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#because everyone disappears at the start of the chapter
yandere-sins · 2 days
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The Orcas' Tale - Krill's Story - Prologue
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So, because that first chapter became so damn long, I cut down the bit that was most separated from the rest! Please enjoy Krill's thoughts before we change over to a new perspective again (;
Fandom: Original Content   Warnings: Violence (Mentioning of ripping a throat out/backstabbing, Depiction of mental (childhood) abuse), Monsters (Mermaids), Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Mention of death
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"I can't believe this! It's outrageous—TWO sons gone! How could this happen, Krill?! You were supposed to guide them—to lead them! I told you to take care of them, and you couldn't even look after your brother and cousin! How will you ever care for your own pack?!"
My mother's rage echoed through the communal space; her questions screeched in the voice of a siren, causing them to hurt in my ears. Her words were spoken in the same way as a shark's teeth would rip through my skin—meant to harm and dominate. They left everyone in the cave silent except for my aunt, who kept weeping beside the matriarch. Had it been mating season, Nerrocan's and Lyr's disappearance could have been easily brushed off, but with how little interest both of them ever had in reproducing and it having been weeks without a sign from them, their disappearance really began to weigh on everyone. 
The other orcas witnessing my scolding were growing restless at my silence; the inability to respond quickly to the accusations thrown at me only confirmed their constant suspicions—I was incapable of the role they expected from me. The prospect of the next leader of the pack being incapable of doing the one thing I was forced to do my whole life made them lose faith not only in me but also the current matriarch who birthed me. They were whispering and discussing with each other on the quiet as if I had committed a grave sin that would make me unfit to lead. Even though they were fully aware that my reign would come to a quick end once I took a female as my partner to step up to the role of matriarch. All this talking, all the anger and frustration taken out on me, was just a show of power in the end. It didn't matter in the long run, neither to the pack's future nor to me. 
I should have been angry at Lyr and Nerrocan for putting me in this situation. For leaving me alone with all the burdens, they escaped so easily, never coming back to take me with them. I thought we were closer than that. That we'd stick together forever. But the chance of getting away must have been too freeing to resist, no matter what they had to leave behind to achieve it. If the same chance had arisen before me… I might have done the same. Leave behind this life of never being enough in the strict eyes of our mothers and the whole pack and start over far away. Do something worthwhile that wouldn't end with me cowering before the matriarch yet again, like the coward I was. A pack wasn't a place where you could achieve anything extraordinary unless you bowed your head and submitted to the nagging and pushing of expectations. And I, compared to the other two, had always been too afraid to take the leap, holding the two of them back with me so I wouldn't be alone. Until they slipped my grasp—a stupid, stupid mistake.
Just like my mother, those feelings nagged at me constantly. Permanently. Most likely until the end of my life. And there was no one to share them with anymore, as those exhaustingly painful emotions threatened to drown me.
"You'll find them and bring them back here immediately!" the matriarch finally ordered, too impatient to wait for my delayed response. With how I was taught my whole life, I understood her actions. She had to settle the pack, give them hope, and show them she had everything under control. She had to make this look like a stupid mistake of a child—even her own son—so she'd not lose the pack's trust in her capabilities. Especially with her worst opponent, her own sister, ready to take over the position at any moment. Even when family was everything to the pack, no one was safe from having their throat ripped out the moment they lowered their guard. There was no loyalty in a pack of fools.
"Oh, yes!" my aunt wept, her act so good despite having enough daughters to not need Nerrocan here to be called a worthy successor to my mother's reign. "Please, Krill! You have to bring my baby back home! Please!"
It must have been so much easier to leave, knowing you never left anything behind, really. Nerrocan didn't have to worry much about what others thought about him. He could hide behind his sisters and be a good boy just for fun. Perhaps things would have been different if I had sisters who were older or my age, too. I could have escaped the responsibilities and lived a free and happy life without repercussions for every little mistake I made in the matriarch's eyes.
"I will, Mother."
Raising my head and showing the pack a steadfast expression, I placed my hand over my heart, the gesture as shallow as it was a lie. I had no idea where the two rascals had gone, much less how I'd manage to track them down. There was no telling that I could find them, but maybe by the time I'd be too exhausted from the search, I'd have developed the courage to stay far, far away from the pack. 
Judging by the glare in the matriarch's eyes, there would be no home to return to unless I brought back the missing sons anyway. 
In her angry gaze, I noticed some doubt. For a moment, I imagined her worried that something could happen to me on this quest she sent me on. But when our eyes met, she must have known that my promise and gestures were all just for show. It hardened her feelings for me, which was for the better. We both knew I would never reach her expectations, no matter how long and hard I tried. Losing two young, efficient hunters for the pack was just the tip of the iceberg. It was better for her not to get disappointed when I'd inevitably fail the task she had given me, again. 
So when I slipped back into the water, my mother sent me off with a scoff, the whispers around me so loud, I couldn't hear my own thoughts. The cold wet was a welcome change of sounds, clearing my head for the first time since I entered that communal space. I'd become numb to the feeling of being unloved and unappreciated, so much so that it didn't face me what everyone thought of me. That's what I told myself. All I had to do was function, which was easier with a clear head. I thought back to the days before Nerrocan's disappearance, the funny human we rescued, and the way Nerrocan used to look at them. 
I wasn't stupid, even if I preferred to keep pushing away the nagging feelings that might have made me soft and even more worthless in the eyes of my mother. The two were too young to know the true horror of "love". But I was the oldest. I remembered looking at this special someone the same way that Nerrocan did with the human. I collected the shiniest stones in that small pool they held us in at that facility that Nerrocan's human wanted to go to so desperately, just so I could present these trophies to my mate. Just like Lyr now, who ransacked our treasure cave in just one night. 
Judging by how much Lyr could steal in that one night, he probably wasn't as far away as we thought. But the ocean was vast, he was a quick swimmer, and I couldn't think of a place he frequented that I should look for him. Nerrocan, on the other hand, I'd either never find him because he had been eaten by the fish all the time he'd been away or because he was back at that forsaken facility with the human. Both options made it impossible for me to ever retrieve one of them if not for sheer luck. I could have turned every stone upside down to find Lyr, who was objectively the better choice, but he was as good a hunter as I was, and unfortunately, he knew it. If he wanted to stay hidden, I'd not find him. And if he refused to come back, he might actually kill me to keep it that way.
As I turned towards the open ocean, I still lamented the fact that I'd not get to come home anymore. It was foolish to even try, but doing as I was told was all I'd ever known. I've been told how to hunt, behave, talk, act, and play all my life. My mother told me to take what I wanted, fight for what I wanted, and obey. So if she wanted to send me on a death mission, I had no choice. Compared to the other two, I didn't have a reason to betray the pack that had raised us, and no mate that I could call home, and so, I made my choice. 
And if I possibly could save even just one of those fools, then I'd wager my chances with the one that wouldn't kill me on sight. 
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cassidymb121 · 1 day
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OMG It’s You… (Part 10)
YouTube!Fem reader x Stray Kids
Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?
⚠️Warnings⚠️: sadness, crying, early stages of homesickness??, Chan being turned on🤭, (lmk if I missed anything)
🏷️ : @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
(Authors note at the end)
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Y/N’s POV
Hearing my alarm clock, I roll over to shut it off. I had a surprisingly restful night's sleep, although I needed to take a second melatonin as the first one didn't help. Fortunately, the airport is conveniently located near my accommodation, and the journey there should only take about 5-10 minutes. After reviewing my flight details, I realized the total travel time would be almost 19 hours. Despite the long journey, I'm relieved there's only one layover before I board the second flight to Seoul.
As I start getting dressed and closing up all my bags, I take one last look around the room, which has brought me comfort and has been the starting point of my journey. Leaving behind a place with special memories is always a bittersweet moment. I know I could still come back and visit, but for now, this was goodbye. I smile, happy that I'm going outside my comfort zone to do something I'm passionate about. As I look around, I bring my bags to the front door.
I had to wake up earlier than planned because my flight was unexpectedly early. My family decided to get up with me to give me a proper send-off. The others were coming to the airport to say one last goodbye. I walked into the kitchen and found my grandmother preparing breakfast for everyone. Seeing my grandfather awake was a pleasant surprise, as his sleeping pattern is usually worse than mine.
“I made breakfast for all of us to eat for the last time together.” I smile at her and thank her for the food. “You know, maybe sometime after I get settled in, you can visit. See South Korea with me. I can also come home anytime I want.” I take her hand and his in mine, I reassure them, "I'm not disappearing forever. I promise to visit as much as I can." They hold on tighter, expressing their sadness at not always seeing me. "I'll have to show him how to FaceTime you," my grandmother says.
“Hey! I know how FaceTime works.”
“Oh really? Then where is it on your phone?”
“Same place it's always been in.” Their playful behavior never fails to bring a smile to my face. I think I'll miss this the most.
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As I prepared to leave, my family gathered to spend some final moments with me. One by one, they came up to say their heartfelt goodbyes.“Hey, Y/N/N, you better not be a stranger now. I don’t want to come there myself to teach you a lesson.” I roll my eyes at my stepbrother’s goodbye. “I love you too, man.” My stepsister is next to come up and hug me. “Send me pictures, yeah? And let me know if you meet any cute guys over there. I wanna know all about it!” I smile, her not knowing I’m already talking to two of them. “Hey now! If you meet any guys, I’mma need their information. That means their name, date of birth, social security number, everything!”
“I’m not giving you anything!” I retort back to my stepbrother. He, in return, shakes his head. My grandparents come up next, giving me their hugs and goodbyes. “Make sure you don’t eat a lot of junk food; you must maintain weight and stay healthy.”
“I will, Nanny; I love you.” She smiles, giving me a tight hug for a small woman. “You take good care of yourself. Since we won’t always have you to help us, Y/B/N must do it for us.” At that comment, my stepbrother exploded, saying how he gets left with my responsibilities of caring for my grandparents and how I need to come back more often to help them. I ignore him and move on to my grandfather.
“You stay safe now, okay? I want you to be able to defend yourself in case someone breaks into your apartment. Do you have your stuff?” I nod, telling him I do and giving him a big hug. I am telling him to take care of himself, and if he ever feels up to it, maybe I can get him and my grandmother a trip over to see me. My dad comes up and pulls me into a hug.
“I want you to call me when you get there, okay? So that way, I know you made it there safely.” My dad tells me. I smile, “I’ll call you when I get there, but you have to remember that I’ll be in a different time zone, so it may be late into the early morning hours before I call.”
“I don't care what time it is; as long as I get a phone call from my baby that she’s okay, I’ll be happy.” I hug him long and hard. Being one of my biggest supporters since I was little, it’s hard to say goodbye to him. I could feel my tears starting to surface. Last is my stepmom; she’s already got tears in her eyes, and mine is beginning to fall. She pulls me into a hug, and the water dam breaks.
As I realize that I won't get to see these amazing people every day, doubts start creeping in about whether this was the right decision in the first place.
When she pulls back, it’s like she’s reading my mind. “I understand that it can be daunting to think about not seeing us every day. However, if you don't step out of your comfort zone, you'll never be able to explore the world as you've always wanted. You will surely be missed, and although your dad and I are homebodies, we'll come to visit you. We love you immensely and want nothing but the best for you. It's time to chase your dreams and become the person you've always wanted to be.” I nod my head and give her a tight hug.
I release her and gather my belongings, taking my first steps toward my new future. As I walk away, I look back at my family again. A stray tear rolled down my cheek as I bid them farewell with a wave. I turn back, holding my head high. I've committed myself to the fact that no matter what challenges come my way, I will never give up on pursuing my dream. Although my heart aches now, I know it will slowly heal with time.
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“Welcome to Seoul, South Korea! It is currently 2:30 pm on August 16th.” My sleepiness drowned out the rest of the words. I usually don't sleep on planes, but I did this time. I grab my bag from above, leave the aircraft, and move towards the baggage area. Once receiving my luggage, I headed toward the exit, stopping to find something to eat since all I'd had were airplane snacks.
I discovered a cozy restaurant with a promising menu and went to a table, taking a seat to enjoy my meal. I eagerly indulged, savoring each bite as if it were my last. It was a relief to have some time before officially starting my new job the following week, allowing me to settle in and get organized. While I've already started my new job, I don't have to be on-site until next week.
I had compiled a list of essential tasks, including unpacking, stocking up on groceries, and setting up my new apartment. At that moment, my next priority was to arrange for an Uber to take me to the apartment complex where I would be staying.
After finishing my meal, I disposed of the food container and took out my phone to track the arrival of the Uber. I made a mental note to call my Dad once I reached the apartment. When the Uber arrived, I confirmed the driver's name, and they assisted me in loading my luggage into the vehicle.
I provided them with the address, and upon reaching my destination, I expressed my gratitude and proceeded inside to complete the check-in process. The attendant was incredibly friendly, and the paperwork was swiftly handled, allowing me to receive my keys promptly. I lugged my belongings into the elevator and ascended to the fourth floor.
As I reached my apartment door, I eagerly swung it open and lugged all my belongings inside. After securing the lock, a deep sigh escaped my lips. The long flight had left me utterly drained. I quickly dialed my dad's number and left a voicemail, letting him know I had arrived safely. Collapsing onto the nearby couch, I felt the exhaustion wash over me.
Although the temptation to drift off to sleep was strong, I knew I had things to take care of. I reluctantly pushed myself off the comfortable couch, picked up my luggage, and carried it to my room. I was fortunate to have found a spacious two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a convenient washer and dryer combo.
I surveyed the array of living essentials I had recently acquired, realizing that I also needed to stock up on groceries. Choosing to address this need immediately, I retrieved my purse and keys and left my apartment, locking the door behind me. Having previously researched nearby markets, I headed to the closest one and embarked on a shopping trip that lasted 30 minutes to an hour.
Upon returning home with bags of groceries, I meticulously organized and stored each item in the kitchen. Subsequently, I assembled the furniture and set up my home office, methodically putting together the bed, nightstand, and desk. As I progressed through these tasks, everything seemed to fall into place seamlessly. However, as the day turned to evening and fatigue began, I succumbed to exhaustion.
After ensuring the door was securely locked, I went to the shower. I was thankful I had taken a shower earlier, as I was too tired to rewash my hair that night. Following my usual evening routine, I finally collapsed into bed. Before drifting off to sleep, I sent a good night message to my family, locked my phone, and surrendered to the beckoning of slumber.
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The week flew by, and I was pleased to find that the rest of my belongings had arrived in the same condition as when they were picked up. I made a mental note to thank the CEO of the moving company for their excellent service. My coworkers kindly came over to assist me in moving all the furniture upstairs and arranging it in the best possible positions.
I appreciated the support of others as I tackled the challenge before me. It was satisfying to see everything arranged just as I had envisioned. Adapting to the time change this week has been quite a feat. It's a new experience for me, and although it's been difficult, I'm confident I'll adapt in due time. I've taken the opportunity to explore, but I've been cautious as I don't know anyone here. Watching crime shows has made me more vigilant about my surroundings, and I'm hesitant to engage with unfamiliar individuals.
I could sense that the guys were starting to get suspicious of me because I'd changed my usual texting routine and avoided their calls. I know I'm not improving things, but I have a video next week to explain what's happening. I'm just holding out until the video is ready to be released. Until then, they will have to wait a bit longer.
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Third Person POV
The men had every reason to feel wary. It seemed as though she was privy to information that they were not. The other members could sense the shift in their elders, but none were willing to confront the issue. They chose to ignore the obvious problem rather than address it. Chan decided to step aside and call Y/N. He hadn't informed any of the others, especially Minho. He felt guilty for concealing such an innocent action but wanted to keep this secret longer.
Y/N had been behaving unusually lately. She confided in him that she was going through some changes that were causing her stress and exhaustion. He was concerned but didn't want to pressure her. When she answered his call after the second ring, she sounded cheerful as always. "Hi, Channie!" she greeted him with a tone that flushed his face at the affectionate nickname. "Hey, Y/Nnnie, how have you been? I haven't heard from you much," he inquired. Her laughter on the other end was sweet and infectious. "I'm doing fine. I was actually on my way to work," she replied. Confusion crossed his face. 'Work? Shouldn’t she be in bed by now?’ he inquires.
Not realizing she was calling for him. "What do you mean work? I thought you would be in bed by now?" Y/N freezes as she realizes her mistake. She berates herself, thinking, 'Stupid, stupid, stupid,' while hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Ah, well, I'm not uhh… I mean, I am I….URGHHH!” The moment her brain decides to take a break is precisely when she needs it the most. Chan is completely bewildered now, eagerly waiting for her response.
After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she finally admits something. “Look, there may have been some major changes in my life right now, and I wanted to surprise you when the time was right. I have a video coming out today that will explain everything. That's all I can tell you.” Chan nods his head, then forgets he isn't FaceTiming her. “Okay, love. I'll be patient and wait for your video. Afterward, I expect no more hiding things, okay?”
“Yes, sir, you have my word.” Chan shouldn't have been affected by those words, but coming from her, it felt like a shock just went through his body. “Anyways, I have to go, Channie; we’ll talk later, yeah?” After they said their goodbyes, Chan returned to the room with a huge smile and a semi-hard in his pants.
(A/N: I couldn't help myself; I had to do it. Also, I put in a sad, departing moment with the family. I hope you all enjoyed it and look forward to the next chapter!)
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twst-kumi · 1 day
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Weeping Maiden [ACT I] CHAPTER 9
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[ACT I] CHAPTER 9
Ambrose accompanied by Neige and Makoa was waiting for Vil in the Tree room. Neige was thinking about a way to erase his biggest love rival completely. He also needed to find a way to free [Name] from the curse Vil put on her. The headmaster couldn’t help but seethe in silence he had to keep himself from welcoming the NRC student with a punch in his face. How could he do that to someone as gentle as his foster daughter? They were waiting for Vil when Flora flew up to them. 
“_She disappeared! Ambrose, [Name] disappeared. 
_What? 
_When I came back to check on her she wasn’t in her room anymore.”
Without hesitation, the teachers and the young idol ran to the Royal Dawn to see an empty bedroom. Ash patted himself for this great idea. Hiding the girl was the best and the most successful plan. No one but her could make them move without thinking. With their attention on finding her, they can escort Vil to a safe place with her. While he and the mice were taking the young girl to safety, Aurelius and Alexis were in charge of the NRC’s student. 
Vil arrived in the tree room with a somber and worried face. Something happened to [Name] and he was the main suspect. She was okay when he escorted her to the school. She was doing alright. The young actor was waiting in the empty room when he heard a small noise on the side. Passing through a narrow passage, Aurelius and Alexis coughed a little before waving at the actor. Vil couldn’t help but look horrified at the sight of their dirty uniform and… rats?? Aurelius was holding a dirty-looking rat, the biggest and dirtiest rat ever seen. 
“_This way, Vil-senpai! I’m sorry but we don’t have much time before they come back. 
_What?? Who are you?”
Both freshmen pushed the reluctant young man toward the hidden passage. They tried to shove him inside while Vil was struggling to defend himself. Alexis was starting to lose patience with the actor and Aurelius trying to convince him to follow them in the hidden passage. Putting himself between both students, he gave the NRC student a fake polite smile before grabbing his arm. 
“_I’m sorry Vil-SENPAI!
_Wha-!
_Eat me, drink me.”
Vil didn’t have time to react as his size diminished and became small, he could fit in the palm. Alexis grabbed him and shoved him in his breast pocket before crawling back inside the passage. Vil couldn’t believe it, he was accused of harming a friend and now he was kidnapped by two students. Aurelius, feeling confused, decided to explain to him what was happening on the campus right now. 
“_I’m sorry if we had upset you but we are kind of in a hurry.
_Who are you two anyway?
_I’m Aurelius and my friend is Alexis, we are both classmates and friends with [Name].”
Vil perked up as he heard them mention the girl. 
“_Look I don’t know how it happens but I’m innocent.
_ We know, We came here to help you because [Name] asked us to.”
Gromeled Alexis as they followed the rat. They turned a corner and crawled deeper into the passage. Both were relieved to have the rat to guide them. It would have been hard for them to find their way in this labyrinth. 
“_Is she alright? What happened? 
_Can’t say she is doing well or bad. She is in a deep sleep
_Sleeping curse? 
_It’s not a curse but a potion. Neige is the culprit.”
Vil was stunned. Out of everyone, Neige is the last person he believed would do that. The other two also seemed as incredulous as him. Neige has always been a gentle and kind person. The actor wondered when and where the young Idol deviated and fell into darkness. 
Aurelius and Alexis crawled out of the tunnel and into a room before coughing. Their once clean and white clothes looked gray and light brown because of the dust and dirt in the passage. Ash chuckled when he saw them crawl out. Both students now knew why he was always dirty for school. The upperclassmen gave the rat a biscuit before turning his attention to them. 
“_Welcome back, where is Vil Schoenheit ?
_Here.”
Alexis pulled the Lilliputian-sized man and put him down. Vil grew back to his original size before dusting his shoulder. The actor greeted the young man before looking at [Name] on the bed. He walked up to her and started to examine her. Thankfully it was a low-grade potion. Although it was mixed with a powerful potion. Thank god, both potions worked independently. It was more likely the powerful one was given first. Right now, the most important thing to get rid of, is the sleeping potion. 
“_I will create an antidote, so could you gather the ingredients for me? Also, I will need a caldron so where is the alchemy room?
_ Don't worry about that!”
Ash took out something from under the bed. 
“_ Tadah! Your mini caldron!
_ It's a cooking pot.
_ You can brew things and you regulate the temperature by boiling it.” 
Vil was rendered speechless by the three smug RSA students. He really couldn't retort to that, and he was regarded as a criminal in RSA right now. So he couldn't just go to the alchemy classroom. As if the incidents happening around NRC weren't enough. Thankfully most of the students in Pomefiore weren't harmed but a lot of Magicshift players were hurt. 
“_ What about the ingredients?
_ Don't worry, we have the best helpers for it.” 
Ash said while designating some mice and little birds. He laughed when he saw Vil’s disgusted and unconvinced face. 
“_ Don't underestimate them, they are smarter than you think. Like the mice and birds who sew a young lady dress for a ball.
_ Alright, I will have to trust you that.”
Vil gave them the ingredient list and watched in shock as the mice held it and squeaked orders to the other small animals. They all scurried everywhere and disappeared in the mice hole and by the window. It didn’t take long for them to come back with the ingredients. Vil brewed the potion as Ash held [Name] up to help her drink more easily. The group stared with batted breath as the girl’s eyes fluttered open. 
“_ Taste like camomille…
_ [Name]!
_ Princess!”
[Name] laughed tiredly as she looked up at them. They all looked disheveled and dirty, it made her laugh. 
“_Did you guys roll in dirt or something? You all look like a mess.”
She groaned as both Aurelius and Alexis hugged her. Now that the tension was released, the two couldn’t stop the tears from spilling. It was at that moment, that a knock came to disrupt them. 
“_Ash? I know Vil is here. Could you open the door?”
Ash looked startled for a moment as they looked at the shadow under the door. They could tell who was there. Ash looked at the young girl who nobbed with a soft smile. Ash opened the door to a disappointed Neige and mad headmaster. Flora flew past him the moment she saw [Name] awake. She could tell how distressing the situation was to the old fairy. 
“_Oh, my princess! Are you alright?
_ I’m okay, but I think Neig has some explaining to do.”
At her word, everyone looked at the young boy. Neige shuddered as he staggered, his smile quivered under the girl’s cold stare.
“_ What-!
_ It’s the end, Neige. You have gone too far. So let me be clear, I never once loved you more than a friend.
_No way, you…
_This fact would never change, spell or not.”
Neige shook as he could feel everyone’s stare at him. It was overbearing. He couldn’t breathe as he felt everything around him falling apart. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, he had never once failed until now. Suddenly, it was like everything around him was black and murky. 
“_NEIGE!!”
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@cocomollo @owodi @illytian
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kalpasio · 2 years
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A Post Kalpas Odyssey
Goodbye Friends
A Kalpas x reader fic taking place in APHO chapter 7 below!
Carole was the first to go missing. You had no clue what happened. One second, she was fighting next to you, the next, she was gone. Mei went right after, and you realized Lucheni—or the armor he was using—was absorbing them. As soon as you caught on, you were gone.
Kalpas roared and took a chunk out of Lucheni, but it didn’t bring you back. He was in a blind rage and didn’t even notice Timido and Carys disappear. Pulling his fist back for another punch, he was thrown off balance, and understandably so. He’d been teleported to a field of the red crystals that covered False Bay. As soon as he found his footing, Kalpas was smashing through the crystals. If this was where you had gone, he would find you.
He ran into Mei, Adam, and Carole first, and they cost him several precious seconds trying to calm him down. Finally getting around Mei, Kalpas didn’t get more than a few steps before he found you. Carys and Bronya were with you, but that didn’t matter. You were safe.
There was no reunion hug, or shouting each other’s names, you just smiled at him, and instantly Kalpas let out a breath he’d been holding the whole time. Leaning back with a hand on his mask, he gave a sharp laugh in relief and finally let his shoulders drop. Sunita, Lyle, and Timido came through a crystal wall shortly after, but it wasn’t until you were next to him, and Mei was talking to Void Archives that Kalpas really noticed what was going on.
While you were by no means ignorant about the technology in the Moon Rings, no one, short of the doctors who made them, knew how they worked. So right now, as far as you were concerned, some blonde weirdo who tried to kill you was giving a lecture with a bunch of made-up words. What you did understand was the fact that your Moon Rings had been enhanced and you were able to break out of Lucheni’s prison.
Once out, you split into five pairs, Sunita didn’t even look at you before going with Carys, and that was fine by you. Once you and Kalpas reached the weak point on Lucheni’s head, you activated White Heat. Instantly, you felt energy surge through you, electricity crackling under your skin just waiting to be released. Throwing both scythes in the air above you, the two handles attached, and the chains wrapped around to be out of the way.
Catching your weapon, you darted forward with a flash of lighting and spun your scythes viciously, creating cracks all over the crystal orb. Distantly, you heard Kalpas cackle, and turned just in time to see his left eye glow orange under his mask. Dashing out of the way, you saw a pillar of fire erupt under the crystal, and all the cracks you made shattered.
Slowly, Kalpas brought his hand away from his mask, and stood from the low stance he had taken. Disconnecting your scythes, you raised one above your head to try and shield yourself from the fine rain of shards falling on you both. Panting, you looked over to the man next to you.
“I think we got it,” you grinned.
“I don’t leave my enemies alive,” Kalpas scoffed. Bringing your hand down from above your head, you now used it to cover your smile.
“Right,” you agreed, trying not to laugh. “Let’s meet up with the others.
“That. Fucking. Sucked.” You had just gotten out of the shower and were toweling off your hair. “I’m still finding crystal bits in my hair.” Kalpas sat on the bed and laughed at your complaints. “Next time you want to fight some giant destructive monster made up of half a city, you’re on your own,” you sat down on the floor and then laid on your back with the towel over your face.
You were sort of hoping for a response, but considering it was Kalpas you were talking to, it wasn’t that shocking when he didn’t respond. The silence stretched for so long, you were half asleep by the time he moved. Arms reached under you, and you jolted up, almost headbutting Kalpas, had he not jerked his head back.
“Watch it,” he grumbled and yanked the towel off your face. You blinked up at him confused, but he just lifted you and dropped you on the bed, then crawled over you and pulled the covers over you both.
“What’s—”
“Not now,” Kalpas pulled you closer to himself, then tucked your head under his chin. You were no stranger to memories you weren’t quite ready to visit yet, and with how tiring the day had been, you weren’t going to ask.
The next morning, you were still squished into his side, and it took some extra coaxing (read: smacks to his arms) to get Kalpas to let go. He was quieter than usual while getting ready, which you weren’t even sure was possible given how little he spoke already. It was while you were eating that you finally got an explanation.
“I remembered something last night,” he spoke in a low tone as though threatening someone and not just starting a conversation. “I remembered your death.” You took a deep breath. The conversation with Mei felt like it had been years ago, but you figured it would come up at some point.
“I’m here to listen, but you don’t have to tell me,” you spoke softly and kept your gaze on the coffee in your hands.
“I killed you.” All the air left your lungs. Your heart beat so loudly you were sure he could hear it, and your mind raced so fast, you felt left behind.
“On the moon. It was my job to keep you safe and I killed you.” Small flickers of fire appeared around his hands, and he visibly clenched his jaw. As soon as your eyes met, he was up from the table. Quickly, you matched him and blocked his path.
“Oh no. We are not doing this bullshit,” you frowned. “What happened to ‘I don’t care about the previous era’?”
“I strangled you.”
“No. Some guy who looks like you, from fifty thousand years ago strangled someone who looked like me. We are not the same people! And we’re not breaking up for such a stupid reason.”
Kalpas was staring at you so hard it looked like he was trying to move you with his mind, but you wouldn’t budge. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a long breath. “I’ve known for a while,” you confessed.
“What?” Kalpas looked furious, but you ignored him.
“When you first attacked Sunita, I remembered. I remembered you lunging at me just like you lunged at her when we came in here. You’re not the same person you were all those centuries ago. You aren’t a MANTIS, you’re not nearly as hostile, and you’re in control of yourself.”
“I could kill you again.” He said it as a threat, but you could hear the fear in his voice.
“Then I guess we wait another fifty thousand years,” you gave him a sad smile. “But I’d rather spend this time with you now.”
Kalpas closed the gap between you in one move, and you thought he was going to try and get past you, but instead he just pulled you straight into his chest. He might’ve broken your nose with the force he used, but your face was too smushed to tell him. When you tapped out, he let go completely and you took a step back to gasp for air.
“Does that—” you wheezed. “That mean we’re ok?” Kalpas grunted, but you saw that secret little smile he gave.
The meeting that morning had been filled with bad news. Your teams were still expected to stay in St. Fountain and keep an eye on the Arcane Castle. There was still no reliable way out. Sunita was following you home—
You did a double take.
Sunita was in fact following you and Kalpas back to your house.
The short walk was tense, and Kalpas was walking a little slower than you so he was still beside you, but also between you and your stalker. At the door, you went in, but he turned and growled when the girl tried to enter. Placing a calming hand on his shoulder, you carefully moved Kalpas out of the way. As soon as he shuffled over, the small smile you were sending him became a scowl pointed at Sunita.
“What do you want,” you crossed your arms and ignored the man behind you attempting to scare the shit out of your ‘guest.’
“To talk. That’s what friends do, isn’t it?” Sunita scoffed.
“It is,” you agreed. “Since we haven’t spoken in, oh,” you checked your bare wrist as though it were a watch. “Two months? I figured we weren’t friends,” you smiled. In a way that said you were anything but happy.
“I want to fix that,” Sunita spoke through gritted teeth. Glancing back at Kalpas, you figured she wasn’t going to be coming inside. So you took a step forward and closed the door behind you.
“Get to fixing then,” you waved a hand for her to go on.
“I would like to…” she paused as though ‘apologize’ was a hard word for her to say. “Explain my actions.” Apparently, it was. “Lyle has always been able to make me happy. Even when I am completely infuriated by him, he can still make me smile. I turned to him for comfort. He pointed out all the times we had broken up, you had been there. I really wanted things to work this time, so I stayed away from you.” She bowed her head and went quiet.
“Is that all?” you whispered. She nodded and you gave a drawn-out sigh. “I take it things didn’t work out?” She shook her head ‘no.’ “As far as I’m concerned, you can stay in your old room until the end of the week. It’s not safe to live alone, so I’m sure Adam will be moving in with Lyle. You can take his old room.”
Sunita looked up with hope in her eyes, but you kept going, stern look still in place. “Kalpas still lives here too. You still need to convince him. I’d recommend actually apologizing if I were you,” you spoke harshly and turned back to the house before you saw her reaction.
Their conversation went about as well as you had expected.
“Lyle and I broke up.”
“So?” Kalpas continued chopping vegetables, not looking up.
“I’d like to stay here.”
“No.”
“Oh, come on! I’ve already been forgiven!”
“No,” you shook your head. “I am putting up with you, because we used to be friends. That’s the best you’re going to get.”
“Lyle and I have broken up a million times, and now you decide you’ve had enough?” Sunita glared at you and Kalpas turned, ready to intervene.
“That’s correct,” you brought back the fake smile.
“Some fucking friend you are,” she spat.
“Good thing we’re not friends anymore,” you opened the door and slammed it after her.
Kalpas finished dinner while you cried and told him stories about your lost friend, though you couldn’t be understood around all the tears. When the food was ready, he placed a hand on your head for a second or two. Looking up with puffy eyes, you watched as he put the plate in front of you. After dinner, Kalpas let you cuddle—on the condition that you not call it that—until it was time for bed. You both were exhausted from all the crying you had done, and sleep came to you easily.
“One of the squads has found a stable way in, and more importantly, out of St. Fountain,” Mei announced. A month or so had passed since your fight with Lucheni, and everyone cheered upon hearing the news. “We can all expect to be leaving within the week.”
Carole stood and pulled you up by your hands before jumping up and down. Bronya smiled at Timido, making the poor girl squeak and look away with a blush. Mei spoke quietly to Adam, so you couldn’t make out what they were saying, and even Carys cracked a grin. The entire walk home to pack was filled with you telling Kalpas how excited you were.
“I guess dorming with Sunita will be an issue, and I’m way behind on classes, but I can’t wait to be sneaking out again. I can come visit you! We could go to Sal’s, they have the best ice cream, and—”
“Why the hell would you visit me?” you stopped in your tracks at Kalpas’ words.
“Why…wouldn’t I?” Did he not want to see you after this?
“You promised to share a bed.” He said it so confidently, you almost wanted to laugh.
“While we were here—” he cocked his head to the side, and you groaned. “You can’t stay at St. Freya unless you’re a student. Don’t you have your own school to get back to?” It hit you then, just how little you knew about Kalpas outside of False Bay.
“I delivered packages,” he shrugged. “They’ve fired me by now.”
“You should enroll at St. Freya then!”
“Me and what money?” he scoffed.
“My parents refused to pay for me to go,” you grinned. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out!” You took a step forward and then stopped. “Actually. Maybe don’t go. Adam gets asked out like five times a day. It’ll be the same for you.”
“Not my problem,” Kalpas kept walking past you.
“No, my problem!” you jogged to catch up. “I’m gonna be competing with half the school!”
“Hardly a fight when you’ve already won,” he looked over at your confused face. “What? You think I’m gonna leave you for some random person at your school?” he scoffed again, this time with much more venom. “We had to wait fifty thousand years to see each other again, I’ll kill anyone that gets in the way.”
“Please don’t kill every person that asks you out,” you opened the door and followed him up the stairs. “Kalpas? No killing people! Are you listening to me? We’re gonna get expelled!”
I started this thinking, "Oh rita uses a scythe, what if I made chain scythes? It'd be like how the cross makes the axe luna kindred uses." And then I was thinking about combining the scythes and wrote this whole part before going "Oh shit, no, that's a RWBY character." So I'm sorry. Reader is a RWBY character now. Hopefully this is better written. Thank you so much for reading this! It took me for-fucking-ever to get out, but I was SUPER excited to write it, I just hope it actually fits the prompt lol
I'm still taking asks if anyone wants! I just take way too long to write anything so It'll be a minute
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fairstival · 7 months
Note
I saw you mentioned you’ve been working on an au? Is there a master post?
Its @everlastingorbit and is what prompted the vent mostly. It's still very early in development (started like a 2 months ago total). I started writing chapter one tonight and finished my first ever work last week i think?
That's here
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arminsumi · 8 months
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I WANT TO KISS YOU / キスしたい
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
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Summary : you've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. Very cute. Very cheesy. Oh no... wait is there a tension between you and his best friend, too? Oh boy...
Warnings : romantic tension with Suguru / potential love triangle, cat scratch
Note : i think of this fic a lot and i found the continuation hiding out in my drafts sooo here 👍
🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works
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Satoru blinks awake to see your face. His heart beats harder.
結局昨日は夢ではなかったのか? Yesterday was not a dream after all?
He's not an early bird at all, but from the first day of your visit he magically woke up early as if his soul was too excited to sleep when it knew you were right there, in the flesh. No screen. Just you.
When the first day starts, it feels like you've always been together. Was there ever a screen separating the two of you? And were you really going to disappear behind one again in just a month?
今のところ、彼女はここに留まるように感じています。彼女が訪問を終えて出発するとき、私は空港で赤ん坊のように泣くことになると思います。 For now, she feels like she's here to stay. I think I'm going to cry like a baby at the airport when she leaves after her visit.
Morning routines are carried out. The sky is cloudy at first, threatening rain, and by the time you three cluster into the kitchen to make breakfast together, it starts raining.
You and Satoru banter like two cats. Suguru's morning rasp is very strong.
"Satoru... uh... sugar?" you ask, preparing to make yourself a second one and automatically making Satoru another one, since he looks still very bleary-eyed even after spending an hour freshening up in the bathroom.
"...? Yes?" he tilts his head, then you raise the sugar cube jar. "Yes. Uh... four. Thank you."
Suguru's blushing because of the cute tension between you and his best friend. It fills the whole kitchen, which already felt full with their two bodies and a third one now. Everyone keeps bumping elbows and yet not complaining about it, in fact it's enjoyable to be squished together. Maybe because you three waited so long to be together in person, you don't mind it. There's a silent, ever-present comedy in the air about the tight proximity.
You hum happily, tossing in one, two, three... four? That's a lot of sugar. "Suguru, tell Satoru he mustn't have so much sugar all the time. It's not good for his health."
Suguru laughs. "I try to tell him that every day. But his sweet tooth is incurable."
"His dentist must hate him." you smirk at Satoru, who's been looking at you blushingly after hearing his name mentioned.
彼女の声が今では一番好きな音だと思います。 I think her voice is my favorite sound now.
もう一度私の名前を言ってください。 Please say my name again.
"Satoru? Coffee?" you interrupt his lovey-dovey thoughts and he suddenly reanimates himself, because for a moment there he zoned out and just stared at you with those pretty eyes.
"Mmm... thanks." he takes the coffee from you with a noticeable timidness that you can't quite explain. There's a lot about him that's indescribable, you're having a small internal crisis; aren't you supposed to be fluent in English? And yet you can't even begin to describe just how sweet and gentle Satoru behaves. The most you can do is use metaphors that barely justify him.
"Suguru, tell her... her voice is nice, and also sorry for cuddling you in my sleep (and that she can definitely kick me away at night if it bothers her.) Also!" (the three of you head into the living room, and Suguru habitually trips over the cat who stalks under his feet too quietly to notice) "Also tell her... if it rains today, does she still want to go out? Because if we go out in the rain, she might get sick. And I don't want her to get sick on her trip. Not that I'd mind taking care of you, Y/n, of course."
Suguru lets out a long sigh and pulls a funny face. You smile amusedly.
"...It's too early to be a translator..." he grumbles in English after Satoru overloads him.
"What? C'mon tell her everything I said!"
"Let me have my coffee first. How about the two of you write to each other?" he suggests, putting the rim of the cup to his lips and sipping languidly.
"Eh, fine." Satoru pouts, and stalks off into his bedroom to get his phone.
Then, when he's in his bedroom, his chest flutters for some reason when he sees your suitcase standing there opened and emptied into the free cupboard space. He takes his phone, smiles at the homely feeling of seeing your belongings in his room, and leaves.
"Oh..." he has a sudden idea, and remembers the magnetic drawing board that's hanging in the kitchen. He and Suguru usually use it for writing reminders to each other, like get milk or you're an idiot or sometimes it has doodles of Mint the cat with sunglasses on.
So he returns to you with this magnetic drawing board, and points at it meaningfully, then holds one finger up and bows his head as he begins writing very slowly.
Suguru's checking the weather forecast and muttering sour complaints under his breath to you. "Of course it would rain for three days just when you arrive... at least by the weekend it will be clear and sunny..."
"Mmm... it's alright. A little rain never hurt nobody." you respond.
"I like your optimism." Suguru compliments flippantly at first, but then continues; "It's really uplifting. I think Satoru said something about you being a joy once, he said it really poetically but I can't recall it now."
"Aw..." you dip your head beneath your coffee cup, hiding the bashful expression on your face, which Suguru chuckles at.
And then, for a long moment, you just stare and watch Satoru writing on the board. You're completely captured in this moment, completely captivated in his enveloping presence as he sits next to you. He has slow, meticulous wrist movements. His knees press together, like he's worried that he'll invade your personal space if he sits too comfortably close to you. Funny, considering he cuddled you all night and you had no complaints about it.
He's writing very simply and neatly, just like how he texts you. You're a bit baffled by the characters he's using, though he's trying his best to avoid using any kanji knowing that you don't know a lot of it. He's sure you can figure things out by slowly pronouncing each hiragana character, or at least he hopes.
"Here." he hands you the magnetic drawing board, and then raises from the couch to go feed the cat.
"Minto-Minto... " he calls after the cat and makes a small cute sound to lure her out.
You're trying to read each hiragana character, eyes squinting a bit.
Suguru leans in close to you. He just takes a look, but the proximity for some reason gives both of you butterflies.
"Ooh... that's cute." Suguru comments after reading what Satoru wrote. His voice reaches deep in your tummy.
"Hm... I'll spell it out and... figure it out... anyways, why did you name your cat Mint?"
"Oh... well. There's two reasons. So the first..." he sets down his coffee, like he's about to tell you a great story, "Is because Satoru watched this show called Tokyo Mew Mew growing up, and he liked the character Minto. So he calls her Minto. And then I agreed on calling her that, but I call her Mint, because I hate mint the herb."
"You — haha, wait what? You call her Mint because you hate mint?"
"Yes. I hate mint, both the herb and the cat. She hates me too, clearly." Suguru raises his hand to remind you of how the cat scratched him the night before.
"Such a cute Hello Kitty sticker..." you tease.
"Thank you. Only the manliest men wear Hello Kitty Bandaids."
"How did she scratch you anyways...?"
"Oh, she likes to hang out in the washing machine if Satoru accidentally leaves it open. And when I try take her out of her comfy spot, she scratches me."
You sympathize, "Poor thing."
"What, the cat or me?" Suguru laughs.
"The cat." you lie teasingly.
"Wow! And here I thought you were being sympathetic!" he raises his brows.
You giggle and look at him, eyes finally making contact — ooh no that's bad bad bad, better break it immediately. So the two of you look away like you've both just indulged in a taboo intimacy. His stomach flips.
"Minto has been fed. She gave me cuddles." Satoru comes back into the room, and you admire the feeling he brings with him.
"No scratches?" Suguru asks.
"No, obviously, she loves me more than you." Satoru cheeks.
"Fuck you, haha."
Satoru makes his voice lower and leans to Suguru, "(Did she figure out what I wrote yet?)"
"Y/n did you figure out what he wrote?" Suguru asks.
"I'm trying so hard. What does this part mean...?"
Suguru shakes his head and puts his hands up. "Like I said, I'm not Mr Translator in the mornings."
"But you've had your coffee! Please, just this part..." you beg, and he can't deny that sweet begging. He easily folds for it, just like when Satoru begs for anything.
"Okay, where — this? Uh... Satoru your handwriting isn't usually this neat, is it...? That part means... 'voice'."
"Oh... ohhh!" you suddenly realize, and then the boys swoon over you when you pronounce the characters out loud to yourself.
"Uh... I think I know what it means..." you feel your cheeks warm up from the crown to your jawline.
あなたのこえがすき。 a-na-ta-no-ko-e-ga-su-ki.
"I like your voice, too." you respond to Satoru, and he half-gets it and gives you a thumbs up.
"Thanks."
You look at each other and then promptly look away with shy smiles.
"You two are cute." Suguru comments.
"Ahah... ahah shut up... hey, the sky has cleared up." you point out.
"Ooh... it cleared up 'cuz Satoru walked back into the room."
You awe at what he said.
"?"
"Nothing."
"Hey, Translator — (stop talking about me behind my back!)"
Suguru chuckles, "I wasn't! I was just — never mind. Let's get ready to head out."
And so you head into Satoru's bedroom to get ready, and Suguru heads into his bedroom, and Satoru himself goes into the cramped bathroom. Poor boy. He's really too tall for that archway, he bumped his head again.
彼女に花を買ってあげるべきでしょうか?それともちょっと多すぎますか? Should I buy her flowers? Or is it a bit too much?
(なんてことだ)、なぜこのシャツには穴が開いているのでしょう? (Oh my god), why does this shirt have holes?
The door slides open, he steps out of the bathroom half-dressed, and intends to quickly slip into Suguru's bedroom to borrow a shirt instead of awkwardly knocking on his bedroom door and disturbing you.
But oh, you know what? The cheesiest possible thing happens instead. The universe likes making Satoru's life a little more fun in odd times. So the two of you encounter each other in the hallway; you're fully clothed and he's got just pants and socks on.
He stutters once, swallows awkwardly, and even more awkwardly places his hand on your head as if to say sorry for this inconvenience.
But you laugh in response to the funny situation.
ああ、またあの美しい笑い声。 Ah, that beautiful laugh again.
"Sorry." he mutters, and disappears to go get a shirt from Suguru.
"It's okay." you reply.
The image of your pretty smile is burned in his head.
You can hear him telling Suguru something in the other room, and then you hear Suguru's muffled laugh as a response.
"(Don't laugh! I'm embarrassed! She's seen me shirtless now! No one's seen me shirtless except you!)"
"(You're such a virgin.)"
"(Say that again, I dare you.)"
"(Sorry, I don't understand you. I don't speak virgin, only English and Japanese.)"
You're wondering why Satoru sounds so embarrassed and annoyed, and then he groans down the hallway. It feels like you're their roommate, it's funny.
"Hi."
"Hi."
The two of you encounter each other in the hall again. This time he has a shirt, yes. And this time Suguru is there, too, and he's holding back an amused smile. He fluffs Satoru's hair as a way of embarrassing him more.
So Satoru leaves, and he leaves in such a way that it's super comedic, making you and Suguru laugh. Ooh, what a laugh that boy has; his Addam's apple shifts up and down deliciously.
"Ah... Suguru? I need help with the washing machine..."
"Yes...?"
"...this kid on the plane who sat next to me, he spilled strawberry juice all over my shirt and now it's sticky."
"But at least it smells like strawberries, right?" he jokes. "You can put it in the washing machine, I'll be doing the laundry in a second anyways..." there is a small moment of eye contact shared, then Suguru looks down, and frowns at something he sees, "(SATORU YOU LEFT YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR AGAIN!)"
"(Haha, sorry.)" you hear Satoru half-heartedly apologize from the other room.
So Suguru picks up the sock like an annoyed mother and goes to lecture Satoru.
"(You're embarrassing me in front of our guest. For the love of god, don't leave your goofy ass socks on the floor. What if she slips on them?)"
"(You're such a mother, Suguru.)"
You're calmly and casually going to put your juice-stained shirt in the washing machine like Suguru said, but then...
(the boys are talking and there's just this hilariously dramatic scream from the laundry room)
"DID THE CAT SCRATCH YOU?"
"(Did the cat scratch her?)"
"Ow, y-yeah!" you whine.
Suguru's the first one at the crime scene, and he picks up the cat and proceeds to lecture the cat as if it understands Japanese. It licks its lips and nubby nose and has an evil stare. You giggle.
"I'm so sorry... come, uh — (Suguru, we still have Hello Kitty adhesives somewhere, right?)" Satoru instinctually holds your hand that got scratched.
And he holds it so tenderly and caringly that it makes your whole chest quake for him.
彼女の手の傷はとても小さなものですが、それでも私は心臓がチクチクするのを感じました。 Although the wound on her hand was very small, I still felt my heart tingle.
He leads you to his bedroom, picking up some adhesives and antiseptic on the way, and sits with you on the unmade beds. You watch his fingers nimbly peeling the plastic off the adhesive, admiring how swiftly and perfectly he does even the littlest things. He has such a great attention to detail, it makes you self-conscious; is he thinking of you with the same attention to detail as everything else? Yes... he is.
He dabs some antiseptic on your small scratch, and then gently wraps and pats the Hello Kitty adhesive around it. You're pretty sure he's the one who bought them. Oh, if only you could ask him, but where even is your phone? Lost in a void somewhere, probably.
"Thank you, Satoru."
His eyes light up. His heart thumps. Why did those small, simple words have such a great effect on him?
"Mhm." he hums in acknowledgement. "You're welcome."
あなたの傷がもっと良くなるようにキスしたいです。 I want to kiss your wounds to make them better.
A second after thinking this and looking at your hand, he brings it to his lips and presses a very delicate kiss to the edge of your wrist, where the small cut spanned up to the base of your palm. Can you even call it a kiss? It's more like his lips graze your skin, hovering timidly.
And for some reason... the atmosphere becomes very intimate. Is it because of the place where he kissed you? The inner wrist has never occurred to you to be an intimate spot, and yet you're feeling as if he just kissed you on the lips.
You hear him audibly swallow, like he's conscious of this, too. The both of you become very aware of the tension in the atmosphere.
And then he looks apologetic, as if he overstepped a boundary. So you mutter a small, whispery "thanks..." which lifts his heart up into his throat and reassures him that you don't mind the intimacy.
"Mmm..." he blinks at you, pursing his lips.
His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and it feels like he's about to... well you know his body just wants to... he sort of...
"Hey, how's the wounded patient?" Suguru interrupts, and you and Satoru spring apart like you're elastic bands that just got released after being stretched.
"Ahah, I'm okay. It's not a bad scratch." you lift your hand, "I'll cherish this Hello Kitty Bandaid forever, thank you."
"Yeah, Satoru bought 'em so you can thank him."
"I knewww he bought them, haha! So expected... cutiepie." you admire Satoru, and he's pretty sure that the last thing you said is some cute nickname, so he smirks.
"Okay, well... anyways, let's head out before the sun rises too high and it gets too hot to walk."
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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falling-endlessly · 4 months
Text
Boomerang (part 2)
Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader
Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"
"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."
Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"
"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.
"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."
"Vel—"
"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"
"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."
"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."
"I'm not hiding—"
"Bullshit!" She growled.
Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.
After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."
Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."
She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."
Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.
"Thanks," you said sincerely.
She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.
****
Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.
His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.
Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.
"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."
Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?
But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"
Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."
"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"
Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.
Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.
Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.
"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.
"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?
"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."
By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."
He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.
"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.
"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.
"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"
She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."
Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.
You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.
And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.
"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"
"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.
"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.
****
"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.
Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.
"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"
"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."
"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.
Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."
Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.
"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.
"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.
"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.
"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"
"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"
 "Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"
"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."
"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.
"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"
"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"
"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.
"I'll kill him first."
"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.
"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.
"You what?" you snapped.
"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"
The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.
"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"
"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"
Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."
"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"
"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.
"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."
You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.
"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."
Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.
"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.
****
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah
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sunny44 · 9 months
Text
Marriage
Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex fiancée!reader Mason Mount x Fiancée!reader
Warnings: anxiety and fights
Summary: Max leaves his fiancée y/n at the altar on their wedding day but after years of regretting what he did, by a miracle of fate (or Lando) she appears in his life again.
Next Chapter
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My heart was racing as I stood at the altar, the cold sweat in the palm of my hands clashing with my racing thoughts.
The guests' whispers and expectant waiting for me to say yes, but I couldn't move.
Y/N, she deserved better than the mess I had made of things.
Just minutes before, I’ve been grappling with the weight of commitment.
Doubts, fears, and a paralyzing realization that I might not be ready had torn into me. In a painful instant, I’ve had made a gut-wrenching decision: to leave Y/N standing alone.
I could hear everyone's reactions as soon as I got down from the altar and started walking to the entrance of the church, for a moment I looked back and saw her being supported by her sister.
Everything would have been so much easier if I hadn't been a coward afraid of commitment, I wouldn't have left the love of my life in tears as I left as fast as my feet would allow.
There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about and regret leaving her at that altar. The decision I've made that day is haunting me everyday. I was a pussy, running away from what could have been a beautiful future.
I walked into the bar with Daniel, who was talking about how excited he was to meet Lando's much-talked-about new friend.
"My God, I think you're more excited about seeing her than Lando himself.”
"Actually, I think she's more than just his friend, from the way he talks about her it sounds like he's completely in love."
"There they are." I pointed to the table where Lando was standing and I could hear him laughing and he was certainly in love with his friend.
"Hi guys, this is Y/n." He says smiling and she turns around and her smile disappears when she sees me. "This is Daniel and Max."
"You..."
"It's nice to meet you guys." She says before I can say anything and holds out her hand to us.
"Well, let's sit down."
The evening passed slowly and there was certainly a strange atmosphere when I arrived, but I think it was just me and her who noticed as Daniel and Lando were having a great time.
"Well everyone, everything was great but I have a lot of things to do tomorrow so I'll call it a night." She gets up and starts reaching for her purse.
"I'll pay for it." I say.
"If I wanted a men to pay for things for me, I'd be married." She says thickly and they look at her. "But thank you for offering."
She says goodbye and leaves and the boys carry on talking and don't even see me get up and go after her. She was holding her hand up for a cab to stop and I ran over and put her hand down and then the cab drove straight past.
"What's your problem?" She says and lets go of me.
"Can we talk?"
"No." She turns away from me.
"Please?" I ask again.
"No, I don't want to talk to you and in fact I never wanted to see you again." She says tearfully. "You have no idea how ashamed and humiliated I felt that day and how hard it was to get over you and move on. And now you turn up years later wanting to talk?"
“I want to say I'm sorry."
"No, you don't have the right to be sorry because if you were sorry you wouldn’t have humiliated me like that or at least called me and explained why you asked me to marry you and then left."
"I didn't want to do that."
"Then why did you do it? Why did you leave me crying on the church floor while you left?"
"Because I'm an idiot, okay? I was afraid of commitment and afraid that getting married at 21 was a mistake."
"And how long were you afraid?" She catches me off guard with the question. "Were you afraid on the day or had you been afraid for longer? And don't you dare lie to me."
"I was already feeling it but I didn't know exactly what it was."
"If you'd talked to me like you promised at the beginning of our relationship, none of this would have happened." She says and I feel my heart ache to see her like this. "Then I'm sorry if I don't want to hear or accept your apology."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop, stop repeating that." She started breathing heavily and talking quietly to herself and breathing badly. "I can't breathe, I can't breathe."
"Look at me." I hold her shoulders and she looks at me with wide eyes. "Copy my breathing, okay? Breathe in and out."
We stayed like that for a few seconds until she started breathing normally again but crying a lot so I pulled her in and hugged her, I could feel my shirt getting wet from the tears but after a while she calmed down.
"I'm sorry I stained your shirt." She says after pulling away and wiping the mascara stains.
"It's okay, I don't care about the shirt."
"Okay." She lets go and looks at the floor.
"Come on, I'll take you wherever you want." She agrees and follows me to my car.
She gives me the address and I drive her to her house. The car is silent until she turns on the radio and I look at her.
"I'm sorry, I should have asked." She turns off.
"You don't have to." I said, calling again.
10 minutes later we arrived at her apartment and I realized that it was very close to mine, I opened the door and she was about to leave but she took a deep breath and looked at me.
"Thank you for bringing me home."
"No problem." She gave a slight smile and went inside and I felt as if I would never see her again.
Little did I know that it wouldn't be the last time I'd see her.
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This story could have a part 2 because I left the ending open so if you want more, let me know in the comments.
And also let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 if I do.
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shurisneakers · 3 months
Text
unsolved (ii)
Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the things that come with (body harm, priests, etc). images all have alt texts.
A/N: if you're familiar with the format of BuzzFeed unsolved videos, the pictures in this chapter make more sense. anyway we're starting small to warm up but i assure u there's like actual paranormal shit from next chapter onward <3 thank u for the chaotic response to chapter 1 ily guys sm ! as usual, please send me things you'd like to see in the series! it always make me so happy
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Previous part || Series masterlist
Bucky loves the compound. The sentiment carries a lot, considering he’s made it a non-negotiable part of his personal brand to hate everything. 
The lush landscape is quiet, spacious enough that he isn’t forced to run into anyone he’s actively avoiding, and has state-of-the art security that lets him sleep soundly, assured that no one will be able to get to his floor in an assassination attempt. 
All of his deep love and fond admiration disappears when it’s the crackass of dawn and his oakwood door receives the beat down of a lifetime. 
He snaps awake instantly, unsure of whether there was someone actually trying to kick the shit out of his door or it was just another nightmare that often blurred lines with reality. 
But after the third deafeningly loud knock confirms it, he scrambles for a pair of pants just so that he isn’t caught entirely vulnerable. 
The thrashing doesn’t cease, and by the time he makes his way to the door and yanks it open– 
There’s no one on the other side. 
Except a coffee cup on the ground and a note scribbled haphazardly on the side.
Shoot day. See you at the studio!
He stares wordlessly at the cup, unable to differentiate whether the feeling coursing through the very fibres of his being currently is pure blinding rage, or confusion that you apparently knew his coffee order. 
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The studio is fucking empty. If Bucky wasn’t still reeling from the effects of being startled awake by a fake intrusion at 5am, he’d have been over the damn moon.
He does his part as a man of honour and righteousness– calls out a very quiet ‘Hello?’ and then doesn’t bother feeling guilt when his heart explodes in joy at the lack of response.  
He spins on his heel to march out, only to come to an abrupt stop when he almost runs into you. He didn’t even fucking hear you come in. 
“Oh, hey.” You look at him, hand on a bagel. “You actually showed.”
Bucky’s smile falters, and he returns to his default Grinchian state. 
“You made sure I fuckin’ did,” he grumbles. “How’d you get on my floor?”
“I have my ways.”
Bucky’s glare presses hard into you almost like a palpable entity. 
“I did a gig as an escape artist for a while. Paid super well,” you dismiss. 
He doesn’t blink once, trying to decipher whether you’re telling him the truth or not. 
You offer him a bite from your bagel in return, seemingly having moved on from the conversation already. 
“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, turning away from you.   
“Maya didn’t actually think you’d show up on time so she told everyone to come an hour later.” You speak through a mostly full mouth. “I figured you could use the company.” 
Bucky immediately feels defensive, as if that wasn’t exactly what he tried to do. 
He grumbled all through the morning when he saw fifteen text reminders sent to him through the night telling him he had to shoot a video that day. He grumbled when he couldn’t use traffic as an excuse to not show up because the studio is two streets away from the compound. He grumbled when the toaster actually works for once. Everything is right in the world. This was, of course, devastating to him. 
He finally shuts up when Sam gives him a piece of gum. Then he just glowers, but his jaw is otherwise occupied. 
“She set you on me this morning?” Bucky questions, tone on the verge of being ticked. 
You shake your head, swallowing before taking another bite. “No, that was social service.”
Bucky’s eye twitches. 
“I’ll come back in an hour,” he mumbles, arms crossed over his chest. 
You give him a look that lets him know you’re entirely unconvinced. “Will you?”
Well. No.
“I’m gonna look around the studio. You’re welcome to join,” you say instead, looking past him. “We’ll need to know where we’re working for the next few months.”
Few months? No no– few hours at max, if this were to go exactly his way. 
“Video’s not gonna do numbers,” he reminds you in a dull utterance.
“With an enthusiasm like that, it’s hard to see why you’re not universally beloved, Barnes,” you comment seriously, before clapping his shoulder. “Come on. You ever look at yourself in a mirror? You’re gonna be a star, baby.”
Bucky, in his current chosen avatar, looks less 'man of the world' and more 'reject of the jungle’. 
But the sentiment is appreciated.
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The studio is moderately big. 
You find joy in messing around with set pieces of the other Avengers video series that were being shot there. Bucky finds joy in locating every possible escape route within a three foot vicinity. 
He’s admittedly surprised by learning how much actually goes into making a simple video. He just figured they’d stick a camera in his face and teleprompt him and get it over it. 
You chat animatedly about the use of gimbals and different camera gear, lighting setups and sound quality.
“You into this stuff?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No, I just did a stunt as a wedding videographer once,” you wave off, “It was great. You could always tell which couples were gonna get divorced within a year.”
Something unrecognisable flashes in his eyes. 
“Escape artist and wedding videographer,” he repeats.
You stop talking to look at him.
“Yes,” you say simply and go on to provide no further explanation. 
If the morning’s antics weren’t enough, now he’s convinced you’re fucking with him.
“Anyway, they’ll probably stick us in makeup before we go on camera because it–”  
“Makeup?”
“Well– yeah. For the video.” Your eyes dart toward him, sizing him up in a quick glance. “If you look any paler, you’d basically be translucent.”
Bucky can’t even debate it. His skin looks like it hasn't felt the gentle touch of a sunray in millennia.  
“Just say it’s part of the theme.”
You snort. “The first ghost I hunt cannot be one who sits beside me.” 
So Bucky gets his makeup done. 
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By the time the studio fills in, he’s already drunk two cups of the shitty breakroom coffee and found fifteen innocuous things to fashion into weaponry if things were to go awry.
The large bright lights force him to keep wiping beads of sweat away from his forehead. Everything exists in a contrarian state of frenzy, and coordinated down to the second as if it were a damn rocket launch. He’s already had three staff members dart about him cross checking if he’s hydrated and if he’s signed the right forms. 
“Oh, you actually showed,” he hears for the second time from Maya, who doesn’t even make an attempt to hide the earnest surprise from her voice.
Bucky wants to scream.
“The team’s picked a really simple case since it’s the first video. You just need to read it out,” she explains breezily, switching from you to him, “and you need to react.” 
You flash her a thumbs up. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. He’s convinced it’ll trigger another round of people meddling with his hair until it looks ‘sufficiently casual but not artificial’. 
 Maya hurriedly leaves after wishing you good luck, probably to fix the walking PR disaster that was Clint, who unceremoniously went live on his Instagram the night before after consuming something he procured from some guy in an alleyway, who described it as ‘carbonated milk’. Bucky watched it for a few seconds and immediately shut down the app when Clint offered to take one article of clothing off for every million people that tuned in.
“I asked for there to be as few people in the room as possible,” you whisper to him. 
“Still a lot,” he replies under his breath, watching them buzz around him, still brushing up his face and dabbing at his hairline with a napkin. 
Someone hands you a folder full of papers. “We lose any more and we’re filming this video ourselves.” 
“All ready!” The camera guy, Shane, announces. 
“Copy that,” you call back, before leaning forward in your chair, grinning. “Chill. I’m gonna do the talking. All you gotta do is say a few words and look pretty.” 
That sounds…doable. 
“Make it fast,” Bucky mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
Whether he was talking about the video or his death is still up for debate. 
“Recording in three…two…one–”
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The whole studio waits with bated breath, but Bucky stares right ahead. 
“When I said a ‘few words’, I did mean one or two, possibly more,” you talk through your smile.  
Bucky continues looking into the camera like it stole his ancestral property.
You exhale, soldiering on, lips still upturned. 
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You look at Bucky, hopeful that he will at least answer a question. He doesn’t offer the same kindness, and now you understand why Maya reached out to you for this. 
So you do what needs to be done, as a person with a responsibility to all these fine and tired souls gathered here on a weekend.
You kick him under the table. 
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The crew waits for Bucky to say more. He very pointedly doesn’t. 
At least one sound has been procured from him, which is more than what they can say for some other videos.
You continue, “Our story takes place in 1954, in the quaint, rural town of Ravenswood. Irene–”
Bucky scoffs. “You made that up.”
Would now be a good time for him to bring up your previous job experiences you  had dropped so casually or was this enough to let you know he was onto you? 
Your eyebrows pull together, scanning over the sentence. “I haven't even said anything yet.”
“A horror story. Taking place in Raven’s Woods,” Bucky emphasises. “Really.”
Bitch.
“First of all, it’s Ravenswood, not Raven’s Woods,” you shoot back. “And it exists.”
“Where?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“I don’t know– fuckin’ West Virginia?” You shuffle through the papers. “Does it matter? You wanna move there?”
Bucky doesn’t add anything further. 
You observe him for a moment before deciding to continue. 
“In the quiet town of Ravenswood,” you side eye him but he doesn’t look affected. “Irene Wendelin, a 35-year-old woman moved into a house on the outskirts to save up money. She lived alone, had no immediate relatives and worked as a secretary at the local press.”
Bucky continues chewing his gum. You’re not even sure he’s listening, but everyone got paid by the hour regardless of whether he did, so who gives a shit. 
“Within a few weeks of moving in, strange incidents started to take place. Irene’s friend Thelma, who also worked as a secretary at the press, recalled how Irene developed a persistent cough, was constantly fatigued, and had issues sleeping due to her skin itching. Thelma suggested solutions from ointments to medication, but not one remedy that she provided seemed to work. As time went by, Irene’s symptoms escalated into severe respiratory problems, leaving her breathless just from climbing up a flight of stairs. She even reportedly started having hallucinations of people crawling around in her house in the dark, but she was never able to catch them in their entirety.”
“How long did this take?” Bucky questions out of the blue, arms still crossed over his chest. 
“I think within a couple of weeks of moving in.” You try not to look too surprised. “Further, Thelma recalls Irene saying she heard strange sounds at night which kept her up. The only time the woman felt normal was when she left her house to stay with her cousins for a month.”
Bucky’s head snaps to you, eyes narrowing.  
“What?” you challenge.
“Nothin’,” he says instead. “Go on.”
You cast a look at the crew, who look just as confused as you, but you continue regardless. 
“Things escalated when one day, Irene showed up to work in complete disarray. Thelma says that upon a closer look, Irene had bite marks over her hands and legs. Thelma, a devout Christian, insisted on getting the place checked out by the church since all else had failed. Father Gabriel, a local priest, agreed to visit the house, but upon setting foot inside, claimed it was haunted by ‘forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’. This was the last straw for Thelma, who had Irene move into her house until she found a new place to stay. Within a few weeks, Irene was back to normal, and the house is still considered one of the most haunted places in the country to this place, with no one allowed to enter.” 
Bucky looks at his arms, jaw tightening. 
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Your eyebrow twitches.
You could see Maya shaking her head from across the room, entirely fucking defeated. 
You wait a few seconds but receive no response. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift from the table top. 
You start gathering the folder with the story in it, getting ready to read out your conclusion. 
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You stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at you.
Collectively, every spine in the room straightens. 
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“Asbestos?” you echo.
“Or mold. Could be either.” Bucky shrugs, chewing on the same stupid piece of gum that had lost its flavour hours ago. 
You look at him in bewilderment, partly because you weren’t expecting him to say anything at all, much less this. 
“Had an aunt once who thought she was possessed. Turns out her walls were full of mold.” 
You stare at him. “You’re lying.”
He finally turns to you, no traces of humour on his face. “She got remarried and moved out. Good as new.” 
“That doesn’t mean it’s asbestos.”
“Had the same symptoms an’ everything. Itchy skin, breathing problems, fatigue.” 
“Hallucinations?”
“Stress. Being poisoned twenty-four hours a day’ll do a number on anyone.”
“And the bite marks?” 
“You never had an itch so bad you just bit it?”
“On her legs?” you ask incredulously. “She bit her legs? Is that what you’re saying?”
Bucky shrugs. 
You look like you’re going to lose your mind. 
You clear your throat. “What about the priest?
Bucky snorts. “What ‘bout him?” 
“'Forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’?” 
“Maybe it was her,” he fires back. “Maybe that's just how she was, how would you know?”
“You’re saying the forces of evil are just… her bad vibes?” you say it slowly, as if that would make it better. 
“Maybe.” Bucky’s shoulders rise and drop again. “My aunt was a real stick in the mud too. I coulda called her a force’a evil when she didn’t let me fire a bottle rocket into the tree.” 
You narrow your eyes at him. Bucky looks back innocently.
“You’re bullshitting.”
“About my aunt?” he scoffs. “I would never. Rest her soul. Made some damn good cranberry pie.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not asbestos.”
“Then why was she fine every time she moved out?”
“Because the house was haunted.”
“By mold.”
Maya clears her throat, pointing to her watch. 
You look back at her and clear your throat as well, shuffling around your papers. 
“Right. So that’s it for this episode.”
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The camera guy yells “Cut!’ and you turn to look at Bucky.
But he’s already gone. 
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The video goes up that weekend. 
It takes a considerable amount of time to edit, considering they had to bleep out  the steady stream of expletives that you didn’t even know Bucky was muttering under his breath, but got picked up by the mic anyway.
To Barnes (Work):
are you ready for your influencer era
He leaves you on seen. You think you’ll send him more memes of his stupid face.
To Barnes (Work):
influenza
Five hours since the video has gone up, and your phone starts buzzing more than usual. Nat’s already sent you a clearly AI generated article titled ‘Everything We Know About the Latest Avenger’, full of incorrect information and straight up lies. 
The first reviews are promising. Sort of. The newest generation of kids on Twitter are saying shit and using terms that are beyond you, but it looks good. You think.
And then somewhere close to midnight, your phone chimes with a text from a number you hadn’t yet saved. 
From unknown
Hey. Steve Rogers here. Great job on the video.
Your eyebrows shoot up, discarding your refreshing of the Subreddit that has popped up in your name. 
From unknown
Just letting you know though– he was lying.
From unknown
He doesn’t have an aunt. 
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Motherfucker.
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becomingmina · 5 months
Text
FUCKBOY MIN 2. little series w/ LEEKNOW + HYUNJIN
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18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing: hwang hyunjin x female reader x lee minho genre + warnings: slight angst wc: 3.5k mina's note: I really enjoyed writing this. Sorry it took a while! This part was was like a filler, I know.
other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.
series chapter ➵ part one, part three ending one
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“You done crying yet or?” Hyunjin jokes after watching over you for the past thirty minutes. He was in the drivers seat handing out countless tissues to you, who was in his passenger’s.
“Hyunjin, stop,” you crack up at his teasing. You were done crying now, you just weren’t done being upset yet. A heavy feeling still lingering around your shoulders as you try your best to block out Minho’s words circulating in your head.
“Are you still not going to tell me what he said to you in the bathroom?” A hand comes to wipe away the last of your tears, his tone gentler now.
Hyunjin can see the marks on your neck, anyone can. He can tell what happened in the bathroom and he knows Minho must’ve said something to overwhelmed you to cry, but he just doesn’t know what exactly.
“I don’t want to re-live it Hyunjin,” you couldn’t tell him. You didn’t want to tell him that you said the L word to Minho within the same month you got rejected by him. Hyunjin could never judge you for that but how can you tell him without telling the whole thing, how it was forced out of you. Dirty? Dirty because of Hyunjin? The words repeats again, haunting you. Hyunjin was involved in Minho’s mean and hurtful words and you feel guilty. Hyunjin did absolutely nothing wrong, he didn’t deserved to be dragged into whatever mess was going on between you and Minho.
“Why? Is it because you might cry again?” He playfully says, not wanting you to feel downhearted at your own actions. He lets out a giggle after observing how you quickly pierced your eyes at him sassily - something you picked up from him. It doesn't matter what situation you're in, Hyunjin always makes it light hearted. He's so playful but in a way where he is still careful and you never fail to warm up to him. Just like this moment.
“I just got my heart broken by the city’s fuckboy, I don’t need the city’s heartbreaker to feed into it,” you chuckle and he follows with furrowed brows, unable to keep a straight face at the names.
“Those names are crazy Y/N,” he remarks.
“I actually don’t think you’re a heartbreaker Hyunjin, it’s just what everyone calls you,” you reassured him, hand finding his to give him a tight squeeze.
"I probably am one," he held yours back tighter, letting you know he didn’t take it to heart. "I'm curious though," he continues .
“Hmm?”
“Curious to why the city’s fuckboy keeps yelling at you,” you eyed him again, arms crossed this time with a fake pout. “Or is it that you’re just a cry baby?” he laughs but he was serious though, he wanted to see why Minho keeps leaving you in tears.
“I’m not a cry baby,” you defend yourself. “You’re probably tired of me crying hey? I know how to smile too!” To be fair, you were kind of a cry baby especially as this is the second time he has picked you up and wiped away your tears, all within a month.
“Wait, can you actually?” he continues.
“I’m actually really sweet Hyunjin, I promise!”
“How about the city’s heartbreaker takes you out one day?” The tension from the incident with Minho start to disappear as Hyunjin slowly soothes it, directing your attention somewhere else - something he is very good at.
“Hmm?” brows furrowed together. His question had taken you by surprise, you were unsure if he was serious. “Like on a date?” You clarified.
“Mhmm,” he confirmed. “So you can show me how sweet you can be and that you’re not just a cry baby.” He already knows how sweet you are. Last couple of weeks you guys spent together talking about everything and nothings have really shown him what type of person you are. You were caring, cheerful, playful. You loved to tease, loves to be teased and takes on jokes like a champ. You were just full of laughter and happiness and meeting someone like you is hard for Hyunjin. It seems that he has developed a soft spot for you, but unlike Minho he isn’t afraid to show you.
You just giggle back, unaware of the thoughts going through Hyunjin’s head, everything falling into silence right after.
Hyunjin is a lovely person and you hate to say yes just to distract yourself from Minho. But Hyunjin has that effect on you, where he has made you forgot about Minho whenever you’re with him. You don’t know how to explain it. Like earlier tonight before all of this, when you went with him to the party, you had zero care for anyone and anything besides Hyunjin and wine. Or like right now, Minho was slowly fading away in your head. If you give him a chance, maybe he’ll be better than Minho. He always was, seeing as he was the one who was here, unlike Minho who didn’t even chase after you.
“Hyune?”
“Hmm?”
“A date with you sounds cool,” your silly smile returning. He couldn’t control his smile back, his eyes turning into thin lines as his upper lips disappears a little showing his white pearlys.
The man who broke your heart an hour ago long forgotten, in moments like this.
+
“You okay hyung?” Han asks, after observing Minho for the past hour just downing his drinks.
“Yeah.. Good.. I’m good.” Minho could barely reply, slurring on his words clearly intoxicated.
“What happened in the bathroom? What did you do to her?” Han was worried about you both. He still doesn't understand what you did to get Minho to push you away like that, especially when Minho would used to reschedule his plans with Han and their friend group just to be with you. It was clear to Han that you guys had something going on. Minho wasn’t much of a drinker too but seeing him suddenly finish all these drinks made Han sense something was up.
“Nothing, I just.. Nothing just shooed her away like usual,” Minho replied, acting uninterested in the conversation.
“Marks on your neck tells me otherwise,” Han replied back, eyeing up at his hyung. Minho doesn’t reply, instead he stays quiet, one hand coming into contact with the marks you left on his skin. His head is in a daze, the scene of you pressing kisses to his neck, how soft your plump lips felt, your tiny hands holding the back of his neck to keep him in place while the other was wrapped around his..
“Hyung? Hey hyung?” Han snaps the older man out of his thoughts, holding him by the shoulder trying to steady him. “She’s a good girl. If you don’t like her don’t do that to her.”
“She gave me the marks Jisung.. I didn’t do anything to her,” Minho huffed, trying to defend himself.
“Sure, it’s not like she didn’t walk out of the bathroom with marks herself,” Minho just rolls his eyes. “If you don’t like her like that, stop hurting her.”
“Looks like you also want to fuck her, seeing as how you’re talking about her-”
“-Just because I feel sorry for her doesn’t mean I want to fuck her, hyung. No girl should be treated like that,”
“Whatever,” Minho pushes the smaller boy’s arms off his shoulders making him stumble back a bit.
“See how you act? You’re a dick. How is it that every other girl gets let off easily when they admit they like you and when Y/N does it she gets yelled at?” Han was over his hyung’s antics, also fuming from the way he was pushed even though he was only trying to help him up.
“Last month you pushed her away then tonight you’re all over her again just because she’s with someone else. You’re so possessive. What did you do to her in the bathroom?!” Han has never called Minho out like this but the way Minho acted was very possessive. It was like he hates seeing other people interested or talk about things that was his. In this instance, you.
“I don’t know,” as much as he hates to admit it, your words engraved itself to his brain. He couldn’t come up with a reason why he treated you the way he did tonight or ever. Just the words I love you bouncing in his head, hitting every surface of his brain. Did he like you back? He’s not in-love with you right? Or was he just possessive over you? Did he want you to himself only? Minho was overwhelmed with his thoughts, unable to voice anything else, eyes just seeking some sort of help from the younger boy.
“You okay hyung?”
“No.”
+
A couple weeks go by and Minho catches himself thinking about you every second pf his day. He doesn’t know how to make it stop. He contacted so many girl just to ghost them before they meet up as he has this feeling of guilt. Not towards the girls, they don’t mean anything to him but guilt towards you. It was like he was doing something wrong to you. But you weren’t even his and he doesn’t even like you back. He has just be constantly in and out, and his friends aren’t any help either. Well to be fair, he’s only been keeping his thoughts to himself so it’s not really his friend’s fault. But you and Hyunjin has been the topic of the week, updates of where you guys went or what you guys did was brought up every single day in conversation.. well ofcourse it would, seeing as how Hyunjin and Minho shares mutual friends.
“You think he really likes her?” Felix asks the others.
“Yeah, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have come with her to the party the other week,” Chan clarified and they nod in agreement.
“Why wonder we haven’t seen him all of last month, he was with Y/N.”
Minho listens to the conversation, quietly contributing and attacking Hyunjin in his head. Yeah but she doesn’t like him. She clearly loves someone else.
“Wasn’t she one of your flings?” Chan’s question wakes Minho up.
“Hmm? Y/N?” Your name comes out more tender than expected from his lips. “I don’t remember,” Minho lies.
“Anyways, I reckon the photo he took of her from earlier this week was cute,” Seungmin says, the rest giggling like high school girls at their friends love life.
“Looks like the heartbreaker Hyunjin found someone he really likes.”
“And Y/N seems to really like him too,” Minho was furious, wanting to tell them what the reality was but even himself wasn’t sure if it was true anymore. Maybe you have fallen for Hyunjin. Maybe you have forgotten all about Minho now.
He looks to his side, watching Felix swipe through Hyunjin’s instagram story. It was the first time he saw you since. You were as pretty as ever. Hair in a half up half down look, in a black dress looking and smiling at Hyunjin’s camera.
Hyunjin had taken you out to one of his favourite bakery and art museum. He had told you to wear something pretty, and be ready by noon. You got dolled up, picking out your most gorgeous dress and by the time he promised, he messaged you to come outside. Hyunjin was lean up against his car, his camera strap across his body, a small bouquet in his hand. It was something you never experienced before, you couldn’t help but smile instantly at the sight. Oh how sweet he was, and definitely very handsome.
“You look like you can be very sweet, Y/N,” he playfully says before pulling you into a hug. You hold him back, arms wrapping around his body pressing your cheeks against his toned chest, staying there a little bit longer than you extended.
“Ready to go?” He asks, and you remove yourself.
“Mhmm, ready to go and ready to show you I can be sweet!” The conversation you had with yourself, a couple days ago still implanted in your head. You will give it a try with Hyunjin. He has always treated you well, despite his title he received from everyone, but a little part of you is afraid. Minho treated you well too, but turned his back on you the second you liked him. You were afraid you were going to fall for it again. Hyunjin could never make you fall for him then ditch you right? But to be honest, has Minho ever picked you up in broad day light like this? No. You guys would sneak around all the time, and was only ever relaxed in a closed off area - that being his house. Minho has never planned a date this. But did your heart wanted that more than this? A unlike tingling heavy feeling fallen in your chest, the feeling is different.
As Felix continues to tap his screen, more images of the date appears. You guys spend a while in the coffee shop just goofing around with each other, then at the art museum.. Oh the art museum.. countless photos of you standing infront of and looking at the art works makes Minho go red.
“Fuck-” Minho bites, fist forming into balls as he feels his blood boiling. Minho was angry now, he was jealous. He didn’t ever show you off like this and was mad someone was able to do.
“Gotta go, gotta go call Bella,” Minho walks out, everyone else looking around trying to seek a reason why he was acting like that.
+
It was dark and late, 9pm to be exact. Silence fill the air as you and Hyunjin both just sit in his car. You shyly glance over to him, unsure of what to do now, he just gives you a smile. You really enjoyed your day with him, it was fun and quite the romantic day. But do you invite him in now? Do you take it slow? What would you do if you invite him in anyways?
"I enjoyed today with you too Hyune," you break the silence. "I'm actually really tried from everything though" you lie, you needed to distant yourself for the rest of the night, to work out what you were feeling. You needed to take it slow. The tingling sensation before was still around you, a feeling you can't explain. "I think I might start ready for bed," you observe his reactions, but there is none. Just him keeping a small smile like earlier.
"We did so much today, I’m tired and ready for bed too," he agrees, one hand reaches over to hold yours. He was so soft, it's like he knows the barrier you had set up. He doesn't questions it and just lets it be.
"Thank you Hyune," you reply, twisting your wrist so your fingers can interlock with his now, giving him some sort of affirmation. You lean in towards him and ahe air grows a bit cold now. You had to do it, to show your gratitude. You continue to move in, giving him a peck to his cheeks. Hyunjin freezes in return, the sudden affection makes him flustered. "Goodnight Hyune." You retracted back your hand, collecting your stuff, along with your nice bouquet of flowers and exiting his car.
It was clear to Hyunjin after the peck that he liked you. He really liked you but he was still unsure of where your feelings stands. Regardless, he wanted to keep trying with you.
+
You were in the middle of the dance floor, to the grand party that Hyunjin asked you to be his date at. Well technically, you were invited by Minho's mum but you can't turn down a cute date with Hyunjin.
“Where are you?” You ask on the phone, eyes searching for a lost Hyunjin. He has disappeared from your sight so suddenly after you guys had spend a hour of drinking the free wine.
“At the table we were before," you can hear him slurring on his words, unable to keep your giggles in at how tipsy he is.
“Okay, coming! Stay where you are," as you turn around someone pulls you back, making you stumble a bit forward into them.
“Can I talk to you?” You encounter a familiar face. Minho was standing in front of you, his hand gripping your wrist not painfully but strong enough for you not to pull back. Your eyes scan his face. He looked so different. He had his hair down covering his forehead, something he never wears out in public. His eyes were coated with a thin cover of gloss, almost looks like he had been draining in his emotions for the longest time ever. Minho looked so soft, you were taken back.
“I gotta go. Hyune’s waiting for me,” you reply trying to pull away from him. You needed to avoid Minho, unsure why but you had too.
“Hyune?”
“Yes, Hyune,” you managed to escape and walked off, only because he loosen his grip. Minho was left on the middle of the dance floor, watching you make your way through the crowd.
“Hyune?” He whispers to himself, confused. A nickname already? Maybe the boys were right.
You don’t know why but a sudden urge to spin around got the best of you.
“Hey Min!” The nickname makes him instantly turn around but he knows it wasn’t going to be you standing there, so he prepared himself for whoever was there.
“Hey, I was looking for you,” he lied to the gorgeous woman infront of him, Bella.
You watch as Minho smile at her, his hand coming in contact with her cheek. You spun around again, not wanting to watch any more of what he got up to, going back to Hyunjin.
+
The music was blaring now and you feel yourself getting light headed from the countless shots and mimosas you consumed. You lean into Hyunjin’s chest, wanting to stay still for a minute to regain control of your body.
Minho doesn't know how he got here but there he stood a couple steps infront of you, watching you with Hyunjin. He has Bella in-front of him holding his hands as she sways to the music, seeking for his attention.
“Hey, I’m losing you here Y/N,” Hyunjin laughs, although him himself was feeling the same thing. He had to control it, he couldn’t let you both loose to alcohol.
“I’m so tired Hyune,” you replied, unable to move your head from his upper chest.
“You wanna go sit down?” He asked, hands coming to your waist to help hold you up. The small contact with your body makes you widen your eyes. You steady yourself back on your heels as you make eye contact with the sweet boy in front you. Your eyes catch his lips for a second, they were so plump, so full and the perfect shade of pink, almost a reddish. A thought ran through your head and you feel guilty about it but you wanted to do it. You want to feel his lips on yours to confirm that feeling that keeps staying around in your chest. His eyes flutter from your eyes to your lips. You looked so pretty like this, your cheeks was pink, eyes looks so bright and full, you were so kissable. Hyunjin slowly leans in, one had holding your face and when he doesn’t see a signal of you avoiding it, he closes the gap between your lips.
Minho’s heart sinks watching Hyunjin kiss you. He has always been possessive of you, hating when your attention is on another person. He has always been annoyed, always been angry but right now, he feels broken, he feels hurt. He didn’t come here with Bella because he liked her. He came here with Bella because he wanted to use her as a distraction. He wanted to use her to get over you. He doesn’t realise it until now, after witnessing the kiss, that since the night you confessed your feelings to him, he felt the same. He felt the same but he was too afraid to say it, to show it. Liking someone was overwhelming, let alone loving someone. Minho was just afraid.
The feeling doesn’t go away, it’s heavy it’s numbing your body. You pull away from Hyunjin’s lips, hands on his chest to help you detach. You can’t keep his eye contact, letting out a heavy breath.
“Hyune, I..” you look up over his shoulder and catches Minho eyes as he towers over Bella. Minho stops to observe you, observing your next move. For a second the world stops, everyone’s face was blurred, the music goes from blaring loud to a long beep, something you hear when your brain restarts similar to the sound in movies when the main character watches someone close to them die. It was only you and Minho.
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{Tag list 🏷️@20minsat180dgegrees : @feybin : @whosanaanyway : @k0nst3nceee : @hoes4lino : @ihatewritingshit : @armystay89 : @redstayrosie : @captainchrisstan }
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elliesflower · 6 months
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victory lap [ellie williams]
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pairing; f!reader x ellie
cw; rich!ellie, plus-sized female!reader, degradation (kinda), mean!ellie, vouyerism, semi-public masturbation(kinda?), ellie and reader are both perverted ngl
an; syd's comeback??? and it's smut?????? i've had this in my drafts since like may and finally got around to editing it so here you go. and i swear i'm working on chapter 8. and also please don't ask why i didn't pick a sexier sport. like basketball or something. i don't know either. ok bye.
for my sweet babies @coeurify @bambiesfics @addisonnie @seattlesellie
It was yet another blazing hot day at the country club, the sun’s sweltering rays kissing the backs of your legs as you bent down to retrieve a fallen golf ball from the bright green turf, careful not to bend straight over so that your panties would be on full display for anyone who dared to walk behind you. You readjusted the visor on your head upon standing, before you wiped a speck of excess dirt off the white plastic with a perfectly manicured finger before passing it off to Tommy Miller. 
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, making sure to grab an unnecessary amount of your hand in his own as he took the ball. He winked at you before readjusting his own visor, and setting up the ball on the tee. After the first time you caddied for Tommy, he started requesting you by name. Of course, you knew it probably had a little something to do with the way you caught him staring at your full breasts that sat perfectly in your pink racerback, neckline so low everyone could watch the way small beads of sweat would dribble down your skin and disappear between your chest. 
The truth is, you didn’t mind that Tommy was a little flirty with you, or even handsy sometimes, for that matter��for two reasons. The main one being, Tommy had money. Like, different car for each day of the week money. And his brother, Joel, somehow had even more, you’d reckoned from the times you’ve gotten to chat with him. They were always talking about what new business venture they’d invested in this week, or what extravagant trips they were taking next week. To the average person, it might sound snobby and pretentious—because well, it was—but around the club, it was normal. But you didn’t mind, because the more money your club members made, the more money they could put in your pocket. And you had bills to pay. 
The second reason being, of course, you knew it wouldn’t get them anywhere. Not when you weren’t really into Tommy’s…type, if you will. 
“Of course, Tommy,” you smiled warmly at him, before stepping back to stand in the shade of the golf cart as you watched him line up his shot. Just as he was all set up, swinging his arms behind him to take the shot, his phone began ringing loudly from his back pocket.  
“Goddamn, piece ‘uh shit!” He exclaimed as the ringer clearly messed up his concentration. You had to hide your smile as he shot you an apologetic look before tucking the club under his arm and pulling out his phone to answer. The club was a little high and tight, with people talking like they’d just stepped off the set of an eighties classic film, but Tommy was a little…different. Coming from Texas, the money he’s made never quite washed away his potty mouth, nor his laid-back attitude.
“What is it Joel? Oh, you’re here?” Tommy glanced at you before dropping his gaze to the ground, rolling the golf ball around with his foot mindlessly. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. No, I’ll have her come pick you two up. Yep. Alright, see ya in a bit.” 
You straightened up against the cart as he approached you, ready to do whatever it was he’d ask. 
“Joel’s here?” You asked, sliding into the cart preemptively. 
“Yeah, that sonuva bitch decided to stop by after all. Him and Ellie are waitin’ at the clubhouse, would you mind swingin’ to pick them up?” 
“Ellie?” You cocked your head slightly, but slid through to the driver’s seat nonetheless. 
“Ah, forgot you haven’t met ‘er yet,” Tommy said, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed down to where your thick thighs spilled out onto the seat, your panties just barely covered by the white pleated golf skirt that rode up when you sat. You immediately averted your gaze, turning the key to the cart and feeling it rumble to life. “Ellie’s Joel’s daughter. I think she’s about your age…she’s great n’ all, honors student in college, yadda yadda…y’all might actually hit it off.”
“We’ll see about that,” you said playfully. If only he knew what he was actually implying to your sapphic brain. He just smirked at you, tapping the hood of the cart twice before walking back to the tee. “See ya in a bit,” he called over his shoulder as you drove away. You weren’t too far from the clubhouse, as Tommy had barely gotten started on his round, so it was a quick little drive over. The warm breeze tickled the baby hairs peeking from beneath your visor, and helped to cool the bare skin of your arms. 
Joel was waiting for you in the cart-turnaround at the back of the clubhouse when you arrived, and gave you a little wave as you turned around the corner. You waved back, putting on your best smile and doe eyes as you pulled up in front of him standing alone with two golf club bags at his sides. He smiled politely when you came to a stop, jumping out quickly to retrieve his bags when he started trying to put them on the cart himself. 
“Joel, you know you don’t have to worry about all that. Not when I’m around, at least.” You smirked at him as you picked up the two bags of heavy clubs with ease, loading them onto the back of the cart.
“C’mon now, I can’t even attempt to be a gentleman?” He joked, tipping his visor at you playfully. You giggled, exaggeratedly. 
“Oh, but of course, Mr. Miller. My apologies.” You pretended to curtsey for him, just barely lifting the hem of your short skirt as to not completely expose yourself—but surely you didn’t miss the completely conspicuous way his eyes traveled down the expanse of your curves, from the way your breasts practically spilled from your tank top, to the small patch of exposed skin at your midriff, all the way down to the way your white skirt flowed as you crossed your legs. I mean, who wouldn’t look, honestly? He huffed out a laugh and you took that as your cue to slide back into the driver’s seat, and Joel leaned a strong arm against the roof of the cart. 
“Tommy mentioned your daughter? Is she—” 
“Ready, Dad?” You could only assume Ellie, his daughter, suddenly appeared behind Joel, effectively shutting you up and quite literally taking your breath away. You at least had the decency to choke quietly, using Joel’s surprise as an excuse to turn your head away, bringing your fist to your mouth for a moment as you cleared your throat and tried to regain your composure. You felt the cart dip to your right, so you turned back, expecting to see Joel sliding in next to you—but no, it just had to be his daughter. His beautiful, angelically-built daughter with a perfect smile and perfect jade eyes and somehow even more perfect hands, which she was using to grip the stability bar at the front of the cart as she slid in next to you. 
You felt stunned, could do nothing but pathetically stare at her with your mouth slightly agape as you heard Joel’s phone ringing distantly, somewhere in the back of your mind, even though you knew he was sat right behind you. A half smile made the corner of Ellie’s lip twitch ever so slightly, but she looked away quickly, leaving you practically lusting at the sight of her side profile. 
“You gonna take us to Tommy? Or just sit there and stare like you ain’t got nothin’ in your brain?” Her voice was like pure sex; rich and modulated, no real Southern accent like her father, but his vernacular had definitely rubbed off. It was really hard to not show that her words were heading straight to your lower half, your thighs pressing together just inconspicuously enough that you’d probably be able to play it off if she really noticed. You had to at least look embarrassed, averting your gaze so that you could turn the small engine over. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. Tommy speaks very highly of you.” You chose to ignore her little comment, focusing instead on trying to treat Ellie just like every member you’d had the pleasure of serving. 
And oh boy, would it be a pleasure to serve Ellie. 
“M’sure he does,” Ellie all but laughed, leaning back so that her legs spread apart across the seat, her left knee getting dangerously close to your legs. You swallowed thickly, trying to watch the movement of her tattooed arm from your peripheral as she slung it over the back of the seat. You could tell it was a natural response, that she probably man-spreaded like this everywhere—but some sick and perverted part of your mind wanted to believe that she was doing it for you, that she wanted you to see her act so…
“Eyes on the fucking road, sweetheart,” she said, and it was quiet. But the weight of it made you nearly squeak—how long had you been looking over at her?—narrowly avoiding a decently-sized rock that would have gotten easily stuck in the small tires of the golf cart. “This your first day on the job or somethin’?” 
And Ellie was so fucking casual with it. Like she hadn’t even meant to degrade you. You stammered a bit, and you swear you could feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. Tommy appeared suddenly as you reached the small summit of the course hill, and all you could do was huff quietly as you approached, again choosing to ignore the way she taunted you like it was second nature. Luckily, she either didn’t hear or chose to ignore you, but she didn’t say another word as you pulled up near Tommy, just as he was taking a long swing with his driver.
“You see that shit, Joel?” He asked as he squinted out at the ball flying through the air with impressive speed. “Might actually beat ya this time, whatcha think?” 
“Yeah, yeah, you just got a head start, that’s all.” You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice as you quickly jumped out of the cart and ran to grab his clubs for him, and Ellie’s, too. He was finishing up his phone call as he took the bag from you, giving you a small nod before you turned to face Ellie. Now that you were standing practically face to face, you had to stop yourself from looking her up and down. Or you at least had to find a way to be discreet about it…and that was one thing you were, was quick on your feet. 
“These are some nice clubs,” you praised, using it as an excuse to look down at her, playing it off like you were examining them. Her feet were clad in an expensive pair of golfing shoes, her toned calves running into thighs covered in a simple, black, five inch inseam short. You gulped inconspicuously, as your eyes quickly moved past her crotch. Surely, you were hallucinating that…bulge. 
“Aw, so you can be helpful when you wanna be,” Ellie snickered, taking the bag away from you with such quickness that your arm was left hovering in the air. You shook your head slightly as if to shake the thoughts away, and dared to look her in the eyes once more. 
“I sure do try my best,” you said, and it wasn’t meant to be bratty, it really wasn’t—but Ellie’s smirk quickly soured, and she huffed and slung the bag over her shoulder. 
“Get me some water, will you?” She jutted her chin toward the cooler attached to the back of the cart, and you could only nod, instantly following her blunt command like you were a puppet on her string. What was she doing to you?
Ellie wasn’t always an asshole, you see. No, no, society made her this way. Have you ever noticed how rich kids aren’t friends with the poor ones, or vice versa? It’s because they can never find any middle ground, no similarities, no common interests. The kids going to public school were happy with a day trip to the city as a vacation; meanwhile, Ellie was missing weeks of her prissy private school education to fly halfway around the world on a business trip with her dad. 
And now, she was a rich girl going to a pretentious university. But she didn’t like the fact that people saw her this way: an asshole with her nose always pointing up; getting clocked as a rich girl as soon as anyone with eyes looked at the way she was dressed; never knowing if someone liked her for her, instead of just for her money. People were going to look at her and see ‘rich, pretentious asshole’ painted on her forehead no matter what—so why not embrace it? Why not put on this stupid little act that everyone else in her social class seemed to? 
And that’s where the soul-sucking began, Ellie realized. That’s how the bratty, entitled kids from her high school ended up just like their evil, entitled parents. She didn’t want to be this way. It just…happened. 
Nevertheless, Ellie pulled the Nike-swooshed visor off of her head for a moment to run her fingers through her reddish-brown tresses, trying to shake away the heat of the sun. You couldn’t help but to let your eyes linger on the way her tattooed arm flexed as she did so, nearly tripping over your own feet as you brought her a completely unnecessary plastic bottle full of water. 
“You know, they make reusable water bottles, nowadays,” you blurted out, your sarcasm taking over momentarily, the heat nearly making you forget where you were. You were at work. Of course rich people don’t care about using plastic water bottles. Ellie raised a curious brow, perfectly groomed with a small scar parting the arch. She didn’t even have to say anything—she just stood there, giving you that…look, and your eyes widened in surprise. She snatched the water bottle from your hand with such force that you flinched, the plastic crinkling almost louder than the sound of Tommy and Joel’s banter.
“I’m sorry, Miss,” you found yourself saying, eyes immediately falling to the ground. As she took a swig of water, Ellie couldn’t help but to notice this, and file it away in her brain for another time—the way she didn’t even have to say anything to you, and you were already so…
submissive. 
“Don’t call me Miss,” she said simply as she screwed the cap back on. You nodded, folding your hands together in front of you before looking back up to catch her gaze. 
“Yes, Ellie,” and her name came out like a drawl naturally…swear. The syllables rolled off your tongue and straight to your lower half, took you to a place so heavenly—your panties were growing wetter by the second, the press of your plush thighs getting tighter as you watched her expression. Her eyes darkened momentarily (or did she just squint at the sun?), and her posture shifted (maybe she got a cramp?). It was like she was trying to read your mind, and you were pretty sure she practically could as you watched her pretty pink tongue dart out to catch the wetness that remained on her lips—you found yourself salivating at the sight, having to quite literally force your jaw to stay closed. 
She was an asshole, sure—but that doesn’t mean you still don’t want to fuck her. 
“My clubs?” Ellie broke you out of your little fantasy by invading your presence, so close you were suddenly overwhelmed. She had set her clubs down in front of her when she took a drink of water, and it was now suddenly your job to hand them to her. “Do we need to clean out your ears or somethin’? Jesus.” She was shaking her head, feigning disappointment, and you stammered. No, no, you’ve never had an unsatisfied member and you weren’t going to start now. Especially not with Ellie. You felt the urge to please her, go above and beyond and make sure she never had to lift a finger—but she was scoffing and reaching to grab her clubs before you could get out another word. 
“No, no, no Mi-” You caught yourself before you made yet another embarrassing mistake. For the second time. “Ellie. My apologies, I’ll follow you.” It was a bit proper, maybe a bit much…but you had to make it up to her, you had to. Whatever it takes. 
“I want my driver first. You do know which one that is, right?” And she was nasty, voice laced with venom as she called over her shoulder. When did she start walking away? And should your pussy be throbbing over that? You didn’t even respond as you lugged her bag over your shoulder, trailing behind her to catch up to Tommy and Joel. They were still bantering away when you approached, cursing and laughing and hitting each other, like brothers do. 
“Look who finally made it,” Ellie’s eyes rolled when you caught up, so quickly you almost missed it. You were like, fifteen steps behind her, there’s no way that was called for. You stayed silent as you unloaded the clubs off your shoulder, doing your best not to show any hint of negative emotion on your face, propping the bag up before pulling Ellie’s driver out. It was long, and heavy, like all the other expensive ones you’ve seen. All of her clubs looked shiny, you noted, like she had either never used them, or just got them polished. Either of which could be possible, as you’d yet to see her play. She grabbed it from you hastily, and you felt that familiar throb beneath your skirt. Get a fucking grip.
“Gotcha’ all set up here, kiddo,” Joel said enthusiastically, and Ellie didn’t even fake a smile. So, you just watched her take the shot. Boy, did you watch her take the shot. 
Watched the way she got so serious—okay, somehow more serious than before—the way she shuffled her feet behind the tee as she lined up her shot, the way her arms flexed and veins popped as she straightened out her arms, prepping to take the swing. The way she took a split second to glance back while she rotated her body to shoot you the most sickeningly devious wink before sending the ball flying across the course.
Tommy whistled and Joel offered a few strong claps. 
You couldn’t be quite sure that you wouldn’t melt into a puddle right here in the middle of the course. What is it about Ellie, your favorite member’s niece, that was getting you so worked up? For fucks sake, golf isn’t even a sexy sport! It couldn’t have at least been basketball, or something a bit more…normal that did it for you?
Instead, you got Ellie, in all her glory. Strong calves turned away from you as she watched her ball cut through the air, higher and faster and better than you’d ever seen Tommy or Joel hit. Not that they’d ever admit that. 
Your thoughts were getting dirtier by the minute as you watched Ellie play. You felt like a baby deer following her around the course, knees wobbling every time she barked another command at you. 
“Um, my water, please?”
“I said five iron, not six.”
“My ball is dirty. What ‘er you even good for?
You were slipping by the minute, letting your eyes linger over her frame a little longer each time you glanced her way. No way she wasn’t catching on. 
“Take a fucking picture, Princess, it’ll last longer.”
Oops.
And when you pulled back up to the clubhouse, it took everything in you to not just run off. Your heart was beating out of your chest, panties completely ruined with your slick, oh my god you were fucking perverted. You carefully helped Tommy, Joel, and Ellie load up their gear into their respective cars, keeping your mouth shut so as to not squeak out an embarrassing sound. In fact, you couldn’t be quite sure you wouldn’t just moan out loud if Ellie so much as even glanced in your direction unprompted. 
“Great game today, guys.” You smiled sweetly at Joel and Tommy who were now both leaned up against the side of the building, taking refuge from the sun. 
“Well thank ya, sweetheart! Glad you got a chance to meet Ellie today, too,” Joel smiled at you, reaching out to squeeze at your shoulder. “Ellie, why don’t you say thank you to our lovely caddy girl today?” He didn’t use your name, because why would he? You were a convenience to them. Now that you thought about it, Ellie probably didn’t even know your name. Let alone care. 
Her green eyes bore into you for a moment before she grunted out something that sounded suspiciously like a thank you, before tipping her head back to swallow the last of her water. The sight of her throat contracting had you practically running away to do something so devious, you might have to get down on your knees and pray before you went to sleep. 
And Ellie was only human, after all. She was curious, about a lot of things. But more specifically? At this moment? She was wondering where you were scurrying off to. Of course, you weren’t as good about hiding what physical reactions you’d been having to her for the past hour as you thought—the way you’d squirm whenever she caught you staring at her, or how your mouth opened ever so slightly, ever so submissively when she berated you. 
So wherever you were going must be good. 
And oh, was it good. 
Ellie couldn’t believe her eyes, as she trailed behind you. Each time you’d look back, she’d be sure to hide just perfectly out of your view around corners, behind tables….she couldn’t let you know how curious she was, no. Because you see, she was actually good about hiding these sorts of things. She was an asshole, but it wasn’t for no reason. She just couldn’t let you know how the sight of you practically drove her insane—the soft curve of your hips beneath that skirt, the rolls on your belly that led to the plush skin of your breasts that bounced so perfectly with every step you took. That would just ruin the fun of it. My god, were you a sight for Ellie’s sore eyes. 
So now, Ellie watched as you were slipping into a supply closet. Okay…? Perhaps, you had just forgotten something, then. Needed to grab something for another member, or left your bag in there before you started your shift. Nothing interesting. 
But no, Ellie was close enough now that you were safely behind the door, that she could hear the lock ‘click’ softly from inside the supply closet. 
Oh. Oh— she thought. 
And she couldn’t believe her ears, when she heard the faintest sigh. One that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than relief. 
And yeah, you were relieved. 
You couldn’t take it anymore—the last hour you spent with Ellie was absolute torture. Letting her talk down on you, and treat you like you were nothing to her…it shouldn’t have turned you on. You should be upset, embarrassed, angry, furious even. But you were wet. 
Holy fucking shit, you were wet. Your fingers trailed down your tummy as you leaned against the wall in the dark closet, barely illuminated by a tiny window at the top of one wall. Your breath was shaky, eyes closed as you lifted your short skirt, shoving your panties to the side before you felt the top of your fingers graze past your clit, sliding further and further in between your slick folds, so easily, so so easily. 
“Oh!” you caught yourself gasping as you played with yourself, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as a sickly, obscene wet sound began to fill the space of the small closet. This was so wrong…touching yourself at work, thinking about Ellie, so fucking desperate that you had to run away and relieve even just an ounce of the tension you felt inside. 
It only got worse when all you could think about was Ellie’s long fingers, the way they gripped the golf clubs so tenderly, and how you wished so badly that you could replace yours with hers as they slipped inside of you. Your head fell back against the metal rack behind you, and you had no right mind to react to what should have been pain. Instead, you pictured Ellie standing in front of you, and how her eyes would darken with lust as she pressed her body against yours, her hot breath fanning across your face as she fucked her fingers up into you…
And Ellie was going crazy, couldn’t help herself from getting closer and closer to that supply closet door. There was no one in this wing of the club, surely no one would walk by and see her with her ear pressed against a supply closet door…right? It mostly didn’t matter, as something deranged and perverted was consuming her brain. She found herself quite literally pressed against the door, she couldn’t help herself, she had to hear the way you moaned softly and gasped while you worked yourself closer and closer to your release. 
“Oh…oh Ellie!” You breathed wantonly, and Ellie could have cum on the spot. The wet sounds of your ministrations were getting faster and louder as your fingers pressed in and out of you with such force the rack behind you was beginning to rattle. Had you been in your right mind, you should have been mortified. You should have stopped right then and there, pulled yourself together and went home to the privacy of your own home and taken a long, cold shower. But all you could see was that stupid fucking smirk on Ellie’s face as she’d whisper: 
Just fucking cum for me, baby. 
And so you did, slapping your free hand over your mouth to muffle what surely would have been far too loud of a noise as you reached your peak, your body trembling almost violently as the high washed over you. 
Ellie was positively reeling, her ear still pressed to the door almost comically as she listened to you come undone. If anyone were to walk by at this moment it would look utterly suspicious, her all alone in the long hallway, surely looking suspect in her current position. Not to mention she should probably pull away before you had a chance to swing the door open, as she would have absolutely no excuse as to what she was doing here. 
Instead, Ellie continued to listen to your labored breaths as you came down, her pink lips parted softly as she felt her own wetness growing more and more unbearable beneath her shorts. Hell, had the purple silicone she had strapped to her hips been real, there would be absolutely no hiding what your sounds had done to her. She should move away, racing thoughts of oh my fucking god, and I wonder how easy it would be to make her sound like that again, but also to go back to Dad and go the fuck home, goddammit, this is absolutely sick, even for you and— 
“Ellie?!” 
She nearly fell forward from the weight of her body on the door when it swung inwards to reveal your absolutely mortified face, and even more terrified voice. Her eyes were like saucers, surely mirroring yours as you gaped at her, one hand still on the door to leave the possibility of slamming it right back in her face in humiliation. No, no no no no no way this was happening to you. 
Ellie’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she staggered backwards in her surprise, leaving you both just staring each other down in what was surely the most awkward encounter either of you had ever had in your entire life. Her eyes quickly shifted downwards and she took another step back. 
“I- I was just- yeah, okay. Bye.” 
And she was gone. 
-- 
pt 2??????
674 notes · View notes
ldysmfrst · 2 months
Text
American Mate - (3)
Following Instincts
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Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader
Status: Ongoing series
Chapter number: 3 of unknown
Word count for Chapter: 3970
Work count for Story: 12111
Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine
Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, and Cultural differences.
Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?
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Outside the break room, Yoongi is in Alpha space, catching your scent of sweet peas as it changes into a moldy pea soup smell after the comment from the redheaded playmate. Turning with a low and threatening growl, Yoongi’s eyes have gone to his hybrid's bright golden-yellow cat eyes as he blocks you from their sight. Zeroing in on the playmates, tail raised and puffed out, tip twitching back and forth with a snap of irritation, making them all step back and quiet down. Hearing you murmur something in his native tongue and then the frantic footsteps, Yoongi snaps his head to watch your fleeing form disappear into a room down the hall. Taking a quick look back at the playmates, office staff, and then his pack, Yoongi huffs and quickly follows you, unable to fight his Alpha instincts.
The rest of the BTS packmates follow their bonded one closely behind as they feel his need to protect you from the others in the office. Namjoon catches Yoongi by the shoulder, stopping him from attempting to enter the room where you sought refuge. The rest of the pack forms a barricade around their Prime Alpha and packmate, who has entered Alpha space. They all are standing on guard, facing the rest of the people in the office, watching closely for any danger, and keeping the rude humans away. 
“Yoongi, you need to give her space. Remember, she is human and might get scared of your Alpha. What is happening? I need you to get enough control to explain what is happening?” Namjoon calmly speaks to his older packmate. Pushing out calming scents, trying to bring him out of his Alpha space with soothing strokes along his shoulder and back. “Can you come back and explain why you are protecting Miss Y/n?”
Barreling into the front of the group of observers with his tail bushed out and scent-smelling concerned, Derek comes up to the defensive line of BTS, “You have to let me get to her. You have to let me help calm down Y/n. Can’t you scent her distress? She is not doing okay by herself. You can even smell her over the scent-blockers!  I am the closest thing she has to a family. Please let me in to make sure she is okay. Please.”
 One of Yoongi’s black jaguar ears twitch back, hearing the urgency in Derek’s voice. He looks at Namjoon, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he turns to Derek with normal dark eyes, taking in his shifty behaviors and now partly distressed scent. 
Shaking his head slowly to Namjoon, Yoongi steps between his packmates and face-to-face Derek. “You are the closest thing to her family?”
“Yes, She and I were hired together when they decided to start this branch. We work together and spend time together at my den or her apartment. I do my best to protect her from situations like this because of her past. I normally try to keep her away from the playmates in general so things like this do not happen."
"She is only here today because we could not convince her otherwise since in the meeting yesterday with your Manager and what was said on the phone. She was bullied a lot before, and while it is not something that is okay, unfortunately, it still happens to this day. I really tried but I couldn’t do anything to keep her away. She had to be here even with little to no sleep and nightmares."
Bowing slightly but keeping an eye on the pack, Derek demandingly pleads, "Now, please, Mr. Min, please let me pass. Everyone can smell that something has happened. I think she is hurt in more ways than one.”  
The last comment got the attention of the whole pack on him, and everyone looked concerned. Several eyes flashed as their hybrid halves showed their displeasure with the news. Yoongi continued to fight his Alpha instincts with a deep growl and even breaths.
“How can you tell?” Namjoon asks from next to the door. He can smell something, but it tells him nothing since he has never smelt Y/n.
“That moldy smell. Like veggies gone bad?” The hybrids start sniffing, searching for the smell, and scrunching their noses once it hits. “That is why I know something is not right. Y/n, her scent turns like that when she is hurt. I am not sure if it is just emotional but it could be physical too. I can’t tell how bad it is because the scent-blocking measures she took for your arrival are still dulling it down.  Now again. Let me in to help my friend. I may be a Beta but she is like a pack member to me and I protect her like it.”
“Fine, but I am going in with you. I was the one who knocked into her and failed to keep her from falling. My Alpha instincts have gone haywire and I have the need to protect her,” his eyes glaring back at the playmates, “ from certain people here while ensuring she is okay and make amends for my mistake.” Yoongi states without room for argument, moving to the side, nodding to his packmates to make room for them. Once the two are through, the pack retakes their defensive stance, keeping everyone else out. 
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Knocking on the door, Derek calls out softly as he opens it, entering and looking around the room to spot your shaking frame in the farthest and darkest corner. Namjoon shuts the door for privacy and protection while he stands guard just outside, with one ear listening to what is happening inside the room and one ear on the rest of the office. His mind racing from the powerful wave of rotten scent that has built up in the room.
The scent is much more robust in this room. The scent-blocking measures no longer mask your distress and pain. This causes Derek and Yoongi to whine at the smell and quickly move to your side. Derek pulled you into a tight embrace, pushing his scent out and over you and scenting the top of your head while murmuring soft, reassuring words. Yoongi comforts you with his own calming scents, pushing down the desire to pry you out of Derek’s hold to take you into his own. Much to their relief, your tears slow, and your breathing calms after what feels like hours.
“Derek, my nightmares, they came true. I ruined everything. I should have stayed away. I should have been looking where I was going. Reina was right. The one with the black tail, did I hurt him? He... He tried catching me. Me! I weigh a ton.” 
At that last comment, a deep growl resounds from behind you. It takes half a second to realize it is not from the hybrid holding you. Catching your breath and snapping your mouth shut, you cautiously peek through your hair to look behind you to see none other than Mr. Min Yoongi, who turns out to be the owner of said black tail, now snapping to and fro with irritation. 
“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, your mind racing to figure out a way to get out of this situation without causing any further damage and how best to word your resignation letter.
“Miss Y/n, let us address a few things. Firstly, you do NOT weigh a ton, nor will you ever refer to yourself in that manner again. Secondly, I am not injured, nor could you injure me, as I AM an Alpha in my own right and am stronger than I look, even if I am not the Prime Alpha of the Bangtan Pack.” Yoongi’s eyes flashed a different color.
You shrink down to try to make yourself smaller. Seeing your reaction and realizing that his Alphal is trying to be in control again, he takes another deep breath to calm himself, looking between you and Derek.
 “Lastly, would you be so kind as to allow my Alpha to inspect you for injuries? I came out of the observation room door unannounced and ran into you. I tried to prevent you from falling, but we are close in height, and I could not do much other than take what I hoped was the brunt of the fall.”
Turning more towards him but still staying in the safety of Derek’s hold, you look at him with confusion. “Your Alpha? Like your hybrid-side is not yourself?” Looking over your shoulder at Derek, you see him with a smirk and a chuckle on his lips.
“Missy here,” Derek looks at Yoongi, “has never met an Alpha male before. I am a beta, and her best friend is an omega.” Turning his attention back to you, “Unlike Evie and I, an Alpha has an inner animal that they can change into fully at will and it allows them to go into Alpha space to assist in protecting, hunting, and mating.”
You look at Yoongi with wide eyes, “You turn into a black cat?” 
“I am not a black cat,” he huffs in annoyance, eyes flashing a different color briefly. “I am a Black Jaguar hybrid, and I am trying my best to keep him at bay because he can sense that your emotions have calmed down, but you are still in pain.” 
His eyes roam over your figure, stopping when he notices you are cradling your right wrist. Standing up and motioning to a nearby chair, he asks,  “Please, can I inspect you for injuries? I can see you are being careful with your right hand.”
With a gentle push from behind you, you move to the chair Yoongi gestured to. Derek also stands up but keeps his distance, watching how the two of you interact. Yoongi kneels before you, “I have to let my Alpha see for himself. I promise he will not harm you. Mr. Gulley can attest to that at this point, my Alpha would have much rather hurt himself than you.” 
Glancing at Derek, he nods with a knowing smile while taking a seat a few tables over. Taking a moment to collect yourself, running your good hand through your hair and fixing your shirt, you look down at the hybrid. With a slight smirk, he looks at you with kind eyes,  “Miss Y/n, please allow me to check for injuries. You have no reason to be nervous. You look perfect as you are.” 
Blushing slightly at his words, you nod and tuck your hair behind your ear. You watch him closely as his dark brown eyes slowly change into a stunning golden-yellow color, with the pupil elongating into a pointed oval. His ears and tail moved this way and that, never quite settling in one position for very long. Your scent turns slightly back to sweet peas as the sight makes you smile softly. 
Cautiously, Yoongi kneels closer to you to become within reaching distance. Taking your left ankle gently in his hand, he rotates it, bends your leg at the knee, and sniffs at each joint. He repeats the process with the other side as well. Finding that nothing in your legs seems to be hurting, he looks at your face again with a short, pleased chirping sound. 
Scooting a little closer, he reaches out to your left hand, bends your elbow, feels along your fingers one by one, then rotates your wrist and again seems to sniff along the joints. 
You fidget in your seat, knowing what comes next will hurt, but you don't know how the hybrid in front of you will react. Noticing your movements and the slight change in your scent, Yoongi wraps his tail around your ankle to offer support. A slight sense of pride fills him when your scent calms down at his gesture of comfort, even if you do not realize it. 
Taking your right hand, he follows the same steps, pausing slightly before he rotates your wrist. You let out a yelp of pain and bite your bottom lip as you try to pull your hand out of his grip, which only causes him to hold it just a little bit tighter with one hand while the other quickly reaches to the nape of your neck to bring you into an awkward hug. Your head is now resting on his shoulder with your nose breathing against his neck, your good hand going to his side and gripping his shirt. 
Once the pain has dulled, you realize you smell the rain, not like fresh rain but like petrichor or the earth after a good downpour. It is comforting and relaxes you even more until you hear a soft chuffing noise and remember who you are smelling. 
Pulling away, you shyly look back at Yoongi, still observing you with golden-yellow eyes and holding your wrist firm but gently. “Umm... I think I just landed on it wrong. Just some ice and pain meds should be okay. I will be good as new tomorrow,” you say with a false smile, trying to play it off as no big deal.
However, Yoongi’s ears flatten, and his feline eyes narrow at you while nodding down to your wrist. Following his line of sight, you now see that your wrist is slightly swollen and is covered with a lovely purple color. “Okay, maybe I won’t be as good as new tomorrow.”
Derek stands up and approaches the two of you to see the damage done. Taking a sharp breath, he looked at Yoongi and froze, noting that the Alpha was sternly watching his every move. 
“Mr. Min, please remember I am like family, a pack, as you could say, with Y/n. I am also not a mate, nor am I looking to make her one. Will you allow me to get your Prime Alpha and Manager so we can decide how to move forward?”
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Outside the breakroom, Mr. Johnson, the director of PMS USA, was informed there was an incident and is now standing with Manager Sejin outside the BTS barrier. He had ordered Reina and the other playmates to be escorted back into the conference room by some other staff. 
Mr. Johnson had hand-picked you to be the friendly first face of PMS because you light up any room you walk into and are always willing to put in the extra time to help make things perfect on or off the clock. 
“Hello, I am the director, I really should go in there and make sure my employee is okay, Manager Sejin,” Mr. Johnson states, glancing at the members of BTS as they continue to block the door and growl at anyone who walks near them. 
“Why are they not letting anyone near the door? I am sorry. I know about hybrids from the symposiums and conferences but rarely interact with many. I typically leave that up to my staff.” Glancing over at the hamster hybrid.
“Namjoon-ssi, do you want me to answer that, or would you like to?” Manager Sejin asks while watching Mr. Johnson. Namjoon redirects his attention from the breakroom to the seemingly incompetent human before him.
Taking a few slow steps forward, Hoseok takes over guarding the break room door. Namjoon comes to stand with his pack, but nearer to Mr. Johnson and Manager Sejin, he says, “Mr. Johnson, we are a pack. More so, we are a pack of Alpha hybrids. Ranging from prey to predator types. We are a bonded pack on top of that, which means it’s all or none. We all are protective of something or someone if one of us feels the need. When one of us is hurt, we are all hurting with them.”
Looking at each of his packmates, Namjoon is filled with a sense of pride. Though they don’t know the extent of what has happened, they still support their mate to the best of their ability in a foreign country without question.
“Yoongi is feeling protective of Miss Y/n because of a few things. Y/n is injured because of an accident caused by Yoongi. She is not in a good emotional state because of your Playmates’ behavior due to the same accident.” He looks back at the Director, trying to maintain a more neutral expression to hide his disdain for the women now in some office somewhere.
“As an Alpha, our animals require us to hold ourselves to a higher standard than others. We like to try and ensure those around us are happy. With a very select few, we want to make sure they are also healthy and protected, among other things. In Yoongi’s Alpha space, he has failed to meet these standards when it comes to Y/n. It is now beyond his control, so to speak, to do anything other than fix his mistakes and ensure Y/n’s safety, recovery, and happiness. This means the Bangtan Pack is now responsible for the same.”
“Oh well. Um. I see. I can reassure you that Playmate Services has a good doctor who can tend to her if she needs one, and of course, she can have the rest of today and even tomorrow off. No need to make a fuss.”
A deep growl rips from behind Namjoon, causing everyone to look and see that Taehyung's eyes have gone crystal blue. His scent of burning ebony wood crashed over the pack. “You seem to be in over your head, Mr. Johnson. You have more than one hybrid working for you, yet you know nothing. Your company's incompetence is allowing bullying. From what one of your staff says, it has been happening for quite some time and yet you do nothing about it. Did you not hear our Prime Alpha tell you that she is ours now. We will take her to get treated by our medical professionals. We will take care of her to ensure she heals properly and regains a better state of mind. Not you.”
“Hyung, it’s okay. Calm down, please. We don’t need two of you in Alpha space right now. It will not help Miss Y/n or Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook steps up next to Taehyung, scenting his neck gently as his snickerdoodle scent pushes out, causing the blue to flicker back to his natural dark brown. 
With a last glare and a mumbled, “Pathetic, oblivious human.” He moves closer to Hoseok and, in turn, you. Jungkook quickly follows in an attempt to keep the high-tempered White Southwest African Tiger calm and get closer to you as well. 
“You may have misunderstood me, gentlemen. I have tried to deal with the playmates and their disrespectful actions towards Y/n and some of the other staff. Sadly, Reina is a top pick and brings in a lot of money. Since we are the newest and smallest branch, the corporate office wants to refrain from taking any disciplinary actions for fear that she will quit. They think that any of the office staff are replaceable, whereas reliable Playmates are harder to find.”
“Mr. Johnson, while that may be the case prior to today, their bullying has gone too far. Manager Sejin,” Namjoon says, “I believe it would be wise if the director took care of the bullying by the playmates and joined them for the time being. We need a few moments without interruptions to assess what is happening and how the Pack will move forward with this office, if at all.” 
Dismissing the director to be dealt with by Manager Sejin, Namjoon walks back to the door, which is now being guarded by Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook. The scent of snickerdoodle, ebony wood, and lilac mix together with the pack scent of vanilla underneath.
“... can’t tell?”
“Can’t tell what?” Namjoon asks the small group.
“Hobi can’t tell,” replies Jungkook while Taehyung nods in agreement. 
“The boys say that their Alphas are reacting to Y/n but I can’t tell if mine does or not. You spoke to her, stood right in front of her. Namjoon, can you tell?”
“Oh? Hmm, I guess I haven’t really paid attention. After what happened with… you know who… I guess I have been pushing my Alpha to the back as much as I could. I have been focusing on taking care of you guys, my mates, first and I couldn’t do that with him pacing in my head so much. She really tore Yoongi, Join, and Hobi apart inside with what she said. ” 
Namjoon started thinking back to hearing your voice, full of determination and strength, over the phone yesterday. Your care, intention, and respect for the pack that you have shown today. It would be simple to say that his Alpha was comfortable around you, and from how the pack’s scents have been, he wasn’t the only one who was.
“My Alpha is comfortable with y/n, but I wouldn’t say that he is reacting in any particular way.”
A soft whine leaves Jungkook. “Why do the older mates always walk with blinders on? Huh! You need to really let your Alpha look at her. My Alpha hasn’t wanted to look away from her since we walked into the office.”
“Joon, I am with Kookie on this one. While I wasn’t drawn in right away, I trust Yoongi's Alpha not to react this way with just anyone. So when he ran after her, I was the closest one to the door and before the pack’s scent took over, I could smell vanilla with something rotten. At first, I thought it was a candle or something, but I looked around. There are no candles.”
Taehyung’s comment on smelling vanilla caught the attention of Jimin and Seokjin. Turning to join the conversation while still trying to maintain the barrier, Jimin speaks up.
“So it wasn’t just me. When Yoongi and that man went in, I smelled vanilla with almost a compost-like smell. After that, my Alpha wanted nothing but to keep everyone, human or hybrid, away from this door. He is really fighting to be at the front.”
“I figured that our muscle bunny was just leaning into his instincts of being a bunny when he was speaking about Y/n in the conference room. Yet it didn’t explain to me why my Alpha felt awkward at her bowing to me when I spoke to her before going into the room.” Seokjin commented with a stern but thoughtful look. 
“Wait, wait, wait!” Hoseok moves away from the door slightly, his expression confused and frustrated. “Are you telling me that you have all had some kind of reaction from your Alphas for the human lady behind the door? Some of you smelled vanilla, too?”
They all look at Hoseok and then at Namjoon, waiting for them to come to the same conclusion. After a few tense moments had passed, it was like a lightbulb went off over Hoseok's head as his lilac scent burst with a bit more hints of rose and vanilla. Everyone now focuses on Namjoon.
Namjoon’s head is racing over every moment that has happened since walking in the door. As Prime Alpha, his responsibilities for the pack are more significant than others, and with what the boys are hinting at, the next few moments will change so much. 
“Her reactions were top-notch with our pack, and her showing an exceeding amount of respect to the packmates could be just her professionalism.” More whines and a few soft growls are heard. Looking up, Namjoon makes eye contact with each of his mates standing before him. 
“However, only the vanilla scent can mean one thing which won’t be easy for the human woman.” Taking a deep breath, the pack turned their attention to the door.
“We have an American Mate.”
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bonny-kookoo · 9 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 [Part 1: Goldrush]
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There's always a certain sense of childish sadness in a man consumed by rage and anger- because in a man like him, those feelings are simply born from the pain of the past, and the crushing fear of what the future might yet make him face.
Tags/Warnings: Mafia!Tiger!Jungkook, Deer!Reader, mentioned abuse, mentions of underground fights, graphic descriptions of violence, a gun oh no, Jungkook in a suit, it's pretty dark read at your own risk, there is like a hint of fluff?, just let me cook I promise it'll be worth it, do not read this if you're easily triggered/upset by dark and violent themes please thank you
Length: 6.5k Words (oh boy look at the size of that thing)
There is no taglist for this fic.
A/N: Haha remember when I said it'll be 3k words per chapter? well I lied oops
-> Masterlist
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Jungkook met you after his first fight for the Golden House.
Humming a tune you'd almost danced through the kitchen- though you were mostly focused on helping the other maids and cooks prepare the food for the higher up's currently invited for dinner at the estate. He remembers he'd scared you- probably due to his rather beat up face, none of it having been treated most of the time, just so he could scar up and look tough on the outside.
It had worked- somewhat. Though his hybrid genes had made it rather difficult to hurt him enough to permanently scar- all of them eventually fading, needing to be remade, night after night.
The look of fear in your eyes had been something he got used to- or maybe he simply didn't notice it after a while, maybe it became normal to see you in a constant state of fight or flight. He never saw you rest, only saw you work- but when you were away from the Boss and only amongst yourself or him, you had a certain sense of lightness to yourself. Like a feather, as cliché as it sounds.
If it wasn't for your hybrid features, Jungkook would've sworn you were more of a bird than a deer- put in a cage, fear used against yourself to lock you in and to the Golden House forever. Just like he himself was shackled up, bought and owned by the highest man just so he could have some amusement watching the tiger hybrid fight in the ring.
He was a toy to him. Just like you. Just like any other hybrid at the Golden House.
Sometimes, when no one was paying much attention, you'd visit Jungkook in his room. You'd clean his wounds, and most of all- you'd talk to him like an equal. You'd tell him of dreams you had at night, of thoughts you'd come up with during your chores, or with fantasies you had about the world outside the walls of the estate. And he'd listen to all of it, quietly, your voice soothing his wounds more than any medication ever could.
Maybe your fear towards him didn't just become normal to him, so he didn't notice it. Maybe it disappeared, slowly, and that's why it left your gaze. You didn't fear him. Didn't see him as an enemy. And maybe that's what really changed.
It was winter when he found out about the consequences to your actions.
He'd spotted you outside in the snow, white flakes falling steadily onto your head and clothes, feet naked and red from the cold. It was punishment- for caring for him, doing something you weren't told to. You'd hidden it, kept it a secret so he probably wouldn't feel bad- but the true nature of it was more selfish than that. "I don't want you to stop talking to me." You'd said when he'd confronted you about it. "I don't want you to ignore me like everyone else does." You'd cried. He hadn't even spoken much to you at all, and yet the few words he'd gifted to you were more than you had ever received before.
And so he had to compromise, and instead tried harder not to get injured in the ring, so no one would notice when you'd help him heal.
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He knows that you saw the signs when his mind had started to slip. When his anger grew, and his sanity took a backseat inside his head.
Especially when the Head of the estate had decided it would be a delight to make you watch Jungkook fighting in the ring every time he had to as a way of trying to make you stop your foolish actions of helping the fighting hybrid- to show you how cruel and brutal the otherwise quiet and reserved tiger could really be, as he'd dislocate limbs and break bones night after night with a certain sense of bloodthirst in his gaze, eyes no longer kind but cold. How he'd bite and scratch with pure intent to hurt and end the fight in his favor, no matter the outcome for his opponent.
Jungkook knows that your view on him changed back then, even if you did not tell him that. He could feel it, in the way your hands would begin to tremble before touching him, or how you'd suddenly no longer reach out to him.
Gone was your attachment to him, murdered was any emotional connection you'd been creating.
At the end of the day, you had been nothing but a puppet to the head of the Golden House, nothing but a doll fed with orders because no matter what, you'd do it if it meant you'd survive another day. You would've probably even killed him if it had been asked of you- even though he wouldn't have let you.
You wouldn't have stood a chance against him.
The kiss you'd shared had been more than questionable, and he does feel bad about the circumstances back then.
He knew that it could've gotten you killed if anybody had ever caught you both, and he also knows that if it wasn't for his own initiative, you would've never made that step either. But he loved you, he loved you so much it hurt, and he hated being hurt because it was a constant for him he could never escape.
Everything he did, every situation he found himself in, every waking moment had been nothing but pain in one way or another. Nothing could soothe that ache in his body, could somehow make that burn in his bones feel a little lighter.
Nothing but your touch.
You cared. Even though he knew that you feared him, you still cared. And he hated it.
Why didn't you push him away, make him angry at you so he could have a solid reason to just get rid of you? The only reason he continued to endure wasn't so he could survive- he never gave a fuck about survival, none at all. But the heartbreak in your eyes, the fact that you'd be alone, the memory of you crying so bitterly about being ignored and put aside was continuously making him pull himself back up whenever knocked down, to win the fight and come back to the Golden House-
where you'd wait for him, soft hands on his skin relieving his rage just for a moment. Giving him a second to breathe. Where you'd kiss his wounds, and lift all the weight off of him for just a second.
And then you betrayed him.
"Thats a train ticket! I got it from Chun, she said it'll take you to busan." You'd told him, panic in your eyes as you'd pushed the slightly torn canvas bag filled with clothes and other necessities further into his arms. "After your fight tonight, there will be a dog hybrid named Min Yoongi in the locker room. He'll take you to the station.!" You said.
"And you?" He asks, dreading the answer he'd inevitably get.
"I'll be your insurance." You'd smiled.
"He'll take all his anger out on you-" He'd worried, and you'd nodded, and never looked so brave.
"I know." You'd told him. "But you'll live- and that's enough for me."
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"Flake has been replaced with Dohyun. The people aren't very happy with it, but he'll make them accept the change soon enough." Namjoon offers, setting some papers down in front of Jungkook, who looks like he might be asleep- face resting on his hand, arm perched up with his elbow on the armrest of his chair.
"Hm, they're never happy when a hybrid's on top." He mumbles lowly, eyes not opening. "I assume Flake didn't go… voluntarily." He asks.
"No." Namjoon responds. "Was executed on his balcony."
"Classy. I like it." Jungkook chuckles, eyes slowly opening as he takes in a deep breath. "Hm, I'm hungry-" He starts, looking at his watch on his wrist. "-let's hope Hideo doesn't piss me off tonight, or I might just have to swap him too." He growls, slowly getting up to prepare for the dinner he has to attend with the human gangleader.
Jungkook had the chance to get out. He's been given the chance after all, by the only person he's ever really considered he 'loved'- and yet his thirst for blood wouldn't let him go. The need for revenge was way too big inside him to be just satisfied with living his own life away from his past- but he couldn't.
They took everything he ever had away from him. They took you away from him. And he'd never forgive that.
So he began to convince Yoongi to join him in his plans, took the first few pillars out to make the fundamentals of the underground gang life crumble. He shook up the entire game, and began to 'swap out' human leaders with hybrids from his own rows- a gang he'd build up himself, consisting of almost exclusively hybrids of all kinds. He knows he's not doing any good with the way he's doing things- but he doesn't care.
If he can't change the game, he'll become the best player instead.
And currently, he's definitely on the road to take the seat as the king.
"Jungkook!" The rather eccentric man stands up, opens his arms for the hybrid who does not attempt to return the gesture or accept the invitation at all. "My favorite big cat, come take a seat!" He laughs it off, sits down with Jungkook, who keeps his face stoic and expressionless. "Can we have some chairs here please? I'd hate for your friends to stay standing while we eat-" He tries, but Jungkook shakes his head.
"No need. I'd rather have them pay at attention." Jungkook responds, and Hideo laughs in front of him.
"Always so on edge. Never change my boy!" He jokes, before the food is being placed on the table. "So. I heard you let Flake tumble down his balcony like a dramatic movie-climax." He chuckles, cutting into his steak. Jungkook nods, begins to eat as well, but keeps his eyes on the man in front of him. "Quite the spectacle. Made the higher up's a little nervous." He tells him.
"Good." Jungkook simply answers, and Hideo laughs.
Hideo is one of the only few human leaders left in his original spot- mainly because the man is rather interested in surviving, and keeping his head in one piece. He's smart, albeit a little bit unhinged- sometimes even causing Jungkook himself to feel uneasy around the man. He's a wildcard, and does what he wants whenever he wants, only follows rules if they're in his favor.
So Jungkook is wary of him, and doesn't trust that man as far as the bridge of his own nose.
"They say his minions aren't too happy with your new choice." The man mumbles, shrugging his shoulders however, clearly unbothered. "But they just don't like the change. What you should worry about however, is the money you're loosing." He says, making Jungkook's eyes sharpen.
"What money are you talking about?" He asks, finishing up his plate.
"The money you're not aware of." Hideo chuckles. "Flake had two daughters, and rumor has it they both emptied their bank accounts a few days before you struck and pushed Rapunzel down her tower." The man informs him, licking his knife while looking at Jungkook, who tries hard to make nothing visible on his face. He knows exactly what the man is trying to tell him.
Somehow, those daughters knew Jungkook would attack. Which in turns, means someone told them.
Which hints at a snitch.
"Sakata is currently finding them as we speak, so no worries about that." Hideo suggests, finishing his meal as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. "The only thing you should do, would be to.. sniff out who needs to go, so to speak." He says, grinning at Yoongi, who pins his ears back in irritation at the joke. Jungkook leans back, tilts his head once, before he stands up.
"I want to know the whereabouts of those two daughters the moment you have them." Jungkook says dryly. "Do not kill them. I want to.. talk to them personally." He orders, and Hideo laughs, nodding with his hands clapping once.
"Of course! Oh and-" The human man grins, and it tells Jungkook that the man has something to say that will definitely cause problems. "-I heard my dear Chisoo left you a present at your estate?" He says, catching Jungkook off guard for a second, as the tiger hybrid looks to his side towards Namjoon, who shares an equally confused gaze. "Oh, you've not seen it yet? Hm, it does explain his good mood, doesn't it?" Hideo asks one of his guards who doesn't react. "Ah, I really liked that guy. Don't be too harsh on the boy, yeah? He doesn't know how to.. read a room, you know? His jokes can be terrible." He laughs.
Jungkook slowly leaves, but as soon as he sits inside the back of his car, he's growling out orders. "Call Chisoo right now." He demands Namjoon, who already dials the number. "If he doesn't answer we'll pay him a visit right now." He says, waiting for the speaker system of his car to reveal the voice of the man.
"Jungkook! What's up my guy?" The young voice chimes out.
"Cut the shit. What did you do?" Jungkook demands, and Chisoo just laughs on the other end.
"Oh you've not seen it yet? I thought you'd like it!" He says, clearly eating. "Saw the poor thing and remembered something I heard from a former guard of the Golden House." He chuckles, and Jungkook's blood runs cold. "Look man, I have some urgent business right now. If you don't want it, you can just get rid of it- I won't judge." He laughs, before he hangs up the phone.
"Tell Seokjin to check the premises before we drive back." Yoongi informs him from the driver's seat, instructing Namjoon who calls the man right away.
"Seokjin." Jungkook says as the phone is picked up. "What the fuck did Chisoo bring?" He demands to know, and grows increasingly uneasy when the answer isn't what he hoped he'd get.
"I.. you should just not worry about it. It was probably meant to just anger you." He tells the tiger hybrid, not specifying things. "I've already dealt with.. it, just-"
"That's not your decision to make." Jungkook growls. "I'm on my way back right now, and I want whatever it is in my office before I'm back at the estate. Am I making myself clear?" He demands.
"..yes." Seokjin simply complies, though with great hesitation.
Because he knows, the moment Jungkook knows what it is, there will be nothing capable of calming Jungkook down.
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One, two, three.
You're counting each tick of the clock standing on the table in the office, waiting for something to happen. That's all you've been instructed to do- the man earlier having escorted you here, and just told you to 'wait', and nothing else. So you do just that, naked feet on the soft carpet, intricate details on the fabric almost hypnotizing you. It's already a lot warmer in here than in your room at the Golden House- and the man who brought you here had given you his jacket too, probably because he thought you were shaking from the cold.
Which you did- but you also tend to shiver from fear, mostly due to your hybrid instincts.
Just.. in here, you don't really feel scared. It smells familiar in here, like something you forgot existed- almost like a childhood memory, far away but reawakened right in this moment. It soothes your worries and slows down your thoughts tremendously.
ninety-four, ninety-five, ninety-six.
You can hear faint noises now, ears turning towards the door behind you, though your body otherwise doesn't move. you don't dare to, since the handcuffs around your wrists might make a noise, and no one told you if you were allowed to move anyways. So you just stay still, even when you can hear someone argue in front of the door, angrily, upset. The voice is familiar, again- but you don't recall a face to it whatsoever.
One hundred.
The door opens, people walk in. Your face stays lowered, you don't even dare to swallow the saliva in your mouth. "Why the fuck did he send me a hybrid?!" Someone growls, and it makes your throat clog up, angry tone causing your muscles to tremble once more. "Fuck. And why is she not-" He starts, before he stops right next to you, frozen in place almost like you are- though due to different reasons.
"Jungkook-" Someone sighs, when Jungkook next to you talks again, but in a truly bone-chilling tone.
It's so low, and steady, that it makes everyone wordlessly follow the command.
"Out." He says. "Everyone, out, right fucking now." He growls, and both Namjoon and Yoongi leave, though the dog hybrid hesitates a little- shocked as well by the sight of you, most likely.
Once the door closes, it quiets down. All you can really hear is the way the man called Jungkook walks around, paces for a good while, clearly in distress. You're not sure why you're causing him to be like this- maybe he doesn't know if he wants to kill you or not. Or he's fighting primal urges to hunt you down as a predator hybrid. It could be a lot of things.
You lost track of the ticking. You can't hear it properly with Jungkook moving around like that.
"Don't- stop doing that.!" He suddenly says, and you notice yourself panicking. What are you doing right now? You're not moving, you're not looking at him, and neither have you said anything- though that's out of the question anyways. What are you doing that you need to stop? You're barely even breathing- maybe that's it? It's an odd request, and you doubt you can properly follow it for long, but if he wants you to do that-
"Stop being scared!" He suddenly roars at you, hands on your shoulders making you whimper out of pure instinct, as you watch his chest rise and fall rapidly. "Don't-.. I'm not.." He stammers, before he takes a deep breath, seems to control himself as his hands leave your shoulders, instead push themselves into the pockets of his slacks. "Look at me." He demands, and you do just that.
His hair is fairly long, growing over his ears, curly and a deep black. There's two round tiger ears between his wild hair, one of them a little torn, but the scar seems long healed. His eyes are piercing, watching you intently as if he's searching for something with desperation, jawline sharp but his face has a certain roundness to it.
It doesn't distract you from the danger he radiates, tail swaying impatiently behind him. He's a tiger, in every way- large shoulders and powerful muscles unable to be hidden even underneath the suit he wears.
But there's a certain shift in his posture and most of all his gaze as he seems to realize something about you.
"Who am I." He asks, or more so orders you to answer. You begin to panic once more. How are you supposed to answer that? "Who. Am. I." He repeats slower, and you open your mouth to say something-
though no coherent word leaves your lips, only barely a noise that even sounds like it hurts, and it makes your eyes sting.
Jungkook seems to grow angry again. Is he upset that you can't answer? Will he kill you now, because you're unable to give him a proper response?
"Do-" He looks absolutely devastated, and for some reason, it makes you sad. "Do you know who I am?" he quietly asks, bracing himself for the answer he might receive.
Though nothing could prepare him for the pain he feels in his entire body when you quietly shake your head, confirming his worst fears.
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You've not only forgotten him- but everything else too, it seems like, according to Namjoon, who'd been trying to sort you out since Jungkook left you in his office, unable to really have you close like that any longer. His friend had tried it all, and had also let someone with medical knowledge have a look at you- which also gave an explanation about why you just won't talk.
You can't. It's not clear what exactly must've happened, but there's a definite injury there that won't let you make any sound without pain.
It's now pretty obvious to him that you must've gotten caught giving him a way out- and you probably paid the consequences for it too. Whatever happened caused you to forget most of your past, and no one can be sure if it's permanent, or just temporary. What is clear however is that you're completely hollow. There's no trace of a personality in anything you do, no personal preferences towards anything, no interest, not even very noticeable emotions.
It's not surprising to him- and maybe that's what pains him the most.
"So if you don't tell her what to do, she will just do nothing at all?" Jungkook asks as he looks through some documents to distract himself. The more he thinks about you, the darker the possible punishments that you most likely received become in his head- mind forcing scene after scene of you into his brain.
"Won't even sleep if no one tells her to. She was awake the whole night because no one told her when to sleep I guess." Namjoon says, arms crossed. "It's hard to tell what she's thinking considering she doesn't talk." Namjoon sighs defeated, while Jungkook stares at the papers for a moment.
You used to talk a lot, back when he was still used for underground fighting, and you were nothing but a maid for the gangleader. He remembers you humming random songs while dressing his wounds- something you told him was to mostly distract yourself from not crying in front of him.
"I'll fight better next time." He'd told you while you carefully placed the large plaster onto one of the scratches that's still bleeding. "So you won't have to cry."
"I want every bit of info as to where she came from before Chisoo got his hands on her." He tells Yoongi who's been sitting in the corner.
"I believe Chisoo bought her straight from the Golden House. Overheard him talk to one of the guests." Yoongi responds, and Jungkook nods.
"Good." He smirks, standing up, and bracing his hands on the table with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. "I've got some unfinished business with them anyways." He says. The Golden House was no longer a place of fear for him- because just like you, Jungkook isn't who he used to be.
"You're going to start a war over a hybrid friend you made years ago?" Namjoon worries. "Jungkook.." he sighs, but the Tiger hybrid doesn't back down.
Because you're not just a friend.
You were his Savior, the only soft thing he's ever had in his life.
"No. I'm not just starting a war-" Jungkook growls like the predator he is. "I'm getting my revenge."
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Yoongi watches over you like a guard dog, just like Jungkook had told him to.
You'd overheard the tall tiger hybrid give those instructions to Yoongi just before he left in his car, and now you're left standing in the hallway where someone last told you to wait. "Come. You need to eat." The dog hybrid mumbles, walking a step before he checks if you follow. You do.
Of course you do.
You'd jump out the fucking window if someone told you to do so.
Before you were taken in by the Golden House, you'd actually roamed the streets with the dog hybrid together. You'd slept in a storage unit his past owner had rented before he died, a small place of shelter you eventually shared with Yoongi before you met Yuan Shun, the past head of the Golden House. You'd been way too naive back then. Told Yoongi you'd finally found a home to go to, finally found work to pay him back all his kindness.
You didn't know what you'd get yourself into. Not before Shun had forced you to get the small tattoo on your wrist that would forever bind you to him no matter if he died or lived. Every member of the Golden House had to get it one way or another- there was no way around it.
It was burned into everyone's wrist, whether they wanted it or not.
And once you're in, there is no out.
"Jungkook won't harm you." Yoongi says as he pulls out a bowl of something prepared, before he puts it into the microwave to heat it up. "He's just.. he can be a bit.." the dog hybrid sighs, shaking his head a little, unsure how to phrase it properly. Jungkook has his own problems, and it's pretty obvious to everyone around him that he's not the sanest of people any longer. No one can blame him for cracking a few braincells after what's happened to him, that's true- but that doesn't mean that he's a monster.
He's just scarred by his past, and haunted by his potential future.
You want to ask Yoongi what your connection to the tiger hybrid is. You really do- but you also feel like it's none of your business. If anything, you're simply waiting for orders, for a job you'll be working as from now on, a task you'll be given in this new place. The dynamic of things here is confusing to you, how everyone seems to walk freely, no one ever standing in one place waiting to be needed. You even saw someone laughing in one of the hallways.
It's eerie. You don't like it here.
"Eat." Yoongi says, before he holds your wrist, one of his ears twitching in irritation when he notices it's the one with the fine lined burn mark of the Golden House. "- when it's cooled down a little, of course." He sighs, and you nod after a moment, staring at the bowl of pasta.
Waiting. Counting the ticking from the clock in the kitchen.
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"I don't give a flying fuck-" Jungkook growls, knee connecting with the man's jaw once more before he pushes the chair back, gripping his face to force him to look at him. "-about your so-called loyalty." He finishes his sentence. "The only reason I'm not breaking your jaw yet is because I need you to be able to talk." He threatens, before he steps back, and wipes his hand on a tissue.
"I'm not talking. Daeho will-" He starts, when Jungkook slowly and carefully loads a black gun in his hand, pulling the magazine back to ready it in his hands.
"Daeho will what?" Jungkook almost sings. "Kill you?" He asks with feigned innocence in his tone, while he walks forward, and points the nuzzle of the gun straight at the man's kneecap. "How nice. But you see, I'm not Daeho." The tiger tells him, tilting his head a little.
"And I'm not nice."
A shot rings through the small room, followed by agonized screaming, and the gun reloading in Jungkook's hands. "Now, I'll try again. Why did Daeho sell her to Chisoo?" He asks, and the man takes a few deep breaths.
"He wanted to fuck with you." He grits out from between his teeth. "He knew it would piss you off. He technically wanted to send you a tape- you know what kind." He says, and Jungkook's blood boils up again. Of course he knows what kind of actions that sick man would have forced you to do, what exactly he'd make Jungkook watch. "But he thought-.." The man needs to catch himself a little. "He thought it'd make more sense to give her to you instead. Alive."
"Why?" Jungkook asks.
"Because you'd lose your fucking- whatever the fuck you're doing!" He groans. "You'd turn soft. Maybe even break at the sight of her all fucked up like she is now." He explains. "That's why he messed her up before you got her." he says, clearly sweating now from his body trying to keep up with the rapid bloodloss.
Jungkook is silent, before he unloads the gun, clicks the safety in place, and puts it back into it's holster on his belt, turning to leave the room. "Wait- wait, what about me-!"
"You can bleed out right here like the pig you are."
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
Nothing will ever return to what it once was.
Mostly, because whatever was, isn't any better than what is now. The blood staining Jungkook's hands is still the same consistency as back in the fighting ring, it still washes down the drain the same way as it did before. There's nothing new to the way his knuckles hurt from the force of the punches he'd delivered to the man, and yet, there's a new sting in his chest that just won't leave.
Before you came here, he had at least a way of pacifying his worries about you. Before, he'd been able to just convince himself that you probably got yourself killed for him- that you'd been set free after all, finally escaping your cage once and for all.
The fact that you did not, and instead just went from one cage to the next, makes him nauseous. He doesn't even want to know what you had to endure throughout the years you'd been apart. Now you're just a shell- a plastic lifeless version of what you once were, nothing of your soul remaining inside of you. Could he even consider you 'you' any longer? Or were you now someone else?
Are you someone at all?
"Where is she?" Jungkook asks Seokjin, who'd brought him a plate of dinner into his office.
"She's eating with Yoongi downstairs in the kitchen." He tells his boss and friend, who's currently looking outside the window facing the balcony. "What do we do with her?"
I don't know, is what Jungkook's only answer can be. Because he surely doesn't- he's unsure if actually killing you would be a more generous thing to do than letting you simply waste away in the state that you're in right now. What you are, in this moment, can't be called 'alive'. There's nothing living behind those eyes, nothing but fear.
But he also knows that he'd never be able to put the gun to your head and shoot.
"Can I give a suggestion?" Jin asks after a moment of silence, and Jungkook turns his head, nodding. "What if you turn this whole 'joke' around?"
"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks, body now moving as well to face his older friend.
"Right now, her presence is doing exactly what it's supposed to." The cat hybrid says. "She's making you lose focus, makes you act without thinking. That's what they want."
"I'm not killing her." Jungkook defends.
"I'm not asking you to." Seokjin says, walking closer. "But think about it. What about her is making you feel like this the most?" He urges.
The fear you have. The fact you forgot him. The terror in your eyes. The emptiness you represent.
"Jungkook, you told me once that back then, she was the only thing keeping you sane in that place." The man says, white ears twitching between his hair. "And she can become just that once again."
"Have you seen her?" Jungkook growls.
"Have you?" Jin challenges. "You're in a place of power here. You call the shots, this-" He gestures around. "-all of this is yours. You offer us protection, a home, a place to let our guard down for once. You're not who you were before. You turned your life around- and you can do it again, but this time, it'll be her's." He says, and suddenly, Jungkook understands what his friend is trying to tell him.
This is his place. His territory. He's in charge. He's in control.
Nothing will ever return to what it once was.
Because he'll be the change it needs to turn this twisted joke around.
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
"Remember, he's nothing to be scared of." Yoongi tells you, before he opens the door, and gently pushes you inside by your lower back- before he leaves you alone with the tiger hybrid in the room, no longer wearing his jacket, only dressed in a casually unbuttoned black shirt and slacks.
Even his gun is on the table. You could take it at any moment, shoot him, no problem. You know how to shoot a gun. Is he that stupid?
Probably not. There has to be a reason for his actions- you don't think he got to his position by being reckless.
He moves slowly, a lot more confident and most of all relaxed than when you last saw him- the person he is right in this moment a stark contrast to who he'd been when he first saw you. It makes you suspicious, unsure, because if he houses so many different versions of himself inside his body, how could you ever know who the real one is?
"The rules in this house, and under my hand, are simple." He says, voice surprisingly calm as he speaks. "Loyalty." He states, looks at you- and from the fact alone that he doesn't seem to mind, you guess that Yoongi was right when he said that you were allowed to do that. "As long as you don't betray me, I will offer you a safe place, and protection."
That doesn't make sense to you.
If that was true, that would mean that he'd just take in random people just because they don't snitch on him- what the hell would he even get out of that? Inside the Golden House, there were already rumors about him. That he's possessed by the drive to 'change the game' and put hybrids up on top, an odd way to live since apparently he'd escaped this entire circus years prior. Why would he willingly return to it?
Even worse, play the game he barely managed to get out of?
He sits down on the edge of his bed, and only now do you realize where exactly you might be right now. And it confuses you even more. He's letting you into his personal rooms?
Why?
"Come here." He says, and your legs move without any of your control. Like a puppet on a string you're pulled towards him, unable to really go against any orders told to you, like you're mind controlled. The moment you stand in front of him, he reaches out his hand- and you're torn by the possible choice given to you. But if he reaches out, you're supposed to take the hand, right?
Instead, you put your own in his, not making a decision at all.
Control is a scary thing. You don't want it.
He looks at your wrist as he turns your hand over, thumb running over the signature branding you have on your skin, burned in scar never fading. It's when you can spot something on the hand that holds yours, between all the ink and color he's placed underneath the skin. A scar, achingly similar to your own.
Your eyes find his- but he's not looking at you.
So he's from the same place as you once were. Is that why he smells so familiar? Did you forget him? Or did you never know him at all, and simply caught traces of him during your time at the Golden House?
Who is he?
"From now on, you're mine." He tells you, and you soak up that info like a sponge. "You belong here, and nowhere else." He says, and you nod to make sure he knows that you understand. There's a small moment where he simply looks at you, before he nods as well, and lets go of your hand. "Can you write?" He asks, and you eagerly nod, finally expecting a task from him. You'll be useful, you'll have something to do- you won't just have to stand around and wait for something that never happens. "Good. That gives me at least some way you can talk to me, I guess." He mumbles to himself as he gets up and walks past you, to dig around in a small drawer of a desk close by. "I want you to talk. If not with your voice-" He offers a small, palm sized notebook to you, a pen clipped to it's side. "-then with this."
You take the booklet with a nod, opening it to write something down. He expects a thank you- but that's not what he gets.
'What is my purpose here?' you've written, and he sighs to himself.
"Heal." He says, making you look at him confused. You're already starting to show a lot more emotions he notices, and it calms him down quite a bit, because that means that even though you may have forgotten him, you're at least slowly adapting to the overall environment you're now in. You move to write something again, before you hold out the booklet.
'There has to be a job for me.' you write, and he tilts his head at you, arms crossed, veins clear under his forearms, exposed since he'd rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.
"And I just told you what it is." He responds, face expressionless, but eyes glimmering with something almost mischievous. "Your job is to heal, adjust, and adapt to the way I run things." He tells you. "But if you want a.. job, I can try and arrange something for you." He huffs, dissatisfied, but still caving in.
You show him the opened page again, something added to the bottom.
'Thank you' is written there.
He just nods, and knocks on his door to give Namjoon the sign to take you to your room so you can sleep- and leave him by himself for a moment, as he watches the calm night-sky from his window, world steadily moving on while he doesn't know what's to come for him.
Even if Seokjin is right, there is no guarantee that this whole thing won't just backfire horribly. And there's still the looming threat of someone amongst his people who's currently the biggest danger to the house of cards Jungkook had barely built up over the years until now. If that person just so much as pushes one more card, it might all come falling down-
and this time, he'll take you with him.
If he dies, you can't survive.
Because if you do, you'll probably face a fate he doesn't even want to imagine.
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nightdivinity · 3 months
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Drink Responsibly: Chapter 2
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ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader
Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!
Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader
Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, we die like men, reverse harem. This is getting sexual. I’m sorry.
Writer's Note: I live, I die, I live again. I’m trying to keep an even pace when publishing, I promise. It’s just that finals week knocked me on my ass. I’ve basically got to prepare week 9 and 10 before it. Graduation is also right around the corner. Besides school and work though, this has also been my only focus. Also, sorry to everyone who reached out. I promise I’m not ignoring the kind messages and everything. I just keep forgetting. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to do better. Also got to write a bio and start publishing the other things I’ve been cooking up. This series is still a top priority though. I’m going to be more consistent from here on out.
When you finally make it back to the manor after a day of detours and horrible karaoke that makes your insides warm and fuzzy, Duke doesn’t let you open your own door. All the being nice was making you itch, and you kind of were missing being a strong independent person. It’s also not that you didn’t give it the good old college try, desperately jiggling the handle to open the door that he child locked as you look out the window in disbelief as he laughed his ass off outside your door.
To get back at him, the both of you ensued the pettiest game of unlocking and locking the doors. You, holding the door closed when he unlocked it and tried to pull it open, and scrambling to the driver’s seat to keep that door closed as well. Would it be bad if you admitted you liked the way his smug pretty face grew determined and slightly irritated? Never mind the dimples, the tick in his sharp jaw had your mind skipping a beat.
It was all fun and games until Alfred, who undoubtedly was watching you from the window, opened the other door just as you held yours shut and taunted Duke. “Can’t even open a wittle omega’s door?”
You’ll never forget the feral boyish smile he gave before sliding over the moving van’s hood and gently pushing Alfred out of the way.
His big frame wedged the door open letting wind into the cabin with enough pheromones to make your eyes water. In a panic you start trying to move away from him as far as possible. Cue, Alfred opening the other door your back was against, and you almost tumbling out.
“(L/N)? Just what on earth are you doing?”, Alfred questioned.
You stare up at the old Beta and your savior. His gloved hand on your back keeping your from tumbling out of the truck cab and busting your head on the gravel. Something all three men on the property were undoubtedly worried about as they watched you dangle too close to the ground. Not that you ever saw the curtain drawing closed from the third story. All you saw was help. Because surely Duke would knock it off with Alfred here.
“I’m poking the bear”, you tell him.
A large mitt, exactly like a bear’s, wraps around your ankle and tugs you out of Alfred’s hands and towards the open car door with a slightly pissed alpha waiting. Oh no. New employment be damned, you are not going out like this.
You scramble for purchase as your dragged across the leather seat. Your fingers digging into the crevice between the driver’s side and middle cushion for dear life. Desperately you try to shake Duke’s fingers off your one good ankle.
“(Y/N), get out of the car. You’re probably hurting yourself right now while doing this”, Duke warns.
There was an unspoken “Are you stupid?” that hung in the air. With Alfred here, the big, dimpled grin has disappeared, giving way to grim determination as Duke looked as though he was five seconds away from peeling the truck’s metal frame apart just to get at you better. You didn’t know what to do, it was better when you two were playing. The air was lighter, and you could breathe and believe he had best intentions at heart. Now you couldn’t keep playing, because he seems to be getting angrier every defiant second you spend clinging to cushions. Which made you want to burrow under the seats even more, away, and safe from the anger.
What you hadn’t noticed was how his anger started the second Alfred intervened. It’s not your fault, a lot has been happening and pissed-off Alphas take priority. The old man did though, and backed the adequate amount of steps away after ensuring you would not tumble out of the cab. If it wasn’t for the promise he made to Bruce to chaperone, and to you when he hired you, Alfred would have taken up the offer the others had given him. A nice vacation, the first he would have taken, just to give you and the rest space to figure each other out. Based on the messages from the family’s missing members, it would have been smart to leave Gotham. Or the continent.
“Don’t tell me what to do” you say.
“Get out of the truck”, Duke replies.
“No. Fuck off. I’m grown up, I can get out if I want.”
“I’m seriously running out of patience (y/n)”
“Good. Leave me alone Duke.”
“Terrible things are about to happen to you.”, Duke warns.
You squint at him and stick your tongue out at him. You know he’s just full of shit and would never do anything to actually hurt you. Nor would he allow you to be in any real danger. He’s got a trick up his sleeve and the muscles in your stretched leg were taut, waiting for release so you can roll and limp away to safety.
There was hardly anytime for you to plan your next step before Duke wrapped his hand around your ankle and starts untying your sneaker.
“Don’t”, you squeal.
He ignores you and gives you another bright smile full of sunshine and mischief. Dear God, he was going to kill you with that look on his face. Totally disarming and distracting as you barely register the shoe and sock getting tugged off.
“I mean it Duke! I give up! Look, see? I’m letting go!”, you beg.
You unclench your fingers and start waving your hands in his face. Trying like hell to sit up and defend yourself. Unfortunately, the hood on your hoodie was caught on the seatbelt latch in the cushion. Preventing you rolling farther away or sitting up and smushing his face away with your freed hands.
“I will never forgive you”, you solemnly vow.
“Yes, you will, look at your face, you’re smiling. You’ve already forgiven me.”
“They stink, I haven’t changed my socks in five days.”
“That’s another lie, I know for a fact that your laundry has been washed.”
“And that’s weird. We’re going to revisit that later though. Let my foot go. I also haven’t taken a shower yet; I ran a five K this morning.”
“In what? Your dreams? You know, I think we should go back to begging.”
You give an enraged shriek that devolves into panicked laugh as he starts torturing every available space on your foot. It was not an enjoyable experience. You were scrambling and flailing to get away but couldn’t since he seemed to have super strength. He also barely swatted your thick cast covered foot you tried to jam in his face. Tears start leaking out the corners of your eyes as you giggle and beg and plead for him to release you. Not that he listened to any of it. He seemed perfectly happy watching you writhe.
The merriment came to about as abrupt and end as it started as a sleek black muscle car growled into the driveway. Duke dropped your ankle and crawled into the truck cab with you. As defective an Omega as you were, you still picked up on the spike of adrenaline and what you thought was panic although it was smothered by anger. You scrunch your nose at the onslaught of pheromones that made you want to bump up and rub against him and soothe in any way you could. Because no. You’re not that kind of Omega.
“Duke?”, you ask.
He must have picked up on the nervous twitching from you. Or the tell-tale patter of your little heart trying to produce enough pheromones to get you out of this situation. Enough to tell the Alpha that’s laying on top of you, tantalizingly close, so close you could hear the clack that the wooden beads in his dreads made as he pressed flush against you. I’m in danger, help me. Is what should have been leaking out of every pore. Yet, you were broken.
“Shh, don’t let him see you.”, Duke says.
That didn’t help the matter. Especially when Duke used his freakishly long limbs to pull both sets of doors closed as quietly as possible. What was happening? Was someone trying to attack Bruce Wayne, billionaire-philanthropist and notorious Alpha who also seems to be in close contact with the most frightening infected Alpha in the country. Merely the thought of the shadow you often saw cast on buildings as dominance battles were fought all over in the different Gotham territories was enough to make you shake. You never saw Batman. No one whoever truly interacts with him lives to tell the tales. So just what is Bruce Wayne that he seems to be in an alliance with such a monster?
“Bruce! Get out here you chicken-shit piss-poor excuse of a sire”, a booming voice shout outside.
A seismic level shockwave rocked through you, and you couldn’t suppress the litany of whines that escaped as you dug your claws into duke’s yellow and black muscle shirt. It was embarrassing, you felt like a pup again.
In all your years you had never come anywhere close to that amount of dominance that was coming out in waves that even rattled the windows. Whoever this was, he was bad news. Even Duke knew it.
Duke’s eyes were flashing gold in the sudden darkness of the cab. You were once again struck by the oddity, but this world is full of strange things. To be fair, you were mostly preoccupied with other things, and you had a feeling that if you started digging into what was going on at the place you were hired then you would truly fall down the rabbit hole.
“Stop moving”, Duke whispers.
His hand wraps around one of your wrists that you had thrown up against his chest. Just for a little breathing room, rather than being pressed face first in a scent gland that would have you dry humping everything in sight. Despite the abject terror at the situation unfolding outside.
“Where do you get off siccing Dick on me in the middle of a meeting?”, the man demands.
You didn’t hear the heavy manor door creaking open. So you had no idea just who this man was talking to. During the struggle with Duke earlier and the tickle fight, you didn’t see Alfred. You doubt the man stuck around during the shenanigans. Which begs the question. Just who was he talking to?
“Really? The silent treatment. You really are too scared to face me huh?”, the unknown man says.
Oh no. That sounded right outside your moving truck. No, nonononononono. You could feel the anger coming off him as it made your teeth chatter.
Your worst fear came true as the driver’s side door, above your head, was ripped open. No. It was ripped off the truck cab in a screech of metal that had you cringing and trying to burrow farther into Duke away from it. You were still stuck on the damn seatbelt thing that was jammed into the back of your neck. All you could do was look up and try not to burst into tears.
Because the man who just opened your door was death. You were teetering between pissing yourself from fear, and trying to control the inappropriate lust that was starting to ride you hard. Because damn. That voice, that dominance, paired with that attitude and face. My God, it’s like he was made perfectly for you. Or any Omega really. A fact that was cemented when the stern bluish-grey eyes that stare down at you flash a crimson red. Sploosh. You seriously needed to get your head checked.
“(Y/N)?”, mystery man says.
“How do you know my name?”
“Bruce told us he got you. Shit. I thought he was just pulling his usual shit”, he swears.
You were about to question who he was and what all was going on, but Duke beat you to it.
“(Y/N) this is Jason. I’m sorry, I didn’t think he would ever come back home. Speaking of what are you doing here Jason?”, Duke says.
Jason straightens, his eyes flashing another dangerous candy apple red color that brought another bout of hot oozing warmth where it definitely didn’t need to be. Not that you needed to worry about it. Like you said, you were broken. Although you couldn’t help but wonder if being by lethal amounts of Alpha fueled testosterone would kick your damaged hardware into gear. Food for thought at a later time.
“I have just as much of a right to be here, if you checked your phone you would know what was going on. Bruce… interfered with a business interaction of mine when I refused to come back to the Manor.”
“So you decided to just go ahead and give him what he wants, really Jay?”
“No. I’m going to kill him. First though, get off of her.”
The callous way he mentioned killing your employer was chilling you to the bone. You bet he could do it to. From the heavily muscled frame that was subtly flexing, his old brown leather jacket creaking as it strained. He took to cracking his knuckles as he stared down at you both. Too make matters worse, there was a small scar that twisted the left side of his face in a permanent smirk as it ran up from the corner of his slips, across his high cheekbones, and disappeared above his ear and into that thick black hair. Hair that contained a curious white streak that made you want to take a closer look. Not that you would. You were smart. Everything about this man shouted danger.
While Duke was massive in his own right, Jason looked as though he could rip linebackers in half for funsies. You believe that those thick corded thighs that your eyes had zeroed in on, the ones that his frayed jeans were struggling to contain, those are rugby thighs. Once again, it’s not your fault, you were born to be this pervy to those of the Alpha secondary gender category. Just like Deltas were made for Betas. This is all evolution's fault that you wanted to climb a psycho killer like a tree and purr. Ooooh, maybe you could get Duke to wear a firema- nope. Annnnnd you’re done. You seriously need to focus if you’re going to somehow finesse your way out of this situation.
“What are you going to do? Make me?” Duke says.
You almost think he’s teasing Jason, then you hear the bite of a challenge to an invading Alpha. Dear God, it’s almost like you’re a kid on the playground again. This was so not fun nor was it sexy. Especially with you sitting so close to the crossfire.
“I said, get off.”, Jason start growling.
Oh good, now we’re slowly becoming dogs. This is great. Totally not borderline psychotic in any way.
“You didn’t want to come back, so you don’t get to have her. Back off Jay.”, Duke warns.
“No one here gets to judge me; you know the reason why the family is so broken is sitting up there. Plotting. If I had known- well- doesn’t matter. Get off before I rip you to pieces. I might till do it, send a fun little message to our psycho father by spreading his precious new pet’s blood all over the front steps.”
“Isn’t that what Dick said to you when you met?”
“Say his name again and I will make good on my promise.”
“Can I just say one thing?”, you ask.
The tension was getting so thick you could cut it with a cheap plastic spork. Honestly, you suspect they could’ve just kept going all night if they had to with the witty one-liners. You were getting tired though, and all this negativity was not good for your heart.
“Hon, not right now, I’m winning.”, Duke tries to shush you.
First of all, how dare he shush you. You had just as much of a right to talk as they did. Duke is different from most Alpha’s you’ve met. The silent prejudice was still hanging in that back of your mind though. Omegas are useless without Alphas. So be a good little one and sit there and be pretty. Don’t ever think of talking. You know he’s not like all the other assholes you’ve encountered. What he just said though started ringing those little alarms that told you he might be though.
“No, you’re not.”, you pause and notice the slight smirk across Jason’s scarred face, “Neither of you are. Can I please get up and get my boxes in while you two have your pissing match?”
Jason lets out a surprised bark, and you give him brownie points for keeping his mouth shut besides that.
“I’ll let you up, once he goes inside.”, Duke tells you.
“No. I want to get up now.”, you say.
Duke’s next response gets cut off as you watch Jason reach over you and grab Duke’s dreads. There was a slight struggle, but the comforting weight of Duke’s body between your thighs is gone within seconds. You almost miss it. You almost feel bad when you finally wrench your hoodie free and look out the truck door and see Duke on the ground with Jason’s hand around his throat. It was ok. You can tell no real weight was being put behind it. It was just one Alpha gently reminding a younger one to submit. You’ve seen this shit all the time.
You also weren’t going to lie; the dominance was definitely starting to rev your engines.
“Please don’t kill him, I need his help with the boxes and my wheelchair”, you call out.
Jason turns to look at you, the red in his eyes damning as he stares into you. Oooh. You can have a lot of fun with that. Maybe you can ask him to pretend to be your sleep paralysis demon that has his wicked way with yo- nope. No roleplaying. No playing with these Alphas in any sexual manner. You need money and a place to stay, and while sex is nice, everyone always moves on to more compelling Omegas that aren’t broken. Besides, you’re pretty sure these Alphas don’t know their strength. Nope, you’re good without all the heartbreak and hospital visits if you go down that route.
“Boxes?”, Jay asks.
“Yeah, I’m moving in, didn’t anyone tell you?”, you ask him.
“No. They just told me- nothing. I’ll help, you don’t need shit-for-brains”, Jay says.
He gets up, slightly pushing Duke’s face to the side and into the muddy wet gravel. You can’t help but wince and give Duke a sympathetic look. Not that he was paying you any mind. His lovely brown eyes were now a liquid gold that screamed revenge. You just pray that he can hold off long enough to get your wheelchair from the back.
“What- what happened to her?”, Jay asks.
“Motherfu- get my chair”, you boss.
“She got chewed on at one of Cobblepot’s clubs”, Duke tells him.
“Shit, none of the others know huh.”, Jason sighs.
He runs his hands through his hair, and you’re stuck looking at it again. It looked fluffy and silky. Of course, it would put you in a trance, the same as the wood beads in Duke’s dreads. You might actually have a thing for hair now that you thought about it.
“No, we’ll have a war when they do.”, Duke replies cheerfully.
“Why?”, you ask. You were genuinely confused as they kept talking circles around you.
“Don’t worry about it Hon. Let’s get you inside”, Duke groans as he gets up from the dirt.
Jason reaches in and lightly grabs your good wrist as he pulls you out. You willingly let him, marveling at that the body made from the gods. Would it be bad if you reached around and gently pinched his ass? It’s just curiosity. So much muscle, how much fat?
Duke looks slightly peeved when he grabs the chair from the back and notices you in Jason’s arms. You couldn’t help but give him a slight smug wave from the safety of King Kong’s arms.
“I like the bell, maybe we should find some streamers for the back too. There’s no way she’ll get lost.”
And just like that, you lost it as Giant 1 and 2 dissolved in a fit of giggles. I’m going to kill them. Hopefully before your hormones and pheromones killed you first. Because damn it, you did seize the opportunity to smack the ass of the jack ass.
That ass is not only iconic and slightly hard, but it jiggled a little too. This is going to be so much fun living here.
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pyreo · 1 month
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I'm comparing the Dungeon Meshi manga to episodes I just watched and now I gotta capital-p Post about this one episode (spoilers past Episode 12)
So this part is an emotional side-step from the central throughline so far - Laios and Marcille got Falin back successfully and reunited, and they got that payoff from the very beginning where they thought it would be impossible. But Chilchuck is very much a part of these layers of development, so after that dragon finally dies, we stop for a second - Laios and Marcille are recovering, Falin has disappeared again - how does Chilchuck feel at that point?
It's the perfect stage to insert that because he didn't really share in that sense of victory in the same way as Laios and Marcille recovering someone extremely close to them. And that's on purpose because he keeps everyone at arms' length. As soon as that arc hits its end and Falin is recovered, there's at last space to ask - why is Chilchuck even here.
He's asking himself that through the chapter. Now that they've lost the person they intended to save, he regrets agreeing to come.
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And starts shouldering responsibility for everything ending up this way. We saw that when he got stuck in the mimic room before - he refuses to let himself ask for help, or he'll try to take burdens alone to lessen relying on others. The original Touden Party was six people, and when Laios insisted on going back underground they were two, and he knew they would die, and figured maybe, maybe if they were one more, with his skillset, maybe they'd have a chance. He couldn't let them walk back down just to die.
And he's going back to that mindset - their lives are on me. He thinks he could have prevented this if he'd chosen differently. Essentially, the walk alongside the orc woman is him working through a guilt spiral.
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He sees a second chance to correct that mistake of joining the party. He wants them out now, before they die. The orc asks him how they defeated a dragon and, in explaining it, he reminds himself of all the risky, ridiculous things they had to do, and he isn't satisfied with just getting lucky. Laios got his foot bitten off, on purpose! This proves to him that if they go any further they will not survive. And he hints at this dissatisfaction a couple chapters later, wishing his teammates prioritised things other than winning at all costs...
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Like, obviously. The point of this chapter is Chilchuck pretending to be a self-serving coward. To the point where others react with disdain, even disgust, towards him because he wants to lie to Marcille and Laios to ensure they turn back. He's desperate to get out of a hopeless situation by any means necessary, and will destroy his standing in the group in a blink if it means nobody else dies. He has to go on a stupid mental health walk for his stupid mental health and talk through his little bout of panic and doubt.
'You called me a coward so don't be surprised when I act accordingly'
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He needs someone very blunt to tell him 'dude you're not being a coward for wanting your friends to get out of hell alive. you're a coward for making excuses instead of honestly telling them your concern is genuine' and he BSODs about it. He needs to rant and externalise that frustration over their recklessness at a third party. He needs to scream that they are idiots because he's the only one for which the ends don't justify the means and he can't keep losing his mind over everyone's safety. Down to a point, the orc praises their ability to survive the explosion from the dragon's fuel sac, and it only justifies Chilchuck - Falin didn't even know she could cast the spell that stopped them all being killed, and they cannot continue getting lucky like this.
Anyway. The reason I stopped to think about it was this part-
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Where he recovers Laios's monster-infused sword. The thing that made their situation in the dragon fight go from bad to worse, that he swore at Laios for in every language he knew. The most angry we'd seen him. And now he calmly picks it up and praises it for being the only one of them smart enough to make a run for it.
He's projecting, obviously. He's internalising the label of 'coward' and changing himself to fit it. And, look at him, he's so tired of this. It's evidence of his sheer exhaustion that his anger immediately disappears and he actually gives it a compliment. Him and Laios's sword, the group cowards, the only one who agrees with him.
Then, because he had a walk before getting into the argument, he's organised his feelings and drops all the walls and pretense and just says it.
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There's a rule of writing where you contrast your high energy sequences with parts that are slow and mundane, to make the difference more apparent. I think that's why I like this bit so much. The fight against the dragon is long, and the emotional stakes are enormous. Right after that we have the bath scene with Falin and Marcille, and Laios ruffling Falin's hair, and this part that pauses everything to explore the stuff that Chilchuck finally needs to say. And it's wrapped in this neat little solemn journey to pick up their supplies and remember how it felt when all five of them had a meal around a real dinner table at last.
And because he doesn't resort to individualistic trickery, because he explains his point as a duty of care rather than pitting himself against the others, he gets backed up. Senshi agrees that they don't have the supplies to continue, and the orc lady mentions her brethren will return later and can give them support, all of which together breaks down Laios's singleminded devotion to his cause.
Personally I think the manga's better suited to comic timing, but in the anime you can get fleshed out little moments, like Laios's face journey as he realises the other three are making a good case for their survival.
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This was my favourite part so far, and I like how both Chilchuck-centric episodes have separated him from the others. Because he won't reveal anything he's thinking otherwise. lmao
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sixosix · 6 months
Text
YOU GOTTA LEAVE BEFORE YOU GET LEFT | LYNEY
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warnings profanity, angsty fighting (violence but it’s not descriptive), 3.7k words!
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The House of the Hearth is quiet around this hour, save for the soft snores coming from the rooms, or the clink-clink-clink of your polearm when hitting your arms. Lynette has already crashed somewhere, but Lyney can’t sleep a wink. At least, if you asked him what he’s doing in the training room alone watching you, that’s what he would say.
Thankfully, you haven’t asked; didn’t even acknowledge when he slipped into the room.
Lyney hasn’t been able to stop thinking about a few nights ago when he saw a glimpse of something real from you. Your smile and his newfound determination to defeat you to see more of it.
Sweat rolls off your temple, your breath visible in a silhouette of a misty cloud. You strike the air as if it’s insulted you greatly. With one final swing, you pause, turning to look at him.
Lyney can tell something is wrong. Your eyes are heavier; your movements are more sluggish than usual. This is the first time he’s seen you in a few days, with him going out for missions and coming back to hear that you’ve been cooped up in the training room day and night, frustration rolling off of you in waves.
Lyney smiles instead. “Would you like to spar?”
Your gaze is intense. Lyney could see a flame sparking in them when he asked you. But it fades when you ask, “Lyney, ‘Father’ has just returned yesterday, right? Has she talked to you at all?”
Lyney blinks. “Oh, um. No, I haven't really seen ‘Father’.”
Your shoulders loosen. “Alright.”
Then, you stand before him—all Lyney needs as an answer.
He’s gotten better with a bow, his only form of weapon during missions when they get a little more dangerous than prying information. But he only gets to feel the thrill of it when he’s facing you, who’s always one step ahead.
He bows. “It is an honor.”
Something of a smile flickers on your face when he looks back up. “You always say that whenever we do this.”
Lyney beams, pleased to hear you speak to him beyond anything related to training. “It’s no lie.”
“Then,” you twirl your polearm around in a hypnotizing circle, and Lyney feels a near-maniacal grin creep up his face, “overcome me.”
Lyney takes the first shot, no longer surprised when you barely flinch as you swerve. You move as swiftly as his arrows. He fires another shot, then another, and another at a rapid pace. As expected, you dodge and deflect all of them with ease. Even when not at your full best, you can easily conquer everyone.
But Lyney’s been watching closely. His eyes follow every shift, catching each minuscule movement of how you favor one side more than the other or how your eyes are fixed on his weapon and nothing else.
You start drawing closer, your steps so fluid that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it. Lyney conceals a smile.
Your eyes widen when Lyney disappears into a twirl of cards, fading out of view, disappearing into nothingness, just like that.
You pant, looking around warily, “How did you—” only for your breath to hitch when Lyney materializes right behind you, kicking your weapon off your staggered grip and aiming his arrow right at your head.
His eyes are narrowed as if facing a real enemy—as if preparing to actually shoot with one wrong move. But that’s not right, because how could Lyney ever bring himself to hurt you when you smile at him like that?
“That was…new,” you say, breathing heavily. Your exhaustion is getting to you now.
Lyney’s lungs are doing just as bad. “Thank you,” he manages to say, sensing a compliment when he hears one. “It’s only right for a magician to have tricks up his sleeves, right?”
He doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s taken advantage of your state. Had you not been visibly tired, you never would’ve fallen for his trick. It’s victory, but he doesn’t feel as if he’s really won.
Now that you admit defeat, Lyney says, “Let’s take a break.”
To his delight, you murmur a yes. Now that’s victory.
The orphanage has become used to the sight of the magician twins tailing after you, with Lyney grinning smugly and Lynette close behind because, really, her brother was just tagging along. And some other times, they’ve become used to the sight of Lynette curled up on the couch with Freminet resting his head on her lap while you yell at Lyney to piss off, and he doesn’t piss off.
You’ve even come to admit them as friends. Mostly Lynette, though. Lyney’s just there because they’re twins.
Lyney pouts. “I mean, we’re basically friends now, right?”
You send him a strange look. “What are you talking about? No, we’re not.”
“Whaaat?”
You push his face away when he’s decided to come up all over your personal space. “I like your sister better.”
“Lynette and I are twins!” he whines.
“Completely different people, still.”
Lynette does a mischievous half-smile, blinking slowly. “Don’t tease him too much,” she said. “He’ll cry when it comes to you.”
Lyney splutters. “Lynette!”
Thankfully, the Archons are on his side. You don’t look too deeply into Lynette’s words, simply laughing and returning back to your food, chatting comfortably with his sister and Freminet. Despite all the bickering, Lyney feels warm inside.
“Lyney,” you say, catching his gaze. “Do you want to spar later?”
Lyney’s heart soars. “Yes, of course.”
In the comfort of their own room, Lynette strikes.
“Y/N is really nice,” Lynette says when Lyney is practicing tricks with his hat. “You think so, too, right?”
Lyney doesn’t know where this is going. He fumbles with the rose. “Mhm. Yeah.”
Tonight is particularly cold; the old-fashioned fireplace is barely doing anything. Lyney wants to check on the training room—it’s always much warmer there.
Lynette shifts beside him, and Lyney can feel the weight of her infinitely keen stare. “And you also think that you should tell me who you’re practicing those flowers for, right?”
“I—what—” Lyney’s face goes hot. “It’s for my tricks, Lynette! What are you trying to imply?”
His sister sniffs, as if Lyney is just an insignificant little thing. “I don’t know what you and Y/N have been doing lately, but I'm happy to see you happy.”
Lynette smiles at him. “I haven’t seen you like this for so long. I’ll do my best to not let anything take this away from you.”
Speechless, Lyney could only utter: “Lynette…”
In all honesty, Lyney doesn’t know what changed—doesn’t know how it shifted into something else he can’t quite put a finger on. Maybe it’s the fact that he and his sister have a home now, despite the fact that it’s an intelligence source for the Harbingers. Or maybe it’s…something deeper than that, something to do with you.
“It’s really nothing,” Lyney says softly. “You don’t have to do anything, okay? I promise you.”
Lynette nods, trusting her brother easily. “Okay. I just don’t want you to lose this.”
Ha, as if he could even bring himself to do that.
“Hey, is Lyney in this room?” someone yells, rapping on the door frantically. “Father’s looking for Lyney. Is Lynette here?”
“What…?” Lyney mumbles, turning to the window and belatedly noticing sunlight peeking through from the sides of the curtains. “Oh no. I didn’t get any sleep.”
“And ‘Father’ is looking for you,” Lynette says, amused. “Go, Lyney. Shoo.”
Lyney scurries off and nods politely at the person who had summoned him. He pads over to the dining table, where ‘Father’ is always waiting, desserts laid before her.
“Lyney,” she greets. Lyney felt the hair rise on the back of his neck, but also warmth spread throughout his chest, happy to see the person who had changed his and his sister’s life. “Come. Would you like a plate?”
Eating something sugary while he lacks sleep is not the brightest idea. “No, thank you, ‘Father’.”
“Alright,” she says lightly, taking a bite and indulging in her cake for a long pause. “You’ve been training hard, haven’t you?”
“Yes, ‘Father’.” He sits somewhere that’s a chair away from her, too nervous to sit close and too afraid to sit too far. He still doesn’t know what ‘Father’ thinks of him, or what to think of ‘Father’.
“And you’ve gotten stronger since receiving your Vision.” It sounds like a question, but that’s not right. ‘Father’ always knows what’s happening in the House of the Hearth.
“…Yes,” Lyney says slowly, unsure where this is heading.
Arlecchino leans back, pleased. “Hm. Good.”
Lyney isn’t quite sure what’s happening, but she asks about how he and his sister are doing, and they get involved in an almost-something-of-a casual conversation. Lyney’s nerves are on high alert the entire time, as if suspecting that this is a test. But after that, ‘Father’ dismisses him before Lyney can start being suspicious.
He doesn’t think too much of it. He leaves the room and feels as if he could melt on the floor from exhaustion.
Someone sees him and claps him on the back, startling him enough to wake him up. She glances at the door he just came out of and hums lowly. “Did ‘Father’ call for you?”
“Yes.”
“Ha,” she snorts. “Guess that’ll happen a lot when you're the next successor, huh? Lucky you.”
“Yeah,” Lyney agrees, though he doesn’t really know what it means. He doesn’t really care because at least ‘Father’ still wants to keep them around.
Most importantly of all, in this orphanage, Lyney has been having the time of his life. His sparring with you has led him to a tentative friendship of sorts. He can confidently say he knows you as well as he knows Lynette and Freminet. He’s been living in bliss, always pleased to have a home and a family to come back to, no matter how gruesome the mission they’re sent to.
He and Lynette have been seeing the House off with missions successfully fulfilled, and ‘Father’ has acknowledged their loyalty. Their worth. Whispers about successors get louder. Lyney pays them no mind—this is only them acknowledging his worth.
Days would pass. Lyney would perform tricks for his fellow orphans. Lynette would tell him that she’d rather not be in the spotlight. Days would pass. You would keep on overworking yourself, and Lyney would try to pull you away from it.
“Y/N,” Lyney announces his presence with just your name, standing by the doorway.
You don’t flinch nor even waver from your moves, nearly dancing with how swiftly you move across the grassy field. It’s easier to talk over the slash over your weapon this time, at least, with the sounds spreading across the evening air. Lyney can shout and he doesn’t have to fear waking up anyone.
He has to wake you up first, though.
“Y/N,” he tries again, his fingertips beginning to burn underneath the steaming plate. Despite his connection with fire, his skin is beginning to feel irritated—or perhaps it’s proof of how long he’s been carrying your dinner. “Your food’s gonna get cold.”
“Leave it there,” you finally answer, slowing to a halt. Your back is facing him, posture perfect, and Lyney’s star-struck even in moments like this.
“And you’re going to eat it?”
“I will.”
That’s what you said last time, and Lyney came back to a full plate, untouched even by ants. Lyney decides to stay, content with watching over you until you tire and give in. He’s been hearing that you’re relentless, not even sparing a single glance to anyone.
“Why have you been practicing so hard recently? Is ‘Father’ punishing you? Did you sneak out again?”
You deign to face him with a fierceness that could match the fire of his Vision. “As if ‘Father’ has even looked at me.”
Lyney blinks slowly. “...What?”
Then—it was that moment that Lyney realized this was more serious than he realized—you school your expression into something blank. He was asking the wrong questions. He feels like there’s an invisible wall between the two of you, even when he’s already far away.
“You all have something I don’t,” you say, lowering your weapon. “Tell me, Lyney, if I start slacking off, will she even look at me the way she does to you?”
“What are you talking about?”
Your expression grows colder. “You wouldn’t understand. Who am I kidding? Just leave the food; I’ll eat it.”
“How do I know that?” he asks weakly.
“Take the hint, Lyney. I want to be alone right now.”
Days would pass. Lyney gets busier—his life gets more hectic. He starts performing on stages, small ones, but stages with props galore nonetheless. Lynette starts to feel more confident joining him, but she still has to work on her expressions. Days would pass. Lyney sees you less often. Your thread is snapping.
He enters the training room, where it’s been eerily silent. Not even Freminet nor Lynette tried to train today as if sensing danger from inside. But all he sees inside is you, staring silently at the wall, heaving.
Lyney sees your state and winces, your shoulder hiked to your ears and your expression unpleasant. “Y/N,” he calls out softly, “Are you okay?”
You’re really not, and it’s obvious, but how else does Lyney approach this?
You take a too-long moment to respond, eyes distant. “I’m…fine.”
Lyney hesitates, wildly looking around the room for something to distract you with. “Do you want to spar?”
“No.”
He should’ve known the moment he noticed you were acting strange: there’s something bothering you enough to leave you trapped in the training room. He tries to think hard about it, looking back at the first moment you were acting off. He comes up with nothing.
“Lyney,” you say, “you should leave.”
“No,” he says firmly. “I’m not leaving if you’re going to keep this up.”
“Lyney,” you say, facing him fully with a scowl. “That was not a question. Leave.”
“Y/N, I…” Lyney thinks and thinks. What has been happening recently? He’s been sent off for missions far too often that he hasn’t been able to notice this sooner. How long has this been happening? Why is this happening?
If anything, you’re far too prideful to show your weakness. To break down like this so suddenly… How will ‘Father’ react to this? Surely, she would put a stop to it if you were always next to her. But he hasn’t seen you next to ‘Father’ in so long. In fact, he’s…
Lyney stares cautiously. “Are their words bothering you?”
“They’re always talking.” That’s not a yes, but Lyney feels like he should take it as one. “Lately, they’ve been talking much louder than before.”
“That’s it, isn’t it? It’s about ‘Father’’s successor?”
Your mouth curls up in a snarl. “Don’t rub it in my face. You, of all people, shouldn’t ask that to me.”
Lyney’s heart sinks. So it was him who was causing this. “Whatever you’re hearing isn’t true.”
“What? Don’t make me out to be so stupid. You spar with me to gauge my weaknesses. You want to become the next successor.”
“I don’t want to become the next anything,” he pleads, instinctively taking a step back when you inch closer.
“That’s what it is, right? You see me as a challenge? So that’s what you meant?” Something is terribly wrong. You’re looking in his direction, but he doesn’t feel the weight of your gaze—like you’re only seeing through him.
Lyney frowns. He’s being cornered. “No, what—”
“I changed my mind,” you say, your shoulders tensing and the grip on your weapon tightening until your knuckles turn white. “You don’t want to leave? Fight me. Now. Prove that you’re worth more than me.”
“Y/N,” Lyney says lowly. “You’re not thinking straight right now. I don’t want to—”
You strike at his side. Lyney only manages to block it because of his experience with close combat from you, but this one is different. His eyes widen. That one hurt bad, leaving a buzzing ache on his skin. That’ll leave a bruise that won’t leave for weeks.
“Fight me,” you whisper, desperate, crazed. “Fight me.”
You demand it, but you don’t give Lyney a chance to react, attacking once again. Lyney blocks it off with his body and bites down a whimper of pain at the impact; at what sounded like the crack of bones.
“Y/N, stop—”
“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl. “Bring out your weapon. Fight me. You’re the next successor, aren’t you?”
“Y/N,” Lyney says, trying to get a hold of your wrists. “Y/N, you’re crying.”
“I’m—” You inhale sharply, a sob wracking through your shoulders. “Shut up. Stop talking. You don’t know what’s happening. Fight me—just fight me. Why aren’t you fighting back?”
Lyney hates that you’re right—he doesn’t know what’s happening. He feels entirely useless. The person he looks up to, who has made him the better version of himself, and made him want to excel in everything he does for praise, is losing her mind right in front of him—he can’t even give you what you want.
“Why aren’t you fighting back? Isn’t this what you wanted?!”
“I didn’t want this!” Lyney shouts, moving swiftly to dodge the swing of your polearm. It misses him by a hair's breadth. Your fervid cries are making him lose composure. He doesn’t know what to do—doesn’t know how to make you stop.
“Pathetic,” you say, knocking him down. “This is who they’re calling the next successor? Beaten by someone who doesn’t have a Vision.”
Visions. Lyney learned that oftentimes, they dictate the fate and the potential of the orphans here. Those with Visions are sent off on more dangerous missions, drastically stretching their capabilities. And it’s true—Lyney wasn’t allowed to join Lynette on missions when she was the first to get one out of the two of them.
“You are still weak.”
“Shut up,” Lyney says, forcing bile down his throat. He doesn’t want to believe it. He wants to convince himself that you don’t mean that, but that means nothing if he thinks it, too. “Visions mean nothing.”
“To you, they don’t!”
Then, to Lyney’s horror, you swerve your entire body and strike to attack him with your everything. The bruises all over his skin sting, and his brain chants danger, danger. He panics, forcing a wave of fire to crash over and protect himself, but blue washes over his vision for a split second, and then he’s face to face with a tsunami of ice.
Ice.
Lyney blinks once, then looks down at his arm and realizes it’s been frozen over. It’s covered in ice, extinguishing the fire that’s enveloped his skin.
“What…?” he says dumbly, more confused than anything.
He turns back to you and sees you shaking uncontrollably, clutching a Cryo Vision to your chest. You’re looking at it as if it’ll bite you.
“No, no…” You look back at Lyney, eyes round. “Lyney—”
His eyes widened. “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I attacked you—you were just defending yourself—”
“Don’t console me, you idiot! I don’t know how to—get it off—” You cry out, roughly wiping away tears that are trickling down. The frost is creeping up on your face, turning your lips to blue. “Get away from me…!”
The numbness is getting to his arm, and he’ll probably get hypothermia if he keeps on ignoring it, but he can’t bring himself to do anything when you’re wailing and terrified of your own self.
Lyney’s hands hover around you, unsure if he should touch you and risk it. “It’s okay, I promise, just—just breathe—”
You slap his hand away, crumbling even more at the sight of his frozen arm.
“Y/N,” he breathes.
Then, your face is carefully blank, shutting him off—worse than any wall of ice. Then, you snatch your polearm from the ground and scramble away. Lyney rushes to follow after, but you’ve flicked your hand, and the door is blocked off by a thick wall of ice. Great. Just great.
Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.
“Fuck!” Lyney hisses, throwing his bow to the ground, causing it to crack and splinter against the cold tiles.
“Calm down,” he says to himself, thawing his arm with his Pyro. The sudden change in temperature hurts, but that doesn’t compare to what he’s feeling right now. “Y/N will be back. Calm down. Patience.”
It’s pouring uncontrollably outside. You shiver, shaking with each desperate step you take to get far, far away from the orphanage—from Lyney. The rain has melted the ice that’s crawling all over your face and fingers, but you can still feel it humming under your skin as if one wrong move and you’d kill something.
How ironic. Goading Lyney into using his Vision led to you getting yours. What a fucking joke.
You navigate through the crowd, hiding your Vision and speeding through. The gods have perceived you and blessed you because you’re worthy. Why only now? Why is it that it’s only when you’ve accepted you’re not worthy compared to Lyney?
You are still weak. You said it aloud, but you know more than anyone that it was not meant for Lyney.
A door swing opens, and you nearly slam onto it, if not for you skidding to a halt a second off.
The woman with brown locks and bright eyes who opened the door blinked curiously. “Hey, kid. What are you doing out here in this thunderstorm?”
You must look like a sight. Bruised and freezing, as flighty as a frightened animal. “I—U-Uhm…”
You’re given no script to follow this time. What should you say? What do you do?
You can feel all your limbs trembling. No—you can barely feel at all. “I’m fine. Miss. I was just… playing. I mean, running back home.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, taking it upon herself to ruin her dry dress and usher you inside. “Don’t worry. Come. Seek shelter here while waiting for it to die down.”
“I’m fine,” you try to say, but the inviting warmth inside has your next words dying. “You don’t have to do this, miss… I’m…”
Dangerous. Nearly killed the person that warmed his way through your heart. You frightened him. You frighten yourself.
“None of that.” She pokes your forehead, making you blink up at her in bewilderment. “You think too hard for your age. Come, I have tea and spare clothes.”
You obediently sit. Perhaps tea will help. With how tight you’re clutching your Vision, its frost is beginning to crawl up your arms.
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i found it rly interesting lyney doesn’t wanna become the next successor, so i used it for plot! >:) ty for reading!!! if u reached all the way here im giving u a kiss on ur forehead
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