested, his eyes wandering on your bare legs for a second, earning a deadly glare from your brother and a nudge from Sero.

"What homework?" Your brother asked you, coming closer to you to block Denki's view. "Oh, you know, the one I was doing this morning." You shrugged, you've been working on the same sheet of paper practically the whole day, but you just didn't know the subject even a little bit, staring at the paper without knowing nothing didn't help much.

"Wait, you still didn't finish that? I thought I helped you yesterday." He pouted. Yes, he did try to help you, but you were sure he also had no idea how to do it, and he had just repeated the question to you again and again, until you had said, "Ah, I understand it now! Thank you, brother," without being able to do anything. You knew he meant good, but it still didn't change the fact that your brother was as clueless as you were.

"I-" You had started to say something before a deeper voice intruded yours. "Oi, shitty-hair, you know you suck at math, how do you think you could even help her?"

Your eyes shifted to Bakugou -you couldn't help but giggle at the nickname he had for your brother, oh, you had to remember that one- he had an annoyed look in his ruby eyes, his eyes not leaving your brother once. "Well, I-" Eiji had started to talk, his eyes widening slightly after, understanding what Bakugou meant. "Oh, you should have told me!"

You shrugged. "Well, you just looked so happy finally being able to help me with something, I didn't want to make you feel bad."

Oh no, did that come out wrong? You were about to apologize when your brother pulled you in a hug once again. "Oh my god- lemme go!"

***

"So -uhh- if you do it this way, you can, maybe?.. No, okay, I got it, so if you add this to... Nope, that's wrong- umm, oh, how about-"

Mina bit the back of the pencil you had given her, fully concentrated on the papers in front of her. "Oh move over, I can help her!" Denki told her as he pushed Mina aside.

"You?" She told him in disbelief, "Don't make me laugh, you're even worse than I am!"

"No, I'm not!" The blonde boy answered, pulling the sheet of paper. "Yes, you are," Sero also joined the fight, pushing himself between the two. "Oh, you shut up, you're even worse than him!" Mina pushed Sero with all her might, panting.

"Umm, what is happening?" You asked your red-headed brother, watching them with a smile and clearly enjoying the show. "Oh, don't worry, this happens all the time." He answered, patting you on the back, giggling when Mina pulled Denki's hair, making the poor boy scream.

Oh, that makes it all better then.

"Oi, dumbasses, shut the fuck up before I do it." You jumped in surprise when you heard Bakugou screaming right behind you, and surprisingly, three of the grown-ass people that were just wrestling on the floor froze.

"Sorry, Baku." Mina was the first to stand up, fixing her disheveled clothes and running a finger through her soft-looking hair. Sero and Kaminari struggled for a second or two more, but one look from Bakugou and they were up on their feet too.

"Well, thanks I guess." You told the people who literally just fought each other to help you, though instead of them, it was Bakugou who answered you. "Whatever, you shouldn't be asking these idiots anyway."

You weren't sure what to say since the gratitude wasn't intended for him, but you smiled awkwardly. "Guess I'll have to ask someone tomorrow."

"Oh, Baku, can't you help her? You always help us and you're the smartest." Eiji perked his head with the idea that suddenly came to his mind.

"Damn right I am!" Bakugou answered without missing a beat, though he realized his mistake almost instantly. "Oh, that's great, then, you can help her." Mina cheered, clapping her hands with a wicked grin on her face, eyeing both you and the now furious looking boy. Bakugou would have said no immediately, but everyone in the room -even you- knew his pride wouldn't let him.

"For fucks sake," he muttered, his hand massaging his temples. "Give me that stupid fucking paper."

***

"Oh, okay, that makes much more sense!" You told him, even though you still had no idea how he did it, but you tried your best to hide the confusion in your face, not wanting to seem dumb in front of him. But it took one look and his burrows furrowed, lips curling into a snarl.

"If you're just acting like you understood I'll fucking-" A fake cough came from your brother's way, making Bakugou growl. "I'll explain it to you again and again until you understand it." He finished his sentence, making both you and Eiji grin.

"So what didn't you understand?"

Good question.

"I- uh... anything?" You could feel your face heating as you answered, causing him to grimace. "Oh my fucking God." He muttered, pinching his nose bridge with annoyance.

"LOOK-" Oh, he was pissed. "THE QUESTION IS TELLING YOU TO DO THIS, SO YOU JUST FUCKING ADD THIS TO THAT, AND-" His spiky hair looked like it was ruffling up when he got angry, like an angry bird, the thought making you giggle. As he heard your giggle he stopped screaming, and seeing him so quiet was somehow scarier than him shouting.

"What the fuck is so funny?" He asked gruffly, though his crimson eyes weren't as angry as they were before. "You know it doesn't help when you just scream everything at me, right?" You giggled again because he looked really confused.

"Okay, look." He sighed, "see this? This actually just means you should do this." His pencil moved on the paper, his writing surprisingly neat and pretty- especially for a boy as impatient and angry like him. "Oi, you listening?" He pointed the pencil to you when he noticed you weren't looking at the paper, but at him.

"Oh- yeah, I'm listening." You answered, looking at what he recently wrote and trying to understand what he probably said. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't question it further. "Good."

"As I just said," he stated -making you grin since he probably noticed you weren't, in fact, listening to him, "you should do it like this and that's the answer."

You couldn't understand why, but suddenly what he was talking about seemed to make so much sense. "Oh my god." Your eyes widened, looking at the sheet of paper, you pulled the pencil he was holding without thinking much on it, quickly writing down what was on your mind before you forgot.

After you finished writing, you turned your gaze to the boy that was sitting right next to you, though he concealed the amazed look he had sent you almost immediately. "Is that... right?" You asked him, feeling anxious, if it was wrong, you probably would look like an idiot.

"Yeah," he muttered, quickly glancing your way and noticing the smile on your face. "Fucking finally." He added, trying to get you to stop from smiling since he couldn't stop thinking about how pretty it was, though to his surprise you only smiled brighter. He could feel his heartbeat picking up, not sure why. Were you always this pretty? Smiled so softly, that made him feel all warm? Looked at him like this, like he was the most amazing person you've had seen?

For him, you have always been the sister of his best friend. He hadn't the slightest interest on you, though he could feel that was changing, the thought terrifying him. No, you were only and only Kirishima's sister, no one else.

***

"Hey, Bakugou-Kun." Bakugou was taking his jacket off as he entered the house, his caramel scent making you dizzy.

"Hey, idiot." He answered without thinking, the rude nickname slipping from his lips, he pressed them together instantly as if he could un-say it. He looked at you with slightly widened eyes, expecting you to be sad, or get mad at him, though he could have never thought you would giggle instead.

"Yeah," you told him smiling, "guess I deserve that."

"No." A sudden answer came his way, causing you to be the one shocked this time. "I- I didn't mean it that way..." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking very uncomfortable. "I just-"

"It's okay!" You told him, finally ending his misery. "I know you didn't say it to be mean."

Now, that was a first.

"Yeah, whatever." He muttered, entering the room, though regretting it immediately, was that rude? Maybe he shouldn't have stormed out? Did you think he was rude? Mean? An asshole?

He had no idea you were only happy because, for the first time, he had stopped to talk with you instead of ignoring you altogether.

You entered the room, noticing the rest was there too, and you wondered when they even entered the house. "Hey, Y/N!" Denki beamed, though noticing the look Eiji sent him, he quickly corrected himself. "-chan. Y/N-chan."

"Hey, Kaminari-Kun." You answered, making him pout. "Oh come on, you can just call me Denki!" A small glance was sent your brothers way, "Denki-Kun. You can call me Denki-Kun." He corrected, smiling widely.

"Oh, okay." You told him. "Would you like something to drink, Denki-Kun?" You asked, making him grin wickedly. "She's just too cute!" He whisper-yelled, nudging Sero. "Anyone? I can make tea."

"Oh, just sit with us instead!" Mina told you and you did as she said, knowing she would force you anyway. Once again, you were stuck between Bakugou and Mina, though this time you were prepared and had worn perfume. She looked at you excitedly, like she wanted to say something, but before she sent an angry look to Bakugou.

"Hey, Baku, can you go sit with Denki or something? We're gonna talk and you're preventing us."

"Haah?" Bakugou yelled. "I was the first one sitting here! And I'm not fucking preventing you, I'm just fucking sitting here, it's not like I wanna hear the stupid shit you'll talk about."

Oh, but he, did. He was dying to hear what you would talk about.

"It's not stupid shit, its girl talk!" She defended, grinning when Bakugou stood up. "W-what do you want to talk about, Mina?" It took a lot of willpower for you not to say Mina-san. "A little bird told me you have a slight liking to a certain angry boy." She finally told you, waiting at first for a bit of suspense.

"W-what, who?" You blurted, immediately noticing the mistake you did. "I mean, that's not- that's not true!"

"Oh come on, don't try to hide it!" She giggled, nudging you. "I know you have a crush on bskdhdhdh!" You slapped your hand on her mouth just in time, a sigh of relief coming out your mouth when you stopped her from saying the name. Though, you couldn't stop her from screaming about you having a crush.

"You what?!" Eiji screamed, standing up.

"Ooh, our little Y/N-chan has grown so fast," Denki told as he wiped the nonexistent tears off his eyes.

"So, who's the lucky guy?" Sero asked, grinning.

"Oops, I may have made a mistake," Mina said, giggling.

The only one that hadn't said one word was Bakugou, though that was somehow even more uncomfortable. His gaze lingering over you, you felt like you were going to die of embarrassment (and why did he have to wear that black t-shirt? It only made you even more flustered, and you just couldn't help but think about how nice he looked)

"It's nothing." You smiled awkwardly, face heating up. You glanced away, looking at anyone but him. "It's a misunderstanding." A fake giggle and all should be good, right?

Well, apparently not.

"No, don't you try to laugh your way out of this. What is this crush?" He looked so angry, it was one of those rare moments that he looked plain out scary.

"It's an innocent crush, Eiji! Nothing to worry about, okay? Now sit down, I need to do my homework anyway." Eyes narrowing, his gaze stayed on you a little more, though he dropped the subject soon after.

"If anything happens, you'll tell me everything." He told Mina, though it sounded more like a threat.

"It's not my place to do so." She answered, grinning wickedly.

***

You peeped your head from the door, trying to take a look of inside. What were they doing?

You've been doing your homework the past hour or two -it was only 10 minutes, but it felt like an eternity- and you came downstairs to seek help.

"Hi, guys." You finally entered, only to find them all snuggled on the couch, watching the greatest show ever been made, Avatar the Last Airbender.

Eiji knew the consequences of such actions, desperately trying to close the TV, but he was late, you could recognize Uncle Iroh's voice from a mile away.

"How dare you!" You gasped, now feeling all eyes on you.

"Wait, what's going on?" Sero looked as confused as the rest of his friends.

"Eiji, how could you do this to me?" You ignored Sero altogether, eyes fixed on your red-headed brother.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, sis, it's just we had nothing to do and-"

"I can't even see you right now." You told him, turning your back to exit the room, leaving three very confused people after you.

"No, Y/N, wait!"

***

And that's how you found yourself to be snuggled between Bakugou and Denki.

It was really comfortable, you had to admit, but also very maddening. You couldn't even watch the show anymore, your senses filled with the boy sitting right next to you, his body touching yours ever so slightly, his hair tickling your face every time you moved to get a bit more comfortable.

"So you're telling me," Bakugou suddenly spoke up, though your eyes didn't leave the screen, you could feel his ruby eyes on you. "That you have a crush on this guy?"

"She does." Your brother mumbled from the other side of the room. "She even-"

"Shut up, or you won't be able to speak ever again." Everyone in the room suddenly froze, no one able to understand how the hell you just turned in to the most threatening person they ever saw.

"Well, damn, okay." Sero laughed, sending a small glance your way. "I don't know, man," Denki muttered. "Sokka is much better than Zuko. He is a nice dude, everyone likes him, has solid jokes, and is pretty smart. He's kinda like me, actually."

"Yeah, he is like you!" Mina suddenly cheered. "Except for the being-liked-by-everyone, having nice jokes and being smart parts, of course."

"Yeah, that's what I'm telling yo- hey!" He exclaimed, making everyone laugh. "If there's anyone that resembles any of these characters, it's Bakugou," Eiji muttered thoughtfully.

"What?" He snarled. Eiji shrugged. “You’re pretty similar to Zuko.”

"Wait, that's very on point!" You told him, causing Bakugou's brows to furrow. "Just think about it, you're very unreasonably angry all the time, keep picking useless fights with everyone, and are very rude!" Mina cheered.

Bakugou would have punched every one of you for even implying something like this, though now the only thing he could think about was if you thought this way too.

"I- I didn't mean it that way, though." You told them. "He always tries to look so tough from the outside, but he's actually sweet. He tries to act like he doesn't like the gaang or his friends, but in reality, he really likes them. Don't you guys think so too?"

"Now that you put it that way..." Mina muttered, the topic closing and everyone focusing their gazes on the screen once again, though, even though no one realized, a small smile was on Bakugou's lips.

***

After the Avatar marathon, you stood up, about to go upstairs to continue the dreadful math homework when an idea fell upon you. You turned your gaze to the boy, who was sitting on the couch like it was a throne instead. Spiky hair looking softer than usual, you wondered what it would feel like to run your fingers through them. His eyes were closed, and he looked tired. Under the dim light of the small lamp that hung from the ceiling, you were practically in awe of how pretty he was.

Cheekbones high and defined, a sharp jawline, like it indicated his sharp personality, delicate brows furrowed, buried in thought.

As if he felt your eyes on him, his eyes snapped open, crimson eyes finding yours. You probably looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, causing him to smirk. "What's your problem?"

"I- uh, I was wondering if you could help me with... math?"

"Again?!" That was a valid question, but it wasn't your fault math was too hard!

"It's okay, Y/N-chan, I can help you instead." You heard Denki's voice, a hand wrapping your shoulder, causing you, Eiji and Bakugou to jump in your places.

"You don't know shit." Bakugou growled, his gaze suddenly predator-like, making Denki wince and pull his hand back. "Don't do me dirty like that, Bakubro," Denki whined. "I'm just trying to help-" His voice suddenly muffled by the hand on his mouth, a hand that belonged to your bother.

"You come here for a second." Eiji told him threateningly, pulling him out of the room with force. "No- no, Kiri, don't do this to me!" The door closed behind them, though, a muffled scream or two could be heard every once in a while.

Everyone ignoring the whole ordeal, went back to what they were doing. Bakugou turned to you, his eyes on the sheet of paper you were holding. "So, does this mean you're helping me?"

Bakugou knew the second you turned to him with that pleading look in your eyes, he was already going to say yes. "Tch," he rolled his eyes, pulling the paper from your hands. "Whatever."

This time, he sat a bit closer to you.

You sat side by side, arms almost touching whenever he wrote something. "Did you understand this one?" He asked, the pencil he was holding pointing to the second question. Surprisingly, you did understand it. When you nodded, he smiled, it wasn't one of those cocky smirks, this one was a genuine, small smile that took your breath away.

"Then do this one yourself."

You gulped, tearing your eyes away from his face as you felt your face heating up. It took you a bit to get focused on what was in front of you, but you were able to use what Bakugou had explained to you, and eventually reached the answer.

"That's... That was pretty good." He told you as he inspected what you wrote. This time, it was you who smiled brightly, taking his breath away. He could feel his heart suddenly going crazy, hammering his chest as if it was trying to set itself free. And why did he have this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach? This dreadful but also... warm feeling?

He didn't like this. He didn't like it at all.

He stood up, his face suddenly angry, causing your smile to drop. He gritted his teeth when he realized he wanted to sit right back and apologize, to make you smile again. But instead, he picked his phone up from the table and turned his back to you.

He exited the room in a hurry that didn't even let you say anything, or thank him.

"Oi, shitty hair! I'm out." You heard him scream to your brother.

"So soon?" Eiji asked though the door already shut mid-sentence.

***

Although Bakugou had promised himself that he was going to stay away from you, as far as he could, this thing -whatever this was- went on for weeks. He wanted to stop, Bakugou really tried to not think of you whenever he saw a fucking number, but it didn't take long for him to realize he couldn't.

So instead, he came to see you every day, with or without the Bakusquad and helped you with math even if you didn't ask for him to.

You always asked him to, though.

On the other hand, you weren't thrilled about this whole situation either. At first, this was a normal, innocent crush, but as you spent more time with him, you found yourself falling for him. Hard.

"Hey, Bakugou!" You greeted him (you had dropped calling him Bakugou-Kun sometime, though you weren't really sure when), a big smile that you couldn't drop on your face. "Hey, idiot. I brought this shitty thing you like."

He meant donuts.

He didn't want to admit it, but he had only bought it to see the way your eyes sparkled when you held one in your hand, about to take a giant bite out of it.

The rest of the group was already here and settled, so you checked the paper bag in your hands if it had enough for everyone. You smiled brightly when you noticed it did, making your way to the kitchen.

You noticed Eiji standing, leaning to the door, and watching you both with furrowed brows. "Oh, don't look so mad, I'll give one to you too." You told him giggling, interpreting it wrong.

His face softened, also smiling. "Don't forget to give me the strawberry one!"

"We'll see about that!!" You answered as you exited the room.

"Oh, Bakugou-Kun, did you buy us the shit we like too?" Sero said mockingly, making the others snicker. "Shut the fuck up, tape face."

"Oh, but Bakugou-Kun-"

"I said, shut the fuck up!" Suddenly his heart was beating really fast. "Relax, Baku, having feelings for someone is nothing to be ashamed of!" Mina told him, though she already knew the answer he was going to give.

"I don't fucking have feelings, dumbass." Bakugou didn't have feelings, especially not towards you, the sister of his best friend. But still, he couldn't take his eyes off of you, he couldn't stop his heart from racing whenever you smiled, and he couldn't stop feeling like he would do anything for you to smile again when you don't.

"Sure you don't," Mina answered, a sly grin on her face when she noticed Bakugou's confused expression. It wasn't that Bakugou didn't want the feelings, he just couldn't understand them.

They would have taken it further if you hadn't entered the room with a plate full of donuts in your hands. "Nobody touches the Nutella one!" You told them, letting them take a donut.

You narrowed your eyes and sent a threatening look when Denki tried to take the one you were going to eat.

"You're not eating?" You asked when you noticed Bakugou not taking one. He shrugged. "I don't like sweets."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "Really? Can I eat yours then?" Bakugou found himself smiling to that, thinking about how adorable you looked with a donut in your hand, a shirt that was too big for you, probably stolen from Eiji and sugar powder smeared on your lips. He couldn't help but wonder, what would you do if he just leaned in and kissed you, right then and there? Would you flinch back? Scream at him? Maybe even be disgusted by him?

He decided he didn't want to lea the answer.

***

"Oh, you're staying late?" You asked with a small smile on your lips, making them look so kissable, Bakugou had to look away. "Yeah."

"You have homework?" He asked when you didn't say anything. He didn't want you to leave. "Nope, already did them."

Oh.

"But I kind of wanted to talk to you." You looked nervous, your hands clasped together, anxiously biting your lip. His eyes narrowed, crimson gaze wandering over you like he was trying to read your mind.

"I have-" You started to say, but stopped mid-sentence so he finished your sentence for you internally. ...feelings for you.

(You actually had an upcoming math exam, and you were hoping he could help you study for it, but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.)

Oh, he wasn't going to let you be the first to confess, so without thinking about it, Bakugou blurted. "I like you." There it was, he did it before you! But why did you look so shocked?

"You what?" You asked, eyes wide, just staring at him. Bakugou could feel his heart getting heavier by the second, hands turning cold and a dreadful knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Weren't you saying the same thing just then?

"I-" should he just tell you to forget about it? No, he wasn't the kind of man to just back off. "You heard me." He told you gruffly. "I like you."

Much to his annoyance, you stayed quiet, not giving him the chance to be happy or sad about it. Just silence. "And? What's your answer?!"

For the first time in this conversation, you looked at him properly. You hadn't noticed how his crimson gaze shined with uncertainty, confusion, and anxiety. He was afraid of your answer, you realized. Even the great Bakugou Katsuki was afraid of rejection.

So instead of giving him a verbal answer, you leaned in instead, your lips touching his softly.

His eyes opened wide with the contact, not being able to understand what was going on. Your lips were so soft, it molded perfectly against his, and he was afraid that if he moved even an inch, you would realize you were making a big mistake and pull back. So he froze.

"Bakugou?" You pulled back slightly after a few seconds, making him want to pull you back and never let go. "Won't you kiss me back?"

To this, Bakugou grinned, his hands suddenly on your back, pulling you towards him. The last thing you remembered before you lost yourself in the kiss was how soft his lips were, and how amazing he smelled.

***

"You know we still have to tell Eiji, right?" You told him, running your fingers through your messed up hair, trying to look like you didn't kiss a boy for the past... well, you weren't sure how long, actually.

"Yeah." He answered, lips slightly pink.

"You know, I think I have the perfect idea of how to tell him."

"You do?" He asked, now slightly intrigued. You nodded, standing up. Eiji was in his room, so you pulled Bakugou by the wrists up the stairs. "Come on." You told him when he hesitated. "This will work."

You knocked on your brother's door, opening it just the slightest when you heard him tell you to come in. "Hey, Eiji."

"Hey, sis." He smiled widely, not aware of Bakugou behind the door. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much." You shrugged, "Just wanted to tell you that Bakugou and I are dating, okay bye!" You shut the door after you without giving him the time to say anything, running down the stairs, and pulling Bakugou after you.

Your brother opened his door, running after you, his face as red as his hair. "You what?!"

"You idiot!" Bakugou screamed. "So this was your great idea?"

#bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha eijiro kirishima #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #eijirou kirishima imagine #mha bakugou #mha #bnha #bnha imagines

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atalho-s · 3 years

Text

Sweet Sugar

4 | Crosses

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: swear words, underage drinking (not much tho, nothing descritive and nothing like “Skins” lmao), suggestive scenes in some chapters, not smut!! but minors be aware. Fluff/angst/drama/ Y/n and Tom being stupid teenagers with feelings.

words: 2.5 k

a/n: english it’s not my first language, Sorry for any mistakes! If you want to be tag on the next chapters, please let me know

Summary: Y/n, Harrison and Tom has always been best friends. Since childhood they’ve always been close, but what happens if after a break up with her first boyfriend, she starts to feel something more about Tom

PART 4! If you want to read the other parts click here

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I woke up the other day feeling a little better, which was good. I washed my face thoroughly, put on a pair of jeans, a Beatles T-shirt along with a jacket and left my room, ready for another week of torture.

- Good morning mom... - I was saying going down the stairs, but I remembered that she had already left for work. Which was good, because that way I didn't have to talk about the party.

I had my coffee, in the silenc and soon after opened my phone, until I got on Instagram and saw that Tom had posted pictures of the party. The caption said: Thank you all! you guys are awesome! The photos from the party were great 😂

I was scrolling the photos, the first ones were all of us at the table, some were blurry of the people dancing... until I saw one of him with other people from school: Meghan was hugged him from the side making the peace sign with her fingers and he was kissing the top of her head. I sighed feeling my eyes fill with tears again. Okay, maybe I wasn't as ok as I thought.

I blocked my phone and put it in my pocket, taking my backpack and leaving the house, otherwise I would going to be late. I had to focus on school, not crying for silly things, I had to pay attention in my tests, that was more important than anything.

I went down the street and found Haz already waiting for me in the same place, I approached him and when he looked at my face, he made a pitying one.

- You saw the photos didn't you? - he asked and I nodded as he hugged me.

- It's alright Haz, I'll be fine- I said releasing him after a few seconds and he looked at me raising an eyebrow doubtingly - It's no big deal! By the way, I won't talk about it anymore, if we don't go now, we'll be late for school. - I said pulling him and we started walking.

- Okay... But just to close this subject, Tom sent me a message yesterday asking if you were okay and if there was anything wrong because you left early without saying goodbye.

- Hmm, and you didn't say anything right?

- Of course not! I just said that you weren't very used to drinking and that was all, and he believed... - Haz said and I breathed a sigh of relief.

- Good... He also texted me yesterday, he even wanted me to go to his house to tell me about Meghan.

- Well, whether way, he still thinks he's your best friend, nothing more than that...- Haz said, and I hated that he was right.

- It's true, and he's just my best friend, nothing more... - I emphasized the JUST- Did he tell you anything else about Meghan? - I asked and when Haz was going to answer I cut him - Never mind, It’s better if i don’t know. - I said waving my hand in the air.

- If you want it that way... - he replied. - Oh god you two have the same class today right? - he asked and I put my hand in my forehead. I had forgotten that I had English today for the first two classes and Tom would be sitting right next to me.

- I had even forgotten about that. But you know what? I'm going to stay there like a champ and ignore everything. - I said determined and Haz laughed feeling a little sad for me.

- Okay, I support that, but...- he was talking and I cut him again saying: shhh.

- No buts, and now enough of this subject, because we're already arriving. - I said and he rolled his eyes in agreement.

We arrived at the corner and Tom was already waiting for us as usual. He wore a blue sweatshirt and a backwards cap, black jeans and white sneakers. Obviously he was gorgeous as usual, which was ridiculous, but no sign of Meghan, which was good for now...

I tightened my grip on Haz's arm that I was hooked on and he smiled encouragingly. We got closer and Tom looked up from his phone, hanging up and putting it in his pocket.

- Hey strangers! - He said putting the backpack on his back, shaking hands with Haz and me with the usual kiss on the forehead. I lowered my eyes, smelling his scent and smirked. - You better y/n?

- I am, staying in bed all day yesterday did me good. - I said as we headed towards the stairs.

- That's good! And even better that now you have two classes with me- he said winking and Haz looked at me apprehensively.

- HA-HA, very funny. Too bad I'll have to pay attention in class and I won't be able to talk to you. - I said shrugging and Tom looked at me with an ironic face.

- Wow shortie, I felt rejected now. - He said pouting and I rolled my eyes. Of rejection I knew well.

- Well, I have to go because I have a presentation about geography, so, see you guys later? - Haz said when we arrived in the hallway, waving and looking at me discreetly as if he was saying: good luck.

- Let's go, grumpy face? - Tom said pointed for me to go ahead. I rolled my eyes looking at him, which he laughed and we went to the class.

I sat a little further back in my usual seat and Tom sat behind me. I was feeling claustrophobic, but it was only two classes, I could survive this. But when Mr. Ribbs came into the room and started talking, I lost all courage i had.

- Good morning students! Today the two classes will be more dynamic. As I know you had a difficult week, with so many papers and tests, I decided to leave these classes for you to go to the library and pick up any book to read and then give me a summary about it. - he was talking and I was excited, because I loved reading and I could still get my book and be quiet without having to talk to Tom, right? - But... I want you to do this in pairs. - wrong - Happy reading! - He said and everyone stood up forming their pairs and leaving the room one by one.

I felt someone nudge my shoulder and tooking a deep breath I turned around, seeing a smiling Tom.

- Good, reading... At least you like to read, because I with my dyslexia... - he laughed.

- Yeah good... it fit like a glove... Shall we go? - I said and we got up going towards the library. If Tom thought my way of talking was a little dry, he didn't react, which was good.

We arrived at the library and I was looking among the shelves for something easy and good for us to read.

- Y/n, darling... I have to tell you about yesterday - Tom started talking excitedly as he followed me through the halls. - After you and Haz left, a lot things happened...

- Hmm, I'm glad you had fun Tom. - I said a little disinterested picking up some books and looking at the synopsis.

- Yea! I had a lot of fun, but what happened was...

- Hey, how about we read Pride and Prejudice? It's one of my favorites, I think it's a good one, because we just need to read the main parts to refresh our memory. - I said, interrupting him.

-Yeah... Sure, I think it's a good one. - he said as I grabbed Jane Austen's book off the shelf and headed toward one of the tables.

- Shortie, how about if we read this outside? I think it's better than staying here, besides, we can talk better. - Tom said and I stopped turning around. Damn it, I was counting on staying there in the library anyway, so he wouldn't be able to say anything about the night before, because they were going to tell him to be quiet.

- Okay, good idea... - I said, giving up on to try to inventing another excuse.

We left the library and headed towards some tables outside. They were empty, except for a couple of couples scattered around the yard who had the same idea. I sat down and Tom sat next to me putting the book on the table and pulling out his notebook so we could write something down.

- So, as I was saying... We were on the dance floor, right, and Meghan and I were talking about the theater and other things, until... Guess what? - He started talking and I raised my eyebrow, while trying to distract myself with the book. - She said she thought I was cute and that I had a cute, sexy look. - He continued and I laughed ironically.

- So far so good, right... Until she just kissed me in the middle of the dance floor! - He said as if it were the most extraordinary thing in the world. Yeah, I thought with myself, I was there and saw everything, that's why I'm feeling bad and I can't even look at your face right now... I wanted to say it, but I just looked at him pretending to be interested.

- And mate, it was the best kiss of my life! We stayed together practically all night... Damn, I've dreamed about this so much since childhood...

- Good Tom, it must have been a really good birthday gift, right? - I said, looking at the book again.

- Yea! It was perfect...- he said and I could feel him staring at me. - Hey, you don't seem very excited about my little conquest... - he nudged me pouting and I looked at him.

- Nah, it's just that you guys are always hooking up lately, so I'm just not surprised...- I replied shrugging.

- Y/n Meghan is not just a hook up, she is an old passion, she is special - he said and I felt my heart ache a little while looking away. - You dont like her?

- It's not that I don't like her... I don't even know her, I just... I think she did it after you started getting more popular with the theater, because before that she didn't even look at you...

- That's not true, besides, people can change right? Maybe she realized that I'm not as bad as she thought before... I don't know... But as you said, you don't even know her, so I didn't understand you being mad like that. -he said scribbling in his notebook.

- It's not that I'm mad, I just... I didn't wake up very well today, that's all...

- Yeah... But you don't need to project that to others around you, I thought you'd be happy for me.- Tom said and I looked at him ironically.

- Yeah, but there are days when we're not okay Thomas and not in the mood to be throwing confetti at every girl your friend kiss at some party. - I said and regretted it right away, it wasn't fair to him.

Tom looked at me in surprise, as I had never talk with him like that. Even as kids we didn't fight, why was I being such a bitch now? He took his things in silence and walked away leaving me with tears in my eyes.

I shook my head trying to get rid of what had just happened. I picked up the book and tried to read it, but I couldn't even get past the first line. Damn, why did I have to have those feelings? It wasn't fair.

I thought about going after Tom and apologizing, but I don't think he wanted to see me right now. A few minutes passed and the class was almost finishing when I felt someone nudge my shoulder. I turned in hopes of seeing Tom, but was surprised to see Steven standing up in front of me.

- Are you okay? I heard you fighting with Tom earlier, I never saw you guys fight like that, so I was worried. - he asked.

- I'm fine Stev, it was just a silly disagreement, nothing to worry about. Are you okay? - I asked trying to change the subject.

- Yeah, just studying a lot, you know, I have to go to business school. - he said and I agreed. Steven always wanted to work at his father's company, but for that he had to go to business school in Japan, because there was one of the company's units there and that's where his father wanted him to live. A lot of his family was Japanese, so he had an advantage with the language and culture. But that was one of the reasons we broke up, after fighting a lot about who was going to live where. - And you still focused on journalism?

- Of course, forever and always. - I said and we laughed, hearing the bell saying the class are over.

- Well, I have to go, I have to meet Elle, good luck with your essay. - He said pointing to the book.

- For you too. - I said smiling and he left towards the building.

I got up to get my things, scanning the yard with my eyes, but there was no sign of Tom. I sighed and put my headphones on, heading towards our tree. As I was already out there I ended up arriving first, so I sat down and played the song Crosses by José González.

I waited a few minutes and saw Haz approaching and I took off my headphones as I watched him sit beside me.

- So..How everything went? Where is Tom?- he asked looking around.

- A disaster... - I said, rubbing my hands over my face. - We ended up arguing, I said some things without thinking and he left without saying anything.

- Oh y/n... I don't even know what to say, but did you confess something to him? he asked and I widened my eyes.

- No! Are you crazy? I told him I didn't trust Meghan, but in a rude way... - I said and Haz took a deep breath hugging me sideways.

- Well, you can't control your feelings...

- But I can control my tongue. - I said and we laughed a little. - How was it with Gracie? Did you guys talked today? - I said changing the subject.

- I talked to her a lot by text during class, I even asked her if she wanted to spend some time with us now, but she said she had to hang with her friends...

- Hmm. - I said putting my hand on my chin losing myself in thoughts as I watched the patio to see if I could see Tom. And after a lot of looking I found him. And there he was sitting on one of the benches near the building with Meghan hugging him, she with his cap on her head and the two of them were laughing and talking excitedly to each other. Until he gave her a kiss and she reciprocated.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland friends to lovers #tom holland series

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with-love-anu · 4 years

Text

Badass women of Hogwarts

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: You always leave Fred confused, being a pureblood and slytherin he never quite expects you to be so kind

Warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries and passing out

Word Count: 2,909

Fred rolled his eyes as the pink, monster of a woman as she took them to her office yet again. George was right behind him, sighing quietly. They couldn’t. Not when that first year had done nothing wrong. They had to take the blame.

“Ahhhh Miss (Y/n), doing good I hope?” she said, smiling wickedly at the student in front. (Y/n) bit her tongue, trying not to say anything that would get her into any more trouble. Her hand was already red and swollen.

Fred’s gaze shifted to you, writing over the small round table. He furrowed his eyebrows. Didn’t Umbridge support all Slytherins?

“Mr. Weasley!” came the teacher’s shrill voice and Fred looked at the toad again.

“If you two could please take the quills here?” she said mockingly as they both picked it up, sitting behind a small table together.

“What do we have to write?” they asked taking out a sheet.

“Write, ‘we must not destroy school property.’” She said, laughing. If there could be a worse sound in the world.

Fred started writing as he felt the familiar prick in his hands. Hundreds of needles, stabbing his arm as he tried not to hiss. He heard a small gasp beside as he turned to look at you. Your one arm was plump and you were writing from the other one. Did the witch made you write from both of them?

“Now Mr. Weasley, it would be nice to concentrate on your own punishment and let it sink in. Miss (Y/l/n), I hope you are getting the message?” she asked sipping her tea. Fred wondered if it was polyjuice hiding something far terrible from them, but then again, she was already horrendous.

“Yes, professor.” You said with such contempt, that George looked up exchanging a glance with him. The teacher however didn’t notice.

Fred kept sneaking glances at you throughout the next few hours. You were bit your lip as if trying not to say something. He never quite noticed you if he was honest. You were always with your close friends from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. You were a quiet person seemingly blending with the crowds. He always took it to be pride over your blood status, not wanting to mingle with the so called, ‘dirty bloods’. Now as he saw you, he wondered if he was wrong. He wanted to know what brought you here. He looked down at his own parchment thinking what had gotten into him.

He scribbled furiously, wanting to get this over with. George raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged. He saw you stand up, showing Umbridge your arms, getting a tut for approval. He rushed through the next few lines, filling up the page as he felt tears prick his eyes.

He stood up as you left the room, rushing to the witch. He showed his arms to her and the page. Umbridge raised her eyebrows at him. Fred bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something.

“You may leave Mr. Weasley. Remember not to repeat it again.” She said as Fred tried to nod. Fred rushed out of the room, turning towards the corridor leading to the dungeons. He turned and finally saw you walking slowly towards your dorm.

“Heyyy! (Y/n)!!! Wait!” he called out as you turned to see the notorious boy with apprehension.

“What did you get detention for?” Fred asked out of breath as you let out a laugh little at his state and a little remembering the best moment of your life.

“I called her a stupid ignorant bitch who needs to re-attend all her classes at how not to be an idiot.”

“You, WHAT?” Fred said barking out laughing. “You didn’t”

“Well don’t tell me; I have a hard time believing it too!” you said laughing nervously. There weren’t many things that riled you up. But that woman was a monster, she infuriated you and the burst of anger was the result.

“Well, don’t you support blood purity and stuff?” Fred said looking at you. You frowned, deflating immediately.

“Did I say that?” you asked.

“No…”

“Then why did you think that?” you said sighing, shaking your head. You turned and walked back to your dorm, not wanting to continue the conversation. Gryffindors were mighty judgmental even though they upheld honor and bravery. Fred jogged to catch up with you.

“I didn’t want to offend you.” He said as you reached the Slytherin common room.

“Well, too late for that Weasley” you shrugged, moving inside leaving the red-head more intrigued than ever.

You tried to shake away budding thoughts as you lay in bed that night. You were done with people assuming that you upheld totally disgusting views on blood purity just because you were a pureblood and a Slytherin. Just because you were quiet didn’t mean you agreed with every single one around you. So why did his thoughts still plague you? Maybe it was because of the way he asked, his face as it lit up when you told him what you did. Whatever it was, you were sure that the next day would come soon and he would forget this conversation happened all together. Maybe you would too.

***

You took out yet another book, placed haphazardly on the shelf. You sighed seeing it wasn’t even in the right section of the hall. You took up to helping Madam Pince with the library long ago. You got to spend more time here than anyone, plus you had free access to the restricted section. There was a tap on your shoulder as you turned to see Fred. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Need some help?” Fred asked.

“No, it’s all good.”

“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday. I totally didn’t mean to offend you. I'm sorry for being judgemental.”

“It’s okay.”

“Let me help you,” he said taking the book from your hands, and going to keep it in the right section. You found yourself smiling at his retreating figure.

You weren’t gonna lie, with his help, everything finished a lot faster and easily and you were thankful. Keeping the away the last stash of books you sighed. Fred grinned beside you. The two of you went to a secluded table at the back, hidden from Madam Pince. Unless, you shout at the top of your lungs, you could pretty much keep talking here.

“Thank you for helping me today.”

“It is always my pleasure to help the badass women of Hogwarts.” He said dramatically as you laughed.

“Believe me, I don’t know what took over me. Maybe it was her just drilling everyone, I was done.”

“It was still badass.” He said with sparkling eyes and you smiled widely.

“What about you?”

“Hmmm?”

“Why were you being punished?”

Fred told you the reason as you felt the familiar knots tie up your stomach. She was horrid. You wondered why she was given the job of a teacher in the first place. Fred sensed your expression and changed the topic. You both laughed and talked and for the very first time, you felt at ease. The twins were like that, weren’t they? Making everyone comfortable? Your eyes widened at the time. The two of you had been talking for hours! Fred followed your gaze to the huge clock and grinned.

“I must say (Y/n), for a quiet student, you sure do talk much” he said smirking down at you. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Do I hear complains?” you asked, raising an eyebrow and Fred laughed.

“Not at all, miss!” he said, bowing down as you giggled a little.

***

Fred started seeing you almost everyday. It was always nice to talk to him, to be near him in general. You would laugh, have fun and just forget about everything, if only for a little while. George joined you two sometimes and the three of you would goof around. You felt light for the first time after years. Come to think of it, you didn’t remember a time when your close friends talked about anything other than Umbridge and NEWTs. It was a great change.

Fred never not called you ‘Miss’ or ‘Madam’ having his little smirk on as you tried hard not to blush. Something had changed a while ago as you saw Fred helping a terrified first year Slytherin. Your heart had started to flutter whenever he was around. You had started to melt at his compliments. You knew where this was going and didn’t like it. At all. Didn’t stop your heart from doing it anyway. There were so many reasons against you for falling for the notorious red-head. You didn’t want to destroy the new found friendship. Then why did you keep finding yourself staring at the freckles which covered his cheek, his sparkling eyes which were sharper and darker than his twin’s? His smile that warmed your heart?

The three of you were coming back from the library as George and Fred told you yet another story of the burrow. As you turned the corner, you saw Umbridge holding a child’s arm as he cried, leading him to her office. The grip was tight and sure to leave bruises, even you could see that, standing feet apart. You scowled trying to breathe. Fred and George looked at each other.

“Are you thinking what I am?”

“We have an important prank on our hands?”

“Yes, we do.”

“I’ll join you.” You blurted, looking at them both.

“What?”

“I’ll join you. I want in.” you said as they grinned at you.

“You’re most welcome, Madam!” Fred said winking at you as you felt your heart do flips. You tried hard not to blush.

***

You started pranking the pink disaster along with the twins and you weren’t sad about it. Even for a moment. You had fun seeing steam rise out of Umbridge’s ears, her face contort in the most hilarious of ways. She looked comical. One time turned into two and then three and you never quite stopped. You always did it when she was overlooking a punishment, so as to help the students. And it was never not funny. You did get caught at times, but you faced all the punishments bravely. There was a satisfaction in it, getting punished when you knew it was you who did something deliberately for it. And the twins made it easier too. It was like you weren’t alone. All in this together.

Fred loved this side of you. The side that was wild and untamed. You would come up with the most crazy of ideas and were amazing at executing them too. Your eyes sparkled and there was a passion in them that he loved. Nothing seemed to deter you, not the punishments, not the scoldings, not the friends who held you back. Fred had overheard them telling you to take care of yourself as you’d just laughed and said, ‘It’s time I took care of others.’ Fred’s heart had strangely warmed on hearing it. He didn’t know what it was, whether it was pride or something else.

It was yet another detention. Umbridge had made you go on for hours. You had taken blame for it all. Fred paced the corridor outside the office. He was worried. It had been four hours already. Not to say that you hadn’t healed properly from the last punishment, now this? His heart beat faster with each passing second. Why the hell would you do it? They were in this together. Why did you have to save both their asses?

“Fred, sit down.” George commented. He sat on the low stone wall and had seen Fred become more and more anxious for you.

“I can’t. I can’t. I need to see her. What is that witch doing to her? We need to get her out George. She-“ Fred huffed as George shook his head. He was so oblivious to his own feelings.

“Do you like her Fred?” he asked softly as Fred stopped to look at him, frowning.

“Of course I like her, she’s my fri-“

“Don’t be dumb, Fred. Do you like like her?” he asked as Fred’s eyes widened. It was as if on queue that he heard the office door opening and closing. You came out, wiping your face with your sleeve. They both jogged towards you. You smiled at them forcefully.

“Heyyy…” you said, your voice raspy. Fred’s heart beat faster on seeing you. You had rolled your sleeves down so they couldn’t see the wound.

“(Y/n)-“

“Could I see you two tomorrow? I’m very tired.” You managed to get out. You knew Fred would flip on seeing deep cuts on your arm. He would do something reckless and get in trouble. You didn’t want that.

George nodded, Fred didn’t. His eyes were pleading as he looked at you. You couldn't take it. You knew that if you looked at him a second longer, you would break.

You turned, walking back to your dorm, trying not to let the tears fall. It hurt, it hurt so much. You felt your head zoom suddenly and you plopped down in a corner trying to take in deep, deep breaths. You whimpered, slowly rolling up your sleeves to see the damage. You slowly pulled away the cloths you’d wrapped your arms under, hissing at the sensation. It was still bleeding. Profusely.

“(Y/n)!!!” Fred’s voice came as you tried to wipe away your tears, but weren’t fast enough. Fred’s heart dropped on seeing you. You were crouched in a corner, holding your bloodied arms. He gasped as he slowly walked over to you, sitting down on the floor beside you slowly. He didn't utter a word. Maybe the silence would fill in everything he wanted to say. He was scared he would hurt you. You looked at him, your eyes red, as he took your hands in his. He rummaged through his bag taking out a gillywater vial.

“Fred, that’s the last batch. I ca-“ you started as he shushed you. He transformed the vial into a large bowl, increasing the potion as much as possible. He let your hand sink in them as you hissed making his heart contract. He looked at you seeing how hard you tried not to cry. Tears pricked his eyes. As he saw your wounds slowly healing, he took the bloodied cloths, cleaning them. He dipped it in a paste Hermione gave him, which helped to calm the skin down. He wrapped them both on your hands, as you took them out of gillywater. You kept looking at him as he worked, his hands so tender and careful, you’d think they were flowers.

He looked at you as he was done. He wiped away the tears you didn’t know had fallen. He kissed your forehead and heard you sniff. Wrapping his hands around you, he pulled you closer. He didn’t know who needed the contact more, him or you. You broke down. He felt you shake as you cried into his chest. Fred felt as if someone squeezed his lungs as he let his own tears fall. No. Not you. He didn’t want you to suffer. You didn’t deserve this. He blamed himself for not coming forward as George had held him back. You were always strong and seeing you break like this, it triggered something in him. he wanted to keep you like this. If it was what it took to keep you safe. He realized something. He realized just how much he had come to love you, to cherish you and seeing you hurt, even if it was a little, killed him. He had to tell you.

He didn't know how long he held you. He picked you up when you calmed down and led you to your dorm, putting you to bed. He whispered sweet dream wishes into your ear and you sighed. He got out of the Slytherin house dorms and started planning.

***

You woke up to a shuffling in your bed. Your eyes widened as you saw someone shifting. You were about to scream as a hand stopped you and you met with familiar brown eyes. He took his hands away smiling at you softly. You squinted at him. Was he blushing?

“Fred?”

“I’m sorry I woke you up, but this couldn’t wait. And it’s almost afternoon anyway.” He said nervously as you looked at the time. 12pm. He wasn’t wrong. You let out a laugh. Maybe you were pretty exhausted since yesterday.

“Ummm, these are for you.” He said, giving you your favourite flowers. You were confused but smiled widely nonetheless.

"Thank you, are-" you started but Fred shushed you.

"(Y/n), I realised just how much I love you yesterday. Seeing you hurt, it broke me." He said cupping your face. Your heart flipped. "I am in love you. And I hate myself for taking it so long to realise. It's okay if you don't like me back. But I really needed to tell you. I-"

You pressed your lips against his. He gasped but pulled you closer, kissing you like he was dying to. Maybe he was. He pulled away breathless.

"Wait, I wanted to ask you out on a date!" He said as you laughed.

"We can go on as many dates as you want. But first let me kiss you properly" you said pulling him down to kiss again.

A/N: This is written for Clarrisa's ( @approved-by-dentists ) 400 writing challenge. This is also, based on the ship request, I did for @futurewriter2000 which can be found here.

#fred #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred and george #george #george weasley #the weasley twins #the weasleys #Hp #harry potter #Anu writes #clarissas400challenge

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luciferloser · 3 years

Text

Demon brothers & Undateables react to an MC with a preteen child

(As you might have guessed by now, GN MC!)

(the child’s gender may be specified in some of the scenarios)

(Y/C/N = your child’s name)

Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphie’s section!!

Lucifer

Toddler or Preteen, it didn’t make much difference to the eldest brother. He’s seen all the stages of development with the majority of his brothers and Satan, there’s probably nothing your child could possibly throw his way that would shock him.

That is, until he actually met your child. At first he remained at his full height to assert dominance, there was no way he was going to stoop to this human’s level not that his back would allow it anyways. But then, before he could even properly introduce himself, your 12 year old squared his shoulders and declared to the Avatar of Pride, if he did anything to hurt you, your son would make his life hell... oh wait.

That bold statement did surprise Lucifer at first, but as your son trailed off and stepped back slightly, realising his mistake, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Kudos, young man, but I don’t think there’s much you can do that can torment me terribly.” he chuckled.

“Wanna bet?” your son grumbled in response, already thinking of numerous ways to make this strange man pay.

“I have six younger brothers, I’d like to see you come up with anything they haven’t.” he smirked in response, “Anyways, come along, preparations for your room have been completed.”

With that, Lucifer turned away from your son and strode down the corridor. This year was certainly going to be interesting...

Mammon

The Avatar of Greed didn’t really know what to say when he saw you standing next to a slightly smaller version of yourself. At first, he thought you were siblings, but then it dawned on him that you had a child.

Mammon, as the ‘babysitter’ naturally spent more time around your daughter than you, but that certainly didn’t stop him from adding the odd flirtatious remark to you when he wasn’t being a tsundere.

It was this development that caused your daughter to speak up one evening when she was chilling in the lounge with Mammon and Asmodeus. “Listen, Mammon, as much as I don’t mind you flirting with my parent, there’s something you ought to know. Hurt them and I swear to you now I will kick you so hard up the ass you’ll taste nothing but my shoe for a week.” your daughter boldly announced, not once glancing up from her phone.

While Asmo was busy rolling on the floor in tears of laughter, the white-haired demon just spluttered as his cheeks darkened. “H-hey what makes you think I-I’d hurt ya ma anyways.” he tried to defend himself.

“I’m not saying I expect you’re going to hurt them, just giving you even more of an incentive not to.” your child smiled in an almost sickeningly sweet manner before jumping up from the sofa.

“This was a lovely chat but me and Beel are going out for lunch, catch you later!”

Asmo picked himself up from the floor, and as he pushed Mammon’s jaw back up, he added “she’d be the perfect niece for me, hurry up and take MC out on a date.” With that, Mammon shook his head slightly as he went to go and find you. He wasn’t sure whether he hoped the attitude came from you or not...

Leviathan

When the otaku heard the news that the exchange student had a child, he was quite nervous. One human was going to be enough to handle, let alone an additional smaller one.

His fears only worsened when you left him alone with your child for the first time. The two of you had been gaming as you usually did once a week and your child wanted in this time. You stood up at the end of that round, promising that you were going to get the three of you drinks and some snacks. Before Levi could even protest, you had already closed the door behind you.

The demon of Envy’s eyes darted all around his room, looking anywhere but at the small human. That is until your spawn child murmured his name. Snapping his head round to face your child, his eyes widened slightly.

“Okay so I get you don’t really hang out with ‘normies’ or whatever that’s supposed to mean, but if you really don’t wanna be with my parent then tell them that. I’m not gonna let you hurt them like that.” your child confessed, eyes never once leaving his.

After that confession, Leviathan got a faraway look in his eyes as he thought of the resemblance to an anime he’d just finished binge watching last night; ‘my human best friend has a child that is secretly a guardian angel!’.

Snapping out of his reverie, Levi looked down at your child once more and nodded his head profusely. ‘I solemnly swear to you I will protect them.’ he recited the lines the protagonist from the anime had used, but he meant every word he said.

Satan

Being the youngest of his brother’s meant Satan had never really had anybody to be a role model for. Which is why, surprisingly, he felt compelled to look out for your child when he first met you both. Especially because your child was already past the unnecessary crying stage and had a pretty solid understanding of communication.

Your child had never really been an extrovert and so the avatar of wrath hadn’t been too opposed to looking after your carbon copy when you were busy being pulled in every which direction by his brothers. On one of those days, your child had accompanied Satan to the library to find some more books to occupy themselves with; seeing as they weren’t technically enrolled at RAD there was no need for them to complete any class work.

“Hey Satan, can I ask you something?” Your child enquired, glancing up from their novel.

“Hm? What’s on your mind, Y/C/N?”

“Why do you look at my parent like they hung the stars in the sky? And don’t say you don’t, because I spoke to Asmo about it too and he couldn’t agree more.” Your smaller version of yourself asked, tilting their head slightly.

Blinking rapidly in surprise at the question, Satan gawped at your child before shaking his head slightly. “You shouldn’t ask Asmo questions like that. He’s the avatar of lust - not love. I know for a fact he thinks I’m looking at them like-“

“Gross! I don’t need to hear about things like that, I’m gonna go hang out with Simeon if you’re gonna talk about that.” Wrinkling their nose in disgust, your child stood up to leave, packing his books with him. Smiling to himself as he watched Y/C/N leave, he thought to himself ‘I guess I need to have a chat with Y/N’

Asmodeus

The avatar of lust couldn’t help but squeal in delight when he took in the sight of you standing with your child. He had not one, but two new friends to go out clubbing with! What? What do you mean Y/C/N isn’t allowed to go clubbing? Well that’s boring. Oh well, they can always just go shopping together and Asmo can arrange some fashion shows for you and your child. In fact, yesterday he bought the cutest coat and it would suit Y/C/N so well.

Speaking of going shopping together, one night when you and Beel had gone out to Madame Screams to try some of the new ice cream on offer, Asmo had invited Y/C/N back to his room for a self care night after shopping all day. Applying a face mask to his skin and your daughter’s, he laid beside her to let the mask dry.

“Hey Asmo, I have a question for you.” your child stated, staring up at the canopy that covered the demon of lust’s bed.

“If its about that brunette demon that held the door open for you at River Styx he’s single but there’s so many nicer demon’s out there for you and I’m pretty sure he-“

“No! It’s not about him. I admit he was cute but that’s not what I wanted to ask. What I wanted to ask was, whether you were interested in anybody...” your daughter trailed off, suddenly feeling bad for prying.

“Oh honey, while you’re an absolute treasure and I have loved spending time with you lately I don’t think we’d be a very good match at all. If I’m honest I’m more interested in Y/N. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way- why are you laughing?” Asmodeus stopped his spiel of an apology at the sound of your daughter’s chuckles.

“I’M not into you like that either, babe. I only asked for my parent’s sake. They’re head over heels for you and I just wanted to see if you felt the same.” Your daughter confessed, rising from Asmo’s bed to find a washcloth. “When they get back from the ice cream store with Beel, you should totally ask them out. Watch how quickly they’ll stumble to agree.” And with that, your daughter left the avatar of lust alone with his thoughts of you.

Beelzebub

“Did the human bring a snack with them?”

That was the first thing the redhead ever said to you and your teen son. Needless to say it took a while for your son to warm up to Beel after that. When the situation was explained to the glutton felt very guilty afterwards and went above and beyond to make it up to him.

One afternoon when the three of you were supposed to go to a new cafe that had just opened, Lucifer wanted to go over some paperwork with you, and so Beel offered to take your son out anyways and promised to try to save you a cupcake. Your son didn’t look too thrilled at the idea of going out for food with the demon who thought he was the snack, but reluctantly agreed for your sake.

“Look, Beelzebub I have to be honest with you. You seem nice enough and all, but I still don’t trust you especially knowing you could swallow us whole and thought about doing that the first time we met you. But on the flip side, you did protect Luke from Lucifer a while ago. So I suppose I can learn to trust you, is what I’m trying to say.” Y/C/N stated as he brought a mug of spiced tea to his lips, looking over at the demon who went wide eyed at the sudden confession.

Swallowing the rest of the cheesecake in his mouth, Beel nodded earnestly, “No its okay! I’m not surprised you don’t trust me, after what i said to you I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me. I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear, but i care about you, you’re basically family at this point. And I care about Y/N too; quite a bit actually.” By the end of his sentence, the demon’s face was almost as red as his hair.

“Hmph, I figured as much. If you care about them even half as much as you say you do, say something. You might be surprised what you find out.” Your son smirked, leaning back in his seat to take in the blushing demon before him.

Belphegor

Unsurprisingly, your son had a blatant distaste for Belphegor when they met officially. Watching your body fall still in Mammon’s arms to then disappear was enough to send him charging at the sloth demon. Even after Barbatos’ assistance on the matter and bringing you back, Y/C/N held the iciest glare he could muster. Laying a hand on his shoulder, you assured him you were okay and didn’t hurt anymore.

“Put it this way Belphegor. I never want to see you within touching distance of us again. Demon or not, I will not hesitate to swing for you. Nobody hurts my family.” Y/C/N spat, turning on his heel and tugging you with him.

After weeks of awkward meal times, you and Beel hatched a plan to get your son and his twin talking. You had forgiven Belphie for what happened, understanding that he’d had his own family in mind when he attacked you.

“Oh. Y/C/N have you seen Y/N? They wanted me to meet them here.” Belphegor asked, avoiding eye contact with your son the entire time.

“I wanted to ask you the same thing about Beel, he said-” your son was cut off by the sound of the living room door slamming shut and the lock clicking in place. “Is this some kind of joke? Mammon if that’s you and this is your idea of a joke you’re not funny! Open the door!”

There was no answer from the other side of the door, the only sound being that of a pair of retreating footsteps. Sighing in defeat, your son slid down the door and glancing at Belphegor, to see him looking just as uncomfortable as Y/C/N felt. “Well, there’s no telling how long we’re gonna be in here. I feel like I owe you an explanation...” The sloth demon began, wringing his hands together as he prepared to tell your son everything.

A few hours later, you and Beel opened the door slowly to reveal your son and Belphegor dozing on one another. Smiling at each other in victory, the two of you crept closer and wrapped them in one of the blankets on the back of the sofa. You had to admit, this was the most peaceful the two of them had looked in a long time.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me imagines

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kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

Where the Sea Meets Earth

Ao3 Link

Summary:

Tang's life has fallen into a steady, comfortable routine, one he feels no need to change.

So he doesn’t.

Until he has to.

Note: Hi! Lowkey used an idea from @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off when it came to Pigsy's rival. They make great content, give them a look! As always, shout out to my beta reader, @imnotcameraready, the most kind and patient editor out there. She edited this all in one night, the mad lad. Send love her way!! She goes by UncrownedKing on Ao3, check out her stuff! Anyway, have fun!

Tang’s routine is simple. Get up, watch Pigsy make breakfast. Steal an egg or two that Pigsy definitely didn’t make in preparation for such thievery. Follow Pigsy around as the noodle shop is set up for the morning. Listen to the hiss of oil in a hot wok, water bubbling in a tall pot, knife against the wooden cutting board, each slice precise with practice.

Admire the way Pigsy’s arms bulge with muscle as he lifts heavy boxes of spices, meat and vegetables. Watch the sweat on his brow build up as he tosses the ingredients in the wok, stirs the broth, sticks a pinkie in before pulling it out to taste the concoction, tilting his head to the side in thought every time before reaching for a different spice—

Chuckle when MK scrambles down the stairs, a second before being late. Wave back when MK greets him enthusiastically. Listen to Pigsy bark orders. Watch MK vanish out the store door, listen to the sound of the delivery cart starting up. Wait for the customers to come in.

Sometimes, between the breakfast and lunch rush, he will vanish into the town. He’ll peruse the shelves of a bookstore, maybe get a book or two. Then, he’ll come back to the restaurant and watch Pigsy work until closing, with the occasional interruption from MK or Mei. Pigsy will make dinner, and they’ll eat while watching TV before ending the night, asleep next to each other.

It’s a steady routine, one Tang feels no need to change.

So he doesn’t.

Routines are brought on by repeated motions and consistent action. He finds himself considering them more and more, these days. Tang follows the lines back, through time, to trace where each routine began, as Pigsy yells at MK to get going.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He lives off a trust fund from his late parents, as well as a few checks from his work in historic preservation. His family has passed down the stories of old for years, and he knows them well and by heart, because at 18 his memories had come flooding in, and suddenly he was older than time itself and yet just old enough to have sake enough that creating books and speaking on historical inaccuracies is easy to turn into a living.

A few years ago, he gave it up because it hadn’t seemed important to bother anymore after his parents died. The next year he’d wasted time coasting through town after town, sharing random tales for a meal, trying to forget that he was alone, until….

Two years ago, he watched Pigsy throw a customer out of his shop, threatening the unruly guest within an inch of his life, and thought Well then. Something interesting.

Tang had actually gone to the rival noodle shop first. It seemed a bit more inviting. Pigsy, for all his culinary achievements, is still very closed off, and his shop certainly reflects that. Sometimes, Tang wonders if Pigsy would get more customers if he’d change his attitude, but he never brings it up, because what would Pigsy’s Noodles be without Pigsy?

He watches from afar a few days, until the Pigsy’s rival shop owner not so subtly nudges him over, and the moment he walks in, he’s knocked to the ground by a very exuberant noodle delivery boy.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry—are you alright?” Tang sits himself upright to the sound of frantic apologies, seeing a kid no older than 18 fretting over him as if he’d been stabbed instead of simply knocked over.

“It’s fine,” he starts, a little annoyed but not rude enough to make the boy more panicked than he already looks to be.

“MK, what did you do?!” Comes the familiar gruff voice from the kitchen, and the boy—MK, Tang has gathered—helps him stand as the chef walks out of the kitchen, hands on his hips.

“I didn’t notice him coming in—I just knocked into him—it was an accident!” Tang worries, then, because MK seems scared, but those worries are swept away when the chef takes a deep breath and slowly, his stance relaxes.

“It’s fine, kid, just get those deliveries out, ‘kay?” his voice is so gentle, Tang remembers now he was taken aback. Now it feels so natural for Pigsy’s voice to be gentle. “I’ll take care of this.”

MK nods to that, jittery and anxious, and walks out with a forced slowness that Tang can tell is from worry and guilt. Once he’s left, Tang turns back to Pigsy, who lets out a breath and mutters something about how ‘this kid is gonna be the death of me’ before looking up at Tang with what Tang later learned is his customer service expression.

“Alright, c’mon in. Welcome to Pigsy’s Noodles, home of the longest noodles.”

At that, Tang has to snort. He saunters over to the barstools and sits as Pigsy goes back behind the counter, into the kitchen.

“I don’t know if long is the metric you want to brag about,” he snarks, settling easily.

Pigsy grunts in reply, already back to cooking.

Two minutes later, Tang gets a bowl of noodles placed in front of him.

“On the house,” Pigsy grouches, before Tang even thinks to reach into his coin purse. “For the trouble.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very sound business practice,” Tang laughs, taking a sip of the broth after it cools a little.

It was the best he had ever tasted.

“Don’t get any ideas about it.” Pigsy fidgets with his chef’s hat, face settling into a scowl, and yet Tang can tell it was all bluster with no substance.

He pulls a pair of chopsticks out of the free container, snaps them apart, and eats as customers flit in and out of the shop.

Despite the fact that he never stays in one place for too long, Tang finds himself sticking around more than just a few weeks, trailing through the streets and eventually finding himself back at the noodle shop. The noodles are delicious, cheap, and he finds the company of the chef a comfortable one.

Things get far more interesting when the delivery boy, MK, comes down late and gets an earful for it.

“Sorry—I stayed up late drawing the autobiography of Monkey King and I missed my alarm!” MK bows in apology, frantic, and Pigsy runs a hand over his face, pointing MK to a dirty table to clean.

MK gets to work quickly, but Tang turns to him with a curious expression.

“You like Monkey King?” he asks, and he hears Pigsy groan from the kitchen.

“Here we go,” Pigsy mutters, but he does nothing to stop MK from turning to face Tang with a wide, blinding smile on his face.

“Do I! He’s so cool, and strong, and handsome, and interesting! I’ve watched the animated series like, fifteen times!” he rushes up to Tang, pushing a very worn, bound together book.

Tang flips through it, more out of politeness than anything else, and finds himself pleasantly surprised by the intricacy of the sketches, the love poured into pages, notes on the stories themselves scrawled out next to the drawings.

“This is...surprisingly accurate,” He glances over at MK, who preens at the praise.

“Thanks! I’ve been drawing these, since, like, forever! It’s going to be Monkey King’s autobiography. Uh, unofficially, anyway,” MK rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“It’s always nice to see the younger generation so interested in history,” Tang grins with pride as he adds, “You know, I know essentially every Monkey King story. I even wrote an academic paper on them. Published.”

He watches MK’s excitement grow. “Really?! Oh my gosh, that’s so cool! Can you tell me one? Pretty please?!” He’s bouncing on his toes, and Tang can’t help but chuckle.

“I could tell you a tale or two,” he starts, watching as the shine in MK’s eyes grow. “But I need something in return. A bowl of noodles, perhaps?”

MK’s smile drops, and he fidgets.

“I don’t know if I have the money…” he mumbles, mostly to himself, and then he turns to Pigsy, a question in his eyes.

“No,” Pigsy says, immediately.

Tang has never seen someone use puppy dog eyes like a weapon before, but MK pulls them off like a pro.

MK’s hands are clasped together. “Please?”

“I got bills to pay, kid! I can’t be giving free meals to strangers!”

“Well, I’m hardly a stranger,” Tang teases, smile widening when Pigsy reddens. “We met yesterday, remember~?”

“Shut yer yap,” Pigsy grinds out, but Tang has seen Pigsy far angrier, from his reconnaissance days at the shop across the street, so he isn’t worried.

Pigsy turns back to MK, mouth clearly open to rebuff the kid, but MK’s puppy dog eyes have been turned up past 100%. Tang watches as Pigsy crumbles beneath their gaze.

“Fine,” he grits it out between clenched teeth. “But this is a one time thing! I don’t have time for freeloaders around here. And not now! I got ten orders to make, that you have to take out,” he points to MK, who is nodding his head so quickly his face becomes a blur.

“Okay! So, in like an hour, okay Mr.Tang?” he turns to Tang, who grins, calm as ever.

“I’ll be here,” he responds, voice even, and MK busies himself with cleaning up the tables before Pigsy hands him the orders.

When MK disappears, Pigsy sighs.

“You know, pretty sure it’s rude to use kids to get free food,” he says, and Tang can only chuckle again.

“I’m not sure what you mean. I’ve used my knowledge to score many a meal before, this is no different. You’d be surprised what people will give for an interesting story.”

Pigsy snorts, at that, and rolls his eyes.“You a good storyteller, at least?” he asks, and Tang puffs out his chest proudly.

“The best.” After all, his papers got him a pretty good amount of wealth, so he’d hope he’s good enough to earn that.

Pigsy turns back to his prep work, shaking his head, but Tang sees the barest hint of a smile, before Pigsy turns away.

Despite protests from Pigsy, Tang comes back the next day with another story and receives the same free bowl of noodles. He doesn’t get noodles every day, not stupid enough to think that Pigsy could afford to give him one daily, but he appears at the noodle shop every day regardless, if only to watch the hustle and bustle of the place, watch Pigsy work.

Pigsy works with practiced motions, not a single measuring cup or spoon appearing in his hand. Pinches, handfuls of colorful spices thrown in with fresh vegetables. Tang watches him string out the noodles from fresh made dough, dropping them in the broth, stirring, always test tasting, constantly adding something else, another pinch of spice, until he’s only somewhat satisfied.

It’s a familiar feeling. The need to constantly make better, the chase for perfection. Is it any wonder, then, that Pigsy’s shop thrives? Customers learn that deliveries are often better than eating in, because Pigsy’s attitude is abrasive and he’s loud in the kitchen. Regardless, he runs a big enough business and makes good money, enough to keep MK as an employee despite MK’s many missteps.

Tang learns, through snippets of conversations, that MK lives upstairs. Pigsy gave him the job and the room. MK doesn’t talk of his parents, or any of his family really, but he has a friend, Mei.

Mei is as loud as MK is, and she’s familiar in the same way Pigsy. These people he meets at the noodle shop who come for company just like he does, lives slotting into each other with ease. Talking to them is like picking up a conversation left off a thousand years ago, stumbling only for a second before falling into the familiar groove.

Tang slowly learns the group dynamic, learns that MK’s parents haven’t spoken to him since he was kicked out, that Mei stays as far away from her home as she can for as long as possible, that Pigsy has nothing to his name besides his shop and himself.

Sees the family, the foundation, centered around the little hole in the wall restaurant, and keeps himself rooted, just for a little while.

The shop is closed every third Sunday of the month. That is the only day that it is consistently closed. Pigsy works seven days a week, twelve hours a day, without fail, except for that third Sunday. Tang forgets, one month, and catches Pigsy heading out in the early morning.

“What, forgot you can’t steal food today?” Pigsy greets him with a frown that softens into something like a smile.

“Maybe I don’t come for the food,” is Tang’s snappy reply, and he watches with satisfaction as Pigsy pauses, thinks, and then turns a dusty rose color.

Turns out, Pigsy’s ears blush with his cheeks. “Anyway, going on a walk? I might join you,” he turns.

Pigsy stares at him, as if he can’t tell if Tang is serious or not, before he sticks his hands in his pockets and starts walking. “I’m going shopping. Don’t get in my way,” is the response, and Tang takes it for the acceptance of the company that it is, and catches up to Pigsy with ease, stepping in time with him.

The perks of having long legs.

Tang watches as Pigsy charges his way into the market, eyes sharp for the best ingredients, the ripest vegetables—or, the vegetables soon to be ripe, to save for the later weeks. He gets a practiced amount for every ingredient that goes into his food.

“Have to get the meat weekly, but the produce can last if I make it,” Pigsy explains, and Tang nods.

“That makes sense. I never notice a drop in quality, regardless of the week,” he comments.

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure anything tastes great to a freeloader,” he grumbles.

“I’ll have you know I have a refined palette,” Tang huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pigsy laughs then, raucous and loud, a sound Tang has never heard from him before. His heart pitter-patters quickly in his chest, and he thanks everything that his scarf hides his face and that Pigsy is short enough to not be able to spot his blush.

“Okay, wise guy,” Pigsy’s voice draws him back in. “You ever cooked yourself a meal before, then?” He elbows Tang gently, or as gentle as Pigsy is able to be, and Tang stumbles a bit before replying.

“Well…,” his voice alludes to the obvious answer, and Pigsy laughs at him all over again.

Tang decides he likes the sound.

A few months after Tang has cemented his spot at the noodle bar, Pigsy goes to usher him out of the shop one evening as he closes for the night and stops, right before heading up the stairs. He turns to Tang with an unplacable look.

“Where are you even staying?” Pigsy asks. “Not a resident, I think I’d’ve noticed a newcomer that was moving in.”

Tang shrugs at the thought. “Wherever.”

Typically, he’ll head out to a busy bar and ingratiate himself to someone, convince them to let him join their party, and sleep on a random couch. He’s always gone before anyone wakes up, to be sure he misses the questions that would come from the house’s inhabitants. If he can’t manage that, well, he’s not above sleeping on a bench somewhere. It isn’t cold out yet, so he doesn’t worry about it.

Tang very well could get an apartment, with the amount of money he has saved. He could, but then he’d be trapped.

He’d have to say that he’s settling down, that a place is going to become home. And no place has really been home, not since his parents died and he walked through empty hallways and empty rooms that once meant something and now meant nothing to anyone besides himself. He’d sold the house, stored the memories away, burned the rest and ran before the smoke cleared.

How could he stay, when there was nothing left? He’d settled in for the long hall, cemented himself as something soft like the earth, and then it had been ripped away from him like roots, tearing up the soil and leaving a mess in its wake.

So he became stone, and left without a word.

Pigsy stares at him, something almost like concern on his face. Tang watches Pigsy’s eyes glance up towards the stairs, and then back to him. Deliberating. Tang tilts his head to the side, ever curious about the concern. He knows Pigsy cares, and he knows Pigsy, beyond the gruff exterior, is pretty soft, but he’s surprised by this development. He didn’t think that care would be extended to, in Pigsy’s words, a freeloader.

Then, Pigsy sighs.

“I’ve got a couch, if you’re interested,” he says, and Tang

Tang just follows Pigsy up to his apartment. There’s a hallway at the top of the stairs, a door they pass by that Tang can hear pop music playing in.

“MK’s place,” Pigsy says, before Tang can ever ask the question.

They reach Pigsy’s apartment door, at the end of the hall, and head in.

It’s a cluttered space. Well, everything save for the kitchen is cluttered. The kitchen is pristine, so much so that the rest of the apartment pales in comparison. It’s not dirty, there’s no trash or dishes left out, but there are just random items, magazines, cookbooks strewn about the rest of the living space.

“Sorry about the mess.” Pigsy says as he pulls off his chef’s hat and coat, hanging it up by the door. He takes off his dress shoes, and pulls out a pair of slippers from a bin, putting them to walk on the carpet. He glances back at Tang expectantly. Tang pulls off his scarf and hangs it up.

“It’s no problem. I wasn’t an expected guest, I’m guessing?”

Tang takes off his shoes and pulls a pair of slippers from the bin. He isn’t surprised by the kitchen being clean, but he is a bit confused by the clutter. Pigsy takes care to keep his work space pristine, scrubbing it to sparking at the end of each work day. Perhaps this is a product of that, and Pigsy just is too tired to care as much in a space that is more his than it is his profession.

Somehow, that makes Tang concerned. He can’t pinpoint why.

Pigsy pulls off the random items from the couch, throwing them aside but scattering them further. He grunts in response to the rhetorical question.

“I’m gonna get a pillow and blanket. Don’t break anything.” Pigsy trudges off, and Tang looks at the clutter, and then at the perfectly good, half empty bookshelf.

By the time Pigsy gets back, Tang is sliding the last book onto the shelf. There’s still the other items that are less easy to categorize, but Tang would be remiss if he left perfectly good reading material to collect dust on the floor.

Pigsy opens his mouth to say something, and then abruptly closes it. He tosses the pillow and blanket on the couch.

“Uh...bathroom’s down the hall on your left. Night.”

Then, he vanishes into his room.

Tang finishes cleaning, and then goes to bed himself.

It becomes part of the routine. Pigsy never demands he come upstairs, but he never shuts the door on Tang, either, and Tang will never shoot down a free place to stay. Pigsy gets used to him, even. Sees Tang sitting on the couch, makes dinner, hands Tang a plate whatever it is and drops down on the couch to watch TV.

If it isn’t making fun of trash TV, Pigsy screams at cooking shows.

“You can’t just throw onion in it and expect it to work out!” he shouts.

Tang laughs. “Very bold from the guy who only serves one type of dish.”

Pigsy turns red. “I can make other food!” The argument is sound.

“I know,” Tang assures him, taking a bite of the steak salad Pigsy prepared. It’s the best he’s ever tasted. “You just choose not to, which I don’t understand. Why only noodles?”

The question throws Pigsy off guard, and Tang waits patiently for him to collect his thoughts. Finally, Pigsy sighs.

“They’re what I like to eat, I guess. Besides, if I made a full scale restaurant, I’d hafta get more cooks, hire waiters, ugh,” Pigsy looks disgusted just thinking about it. “The kitchen’s my place, I don’t trust any two bit cook to get it. I mean, just look at the ones on TV!”

He gestures to the television, as if Tang hasn’t been watching. Tang nods, glances at the screen anyway. “I like how the shop is. It’s small, but it’s good. Bigger doesn’t mean better.”

At that, Tang has to laugh. “You would think that,” he responds, and at Pigsy’s confused look, he gestures to Pigsy’s stature.

“Shut up,” Pigsy says with a blush. Tang can’t stop laughing, and Pigsy cracks a smile.

Living with Pigsy, Tang finds out, means dealing with all of Pigsy. This includes the moments where Pigsy can no longer keep a lid on his already hair-thin temper.

The clutter of the house suddenly makes sense when he comes up to the apartment to see Pigsy throwing books around the room, raging face red and pained and furious in a way Tang has never seen before.

“Bastards!” Pigsy shouts, voice hoarse.

He’s been clearly shouting for a while. His knuckles are bruised, and Tang spots a few dents in the wall.

“I’ll kill em! I-,” He freezes, upon seeing Tang standing by the door.

Tang watches as Pigsy reigns in his rage, somehow, forcing his shoulders to drop, standing up straight, letting out a breath. It looks painful.

“I see something’s bothering you,” Tang comments, direct and gentle as one can be when trying to talk to someone on the precipice of blind rage, as Pigsy breathes heavily.

“Leave.” Pigsy spits it out with a vitriol that is not aimed at Tang, but at something Tang isn’t a part of.

Tang knows this, and he won’t let Pigsy drown in it. He stands still, as the storm rages in blue eyes.

“No,” he is stone, hands clasped together. Pigsy grits his teeth, clenches his fists. The wave rises and crashes down.

“GET OUT!”

It’s loud enough to make Tang wince, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

At that, Pigsy goes boneless, slumping down on himself. Tang steps forward, carefully, quietly, and directs Pigsy to the untouched couch.

Untouched because it’s Tang’s bed, Tang’s space. Because Pigsy would only destroy himself and his things, would only rage at the things he deems worthy, and Tang wonders, why does Pigsy think himself worthy of this hatred, the anger that sits in Pigsy’s heart?

Pigsy sinks into the cushions. Tang takes his bruised hands and holds them, letting Pigsy breathe.

“MK’s folks,” Pigsy finally spits out. “They found out the kid’s got a good job and an okay place, and now they want a cut of his earnings.”

The tone of Pigsy’s voice is nothing short of derisive, and Tang understands the fury now. It’s funny, that he knows Pigsy enough to tell the difference between rage that’s performative and fury that’s real, but it’s not that hard for him.

Fury like this comes from care, and there is no one Pigsy cares more about than MK. MK, the boy with the sunshine smile who likes Monkey King and drawing and will work himself to death for anyone’s approval.

“I’d have told em to shove it, but MK’s got a soft heart, and they told him it was paying back for all the trouble they had raising him.” Pigsy laughs, and it’s very, very bitter. “Like they raised him. Mei probably was a better parent than they were, and she’s his age. Bastards.”

Tang swallows the information, takes a deep breath. He wouldn’t consider himself easily angered, but this? This makes him furious. He doesn’t express his fury like Pigsy does, isn’t destructive, is cold and quiet and deadly. But he saves that for later, for when he can look up MK’s parents and figure out how to ruin them when it comes to their jobs, their social standings, their lives.

“Technically, that could be charged as harassment,” he suggests.

Pigsy snorts at that, at least.

“Yeah, but MK’s only 17. He’s turning 18 in a few months, but until then they could drag him back, charge me with kidnapping, ruin his whole life just because he isn’t their fucking lap dog,” The rage returns, and Tang watches as Pigsy carefully clenches his fists, as if he were too quick about it he could hurt Tang.

It strikes Tang, then, that he has never been afraid that Pigsy would hit him. It never crossed his mind. Because how could it?

“I’m gonna commit a felony,” Pigsy mutters.

Tang snickers. “I’ll drive,” he responds.

Pigsy looks up at him, and Tang hopes the expression on his face bleeds the sincerity he feels.

“As if I’d let you anywhere near the driver’s seat of my car,” Pigsy smirks as he says it, and he relaxes a bit more, the anger draining out of him like water through a sieve.

Tang wasn’t aware that he was tense himself, but he relaxes a bit, too.

“But you’ll get blood on the steering wheel. And besides, it’s no fun not having a criminal record. I ought to start it sometime, right?”

“You don’t know anything about me, if you think this’ll be the beginning of my record,” Pigsy half laughs.

Tang shrugs. “You’re right. But, I’d like to.”

Pigsy looks up at him, then, the red in his face smoothing to something dusty and rosy and beautiful. Tang looks away first. “But, first, you need some ice and bandages for your hands.” He gets up to grab it.

When he comes back, Pigsy tells him all about the boy who would come in with exact change for the cheapest bowl of noodles, once a week every Friday. How the boy would ramble on and on about everything, and Pigsy would listen out of politeness, and somehow that turned to a fondness he couldn’t shake. How that boy came rushing in, half soaked in the rain, hiding out just for the moment before he was going to keep running. How Pigsy had thrown caution to the wind and moved mountains to get the kid to stay.

Tang listens, disinfecting the areas on Pigsy’s knuckles that are cut instead of just being bruised. He wraps them, gentle, and places ice on both. Even then, he doesn’t let go of the hands, lets them settle in his grip like they’d always belonged there.

“You’re a kind person, you know,” he says, when Pigsy is done. And he means it, too, thinking of MK alone on the streets, thinking of MK turning out like he did but without the funds to support him, a drifter with nothing and no one. It makes his stomach churn.

“Nah,” Pigsy shrugs his shoulders. “Just had a lot of time to get into practice with it.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Tang lets the conversation end, and turns on the TV. He cleans up the room when Pigsy falls asleep.

Pigsy makes him noodles the next day, without comment. Tang smiles and eats.

A lot of people miscategorize Pigsy as fire. Tang would like to propose a different point of view.

When he sees Pigsy, he sees the sea.

The ocean is never calm, but it can fall into a rhythm. Small waves, rippling waters. Crashing against the obstacle that is land, constantly pushing, constantly trying, constantly moving.

Pigsy will rage like a storm, he will shine like water in the sun, and he will fall into a rhythm as he works. He will push back against the rock that is indifference, and, like the ocean, he surrounds anything and everything, connecting every person he comes into contact with, as if they were the continents themselves. He ebbs and flows, forcing himself into the issues that plagues those he cares about, and yet pulls back and gives them space, never demanding anything other than their time, if they could give it.

The ocean is not harsh, nor is it merciful, but it is a force of nature all the same. And, if you weather its storms, it will carry you wherever you need to go.

And Tang sees a man who gives MK a reason to stick around when all MK wanted to do is run, Tang sees a man who never lets Mei skip a meal regardless of her status and wealth, Tang sees a man that makes sure Tang has a warm and safe place to stay, and sees the ocean carrying battered ships to shore.

Learning about MK’s family has opened up certain topics. Tang knows it’s only a matter of time before Pigsy asks about his life. That doesn’t stop him from stiffening, from going stone faced, when Pigsy finally brings it up.

“I don’t hear you talk about your folks,” Pigsy mentions offhandedly.

When he turns around and sees the expression on Tang’s face, he frowns.

“No,” Tang responds.

He says nothing else. Pigsy doesn’t press. Just turns back to making dinner. And Tang stares at his reflection in the teacup. He takes a sip. It burns his tongue, but he doesn’t feel it.

“They died. Nearly two years, now,” he finally says, and it’s like dropping a weight off of his shoulders.

Pigsy grunts in acknowledgment. Doesn’t give him the sad stare, the ‘oh I’m so sorry’, he just glances back with something softer than pity and closer to empathy.

Somehow, it lessens the dull ache in his chest.

“They good ones?” Pigsy asks.

Tang smiles, just a little. “Yes,” he breathes, and it hitches, thinking about how they pushed him forward, how they never demanded but always encouraged. Tang wasn’t good at making friends, not close ones anyway. But that never mattered, because his parents were there.

And now…

“Mine are gone too,” Pigsy says, after some time and mostly as an afterthought. “It ain’t easy, dealing with it.”

Tang huffs a wet laugh, pushing up his glasses to wipe his eyes.“No, it isn’t,” He responds.

Pigsy slides a bowl yanduxian soup, with some some skewers of meat, and sugar coated haws for dessert. Quite the array of a meal. Pigsy sits across from him, and starts in on his own meal.

Tang eats. It’s the best he’s ever tasted, as always.

Looking up at Pigsy, something in his chest warms. He thinks about his parents and it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

“I think they’d have liked you, if you’d met them,” he says, softer than he feels, because he’s never said anything about love but this is as close as he can get.

Pigsy looks up, cheeks glowing, and he smiles and Tang melts, just a little.

The apartment becomes lived in. During one of their shopping trips, Pigsy gets Tang a different outfit, muttering something about Tang needing something to wear when his clothes are being washed. Two outfits becomes three, becomes four, all hung up right beside Pigsy’s sleep shirts and chef coats. Tang gets his own toothbrush.

He buys himself books and they fill up the empty space on the bookshelves. He buys alcohol, stores it in Pigsy’s fridge and laughs off the comments about his poor taste in baijiu. He was never one to settle in, he never thought he could again, but slowly Pigsy’s apartment becomes their apartment and the change in his mind as he thinks of it leaves him wide eyed and spiraling.

Pigsy takes it all in stride, greeting Tang in the morning with something on his face that looks...pleased? Tang doesn’t understand it, and yet it makes his face feel warm when he thinks about it.

The winter months roll in, because while they have a weather tower to regulate weather it does not mean that they can ignore the need for seasons, and the apartment becomes colder.

“Do you not have A/C?” he curls up tight, beneath his blanket, and still shivers.

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you didn’t freeload all the time, I could afford to use it!”

Later, Tang will find this all as a facade. He knows Pigsy would never blame him for being without the funds to pay for heating. In fact, the noodle shop does better in the winter months, because of the desire for warm, filling food to combat the chill. He will later find out that Pigsy forgoes the A/C in his apartment to save up money to give MK a yearly Christmas bonus, both as a present and so MK can heat up his room.

In the moment, however, he just turns away with a huff.

Pigsy sighs. “The bed’s warmer,” he says.

Tang stares, blankly, until it finally hits him what Pigsy is suggesting. “Why, you cad! Trying to bed me when we’ve barely courted!” He leans back on the couch dramatically.

“Shut up!” Pigsy looks very flustered, and Tang grins, leading Pigsy to snap some more. “You were the one complaining about being cold!”

Tang sips his tea, and shrugs. Pigsy turns back to dinner to hide his blushing face.

That night, he moves to sleep in Pigsy’s bed. It’s a pretty large one, it isn’t as if there isn’t room for the both of them. The move is purely practical, after all.

Pigsy sleeps in a tank top and boxers. Tang wonders if the tank top is for his sake. They both get in the bed very stiff, neither wanting to acknowledge what’s happening. Tang curls up under covers, back to Pigsy. The bedroom is indeed warmer. Tang imagines the small heater sitting in the corner is likely the reason.

He turns his head. Pigsy is already asleep, trails of light from the outside signs segmenting his face. He’s snoring. He looks calm.

Tang stares for longer than he thinks he should, before he lets his eyes slide shut.

It becomes routine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As whole, as Tang reminisces on the moments bringing him to his position, he’s quite glad he decided to stick around. It’s a strange place, this city, full of danger and mystery, now that MK is the monkie kid, now that the demons are free, but at the same time little has changed, and that is something Tang can appreciate. Every morning he settles at the noodle shop and lets life continue, predictable, comfortable.

And maybe that’s his mistake. That he thinks he can coast forever. The sea is many things, but predictable is not one of them.

The downfall starts when Mei mentions that one of her aunts has been trying speed dating.

“She made the mistake of signing up for the straight couple’s night. She told me that when she realized, she left faster than the speed date itself!” Mei taps her fingers on the noodle bar, giggling along with MK at the thought.

“Speed dating doesn’t make sense. I mean, how can you figure out if you like someone in a minute?” MK crosses his arms over his chest and ponders.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I knew I liked you in sixty seconds,” Mei boops Mk on the nose, and he laughs, before making a face. There’s a mixture of emotions there—disgust, confusion, fear?

“Yeah, but that’s different. We’re friends,” he stresses that last word, looking at Mei expectantly. “Just friends.”

“Well, duh! I was just saying,” Mei rolls her eyes.

Tang watches the tension roll out of MK like a breeze. He wonders...but will never waste an opportunity to snark, so he sets the thoughts aside for a moment and leans back on the counter.

“I’m sure I could charm anyone in sixty seconds. Where is this happening, exactly?” he asks.

Mei gives him a look. “I’m pretty sure speed dating isn’t for people who are already taken,” she tells him, and Tang blinks, confusion painting his features.

“What do you mean?” he asks.He jumps when Pigsy’s knife slams hard against the wood of the cutting board, harder than normal.

Tang frowns. “Pigsy, you alright?”

“Peachy,” Pigsy growls out, from the kitchen.

Tang stares, before shrugging it off. Pigsy’s moods aren’t entirely predictable, after all, and it isn’t as if anything terrible has happened today. Pigsy’s cooking smells as heavenly as ever.

He turns back to Mei and MK, but they’re disappearing out the door, MK with the next batch of deliveries in hand. Tang tilts his head to the side in confusion, before shrugging.

Oh well.

Pigsy is still stilted, when they head upstairs that night. He’s quiet during dinner, quiet after dinner, and instead of watching TV he goes back to the kitchen to make a dessert. Tang follows, sitting at the kitchen island, watching how Pigsy shuffles about, glancing occasionally at a recipe. Cocoa powder, flour, eggs, different ingredients come out. The oven is preheated.

“Something’s clearly bothering you,” Tang says, finally.

Pigsy stiffens. Runs a hand down his face. Sighs.

He keeps working, throws the dessert in the oven, sets a careful timer.

Tang waits, and waits.

The kitchen is silent, save for the ambience.

“What is this, Tang?” Pigsy’s voice is hard, hands resting on the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched as he finally speaks up. He sounds exhausted, from days and days of work. Tang frowns. “You steal food from my shop, you sleep in my house—you live with me, for pete’s sake, you—what is this that we have?”

And Tang, Tang doesn’t know what to say.

“Is this even something?”

He’s basked in the freedom to be himself, with Pigsy. A label defines, a label makes you inseparable. Tang comes and goes as he pleases, he doesn’t get pinned down, he’s one and alone, with Pigsy by his side.

He has called himself a ‘father figure’ to MK, but that is inherently different. There’s a degree of separation, with that label. He can still leave, and MK will not be too bereft. MK has others, Tang is just one. Pigsy wants more than that, he doesn’t want the separation, and Tang is always unsure.

“I just—” And there’s something quiet and breaking in Pigsy’s voice.

Tang says nothing.

“Whatever you want from me, Tang, you have it. I’ll-I’ll give you everything, just—”

Blue eyes, like the constant tide of the ocean, meet earth in Tang’s brown ones.

Tang is afraid he could erode.

If he stayed.

What would he become, if he shifted his foundation?

“Is there a point to this?” Pigsy asks. “Or am I just something you keep around? To say you have one?”

Tang knows that he is a man of words, of stories, knows he is Triptaka, is Tang Sanzang, and myriad others placed in the body of a single man, knows he has more knowledge in an inch of his brain than most gain in their entire lives, but he has nothing to say now.

His thoughts halt at the wounded expression on Pigsy’s face.

More than just anger and softer than just hurt, settled between an aching heart and a broken one.

“I…,” he starts, and then his mouth clicks shut, because he is, before and now, a coward eventually.

Whether he is captured by demons or putting his foot down against others’ bad behavior, he falters. And he is terrified, because the swell of his heart, the affection that warms him enough to burn, is too much to bear, to articulate.

So instead, he says nothing at all.

And he knows he’s erred, because Pigsy turns his back as the timer dings.

He pulls the set of mini cakes from the oven, sets them down on the counter with forced gentleness. Tang flinches at the harsh bang of the oven closing. Watches Pigsy’s chest rise and fall with harsh breaths that hitch with an emotion Tang can’t place, before Pigsy swallows, steels himself, stills. Clenches his fists as if readying himself for a fight. Tang doesn’t know what the battle is, wonders what side he’s on.

“Forget it.” He hears, finally, and Tang feels his heart jump in his throat.

The words sound like a relent, like something giving way. It strikes him like a spear through the chest, and he suddenly finds it hard to breathe.

The mini cakes cool in a few minutes, but it may as well be hours with how silent and still the kitchen is, and Pigsy sets one on a plate for Tang, placing it in front of him with a fork. Chocolate lava cake, something Tang had mentioned off handedly as an interesting dessert to try. Of course Pigsy remembered. Why wouldn’t he?

Pigsy vanishes into his room. The door slams shut. Tang eats.

It’s the best he’s ever tasted, like always.

He sleeps on the couch. It’s cold.

Pigsy doesn’t open the shop, the next day. Tang leaves early in the morning, before breakfast, to give him some space, and comes back from his leisurely morning walk to a closed sign hanging on the door. Unlike the last time, MK waves at Tang, hopping down the stairs excitedly. Pigsy gave him the day off, because Pigsy isn’t feeling well, apparently.

Tang sees the worried lines in MK’s expression and promises he will make sure Pigsy is okay. MK runs off, to meet Mei at the arcade, and Tang heads up the stairs. He passes MK’s apartment door and stands in front of Pigsy’s door.

He knocks.

“Pigsy?” He calls, loud enough that he can’t be missed. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

Silence.

Tang doesn’t know how to handle rejection, didn’t think it possible, from Pigsy. In the two years they’ve known each other, he has never been rebuffed. Has never been told, in no uncertain terms, to leave. Pigsy has shouted it without heat, before, but it has never rang true.

He stands outside the door for twenty minutes, trying to swallow something akin to fear crawling up his chest, as he slowly realizes the door isn’t going to open. He waits another ten minutes after that, processing the realization, the pain in his chest.

“Alright,” He says, finally, and he prays Pigsy doesn’t hear how his voice shakes. “Get well soon. I’ll see you in the shop.”

He should demand to be let in. He should kick down the door, do something. Be bold, be brave, courageous.

But he never was a fighter, so he turns on his heel, and leaves what is left of their relationship on the welcome mat.

He walks through the city, again, because he has nothing better to do now. There is no comfort from stepping into the noodle shop and feeling like home. There is no barstool with his name on it, no random bowl of noodles appearing at his seat inconspicuously, no begging for a story from MK, no fond looks from blue eyes in the kitchen.

Tang had settled into routines and expectations. The rug has been pulled from beneath his feet as he tries to grasp the idea that the comforts have crashed into dysfunction. He tracks every minute of the two years he’s spent here, tries to trace the beginning of the end like a true crime investigator, and still, he can’t decipher why the equilibrium shattered.

Change is a product of existence, Comes a memory from his days as a monk. You must let life flow like a river, accepting the directions it will take.

But Tang isn’t a monk anymore, and he is not flowing like a river or any such nonsense that sounds far more like what Sandy would say. He is analytical, he is intelligent, he is knowledgeable. Despite all of that, he is stumped by this situation, by what he is to do.

The answer, of course, is the simplest, but Tang is pretending not to be ignoring it, because acknowledging the solution means making a choice he can’t undo. To decide if he wants this to be set in stone. Can he tie himself down like this, can he make that choice to stay, forever if it comes to it?

At the same time, hasn’t he already? Just a day without being able to go into the noodle shop leaves him aimless. A day without Pigsy and he is lost, without much to do or see. He has centered himself about the warm air of noodles and the gruff smile of the chef making them.

And that is so, so terrifying. When you give everything, when someone is your everything, what happens when they leave? He’s dealt with that enough with his parents, and to become a pair, to be a part of something, he doesn’t think he has the strength for it.

But Pigsy gives and gives, and promised Tang everything, if only Tang would stay. And Tang is a coward, but not enough to ruin something so simple, so kind, and so honest.

He makes a decision, and heads to the bank.

The next day, the noodle shop opens. Tang is there when it does, settling into his barstool without fanfare. He follows Pigsy’s movements with sharp eyes, notes the rumpled form of his shirt, how his pants aren’t tucked into his dress shoes, how his feet shuffle against the tile instead of stomping with purpose. Pigsy moves slow, turns to look at Tang and has bags under his eyes—or could they be red from crying? Tang isn’t sure.

His heart aches, as Pigsy regards him with something like heartbreak. Pigsy says nothing, turns back to his work, and Tang watches.

Step one.

He heads to the market between the lunch and dinner rushes, picks out the ingredients from memory. He’s walked with Pigsy enough times to know what it is that he has to get. He comes back to the shop with an armful of grocery bags, heading upstairs to their apartment. Pigsy never locks it during the workday, and Tang uses that fact and knowledge to his advantage.

He has no idea how to do this, but he chops the vegetables and meat and sets the water to boil. Brings forth the memories of two years of watching Pigsy make the same thing over and over, and maybe looks up a recipe or two on his phone for reference.

By the time Pigsy comes upstairs, when the shop closes, it’s ready. Tang pours the servings into two bowls, and nearly jumps and drops everything when the door opens.

“Welcome home,” he says, braver than he feels.

Pigsy stares at him, at the bowl of steaming broth, and sets his chef’s hat on its hook. He pulls off his shoes, puts up his chef’s coat, leaving him in a t-shirt and slacks.

Tang watches Pigsy’s movements instead of thinking about how to approach the situation. He gets a little distracted, until Pigsy hops up onto one of the island chairs, pulling a bowl towards himself. Tang sits across from him, waiting for Pigsy to take a sip.

Pigsy takes the chopsticks offered, as well as the spoon. He takes a sip. His face remains carefully neutral.

Tang takes a sip a few moments after. He promptly sputters into his bowl, and laughs.

“God, this is terrible!” he can’t stop laughing, and he can see a smile peeking at the edges of Pigsy’s mouth. “I tried to make it like yours, but I guess I’m coming up short,” he glances at Pigsy, looks him up and down.

Pigsy’s face is dusted with a pleased blush. “Shaddup. And hey, it ain’t worse than my first attempt at cooking.”

Tang snorts at that one. “I doubt that. But, do tell. I don’t think you’ve ever told me why you decided to become a cook in the first place, anyway.”

This is the start. Tang makes Pigsy a meal, and Pigsy tells him a story.

That night, he sleeps next Pigsy, like usual, and traces the way the moonlight sets upon Pigsy’s face. He needs to do more. He needs to be more, and he’s pretty sure financial support would be somewhat helpful, so he schemes.

Step two.

A few days later, as the air between them settles into something like normal, he appears one afternoon, change in his pocket and bills in his wallet.

“A bowl of noodles, please.” He sets the money on the counter. It’s enough for at least three bowls of noodles, but that’s by design.

“Keep the change.” He evene winks, like it’s a joke

Pigsy eyes the money and then gets the most offended look on his face, as expected. Before he can make a move to either argue or even respond, Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and explains.

“Didn’t you know? This month is my charity month. I go to different establishments and pay to keep them afloat.”

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Pshh, I don’t need your charity to keep this place runnin’! Pigsy’s Noodles is a thriving establishment,” he rebuffs.

“So you’re refusing my service?” Tang responds, like a challenge.

He raises a brow, and watches as Pigsy gets redder and redder.

“One bowl of noodles, coming right up,” Pigsy manages through gritted teeth.

Tang hides a laugh behind his hand as Pigsy scoops up the money and grumbles, shoving two of the bills into the cash register and one into the tip jar.

Because MK had been bemoaning a lack of sketchbook paper, a lack of money for replacing such, and just like every time MK talks about something he wants, off handed or to complain because that’s how he deals, Pigsy will take some of the money that should go to the shop into the tip jar when MK doesn’t look, smiling to himself when MK excitedly realizes that, thanks to the tip jar, he can get what it was he thought he couldn’t—

Because Pigsy gives and gives and gives, pieces of himself scattered across and holding together the people he’s chosen to keep close, regardless if Pigsy is the one who ends up falling apart in the end, and Tang wants to fill up the spaces that Pigsy has lost from his generosity.

Tang takes his bowl of noodles and smirks, like he’s won. That night, when they’re sitting on the couch and watching TV, Pigsy leans his head on Tang’s shoulder.

“You coulda just said you wanted to start payin’ rent,” he mutters.

Tang snickers. “Where’s the fun in that? You got so red, I thought you were going to become a tomato.”

At that, Pigsy sits up.

“I’ll show you a tomato—c’mere!”

Maybe it’s a bit dangerous to challenge someone who knows all of your ticklish spots. Tang laughs until he cries, and concedes to Pigsy’s victory.

Step three doesn’t really register. He doesn’t think about it, because the first two steps have brought him back into that comfortable routine. Maybe he might have fallen into the same bad habits, if not for his hyperawareness of Pigsy’s moods in the following weeks. He doesn’t want to miss something, like he did before. He wants to be attentive, be kind.

He wants Pigsy to never again think of or ask the questions he did, that night. He wants Pigsy to know, immediately, what they are. Even if Tang is afraid to define it.

It’s a typical day at the shop, but Pigsy is a bit more tired than normal. Some days, this happens. Pigsy would never hire another chef, even though he has enough business to afford it, and being the only cook in a bustling restaurant means little breaks and consistent exhaustion.

Tang still makes them dinner, most nights. He tries a new recipe each day, because why not? Pigsy takes to each one like a food critic, and his descriptions have Tang in stitches every time—

“I never thought you could turn broccoli into soup.”

“Okay, so I cooked it too long!”

“You liquified a vegetable! Without blending! That’s like...did you use magic on this? Tang, did you use magic on this.”

—He’s not a very good cook, yet, but Pigsy eats anything he makes anyway.

Today, Pigsy is already tired, and he clearly doesn’t have the energy to deal with an annoying customer.

He has to anyways.

“This isn’t what I ordered last time! I ordered your original noodle bowl two weeks ago, and it tasted far better than this!” The irate woman slams her empty bowl on the counter.

Tang wonders if she understands the irony of complaining about a meal she finished.

“Ma’am, I make every bowl of noodles the same. I’m the only cook here. You either ordered somethin’ else, or your taste buds changed in two weeks.” Pigsy isn’t polite to customers like these, but Tang has to commend him for holding back, for still calling her ‘Ma’am’. Tang has a few different names he’d call her.

“I know what I ordered, and my tastebuds didn’t change. You clearly made it wrong! I demand a refund immediately!” She shouts in his face.

Pigsy goes from pink to red. “Look, lady, you finished your meal. I ain’t giving you back the money for shit you ate.” He spits, and she leans back, aghast.

“The nerve!” She leans back, aghast. “I don’t know what I expected from a pig—”

She freezes as a pair of chopsticks sticks its way between the two angry faces.

“Excuse me,” Tang starts.

His glasses flash, and he doesn’t bother standing. His arm divides the space, as he leans back in his chair with a bowl in his free hand. He pushes her back, ignores the look of confusion on Pigsy’s face. “I suggest you get over yourself. This behavior certainly isn’t doing anything for your looks.”

The woman leans back, crosses her arms.

“And you are?” She hisses.

“I’m his partner,” Tang says, and surprises himself with how easily the title falls out of his mouth. “And you don’t get to talk to him that way. If anyone is acting in poor taste, it’s you.”

Pigsy’s face is slack, his eyes are wide, and the red of anger on his face has given way to the dusty rose Tang has come to expect as Pigsy’s blush.

The woman opens her mouth, finger raised. Tang raises his eyebrow in waiting. But then she huffs, turns on her heel, and leaves.

Tang doesn’t give her a second thought, turning back to his own bowl of noodles—which have tasted the same in the two years he’s been eating here, so she’s full of it, clearly—before glancing over at Pigsy, who is staring at him with eyes full of something.

He has never seen Pigsy’s eyes shine like that before.

His face warms, and he buries it in his scarf and bowl. Pigsy smiles, and turns back to work.

That night, they’re sitting on the couch after eating another concoction that could barely be called food— “You’re getting better at this.” “You don’t have to lie to me.” “Bold of you to assume I would spare your feelings when it comes to your cooking skills.”—and Pigsy’s hand slides away from his lap and rests on top of Tang’s. Casual.

“My partner, huh?” Pigsy says over the buzz of the television.

Tang flushes. “It seemed an appropriate word to use.”

“Sure.”

Pigsy’s voice holds a laugh, and Tang could leave it here, he could. It would be far too easy to settle, to let it fall complacent.

But Tang has let the ocean lap at his heels, and now all he wants to do is dive.

“Hey,” he turns Pigsy’s face towards his, and—

Pigsy’s lips are warm.

Pigsy’s eyes are blown wide, and Tang closes his quickly, worried about the response, worried about Pigsy’s reaction.

Dimly, in the back of his head, he thinks ‘It’s the best he’s ever tasted’ and he has to squash the laugh that bubbles up his throat, because it isn’t appropriate right now. Pigsy's snout practically crushes his nose, and the sharp hairs on his face prickle Tang's skin.

He breaks away. Pigsy’s smile is blinding, a rare event. His face is flushed, both of them are flushed and Tang fidgets with his glasses. There’s a beat of silence, as they stare at each other, before they both turn back to the TV to avoid the ever so awkward eye contact.

They watch whatever’s on, for a minute of crushing silence.

“Alright,” Pigsy finally sighs, long sufferingly fond, and he leans against Tang as if tang were his rock. The ocean crashes against the sea, and the rock stays steady. “Guess I’m stuck with you.”

Tang inclines his head so it’s resting on top of Pigsy’s. The rock erodes, and becomes something new. Moves with the ocean, given enough time.

“Where else would I get free food?”

Pigsy laughs.

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