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icyminghao · 11 months ago

Text

pick me up!

pairing: jaehyun x gn!reader ft. sungho x gn!oc genre: fluff, crack, established relationship warning(s): mentions of food word count: 1.8k

summary: the three times jaehyun has (unsuccessfully) tried flirting with you through pick-up lines, and the one time you did it back to him.

ZERO.

“So, how did you win your partner over?”

Jaehyun looks up from his phone to see Sanghyeok raising his eyebrows at Sungho, a genuinely curious expression resting on his face. Jaehyun puts down his phone, ears peeled for his best friend’s reply.

Sungho puts his cup of coffee back onto the saucer, expressionless. “Pick-up lines.”

Sanghyeok suddenly lets out a series of coughs, seemingly having choked on his drink. Jaehyun pats his back repeatedly, sheepishly smiling at patrons from neighbouring tables at the café who had looked over due to the commotion.

“Pick-up lines? I didn’t think you’d be the type to use them to flirt,” Sanghyeok manages after calming down, “To be fair, I didn’t think you were capable of flirting at all.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s offensive,” Sungho clutches his chest dramatically, “Second of all, it works wonders. You can’t say anything, because I’m the one with a partner.”

“Really?” Sanghyeok huffs, turning to Jaehyun, “I don’t trust him. Does it really work?”

Jaehyun blinks.

“I’ve… never tried it before,” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, and Sungho’s jaw drops a little.

“Dude, you’re actually missing out,” Sungho slaps Jaehyun on the back, “You should try it sometime. I’m sure y/n’s reaction will be gold.”

Jaehyun hums, internally putting his thinking cap on. He’ll try it as soon as he goes home to you.

ONE.

“Honey, can you pass me your watch, please?” you poke your head through the gap between your bedroom door and the doorframe to see your boyfriend sitting on his side of the bed as he uses his phone.

“My watch?” Jaehyun looks up. He’s about to get up to find it, but he suddenly stops, gears turning in his head as you walk over to stand in front of him, “How about I give you my time instead?”

You chuckle, having not expected such a reply, and reach over to boop his nose. “That was a good one, honey, but I need your watch now. I told the watch repairer I’d be down at his shop like, ten minutes ago,”

Jaehyun smiles at the physical contact, but scrunches his nose in confusion immediately after, his mission of flirting with you through pick-up lines completely forgotten. “Why are you bringing my watch to the repair shop?”

“Honey, you told me you wanted it cleaned last week, didn’t you?” you ruffle his hair, endeared by his forgetfulness.

“Oh, right! I did,” Jaehyun’s eyes light up, recalling his request. He doesn’t know if you noticed, but he’s very sure there’s literal stars in his eyes. You always take care of him so well, and he’s nothing short of grateful. “Thank you, baby.”

You’ve already left for the repair shop quite a while ago when Jaehyun abruptly sits up from his lying-down position, sighing in disappointment.

You didn’t react to his pick-up line.

TWO.

“Honey, can you pass me the tomato sauce in front of you?” you nudge your boyfriend softly, eyes focused on the long grocery list in your hand.

You’d come to the grocery store with Jaehyun in tow, a result of your puppy-like boyfriend begging you to bring him along.

“It’ll be like a date!” he had whined, though you would have gladly taken him along without him trying his best to persuade you.

Upon hearing no reply for a beat too long, you look up from the list to see Jaehyun looking down at his phone, eyes focused and eyebrows furrowed.

“Honey?” you try, and sure enough, Jaehyun doesn’t respond, completely distracted by whatever is on his phone screen at the moment. You tilt your head in confusion. “Jaehyun…?”

“Yes!?” Jaehyun suddenly flinches, snapping back into reality. He looks between you and the grocery list in your hand and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Sungho texted me.”

You hum, gesturing for him to pass you the tomato sauce you’d requested a few moments ago. “Yeah? What are the both of you up to this time?”

“I was just telling him about the shirt I’m wearing,” your boyfriend replies, placing the tomato sauce into the cart he was pushing around.

You spare a glance at the shirt in question. It’s a simple white tee that you’re sure Jaehyun bought in bulk a long time ago, and you struggle to pinpoint anything out of the ordinary.

“What’s wrong with the shirt?” you ask, utterly confused.

Jaehyun’s back straightens, eyes practically sparkling

“It’s the material,” he whines, moving closer to you, “Feel it.”

You raise an eyebrow, but find yourself obliging anyway. You reach forward and pinch your boyfriend’s sleeve with two fingers, feeling the material.

“There’s… nothing wrong with it?” you reply, contemplating whether or not to add a thermometer to your cart to check if Jaehyun has a fever.

“There is nothing wrong with it,” Jaehyun grins, “It’s boyfriend material.”

You pause, processing Jaehyun’s words before realising that you really should have seen this coming with all the signs.

“Did Sungho teach you this?” you ruffle your boyfriend’s hair, turning to push the cart down the aisle.

Jaehyun catches up to you immediately, a small pout on his face as he reaches over to push the cart instead of letting you do it. “He said he won Bailey over with this one.”

You laugh at the mention of Sungho’s partner, nudging Jaehyun with your shoulder. “Really? I’ll have to ask Bailey about that the next time we meet.”

THREE.

“He told Jaehyun that? That’s definitely not how it went,” Bailey laughs as you recount your conversation with your boyfriend at the grocery store, “He cringed halfway through the line and refused to talk to me for a few hours because I teased him about it.”

You’re on a double date at the amusement park with Sungho and his partner, though with how you haven’t spoken a single word to Sungho and your boyfriend with the way the former pulled the latter aside as soon as all four of you met up and started whispering to each other like schoolgirls with secrets, you could say you’re practically on a date with just Bailey.

“Sounds like Sungho to me,” you reply, before gesturing at the two men walking in front of you. “Any idea what they’re whispering about? We’ve been here for, like, an hour and haven’t gone on any rides.”

“Probably pick-up lines,” Bailey shrugs, “Sungho’s been telling me all week about wanting to teach Jaehyun some pick-up lines so he can ‘succeed where I failed’, though I really don’t see the point since you’re already dating him. I told him to teach Sanghyeok instead, but he just said Sanghyeok doesn’t ‘see the vision’.”

This is news to you. You hum in response. “Huh, is that why he’s been using pick-up lines on me lately?”

Before Bailey can answer, the two men in front of you suddenly halt their footsteps and turn around, much to your confusion.

“Bailey and I are going to get some churros, we’ll catch the both of you later!” Sungho grabs Bailey’s hand and briskly walks away from you and Jaehyun, with Bailey squeaking out a “We are?” as they follow.

“What’s that about?” you turn to look at your boyfriend. Jaehyun looks back at you with a sheepish grin.

“I don’t know,” he replies in the most nonchalant tone he can muster, praying you don’t catch on to it (you do). “Let’s go ride the carousel!”

You raise an eyebrow at his behaviour, but oblige anyway, turning to walk towards the attraction.

“Wait!” Jaehyun suddenly raises his voice. You turn to face him, sheepishly bowing to passers-by who turned to look at the commotion.

“Your hand,” your boyfriend’s voice softens as he looks down at your right hand. “It looks heavy.”

“What–”

“Let me hold it for you!” In one swift motion, Jaehyun interlocks your right hand with his left, swinging them back and forth as he leads you to the carousel.

You stifle a laugh, turning to look at his reddened cheeks as he continues tugging you along while looking forward, refusing to meet your eyes.

You think you don’t mind Sungho teaching your boyfriend pick-up lines, if it means getting to see him flustered like this.

Jaehyun wakes up from his nap to the smell of pasta.

He rolls over to face your side of the bed and reaches over in an attempt to pull you into his chest, only to have his hands find purchase on your pillow instead. Groaning, Jaehyun opens one of his eyes reluctantly, and sure enough, you’re nowhere to be found on the bed.

Jaehyun sits up immediately, looking around the room in search of you before realising that you’re probably in the kitchen judging by the mouthwatering smell of tomato sauce. He scrambles to get up, and starts shuffling towards the kitchen to see you.

“Baby?” Jaehyun’s voice is groggy from the nap, and you turn towards the sound from your spot by the stove to see him trudging into the kitchen.

You smile. “How was your nap?”

“Not good. You weren’t there when I woke up,” Jaehyun whines, immediately latching onto your arm.

“Someone has to prepare dinner, honey, and we both know it’s not you,” you giggle, booping his nose.

Jaehyun whines a bit more before sniffing. “It smells good.”

You purse your lips in thought, a mischievous idea surfacing in the forefront of your mind.

“Really? I smell something burning, actually,” you try your best to sound genuinely concerned, and Jaehyun falls for it immediately.

“You do?” he straightens in alarm, looking down at the wok in front of the both of you. “It smells and looks fine to me.”

You grin, turning to him. “That’s because it’s not the pasta that’s burning, honey.”

“Then wha—”

“It’s my heart that’s burning for you!” you mask the embarrassment with a quick peck to your boyfriend’s lips. Pulling away, you find him frozen in his spot, cheeks reddening by the second.

He touches his lips with a lovesick expression and visibly deflates, throwing himself into your arms. “Baby, you can’t do that!”

Your chest vibrates with your laughter, and Jaehyun smiles subconsciously, nuzzling further into your neck as you wrap your arms around him. “Do what? Use pick-up lines? You’ve been using them on me all week.”

Your puppy-like boyfriend reluctantly tears himself from your embrace to look at you, eyes widening. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew, honey,” you pat his head affectionately, “They were horrible.”

Jaehyun huffs, burying his face in your neck once again. “I kept on using those pick-up lines because you wouldn’t react!”

You chuckle, rubbing your hands up and down his back soothingly. “Well, how do you want me to react, honey? I’m already yours. You don’t have to use cringy pick-up lines to win me over.”

Jaehyun plants a kiss on your neck, then whines. “Stop flirting with me. I’ll fall in love with you.”

“Oh?” you play along, squeezing him tighter around you.

“I’ll flirt with you every day, then.”

a/n: bnd writer icyminghao is back??? hello.

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sleepberries · 2 months ago

Note

For your spideyhood fics, if it interestes you any, I'd like to request some instances where Jason kills people/targets. See him enforce his rules and get his hands bloodied. I miss it. he is passionate about his goals and id really like to see him stick to his principles despite what everyone Wants him to do. If not killing then AT LEAST heavily torturing his target? maybe peter seeing him in his element and getting a reality check of what it means to really be dating the full, unfiltered jason todd? make it known he IS dating a very meticulous killer. OH or, have peter comparing jason to wade in how they execute their plans/targets? idk i just really miss jason getting things done His way, no compromising on his part. free him of these no kill rule and rubber bullet shackles ! unmuzzle my baby girl !!

okay this was actually great timing because a few days ago i finished the first draft of one of the prequels that is opening the discussion of just that !! it's important to note that while it hasn't really need shown yet, jason absolutely still is using lethal force. it's what he does!! and peter and him are absolutely butting heads over it. now, this ficlet doesn't have a name yet and i don't really have plans to post it for a while, but here you go !!

If there was one thing Peter Parker knew for absolute certain, it was that nothing good ever happened on a Tuesday.

Mondays were expected tragedies. Wednesdays marked the halfway point. Thursdays held promise. Fridays brought relief. But Tuesdays? Tuesdays were chaos incarnate—like the universe took all its leftover bad ideas and dumped them right in the middle of an otherwise perfectly fine week.

Case in point: the Red Hood was back in his city.

Peter spotted him immediately, a red-helmeted shadow skulking along a warehouse rooftop in the industrial district. It had been three weeks since their first encounter—since the mysterious vigilante had hauled that flickering wizard guy back to wherever murdery vigilantes took their prisoners. Peter had assumed that was the end of their brief, bizarre interaction.

Yet here he was again, lurking around Peter's turf like he owned the place.

"Well, well, well," Peter called out, landing with practiced grace on the edge of the roof. "If it isn't Gotham's favorite trigger-happy tourist."

Red Hood didn't startle. He merely turned his head, the expressionless helmet gleaming dully in the moonlight. "Spider-Man. Just the pest I was hoping to avoid."

"Aw, you remembered me!" Peter pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm touched. Really."

"Touch this," Hood growled, flipping him off before returning to what appeared to be surveillance of the warehouse across the street.

Peter rolled his eyes beneath his mask and approached, crouching down beside the leather-jacketed vigilante. "So what brings you back to the Big Apple? Miss my charming personality? The authentic pizza? Or did you just get lost on your way to Jersey's finest trash heap again?"

Red Hood remained focused on the warehouse. "I'm working."

"Ooh, cryptic. Love that for you." Peter leaned over, trying to see what had captured the other vigilante's attention so completely. "What kind of 'work' are we talking about? Because if it involves making people dead, I'm gonna have to firmly vote no on that."

Hood exhaled slowly, the sound distorted through his helmet. "How are you still alive when you're this annoying?"

"Superior reflexes, amazing good looks, and sheer force of will," Peter replied without missing a beat. "Now seriously, what's going on?"

For a moment, Peter thought Hood might actually shoot him just to shut him up. Instead, the vigilante reached into his jacket and pulled out a small device, projecting a holographic display of shipping manifestos.

"Someone's moving Scarecrow toxin through your city," he said finally. "Thought you might want to know before half of Manhattan starts hallucinating their worst fears."

Peter's humor evaporated instantly. "Scarecrow? As in the Gotham nutjob who makes people see nightmare fuel?"

"The same."

"How much toxin are we talking?"

"Enough to cover a ten-block radius," Hood replied, flicking through the manifesto. "They're moving it tonight. Splitting the shipment into three parts. This—" he gestured to the warehouse they were watching, "—is where they're dividing it up."

Peter studied the warehouse with newfound intensity. "Why would anyone bring that stuff here?"

"Money," Hood said simply. "Some rich asshole thinks it'll make a great party drug—the ultimate 'bad trip' for trust fund kids with too much cash and too little sense."

"That's..." Peter struggled to find words. "That's monumentally stupid."

"Welcome to humanity."

Peter's spider-sense buzzed faintly at the base of his skull—not immediate danger, but a warning of trouble ahead. He narrowed his eyes at Hood. "How do you know all this?"

The helmeted vigilante's posture shifted slightly. "I have my sources."

"Uh-huh. And you just happened to be passing through New York again?"

"Look, Spandex," Hood snapped, turning to face him fully. "I tracked these bastards from Gotham. They killed three people getting this stuff out. I don't give a rat's ass if you believe me or not, but that warehouse is about to receive enough fear toxin to turn this neighborhood into a horror show."

Peter held up his hands. "Okay, okay. I believe you."

Hood stared at him for a beat longer before returning to his surveillance. Peter watched him, mind racing. If what Hood was saying was true—and his spider-sense suggested it was—they had a serious problem on their hands.

"What's the plan?" Peter asked finally.

Hood glanced at him. "We?"

"Uh, yeah, we," Peter gestured between them. "This is my city, remember? I'm not letting you run around shooting people, no matter how bad they are."

The vigilante made a sound that might have been a laugh. "Cute. You think you can stop me."

"I know I can," Peter said, his voice dropping its usual playfulness. "The question is whether we work together efficiently or waste time fighting each other while dangerous chemicals get distributed through my city."

Red Hood went silent, considering. Finally, he put away the holographic device. "Fine. Here's how this goes. We wait until the shipment arrives. They'll bring it in, split it three ways. Once we confirm the toxin is there, we move in, neutralize the threat, and secure the shipment."

"When you say 'neutralize the threat'..." Peter began.

"I mean take down the criminals," Hood cut him off. "Christ, you think I'm going to execute people in front of you?"

"I genuinely have no idea what you're willing to do," Peter replied honestly. "That's kind of the issue here."

Hood tilted his helmet in what Peter imagined was an eye roll. "Just follow my lead and try not to get in my way."

"Counterproposal," Peter said brightly. "We follow my lead, since this is my city, and nobody dies. Crazy concept, I know."

"Here's a crazy concept for you—"

Hood's retort was cut short as a convoy of three unmarked vans pulled up to the warehouse. Men in dark clothing began unloading large metal crates.

"That's our cue," Hood muttered, reaching for his guns.

Peter quickly shot a web, stopping Hood's hand. "Whoa, hold up. We need a proper plan."

Hood yanked his hand free. "The plan is stop the bad guys, secure the toxin."

"Yeah, but like, with more steps and fewer bullets," Peter insisted. "These aren't just regular crooks—they're handling Scarecrow toxin. One broken container and everyone nearby is having the worst trip of their lives, us included."

Hood paused, then gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

"I'll take high ground, web up the exits to prevent escape. You cover the main floor but—" Peter fixed him with what he hoped was a stern look despite his mask, "—non-lethal takedowns only. Deal?"

Hood stared at him for a long moment. "If this goes sideways because I couldn't use necessary force, it's on you."

"I can live with that. Can't say the same for your potential victims."

Without waiting for a response, Peter shot a web and swung toward the warehouse, positioning himself above a skylight. From here, he could see men opening the crates, revealing smaller metal containers inside. One of the men lifted a vial of sickly yellow liquid, examining it before carefully placing it in a specialized transport case.

Peter's earpiece crackled as Hood's voice came through. "I count twelve hostiles. Three armed with automatic weapons, the rest have handguns."

"When did you—" Peter touched his ear in surprise.

"Slipped a comm link onto your suit while you were busy being righteous," Hood replied. "You're welcome."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Twelve guys with guns handling extremely dangerous chemicals. What could possibly go wrong?"

"On my mark," Hood said, ignoring his sarcasm. "Three... two... one..."

Peter crashed through the skylight, glass shattering around him as he descended. In the same moment, Hood burst through a side door, guns drawn but—true to their agreement—firing what appeared to be rubber bullets.

"It's Spider-Man!" someone shouted.

"And the Red Hood!" another yelled, panic evident in his voice.

"Package deal, fellas!" Peter quipped, webbing two gunmen to the wall before they could aim. "Buy one vigilante, get another free!"

Hood moved with brutal efficiency, putting a bullet through the head of the first gunman who raised his weapon. The man crumpled instantly, dead before he hit the floor. Two more criminals charged him, and Hood dispatched them with methodical precision—one shot to the chest, another to the throat. Blood splattered across the concrete as they fell.

"What the hell?!" Peter shouted, momentarily frozen in horror.

"Holy shit, stop!" Peter called out, webbing frantically to incapacitate the remaining gunmen before Hood could execute them too. "The toxin containers!"

He swung low, kicking the legs out from under a bulky man raising his weapon toward Hood's back. The vigilante nodded in acknowledgment before drawing a knife and slashing it across the fallen attacker's throat in one fluid motion. Blood pooled beneath the dying man as Hood moved on without hesitation.

"Behind you!" Hood barked suddenly.

Peter's spider-sense flared as he twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding a knife that would have slashed across his ribs. He webbed the attacker's face, blinding him, then connected with a solid punch that sent the man sprawling.

The fight was chaotic but controlled. Peter had to admit—grudgingly—that Hood knew what he was doing. His movements were precise, economical, lacking the flashy acrobatics Peter favored but no less effective.

Six men were down. Then eight. Then ten.

Just as victory seemed certain, one of the remaining gunmen made a desperate play. He grabbed a vial of toxin from an open case.

"Stay back!" he shouted, holding the vial threateningly. "One more step and I break this! We'll all get a lungful!"

Peter froze. Hood stopped advancing.

"Smart choice," the man sneered, backing toward an exit. His partner used the distraction to edge toward another door.

"Buddy, I don't think you understand what you're holding," Peter said carefully. "That's not just some drug. That's military-grade nightmare juice."

"Shut up!" the man shouted, his hand trembling dangerously around the vial.

Peter saw Hood's posture shift subtly, his hand inching toward a different pouch on his belt.

"Let me handle this," Peter said quickly, both to Hood and the gunman. "Nobody else needs to get hurt."

The man laughed, high and panicky. "You think I'm stupid? The second I put this down, I'm done for!"

"True," Hood said suddenly, his electronically distorted voice eerily calm. "You're done either way."

Before Peter could react, Hood had drawn and fired in one fluid motion. The bullet pierced the man's shoulder, causing him to stumble backward in pain. As he fell, Hood fired again, this time straight through his heart. The man was dead before he hit the ground, his hand releasing the vial as he collapsed.

"No!" Peter shouted, lunging forward.

The vial slipped from his fingers.

Time seemed to slow as Peter lunged forward, shooting a web to catch the falling container. His webbing wrapped around it just inches from the floor, suspending it in a cocoon of synthetic silk.

"Jesus Christ," Peter breathed, heart hammering against his ribs.

"Problem solved," Hood said, stalking over to kick away the fallen gunman's weapon before the man could recover.

Peter carefully retrieved the webbed vial, securing it back in its container. "You call that solved? You nearly caused exactly what we were trying to prevent!"

"I had it under control," Hood replied dismissively.

"Like hell you did!" Peter snapped. "Another inch and we'd all be tripping balls right now!"

Hood turned to the last remaining criminal, who had frozen in place during the commotion. The man immediately raised his hands in surrender.

"Don't shoot! Please!"

Hood advanced slowly. "Where were you taking the shipments?"

"I—I don't know the final destinations," the man stammered. "We were just paid to split it up and hand it off!"

"Not good enough," Hood growled. Without hesitation, he shot the man in the knee. The criminal screamed, collapsing to the ground.

Hood knelt beside him, pressing the hot barrel of his gun against the man's temple. "Let's try again. Where were the shipments going?"

"Jesus, stop!" the man sobbed. "There's a club in Manhattan! Blue Velvet! The owner's the distributor!"

Hood nodded, then pressed the gun harder. "Who's your supplier? Who got it out of Gotham?"

"Penguin's crew! It was Penguin's crew! Please!"

Hood considered this information, then stood up. Before Peter could react, he fired a single shot through the man's head.

"STOP!" Peter yelled, webbing Hood's arm and yanking it violently. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Hood whirled on him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Stopping you from crossing a line," Peter said firmly. "We got what we came for. The toxin is secure, the bad guys are down. It's over."

"It's not over until I get answers!" Hood snarled, wiping blood from his leather jacket. "You think this is the only shipment? You think these are the only guys involved? Wake up, Spider-Man!"

"You just executed them all in cold blood!" Peter's voice shook with rage and disbelief. "You didn't even hesitate!"

"That's how this works," Hood said coldly. "They knew what they signed up for. Trafficking fear toxin means they were ready to torture thousands of innocent people for profit."

"That doesn't give you the right to be judge, jury, and executioner!" Peter shouted. "We have a justice system for a reason!"

"A system that fails every single day," Hood countered, his voice dripping with contempt. "While you web them up and the cops process them, lawyers get them out, judges let them walk, and they're back on the street doing the same shit before the blood dries. I stop the cycle permanently."

Peter stared at the carnage around them—seven bodies, blood pooling on concrete. "This isn't justice. It's slaughter."

"It's necessary," Hood replied without remorse. "Get out of my way. I need to hit that club before they realize something's wrong here."

"No."

The tension between them stretched taut, a rubber band about to snap. Peter's spider-sense hummed steadily, warning him of the impending confrontation.

Hood moved first, feinting left before driving a right hook toward Peter's jaw. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Peter barely avoided the blow—Hood was fast, far faster than he had any right to be.

Peter flipped backward, creating distance. "You really want to do this now?"

"You started it," Hood replied, closing the gap with a flurry of strikes that Peter blocked or dodged.

Peter recognized military training in Hood's movements—disciplined, precise, unlike the brawlers he usually dealt with. He returned the assault with his own style—agile, unpredictable, enhanced by his spider-sense and superhuman strength.

They were evenly matched in ways that surprised Peter. For every blow Hood landed, Peter connected with one of his own. For every trick Peter employed, Hood had a counter.

"You're—pretty good—for a walking traffic light," Peter grunted, narrowly avoiding a kick aimed at his midsection.

"And you're—not completely useless—for a circus reject," Hood returned, ducking under Peter's roundhouse.

They clashed again, Hood's armored forearm meeting Peter's web-reinforced block with a solid thunk. They broke apart, circling each other warily.

Around them, webbed and injured criminals watched in confusion as their captors battled each other.

"This is stupid," Peter said finally, breathing hard. "We're on the same side."

"Are we?" Hood challenged. "Because from where I'm standing, you're protecting criminals."

"I'm preventing murder," Peter corrected. "There's a difference."

Hood gestured sharply at the containers of toxin. "You know what that stuff does? It doesn't just scare people. It breaks them. Pushes their brains past what they can handle. People claw their own eyes out. Jump from buildings. Kill their loved ones because they see monsters instead of family."

His voice had taken on a raw quality that penetrated even the electronic distortion of his helmet. "I've seen it firsthand. These bastards were willing to spread that for profit. They don't deserve your protection."

Peter lowered his guard slightly. "It's not about what they deserve. It's about who we are. What we stand for."

"Save the sermon," Hood snapped, but some of the fight had gone out of him. "Some problems can't be solved by webbing them to a lamp post and calling the cops."

"Maybe not," Peter admitted. "But if we start playing judge, jury, and executioner, how are we any different from the bad guys?"

Hood stared at him for a long moment, then holstered his gun with a muttered curse. "You're exhausting, you know that?"

Peter grinned beneath his mask. "It's part of my charm."

Before Hood could respond, the sound of sirens pierced the night air. Someone had called the police—probably a neighbor alarmed by the gunfire.

Hood tensed. "That's my cue to leave."

"Wait," Peter said quickly. "The toxin—we need to contain it properly."

Hood considered this, then nodded. "I've got specialized containment units in my bike. Can neutralize the compound if anything leaks."

"Great. I'll round up our new friends here while you get the gear." Peter gestured to the criminals, some moaning in pain, others silently watching their exchange. "Try not to shoot anyone on the way, okay?"

"No promises," Hood muttered, but there was less hostility in his tone now.

As Hood headed for the exit, Peter called after him: "Hey, Red!"

The vigilante paused, glancing back.

"Thanks. For the heads-up about the toxin. You didn't have to come all this way."

Hood seemed to consider his words carefully before responding. "Next time, I'll send a postcard."

Peter laughed. "Next time, maybe just call ahead. I know a great pizza place."

"I'll pass."

"Your loss," Peter shrugged. "Best slice in New York."

Hood hesitated at the door, then said, "Jersey pizza is better," before disappearing into the night.

Peter stared after him, then shook his head with a grin. "Delusional and murdery. What a combination."

After their fight ended in a stalemate, Hood had disappeared into the night with his intel on the club. Peter had spent the next hour securing the toxin in the specialized containment units Hood had left behind. He webbed up the two surviving criminals—the only ones he'd managed to protect from Hood's lethal efficiency.

When the police arrived, Peter was gone too, leaving only a note explaining about the Scarecrow toxin and the connection to Blue Velvet club. He deliberately omitted mentioning the Red Hood. The officers would find enough carnage without his explanation.

As Peter swung home later that night, his mind replayed the violence he'd witnessed. The Red Hood wasn't just dangerous or unpredictable—he was a killer, methodical and unrepentant. The vigilante executed his targets with a calculated precision that reminded Peter uncomfortably of stories he'd heard about the Punisher.

But unlike Deadpool's chaotic, almost playful approach to violence or Punisher's grim, militaristic execution, Hood killed with a cold efficiency that spoke of training and conviction. He didn't seem to enjoy the killing—he simply deemed it necessary.

And that, somehow, disturbed Peter even more.

"He really believes he's doing the right thing," Peter muttered, landing on a rooftop to catch his breath. The weight of that realization settled heavily on his shoulders.

Though Peter had tried to stop him, Hood had walked away with information about the club. Which meant more people would likely die tonight. Peter couldn't shake the blood from his conscience, even if he hadn't pulled the trigger himself.

His phone buzzed in his hidden pocket—probably Aunt May wondering why he wasn't home yet. As he reached for it, Peter noticed something stuck to his suit: a small tracking device, no bigger than a button.

He plucked it off, examining it with a mixture of distaste and reluctant fascination.

"Really, Hood?" he muttered.

Next to the tracker was a folded note, tucked securely into his suit. Peter opened it cautiously.

In sharp, angular handwriting: "Blue Velvet taken care of. Owner won't distribute toxin or anything else again. Six more dead, all guilty. Don't interfere next time. Thanks for the save with the vial. — RH"

Peter crushed the tracker between his fingers, letting the pieces scatter in the wind. Then he shot a web and continued on his way home, making a mental note to scan his suit more thoroughly next time.

Because there would definitely be a next time. He was sure of it.

Tuesday strikes again.

#my fanfic #peter parker x jason todd #spideyhood #jason todd x peter parker #asks

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andre8398 · 2 years ago

Text

A Hit and a Miss

-Yoyogi Academy (Baseball Field)

"BALL!" Kyuma drops the bat as he runs to first base as he hits his fourth ball.

THUMP

He seems unconstrained as the timer counts down. He can't keep his mind off of what happened at the hospital the afternoon prior.

THump THUmp

He was terrified, he thought he was gonna be reprimanded and yelled at, then why? "Why did he smile?"

-At the Hospital a few days prior

Thump Thump Thump

Ryugo's footsteps make the ground shake. Even with Mineaki's help it seemed like it was difficult to walk. Kyuma felt guilty for not being able to calm down his senior and for letting her use his baseball at all. Regardless he can't change the past, so he was prepared to accept the consequences.

THump THUmp THUMP

……….

Kyuma is trembling as the Giant student looms above him. A sense of dread fills the room as Ryugo reaches for Kyuma.

Everyone in the room felt uneasy as the intentions of the student were unknown, yet Durga and David were about to try to make a move. An expressionless Ryugo had his hand on Kyuma's head.

Rustle Rustle

Huff

"Hey, it's ok. Nothing to worry about kiddo."

Ryugo said with a weak smile as he rustled Kyuma's hair.

"W-what.. but we caused-"

"Don't beat yourself up about it. Things happen, the important thing is no one got hurt" Mineaki gives Ryugo a look of worry as he says those words. "and you both are taking responsibility for your actions. So don't worry." Ryugo's weak smile becomes more genuine and warm, leaving Kyuma and Durga baffled.

Thud

"Huh? What's tha…………

For a second the world grows silent.

-Yoyogi Academy (Baseball Field)

Kyuma snaps out of his thoughts at this silence as realizes that the game is over, his team had won and he is on his way to line up with the rest of his team.

"It's over already?" Kyuma questions himself as he tries to figure out what had just happened. Kyuma then goes to ask a teammate what happened after the game.

"Yea, It was crazy. You start to play like you were a pro, it was almost like you were possessed." Kyuma's teammates says with a twinkle in his eye.

Kyuma realizes what has happened and thanked his teammates as he finished changing. "Did you help me out, David?" A small child shepherd clings to his shoulder and nods. "I see, Thank you. Let's go meet up with Durga and Ryugo."

-A while later in a Clearing

"This is the right spot, right Dav- Aauh!" Kyuma questions as he sees no one around. However before Kyuma could finish his question he is lifted and taken away by a Red Dragon.

SKREEE!

The Dragon gleefully Skrees as he looks at Kyuma.

"WOW! YOU GOT BIG QUICK, PYRE!" Kyuma exclaims as Prye takes Kyuma into the mountains. As a clearing comes into view the dragon slows down. As Kyuma and Prye get closer to the clearing they see Ryugo and Durga sparring. Ryugo dodges and parries every one of Durga's attacks. "So they're at it again?" Kyuma sighs as the red dragon lands and gently puts Kyuma on the ground.

"WHY .. CAN'T….. UGH LAND…. A.. SHOO- WOAHHHH!" Durga gets thrown into a bush after a failed attempt to attack Ryugo from behind. "Augh… you're hurt, how are you still able to dodge and block my attacks?"

"It doesn't take much energy to dodge an attack, plus your attacks aren't that strong without that black energy stuff you used before. So I can block your attacks." Ryugo explains coldly as Durga springs into action again.

"AUHHHHHHH!"

Durga jumps and launches a spin kick. In the blink of an eye Ryugo plants his feet in the ground and places his arm in a defensive position.

THUD!

Ryugo is unmoved like a pillar standing firm. Suddenly using the momentum of the spin Durga launches a second kick. Even with the larger amount of force Ryugo still holds his ground. Time starts to slow until it feels like it stops completely.

Ryugo's eyes widen as something flashes through his mind. A young girl stands before him in a fighting stance.

"This time I'll take you down, Big Bro." she says as she begins

ryu..

"What was that?" Ryugo thought to himself and panicked.

ryugo……

"Who was that girl? She looked familiar."

Ryugo……….

"Was that a memory?"

RYUGO!

Ryugo opens his eyes and sees Kyuma over him.

"Kyu- ma?" Ryugo says as he slowly gets up, with Kyuma helping him. "What happened?"

"You looked like you were in a daze, and seeing her Durga struck you in the neck and knocked you out. She then said she "needed to go meet with the track coach about the next track meet." Kyuma tells Ryugo, with a worried expression.

"Hmmm I see. Well at least that's over. That tigress is relentless." Ryugo says with a bit of relief in his voice. "So, Kyuma, how was your game? Oh, and I hope Prye didn't scare ya."

Kyuma looks shocked at Ryugo, his senior was knocked out cold yet he acts like it was nothing. "That's what you're worried about Senpai?"

"Yea, I wasn't hurt and got a nice nap out of it. So I don't think it matters."

Kyuma looks at Ryugo baffled and just sighs at his seniors' cold and almost emotionless reply.

"I was surprised she got so big so quickly." Prye screeches in joy as Kyuma pets her head causing her to purr a bit. "Oh and the game was alright, I got a bit distracted but it worked out in the end."

"Well good. And sorry for making you come all the way out here into the mountains. I didn't know another place with enough space for Durga and me to spar."

"I-it's alright Senpai, it's nice to be in an open area with lots of room to move around, to bad that it looks like it's starting to get dark."

"Hmm alright then. How about you call Dr. Mineaki and ask him if it's ok to stay a bit after curfew? That way we can get a bite to eat." Ryugo gives a small smile, as David tugs on Kyuma's shirt with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Alright, hopefully he says yes" Kyuma says a he walks away looking for some signal. Pyre tags along to help.

After a while Kyuma is out of sight. Ryugo slowly gets up and goes over to a giant boulder, he slowly picks the boulder up. After adjusting its position he starts to do some squats. Some time passes and Ryugo finishes his squats and starts to other exercises while a shadowy figure stares from behind a tree hidden.

"48……. 49……. 50……. Guagh!" Ryugo finishes his final set as he chucks the boulder in the direction of the figure. Though just as he was about to walk over to where the boulder was.

"SKREEEE!" Ryugo heard Pyre call as Kyuma's group flies back

"Ah good your back, what he say?" Ryugo asks as he approaches the three. As the shadowy figure clings on to the tree terrified relived the boulder didn't hit him.

"He was surprisingly alright with it, he said just get back to the dorms safe and don't push yourself too hard with the physical reconditioning. Whatever that means?" Kyuma says, wondering, Ryugo chuckles slightly.

"Don't worry about it, let's go eat! Oh and Pyre I left you some extra meat at your nest, thanks for your help oh and tell the others i said hi!" Ryugo says as he and Kyuma wave goodbye to Pyre as the wyvern flies away.

"Now, my turn." Ryugo steps back from Kyuma and takes a deep breath.

Ryugo's body starts to shine as energy envelops his body. Ryugo grows slightly in size as horns, wings and a tail made from pure energy grow from Ryugo. A shocked Kyuma stares in disbelief.

"SO COOL! I didn't know you could do that senpai?!" Kyuma exclaims. "You kinda look like Wakan senpai when your like that." The shadow figure sneezes as he wonders what Kyuma just said Ryugo noticing but ignores it.

"It's not something I can do a whole lot since I'm still recovering but I should be fine for now. I think I'll call it my dragonborn form." Ryugo says as he hugs Kyuma tightly to make sure nothing happens to him.

"Alright let's goooo……" Ryugo says as he takes off into the city…………

#housamo #tokyo afterschool summoners #Kyuma #Durga #Oc Ryugo

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years ago

Text

The Light of Dead Stars (02) | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x (f.) Reader; side Seokjin x (f.) OC; side Reader x Namjoon

Genre/Tags: arranged marriage, fake romance, boss/workmate aus; angst, drama, fluff, smut; slow burn

Chapter Warnings: Foul language (18+)

Chapter Word count: 9.7k

Series Masterlist | Muse Moodboard | Setting Moodboard

Status: Complete

Series summary: Your unconventional arranged marriage with your company’s President, Kim Seokjin, is necessary, practical, and simple - both your families benefit, and he minds his own business and so do you. But when a slip-up causes his parents to believe that you and he are in love, you have no choice but to pretend you are, especially with the trip to France for his brother’s wedding coming up. When you get back to Seoul, things start to change, and Seokjin is faced with the most difficult decision he has to make.

“Yes, Mr. Smith, that sounds great,” Seokjin says as he looks out the car window, seeming to notice the unusually dark sky this Monday morning. He continues to speak in what you’ve now confirmed is his business voice, low and serious and oozing with confidence. “Let me go check my schedule and see when we can meet. My secretary will let you know, thank you.”

He puts the phone down and like clockwork, calls for the man in the passenger seat.

“Yoong—”

“Yoongi, what’s my schedule like this week?” You interject in your low and supposedly confident voice, knowing it’s going to be Jin’s next sentence.

He turns to you with furrowed brows. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Oh, not at all,” you smile sweetly, trying to act innocent.

“She is, actually,” Yoongi says matter-of-factly. “She wonders why you ask that every time when you can easily check the tablet that you’re holding to see your schedule.”

“Gee, thanks for throwing me under the bus, Mr. Min,” you glare at him, but he merely sticks out the tip of his tongue to tease you while the rest of his face remains expressionless.

“So you were teasing,” Seokjin arches his eyebrow.

“It’s just funny that you ask Yoongi after every one of these morning calls when you literally could just tap once and your calendar would show up in the tablet you’re holding,” you say with a little laugh.

“Ah, it’s a habit,” your husband chuckles. “And I don’t know, something about his voice calms me down, like he’s not stressed about my schedule even if it’s pretty tight. Kinda need that one person sometimes, you know?”

You give him a comforting smile and he smiles back.

“But really, Yoongi, how’s it today?” Seokjin asks.

“You have a meeting with your father in the morning, a luncheon in Jeju, a press conference in the afternoon, and a business call with the Singapore office after,” Yoongi says without missing a beat.

“Ah, that’s quite a day you’ve got ahead,” you nudge your husband’s arm.

“And what about ___? How’s her schedule like today?” He asks his secretary.

“Mrs. Kim hasn’t given me access to her calendar yet,” the younger man replies.

The name is still something you’re getting used to, even if it’s what most people call you already, but you don’t correct Yoongi in front of Jin the way you normally would when your husband isn’t around. You don’t want him to feel like you’re the one who despises the situation.

“Why not?” He turns to you.

“Uh, why, though? Yoongi’s your secretary. He only needs to know your schedule,” you shrug, also still getting used to other people being in your business now. You’ve only been a Director for a year, yet even having an assistant who has to manage things for you is something you’re not fond of.

“There are conjugal events that Yoongi can only confirm our attendance to if he knows your schedule,” Seokjin explains. “I won’t ask you to drop what you’re doing for it, so he has to know, too. But I understand if it’s too intrusive, I won’t force it upon you, either.”

Right. You do have your wife duties, after all.

“Ah, it’s fine then,” you say, immediately giving access to the said man, who eventually states your schedule for the day.

“Product deliberations in the morning, lunch meeting with the chef for the collab project, farm visit in the afternoon,” Yoongi reads out, and you do agree - his calming voice reduces the stress somehow.

“That’s quite the day you’ve got ahead, too,” Jin turns to you. “You’re going to the farm? That’s a long trip.”

“Two hours is doable,” you shrug. “The team’s going to visit the production site and they need to submit the reports by the end of the week so I offered to go; I haven’t been there in a while, anyway.”

“Okay. Be careful, alright?”

“I will, don’t worry.”

You all exit the car and head inside the building, with you still not used to the company staff bowing to you as you walk side-by-side their President. You enter the elevator and savor the silence inside before the rest of your busy day starts. The doors open to your floor and you turn to him.

“Be careful too, okay? See you at home.”

He smiles brightly at you, something you don’t think you’ve seen much of with all that’s happened.

“See you at home.”

You will your tired body to get out of the car and walk to your house, and if it wasn’t so humiliating, you’d crawl. All your engagements today extended to the point that you were only able to start the trip back to Seoul at 7PM, and with the Tuesday night traffic, it’s no surprise that you’d just got home, and it’s already 11PM.

You wonder how Jin’s flight this afternoon was, and how the press conference went, and if he’d already eaten, and just as you’re about to call him, you hear a car stop and the door open.

“You just got home, too?” He asks, seemingly worried.

“Yeah. I’m exhausted. And hungry. Have you eaten?” You respond, keying in the security code of your door.

“No. I didn’t know what time I’d end so I didn’t have Mrs. Kang prepare anything. Let’s just order then,” he suggests, turning to you with a cheeky smile. “The usual?”

“The usual,” you nod, taking your phone to call for delivery.

Instead of heading to your rooms, Jin slumps himself on the kitchen bar stool while you grab his favorite red from the chiller and pour him a drink. You take your usual beer from the fridge and sit next to him.

“You think the President of my company would mind if I clock in late for work tomorrow?” You ask, gulping your drink.

“Nah, I think you’re good. Screw him if he expects you to go on time after slaving the whole day today,” he chuckles.

“Maybe he should take a bit of a rest, too. It’s been a long day,” you urge him, knowing he rarely takes breaks because it’s Jin and he has too many things going on to be afforded a break. And he likes it that way. He told you once it’s better that he has his feet in everything in the company; it helps him lead better.

“He’ll think about it,” he releases a long breath.

“Yeah, that’s code for he won’t,” you laugh. “But seriously, snoozing your alarm or at least extending it for another 30 minutes won’t hurt.”

“Yeah, that’s if I even get woken up by my alarm,” he says. “I wake up before it goes off.”

“That’s a sign of growing old, you know?”

“Shut up,” he nudges you, standing up to get the door for the delivery.

Jjajangmyeon and samgyupsal from a family restaurant not far away is your go-to at times like this. There was one time that you and Jin were up until 3AM working separately and got hungry but were too tired to cook, and this restaurant was still open and served the best noodles and pork belly that you’d had at that time of the day. They still tasted delicious the next evening, and you both knew it would be your staple when things are going tough.

You both sit on the living room floor with the TV on; you learned that Jin likes watching random sports on mute because it’s still as exciting but less stressful when there are no sounds.

You’re both eating quietly, savoring the peacefulness of a place you both try to feel like home everyday, and with the little routines you’ve both managed to have without outwardly talking about it, you feel like you’ve both succeeded. For how long this is gonna go, you’re not quite sure. But you’re enjoying it for now, and that’s really the kind of comfort you need at a time like this.

“How was your visit to your parents last weekend by the way?” He breaks the silence. “I forgot to ask. Is your dad doing better?”

It’s been a month since his surgery and 3 weeks since your parents found out about your arrangement with your husband. It’s safe to say that they’re not big fans of the whole thing - especially Seokjin, sadly - but they’ve taken to just accepting that you know what you’re doing, and that they’ll stay out of it as much as possible.

“He’s okay, and yeah, the trip was fine. The usual, really. We just talked about work, video-called with my siblings, bought groceries and medicines, nothing exciting.”

“Do they still hate me?” He asks, his voice falling.

“They don’t hate you,” you nudge his leg. “They just don’t get it.”

“A lot of people don’t.”

“Why, who else knows?” You turn to him curiously.

“My brother. And by extension, his fiance. And given my amazing social life, my secretary happens to also be my only friend so yeah, him, too. Taehyung called me dumb; Hyun-a thinks I’m making a terrible mistake, and Yoongi doesn’t smile when I mention Seri so I’m just assuming he’s not thrilled about it,” Jin chuckles to himself mockingly.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, my brother called me dumb, too. My best friends said I’m being stupid, and well, Yoongi only smiles on special occasions so he’s fine,” you respond.

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” Jin shakes his head, but you do see the twinkle in his eyes, as if he’s trying his best to find the humor or the silver lining in all this right now.

“And Seri? Does she get it?”

“She says she does,” Jin shrugs. “That’s kind of her favorite line, actually. ‘Don’t worry, I get it.’ It used to make me feel good, you know? That she understood. But lately, I… Well, I know I haven’t been fair. To her, to you,” he trails.

“I’m the last person you should worry about, Jin,” you try to comfort him, though honestly, you weren’t expecting him to open up to you like this. “Seri’s been around for you for years. She’s the one who–”

“Is that enough, though? I mean, is that enough of a reason? Because she’s been around all this time?” He wonders out loud.

“She hasn’t given up on you, has she?” You ask. “I mean, that says a lot about what a person feels - hanging on, lingering, waiting… it’s as if there’s this certainty that they’re still gonna be there after all this time.”

You know it’s bullshit, what you’re saying, mostly because it’s what you want to believe. You’ve hung on, lingered, waited for the same person to come back for 5 years, as if that uncertainty is what makes everything so certain for you.

But Seri has been around for Jin just as long as he’s been around for her. Maybe that says something - whatever it is, there’s still meaning there.

“I used to think it was that simple,” Jin replies. “Our on-off secret thing has lasted all these years and we still can’t let the other go and months ago, I would’ve thought that it said a lot, like you said. But now I don’t know if it’s about her anymore or if it’s about me.”

“What about you? You mean, why can’t you let her go?”

“I mean, why can’t I fight for her to be more?”

There’s a brief moment of tense silence, and you try to act unsurprised by his sudden openness and honesty.

“Much as I like helping you figure things out, I’m afraid that’s one thing you have to figure out on your own,” you pat him on the shoulder. “I don’t know enough about Seri, or you, or your relationship, so I can’t really say much. But now you got me thinking, I should probably be asking myself the same thing.”

“About the guy you like?” He wonders.

You nod in response. “I still think there’s a reason why he hasn’t completely let me go, why he still holds onto his word that he’s going to come back for me. Maybe I should start wondering why I haven’t asked him to come back yet, or ever considered following him wherever he is. Why I’ve never - like you said - fought for him - for us - to be more?”

It’s quite ironic, talking about the people you love and are still holding onto with the man you’re married to. But there’s something oddly comforting about this moment, that even after a long day, you could sit at home with Jin and talk about the things that don’t make sense to you and feel like at some point in time, it will.

“Do we keep people because we want them or because we think there’s no one else to hold onto?” He wonders out loud again.

“Do we let people go because we think we’re better off without them, or they’re better off without us?” You say this time. “Or maybe because we love them?”

“That’s a good thought,” he says, sighing as he finishes his food and leans on the seat of the couch.

“It’s a sad thought,” you chuckle. “Too sad for 12:30AM on a weeknight, actually,” you turn to him.

“We should go to bed,” he stands and takes your hand to help you up. “It’s been a long day.”

“Uh-uh. I don’t know about you, though, but my boss allowed me to clock in to work late,” you smirk.

“Ah, what a kind boss you have,” he laughs. “He’s a good one, isn’t he?”

“He is. And I hope he never forgets that, too.”

Taehyung and Hyun-a’s wedding was dubbed the event of the year by the entertainment industry. She’s a well-loved actress who’s known for her serious roles on screen but off it, she’s a bubbly young woman who adores pretty things. Taehyung, aside from being the youngest of the well-known Kim family, is a model himself and loves luxury.

It’s a fact that they’re an incredibly good-looking couple, but beyond all the glitz and glamor are two people who truly love each other. You’ve seen it firsthand, as the banters and affection they display during the few family events that you’ve attended since marrying Seokjin don’t seem fabricated to you. They’re genuine, and even during your dinner and drink nights with the younger Kim, you’ve heard him endlessly talk about Hyun-a and the lovely babies they’re going to make.

It’s expected that they would have an extravagant celebration, and they will - in a grand ballroom with the view of the Seoul skyline against the Han River, with many from the entertainment and business industries attending. It’s public, too.

But before that, they’ll be having a private ceremony in France - which is where they met during a serendipitous trip - and only a handful of people are invited to the intimate but still lavish event in the Kim family’s holiday home in Montauroux.

That’s happening in a few weeks, but right now, what you’re focused on is this afternoon’s fitting that Seokjin’s mother insisted you have. She’d taken the measurements of your wedding gown and used it to have dresses made for both affairs.

It’s a Saturday and you’re heading over to a luxury boutique store to see the semi-final outfits after you’d chosen the designs not long ago.

“Hey, ready to go?” Seokjin calls out from outside your bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” you say, heading out the door and meeting him by the stairs. “I don’t know why I’m nervous.”

“They’re just dresses, ___. And you literally went through weeks of gown fitting with my mother and you were fine,” he reasons as you both exit the house then enter the car.

“Uh, I was losing my shit every time,” you admit. “You know I’m not… made for these things.”

“For what, exactly?”

“For glamor?”

You see the disappointment on his face when he asks, “since when did that matter?”

“It doesn’t, but it’s just… I’ve been accompanying you to social and business events with all these rich people, yes. But I can catch up with them,” you explain. “I work in the field. I’ve been trained to engage with those kinds of people but the people who are gonna be at this wedding? They’re celebrities, the most beautiful people in the world and I’m supposed to mingle with them? Beside you?”

“Hey, you’re not so bad,” he says, wincing when you pinch his arm. “I’m kidding! But honestly though, where is this coming from? Is someone making you feel bad about it or something?”

“No, not really. It just crossed my mind since there was an article about the guests at the wedding and I went from thinking that I’m probably gonna lose my mind from being starstruck, to wondering how I’m gonna keep up - looks-wise and others.”

“No one has to keep up with anyone, ___,” he tries to comfort. “You’re you and they’re them. There’s something that makes them stand out and there’s something that makes you stand out. It doesn’t always have to be about looks.”

“Gee, thanks for telling me I’m ugly.”

“Yah! That’s not what I meant!“ he yells, laughing now as you’ve started to repeatedly pinch him. “I’m just saying, you have nothing to worry about. You have your own charm and charisma about you - looks-wise and others,” he emphasizes. “You’re not being kind to yourself whenever you think you’re not pretty or good or glamorous enough.”

“Are you saying that your high regard for your looks is you being kind to yourself?” You tease.

Jin has never shied away from the compliments about his looks, and you don’t blame him. You have a pair of functioning eyes - he’s objectively handsome, like a classy gentleman with an angular face and perfectly placed and measured features.

You’d feel so immeasurably small and undeserving as his wife if only he isn’t as kind and assuring as he is. You still get a little overwhelmed sometimes, but you’re thankful that at least the worst that people have said about you when the news came out about your engagement is that you’re “too plain and forgettable” and that at least you’d now have money to get your face done. His family had been the one to hype you up by boasting of your academic and professional achievements and that seemed to shut people up, somehow.

“It’s part of it, yeah,” he chuckles. “But that’s also me just keeping up. This is such an embarrassing thing to admit but that was one of my concerns growing up - proving that I’m more than just my looks, that I’m actually competent and deserving of my achievements that I worked hard for.”

“Ugh, beautiful people problems. Can’t relate,” you laugh, but you can’t deny the way you soften at his confession. “Is that why you work as hard as you do? To show people that you actually do work and that you’re good at it?”

“Partly, yeah,” he nods. “But also, the company means a lot to my family. Sure, I have a role to play as the eldest son, but I like it. I love food, and the fact that I get to continue this legacy of making good food accessible to the general public, that makes me feel good; it makes me satisfied. At the end of the day, that’s what really matters to me.”

You hum, absorbing his words. You feel the same way. Your mom was raised by farmers and had such high regard for food, and she always made the best home cooked meals, no debate. And while you weren’t so privileged growing up, you were blessed to enjoy comforting food, and it’s something you’ve taken with you as you set out your career. Culinary school was too expensive, and working for the Kims, in a company that mass produces good food so that it could be available to the public, is another way you get to show your appreciation for it.

Your silence tells him that you’re thinking about what he’s said. You and Jin talk about food and work an equal amount of time, but not at this level, and he appreciates being able to relate with someone like this. It’s one of the things that caught his attention when you became Director - you had such love and appreciation for the craft, and that always earns his respect.

But he still enjoys teasing you sometimes, just because you’ve somewhat grown comfortable with each other these past months.

“But you know, if you want me to tell you you’re beautiful, just let me know. I’ll do the husband duty by doing that,” he smirks.

“You really have to ruin it, huh?” You scowl, but he doesn’t miss the small smile and satisfying sigh you make when you turn to the window and close your eyes.

You enter the chic boutique store in a fancy hotel and take in your surroundings. You don’t think you’re ever going to get used to it, though a part of you winces at the thought of having to let this all go at some point.

Seokjin’s mother greets you and introduces you to the designer, who was lovely enough to give you the cheapest price she could for the kind of dresses you would have. You insisted on paying for them, but Jin argued with you about it - perhaps the only time you ever did.

You were doing him a favor and you wouldn’t even be needing to spend if it wasn’t for his family, but you stood your ground. In the end, you agreed for him to pay for one dress - the one for the event in Seoul - while you paid for the other one, and even you were surprised it wasn’t as expensive as you thought. You suspect his mother had something to do with it but you didn’t want to question any further, afraid to cause some rift that’s unnecessary.

“Hello, darlings,” she chirps, giving you then Jin a hug. “I’ve seen the dresses and they look so stunning. You’re both going to love them,” she smirks.

You try to not think much of it. You’re not quite sure what his parents expect of you and him. Do they think you and Jin would end up falling in love and living happily ever after? Perhaps. She was arranged with Mr. Kim, too, but you wouldn’t have known - those two seem so affectionate with each other. You don’t know how much of it is for show, but you’ve seen them laugh together and sweetly look at each other and you think that’s not something that two people could easily fake.

You follow one of the staff who leads you to a changing room that’s as big as your apartment before you moved in with Jin, and you let her assist you.

It’s the magic of an expensive fabric and dazzling jewelry because you definitely didn’t look this good just moments ago.

You exit to find a sitting Seokjin, in his blue suit jacket and brown trousers, cross-legged with a cup of tea and conversing with his mother. He turns to you after his mother squeals in delight, and smiles. It’s a soft one, something you don’t see that often.

He stands as if to assess you, and with a hand on his chin, he nods. “You can definitely keep up,” he winks, and while you think it should make you flustered, somehow his compliment just made you feel warm and comforted.

“What about you? Are we going to see your suit?”

“Tae had it made in France,” Jin replies. “I tried it on when I went there for the food tasting and it looks nice - chic and summery like they wanted.”

“Hmm, looking forward to the surprise, then,” you smile.

You turn to head back to the changing room and wait to be surprised yourself. Since the gown for the celebration in Seoul was paid for by Jin, you don’t know what it looks like. All you said was that you wanted it to be simple, and that you’d just like to complement his outfit that you know is going to be breathtaking.

Your jaw almost drops to the floor. It’s simple, alright, but it’s so perfectly elegant that you couldn't have dreamed of a better gown for yourself. The champagne color is just the right shade you want, and the satin material is so soft, so luxurious, so classy. It hugs your figure just right, and the off-shoulder neckline and slit at the front show just enough skin to make you feel sexy and confident.

Seokjin sits on the couch, taking a sip from his cup of tea and browsing through the magazine. You’re taking longer this time, and he thinks you’re probably still marveling at the gown you’re wearing. His mother had shown him the design, and he just had a feeling you’re going to like it.

You’re not a flashy person. You do like to dress up at work - you’d said it adds to the respect you feel you need to keep earning as a young female director - but these types of events are particularly tricky for you. He doesn’t want you to think you have to overcompensate. Like he’d said, you have your own charm.

Sure, you’re not exactly his type looks-wise, not like Seri whose perfect mix of puppy-eyes and pale skin and feminine features captured his attention immediately; you’re a lot simpler and more natural than that. And that’s something he at least appreciates.

He hopes you cut yourself some slack, though, as he’d felt sometimes you feel more anxious than he’s used to when he takes you to events, something you’d voiced out earlier. He wishes he got to say more and made you feel more at ease, at least, and he tells himself he’s going to do that next time.

But as you walk down the hallway with an excited smile on your face, he’s just as satisfied as you are.

“Okay, I can definitely keep up,” you chirp, twirling around for him and giggling as you almost lose your balance in the heels you were asked to wear.

“Yeah, you definitely can.”

You slice the ravioli in half and munch on a piece, your eyes furrowed, hoping that you finally get the pasta right. You huff and aggressively eat the remaining half, scowling as you do.

“Aish, how do I get this right?” You wail to no one.

“You know that’s not your job anymore, right?” Seokjin’s voice echoes in the kitchen, your pouty face making him laugh. “You didn’t get promoted for you to still be doing product developer tasks,” he reminds you. “Get your people to do this. You’re sacrificing your weekends to perfect this recipe.”

“Says the man who does just that,” you arch an eyebrow. “You were literally mixing around with the packet broth recipe that your people should be doing. And that was just last week.”

“I was making us dinner,” he defends.

“You made 4 batches of the broth, Jin; 5 if I hadn’t stepped in and complained that I was starving.”

“Fine, you caught me,” he says, taking your fork and eating the other piece of ravioli, muttering that it’s good. “Your point is?”

“My point is that I have as much right to do this as you do. Also, it’s good but the pasta’s too thick.”

“Wasn’t this a project from last year? I thought one of your teams was working on it already,” he asks, opening cupboards and drawers and taking out ingredients and a pan.

“They were; research had begun but the other team working on the samgak kimbap were down some people and the ravioli team had to help, so this took a backseat. It picked up again but there are still issues with the ingredients and pricing so I decided to help, otherwise we’d be behind schedule.”

You watch Jin heat up the pan, take the remaining white kimchi from the jar, put it in a bowl, and cut it into smaller pieces. He slices bacon, canned spam, and sausages and boils some eggs.

“So the filling is okay, it’s just the pasta you need to figure out?” he asks, as he starts to fry the meat; the sizzling sound is music to your ears.

You hum, getting lost in how he works, as he now adds the white kimchi - with some chili paste and flakes - then the rice, mixing everything until they’re ready to go. He puts it in a serving plate then adds soft boiled eggs on top with some garnish.

When he’s stressed or wants to take his mind off things, he cooks. It’s one of the first things you learned about him after you got married.

You grew up in a humble home and watched your mother make stews from the vegetables in the garden - humble cooking for a family like yours. But you know Jin grew up traveling the world, being exposed to various cuisines and shopping for expensive ingredients like it’s a normal thing.

You’ve seen him make pasta from scratch, cook steak to perfection, and whip up interesting and complicated dishes, and it always astounds you. He works in the kitchen with so much grace and confidence, and he’d mentioned once that if he wasn’t the eldest who’s expected to run the company, he would’ve made a career as a chef or a food critic.

But of all the times that he’s made meals out of the fanciest ingredients, some of which you’ve never heard of before, it’s when he’s making food like this that you’re most impressed. Somehow it tells you that at the end of the day, this is still his comfort food, and this is his way of comforting and encouraging you. You’ve mentioned quite a few times that aside from pancakes, all-meat kimchi fried rice is something you also like to gorge on when you’re stressed.

He passes you bowls and spoons and motions for the living room. “Turn on any food channel, let’s have dinner.”

You follow, and soon after, he’s plopping down next to you on the floor with the plate and 2 bottles of beer.

And that’s how you spend the rest of the evening - watching culinary shows, from cooking contests to documentaries, and munching on chips and ice cream after your meal.

“I just watch when I’m stuck,” he says, after all the oohs and ahhs due to the delicious food on your screen and to the new things you learn. “For inspiration, yes, but mostly to remind myself that the perfect recipe is out there, and I’m going to find it.”

You softly smile at the thought.

It’s odd, being married to the President of your company and not being romantically involved with him. It’s almost like a learning experience, and if that’s something else you could take from this arrangement other than your family being safe, then you’d take it and make this decision over and over again.

“Hmm, there’s still a bunch of things in the pipeline. You want us to cater to the North and South American and European markets,” you remind him. “I’m gonna need more hours of inspiration and reminders that the perfect recipe is out there.”

“Good thing we live together, then,” he chuckles. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Watching food shows becomes a staple of your next 2 weeks. You’d usually spend your evenings after shared dinner on your own - you speak with your family, work on your finances, and do what little social engagement online that you can sneak in, while Jin does whatever he does in his room on the other side of the hallway.

But after that night when you started watching your cooking shows over whatever meal he’s cooked up or you bought on your way home, it’s become your only form of bonding.

You’ve been visiting your plantations and production sites out of town, so you’ve been leaving the house earlier than him. He’s busy, as usual, going wherever he needs to go and attending whatever he needs to attend, but whoever one of you gets home first, there’s always a dish ready and an empty seat on the living room floor for the one who arrives later.

It was after the fourth night that you got your inspiration and shared it with the team after, but the TV nights kept going, even if some of them had Jin falling asleep and you, having to wake him up to go to bed.

But you figure that he’s the one who’s stressed this time, given the upcoming presentation that he has to deliver for a leadership conference for young entrepreneurs. So you indulge him, letting him choose the show and answering his random questions as he hypes himself up for the big day.

It’s a Sunday afternoon and he’d just arrived from the tailor while you just woke up from a nap after an early morning flight from Singapore.

Your phone rings and you stare at it for a few seconds, too tired to pick it up, when you see Jin’s name on the screen.

“Hey, are you awake now?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks to you,” you huff. “How did you know I was asleep?”

“I was knocking on your door and calling your name but you weren’t responding.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy next to me in the plane was snoring so loud, I didn’t get to sleep.”

“I told you to take First Class, you never listen,” he groans.

“I don’t use my President’s wife perks for work, okay?” You remind him. “Business class was fine. The dude was just enjoying his sleep too much. Anyway, you okay? What’s up?”

“I need your help. Can you come to my room?”

“Be there in a sec,” you say, stretching a bit before walking across the hall.

You’re still in your clothes from this morning, not minding much. You call his name when you’re near the door so you don’t see something you’re not supposed to, and he tells you that you can enter.

“I got these 2 suits today and I’m not sure which one to wear for my presentation on Wednesday,” he says, lifting both up.

He puts each set against his body so you could get a better assessment, although objectively, either one would look good on him, something you voice out.

“But I cut my hair and lightened it a bit. That has a bearing. My suit needs to match my hairstyle so I look young.”

“Jin, you’re 35. You are young; you look even younger than your age,” you respond.

“I’m at least 10 years older than the people I’m going to be presenting to,” he says. “I need to look relatable.”

“Jin, you’re a fucking billionaire. You’re not gonna be any more relatable to those youngins regardless of which suit you decide to wear,” you chuckle, but you see the stress on his face and you give in. “Fine, go try them on and I’ll see.”

“Alright, go sit on the couch and I’ll change.”

You do as he’s asked, and it’s really the first time that you spend more than a few seconds in his room. It’s cleaner than you imagined, but it definitely has more photos than you expected.

You eye his shelf and see the sporty side of your husband. There’s a tennis trophy, the label a little faded so you assume he was probably in high school. There’s a photo of him snowboarding, another one golfing, and then on a horse. There’s even one with what you can tell is a yellowfin tuna. Ah, rich people hobbies, you chuckle to yourself.

But there are more photos - with his brother, his sister, his parents; not many with his friends, though, at least in his later years. You can only imagine what he had to give up just to be where he is now.

He exits his walk-in closet wearing a dark blue triple-breasted suit over a white polo and you admit that he looks pretty good in it. You let him turn and walk around and he follows, thinking you haven’t seen enough when you really just wanted to mess with him.

“Now do a 90-degree bow, please,” you laugh, but he throws you a sock and walks back to change while you yell in disgust.

He walks out in a charcoal suit, and he looks every bit of the President that he is. He just walks closer to you and turns around this time, and even you feel a bit intimidated.

“You look too professional and too rich,” you hum. “I like the blue one better, it’ll appeal to the young ones a bit more. Makes you look approachable, too. Can you change into that again and put on a beige or brown trench coat? It might be cold there.”

“Okay,” he says, following your suggestion and coming out with a beige coat.

“Can you remove your contacts and wear your glasses, too?”

“Why?”

“Just going for a certain vibe,” you shrug, and he does as you ask.

Well, you initially thought that his face might be too distracting because of how beautiful it is, but now you think having his glasses on makes him a little too good-looking, but you don’t say that, so you just nod and give him a thumbs up.

“Looks like you’ve found your outfit,” you say.

“Thanks,” he chirps, removing his suit, and you scold him for being too careless so you help him in hanging them properly. “Seri usually helps me with these things.”

“Why didn’t you ask her, then?” You ask, with no bitterness in your voice.

You assumed the same; you even half expected her to be here, given that you’d informed Jin also just this morning that you were going to be home early.

“I’ve just been busier than usual, haven’t had the time to speak with her,” he shrugs, going back to his closet to change.

“Is that normal?” You wonder out loud. “I mean, she’s your girlfriend, right?”

“Uh, yeah. But it’s not a normal relationship, or conventional for that matter.”

“It’s because of me, right?” You pout, something he catches.

“What? No!” He assures you, sitting next to you on the couch. “It’s always been like this, I think I told you that some time ago. It’s kinda just easier to say she’s my girlfriend and leave it at that but when it’s a secret, when I do what I do and don’t have as much time as I want for anything else other than work, that’s what happens,” he explains. “We see each other when I can, we text or call when I can’t. It just always worked like that.”

“You sure?”

“Now I’m the one who gets to tell you that yes, I’m sure; we’ve talked about this,” he adds, saying the line you always tell him. “And like I said, she gets it. I’ll try to see her this week.”

“Yeah, you should. We’re flying to France soon. That’s still 2 weeks without seeing her,” you remind him.

“That’s another thing to stress about,” he huffs, leaning his head against the wall and briefly closing his eyes. “I can’t believe that my dad and grandfather let us take that trip for 2 weeks, but I also can’t believe he let us take that trip for 2 weeks.”

“It’s your grandfather’s birthday a few days before the wedding,” you say. “I mean, isn’t that why Tae and Hyun-a scheduled it then? So it would align with your grandfather’s 85th? Which is great, really. Your entire family would already be there.”

“Yeah, it’s the first time that my sister’s kids are seeing the family home,” he smiles. “That would be fun. And you, too!”

“Well, it’s not like I’m actually part of the family,” you chuckle, looking at the floor and missing the way Seokjin’s face falls a little at the thought. “But it should be nice. I’m probably gonna be a nervous wreck because I haven’t seen your grandparents since the wedding.”

“What about it?”

“I don’t know, they might be expecting something?”

“They don’t really ask me much, actually. Or I kinda just dodge it when they’re heading there,” he laughs. “They just know we get along, and that seems to be enough for them.”

“Ah, well, it shouldn’t be much trouble, I would assume? It’s France, in a lovely house–”

“Chateau, actually,” he corrects, and he laughs at your widened eyes. “Restored, but yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“Okay, then, chateau,” you try to say it elegantly. “It should be fun, and stress-free… right?”

You turn to him for assurance. The hecticness of your last few weeks has blinded you to the reality of the wedding and all the possible things that could go wrong, which, if you think now, could be a lot.

Jin might miss Seri too much, he might slip, and you could both be in hot water. Or you both could act so comfortably, the way you both do anyway, and his family might think that something is indeed happening, and you wouldn’t know what to say, or at least how to say that you’re more platonic housemates than anything, and there’s really no chance of love or even attraction, given that he has a girlfriend and well, you’re not exactly keen on finding love, since the one you want is somewhere else in the world who may or may not want you, too.

But what keeps you hopeful and positive is that it’s Jin. Really, if there’s any rich and handsome man that you were to end up in this unconventional arranged marriage with, you’re glad it’s him. He makes you laugh, he annoys you sometimes, but more than anything, he makes you feel like yourself.

Seokjin sits on the couch of the holding room, legs and arms crossed and eyes closed as he waits for the start of his presentation which is in half an hour.

Donning the blue suit you’d chosen the other day, he takes in the quiet of the space, letting his mind work and relax at the same time. He’s glad you’d insisted that he bring his coat; it’s cold, like you said, and no amount of hot tea can make him warm up. He’s a little nervous, if he’s being honest; he’s human like that.

There’s a soft knock on the door and he instructs the person to come in, his eyes still closed.

“Are you… meditating?”

“___, it’s you,” he says, opening his eyes in surprise, having not heard the door open. “I thought it was Yoongi. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

More like, he didn’t think you would be. He’d voiced out his nervousness, too shy to ask you to come since he knows you’re also busy and well, you’re not exactly required to attend, even as his “wife.”

“Ah, well, I saw your father at the office and he seemed a little disappointed I'm not with you,” you narrate. “I didn’t want to seem like a neglectful partner so I came.”

He hums, not thinking much of your reason for showing up.

“I felt like you’re gonna do well, anyway,” you add, “so I didn’t think you’d need the luck of my presence. But I don’t mind, actually. I’ve seen you deliver presentations so many times and I know I’m gonna learn a thing or 2 from you today,” you say, earning you a faint smile.

You take your seat next to him and nudge his knee. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” he shrugs.

“Really?” You sound surprised. “You’re gonna do great, Jin. We’ve been practicing all week.”

You’re right, you both have. You’ve spent almost every night listening to him vocalize his presentation because that helps his flow. He wants it to sound natural but still practiced; you almost memorize it yourself.

“I have to speak as the President now, and to young people; that holds a lot of responsibility,” he says.

He hasn’t been President long, and he’s been delivering speeches in the past months, but a presentation in front of those who may look up to him as a role model - some have noted that he is - adds so much pressure. And because of that, he’s anxious and he’s glad you’re here before he takes the stage.

“Well, you already look the part. And I know you’re gonna smash it. If all else fails, just give them that brooding look of yours and they’ll just get hypnotized or something,” you comfort.

He laughs at your idea of a last resort and finally smiles.

“Anyway, I’ll only be here for your presentation. I have to head out right away since we have that directors’ meeting,” you say, standing up and he follows.

“Sure, no worries,” he says, removing his trench coat, wrinkling his suit a little because of it.

“Yah, careful.”

You mindlessly fix his collar, your fingers tracing down to fix the hem, too. With your eyes focused on what you’re doing, you don’t notice that his are focused on you, surprised at how you’d acted reflexively and being as close as you are.

You look up and meet his gaze, a millisecond of you getting hypnotized before you snap out of it.

“Sorry,” you chuckle. “You need to look perfect, and well, you do. I’ll see you after, alright?”

He doesn’t get a word in, as you’re turning around right away and heading out the door, questioning yourself why you’d done the wife thing and fixed his suit when you’d usually make him fix it himself. Perhaps the comfort of the last weeks have made it too easy, moving closer like that.

You sigh. It was a momentary slip up, and you wish he hadn’t felt awkward or even creeped out. You decide to act like it didn’t happen and head to your seat in the audience.

Back in the holding room, Seokjin is the one trying to snap out of it. Apart from your wedding where you’d held hands and kissed - for about a millisecond, he recalls - and during social events where he’d have his hand lightly on your back, you two don’t really get close in any way when you’re alone.

Neither of you initiates, and even if what you’d done was a mere tap on his chest, the proximity caught him off guard. And for the briefest moment, he hadn’t minded it at all.

Seokjin does his presentation with ease, exactly how he’d envisioned doing it. He had visual aids to show data and engaged with the audience - asking questions, looking them in the eyes when they responded, and even making jokes.

He’d impressed them, as he hoped, and many times, he found himself glancing at you, who looked just as engaged and impressed as well. You were even trying to discreetly take photos with your phone and he almost laughed at how much of a stage wife you were being.

After he said his ending line - “don’t try to be the next Kim Seokjin, be the next you” - you gave him a thumbs up sign - after rolling your eyes and chuckling, of course - and he knew he did well.

You met him at the conference hall entrance before you left, and he’d made his way back to the holding room to make a few work calls before he went back for a panel session.

He’s on the couch, having just responded to an email, when his phone rings, Seri’s name flashing on the screen. Caught off guard - since it feels so long since he’s spoken to her - he picks up after the third ring.

“Hey,” he says, standing up. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” she replies cheerily. “Am I seeing you at the directors’ meeting later? Your brother will be attending and I was assigned to assist him.”

“I’m in Incheon for a presentation, actually,” Seokjin responds, realizing he’d forgotten to tell her about today. “I asked Taehyung to preside over that meeting since I won’t be there.”

He’s standing by the window now, looking out into the busy street, wondering how she’s doing, and wondering how he’d lost track of the days.

“Oh, that’s why,” she hums after a beat of silence but still sounding jovial. “I can imagine how busy you are. Am I gonna see you soon, though? I mean, I know I saw you this morning but it feels like I haven’t seen your face in so long.”

“I know. It was nice to see you, though,” he responds sincerely.

They’d passed by each other when he entered the building and were in the same elevator. But so was his father and Seokjin couldn’t really say anything, especially as the elder Mr. Kim was talking about the trip to France and how his parents couldn’t wait to welcome you to their holiday home.

“But yeah, I’ll find time. Maybe a nice dinner? We can get whatever you want,” he grins.

“Yes, that would be nice!” She chirps. “Even just to see you, really. I, uh, I miss you, Seokjin.”

It’s the sound of his name that gets to him. It’s how he knows she’s serious; it’s how he knows that’s all she wants.

“I miss you, too. I’ll see you, okay?”

“Okay. You should go now, I don’t want to take up your time.”

“Alright, bye.”

He hangs up and takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling bad, perhaps missing time with her because he’s been spending more time with you. Or is he?

But before he could doubt himself even more, he hears someone hum, and turning around, his heart drops to the ground.

“I didn’t think that you and ___ would fall for each other so soon, darling,” his mother chirps. “Of course, we hoped for it, but now it’s real.”

“Mother, uh, what are you doing here? And uh, how long have you been standing there?” He stutters. Damn that door and how quiet it is.

“Long enough to learn that you and your wife can’t get enough of each other, hmm? I just met her at the entrance after she’d watched your presentation,” She smiles, walking over to fix his collar and the wrinkles on his suit. “Get her that dinner, or better yet, make her dinner. That’s how I knew your father cared about me,” she winks. “And oh, I was at a nearby hotel for a meeting and he reminded me about your presentation today. I caught the second half of it.”

“Right, uh, thanks,” he feigns a smile, loosening his tie now as he feels like he’s suffocating.

“But it’s great to know that you two have become fond of each other,” she says dreamily. “I wasn’t sure how it was going to be because you didn’t seem interested in relationships after you hit 30 and now I’m just glad that you’ve come to like ___, like this marriage really could work out between you two.”

“Yeah, I mean, she’s great and easy to get along with.”

He knows he’s just dug himself a deeper hole, but it’s during these moments when Seokjin is convinced that he is, indeed, stupid. He wishes he had more common sense and could think quicker instead of freezing and letting his mother believe that what you both have has now become real.

“She is. I’ve become fond of her, too.” She fondly tucks his hair behind his ear. “I’m happy for you, Son. You deserve someone who cares about you, and someone you care about, too.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Okay, then. Well, I just wanted to drop by and tell you I’m proud of you,” she smiles again. “And just a bit of advice? Don’t say you’ll find time; you make time, okay honey?”

“Got it, I’ll keep that in mind,” he nods.

One of the event organizers peeps in and calls for Seokjin, as the panel discussion is about to start. He says he’ll be back out, sending you a text first to meet him in his office so you could go home together.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “What are you gonna do now, Seokjin? You’re about to mess everything up.”

You walk towards Jin’s office as he’d asked you to do earlier in the afternoon, a spring in your step as the directors’ meeting that you thought was going to be a tough one turned out to be better than expected.

Taehyung presided over it and was a lot more jovial, a stark contrast to his older brother, your husband. You got things done, at least, agreeing on certain policies and immediate action points, with a few laughs in between. It’s how Taehyung’s always been, anyway.

“You’re deep in thought,” you hum, as you open the door. You’ve reached that level of no more needing to have Yoongi let you enter; you just knock and are allowed to go in as you please. “That chair could burn with how badly you’re staring at it.”

You look like you’re in a good mood, and he hates that he has to ruin it.

“We’re kind of in trouble, and it’s all my fault,” he looks at you apologetically. “I’m sorry, ___.”

“Hey, what are you saying?” you ask worriedly, walking towards him and nudging him to look at you. “Talk to me.”

So he tells you everything - the phone call, his mother overhearing, and then the text she’d just sent that your parents have booked you a few nights’ stay at a resort in Saint-Tropez during your trip to France as their honeymoon gift, among others.

“That’s uh, a lot to process,” you huff, feeling the spacious room suddenly get hot. “How are we— I mean, uh, I’d tell you to say you weren’t talking to me because we’re not romantically involved but like, who would you say you were talking to?”

“Exactly, it was too sweet to be a friend and I don’t even have friends,” he sighs. “I’m so stupid. I should’ve been more careful about taking her calls when I’m not at home or here in my office. And that fucking door, I swear it was—”

“Hey, just think… at least you didn’t say her name,” you comfort. “This is all terrible but I mean, it’s not the worst.”

You look at each other, mirroring each other’s pouts, and if it wasn’t a stressful moment, you’d laugh at each other’s faces.

“It’s just—”

“Hyung!” Taehyung’s voice echoes in the room, momentarily breaking the slight tension between you and Jin.

“Yah! What did I say about knocking?” Jin scowls.

“I did,” his brother argues.

“You didn’t,” Jin counters.

“Yeah, you’re right, I didn’t,” he smiles sweetly, one you’ve come to know as his boxy grin that’s all types of charming and screams I can get away with anything, and he does. “I was gonna ask for your advice on the bar food for the after party of the celebration here. But you two look like your world’s ending so my question can wait.”

Taehyung stands in between you and Jin, his eyes shifting between you and his brother. “Is this your first couple fight? How can I help?”

“No,” Jin growls, and you’ve never really seen him this frustrated.

But he narrates the story to his brother, the way he did with you, not missing or changing any detail. A short beat of silence follows, until Taehyung speaks out.

“Uh, just pretend to actually be in a loving marriage, then,” he says so casually, like it’s the most normal and obvious thing in the world. “I mean, you at least like each other as people, so no need to pretend about that. Just, up the romance thing, alright? And the sexual, too,” he winks.

“Tae, you know I have a girlfriend,”Jin says too fast yet somehow, too unsure.

“Whom you decided to still keep even when you agreed to this marriage,” the younger man points out. “And you may both act like he didn’t have a choice but he always does, and he chose you,” he turns to you. “But he also chose her.”

You feel like this isn’t the kind of conversation you should be present for, but Jin’s dejected face makes you want to comfort him. It’s your fault, too, somehow. You enabled him, in a way, by letting him stay with Seri. This is the only time you ever doubted your decision, always thinking that you were doing the right and sound thing.

“Look, I hate to be the selfish one, but I’m getting married in a few weeks,” Taehyung continues at your silence. “Sorry to be insensitive but Hyun-a is the woman of my dreams, and I would love for our wedding to be a happy event, with the most important people to us present, celebrating with us. Whether you both come out with the truth or cover it up, it’s up to you, but I hope you choose the one that doesn’t impact my wedding negatively. I… I would really appreciate that.”

He’s right, and though you don’t feel like you’re in the position to say something, you shoot him a smile, knowing that for someone as in love as he is, you know he’d want his wedding to be perfect. There’s no place for any of your and Jin’s drama on this trip.

“I don’t want Seri to feel—”

“I’ll talk to her,” Seokjin cuts you. “I’ll try to make her understand.”

He looks at you apologetically, but you look at him with assurance. You know more than anything that he wants his brother’s special day to be as beautiful as it could be.

“So, uh, that’s the plan, right?” Taehyung looks at you then at his brother again. “Pretend to be in a relationship with your spouse?”

It sounds silly, silly enough for you and Jin to laugh and shake your heads at the same time.

“I guess it is,” he breaks the silence.”

“It is,” you say. “But hey, at least we’ll be in France.”

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat @mwitsmejk @fan-ati--c @cravingforhotchocolate @adoraminie @helenazbmrskai @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @preciouschimine @gukssunshine @nch327 @petalsofink @shatzkrinslinzki @kookxin @petuliii @yoursthv @libra04 @fancycollectormoon @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g @bids97 @minyoongiboongi @main-bangtansmauyeondan

Series Taglist: @iwishselena @neverthefirstchoice @cuteipat @jungoomoles @yoontaethings @scuzmunkie @aerastus

#seokjin fic #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin series #arranged marriage au #boss au #the light of dead stars

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mara-xx217 · 3 years ago

Note

They get away with it for quite a few matches out of sheer luck until one match they're getting chased and the survivors use the distraction to leave without them and they get caught. How would maybe Pyramid Head, Trickster and/or The Doctor get revenge? >:3c [2/2]

Okay, this is gonna be EXTRA long, so enjoy!~

Part One

The Brat Gets Broken

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Humiliation, Degradation, Spanking, Beatings, Monster Biology 🌚

Everyone had had enough. The survivors, the killers, hell, the Entity, herself, was beginning to get annoyed with your shenanigans. Unbeknownst to you, your teammates had already decided to each bring a key so that, the moment the hatch becomes available, they all could leave your ass to the killers. It was something that left a bad taste in their mouths, but at the same time... Seeing you nearly bring a few of the killers to tears with how cruel you were to them really pissed them off. You deserved whatever horrible shit that they threw at you, and there was no way in hell that any of them would hang around and defend you when you've been so shit to work with.

And, to the killers' credit, they didn't attempt to stop the survivors from leaving the trial early, either. On top of that, the Entity seemed to grant them some mercy and even allowed the hatch to spawn much, much earlier than it normally would, and far, far away from your sorry ass. To have you all to themselves, no distractions and no trial to worry about... It was a killer's dream, and it was going to be your worst nightmare.

...You done fucked up.

Something was clearly wrong, but it took you far too long to realize it until it was far too late. One gen was completed, and yet... there was no one here... Was it a joke?

Yeah, it was one big fucking joke, but it wasn't the kind where you'd be the one coming out on top. No, you hadn't been playing by the rules, and for that, you needed to be punished. And you'd be punished by the killers that you had tormented the most in recent trials.

Herman Carter/The Doctor

You knew you were in trouble, but you didn't realize just how deep in the shit you were in until you realized that the Doctor was using Lightborn.

And, not only that, but you were the only survivor left in the trial, and the Entity had no intentions on giving you a way out until your debt has been paid in full.

Not knowing any tricks to actually avoid trouble, given your toxic relationship with the other survivors, you were mercilessly chased around the Lery. You did try chucking the flashlight at the killer, but it missed him completely, shattering a nearby window and letting even more cold air into the already freezing building.

If the Doctor was pissed before, he's fucking enraged, now. There was something about how you refused to accept defeat, how you refused to accept any responsibility for you actions that drove him over the edge into a frenzy that Herman hasn't felt in, well, in an entire lifetime.

You were completely helpless, and that terrified you. How are you going to get out of this situation...? Charm your way out? No, that's fucking stupid. Go out fighting? With what? You didn't know all the little tricks the others did.

...Fuck.

You were cornered. Trapped, not unlike a rat in a tiny, little maze, with its crazed master glowering down at it with all the contempt and disgust he could possibly muster. The fact that he didn't just- rush in and beat you to death instantly scared the shit out of you, and you genuinely didn't know what he was planning. But since this was Herman Carter, the Doctor, that you were talking about, you just knew it would be a painful, and humiliating, end for you in the near future.

For several long, painstakingly quiet minutes, the two of you had a staring contest. Unsurprisingly, you were the first to look away, unable to maintain eye contact with the expressionless killer for more than a few seconds at a time. But the Doctor? He stared until your stomach twisted itself into knots and your knees felt weak. You were barely eye level with his collarbone, and you knew, for a fact, that he could pick you up with one hand and do... whatever he wanted to you, and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it. Just as the silence was becoming too much to bear, he lunged at you.

You should have known better than to try and fight back, but you did anyways. With shocking ease, you're manhandled roughly, and you lose track of where it is you are looking. Up? Down? You don't know and you don't care. Flailing only pisses him off further, and you release a high-pitched scream as you are gripped by the base of your neck and shocked relentlessly. Just before any serious damage is done, it stops, and you go limp as you struggle for air. As your eyes refocus onto the ground, you feel something hard pressing into your gut. W-Wha-? Before you had the mind to start kicking, you felt fingers crudely grip the waistband of your pants and your rear become exposed to the frigid air of the Institution.

"S-Sto-! What are- OW!"

You released an undignified squeak as a large hand made contact with your bare ass. Blood rushed to your head as the realization hits you, along with yet another harsh slap to your ass. You’re being spanked like some sort of a bratty fucking child.

Tears of humiliation stream down your face as hit after hit landed on your ass, until you were squirming and squealing in pain. Though, underneath it all, there was a sickening heat that was spreading though your loins. And just when the sting on your ass was becoming unbearable-

ZAP!

You screamed so loud you lost your voice. And then it happened again. And again. And again. And a-fucking-gain…! With each new slap, you are violently shocked. And with each new shock, you come closer and closer to losing all control of your bodily functions. Just as suddenly as it escalated, it stopped all together.

No. No way… You shouldn’t move- You can’t move. Unable to feel your legs, hell, your whole body, you simply hold your breath to the best of your ability, trying your hardest to prepare for… whatever was about to happen next. You’re gonna die. You’re gonna fucking die. You’re gonna f-fucking die-

ZAAAP!

No sound escaped your throat, only a strangled gag as you choked on your own broken sobs. What little air is knocked out of you as you are carelessly dropped to the ground with a dull thud. You can’t see, you can’t feel, you can’t think, you can’t breathe… it’s no wonder that you didn’t notice the distinct sound of a belt being undone, nor feel those large, warm hands spread your cheeks wide open-

The Trickster

Not only did he have Lightborn, but he also had Enduring, as well. Shit. Pallets and flashlights aren't going to save you now, and since there's no one here to guide the killer too... You're fucked.

Mount Ormond was always a pain in the ass to be sent to, and right now, you wished you were anywhere else but there, with any other killer but him. You knew what he did before he was claimed by the Fog, and you knew that you'd have a messy end for all the shit that you pulled on him.

There wasn't the usual glee written clearly on his face as he chased you down. No bubbly laughs, no manic mummering, either. Ji-Woon was fucking furious, and this was strictly business, though it wasn't like he couldn't make his own fun out of the situation.

Especially when you're so helpless against him this time...

The first hit shattered one of your knees. Normally, the sound of such an exquisite scream would send the Trickster over the edge into a feral frenzy, but no, not this time. Not when it was you that was screaming. It would be a lie to say that he didn't get a thrill out of hearing such an ear-piercing sound being emitted from such a fucking bitch of a survivor.

There was language barrier present, but he didn't need to speak your language to know that you were damning him to your last breath. Good. You still have some fight in you. This will be fun. Taking a few steps back, he hums thoughtfully to himself as you struggle to your feet, face drenched in sweat and tears. Are you really worthy of a proper performance...? The Trickster circles you, eyeing you from head to toe. When you attempt to spit in his general direction, you've unknowingly made the decision for him.

CRACK!

You wail in agony and fall onto your side as your other leg was smashed out from underneath you. You weren't worth the bloodstains that were soaking into his favorite jacket. The killer sneered down at your crumpled up form. Simply pathetic... It was disgusting that you were so fragile... especially after being such a righteous pain in his ass. So, you can torment others, and not take similar treatment in return? Absolutely despicable... If there was one thing that Ji-Woon fucking hated was a two-faced bitch that thinks she's better than he is.

The Trickster wasn't even going to waste his knives on you, nor anymore of his time. You wanted his fucking attention? You wanted to be somebody in his eyes? Too fucking bad. You were nothing, and he would beat that into your skull until there was nothing left but a pulpy mess for the Entity to clean up. The sting from not being worth the typical mori hurt you more than you thought possible, and from then on, you should expect such calloused treatment from the K-Pop star. He's dealt with his fair share of entitled brats, and you are, by far, the worst he's ever delt with.

The Executioner/Pyramid Head

It's his duty to punish the wicked, and by God, he's punished the worst of the worst. You may not have murdered anyone in the reality that most share with one another, but your actions here, in the Fog, prove it was only a matter of time before you did something atrocious.

Your sins are woven into your soul, and the Executioner can read it as plainly as the colourful markings of a poisonous creature; you were something that needed to be punished, that needed to be humbled. You have become complacent in your torment of others, and that will not stand any longer.

There was no fighting back, not when you stand accused of being such a heinous person in the face of a demon conjured up from the inane desire for punishment. And that punishment comes in many, many forms. Pain, Humiliation, Brutalization, Dehumanization, Death. But, for the wicked, death isn't an escape. No, death is too liberating for such filth.

He isn't angry with you for what you have done to him. The Executioner can take as well as he can give, and he's more disappointed in himself for being caught so unawares as he did that time in the bathroom. No, he isn't punishing you for that, but for what you had done to your fellow survivors?

You don't have a shred of common decency, and it's no wonder that your fellow man had left you, alone and ill prepared in the lion's den. And unfortunately for you? All bets were off. Even the Entity, herself, wouldn't be able to stop him from completing his solemn duty.

So tiny and weak... You flailed hopelessly in his grasp, kicking and scratching to no avail. Your heartbeat fluttered stubbornly against the inside of the Executioner's calloused fingers, causing a familiar feeling of giddy pleasure to surge from somewhere deep inside of him. Even here, in this mockery of Silent Hill, he could still feel his purpose clear and sharp. Punish the wicked...

To your disgust, a thick, slimy appendage wormed its way out from a crack in the Executioner's helm, licking a long stripe from your collarbone all the way to your hairline. Oh, yes... You know what you've done is wrong, and yet you did it anyways. The more you squirmed in his grasp, the more excited he became. It was always a treat when they put on airs like they weren't in the wrong...

Where to start? It was troublesome to decide how to break you, but he ultimately settled on starting somewhere rather... simple. You were lifted into the air by your throat and slammed onto the nearest flat surface. With the wind knocked out of you, there was no room for you to resist as your pants were torn off with relative ease. There wasn't any room for foreplay, and he certainly wasn't going to allow you the chance to enjoy yourself, either.

The pain was unlike anything you have ever experienced here in the Fog, and unlike anything you'd ever experience ever again. Between being ripped in half, and the rotting tongue that was violating your throat, it was a genuine surprise that you lived for as long as you did. Maybe the Entity truly changed the survivors to be more... durable for her killers. Maybe it was the old magics of Silent Hill that still lingered in the old school building. Regardless of the reasoning, you lasted far longer than you had any right to, and you felt every little bit of the Executioner's foul seed seep into your core before something deep inside of you was torn asunder.

You'd feel that ache forever more. It would never leave you, just as the watchful eyes of the Executioner would never wander too far from your own. Have you learned your lesson? Will you continue your reign of terror? Not on his watch. You'll be devoured from the inside out before it gets to that point, whether you realize it or not.

@prettycutebunny

@gore-loving-whore

@kennbb

@cherrysodalite

@dead-bxtch-walking

@space-arsonist

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd the doctor #dbd the trickster #pyramid head #dbd the doctor x reader #dbd the trickster x reader #pyramid head x reader #ask response #I have an obsession with PH's tongue #I'm not sorry

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reuinx · 4 years ago

Text

Home (Yelena Belova x Reader)

Summary: You reunite with your girlfriend, Yelena Belova, as she’s been missing months after discovering Natashas death after the Blip.

Word Count: 2,171

Paring: Yelena Belova x Reader

Translations: Malishka (Baby), Prekrasnaya Devochka (Lovely Girl)

Masterlist

Every morning, you got up beside the beautiful blonde who always looked at you with her piercing green eyes, observing every move as if you were so delicate that you could break. It was as if she blinked; you would vanish, just like that. Yelena always kept a formidable front to protect herself, but with you, she was like a flower in the morning sun. Nothing ever beats waking up with the one you love. Until they are gone, that is. Nothing extraordinary had taken place that day to make her leave, or at least nothing you could imagine. You had been counting the days since she left.

You thought about her all the time in your spare time. That was until one day, they merged into one, and everything was beginning to become a blur. Once you stopped counting, you stopped counting forever. Friends and family stopped asking about her, so that helped. It was easier to pretend Yelena didn't exist than to miss her. Despite everything you do, though, reality eventually sets in, and you feel hollow again. Where was she? Was she okay? Who was she with? Did she ever think of you? The same questions would remain unanswered.

To avoid staying in the shared apartment, you filled your day with anything and everything you could think of. The moment night fell, you had no choice but to return home. After so long, the apartment no longer smelled like her. It was like she was a ghost. You began forcing yourself to sleep at night and continued the same process every day. You were running late tonight; you should have been grateful for that, but the rain had soaked you on the way home. Your umbrella decided that it was no match for the wind and miserably gave up with little to no effort. That is what you get for buying a cheap one.

After reaching the apartment complex, you checked to see if you had any mail. You didn't. With your last bit of energy, you climbed the stairs to your apartment. The neighbors weren't fighting for once, which was a pleasant surprise. When you got to the door, you unlocked it and stepped into the vacant apartment, closing the door behind you. Something was wrong. Somebody was here. You could feel it in your gut. The darkness held a watchful eye over you. It was too late to turn around and unlock the door again. The light was flicked on to reveal the unwelcome guest. Yelena.

Your first thought was that it was someone else until you met her green eyes. You knew her eyes from anywhere. My Yelena. Although you had been thinking about this moment for months, seeing her in person left you speechless. She was drenched from the rain but still utterly gorgeous. In the past, she always stood tall radiating confidence, but not now. Her posture was slumped and tense. The t-shirt she was wearing had tiny flecks of red on it. You weren't sure if it was blood, but then you noticed that her nails were chipped. She had been picking at the varnish again. The only time she ever did that was when something bothered her.

"And here's me thinking you'd be happy to see me. Do you want me to leave and come back? She finally broke the lingering silence between you both. There is a growing distance between you two. The instinct to approach her struck you suddenly; she wasn't moving. Standing motionless, her eyes were fixed on what you were doing.

"I was expecting this," She added.

"Expecting this? Expecting what? Huh? You vanish for..? I don't know, four months? Five months-"

"It was seven," Yelena clarified.

"You aren't helping!"

"I can explain, I promise. Just give me a chance-" She pleaded with you, but you quickly cut her off from giving you an explanation.

"You just left. I didn't know if you were okay or worse, dead. You did that to me without a second thought, Yelena. You expect me to be okay with you? If it was the other way around, would you be okay with that?" You expressed with your hands, animating every word that passed your lips—waving in front of you as you grew passionate.

"I love when you do that. Talk with your hands" Yelena mimicked your gestures with her own hands before studying your expression. Despite her best intentions, she wasn't succeeding in making light of the situation. When she couldn't make you laugh, she knew something was seriously wrong.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Trying to avoid the conversation, Yelena."

"God, don't call me that. It makes you sound like my mother."

"What's the point of talking to you? You attempted to walk past her in the hallway as you snapped out, "It was easier talking to you when you weren't here." Although you wanted to step out of the situation for a moment, you couldn't.

"Malishka, don't be like that," Yelena commanded rather than asked. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't get away from the situation. Yelena stood before you now.

"I could slap you right now."

"Slap me then," She protested as she leaned in inches from your face, her eyebrows raised at you in a taunt. She wanted a reaction from you. Finally, you broke. As tears filled your eyes, you felt the need to blink. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't stop yourself from crying. Sobbing was a common sight for you. It is the ones you love the most that always hurt the worst.

"I hate you," You managed to spit out. Yelena leaned in with her warm breath lingering against your lips as she spoke.

"You don't hate me; you hate that I left." It felt like she wasn't saying that to you but rather to herself. As you leaned closer to her, you could still see the raindrops clinging to the loose strands of her hair. Despite Yelena's best efforts to keep the argument from escalating, something was wrong. It was apparent to you. While she argued, she often had a playful glint in her eyes and a half-smile that followed shortly after that. Her eyes appeared expressionless and empty.

The feeling was like looking into the mirror to see how you were when she left. What had happened to her? She moved away from you towards the coach as she plopped down. She was utterly defeated. Yelena's eyes had been fixed on her nails, and she refused to look at you. You knew when to continue arguing and now was not that time. It wasn't your desire to fight anymore but to get answers. Your only priority was to make sure the girl you loved was okay. Yelena needed you, and you needed her.

Approaching her cautiously, your voice was beginning to adopt a soft tone in hopes of easing her. "Hey, hey you." You called out as you squatted down in front of her and brought yourself as close as possible.

"Look at me" You reached over to carefully begin to skim your fingers among her rings that decorated her hands. After finally allowing the words to escape your lips, you carefully started to skim your fingers over the rings that adorned her hands. It was finally her turn to lift her eyes from her nails. The sadness filling her eyes caused her eyes to droop.

"What's happened, Yelena? You know you can tell me anything. All you have to do is talk, baby. Was it something I did? Why did you even come back?" You managed to say past your quivering lips finally. You had reached the point of anger where it boiled over, and now you feel defeated. Breaking down in front of Yelena is something you hate, but it's too late since crying was something you could not avoid tonight.

"I hate when you cry, my prekrasnaya devochka.” Yelena whispered in response with her hands carefully tapping on your shoulder blades. Her body language indicated that you should get up, and you did so without question. Her hands grasped your hips as she pulled you down onto her lap without ease. Her palms rested perfectly on either cheek was a pleasure to feel. She traced her thumbs carefully over the tears marks you left behind. Gentleness was evident in her touch. Her eyes carefully examined your lips. Yelena's presence had always been missed, but you hadn't realized how much you missed her touch. Within her touch, you had finally calmed down with ease. You knew she was in complete control over you, so it was unbelievable to admit that. She assured your safety.

"Why did I even come back?" Her response was as sharp and vicious as if she was shooting a dagger at you. Suddenly, her eyes bolted up from your lips and held your eyes in a burning gaze. Slowly, her lips twitched into a smile that almost seemed bitter. She smiled for the first time since you lost her. The butterflies you used to feel weren't there; they were replaced with something else... Worry.

"I- Well," Yelena stuttered out with her hands slowly dropping from your cheeks. It was unlike Yelena to fall over her words. Even with her witty comments, she was always so calculated. The time had come for her to explain herself finally. Would she? Would she give you an honest answer or avoid confrontation? What was she hiding from you?

"Hey, hey. It's okay, I've got you" You tried to reassure her, but your attempts were unsuccessful. Suddenly, her eyes appeared to be made of glass. The reflection of her tears being evident from her green eyes. It was unlike her to cry. She leaned back into the couch with her face beginning to scrunch up like a little kid. Her cheeks were starting to flush a crimson as she tried to hold herself together. Her body tensed underneath you before you felt it release after fighting so hard to contain the sadness.

Your arms were open to her as you took her in. If Yelena Belova didn't want you to do something, she would make sure you knew it. She cried bitterly into your shoulder. Instead of saying or doing anything, you held her for the first time.

"It's my sister." Yelena was broken to the core. In front of you, crumbling away. It took you a while to realize that the name was familiar to you.

"Natalia? Your sister? The um- The part-time Science teacher, right?" Yelena released a weak laugh at the story she had you believe. She wasn't doing it despite you but to protect you. You were kept in the dark about a lot of things by her. There were some things better left untouched. Yelena's past makes this more complicated.

"She..um.. she- she's just gone. I didn't know until that morning. The Blip happened, and we were gone; she was still here all this time. Probably on her own. Where was I? She was dead before I even came fucking back. Just rotting in the ground. She was just left there. I couldn't just leave her there on her own, but-“Yelena’s voice was trembling as she spoke every single word. The moment you had the chance to look at her, she revealed that she was completely vulnerable. This was not what you expected to be the reason for her absence, not even close. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss on her forehead to comfort her, mumbling against her.

“I didn’t believe it at first, but then it became real and well… Here I am. Crying like a child Infront of you, it’s pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic. Your sister died, Yelena. Why would you even think that’s pathetic?”

“It just is.”

“It’s not.”

"Mhm. I thought going out there to see it for myself was the only thing that was going to help. Give me that feeling of home again.”

“Well… Did it?”

“No. No matter where I went, nowhere felt like home to me. I..I have never felt more at home than here, with you. I hope I haven't fucked this up, have I? I can't fuck up anything else. I wasn’t taking this for granted, I swear. It wasn't until you came in with that stupid.. stupid umbrella that I felt at home again. I felt like everything is going to be okay for the first time in months. I just- I want you.. I needed you. The thought of you never left my mind, I swear. The only thing I wanted was to come home. My home has always been with you. Being away from you killed me, it kills me. I love you, I always have. I just-"While she struggled to get her words out, you sat silently. Rather than interrupting her, you wished to give her a chance.

"I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. You're home now, I'm here. I've got you. You’re safe."

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova requests open #marvel imagine #yelena belova fluff #yelena belova angst #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova/reader #yelena belova imagine #marvel x belova #my writing #requests open

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translations-by-aiimee · 4 years ago

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 30

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 30 - This Venerable One Doesn't Want to Eat Tofu

"Hey, hey, did you hear? Elder Yuheng violated the sect rules. As punishment, he has to kneel in Yanluo Hall for three days."

In the morning class the next day, the disciples gathered on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to practice and meditate. In the end, they are all teenagers and 20-year-olds, and they couldn't just do as they were told. If a master wasn't paying attention, they'll start whispering and gossiping.

The news that Chu Wanning had been punished quickly spread.

The disciples who witnessed the beating yesterday were not shy about sharing the gossip with others.

"Wow, why are you guys finding out about it so late? Oh . . . So yesterday Elder Lucun took you up the mountain to collect night dew flowers? Well then - you guys really missed out on a lot! Yesterday evening, in the Qingtian Temple, there was flesh and blood flying everywhere. It was horrible. Elder Yuheng was beaten with more than two hundred strikes! More than two hundred strikes! Not a single one missed! There was no mercy!"

The disciple made a particularly exaggerated expression every time he said a new sentence. No need to mention the show he was putting on for all his junior brothers and sisters surrounding him.

"Do you actually count all two hundred strikes? Even a big man could be killed, not to mention Elder Yuheng. He couldn't stand it and passed out. This made our young master mad. He rushed in and fought with Elder Jielu. He said not to lay another finger on Elder Yuheng. Ah, that scene—"

His facial features were wrinkled up like a steamed bun. He squeezed his eyebrows. Finally, he stretched out a finger, swaying from side to side, and summed it up in three words:

"Tsk tsk task."

Immediately, a younger sister disciple paled: "What! Elder Yuheng fainted?"

"Young Master and Elder Jielu got into a fight?"

"It's no wonder I didn't see Elder Yuheng in this morning class . . . so pitiful . . . what crime did he commit?"

"I heard that he beat a civilian in a fit of rage."

". . ."

Such gossips drifted into Xue Meng's ears from time to time. Life-Death Peak's young master had completely inherited his shizun's temper, so he was very irritable. It was unfortunate that more than one person was gossiping about this. There were groups all over the Platform of Righteousness and Evil, all muttering "Elder Yuheng was punished" and so on. It made him feel so irritated, but there was nothing he could do.

In one corner was Xue Meng, veins bulging on his forehead, and in the other was Mo Ran, unable to stop yawning.

Xue Meng couldn't direct his anger anywhere else, so he viciously spat at Mo Ran: "The plan of the day relies on the morning. You dog, you're so lazy in the morning! What has Shizun been teaching you?"

"Huh?" Mo Ran said with sleepy eyes followed by another big yawn. "Xue Meng, that's enough. I can handle Shizun's lecturing. Who do you think you are? I'm your cousin. Behave yourself when you talk with your cousin. Don't be so rude."

Xue Meng said fiercely: "My cousin is a dog. Be whatever you want to be!"

Mo Ran laughed: "You're so mean. If you don't look out for your elder sect brother, think about how disappointed Shizun will be once he finds out."

"You still have the audacity to mention Shizun! Let me ask you, when he went to the Court of Discipline yesterday, why didn't you stop him?"

"MengMeng, he's a shizun. Yuheng of the Evening Sky, Beidou Immortal. What did you want me to do?"

Xue Meng was furious. He drew his sword, his sharp eyebrows furrowed angrily: "What the hell did you call me?!!!"

Mo Ran's grin stretched from ear to ear: "Be good, MengMeng. Sit down."

Xue Meng bellowed: "Mo Weiyu, I'll kill you!!"

Shi Mei was caught between the two, listening to their daily bickering. He couldn't help sighing. He silently held the edge of his forehead, trying to concentrate on reading his book: "The sun and the moon are poured in the pot* when the spiritual core is first formed. The way of heaven cannot be interpreted, and life and death are involved in the process. . ."

*(T/N: 日月壶中灌 - referring to the Daoist practice of leisurely inactiveness)

Three days passed in the blink of an eye and Chu Wanning's period of reflection came to an end.

According to the rules, the next thing he had to face was a three-month grounding period. During this period of time, he could not leave Life-Death Peak and needed to go to Mengpo Hall to do miscellaneous chores, clean the corridor pillars of Naihe Bridge, sweep the steps in front of the mountain gate, and so on.

Elder Jielu was anxious: "Elder Yuheng, to be honest, I don't think you should do these things. You are the best shizun of your generation. Doing this kind of dishwashing and floor cleaning . . . it feels wrong." He trailed off, leaving half the sentence unsaid --

The main reason is that the old man doubts whether you can even sweep floors, cook and wash clothes!

Chu Wanning didn't doubt himself at all and went to report to Mengpo Hall in an orderly manner.

All of Mengpo Hall, from the chief steward to the servant, was shocked to hear that Chu Waning was coming to do hard labour. They were terrified, as if they were approaching the enemy.

Chu Wanning, dressed in white, arrived in a flutter.

His handsome face was cold and calm, completely expressionless. If you added an auspicious cloud under his feet and a whisk between his arms, he would've looked like the picture-perfect immortal.

Manager Meng Potang felt very ashamed and uneasy. He was actually supposed to make such a beautiful man wash vegetables and cook.

Chu Wanning didn't have the self-image of being a beautiful man. He stepped into the kitchen and coldly swept his gaze over the crowd, who couldn't help but take a step back.

". . ." Chu Wanning was straightforward. "What should I do?"

The chief steward coyly pinched the edge of his hem and thought about what he should say. He cautiously went with: "How does this elder feel about washing vegetables?"

Chu Wanning said: "Okay."

The chief steward was greatly relieved. He originally thought that Chu Wanning led a very pampered life. He might be reluctant to do this kind of labour, however, all the other jobs were either dirty and tiring or required some skill. He was worried that Chu Wanning wouldn't be able to do a good job. Since Chu Wanning easily agreed to wash the vegetables, he didn't need to worry about it.

As it turns out, the chief steward was really naive.

There was a clear stream in front of Mengpo Hall. Chu Wanning went to the stream with a basket of green vegetables. He rolled up his sleeves and began to wash the vegetables.

This area is under the jurisdiction of Elder Xuanji. Occasionally a disciple of the Xuanji sect passed by. He saw Chu Wanning actually washing vegetables and was so scared that he couldn’t even get a word out. He rubbed his eyes three or four times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He said in astonishment: "Elder Yu-Yuheng -- good-good morning."

Chu Wanning raised his eyes: "Good morning."

Elder Xuanji's disciples shivered and fled.

". . ."

Chu Wanning didn't bother to talk with them and continued with his business. He broke the leaves, washed them, and threw them back into the basket.

He washed them very carefully. He broke each vegetable leaf apart, repeatedly brushing them thoroughly. The consequence of that was -- come noon, the basket of vegetables still hadn't been washed.

The man waiting in the dining room was anxious, pacing around in circles: "What should we do? Why hasn't the elder come back yet? If he doesn't come back with the vegetables, how are we going to make the stir-fried beef and vegetables?"

The chief steward looked at the sun and said: "Forget it. Hurry, let's replace it with braised beef."

So, when Chu Wanning returned, Mengpo Hall had already served the beef. The stew was so crispy and flavourful that there was no need for vegetables at all. Chu Wanning frowned. He held his vegetables, rather unhappily, and coldly asked: "If you didn't want the vegetables, why did you make me wash them?"

The chief steward's hairs stood on end. He wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his handkerchief and said something that he regretted: "That's not it. I was thinking you could make a pot of stewed tofu with vegetables?"

Chu Wanning had no expression. Still holding his vegetables, he tilted his head and pondered silently: ". . ."

The chief steward hurriedly said: "If you don't want to, that's alright--"

He hadn't even finished speaking before Chu Wanning asked: "Where is the tofu?"

Chief Steward: ". . ."

"Elder Yuheng, do you . . . know how to cook?"

Chu Wanning said: "I'm not completely ignorant. I'll give it a try."

At noon that day, all the disciples happily entered Mengpo Hall as usual in groups, looking for somewhere to sit. Then, they headed to the counter to get their food served.

There was no shortage of food on Life-Death Peak. The food had always been plentiful and today was no exception.

The braised beef was fatty and lean, the fish shreds were vibrant and rich, the farmhouse pork was golden and crispy, and the chopped pepper fish was red and tempting. The disciples rushed to grab their favourite foods, lining up around the hall, asking the chef to add a spoonful of sweet and sour pork ribs to them, pour some marinade on the rice, or add some spicy sauce.

The ones who always made it to the front of the line first were Elder Lucun's disciples. The little guy at the head of the line had a big pimple on his nose. All he had on his mind was some Mapo Tofu. He skillfully carried the wooden tray to the last counter without raising his eyes and said: "Shizun, I'd like a bowl of tofu."

The shizun, with pale, slender fingers, handed him a plate full of tofu.

However, it wasn't the Mapo Tofu he was familiar with. Instead, it was a plate of strange food with a charred black colour and indistinguishable ingredients.

The disciple was surprised: "What is that?"

"Tofu boiled with bok choy."

Mengpo Hall was full of people, so the disciple didn't pay attention to answering the other person's voice. He said angrily: "Are you an alchemist? Can you even call this tofu with vegetables? I don't want it. Take it back!"

While cursing, he glared at the shizun there. As a result, when he saw the person standing behind the counter, the disciple screamed in fright and almost knocked the tray over.

"Elder Yu-Yuheng!"

"Hmm."

The disciple was on the verge of tears: "No, that's not what I - I didn't mean that just now. I. . ."

"Since you're not eating it, I'll take it back." Chu Wanning said blankly, "Don't waste it."

The disciple stiffly picked up the plate, handed it to Chu Wanning then left with his tail between his legs.

In a short while, everyone knew that Elder Yuheng was standing at the last counter, so the originally lively Mengpo Hall was suddenly silent.

The disciples lined up like a pack of puppies, and they hurriedly grabbed their food, panicked. They went up to the last counter respectfully, greeted the elder, and stumbled away.

"Hello, Elder Yuheng."

"Mmm."

"Good day, Elder Yuheng."

"Good day."

"Elder Yuheng has worked really hard."

". . ."

The disciples were very disciplined and were acting with an abundance of caution, so Chu Wanning accepted the tense greetings from each disciple, but no one dared try his pot of boiled tofu with green vegetables.

Slowly, the line was getting shorter and the food in front of other shizuns was almost gone. Only Chu Wanning still had a pot full of food. The pot of vegetables was completely cold and untouched.

Chu Wanning's face didn't waver, but his heart was conflicted. He had washed them all morning. . .

At that point, his three disciples showed up. Xue Meng was still in silver-blue light armour, refreshing getup. He bounced over with excitement: "Shizun! How are you? Does your wound hurt?"

Chu Wanning was very calm: "It doesn't hurt."

Xue Meng: "Well, that's good."

Chu Wanning glanced at him and suddenly asked: "Do you eat tofu?"

Xue Meng: ". . ."

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei novel #danmei #mo ran #chu wanning #ranwan

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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daddy issues - chapter xv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this is 3.2k of unedited drama and I am so fucking proud of it. I wrote this entire thing today, and it’s easily one of the pieces I’m most proud of. So I haven’t been able to fit a proper conversation between the reader and Harlan - I couldn’t make the scene justified if his presence was there, since he does seem to be the one thing that keeps the family on the line - but that means I had some ideas of how I can make up for it in the future! Extra chapter? Perhaps. We are approaching the end though. I only have two more chapter planned for this fic and an epilogue. We’ll see how that goes!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Hey!” I got into the car excited to see him again, but I tried to reason with myself that it was all because of his visit to his grandfather’s publishing company, of course. I wanted to know how that went and I was curious as to what Harlan’s plans were, that was mostly it.

The fact that I had genuinely missed the man by my side after spending just four hours away from him had very little to do with it, or so I tried to tell myself. I didn’t know how to deal with depending so much on someone yet.

But I was trying to.

Ransom’s silence alerted me that something was different. I stopped trying to fix myself to look to the side and find him staring out the window, face expressionless and eyes void of any sentiment.

“Ransom, what’s wrong?” Reaching over, I squeezed his thigh to get his attention, and he jerked as if he was genuinely surprise by my presence in the small vehicle. “You look stressed,” I clarified, eyebrows furrowed in worry as I reached over to push away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place.

He just stared at me for a while and still I couldn’t read what he was thinking. Was he mad at me? Had I done something wrong? After what felt like eternity, he sighed, gripping the steering wheel as he looked on his lap and admitted, “I’m gonna have to go to this family dinner on Friday.”

Immediately, I breathed deeply in relief, suddenly realizing just how worried I actually was that his mood had something to do with me. But then I was reminded of the little that Ransom had told me about this family - even that little felt like too much.

I could only imagine the anxiety he was feeling, and my heart ached to soothe him as best as I could. “Do you want me to go with you?” I asked, running my digits over his nape calmly, keeping my voice as soft as possible to help him relax.

Still, his head snapped up so he could meet my eyes, his wide as two saucers as he struggled to process what I’d said. “… You’d do that?” He sounded so surprised, so genuinely shocked by my offer, that I couldn’t stop myself from giggling, taking both of his hands on mine and squeezing them gently.

“Of course I would, honey.” Ransom’s eyes were so soft as they stared into mine, even as my heart doubled its size in its effort to reach out for his, I found myself justifying, “You went with me to see my parents!”

The way his smile dropped at my explanation had me feeling cold and empty, desperate to see him look at me the same way he was doing only seconds ago.

“Besides,” I forced myself to admit it, trying not to sound as breathless as I felt while I opened my heart to him. “I-I don’t want you to go through that alone. I wanna be there for you, like you were for me.”

Immediately, I felt rewarded on my effort to open up by the smile he gave me. “Thank you, baby.” He squeezed my hand this time, and when he leaned over and connected our lips on a quick peck, my heart skipped a beat.

I was in love with this man.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I sighed as we stood in front of my grandfather’s front door, trying to adjust my sweater that suddenly felt uncomfortable. Beside me, she seemed to be doing the exact same thing, fingers pulling on the end of the dress she was wearing, making me smile.

The dress highlighted her bump - it was now undeniable that she was pregnant and even if I’d never been particularly attracted to women in this stage of life, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her now.

It was like she shined from within. Her beauty amazed me, and so when she noticed me staring and stopped fiddling with her clothes, straightening herself up to ask, “Do I look okay?” I had to stop myself from laughing.

“Yes.” More than okay. “But are you sure you won’t be cold?” We’d gone through this argument before leaving the house, so I was prepared to see her rolling her eyes as she reached out to take my hand in hers.

“Unless your family has the habit of dining outdoors regardless of the weather, I think we’ll be alright.” I chuckled, rubbing my thumb on the back of her hand, but it sounded nervous even to my own ears. It didn’t surprise me that she noticed it. “Are you ready?” She questioned, voice in that soothing tone she used whenever she noticed my stress.

“Not at all,” I admitted, but in all honesty, the prospect of joining my family for dinner didn’t seem as bad as it usually did. Not with her by my side.

“I’m here for you.” Hearing her say those words meant more to me than I was able to properly express at that moment so I just stared at her, taking in the fact that this incredible person actually cared about me.

“Just… don’t leave me alone, okay?” Her immediate nod had me smiling. It prompted me to once again lean over and connect our lips, only this time, when I tried to pull away, she kept me close with her hand on the back of my neck.

Who knows where this kiss might have led us if the door hadn’t open right at that moment, revealing my lousy uncle who stared from me to her with wide eyes?

“… She’s pregnant? With your baby?” A groan was all I could muster as a response, tugging her into the house with me. “When were you going to tell your family?”

“For fuck’s sake,” I cursed, looking around the living room for the bar. “Where’s the goddamn alcohol?” There was no way I’d be able to survive this night without it, as much as I wanted to be supportive of Y/N.

“I think that’s a bottle of scotch,” I heard her whispering next to me, pointing towards a corner of the room, and I sighed in relief at her understanding.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

An hour into the evening and I had already understood why Ransom was the way that he was - and why he liked his grandfather so much, despite how he felt about the rest of the family.

Harlan was gentle where all of his children were… prickly. In fact, he was the only one who addressed me at all, but I found myself feeling grateful for it, since when the dinner actually started, I wanted the rest of the family to forget about me completely.

“I am so sorry,” Harlan apologized, rubbing his hands nervously as he stared at the rest of the family who was walking towards the dining room. “I sleep early, everyone knows that, but this is the only time they could all gather and since they didn’t know you were coming…”

I waved away his apologies, offering him a hug as I wished him good night. “Just as long as you’ve had your dinner, Harlan. Thanks for welcoming me into your home.”

He accepted my embrace easily, taking advantage of the proximity to whisper in my ear, “Just hang on to him, dear. I promise it’ll be worth it.” I smiled when we parted, nodding in confirmation to his words.

“It already is,” I assured him, but he only sighed.

“Make sure to remember that during dinner…” Now I understood why. It started with a simple question, one of the maids offered me some meat, and when I hesitated to answer…

“God, are you daft, girl? Have you never eaten lamb?” My eyes widened in surprise, but before Ransom could have the chance to throw himself at his mother, I just squeezed his thigh.

“I was going to ask her if there was any oregano in the sauce. It’s been making me feel sick.” I didn’t need to add why - the reminder of my situation, of what led me to be there with them in this dining room was very clear in me.

And still, that didn’t stop them.

“That’s a pretty necklace…” Ransom’s father commented before we could even grab a bite. I chuckled to myself, immediately catching onto what he wasn’t saying.

“Thanks, I got it at a little boutique back home. It was a gift for myself after I got my first paycheck.” I could feel Ransom’s gaze on me, the waves of pride rolling from him in waves. It made me smile, but it was just the calm before the storm.

“Ransom, have you contacted a lawyer?” This question came from his uncle’s wife, Donna - I think that’s what she was called. Not that she tried to introduce herself to me or anything, but Harlan made sure I knew everyone’s name as soon as I stepped inside the house.

“Why?” Ransom’s tone was vicious and his squinted eyes alerted everyone that he was prepared for a strike, but the fact that he still hadn’t anticipated what was coming almost made me laugh.

Even Donna herself hesitated, unbelieving that he was going to make her say it. “There’s no way you’re that stupid.” And just like that, the doors to hell were opened up.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but then again, was I really surprised?

“You should make sure to draw a prenup,” Donna insisted, while the rest of the family pretended not to hear, undoubtedly coming up with their own ways to insult Y/N. “Something that will assure only your kid has access to your money.”

I could hear Y/N quietly laughing to herself next to me, but while she was able to find the irony in the situation amusing, all I felt was blinding rage.

“God, do you even hear the shit you say? I never asked for your input, this, right here, is precisely why I didn’t tell any of you all about my baby.” I saw Y/N flinch from the corner of my eyes before I heard my mother’s fork drop against the precious porcelain dish she was pretending to eat from. I knew this was the sorest topic of discussion for her. I knew this was why she had been pretending Y/N wasn’t even there, hadn’t even been invited to dinner with me.

“Fair enough,” she spoke, lying back against her chair as she finally raised her eyes to meet mine. “I don’t know if we even should learn anything about this child, considering it most likely isn’t even yours.”

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice over me. Y/N was oddly quiet now, seemingly as frozen as me - and when I realized that, my anger returned with twice its power.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I warned, just as my mother retorted, “Don’t you talk like that to me.” I didn’t even have the chance to talk back when she stroke again. “You fuck so many ransom desperate chicks, I’m surprised this is the first you knocked up.”

This was as insulting to her as it was to me, and it also struck a chord in me because of how I feared this was just reinforcing Y/N’s views of me. “Don’t say shit like that,” I threatened, to no avail. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Ransom…” Her sweet voice tried to intervene, but I was too far gone to hold myself back now. I couldn’t stand the thought that I was hurting her because I was the reason she was here in the first place.

“You know nothing about her, and yet you feel comfortable judging her,” I continued, ignoring her completely. “She’s a lawyer, actually. You would know it if you had even bothered to talk to her. If there was ever the need for a prenup, I’d have her draw it.”

Maybe they thought I’d stop at that - I thought so myself, until I realized there was still so much I wanted to get out, and I was going to do that now.

“And you know what? I trust her more than I trust you, and I came out of you. So maybe you should consider that before you attack the one person I try to introduce to my family.” I hated everything about this. I hated how they still managed to get to me, how the fact that my own mother, who I didn’t even respect, still managed to make me feel inadequate about the one thing in my life that made me excited.

I knew I’d always lose with them. They just had this way of inciting the beast in me - they brought out the worst in me, and I felt helpless to fight it.

“Okay, so she’s not some random skank,” my uncle oh-so-helplessly interrupted, immediately making me want to punch him in his stupid face. “But this just means she’s the one playing you.”

“Oh, shut up!” I threw my hands up, pushing my chair away from the table, fully intended to storm out of the room until Meg was the one who stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Did you even get a paternity test, Ransom?” She seemed almost uncomfortable to voice it, eyes darting from me to Y/N, but I could read her apologetic smile perfectly.

She just didn’t want someone else to get Harlan’s attention and interest because that would potentially mean less money to each and everyone of the people in this room, as he’d add one more person to his aid list.

My father took advantage of what Meg said, waving in her direction. “Don’t you know how important this family is? How quickly she could rise in any job because of a connection to us?”

My mother scoffed, finally ready to interfere again. “Knowing she’s actually smart leaves me even more surprised that you’ve relented and decided to become someone’s little plaything until this baby pops out. I’m assuming a few months with a screaming kid and you’re just gonna abandon her anyway. Which is fine by me, I won’t have to pretend to be a grandmother for long.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

All I could think was how grateful I was that I had accompanied him to this dinner tonight. As I watched his chest heaving with fury, I could not imagine how he would have felt having to deal with all of this on his own.

“Ransom,” I tried to catch his attention, pulling him back to his seat. “Ransom, it’s okay,” I tried to appease him, but he was too fucking gone to care.

“No, it’s not okay, he pushed my hand away, getting up from his chair to lean over the table, both hands on top of it as he stared at his mother. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He yelled, making me flinch, although Linda hardly seemed bothered by it.

Then, much to my surprise, Ransom straightened up, running a hand through his hair as an emotionless chuckle escaped him. “No, you know what? You’re right. You’re not gonna be a grandmother. I’m gonna be a father, Harlan’s gonna be a great-grandfather, but that’s it. I’m not gonna keep taking your shit anymore, Linda, you know why? Even if this child wasn’t mine, I’d still want her and this kid.”

My heartbeat pumped out of control as he continued, “She’s not just someone who’s carrying my child. I care about her. And if you can’t respect her, than I guess I was right in keeping this pregnancy from you.”

I held my breath as Ransom apparently caught his, my head swirling with the different emotions running through me - my infatuation for this man, who had so fiercely defended me from his entire family, the adrenaline from witnessing such a vicious argument.

I truly believed this would be the end of it. I didn’t know where they could go from here - that was, of course, until Linda decided to attack him.

“Oh, and you think you’re going to be so great with it?” My blood boiled when her words turned against her own son so easily. Attack me and my dignity? That was okay, these people didn’t know me.

But seeing her attack Ransom was just too much for me.

“Do you think she’ll want to keep you around once she realizes she’ll be raising two children with you to weigh her down?” Ransom visibly faltered, like she had slapped him, and that’s when I had enough. “You’ll never be able to give her the emotional support that she needs and you know that.”

I rose to my feet at that, holding onto my lower back as I softly slapped Ransom’s back in an attempt to calm him down. “I got this, babe.” He was so surprised - and still so hurt by his mother’s statements - that he didn’t even try to stop me. In fact, I think he didn’t even realize what was going on until I turned to Linda and started talking.

“Do you really think that poorly of your son that you can’t believe he has anything to offer in a relationship?” Now she was the one who looked up at me with an expression that looked like I had physically hurt her.

“Is it that unbelievable to you, that someone would be able to like him for him?” She didn’t seem to be able to find anything to answer to me, and when I turned to Richard, I was also met with silence.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“Well, I do,” she announced, like it was the single most obvious thing, the simplest fact to deduce in the world, while I stood back watching her with my mouth hanging open. “I like him enough to be willing to open up to him even if one day he might leave me because to me, he is worth any possibility of future pain.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d never had anyone defend me like this, not even Harlan - not even my parents, when I was a kid and the bigger children decided to bully me.

No, back then all I got was a talk about how “real men don’t cry” and if my father ever caught me cowering from someone else again he’d give me a real reason to be afraid.

“And I do say possibility,” she continued, not having raised her voice for even a second and still to effortlessly able to catch the attention of everyone in the room, assure herself the ground to speak her mind without the fear of interruptions. “Because Ransom’s actions have never given me any reason to think that outcome is even remotely probable.”

“So maybe you think about your own opinions of your son’s character and see if they don’t reflect your own more than they reflect his actions.” She turned around after that, tiny hand encircling my wrist as she began to yank me in the direction of the front door.

“Let’s go.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #my series #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale series #ransom drysdale writings

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animatedrapture · 5 years ago

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RINTOBER : [ forbidden fruit ]

suna rintarō x reader

word count: 2,418

tags: NSFW, GOD COMPLEX, SACRILEGIOUS, power play (?), degradation, choking, momentary exhibitionism(?), size kink(?)

a/n: thank you to my precious wife @toffees-main for proofreading this for me and for first, urging me to actually write it when i was brainrotting again lmao. also, i figured this would be good for rintober! so here it is.

Neither you nor your boyfriend, Suna Rintarō, knew what had cut the knot that tied his self-control together. Perhaps it was the raven colored silk fabric that had adored your body for the night, or the sheer white and lacy panties that you had paired with it in contrast—the one he watched you slipped on as you got dressed for this very event.

Watching as you did so had his breath hitching, "Bunny," he even groaned. He was as deadpanned as they came but you were an often exception to this; you and the way you looked at him, made him feel, writhed from underneath him, to the way you'd moan into his ear with repetitive, blabbered nonsense; all of it just meaning and begging him for more, more, more.

The venue was littered with pro athletes like Suna and businessmen who had their names adorned with brands and companies they owned, sponsoring teams and individual athletes alike; usually, one would assume that Suna Rintarō would be the eye candy in these events—and he is—it's simply that right now, you looked more enticing than the forbidden fruit that Adam and Eve had sinfully indulged in from the beginning of time.

With the dress shining as you moved, scatteredly placed lights affecting how it accentuated your figure, you truly were a sight to behold, glowing like an angel, and the eyes that followed you knew.

Perhaps it was the way Suna didn't know what to do from the moment the both of you had stepped out of the limousine to the very last second that the two of you had stayed in that godforsaken party, only three hours later; in what seemed to be longest three hours of his life, he was in the constant state of either threatening other men who were nowhere near ashamed with the way they gawked at you and eyed you like a hawk as if you were a prize to be won in an illegal auction or staring at you and how your dress danced with every dip of your body.

It especially didn't help how you looked back at him, eyes swimming with neediness, your touch never once leaving his body. At first, you were convinced it was the nerves—you're nervous, this is the first time you'd gone to such a high-end event that never ran short with big names, important people, huge companies—that's why your tight grip on his upper arm wouldn’t leave for even a second as if you'd get lost with no idea how to find your way back to him. Though, it didn't take long for you to figure out that while yes, you're nervous, you also can't get enough of watching the way Suna's muscles flexed through the suit he had on with every movement he made, or the way his fox-like eyes looked down on you with so much want, nor can you get enough with the way he'd subconsciously pull your body closer to him for whatever reason you didn't have the liberty to ponder on about.

It could even be the way he felt how drenched you were when he had sat you on his lap in one of the corners of the venue just to take a little break from all the socialization. How he had rubbed his hand up and down your waist before tugging you to the corner, his lips latching on to the skin where your neck and shoulder met with a harsh suck—an immediate sigh of relief escaping past your lips as he did so. After all, it's high time he stakes an even more evident claim on you, right? It's not like you minded how he was littering the visible parts of your neck and chest with lovebites, especially when his hand was snaking its way underneath your dress, caressing your inner thighs and ghosting over the oh so wet patch of your underwear.

“Please,” you whined, grinding yourself against him, desperate for some sort of friction that would ease the aching need you had to just let him bend you over to fuck you.

Maybe it was how you were possibly staining his slacks with your slick as you grinded against him, how he was practically claiming you right in that very public venue, and how you begged for him is what made him indulge in your pleas. You held your breath in anticipation as you feel his finger move your panties to the side—and as the boyfriend who just knew you through and through, he kisses you to silence the moan that you let out the moment his finger traced the line along your slit, rubbing your clit before easing his fingers inside you without any resistance.

God, it was almost shameful how dripping wet you were for him. Only almost, though, because the only thing that truly mattered was the approving hum he'd let out, vibrating against the hand you had placed against his chest. When Suna adds another finger, curling it to hit that spongy, sweet spot, it takes all your willpower not to clasp your legs together and just beg for him to take you right there—something you're sure he wouldn't be too opposed to if the tent in his pants poking your ass would be anything to go by.

When he pulls his fingers out, glistening with your wetness under the glow of the place, your face flushes.

"Clean it up, bunny," he whispers to your ear, and his voice is husky; it was unfair, his voice alone sounded seducing and you were nearly mindless to just how aroused you were.

Suna Rintarō is like sin. The sweetest, most delicious, addicting sin. You know this and you're almost sure Suna does, too. He was temptation—the snake and the forbidden fruit molded into one, perfect being; and you were no people pleaser, but it's always a different case when it comes to Suna. If it pleased him, you'd do it in a heartbeat.

So you do as you're told, like a good bunny, Suna would say. You wrap your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself as you bob your head from the base to his fingertips. Suna looks calm as ever but you know better with the rapid beat of his heart against his chest, its every skip echoing to your hand.

You let his fingers go from your mouth with a pop, "All clean, sir," you tell him, eyes wide, pupils blown out with lust. Suna places a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, "That's a good bunny."

It was a shame the marks Suna had littered all over you did nothing to keep the predator-like gaze that fell over you once the both of you came back. What was it? Did he have to fuck you mindless in front of them to get the message across?

The last straw was the man who approached you. You, specifically—not even sparing Suna a glance as he stopped at nothing with his attempts to flirt with you. Suna lets you handle it as he stood next to you, his arm still around your waist protectively as one of EJP Raijin's sponsors talked his ear off. You're a big girl and it was a lot more satisfying to tell other men off on your own.

"I have a modeling company as well, we'd be happy to have a beauty like you there. I personally would—"

There's a polite yet nearly deadly smile you pull off when you say, "I'm not interested," and you tell him this dead in the eye, without waver.

"C'mon darling, I'd love to have you—"

"And what you think doesn't matter to me, I don't care," you continue with a smile that should've told him it was really time to back out. It was such a shame it didn't, as the man reaches out to take your wrist.

Quick as the man had your wrist in his grasp, was as quick did Suna had the man's arm bent painfully to his back, Suna's expressionless eyes looking down at the man with such distaste. He didn't need to waste his breath to say the man was a scum of the earth, absolutely worthless, lesser than the gum on his shoe.

"She already told you to fuck off, didn't she?"

Suna Rintarō really was beyond the description of words. The way Suna towered over the man who couldn't take no for an answer, who winced at the death grip his bent arm was subjected to, who was now babbling apologies—hell, it made you press your thighs together.

It was your luck you didn't need to wait any longer after that.

Suna had your face shoved into the mattress, your ass up and cunt dripping as it clenched around nothing. You swore you were about to cry with how much you just wanted him to fuck you without reservation, as if all you were to him was a fuckdoll to use and nothing more, so when you feel him lick up a stripe along your slit, you whine.

"Rin, no, please, need your cock now, please," you beg, and he chuckles at you, but it's dark, like he's telling you what a pathetic little whore you were to be begging for him like that.

But since you are his precious bunny afterall, he'll indulge in your wants; he lines up the head of his cock to your entrance, and when he's pushed it in, your thighs are already trembling as you cream around it instantaneously—pleased at the feeling of finally having his thick cock easing into you.

"Such a slut, bunny, cumming just from me putting it in," He says before his voice lowers and he tells you, "Gonna fuck you dumb, baby."

His hips snap, completely sheathing into your velvet walls that clenched around him as if you didn't want him to go. He doesn't miss a beat though, he's immediately rutting into you at an unforgiving pace.

"Oh fuck, Rin, s-so deep, slow d—"

"Don't care, bunny, 's what you wanted, wasn't it? So be a good girl and take it."

You know you're moaning, but you don't know what words were coming out of your mouth anymore, all you knew was the sensation of Suna and his thick cock stretching your little cunny out, rearranging your insides.

"Awww—fuck, bunny gone dumb so quickly?"

When he thrusts into you in such a way that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you scream, "God, fuck, god, yes! god yes!"

That's what halts Suna's thrusts, it helps you come to your senses a little bit as you try your best to look back at him, confused why he stopped.

"What did you just call me, you desperate cock whore?" Suddenly, he sounded way more dominating than usual, way more intimidating, it made you feel so much smaller in comparison.

You wish you can answer him, but you can't—all you knew was the overwhelming pleasure you were swimming in. You shake your head the best you can, "D-don't know, Rin," you sob as you feel him slip out of you.

Suna flips you over to your back, the way he's staring down at you is making you completely breathless, and you—you were glowing like an angel, like you were at the party earlier. Only now, your hair was sprawled out into the bed, your skin littered with the marks he made, and your face—beautiful in the most erotic, sinful of ways; tear-stained cheeks, eyes half lidded gazing up to him in complete submission and lips parted.

He presses one of your legs to your chest, the other spread open for him as he lines himself to your sopping entrance again, "You called me your god, dumb bitch," he said as he pounds into you completely—so particularly deep that it had your mind reeling.

You feel Suna's large hand wrap around your throat, squeezing, "You worship me that much, bunny? Such a devoted little whore for your god, always lettin' me use you as I please, hm?" he says as he regains his brutal pace, you're not even sure how many times you've cum on his cock at this point, all you know is that you're clenching around him, sucking him in with every merciless thrust.

When you don't answer, mind too hazy and completely dazed, Suna tightens his grip around your throat, "When your god asks you a question, you fucking answer, yea? Or is this all you're good for? A body for the god you worship so much to fuck?"

"Ah—yes! You're my god. Nngh—please, god, please, I'm so close," you sob, you're looking at him with so much desperation as he continues to fuck you, your nails digging into his arms as you try to take each of his harsh pounding. Suna likes you like this—completely untethered for him and him alone.

Suna was your god, the only one who can make you feel like this, as if you're in heaven with nothing but bliss, nothing but pleasure.

"You are, aren't you? My own whore made just for her god—for me," his thick length that was twitching inside you and the dirty words coming from him were putting your senses into complete overdrive. The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix, it was nearly painful if it wasn't for the sensation of his hand around your throat and the delicious way his dick was stroking your walls in all the right ways.

You nod desperately as you feel your orgasm nearly at the brink, you're sobbing with each time he fucks into you, "Yes! God, please—let me cum, god, please, please, please," you beg, you repeat it over and over like a prayer to him.

"Cum for me, bunny. Cum all over your god's cock like a good girl," He goes faster as both of you reach your high.

The way you whine while you convulse around him, moaning about how good he was fucking you, screaming, "Yes, god! Yes!" with your cunt clenching impossibly tighter as you squirt all over is what does it for him—his movement stutters and his languid thrusts loses its rhythm as he empties into you, his warm cum painting in your insides white.

You're glowing again—from underneath him. Your love and devotion to Suna Rintarō is truly unparalleled as you give him a lazy smile, and you tell him, "God, thank you, Rin."

That's how Suna knows you're made just for your god—for him.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #suna #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintarō #suna smut #suna rintaro smut #;depravity #RINTOBER

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

Headcanon - When he realises that you aren’t taking care of yourself

Original title: 当他发现你不好好照顾自己

Original writer: 池离子 (chi li zi)

[ VICTOR ]

Working overtime at night, you finally complete your work and return home fatigued. You haven't had dinner, and only drank a cup of coffee and took a bite out of a sandwich in the afternoon.

You slump on the sofa, so tired that you don’t feel like moving an inch. The shops have closed. Because you’ve never had the time to eat at home, there’s no food available. Your tummy grumbles, but you don’t have the energy to search for food.

"Ding dong."

"Ding dong ding dong."

Who is it...

You drag your tired body to open the door, and what enters your line of sight is Victor’s expressionless face.

"Ah... Victor. It’s already so late... what’s up?”

"You’ve only returned home at this time?”

He seems a little angry.

"I was working overtime... How did you know? Were you squatting downstairs or something?”

Before you even finish speaking, your stomach grumbles inappropriately.

This is so awkward.

"You haven't eaten?"

You nod.

Victor squeezes into your house, walks straight into your house, and takes off his coat before draping it on the sofa.

"What are you doing?"

"Cooking dinner for a dummy."

"Ah, wait...”

You try to stop Victor from opening the refrigerator, but it's too late.

Victor opens your refrigerator, which isn’t even powered. Inside, there are only two bottles of glucose supplements.

You watch as his face darkens.

“You don’t have food at home?”

"Nope...”

"Snacks? Biscuits?"

"...nope...”

“How do you normally settle your meals?”

“I... would buy bread from the store. But I didn’t have time this morning so I skipped it... it’s too late now and the stores are closed. And I didn’t have time to cook.... and the food I make isn’t even nice!”

Victor takes two steps towards you, clasping your waist with both hands, and frowns.

"You’ve become thinner.”

You respond happily. "That's great!”

Victor releases his grip on you, puts on his suit jacket, then walks over and takes your hand.

“What?”

"Forget about the rent for this apartment. Come back with me. I’ll cook three meals a day for you. And I’ll pick you up at night.”

"A certain dummy can't take care of herself, so I’ll take care of her."

"Resign from your company. Come to work at LFG. The salary is high, and you’ll get to send your boyfriend to work.”

[ GAVIN ]

You’re truly a careless person.

You’d fall down on the street, crash into trees while walking, knock your head against low walls, hit your elbow when you lift your hand, and bump your toes against furniture when doing household chores.

As such, your body always has bruises. Sometimes, they appear without you even noticing.

Today, you accidentally cut your fingers while slicing vegetables. While cooking, you were also scalded by the hot oil, resulting in blisters.

Ah, what a dismal life.

Doing some mental calculations, you realise that today’s the last day of Gavin’s mission, and the day he returns home.

Rinsing the blisters on your arm with cold water, you continue dealing with the dishes in the pot.

You’re going to prepare a table of food for Gavin! That boy must be incredibly hungry after working outside for so long.

Click.

You hear the sound of the door opening, followed by a voice in the hallway.

"MC--”

“Hey!” You respond. “You’re back! You came back at the right time - dinner’s ready!”

Gavin changes into a pair of slippers, removes his outer uniform, and heads to the bathroom to wash his hands. You’re currently serving the final dish of stir-fried cabbage, and the table is all ready.

Gavin sits across from you, meticulously eyeing the dishes before him. Without any hesitation, he delivers praise. “Smells good. You’ve worked hard.”

“Hehe, go ahead and eat. I’m really confident in my cooking skills!” While speaking, you hand Gavin a pair of chopsticks.

Taking the chopsticks from you, he catches a glimpse of the blisters on your arm, and the band-aid wrapped around your finger.

“What happened?” He asks frantically, setting down the chopsticks and taking your hand in his.

“This one was due to hot oil... this one was when I was cutting vegetables. I’m okay now!”

You slowly extricate your hand from his. Gavin looks really worried. He stands up and walks to you, carefully looking you up from top to bottom. As expected, he discovers two new bruises on your calf.

“And this?”

“The one on the left was caused by the corner of the bed... the one on the right was because I bumped against the corner of the table...”

Gavin’s eyes are filled with worry, and he hugs you.

"Why are you so careless... why didn’t you tell me over the phone?"

You pat him on the back.

“You already have many things to worry about! I can’t make you worry about me too... Besides, you don’t always tell me when you get hurt either...”

You feel the arms around you tighten.

“I’ll tell you next time... so you have to tell me too. I’ll try to accept fewer missions, and spend more time at home with you. Okay?”

“Good, good! Commander Gavin must make sure that I don’t get hurt again!”

"Mm.”

[ LUCIEN ]

It's late at night. Walking out of the elevator, you stand at your door, looking for the keys to open the door to your house.

"Click."

The door opens, but it isn’t yours, but your neighbour’s.

"Little Butterfly.”

It’s Lucien. He opens the door, half of his body out as he peers at you.

"Lucien! Good evening!"

"Why did the Little Butterfly return home so late?"

"Ah, I worked overtime..."

Lucien shuts the door and walks out, standing in front of you. He has changed out of his usual white coat and white shirt, and is currently wearing loose home clothes. Feeling his stare on you, you rub your head in embarrassment.

“W-what’s wrong? Is there something on my face?”

“Have you not been resting well? You’ve got heavy dark circles...”

“Ah, this...” you look at him in embarrassment. “It looks really bad, doesn’t it... I’ve had too much work on my hands these days, so I’ve been having trouble sleeping at night since my mind’s filled with work even though I’m obviously tired...”

Lucien takes your hand.

"Come."

"Huh? Where are we going?”

"To my house.”

You’re pulled into his house, and a sweet-smelling aroma wafts over to you, making you feel drowsy.

"There’s a spare pink toothbrush and toothpaste on the counter. There’s a set of pyjamas I’ve been wanting to give you. I’ll bring it over for you. Sleep at my house tonight, okay? This aromatherapy assists with sleep. I promise that you’ll have a very good sleep."

You’ve stayed over at Lucien's house before. The previous time, it was because it was too late and you didn't bring your house key, so you had no choice but to knock on Lucien's door for help.

You brush your teeth and put on the one-size pyjamas he bought you. The fragrance and warm light in the room make you slump on the bed very quickly.

Lucien covers you with a thin quilt. The heater is turned on, making the place especially warm and cosy.

You feel him sitting at the side of the bed, a warm hand on your back, patting your back and coaxing you to sleep.

"Little Butterfly... don’t go back... live here with me, and you can sleep well every night..."

"Mm... mm..."

Admist his gentle voice and gentle tapping, you fall asleep.

[ KIRO ]

You’re on your period, but the company’s affairs are getting busier and busier. Every day, Kiki can see your pale face as you shift between various departments.

By the time you get home, the heater has stopper operating.

You’ve always felt cold easily, no matter what time of the year it is, and whether you wear shoes and socks.

At the end of a busy day, you collapse on the sofa while covering your stomach, but it just hurts more and more. Because your hands are cold, it's perhaps more accurate to say that your stomach’s covering you.

"Click--"

You heard the sound of the door opening.

"Miss Chips!!"

Kiro's energetic voice drifts over.

This is your home, but you gave Kiro a key, and he occasionally stays over at your home without notice. He just finished filming a drama today. After rushing through a dinner with the producer, he bought a lot of snacks and visited your place.

"Ro Ro... ooh..."

You lie on the sofa and stretch out your hand to him. He tosses down the bag of snacks, grinning while giving you a hug.

You tousle his short blond hair as he nuzzles against your chest. When he reaches out to grab your hand, he ends up grabbing a cold object.

Lifting his head, he sees that it’s ndeed your hand.

"Miss Chips, why are your hands so cold..."

He releases his hold on you, then covers your hands with his. Unfortunately, they aren’t sufficient to warm you up.

"Want to take a bath? Maybe your hands will feel a little warmer."

You frown.

"I don't want to! I'm so tired... also, my stomach hurts so much. I... can’t take a bath right now.And my feet are so cold..."

Kiro tilts his head to look at your feet. Soon after, a pair of thin socks are pulled onto your feet.

"Miss Chips... why don't you lie down on the bed? You’ll feel warmer under the covers..."

"I’m tired-”

Even before you finish speaking, Kiro’s arms reach behind your back and knees. He lifts you up steadily, and easily carries you to the bed.

After he covers you with a quilt, you watch as he hurries out. After a short while, he returns with a cup of hot ginger tea and two warm water bottles.

Placing the cup into your hands, he heads to the end of the bed, placing a warm water bottle underneath your feet. Once you’ve finished drinking the ginger tea, he hands you the other water bottle.

"Miss Chips... if you don't feel well, let someone else handle the work. Don’t tire yourself.... I’ll come over more often next time, to make sure that you’re taking good care of yourself.”

Soft blonde hair once against nestles against your chest.

[ SHAW ]

You’re almost late, and you’re rushing to the company. The scorching sun beats down on your pale face.

All of a sudden, darkness overcomes your vision.

When you regain consciousness, you find yourself lying on a hospital bed. A noise is at your ear, but you’re still in a daze and unable to comprehend what is being said.

Turning your head towards the sound, strands of lavender hair occupy your vision. Your eyes widen. It’s Shaw.

“Hello, hello? Are you deaf? Can you hear me?”

Mustering the final bit of energy you have, you return his words.

“Lower your volume. I’m not deaf.”

Shaw purses his lips.

“You’re still in the mood for jokes. You scared me to death. If I didn’t see you collapsed on the street while skateboarding to class, you might still be lying there right now.”

"Thanks...”

Shaw leans in closer, staring at your intently.

“Mary Sue, the doctor said that you have low blood sugar. Didn’t you have breakfast?”

“I didn't have the time... I worked overtime till late yesterday, and didn’t get enough sleep. I was almost late this morning, so how could I have time for breakfast...”

Shaw ponders for a while.

“That’s not right. If you’re fainting like this, it’s not because you didn’t have breakfast. You didn’t eat last night, did you?”

You nod.

“It was so late... I was so tired, so I skipped dinner...”

"Tch.”

Once you’re discharged from the hospital, Shaw moves into your place.

In the mornings, he’d shake you till you get up, and you’d enjoy the breakfast he prepared. At noon, you’d receive the snacks he buys for you, garnering envious glances from female colleagues. When you work overtime at night, he’d appear in your office with his skateboard and a bento box. After returning home from a long day of hard work, he’d retrieve a small cake from the refrigerator like magic.

“Shaw, stop feeding me. I’ve gained five pounds.”

He spins you around twice, pinches your tummy, then chuckles.

“That’s just right.”

–

More translated and original works: here

–

[ Permission to translate ]

池离子: OK! Just state that the source is LOFTER池离子. Also, if you’ve posted it, could you also take a screenshot for me? No need for the whole thing - just a little will do!

#mlqc #mlqc cheri shortcake

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shyficwriter · 4 years ago

Text

You Laugh, You lose

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Yondu, Kraglin, Peter

Summary: You're stuck on planet until morning when a part fails on Yondu's M-ship, so Peter suggests a game to pass the time.

Author’s Note: This is the fluffy/funny fic I promised to make up for the two angsty fics before it. Hope you like it! Also shoutout to @badjokesbyjeff where I got most of these jokes from.

Word Count: 3,100

One rule.

You laugh. You lose.

Ok, maybe there were a couple more rules than that, but that was the gist.

It was a game often played between you and Peter, and occasionally also with Yondu or Kraglin on long job travels to kill the boredom.

The goal? Make the other person laugh. If you succeed, you win. You fail, then the game continues until someone loses it and laughs. Winner gets bragging rights, loser usually has to buy a round of drinks for the rest.

The game had originally started out with the one rule, but over time a couple more rules had been added. One of these rules was that stuff like tickling was cheating. You'd think this would have been an obvious rule to start with, but when it was you losing the game to tickles, Peter didn't mind. Less competition, right? But once the tables were turned and he lost a round, then suddenly tickling was "major cheating" and "totally unfair!" So, naturally, now there was a "no touching" rule during the game.

Another rule that needed to be added later was that Yondu couldn't gibberish talk his way to a win. It just gave him too much of an unfair advantage over you and Kraglin, who would crack up very quickly upon being face to face with a deadpan Yondu talking to you in pure nonsense. Peter was the only one of you three not really effected by it, as he found it more annoying than anything else.

Of course, Yondu tried to use his status as captain to veto this rule, but after a vote of 3-1 against the gibberish, he finally relented, stating that, "Aw, fine! I don't need to do that to win anyway!"

However, this didn't stop him from slipping a little in from time to time, always claiming he "forgot."

Sure, Yondu. Sure.

That was pretty much the main rules. The rest were more just guidelines. Like, smiling was allowed, as it didn't count as laughing, but too sharp of an exhale out your nose while smiling could be considered a laugh. Stuff like that.

Today happened to be one of those days where a job had run long, or rather, the trip did.

The job actually went fairly smoothly, to Yondu's surprise. However, when it was all said and done and it was time to leave, the ship wouldn't start.

Luckily, Yondu knew a guy who could fix the problem (just something minor with the fuel intake, but at the same time not something that Yondu could fix without replacing a part he didn't have and certain tools he didn't bring with him.) Only problem was the guy couldn't get the part in until the morning.

So you were all stuck there. Until morning. On a patch of the planet that wasn't within reasonable walking distance of anything fun. Plus it was raining, so you were all more or less confined to the ship for the evening.

Great.

So that's why Peter proposed a game of You Laugh You Lose.

At first Yondu didn't want to, being grumpy about being stranded for the night over such a minor fix and all, but Kraglin managed to convince him in hopes it would lift his spirits.

Now, playing with four people was a little different than one on one. With two people you'd sit facing your opponent and take turns trying to make the other laugh. When starting with four you all sat around the table, each person taking a turn in attempts to get any of the other three to laugh. If someone cracks, regardless of who made them laugh, they're out, and can act as referees, or mildly help crack the others if they choose. Also, instead of the just first to lose owing everyone a round a drinks, all three losers would owe a round, pretty much ensuring the winner 3 free drinks the next time they went out.

Peter sat directly in front of you at the small table, with Yondu to your left and Kraglin sitting directly in front of him. The four of you took a second to fully compose yourselves, making your faces as expressionless as possible, and then Peter started.

He stared you dead in the eye. "Why do bees hum?" he asked, waiting a moment, more for comedic timing than an actual answer, as was how many of the jokes told in the game went. When no one spoke up he said, "Because they don't know the words."

You exhaled slowly through your nose and shook your head, the known sign for, "That the best you got?"

Kraglin's turn now. He took a different approach. He crossed his eyes and in a deadpan voice said, "Wanna hear a joke about a piece of paper?"

Yondu raised an eyebrow, but shook his head when Kraglin continued, "Never mind, it's tearable." Peter made the universal noise for having heard a bad joke.

Your turn. "What did the A'askavariian say after a bad night out?"

"What?" asked Kraglin.

"Wouldn't know. You should ask Peter."

Peter made a scandalized noise. "One time!"

You saw Yondu's mouth twitch, but he quickly recovered. Kraglin took a deep breath and exhaled to keep it together.

Yondu's turn. He told another joke at Peter's expense, and actually made himself crack a smile when Peter protested again. You and Kraglin fought back grins as Peter took his turn.

"What's Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

The three of you shake your heads, though in Yondu and Kraglin's case you were sure it was more because they didn't know who Beethoven was. This was then confirmed by Kraglin asking, "Who's that?"

Peter didn't answer the question, instead letting out a, "Ba-na-NA-NA!"

Peter said this so suddenly and loudly that even Yondu jerked his head back in startled surprise, as did Kraglin, but Kraglin also had to stop himself from barking out a startled laugh. You, however, had to try much harder to keep yourself from laughing. It wasn't even that good of a joke, but his delivery had you biting your tongue to keep it together. Yondu didn't get the joke, but assumed it likely would have been real funny on Terra as he watched you try to steady your breathing just as Kraglin took his turn.

"Ya know the difference between an oral and rectal thermometer? ... The taste."

That one received a collective groan and a look of disgust from you and Peter. Yondu looked almost impressed as he shook his head.

It was your turn again. "I once watched a documentary on how ships are kept together. It was... riveting." You wiggled your eyebrows on the punchline, but only received a mock-disappointed stare from the others at your awful pun.

Instead of a joke, Yondu decided on his next turn to tell a story. "One time we were on a job on Krylor," he began, "and a pretty lil' miss thing caught Peter's eye..."

Peter's eyes widened. He had a bad feeling about which story Yondu was about to tell. "Yondu, don't." he warned flatly.

Yondu only grinned and ignored him "He goes sauntering up to her, trying to be all smooth like.."

"Yondu, seriously." Peter warned again. Again, Yondu ignored him. By now you and Kraglin were already grinning from Peter's reaction alone.

"But the boy ain't watchin' where he's goin', he slips on an empty soda can and falls flat on his face right in front of her. But that's not the best part-"

"I will seriously kill you, ya blue dick!" Peter was getting so red and flustered you had to bite your tongue, as did Kraglin who's nostrils where flaring with the effort.

"It had rained that mornin', and he had been just unlucky enough to land on a puddle, and when he stood up it looked like he'd gone and done pissed himself. I don't think I need to say he didn't wind up gettin' the girl."

That broke Kraglin. He snorted a laugh and Yondu clapped his hands together, shouting, "Gotcha! Yer out!"

Kraglin groaned out a, "I don't know why those stories always get me!" but sat back grinning anyways as Peter buried his scarlet face in his hands whining, "So uncool!"

Peter composed himself and glared at Yondu. "Alright. What about that time you accidentally switched the intercom on while listening to that Brittany Spears music from Terra?"

Yondu just stared at him stonily, no hint of emotion, refusing to dignify the story with a response, although you almost thought you could see his face slightly darken. Kraglin, even though he was out, pretended to be very interested in the table and after an awkward beat you decided to take your turn, because there's no way you'd let yourself laugh at Yondu's music choices if you knew what was good for you.

"SO- Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off? He’s all right now." you say in an attempt to bring the game back to jokes lest you be the next one they decide to dredge up an embarrassing story about.

Yondu turned his attention to you. "Ya know, I think the toilet has anger issues," he said. You gave him a confused look and he continued, "Whenever I flush it, it completely loses its shit."

You fight a smile. Peter does the same despite himself still being cranky about Yondu's previous story. Kraglin, however, openly giggles at the joke.

Peter quickly steadies his breathing and says, "There were once two guys flying a ship in dead space. One turns to his buddy and says: 'Damn, I can’t find any milk for my coffee.' His friend replies: 'In space no one can, here use cream.'"

You raised an eyebrow in confusion momentarily before throwing your head back with a groan as you got the joke. "That's a terrible joke!" you say, allowing yourself to grin.

"But you wanna laugh, don't you?" Peter teased.

You playfully glare at him and take your turn instead of answering. "Which is heavier, 200 lbs of feathers, or 200 lbs of bricks?"

Now Yondu raised an eyebrow. "They'd weigh the same, kid."

You try not to grin as you shake your head. "Nah. It's the feathers, because you also have to carry the weight of what you did to those poor birds."

Yondu propped his elbow on the table and half-hid his grin behind his hand as he nodded his head in approval, before being mildly startled by the sound of a laugh escaping Peter's gritted teeth. Yondu joyfully slapped the table and pointed at Peter. "Yer out too, boy!"

"Aw, dammit!" Peter cried out, but he wasn't angry anymore. He followed Kraglin's lead and relaxed in his chair knowing he was now able to laugh freely at any corny jokes that came.

Yondu smirks at you. "And then there were two."

Crap. You had really been hoping you wouldn't need to square up against him alone. He was really good at this game, and rarely broke. You, however, always had to fight super hard against turning into a giggly little mess, and usually lost. There was just something about his ability to deliver the jokes with a completely deadpan or stern face that always broke you, but this time you were going to try your best to avoid that.

"I was kidnapped by mimes once." he said, "They did unspeakable things to me."

You inhaled deeply, and let it out slowly, shaking your head as you did so and giving a look that said 'Damn you.' "What’s the difference between an amateur thief and a professional thief?" you begin, continuing after a beat, "The amateur thief says, 'Give me all your money!' The professional thief says, 'Sign here please.'"

Yondu nodded his head thoughtfully. "That's actually pretty accurate. Not sure that's even a joke..." he grinned, almost taunting you at the inability to draw a laugh from him. His turn now. "Two burglars are robbin' a liquor store. One turns to the other an' asks, 'Is this whiskey?' The other replies, “Yeah, but not as wisky as wobbing a bank.” Of course, this last line was delivered with a clean slate of emotion, your weakness.

Fuck.

You had to turn your head away from him as you fought to keep your breathing in check, your lips pressed together, threatening to betray you.

"Ay Ay! No looking away you coward!" Peter laughed, prompting you to face him instead. You flipped him off, your grin finally splitting your face.

"There it is! Come on, you know ya wanna laugh." Yondu teased, grinning at how your nostrils flared when you turned back to glare at him. An unconvincing glare, but it was the best you could manage.

After a couple deep breaths with your hands balled into fists you thought you had calmed down enough to take your turn. "I yelled “COW!” at a woman on a bike once. She flipped me off and then ran straight into the cow..." You raised your hands and shrugged your shoulders in mock exasperation. "I tried!"

Peter laughed while Kraglin and Yondu just shared an amused glance.

"Ya know, I might've actually found that funny... if I knew what a cow was." Yondu taunted, grinning as your shoulders fell in realization.

That made Peter snort, probably for no other reason than he now just had a case of the giggles. But the look on your face was probably part of it. His snort in turn made you grin, his laughter contagious.

This gave Yondu an idea. Grinning evilly he reached over to poke Peter in the side, making the younger man jerk almost violently away with a giggle. Kraglin chuckled as Peter protested, "Hey! You know that's cheating!"

"Nah, you're out, boy. There ain't no rule that says I can't use it on someone that's outta the game." Yondu argued playfully, throwing a look at Kraglin who took the hint and poked Peter from the other side.

"Hey!" Peter whined, the pitiful sound making you cover your mouth to hide your widening grin.

Kraglin stood so he could tickle Peter properly, seeing your amusement at his predicament, and you clenched your jaw as streams of your friend's laughter mixed with uncharacteristically high pitched, "No!"s and "Please!"s poured from his mouth before he managed to escape Kraglin's grip and hop away from the table, clutching his sides and catching his breath. Just in time too, because you were worried that might've actually broken you if Peter hadn't stopped his girly ticklish squeals.

Yondu must've realized this too because he snapped his fingers in mock frustration, and conceded that it was your turn again. In truth he was glad Peter got away as well. The plan had almost backfired on him, nearly having made him laugh at the sight as well.

You had to restart your joke twice, each time having to stop yourself from accidentally laughing so you wouldn't lose. Eventually you finally got out, "Guy with a gun enters a bar... He cries out angrily: 'Who the fuck had sex with my wife?'... A voice was heard in the background, "You don’t have enough bullets mate!”

Yondu grinned, looking down at the table before nodding. "I like that one. It's good." However, he didn't laugh, just went straight into his next joke. "Nurse hands a man his newborn and says 'I’m sorry, but your wife didn’t make it.' He hands it back, saying, 'Well give me the one my wife made.'"

Your eyes went wide. "Yondu!" you scold. "That's terrible!"

"Don't give me that! I can see ya fighting not to laugh."

It was true. As much as the joke was bad, you couldn't help it. There's nothing that makes someone want to laugh more than knowing you can't laugh. Everything's funnier when you can't laugh. You roll your eyes and deliver your next joke. "Why couldn't the toilet paper cross the road? ... It got stuck in a crack."

Peter cracked up at that, moving to sit back down with a warning glance at Kraglin, who held up his hands as a sign that he wasn't going to tickle him again. Kraglin then shook his head with a wide grin as he watched Yondu run his tongue over his teeth and look down as he tried to suppress a smile.

Yondu inhaled. "Damn. Ya almost got me."

You grinned wide and bit your tongue. You almost got yourself.

"Ya wanna hear a joke 'bout construction?"

You let out a dramatic sigh. "You're gonna tell it anyway, might as well."

"I'm still workin' on it."

You smack your hand on your thigh and jerk your head to the side as your breath hitched. "Fuck you!" you say, a wide grin plastered to your face.

Now Peter and Kraglin were laughing at yours and Yondu's reactions more than anything else.

"Ya wanna tap out now? There's no shame if ya do." Yondu teased.

"Fuck you." you say again. "What did the plumber say to the singer?" You cursed yourself for not being able to come up with a better joke, but delivered the punch-line anyway. "Nice pipes."

Yondu didn't even crack a smile a that, not that you blamed him. He asked, "What's the difference between a good joke and a bad joke?"

"I don-"

"TIMING!" Yondu shouted so suddenly that you jerked back and a startled laugh finally broke free from your throat, and once it was out it was like a dam had collapsed- you couldn't hold back the torrent of giggles that had built up for so long.

"Dude! You can't just yell stuff out like that!" you scold, still giggling as you held a hand to your heart, "You scared me!"

"Made ya laugh though, that's what counts." he grinned. He stood up from the table and stretched. "Looks like I win." He ruffled your hair and you swatted him away playfully.

"One of these days I'll get you!" you say.

"Then why don't ya put your money where your mouth is," Kraglin laughed, Peter nodding with him, saying, "Yeah, you two face off again. Right now. Loser pays for everyone's drinks for the night next time we go out."

Still giggly you glance from Peter and Kraglin to a smug looking Yondu standing and grinning at you with his arms crossed.

With a giggly sigh you bow your head and concede. "I can't. I'm not ready."

Yondu lets out a chuckle and pulls you in to give you a noogie. "That's what I thought."

#gotg #gotg fanfiction #you laugh you lose #yondu fanfiction #yondu #peter quill #kraglin #x reader #starlord #reader is a ravager #yondu udonta #kraglin obfonteri #fluff #fluffy fanfiction #funny #jokes

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her-world-on-fire · 4 years ago

Text

It Was All Yellow {Jason Todd x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 2,424

Request: Jason or Damain finding you, the happy girl, singing a sad song and crying while on patrol. If possible, do you think the song could be If I Could Ride a Bike by Chevy? Thanks, you're a godsend <3

A/N: Sorry if this wasn’t what you imagined, hope you like it anon!

I LISTENED to the sound of own heartbeat. It echoed loudly, and I looked over at Jason, fearing he would wake at any moment. He had fallen asleep almost as soon as we got to the apartment. I didn’t blame him, almost every night he was working himself to death. Crime rates increased with every new vigilante. The work never seemed to stop. No matter how much we tried it seemed like Gotham was the same as we left it the night before. I watched as his chest slowly rose then fell. His face was expressionless, his usual smirk was gone.

Jason was sore, I could tell by the way he moved he was in pain. He tried his best to hide it, but I noticed it. I noticed that he hot showers to try and ease the pain. The steam flowed from under the crack over the door, and found its home on the mirrors and walls. Every night before he went to sleep he would sneak into the kitchen and take ibuprofen. I could hear the pills rattling inside the bottles, and his hushed footsteps as he hurried back into his room.

This was the most peaceful I had seen him all week.

His head was resting on my lap. I pulled the blanket over him as gently as I could. It was only 8pm, he needed to sleep to recover. I didn’t have to worry about the boys waking him up. Jason had insisted on getting his own place. He knew I never felt quite at home in the manor, and let me stay with him.

I turned off the TV and leaned against the arm rest. I wanted to try and get some sleep too.

I woke up to the sound of Jason’s phone ringing. I looked around, and he wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. My best guess was the shower. I grabbed his phone, it was Artemis. I bolted to the bathroom. “Jason!”

I reached the bathroom door and he immediately swung it open. He looked over at me. “What? Are you alright?” I held up his phone. He looked at the caller ID. “Oh shit.” He took his phone, and answered it, bringing it to his ear. “Hey.”

I looked at Jason, his hair was still soaking wet. The water dripped from his hair down to his neck, them his chest. He had his towel wrapped around his waist. I motioned I was going to go into the kitchen. And he nodded and closed the door. He spoke quietly. A few moments later I heard him move into the closet.

Artemis.

Artemis was a former teammate, and from the way Dick told it, they were more than that. I tried my best to push the negative thoughts out of my head. I started making breakfast when I heard a loud crash. “Jason?” I moved away from the kitchen and into the hallway. I heard rustling coming from inside his room. “Jason? Are you okay?” The door opened and Jason emerged with a duffel bag. “Have you seen my holster?” He didn’t look at me as he zipped up his duffel bag.

“It’s in the laundry room.” He moved past me and to the laundry room. He didn’t speak. He moved back and forth between the rooms collecting his things. “I paid this months rent. Alfred will continue the payments on my behalf just in case.” I blinked in shock. A month’s rent? Just in case?

“You’re leaving?” He stayed silent. He looked over the apartment, trying to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Finally he looked over at me. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reached for the door and paused. He mumbled something under his breath. He turned back to me and pointed a finger.

“Don’t go out on patrol alone.” With that, he was gone.

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

Dick had noticed a change in Y/N’s behavior. Normally, Y/N was the highlight of patrol. Constantly positive and bubbly, it made the night go much faster. But since Jason left, Y/N was quiet. No more humming, the laughter that had once illuminated the night was gone.

Not even Dick knew why Jason was gone. It was Jason didn’t want any backup, it was something he needed to do alone. He didn’t want to risk Y/N getting caught up in his mess. He was sending updates to Jason but he wasn’t sure that he was getting them. If Jason wanted to be alone, he knew exactly how to do it. He cut off all forms of communication and was consumed by the job. It had been 2 weeks and he was silent. No one knew where he was. No one knew if he was even alive. Roy informed Dick that Jason had stopped by for supplies. But he hadn’t heard anything since.

Whatever he was doing, he was sure to hide it. No news reports caught wind of his activities. For his sake, Dick hoped that Jason was on the right path. The last time Jason broke his promise to Bruce beat him until he was almost unrecognizable. Jason had even remarked he had never seen him hit the Joker as hard.

There was an insatiable anger in Bruce. He had trusted Jason to operate in Gotham under the condition he wouldn’t kill anyone. Then Jason went on national television and nearly killed Cobblepot, by shooting him point blank. The boys were at a loss, neither of them knew what to do. Bruce insisted on dealing with it himself. Jason only got away because Roy saved him. Dick wasn’t sure how they would stop Bruce this time.

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

Jason slung his duffel bag across his shoulder. He released a sigh as he stretched. He had been driving all night to get back as soon as possible. He had a lot of explaining to do. He had received all of Dick’s messages.

Let me know you’re alright.

Tim can’t track your location, just check in.

Jason we haven’t heard from you in 3 weeks.

Y/N’s not doing good.

He felt guilty for just leaving, but he had to. He knew that if he gave explanations then Dick would try and talk him out of it. It would give Tim more time to figure out how to track him. More importantly he knew if Y/N had asked, he would’ve stayed.

Jason entered the apartment. After being gone for so long it seemed almost foreign. There were a few noticeable changes. The curtains that were almost always drawn open to let in the sun were shut. More importantly it looked empty. Almost as if no one was inhabiting it.

There was no evidence of dirty dishes, no laundry, and everything was spotless. It was too clean for anyone to be living here. When he opened the fridge his suspicious were confirmed. There was no food. It was almost empty, apart from a case of water. He sighed, Dick was right. Things were not good. He looked around the apartment, trying to find any hint of where Y/N went.

The only thing missing, was a single outfit.

Y/N’s suit.

Jason decided to visit all the patrol spots he knew. Each one of them came up empty. Just as he was about to give up, he heard something. Jason stopped. He faintly heard a voice in the distance. It was barley audible, but he somehow caught it. He tried to find the source, he walked towards the stairs. It had to have been coming from the roof top. As he got closer, he heard an accompanying soft piano.

“If I could sail a boat I'd cruise across the sea. A sweet adventure for us two. I'll be Jack and you rose.”

The voice began to falter, there were so many emotions just begging to be released. Jason didn’t want to interrupt, in fear of the voice stopping. He didn’t walk completely up the stairs. He was mesmerized by the sound. He stayed at the bottom steps, as quietly as possible. It took him a while to process that he knew the voice.

It was Y/N. He had not ever heard Y/N sad. He continued listening as the voice grew louder. “Just please don't let me go. Cause I'll be nothing without you.” The desperation made Jason want to make his presence known. He wanted Y/N to know that he was there. He wanted to help, more than anything. He slowly walked up the stairs. “Oh when you call me, I'm drifting on clouds. Like I'm dream-ing.”

“But in the morn-ing, I'll wake up and see that you’re stuck here with me. If only you knew what I would do for you I'd jump up and hold you so tightly.” With every verse, the voice grew softer. There was more sadness in each line. He listened carefully to the lines, trying to piece together the information. Each line made it apparent, unrequited love.

“But I will never be able to do these things, so I'm just left imagin-ing.” As the song ended, I finally let all my emotions go. No one knew where Jason was and I was beginning to give up hope. I was sitting on the ledge of the rooftop. Police scanners were quiet. There were no distressed civilians. For once it seemed like Gotham was having a good night. Jason wasn’t here to see it. I moved to get up, in search of something. I had been trying to distract myself as much as possible with work. I couldn’t stand being inside the empty apartment anymore. For the first two weeks I stayed in hoping that one night Jason would come back and everything would be okay. But by the third week, it was evident he wouldn’t be back any time soon. When I did sleep, I stayed with Roy. We had been working together to try and track Jason but it appeared he had learned some new tricks.

I heard a creak come from behind me. I turned around immediately, but there was nothing there. I was about to venture down the stars when I heard something. “Hey.” I froze. That voice. I turned around and saw Jason. He was in his street clothes. He looked drained. There were a few small cuts and some bruising on his face. I moved closer to him, and let out a breath I had been holding in. I was relived he was okay, but I was angry at him for leaving.

“I didn’t know you were back. I didn’t even know if you were-“ I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence, but he knew. “I went to the apartment and it was empty. I noticed your suit was missing. I figured I would find you out here.” He moved closer and wiped the tears from my eyes. “How much did you hear?” I asked nervously. I was hoping he arrived after I had finished but by the look on his face it was apparent he didn’t.

“Almost all of it.”

“I don’t even know where to start.” He paused, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I just disappeared.” I nodded and thought back to each restless night. Not knowing was the worst part. “A long time ago, someone really bad got away. I lost his trail, but I’ve been keeping tabs on him. He resurfaced and I couldn’t let him get away again.” He put his arm around me, “But I won’t ever leave you like that again.” He placed a kiss on top of my head. Silent tears streamed down my face and I took in his warm embrace.

“Let’s go home. The boy’s have this covered.” I looked at him in shock. He had never called the apartment home. He always said that it was just somewhere he slept. He had never felt that it was home. “I thought the apartment wasn’t home?”

“It’s not home without you.”

We got back to the apartment and Jason reached for the door. He opened the door and I moved to turn on the lights. I stopped, the table was lit by candles. The floor was scattered with rose petals. It was nothing like how I left it. It felt comforting again. “I had Roy bring your things back.” He shut the door behind us. “It’s perfect.” I turned around and wrapped my arms around him. He ran his hands through my hair. “Come on,” He took my hand and led me to the bathroom. It was lit by a few candles. The bath was set with warm water. “I know you haven’t been here much and I thought you would appreciate it.”

“I’ll be in the bedroom, when you get out.” He placed my towel and some clothes on the sink and departed.

Once I got out I followed the petals into the bedroom. The bedroom was back to it was before. Jason had left a mess when he left, and I left a mess moving back and forth between Roy’s. Everything was neatly put away. Jason by now had changed out of his street clothes and into his sleep wear. He was laying down staring at the ceiling. Once I closed the door he looked over. “How was it?”

“I haven’t done that in a long time.” I moved to the bed and joined him. He opened his arms and I put my head on his chest. “Are you okay?” I looked up at him and examined his face. The darkness hid the severity pretty well. Now in the light, it looked worse. “You should see the other guy.” I shook my head and laughed a little. “Really, I’m okay. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Prove it.” He leaned over and kissed me. It was soft, and needy. After weeks, it finally seemed like it was going to be okay again. He pulled away and pulled me closer. He pulled the covers over me, and kissed my forehead again. “Get some sleep babe.”

“How are you?”

“Better, now.” He ran his thumb across my cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

And for the first time in weeks, I slept soundly.

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason peter todd #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #Red Hood X y/n #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #gotham #batfamily #batboys #batman

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starshiningsirius · 5 years ago

Text

The most sweetest thing(Yandere Trey x reader)

Thank you to @swirly-writes for sending me yandere prompt from which I gained my inspiration

BAKERY BOIS BIRTHDAY! NO DENIAL IN SAYING HE'S MY FAVORITE IN HEARTSBYUL!😍🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂

A new bakery opened up in town, it's popularity sky risen in a short amount of time. It was known for its sweets that taste like another food entirely. An astounding feet something that no one could understand how he did it, almost like magic.

Said baker and owner named Trey Clover was deemed a master at what he did. His smiles toward customers who would enter where his pearly white teeth would show had any girl fall for him instantly. He wouldn't pay them any mind though, he was only focused on making his bakery a success that was until he met someone that changed his goal.

It wasn't as crowded in the morning when he first opens the shop. No one would come in until about three hours later. That is until one day she did.

Her name was Y/n who was beautiful in looks standards but with an expression of apathy on her face you'd think she was nothing more than a doll. Trey had heard her enter with the bell above the door alerting him and immediately went to the counter to serve her.

At first he was surprised seeing such a beautiful young lady enter his shop, he couldn't even deny the blush that was visible on his face. Something about her seemed off though as he examined her for a quick second he noticed how empty she looked. He didn't know why but it did make him a bit curious.

When he caught himself staring for awhile he cleared his throat a little and put on his best smile.

"Hello, Ms. Is there something I can get you?"

"A slice of cake."

"And what would you like it to taste like?"

"Nothing the way it is would be just fine."

This answer actually surprised him seeing as people come here for desserts that taste like whole other foods. No one ever asks for the things he makes himself without the help of his magic.

His bewildered expression didn't go unnoticed by the female in front of him as she thought about how easily his expression changed with her order. She assumed he didn't get orders like hers often.

"Ah, coming right up Ms."

He wouldn't admit it but he was actually giddy for once like he wanted to be famous for his sweets in general, he did run a bakery after all. He served it to her and she ate it inside the small cafe like place.

He actually pretended to clean the counters while she indulged herself with the blank expression she came in with. He couldn't deny the anxiety pounding in his heart when he saw the fork come up to her lips as she took a bite.

That's when he saw it. A small smile grace her angelic features. He was sure it was real and rare at that, but he couldn't believe nor get it out of his head. From that day forward she started to come in around opening time and Trey would anticipate meeting with her. She would order different sweets all tasting how Trey would make it and bringing a smile to her face that Trey would long to see. Energizing him every morning and keeping him eager to see the sun rise on the next day.

After about the first five meetings with him she gave him her name, Y/n L/n. As nice as it sounded to roll off his tongue hearing her repeat his name was far more appealing. They would now exchange more conversations with one another in the mornings that was barren and empty with no other customers. She would wait for Trey to make a sweet she had asked for that he didn't have in stock already which left some time to conversate.

She actually brought up how he didn't mention her emotional detachment not once.

"Everyone has their reasons for who they are I wouldn't want you to have to explain yourself just for the sake of my curiosity."

"Th -thank you." That's the first time he heard her stutter before, he found it cute.

"To be honest I really like your sweets, they are divine, and I can't help but feel happy when I eat them." Her words offered Trey to chuckle a little seeing a small smile on Y/n's face he could feel his heart beat faster.

So he responded with,

"Keep smiling like that. It makes my heart happy."

🥳🥳🥳 . 🥳🥳🥳 . 🥳🥳🥳 .🥳🥳

Of course not all good things come to an end. Trey had gotten closer with Y/n and knew she was not the apathetic girl he first saw, he was able to decipher her feelings a lot better. She was shy, kind, polite, and virtually loved his sweets. With how she was raised by a high classed family that undermines women expressing themselves he could understand the general picture of why she had an apathetic look on her face half the time.

It did anger him to some extent but at the same time if he had seen her smile so often it wouldn't be so precious as when he had first met her. The fact that she likes his desserts for what they are also stood out to him as what made her different. There were so many things Trey could list in his head that would entail why he had fallen for the lovely lady that entered his shop every morning.

At this point he was head over heels for her awaiting to bake any treat the girl asked for the very next day. Until she didn't come one morning and that had him worried.

'What could possibly be holding her from coming here? She never misses a day.'

Questions and inquiries ran through Trey's head, running a hand through his green hair throughout the morning up until he heard the bell ring. It caught his attention except it wasn't her, it was just a normal group of customers that came a few hours after the store opened. He hadn't realized how long he had been standing there.

It was going to be a long day.

. 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳 .🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳 .🥳🥳🥳🥳

Finally the day was almost done, at least in Trey's head he praised being able to close the store. His mind was still running rampant on not seeing the sweet angel that would bless his morning with a ray of sunshine and motivate him to move on with the day.

He sighed with exhaustion seeing as everyone always ordered their dessert to taste different which meant no breaks on using his magic.

As he pushed up his glasses the little bell above the door leading in rang again. He took a breath and plastered on a fake smile to hide his exhaustion. It was a couple that came in, he couldn't hide his shock though when he saw the female paired with a man.

She didn't look happy as she did the previous morning with anticipation to try his sweets. Instead she had the expressionless face that she usually had except it looked more sad. Trey had gotten better at reading her emotions often over the course of their encounters. She was wearing an expensive dress which contrasted with her casual clothing. Of course Trey thought she looked stunning, but the look on her face wasn't making it very complete.

He didn't realize he was staring for a while as the couple had already stopped at the counter. The man cleared cleared his throat obnoxiously and Trey could already tell he was someone already unfavorable to him.

"What would you like sir?"

When he ordered Trey had to try hard not to let his smile falter, clenching his fists behind the counter in agitation. He took a quick glance over at Y/n who had avoided his gaze and looked as though she was repressing a frown for an empty look instead. It was like she was pretending not to know him which he couldn't deny did sting quite a bit. Trey being the calculating person he is went along with the charade as he deduced it had to do something with the man next to her.

"And for you Ms.?" As soon as the man had finished he glanced over at Y/n and secretly winked at her.

"Ah, for her just a dark coffee is fine. You've look like you've been gaining more weight recently which is unbecoming of you my dear fiancee. So make it taste like a salad please."

Trey couldn't help but looked toward Y/n who looked like she wanted to speak but shut her mouth immediately after opening. It definitely rubbed him the wrong way, not only was this guy arrogant and rude, he blatantly insulted his angel on her weight of all things when she looked as though she hadn't gained anything. Not only that but he was going to be married to her! The world was unfair and hell had frozen over with such a man like that Trey could only imagine how miserable Y/n already was by the look on her face. She always loved his sweets and only ordered that when she came, and he would always adore the smile adorned on her face that would shine light brighter than a sunrise in the Afterglow Savanna.. He decided to at least try and speak up for her.

"Excuse me sir but that doesn't look like what your fiancee wanted to order." The venom in his voice when he mentioned her partnership with the man was clear as day.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion sir, I choose what's best for my future wife she is one of a kind in her looks and I want to keep it that way." Trey's entire body flinched seething with rage as he stayed in his place and smile visibly twitched into a frown.

He did learn to keep his mouth shut and have patience, if serving under the former dorm leader back in his NRC school years taught him anything it was that first and foremost losing your cool wouldn't do any good.

He apologized maintaining a cool facade before going to the kitchen. Where he could quietly say a few profanities to himself. As he did almost finished the order with all that was left being to change the taste with his magic, he considered changing the flavor the man had ordered on her coffee.

With a wave of his pen it tasted just like the cakes she'd ask for on the usual mornings. Serving their food to them both he kept his golden eyes on her reaction when she tasted it.

Her eyes did in fact widen with shock not expecting sweetness to touch her tongue afterall. It caught the attention of the young man who had asked her what was wrong. She quickly fixed the look on her face to go back to expressionless.

"Nothing it just amazes, the amount of talent this baker has. It really does taste different." Her words were enough to send his heart up in the air like fireworks.

He could see the light coming back in her eyes again. It gave him life he cherished it and begun to crave it.

🥳🥳🥳 . 🥳🥳🥳 . 🥳🥳🥳

Over the next couple of days the same routine occurred. She'd come in with her husband to be and he'd ask for different things. All at different times of the day though, that part wasn't consistent. Trey believed he was hoping for Y/n to gain more interest in eating healthier even though Y/n told him when she came to the bakery it was her first time eating sweets.

He did notice over the pass few days even with him secretly changing the taste to something sweet her eyes were getting duller. She no longer smiled like she once did before.

So once he heard yelling outside his shop before closing time after yet another day, he took a peek through the glass windows near the entrance. It was Y/n and that man with not a single soul to be seen. Except her eyes were beyond what is considered life like.

It was emotionless and still empty would be a better definition. The man was yelling at her, he couldn't hear why but it didn't matter. She heard a few brief words about her not wanting to marry him and the situation was easily pieced together in Trey's mind.

He saw the man's rage and his own was overflowing. Not to mention when he came inside and he finally saw her. Still in a beautiful dress, but with a bruise on her cheek. He was about a second from killing the man across from him.

Trey was a gentleman meaning he'd never hit a lady even if they cheated or whatever the case. He didn't have to do any of that because she denied his marriage. More than likely she was quiet and shy when she told the man.

Lucky for Trey he was just given even more of a reason to kill him. Pretending everything to be fine when he ordered. As Trey went in the kitchen yet again he changed up his usual ingredients for a few more deadlier ones.

It didn't take long for the one of the two to fall asleep peacefully and the other to have a face full of cake taking his last bite of anything he'll ever eat again. Might as well make good use of all NRC has taught him afterall.

🥳🥳🥳 . 🥳🥳🥳 . 🥳🥳🥳 .

"Oh, I see your up." A pleased smile came on to his face as he walked into the upstairs room of the bakery.

She sat up from the bed she was resting in still feeling her mind hazy and the bruise on her cheek aching.

"Trey? What happened where's Dylan and-" She was already wide awake and asking for information on what had occurred.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down I talked to him and he said he'll cut off the marriage. Okay? I managed to convince him since he loves to come here to eat so much I gave him a recipe he wouldn't forget. 'He was going to make millions off of it', so he said. He had no need for your families riches anymore."

"Wha? But that doesn't make much sense." She was trying hard to process the information but the headache she had made it hard.

"Hey it's okay, it's okay. I know it's a lot to process you passed out from the shock so I kept you here overnight." He said trying to take her mind off the situation.

"I know this isn't the best time but here I know how much you wanted another slice." Before he could hand it to her she hugged him tightly to where he almost fell and dropped the cake while he was at it.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you Trey! Your the most sweetest person to do something like this just for me." She even had tears in her eyes. She really didn't like Dylan apparently. That made him happy at the very least.

"Don't mention it, I'm just happy to see your okay. Why don't you stay here for the day all the shock must have drained you. Not to mention that bruise has got to heal. You can have sweets anytime of the day you want." His heart was hammering in his chest and his face had turned up the heat like an oven. This reaction was far more than he expected but he wasn't unhappy about it.

He saw the sparkles of life in her eyes when he mentioned sweets. Chuckling to himself he handed her the slice of cake.

Seeing her take a bite of it always did bring him hapiness. He would have to give her a sedative toward dinner time and reexplain the all the false information again since her and her former husband to be was considered missing. They were supposed to come into the bakery but Trey feigned innocence when the authorities asked if they had come in. It would be fine though. He made a whole bunch of different treats with drug inducing forgetfulness just for her.

All he cared about now was protecting her smile. He admired her smile from afar seeing it as the most sweetest thing he'd never get tired of.

Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere trey clover #yandere trey clover x reader #trey clover #twst trey

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